#and i’m not sure he’d jive with

[askchilchuck]

Rip Chilchuck Tims, you would of loved the Beatles

We have beetles here too, you know. Also, quit telling people I’m dead.

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

as a former rower, i have to give my latest brainrot seat assignments or i will EXPLODE

coxswain: the only one facing the front of the boat, the cox is arguably the most important member of the team. As such, the two main coxs are farah and horangi, who switch out depending on the need. Farah is the default cox, because she’s extremely calm under pressure, has exceptional leadership skills, and knows exactly how to get what she wants from her boat. She has never looked anything but perfectly relaxed in the stern, face focused and intense. She doesn’t have to yell or scream, but she will if necessary. Horangi, on the other hand, doesn’t cox as often but when he does, he is at an 11 at all times. He makes jokes, taunts the other boats, jeers and snarks at his rowers, and generally does a Lot. It’s not always the best strategy, especially with the wrong person in the stroke seat. But when he works? He fucking WORKS.

eight: also known as the “stroke” seat, they set the pace for the rest of the boat. They have to be steady, sure, and solid. Which is why I think Ghost fits this seat best. He doesn’t let the rush from the bow get overwhelming, he can keep a high stroke-per-minute count without burning out, and he and Farah have a rock solid connection. He sometimes swaps with König (usually when Horangi is coxing because he doesn’t jive as much with his style) but most of the time? That man is in the front

seven: SOAP. SOAP SOAP SOAP. There’s no one else I could think of to be ghost’s seat pair. And not just because I’m a ghoap girlie at heart lmao. But a good seat pair is a balance that’s hard to come by. You have to pull at the exact same time with the exact same force and movements, and soap is incredibly perceptive to ghost’s every move, and always knows without having to see his face exactly what he’s thinking. He has some rush issues, because he gets WAAAAY to into things, but ghost’s immovable pace is the perfect counterbalance

six: the first of the “engine room” middle four, six seat is a powerhouse. They bring the speed and the momentum. And I think Gaz is the perfect six. He’s a leader of the middle, but he’s not quite experienced enough to be stroke. In a few years, he’d have it in the bag for SURE. But for now? He’s got a fire in his eyes and a need to prove himself. He also loves to snipe about the “eyesore” that he’s forced to look at for the entire race.

five: ALEX! Another member of the engine room, five isn’t as focused on technique or finesse. However, it’s the heart of the boat and the core of the team. And Alex has heart in spades. He and Gaz are an amazing duo, and honestly could be a powerhouse stroke pair someday. He’s the connection between the stern four and bow four, keeping everyone in seamless sync.

four: as the middle of the boat, not a lot of people consider four seat often. Which is perfectly fine with König. He doesn’t have to have the absolute perfect technique like the outer four, he doesn’t have to lead like stern pair, and he doesn’t have to think about anything but pulling as hard as he fucking can until they cross the finish line. However, he does sometimes get swapped with Ghost whenever Horangi gets to cox. And while he’s not a fan, he doesn’t seem to mind as much when he is forced up front.

three: three doesn’t get enough love imo. In my mind, it’s the jack of all trades seat. It’s part of the engine room, but far enough to the bow where technique matters a lot, and there’s really only one person I could see doing it well. Roach is the perfect three seat - inconspicuous and seemingly underwhelming but incredibly versatile and flexible. He can also sit in any seat, regardless of whether it’s a starboard or port-side oar (like me when I still rowed! :D) and used to be Ghost’s pair until soap joined the team. He’s not upset about it at all, because three fits him much better lol

two: the bow pair are the farthest from the coxswain, and the most vital for both rush control and technique. Rush comes from the bow and bleeds into the rest of the boat. Which makes alejandro an excellent two. He doesn’t have to be as strong as the middle four (though he is still very very strong, don’t get me wrong), but his form is almost unmatched.

one: there’s only one person who has a more perfect form than Alejandro, and that’s Rudy. He’s straight out of the dreams of coaches everywhere, and often gets recruited as an example for newbie rowers to learn how to sit and how to hold onto their oars. He’s the farthest from Farah, but he is so on point with what she wants from him it’s like there’s no distance at all

price and nikolai are a former pair who moved to coaching after winning a few Olympic medals. Price deals with technique and Nikolai deals with strategy (ie when to hold back and when to open the tank)

kate and her wife are the team managers and owners

Other honorable mentions:

hesh and logan have a pair. hesh is in the stern because hes Big Brother. keegan has a single scull.

(oc warning) cash, mickey, zora, and lia have a four that's coxed by lucas. hes their Baby Brother and they can and will kill for him. ross and larkin (their coaches) look the other way because they would also kill for him.

[bougiebutchbinch]

Okay so I don’t think my ask went thru bc I sent a link to a fic and I forgot that Tumblr doesn’t like actual links on anon. Anyways, ignore this if you still received the other one! I saw this fic and immediately thought you’d devour it… but I saw someone else already sent it to you! (The professional dom one :3)

I cannot stress enough how much that fic makes me insane. I had to close my laptop screen no less than six times so I could walk away and gather myself before continuing on. Because holy crap. Anyway! I also read another fic that I thought you would like, however, it is a Scott/Logan fic. I’m not sure if you jive with that so I’m not going to link it here unless you’re chill with it. 

Top!Logan who mauls the life out of his very willing, very enthusiastic partners will always be something I will eat up like a fish deprived of water. I don’t have many mutuals who vibe with poolverine as hard as I do that I can send these to, so as the designated Top!Logan and Trans!Poolverine connoisseur of this corner of the internet… I am gently placing this on your doorstep. 

It is so solidified in my mind that Logan will try to devour his partners whole if they’re wanting and willing. He wants to bite and claim what’s his. But I also see him wanting that exact same energy back. If you will allow me to elaborate here for a brief minute:

Logan would want to feel like he belongs to someone else just as much as he wants his beloveds to belong to him. In this case, Wade. He and Wade are obviously matched in ways that others cannot even begin to comprehend. Wade matches his crazy, as Logan matches his. Physically, mentally, spiritually, these two are made for each other. 

That being said, Logan would be just as disappointed that he cannot be marked as he is that Wade cannot be marked—not for more than a few seconds, at least. But does that stop them? Fuck no. Absolutely not. 

The pair of them getting to it, approaching a state of mind that could only be described as delirious off one another, and Logan is holding the back of Wade’s neck, lifting him up a little so he can kiss his dearest, his beloved, his Wade.

It’s a biting kiss, more teeth than anything, but it’s loving. Wade knows it’s how Logan gets when he’s in the heat of the moment, but there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be. But when Logan pulls back, he keeps Wade’s face close to his neck and shoulder and states with no room for argument or doubt… “bite.” And who's Wade to say no to him? Especially when he says it like that... the man makes a very compelling argument.

Anyway! Logan would want to be claimed in return. Their healing factors certainly get in the way sometimes, but they’re smart. They can get creative with it. It’s been ages I feel since I sent that ask about the dog tags… but I think you get the idea. They have options, and they have all the time in the world to figure out a way to make it stick. Logan is nothing if not loyal and hopelessly devoted to the people he loves. *^-^*

I LOVE ALL OF THIS TIMES A THOUSAND!!!!!

I'm sorry for not answering your previous ask - I get a lot of asks, but my spoon-level is VERY variable. I'm dealing with a lot of academic work on top of my already hectic and unpredictable work schedule! That + disabilities means that lots of EXCELLENT content gets buried in my askbox, because I just do not have the energy to scroll through some days.

It's not a comment on the quality of the content in any way, or my enjoyment of it! Just a miserable effect of The Disabilities Being Disabling. I can't change my inability to look at every ask - but I do genuinely apologise.

But GODDDD yes, I love that fic SO MUCH. It ate my brain, spat it back out, then ate it again.

I'm not into Scogan.... YET. But I could be convinced!!!

And - YEAH. I am just incapable of seeing Logan as anything BUT helplessly devoted in his love <3 man is so desperate to care for people and shower them with affection and bring them happiness - even if it's hidden beneath a very gruff exterior!

[goldenspringmornings]

controversial opinion I’m sure someone’s mentioned before but I don’t believe rhys actually loved his mother, I think he loves the idea of her and what she represents to him but if she’d lived I don’t think he’d be able to reconcile her love of Illyria and her love for him simply from how he talks about Illyria and his heritage as something horrifically Other about him. he sees being Illyrian as something he has to work past, something that’s handicapping him and not an intrinsic part of him. and I don’t think his mother would jive with that very well cause iirc it’s mentioned that she did love her people, and the way rhys, cassian and azriel treat the Illyrians on page would probably be very upsetting for her!

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

*pops my very short head* Umm trick or Treat? (Sorry we don’t celebrate Halloween here so I’m unfamiliar with the customs)

*pats your head* You're doing perfect, sweetie

Trick or Treat! Fic Edition!

You get...another deleted scene, once again from the pilots/Book 1! Honestly looking back like this has made me find a lot of hidden old stuff! And I definitely see why I hung onto so much of it, even if it's all obsolete now x)

Kai remembers the one and only ‘high school party’ he’s ever been to. It wasn’t anything legendary that would be referenced for future generations to come, but it had been a party. A rather tame one at that: parental supervision was present, there wasn’t any questionable ingredients in the refreshments, the music was mainstream…and nothing happened that made it stand out, other than the crowd of his hyped fellow freshmen. Kai had been suffocated by how many people were present. Before, he hadn’t been sure of how many people could be packed into a single backyard, but that day he learned that the number could push above the sixty range. People he’d only seen behind textbooks and locker doors were now dressed in wild colors and dancing like the world was ending. It was a bizarre phenomenon to be sure. But, even with the "friends" Kai had at the time, he really hadn’t been able to cut himself a place in the scene. None of the songs sparked the need to dance, the food was just okay (not that it stopped him from discretely packing a doggie bag or two for Nya) and he hadn’t really had any memories of it, other than the fact that it had happened. He’d only gone for the experience, and it hadn’t been one he was eager to repeat. Tonight’s party is a different story. There’s not a sea of near-strangers dancing on a makeshift dance floor, only three other idiots he’d looked death in the eye with on multiple occasions. There’s no cheap DJ, just Cole tapping a tune on the bongos Jay constructed out of bark and leaves. There’s no table full of average food along the wall, just some of Zane’s finest scrounged around from whatever they could find in the woods. There's barely any semblance of a celebration at all. But Jay's already jiving to the mockery of music, holding out one hand in a quiet invitation to have Kai join along— And somehow, this makeshift shindig is already so much more fun than the one Kai barely remembers.

[shrinkthisviolet]

17, 18, 21, 26, 27?

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…

OOOH I love this question!

There are actually a few that have been rattling around in my head, especially Savitar-centric ones (ofc 😅 you know how much I dislike him in canon), but I’ll talk about specifically, which has to do with a gifset I saw a while back (this one!)

“My darling, if I can’t have you, no one can.” Now THAT as Savitar’s motive would’ve been EPIC

Unfortunately, it doesn’t really work with canon structured the way it is. Savitar has a crisis of conscience with Killer Frost over killing Iris, but then he gleefully kidnaps and kills her, even gloating about it. And then, later, he meets with Barry and Iris at Barry’s request, tries to seduce Iris out of desperation, and then leaves.

Some people would have you believe this is a ruse while Cisco finished the splicer. Those people clearly weren’t listening when Savitar told Killer Frost that the meeting went “as [he] expected, [he] was a fool to think otherwise.” Savitar had hope! He hoped Iris would choose him! But this doesn’t jive with him being glad to kill her just one episode prior.

So what I’d do instead is this:

instead of the amnesia plot* (maybe someone vetoes the procedure), I’d move the Barry/Iris/Savitar scenes to 3x21. Barry, perhaps at Iris’s request (remember that this is immediately after the identity reveal, so Barry’s pretty strung out), goes to Savitar and appeals to his humanity, as he does in canon 3x23. “I’m still in there, come home.”

Savitar goes to meet Barry and Iris, Barry appeals to him, Savitar tries to leave…then Iris appeals to him. For a moment, Savitar dares to hope…but he knows better. Iris would never leave Barry for him. So he leaves, bitterness rising in him

Killer Frost asks how it went, and this is when she presses him about “are you sure you’re ready to end Iris’s life?” the way she does in canon. Savitar, unlike canon, says “no…but if I can’t have her, no one can.”

He kidnaps Iris (it goes the same way as when he does it in canon 3x22, with him injuring Wally and taunting everyone on E2) and seduces her more in earnest, saying if she leaves Barry, he’ll spare her life—fake her death, and they can run away together, like a fairytale. Iris is horrified by this, saying her Barry would never talk like that. This angers Savitar and they argue, and he tightens her restraints, saying, “just remember, you brought this on yourself”

From here…well, we pursue the angle that Savitar is so far gone that even Iris’s love can’t save him—unlike canon, there’s no moment of weakness beyond this point. And with this sequence of events, that’s actually plausible. He doesn’t love Iris for her own sake anymore, but for his own sake—she’s been dead to him so long that now she’s more of a prize/ideal to him than a partner, he wants to have his cake and eat it too, but he can’t. So what’s the answer? Well, if he can’t have her, then no one can, so of course, he kills her

…well, he tries to. HR, however, tricks him, dying in Iris’s place. This enrages Savitar—he’d already steeled himself for months to kill Iris (and especially in the last few days when Iris made it clear she wouldn’t choose him and avert her fate), he can’t give up now—he’s too deep in for that. But in the end…Iris kills him. Probably with the pulse rifle, not a normal gun, since the pulse rifle has been shown to deter speedsters. And, since this is just an s3 fix-it, he’s still erased from time—him still being remembered in later seasons is not a concern for the sake of this concept

(Alternatively, I’d just change Savitar’s motive from “I want to kill Iris fr” to “I’m only killing Iris for now, but I’ll temporarily revive her later in secret for myself.” That also feels like a better version of Savitar’s story without changing too much)

idk if he’d have the scar here or not tbh—it’s not hugely important, but that moment of Iris touching Savitar’s scar is tragically sweet 🥺 so I’m torn

*I have issues with the amnesia plot tbh—very cute for Westallen, but ultimately pointless. It introduces a few interesting ideas that are never followed up on (Barry is so happy/light without his memories, so is it right to undo the amnesia? And also, Savitar no longer has memories and no longer wants to kill Iris, is it ethical to still defeat him?), it’s undone way too quickly/easily, and it’s overall a waste of time tbh. We just unmasked our villain last episode and we have 3 episodes left! We don’t have time for filler anymore!

18. Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased?

No, and that’s a ridiculous notion ✋ it just means you don’t like that ship, that’s all

21. What are your thoughts on crack ships?

Have at it! Crackshipping is fun even if not all crackships are my cup of tea. I just wish this was more common with brotps than it is 😔

26. Most shippable character?

Iris, and I stand by that ✋ people call Cisco the fandom bicycle, and that’s all well and good, but Iris is too

27. Least shippable character?

Caitlin tbh. I only really ship her with Iris, Ronnie, and occasionally Cisco. Some other Caitlin ships intrigue me (emphasis on some), but I don’t really ship them

salty ask game!

[elibean]

listen these boys have me in a vice grip ok, ive spat out like 5 fic for them in a week. this has literally never happened to me before lmao

anyway i signed up for an ao3 account and i should be done with that soon so i’ll stop spamming the tag with my fics. BUT UNTIL THEN, you’re stuck with me >:D

this runs with the “LG is from an alternate timeline” theory! 

when cxs first meets back up with LG and doesn’t think he’s alive, he ugly cries. When he is reminiscing abt lg when he thinks he’s dead, he ugly cries. I thought hey, lg isn’t very emotional. We really only see him get riled up as it pertains to cxs. What would it take for him to cry? And this is the product of that train of thought xD I’m sorry. Also whatever route s2 ends up taking, this will inevitably no longer jive with canon but hey for now it works!

           Every timeline, no matter how hard he tried, always resulted in this. Always, always, always. He should have stayed dead when possessed Qiao Ling stabbed him. It would have been better than reliving this over and over and over again. The blood on his hands; the way Cheng Xiaoshi looked at him; the touch of his hand to Lu Guang’s cheek; the way the lie “it’s going to be okay” was coughed out of his mouth; everything; all of it.

           He awakes with a start. Having nightmares; having THAT nightmare, isn’t unusual. But awaking to Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice calling out to him concernedly is.

           “Lu Guang?” he whispers. “You were murmuring in your sleep,” he continues. Lu Guang takes a minute to regain his composure. He’s sweating and his heart is racing a mile a minute.

           “Did I wake you? Sorry,” he stammers out, his voice unsteady, and that’s when he notices his eyes are wet. Shit, was I crying too?

           “It’s cool.” Back to silence. Lu Guang thinks Cheng Xiaoshi must’ve fallen back asleep. He should try to do the same, but he knows better. Knows he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon, if at all.

           “Lu Guang?” he murmurs.

           “Yes?”

           “You were…” he begins, but then pauses, like he doesn’t want to say it. A breath in. Then: “You were calling out for me in your sleep.” Lu Guang feels heat rise to his face. Embarrassing. But also, he’s mad at himself that Cheng Xiaoshi must have heard him being so pathetic, so vulnerable.

           Normally he’d deny it. Laugh it off. Call Cheng Xiaoshi an egotistical idiot for thinking Lu Guang would be calling out his name in his sleep, of all people. But. But the memory of blood is so fresh in his mind, of Cheng Xiaoshi’s lifeless body, everything, it’s all…Shit, he’s crying again.

           It must not be as quiet as he thinks, either, because Cheng Xiaoshi exclaims, “Lu Guang!” Hold it in, Lu Guang commands himself. He hears the mattress below him shift as Cheng Xiaoshi gets out of bed.

           “Lu Guang, get down here,” he commands, and who is Lu Guang to say no? He gets up and climbs down the ladder. Upon seeing Cheng Xiaoshi standing there, Cheng Xiaoshi who had been dead in his dreams moments before, who had been dead in another reality before, he breaks down, crumbling to the floor. Ugly, loud sobs. He thinks Cheng Xiaoshi looks surprised, but it’s hard to tell through the tears. He feels, rather than sees, the warm embrace of his companion, and oh, that makes it worse.

           “Hey, hey! I’m right here, it’s okay, everything’s okay,” he soothes, stroking Lu Guang’s back. There’s something ironic about being held and comforted like this by Cheng Xiaoshi, but he’s in no state to make a snarky comment on it. Instead, he hugs back tighter, digging his fingers into the fabric of Cheng Xiaoshi’s shirt. It’s too tight, it must hurt, he should apologize, but the only sounds that can come out of his mouth are sobs; sobs that make him shake and struggle for air.

           “Shh, shh. It’s okay,” Cheng Xiaoshi repeats, and how wrong he is. Sure, it’s okay now, but it won’t be okay, at some point, not if he can’t change things, not if…more tears.

           Eventually he quiets down, and reluctantly pulls away. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve.

           “Better?” Cheng Xiaoshi asks, his eyes full of concern, and something else Lu Guang can’t put a finger to. No, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. He weakly nods.

           “Do you wanna talk about it?” No, he thinks again, but he’s tired, and sad, and devastated, and exhausted, and…

           “You died,” he splutters out. Tears threaten to spill out again. “You died, and died again,” and now he’s lying— the dream was only one loop, not the reality he’s lived over and over, but he’s already talking, “and again, and I couldn’t save you. I tried, I tried, I tried, and I failed every time, and—”

           “Oh, Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi breathes out, worry and concern lacing every syllable.

           “I just wanted to save you, that’s all I was trying to do,” he manages to get out. He looks up to Cheng Xiaoshi who is looking back at him, feeling helpless that he can’t make things better. Lu Guang breathes in. “Why can’t I save you?” he whispers, and shit, he’d screwed up, he should have said “Why couldn’t I save you?” This was supposed to be describing a dream, not the reality he’d lived over and over again, but it just slipped out. If Cheng Xiaoshi noticed, he doesn’t show it. He says nothing, but he grabs his hand.

           “Feel this?” he asks, and he does. He feels the warmth of Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand, of the hand he’s clapped and high-fived so many times before. The hand that’s punched him in anger, that’s gripped onto his shoulder as he cried. He feels the crevices in the skin, the nooks and crannies, the roughness that he’s offered skin cream to help with in the past. He feels his pulse thrumming through his wrist. Cheng Xiaoshi interlaces their fingers. “It’s me. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He’s wrong. Lu Guang can’t bring himself to look at him. “Hey. I mean it,” Cheng Xiaoshi says firmly, and releases his hand, which makes Lu Guang immediately miss the warmth. He brings his hand up to Lu Guang’s face slowly, and gently wipes away his tears. This makes Lu Guang look at him, and oh, oh, he loves him, he loves him and he’s going to die and there’s nothing he can do—

           “I’m here. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he repeats. He’s a liar. He will go somewhere, but Lu Guang can’t tell him that. So he only nods, feebly. Cheng Xiaoshi moves to hug him once more, and Lu Guang melts into it. This will have to be enough, for now.

           Later, Lu Guang will have to go back to work. Back to work to figure out how to save Cheng Xiaoshi, how to protect moments like these, protect him.

           But for now he hugs Cheng Xiaoshi back, maybe a little too tightly, and lets himself calm down. The boy is alive, and safe, and here, with him. For now, in this moment, everything is okay.

           For now.

[emerson-grimes-apologist]

Question for Emmy:

What will the laughingstock crew react if someone the truly cared about got killed by the skin taker?

I know that question is really dark but I have to get out of my chest sorry.

No need to apologize! I love angst myself.

JANICE: Oh she would be devastated. Someone here talked about how they headcanoned that Janice would feel guilty if Skin-Taker killed anybody since she’s indirectly the reason he was brought into Candle Cove (Horace summoned him only after she shot a cannon hole into his ship) and therefore would indirectly be the reason that person died, and I jive with that.

PERCY: I don’t think he’d do anything that extreme tbh. He spends so much time worrying that something would happen that when something ACTUALLY happens, he would be kind of… used to the feeling? Plus he would’ve already spent all his energy worrying. He would probably feel kind of dead inside for a while until the grief hits him.

POPPY: He’d be explosively angry. Definitely. People would have to restrain him from marching to Skin-Taker’s cave and removing yet more of his body parts. Once he stops being so angry, he would start ugly-crying.

MILO: He has 0 healthy coping mechanisms. Either he would take his anger and sadness out on people or lock himself in his cabin.

THE LAUGHINGSTOCK: She would be sad, but she’s also sort of like the rock of the crew, so I don’t think she would allow herself to seem that sad or that vulnerable. She’d comfort other people first before she addresses her own feelings.

CALVERY: He’s seem to be the opposite of Poppy in a lot of respects. While Poppy would be explosively angry, Calvery would be moreso just really sad, but keep that to himself. He would have cold and calculating anger, as well, and would be the one to actually plan some kind of revenge while Poppy wouldn’t be able to think straight until he cools down a bit.

NATHAN: He would (try to) repress his feelings because he mimics Calvery, but be unsuccessful with it.

DR. HEARTFELT: Oh, the poor man. He would be a mess. He feels everything twice as strong as everyone else. But he also strikes me as the most emotionally intelligent of the crew, so I think he would grieve and cope just fine. He’d be fine eventually. In a way.

SEA-DOG: He would either just stay in his cabin or drink at the tavern. You'd have to torture him to get him to address his feelings or talk about them.

SALTY JOJO: He’s old, so it’s likely he lost a lot of people over the course of his life, to the point where he’s kind of used to it, as sad as that sounds. He would be upset, but it wouldn’t faze him that much considering.

BANANA KING: He would be really unserious about it and probably say some really inappropriate jokes that concern people (like, along the lines of, “Oh, well, at least I don’t have to deal with their BS anymore”). I think maybe his mind has gone a little from being on a desert island with only giant bananas for company, so that could have lead him to not be fazed by death, but I’m sure deep deep deep down, he would be sad. Perhaps joking is just his coping mechanism.

SANJAY: I think he would be genuinely shocked because, to me, he just seems like a guy who just wanted a job, and isn’t all that invested in the pirate life and just wants to slack off and take naps. Like ofc he KNOWS piracy is dangerous, but that wouldn’t actually FEEL real to him until someone gets killed. Like, he would just have no idea how to feel or what to do. He would probably leave the crew after thinking about it.

[other-eye]

I GOT TO SEE LORD HURON AND HOZIER!!!! (AND CHRIS STAPLETON AND ELLE KING)

God I love my family sometimes (a lot of times). My brother got me tickets for RailBird. This is a big music festival in Lexington Kentucky and the headliners for the day I was going was Hozier and Chris Stapleton. My favorite band of all time is Lord Huron and my favorite song is The Yawning Grave and I’ve been dreaming of seeing them for years. I’ve listened to Hozier for longer and have had full religious breakdowns to his songs before. I was so excited.

We drove 5.5 hours from the great city of Atlanta to Pineville where my grandparents live and we stayed the night with them. Next morning we made the 2 hour drive to Lexington.

We stayed about a mile from the festival grounds, so we just walked. It rained the entire walk but I was prepared. I wore knee- high rubber boots and a rain jacket. We got in early, so we got some merch, drinks (I don’t drink so I got a Coke and my brother got some whiskey +ginger beer drink) and watched Elle King’s set. I hoped she would play Drunk (And I Don’t Wanna Go Home) but she didn’t, oh well, She did amazing and I loved it.

About ten min before her set ended, we migrated to the stage Lord Huron would be on. I was vibrating with excitement. I forgot which song they opened with but they had this pay phone prop on center stage and it started ringing, the band came out and I’m physically assaulting my brother shaking him like Tyler the Creator to Narduwar in that one video. Ben comes on stage and answers the phone and starts singing Wait by the River. There’s a voice modulator microphone in it so it’s giving his voice that far away echo sound they have in a lot of the songs. My brother and I both were like “that’s so smart oh my god” they played a lot of songs I didn’t expect them to play like Ancient Names Pt 1, La Belle Savauge Le Fleur, and they announced a that they’re working on new stuff and sang one of the songs they’re working on! They played Meet Me in the Woods and I almost cried. Someone came up to me and said “I noticed you singing every song! Is this the band that sings Ends of the Earth?!” And I completely geeked out about it and they asked “do you think they’ll play it!” And I was like “idk I think they might but it’s hard to tell bc they have that newer album long Lost so I think they might play more of that” and we went back to hanging out, then like 2 songs later they start up Ends of the Earth and me and the dude looked at each other like “!!!!!!!!!!”

We noticed the crowd migrating to Hozier about 10 min before the end but we stayed until the last song “Not Dead Yet”. It felt like great end credit music.

We then tried to get fairly close to the stage for Hozier but we got caught in the sardine crowd (when everyone’s so close, you’re touching strangers). My bro and I get really claustrophobic, so I started getting frantic to get out of the crowd and I could tell my younger bro was getting overwhelmed and frustrated, so I told him to hold onto my drawstring and we cut through the ppl like a sewing needle. We went over by the bar and got a great vantage point. Hozier was already on stage and I’m white person dancing to everything. BACK UP EVERYONE I NEED TWIRLING ROOM. When he sang Francesca, I just stood there in complete awe. The ending parts when he sings “I would not change it each time, Heaven is not built for a love like you and I”, I swear tears were going down my face. My brother has written a whole book and the names of the brother main characters are Jackson and Wilford are ofc based on Jackie and Wilson (which he played!!!). I was funkin, bumping, and jiving to De Selby pt 2. I couldn’t hear the name of the woman who sang with him but she was a very pretty black woman with waist long braids and he voice was so deep and smooth that when I heard her start the second verse of Work Song, my jaw dropped and I was absolutely in love (I’m sorry to my boyfriend but I’m sure he’d understand 😅). Her voice reminded me of coffee and velvet and like with Francesca, I just stood there in awe for a while. I’m one of those people at concerts that get fully possessed by the music. He ended with Take Me to Church and I thought about how I was 13 when I first heard him and the 12 years I’ve been wanting to see him, it felt like a great ending of a movie.

My brother and I were also poking fun at the concert goers too. I’d been checking the weather all week and knew it was going to rain and that the fair grounds would be a mud yard, so I told my brother to bring work boots and ofc I wore knee-high rubber boots. It didn’t rain while we were there but it did when we were walking and yep, it was a mud yard. The amount of people wearing flip flops, sandals, crocs, white shoes, and worst of all, HEELS. Who wears heals to a music festival! I was full on dancing in the middle of the mud pit bc I realized it had a clear view to the stage and no one was gonna get in it with me. It was a great time!

This was my brother’s first concert and I’m kind of a concert junkie. I’ve got a list of bands I’ve seen live and bands I want to see. I’ve wanted to take him to see concerts for a while but he never really liked a band enough to see them. Then he snagged those tickets and gave them to me, so obv I had to take him.

Chris Stapleton was beyond anything I expected. I won’t lie, I was there for Hozier and Lord Huron but I wanted to listen to some of Chris. I didn’t expect him to sound almost exactly like his recordings. That man really has musical talent (which I mean I knew, but I didn’t know to what extent). By 10:30, my brother and I were exhausted. We been there since 5:30 and it was bedtime. As we left, someone handed Chris Stapleton their fuckin diploma to sign 😂. And he did.

Probably one of the best festivals I’ve been to!!

[allthingsfook]

Hello!!

I love how you do your ships, and I was wondering if I could get one as well! I’m also asking anonymously to hide my lane!

I’m a 5’4” girl with a petite build. I have long, wavy, light brown hair and brown eyes. I have a lot of Italian and Polish in me, and my family embraces those cultures! I have larger lips, and my smile is a feature I have a lot of confidence in.

My enneagram is literally tied between 2 (The Helper) and 7 (The Enthusiast). My love languages are Physical Touch and Quality Time, and my MBTI type is ENFJ. I’m also a Pisces! I’m always pretty optimistic, and I love making others laugh! I’m very empathetic, compassionate, and conscientious. I love making others feel loved. I tend to get in my head a lot- overthinking and stressing about things. To have someone who will talk things through with me and offer reassurance would be lovely.

I’m pretty adventurous, too, and I love having fun! I feel like I can make a good time almost out of anything! I love exploring abandoned buildings, museums, nature, shops, everything!! I also enjoy learning new skills. I just taught myself to knit, crochet, and play the bass guitar (which I adore doing). I love to cook (especially Italian!), bake, read, write, paint- I want to try whatever I can get my hands on. I love Old Hollywood and studying WW2, and from that I’ve developed a love of swing dancing.

I listen to a little bit of everything, including big band music, jazz, blues, classic rock, and indie rock. I also collect vinyls.

I know that’s a lot, but that pretty much sums me up completely!! Thank you so much in advance!! 💞

Hey Hey 🥰🥰 I love that you guys hide your lanes. It makes this so much more fun 😆

From what I read, I ship you with…

Josh 💕

Josh no doubt falls for a beautiful smile… and from the moment he meets you he’ll dream about your full lips! When you finally share your first kiss, it will be the most electrifying feeling 😊

Josh would be interested in your cultures. Stuff like that peaks his curiosity. Everything from traditional values to food to celebrations to customs. He’d beg you to make him hearty Italian dishes! The majority of Frakenmuth is German, but I’m sure Josh has some elaborate story of all the heritage in his family. He’d totally make you try beer out of a stein 😂🍺

Being the helper and enthusiast really jives well with Josh. In his present form, Josh talks a lot about being a troubadour and exploring the world. He values his freedom and ability to embrace the world. That really speaks to your enthusiast. The helper has a lot to do with love. While Josh is sort of scared of the idea of domestication, he has huge love. Love for the world and everything on it. If the right person came into his life, I feel he would be able to adjust to sharing his intimate life with someone. That might be you 🤍

No doubt physical touch is Josh’s #1 love language 😆

I really would like to see what personality type Josh is from his own accounts 🙂 I think he is quite in line with the ENFJ type. Straight from the source: “Protagonists feel called to serve a greater purpose in life.” Josh to a T!!!! You both certainly have the drive to create a positive impact on those around you. I encourage you to read the information on ENFJ with Josh in mind. It’ll either change or enhance the way you see him already 🤍🤍😊😊

Josh would be the perfect person to sit down with, talk through life, and seek out pure reassurance. Josh would always have just the right words for you. Combining that with his sweet touch, you’d feel so safe and accepted with him.

All seriousness aside, Josh is always up for a new adventure. His love for trying new things clearly would keep your relationship exciting! I would really like to see Josh exploring an abandoned or haunted building. Wonder what his views are on that…. Guess we will have to add that to the list of wonders 😂 He would marvel at your knack for picking new things up and excelling in them. He’d certainly try to craft with you. I can see him making you a keychain or something like that 😂 Kind of frivolous, but the sweet look on his face when he presents it to you would be worth clipping it on your keys.

I think the most adorable thing would be Josh trying to learn to dance with you!!!! You know how giggly he gets when he dances. He’s no Frankie Manning, but he would try to be just for you. A plus is you’d get to see him topple on his butt a few times 😆 Even if he isn’t the best dance partner, his favorite part would be listening to the music. He’d place a Jumpin’ Joz Band record on the player and bebop over to you, eager to spin and flail you around!

I hope you enjoy this!! Let me know what you think 🤍🤍💗💗

[marsmarvel02]

"What Manny Can't Fix" Review: Chapter 7

Welcome back and welcome again to my review/riffing of "What Manny Can't Fix", a poorly-written Handy Manny fanfic.

Today, we're covering Chapter 7, which is really frickin' long for some reason. If you'd like to start this review from the beginning, Chapter 1 is here.

Chapter 7

Turner was able to find the commercial district fairly easily….if it could be called that. Despite there being a long strip of buildings quite a few of them seemed abandoned.

This doesn’t really jive with the “really low crime rate” Sheetrock Hills supposedly has.

Turner stopped to stare at one of the buildings. It had faded green and blue paint, and it sat atop cracked yellow stone.

He got closer to the glass door and peered inside. The ground had dusty brown tiles, and the walls were covered in light yellow, chipping paint. Basically, the inside was a total mess.

I feel bad for whoever gets this dump next….

Turner? Feeling bad for someone? No… //eye roll//

Hopping passed another abandoned building he came across the bakery. Aha! There it is!

Turner went over to one of the windows and looked inside. There was a middle aged woman with a yellow flower placed in her graying auburn hair. She wore a white apron over a purple blouse covered in flowers, and had dark pink glasses resting on her face.

Wow, another character with an actual, semi-detailed physical description!

Swift said to check the dumpster, right? That’s gotta be in the back.

Turner hopped around behind the bakery, into an alleyway. He felt a shiver go down his back as he looked for the dumpster.

As he took a step in, he stopped. 

The bat let out a horrifying screech as he bared his claws to Turner.  He gripped tightly as the screwdriver flailed in his grasp. He let out screams for help and they bat ascended into the air.

Wow! Turner had a flashback of reasonable length!

Turner stood in the alley for a moment, completely frozen. Then he held his breath as he rushed out of there.

Turner ran down the sidewalk, not even noticing he’d left the commercial district. He leaned against a building, trying to catch his breath.

What’s wrong with me!? I shouldn’t be scared of a dumb old alleyway! Ugh, I didn’t even find anything to bring back! Maybe Teeth will understand….

“But not before I gave him a nasty cut on the hand!”

…..Or not….

He looked around again, now realizing he was almost out of the commercial part of the town, and nearing the residential area. 

He’s gonna run into a human.

Okay…Maybe there’s something out here I can bring back…

Turner picked a house at random, and headed to the backyard, looking for their trash can. It’s gotta be around here somewhere….

“Hola, destornillador azul!” [“Hiya, blue screwdriver!”]

Called it.

And I’m betting I know who this is.

Turner was startled by the voice and jumped slightly. When he turned around he saw a young boy in a green shirt and a red cap.

Wow! Seven chapters in and the guy whose name is in the title of the fanfic finally shows up!

“Estas perdido?” [“Are you lost?”] He asked.

What did he say? Ugh, you’d think I would’ve picked up more Spanish living here…

“Uh ... No hablo mucho español.” [“I don’t speak much Spanish”, although I’m not sure I really need to translate that.] Turner replied.

“Oh. Do you speak English?” The boy asked.

Turner nodded. 

The boy leaned down to his level. “Are you lost?”

“Uh...yeah...kinda…” Turner said. “Am I still in Sheetrock Hills?”

The boy giggled a bit. “Yep!”

Why… did he… giggle.

All right good….if I just get back to where I was before I can probably find my way ba-

“My name’s Manny! What’s yours?” He asked, excitedly.

“Turner.” He said, already starting to leave. However, suddenly he was hoisted in the air, tightly in Manny’s grip. “H...hey! Let me go!”

“Where are you going?”

“What do you care!?” Turner asked, trying to squirm out of his grasp.

Manny frowned. “You said you were lost, I wanna help you.”

Turner groaned. “I can get back by myself! Now if you’d just let me go, I-”

“Are you hungry? My abuelito just made tamales!” 

Good thing this too-friendly kid didn’t encounter Teeth.

“Look kid, I said…..Wait, did you say tamales?” Turner asked.

Manny nodded. “Yeah! They’re the best!”

Maybe I’ll have something to bring back after all….

Turner forced a smile. “ Suuuure , I’d love a tamale.” 

Okay, that’s actually pretty funny.

“Great!” Manny said. He tightened his grip on Turner as he rushed inside. He set Turner down on the table. Manny grabbed a plate and put it in front of Turner.

The smell was amazing, and it looked delicious! 

Manny used the side of the fork to cut off a piece of the tamale and held it out towards Turner. 

He took a bite and was surprised at how good it was.

Just deleting some tamales from existence, nothing to see here…

“Do you like it?” Manny asked, his eyes wide in excitement. 

“Yeah, it’s really good!” Turner said, impressed.

“Abuelito is the best cook!” Manny said. “He makes great tortillas too!”

“Tortillas  you say?” Turner asked, suddenly more interested. Maybe if I come back I can get some of those to bring back too!

“Yeah!” Manny giggled. “And he puts vegetables from his garden in them too! They’re muy delicioso!” [“Very delicious”, although that’s another obvious translation.]

I should probably get this  tamale back before they start wondering where I am.

“I...I’m sure they are.” Turner said, now sounding a bit rushed. “Now uh, I really have to get going. “Can you put this in a bag or something for me. I uh, want to finish it later.”

I’d love to see how Turner carries the bag.

“Oh okay.” Manny frowned as he got up from his chair to grab a plastic bag. “Will I see you again?”

Turner froze. He wants to see me again? Why? I hardly even know this kid! Why does he care if he sees me again?

“Uh, yeah, sure, sure…” Turner said, as Manny helped tie the bag to his handle. 

I was just expecting this fanfic to engage in the “phantom limb psychokinesis” trope that basically every cartoon whose characters shouldn’t logically be able to hold things uses, but this is golden.

Manny smiled. “Great! Hasta luego!” [“See you later!”]

Yeah…..sure…..what are the chances I’ll ever see this kid again?

Things from highbrow literature that look really stupid when a bad fanfic engages in them #2: Dramatic irony.

Plunker-

Oh COME ON!

-was still filled with uncertainty as she watched Mr Grover pack up his bags. The walls once lined with repair supplies now seemed so empty and barren.

She sighed a bit, slinking into the corner.

“Are you okay?” Tapper asked, sitting beside her. 

“No…” She sighed. “Things have just been...so much, lately. I...I don’t know what to do.”

Tapper nuzzled against her, allowing her to relax for a moment.

“It’s okay, Plunker.” He said, gently. “I’m here for you, okay?”

Plunker sniffled, resting her face in Tapper’s neck. She sat there in silence for a moment before mumbling, “Do you think Turner’s okay?”

I honestly have no idea what to commentate these Plunker parts with, because everything I have to say about them I’ve already said.

Tapper sighed slightly. “I...I don’t know.”

“I feel so guilty.” She cried.

“Why?” Tapper frowned. “From what you told me, it doesn’t sound like your fault. It seems like it was an accident.”

“But if he was in the toolbelt, then he would-”

Tapper nuzzled her closer. “Shh, shh it’s okay, it’s okay.” He wiped the tears out of her eyes.

Plunker relaxed slightly into his touch, trying her best to calm herself. She looked around the workshop, tears still stinging her eyes.

Mr Grover kept putting everything into boxes, with help from Bolt and Claspy. Plunker averted her gaze and hid her face in Tapper’s neck.  How did they move on so fast?.....And what about me?

Turner made his way back to Teeth and the others, dragging the tamale behind him.

Teeth approached him. “So what did ya find?”

“I told him where the bakery was. He probably found something really good there!” Swift said.

“You better have brought some of those ombligo cookies.” Twist teased as she hopped over.

“Uh, cookies? No.” Turner said, putting the bag in between them. “But I did get this.”

“Is that….a tamale?” Twist asked, her eyes widening in excitement.

“Yep.” Turner said, beaming with pride.

“I haven’t had tamales in forever!” Twist said. She turned to Teeth. “Can we eat it now!?”

“Well it’s gonna go bad if we don’t.” Teeth chuckled.

Swift got closer and examined the tamale. “This...came from the bakery?”

“Er…” Turner paused. What am I supposed to tell her? That I got too scared to go behind the most cheery looking bakery in existence!? “....Yes.”

Swift looked at the tamale again and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I’ve never seen anything like this end up in the dumpster.”

“I uh err…”

And they’re not wondering who tied the bag?

“Hey, don’t question it, hermana.” [“Sister”] Twist said before taking a huge bite. “This is a gift!” 

Swift still seemed unsure, but she joined in eating the tamale with the others.

I think we’ve had enough “deleting food from existence” jokes for now.

That night, Turner laid beside the trash cans again, snuggling into the same fabric as he had last night.

“That was a great find!” Twist said.

“Yep!” Turner said. “I knew I’d be a natural at this….just like everything else…”

Twist laughed. “Well, you’re not a natural at being humble.”

Turner scoffed. “Well what did you find?”

“A loaf of bread.” Twist said, still laughing a bit. “But I still think you brought the best thing back.”

So someone just threw out an entire loaf of bread?

She let out a small sigh as she laid back. “I missed having tamales...Although I didn’t love them as much as my brother did.” She chuckled a bit. 

Turner paused for a moment, thinking of how she’d talked about her brother-

Who is very, very, very, very definitely not going to be Felipe.

-when he first met her.

“I’m sure my brother’s glad I’m gone...now he can be the star screwdriver...just like he always wanted.”

He frowned. “Did you get along with your brother?”

“Huh?” Twist sat up, sounding confused. 

“You didn’t really seem too happy talking about him before.” Turner said.

“Oh...right….” She frowned. “...I feel like he was always trying to one up me. He was always bragging about how he was the best screwdriver! It was so annoying! Every time there was a repair, he’d insist he could do it….even if we needed a different tool!”

Reminds me of some of the contestants on Canada’s Worst Handyman.

Well, sorta. They subscribed to the All-Solving Hammer or the All-Solving Duct Tape, not the All-Solving Screwdriver. 

Twist groaned. “I’m glad he’s gone…” She laid back down and stared at the sky.

Turner did too, zoning out into his own thoughts. Her brother sounds annoying….good thing I’ll never have to deal with him…

Another attempt at dramatic irony?

Next Tuesday Teeth-

Forgot a comma

- set out assignments again to look for food.

“Turner, since you did so well in Sheetrock Hills last time, I’m sending you there again.” Teeth said.

Turner beamed with pride. “Of course.”

“Do you need me to help you get there again?” Swift asked.

“Nah, I can get there on my own.” Turner said, already starting to head off. 

“And you better bring back something as good as last time!” Teeth called after him.

“Don’t worry, I will!” Turner called back. I hope….

Turner paused in front of the alleyway behind the bakery and exhaled deeply. All right...I’m going to do it this time….I’m really going to do it this time! I’m gonna go behind there, grab something from the dumpster, and hurry back to the others...okay...I can do this…

Turner took one hop into the alleyway. I can do this….

Can he do this?

Another hop. I can do thi-

No he can’t! 

Suddenly there was a loud crash as a raccoon pushed down a nearby trash can onto the ground.

“Some of these trash cans are soooo stuuuupid!” 

He yelped and rushed out of there. I can’t do this! I can’t do this!

Turner ran off, not looking back. Soon, he found himself on the outskirts of the commercial district again. 

Great….I still can’t do it! What’s wrong with me!? Now what am I going to do!?

Turner thought for a moment. What was that kid’s name again? Manny, right? Didn’t he say his abuelito had a garden? Maybe I can take something from there! Perfect!”

Hey, another unpaired quotation mark! Was he supposed to be thinking aloud?

Turner headed to the neighborhood he had been in last week. He scanned the houses on the block, trying to remember which house was the right one. He was about to give up, when he heard a small groan coming from one of the backyards.

Curious, Turner decided to investigate. When he got into the backyard, Turner saw Manny standing over a small pile of wood, looking defeated.

Should I say something? Turner asked himself.-

And should I also add a comma there?

- His eyes landed on the small vegetable garden, only a few feet away from the boy.

Turner internally sighed. If I’m going to have any chance of bringing something back, I’m going to have to….”

Another unpaired quote mark!

Man, Eats, Shoots and Leaves could do a whole chapter just on this fanfic’s unique abuses of punctuation.

Turner cleared his throat as he hopped over to him. “H..hey there Manny!”

The boy’s eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across his face. 

“Turner!”  He grabbed the screwdriver and pulled him to his chest in an attempt to give him a hug. 

Turner let out a small, unsure chuckle as the boy held him closer. He didn’t hate this, but he was certainly confused. Mr Grover never did anything like this…

A few moments later, Manny pulled back, still looking excited, “I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again!”

“Yeah, me neither kid, me neither…”  Turner laughed awkwardly, his eyes already on a huge, red, ripe tomato growing in this kid’s abuelito’s garden. He knew he couldn’t just ask for a tomato right away, so instead he turned his gaze to the pile of wood by Manny’s feet. “So, uh...Watch’a working on there?”

Manny frowned a bit and grabbed a piece of wood with his free hand. “Oh...this….” He sighed. “Abeulito gave me a model car set, but I don’t have anyway to put it together.”

“Well, that’s an easy fix!” Turner scoffed. “Just get some good, old flathead screw, and that’ll get the job done!”

Yes, some good old flathead “screw”. Apparently one is enough.

Wow, the conventions errors I said weren’t really there have started surfacing like fish being tossed breadcrumbs.

“That’s a great idea Turner!” Manny said

“Of course it is.” Turner replied.

Manny paused for a moment in thought, his tone turning shy. “Uh...Turner?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Can… can you h..help me?”

Turner’s eyes widened. “W...what?”

That’s n-not how you n-notate a st-stutter. 

“Can you help me with the car?” Manny asked.

“Uh….” Turner looked away. “....Why...me?”

“Because you’re a flathead screwdriver.”

“Oh, right...right…” Turner sighed before looking back at Manny. “Listen, kid, I don’t really do the whole repair thing anymore.”

Manny frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s kinda a long story.” Turner said.

“No, it’s okay.” Manny said gently. “If you don’t want to do it, I’m not going to force you to.”

“Really?” Turner asked, slightly surprised.

Manny nodded. “Friends don’t do that to each other.”

Friends?

“Uh...right…”

“Do you want to come with me while I get the screws?” Manny asked.

“Oh uh sure.” Turner said. 

Manny picked up Turner and headed to the garage. He went over to the work bench and looked through a few small boxes.

“I found the screws!” Manny said. He paused and looked around. “But I can’t find the screwdriver.”-

As I’ve mentioned, the world of Handy Manny has both sentient tools and “normal” inanimate tools. Don’t expect an explanation, either from this fanfic or from the show itself.

- He sighed a bit and put the screws back. “I guess I’ll just wait until I can buy crafting glue.”

“Crafting glue?” Turner asked. “No, no, no! That is not going to hold up as well as flathead screws!”

For some reason I’m hearing that line in an Andrew Younghusband voice.

“But I don’t have a flathead screw-”

Turner leapt into Manny’s hand.

Manny looked confused. “But I thought you didn’t want to?”

“This is an exception.” Turner said. “I’m not letting you ruin your model car with craft glue!”

I’m reminded of the Calvin And Hobbes strip where Calvin tried to glue together a model aircraft.

The operative word there being “tried”.

Manny giggled as he grabbed the box of screws. “Gracias, Turner.”

I don’t need to translate that, right?

They headed back to the yard and sat by the pile of wood. Manny grabbed the instructions and the corresponding pieces of wood before grabbing a screw out of the box. He looked at Turner. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Turner said.

Manny put the screw in place and got Turner in place. Turner screwed the screw into place before moving on to the next piece. Turner didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, but he knew it felt nice. Doing a repair again made him feel...good. 

I’m amazed that the writer managed to avoid the minefield of innuendos surrounding screws and screwdrivers.

Well, mostly.

When they got the last wheel on the model car, Turner felt a little empty, but he didn’t understand why.  What’s wrong with me lately!? It was just a repair, I shouldn’t feel emotional about this. It’s not like it’s a big deal….it was just one more repair….

Another thought came to mind: What if Teeth finds out? He’d understand...right?

“He wanted to replace me, so I left before he could shove me into the scrap metal bin….but not before I gave him a nasty cut on the hand!”

So, earlier when Turner recalled Teeth saying (part of) this line, the recalled quote wasn’t in quotation marks, but now this one is? 

Or not….

And that quote was also preceded by Turner wondering if Teeth would understand what he did, and followed by an “Or not…”

“This looks great!” Manny said, holding up the model car. “Let's test it out!”

Manny went over to the porch and set the car down, Turner following close behind him He rolled it back and forth a few times before letting it go, and letting it roll across the porch. “It works perfectly!”

Missing period!

He picked up Turner and hugged him again. “Thanks Turner!”

“No problem, kid.” Turner said, a small smile forming on his face. It wasn’t until his eyes landed on the vegetable garden again, that he remembered why he was there in the first place. “Oh, uh, hey kid? Is it okay if I have a tomato from your abuelito’s garden?”

“Oh, si!” Manny said. “Of course! Let me get a bag for you!”

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you delete some of his tomatoes from existence!” 

Manny went inside, leaving Turner on the porch. He’s a pretty nice kid. He sighed a bit, feeling his stomach churn a bit.- The matter-erasure nexus has been disturbed! The universe could be doomed!

- Would he be upset if he found out why I came back?

The felt- Who the heck is this new character and why are they named “The”? - the knot in his stomach tie tighter as guilt started to rear its ugly head. Why does it even matter!? I hardly even know this kid!

He tried to ignore these emotions as Manny with a plastic shopping bag.

As Manny what with a plastic shopping bag?

“How many do you want?” He asked with a wide smile.

“Uh, is two okay?” Turner asked.

“Si! Of course!” Manny headed over to the garden with Turner and knelt down, putting two fresh tomatoes in the bag.

Turner felt the guilt in stomach again, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Wiat.- “My name is Manny, not Wyatt!”

- Is your abuelito okay with this?”

Manny looked confused. “With what?” Taking some tomatoes?”

Turner nodded. Why did I even say anything!? There’s no way he’s going to give me any tomatoes now!

“Of course he is!” Manny giggled.

“Wait...r...really?” Turner asked, in slight surprise. 

“Si!” Manny said. “My abuelito said I can have as many vegetables as I want when I come over! And he said it was okay to share with mi amigos, my friends, like you!”

“Plus, if I give these to you I can tell my abuelito I ate them myself, and he’ll give me candy as a reward for eating my veggies! That’s the whole reason he even gives me unrestricted access to his garden, you know. Trying to make me ‘eat healthy’.”

There was that word again...friend. Turner still didn’t know how to comprehend being called that. He wasn’t really sure if he’d ever really had a friend before. A team and an owner, sure, but a friend? He wasn’t sure if he considered Manny one.

After all the only reason he had come back was for the food, not for Manny himself.

Missing comma!

Maybe Twist, Teeth, and Swift are my friends? Teeth let me join the gang, Twist and I have...talked...and Swift showed me how to get to Sheetrock Hills…

“Turner? Are you okay?” Manny asked, with a slight frown.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine...I’m fine…” Turner replied, coming out of his thoughts.

Manny gently tied the plastic shopping bag over Turner’s handle like last time.

Just how small are shopping bags in Sheetrock Hills?!

“Thanks.” Turner said.

“No problema!” Manny said, with a wide grin. “Will I see you again?”

Turner stayed silent for a moment before smiling gently, “Of course, kid.”

Is it just me or was this chapter really long for some reason?

[ceilingfan5]

@taznovembercelebration soup/dessert

“You’ve made five kinds of soup.” Kravitz is stunned, honestly, partially because he was expecting Taako to be asleep when he got home, not attempting to vibrate through the kitchen ceiling in their little apartment. 

“Yep,” Taako says, proud and also watching him intently for a reaction. Kravitz isn’t exactly sure what that’s going to be. 

“Why do you have five crockpots?”

“Well,” Taako laughs, exasperated. “Why do you think?”

“For multiple, yeah, I, I walked into that, one, um,” Kravitz stares at the pot luck on his kitchen counter. “Can you- why did you make five kinds of soup, though?”

“Well,” Taako repeats, putting more emphasis on it this time. He keeps fidgeting with his hands–picking off his black nail polish, fixing his buttons, tapping the counter. “The wonders of modern convenience, are a, uh, a miracle, of the- what century is it now?”

“Twenty-first,” Kravitz says, incredibly fond. 

“And it turns out if you just pay a hideous fee, you can have any kinds of products and sundries delivered to your door, although I wasn’t terribly impressed by the onions they gave me–N'ont-ils jamais vu un bon oignon? Embarrassing. But anyway I bought a few things to try out because I got excited and I didn’t need to work today because I finished my project yesterday, and we just made that deal, and I know the cooking for you wasn’t part of it per se, but- but if I’m going to drink your blood I want you to be eating well, and-”

“Taako,” Kravitz says, rather slowly. “You don’t have to feed me.”

“No, I don’t, obviously, that would be-” he laughs again, “Ridiculous, I just- I got excited. And I haven’t cooked in so long. And the problem with soup. Is the waiting.”

“So you made five soups.”

“Are you going to eat the soups or not?” Taako screws up his face in embarrassed distress. “Should I just throw them away? It’s too much. Obviously it’s too much, I shouldn’t- It’s not like we’re, I just-” Kravitz is struck with the realization that if Taako could, he’d be blushing, and it’s a wild glimpse into his humanity. So to speak. He’s filled with affection that is beyond roommaterly, and he shoves it down and tries not to choke on it. They can’t be having a blood money arrangement and also kissing. It simply wouldn’t be right. 

Right?

“I’m going to eat the soups,” he says, smiling, putting Taako out of his misery. And putting a hand on Taako’s. You know, like roommates do. “What should I try first?” 

“Well,” Taako perks up like a dandelion in a coffee mug full of adderall. “If you’re a traditionalist, you’ll be entranced by my chicken noodle, this recipe is centuries old, and it’s perfect. Even if the onion is lacking. But if you’re feeling funky, maybe the cheesy broccoli is your jive. And then we’ve got…”

Kravitz absolutely hears the other words. They go in his ears and his ear drums wiggle and the sound goes right into his brain…and right back out again, because he’s in love with his vampire roommate, and he could listen to him talk about cooking all day. He truly can’t believe himself. 

“What about dessert?” he hears himself asking, and Taako smiles so big, Kravitz should win a trophy for the restraint it takes not to kiss him. 

[vinylhazza]

hey baby i know you probably have a lot to do and concepts but i’m just so amazed at the way you write that i felt the need to ask you for this concept. I just want you to write and vividly describe a good fuck with gray and just having mind blowing orgasm idk i just think you would write some reallllyy hot things w this. ( also sorry if i had any errors english is not my first language hehe ok byee) love u morgan. i always appreciate all of ur work🤍🤍🤍 no pressure if u don’t wanna do this

pairing: grayson dolan x f!reader 

warnings: degradation, fingering, oral sex (female receiving ), PinV sex 

to have your back pressed against his front door, graysons knee rubbing you torturously between your legs, his hand wrapped securely around your throat, his lips assaulting yours with vicious fervor, his low moans music to your ears — it was your strange idea of heaven.

“bratty little bitch-“ he breathes into your mouth now, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth before his tongue is swirling with yours again “-always have something to say.”

his crude words send a shiver running down your spine, sparking up that side only he gets to see. sure you’d cause an unnecessary argument in a very crowded club where he couldn’t punish you like he’d wanted to right away, but to be called a bratty bitch? it was like christmas. you love when he gets mean with you.

you were just so needy for him and instead of coming home to show you some much needed attention after his latest business trip with ethan, he was dragging you to that stupid fucking club where you had to admire his new haircut and five o’clock shadow like you weren’t soaking your panties. you had clenched your thighs together all night, trying to relieve some of the pressure pulsing around your clit - but it was useless. you needed him. 

shaking your head you turn your face away with a smile, eyes shimmering, chest swelling with that same feeling of accomplishment, knowing how much he hates when you reject his kisses. “i’m not a brat.”

you’re so close to what you want. so close to that hard fucking you can’t stop thinking about. just at your fingertips, dangling like meat to a tiger. ferocious you did feel, ready to devour him after waiting so long. 

growling at your clear display of defiance, he grabs at your chin tight with his fingers to tug your lips back to his, mashing yours now with a frustrated grunt. tugging at your bottom lip yet again, you feel the slickness of his tongue teasing at the reddening skin - testing the waters. he knows you love the slow burn of his foreplay, the way he can electrify every touch against your skin, make your head cloudy with lust only for him. 

“you are and you love that you can make me this mad. love that i take you back home and split you in half with my dick because i can, because you deserve it, because you need me.” he mocks you with a grin, humming these words as his lips ghost over yours, his forehead pressed against you, his eyes staring right through you - black pits of desire.

“what makes you think you’re the only one that can fuck me right, huh gray? what about seth? i’m sure he’d love to have a go at this while you’re away-“ your sly comment is quickly stifled by graysons fingers being stuffed in your mouth, warm against your tongue.

you moan around his digits, sucking the best you can and slicking your tongue on the underside of them, batting your eyelashes innocently. he watches your pathetic attempt to please him with a sickeningly sweet smile of his own, his hips now rolling against yours. 

he jives his hips forward, front pressing to yours again and again, the friction pulling his own eyebrows down in an endearing pout you have the sudden urge to kiss away. 

you can feel how hard he’s grown through his pants and what it must be doing to him that you’re giving him this power over your body. he lives for this shit — the nights he can be as rough as he wants and knows you want it all. the material is much too tight now, increasingly obvious to him now that he’s got you home and your throat in his hand. he watches you eye his package with a hum of understanding.

“seth touches this pussy and you’re both dead, you understand?” his breath is hot on your ear, his hands greedy on your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. his words are possessive, his tone firm and unwavering. it leaves no room for argument. 

when you can’t find the strength to nod or even whimper at his words he’s grabbing at your throat again and slamming you gently back against the door, dark eyes trained on you. “do you understand me?”

when words fail you, tilting your chin up to seal your lips is answer enough, and you work your lips against his to show just how much you love hearing him so angry over the thought of another mans hands touching you. seth is a good friend, one that tries to flirt too much to no avail, but no one you would want especially with the way grayson is everything you’d ever need, want, desire and more. 

Grayson has seen too many times the way he friends take longing looks in your direction, staking a peak when they think he isn’t looking. he’s always looking, clearing his throat when he energy shift from innocent to something he’s not okay with. 

winding your hands into his fluffed up brown hair, you pull his face harder against yours, sighing against his lips, licking at the chapstick taste you’d left behind on his lips. strawberries and cream. on his trip he would think of the familiar taste and smile, he just wanted you close all the time even if it wasn’t realistic. you, you, and only you always. the thought of it has him sighing as well, sinking into your touch with his hands on either side of your face. 

“did you miss me, baby?” he smiles at your hands in his hair, feeling for the first time all night that he had you all to himself, not shared between your friends and the music. “i missed these lips, missed your perfume, missed your silly pajamas, fuck even missed your attitude.”

“mmm, missed you gray” nodding, your arms wrap around his neck in a hug, chest pressed flat against his, back arched to be as close as physically possible. 

your hips are moving against the leg between your thighs, the dull ache low in your tummy growing with the friction of his dress pants working against the material of your thong. you needed more, just something more, anything more.

knowing you need more than a rub through fabric, you feel his strong arms picking you up and wrapping your bare legs around his waist, your dress bunched up at your hips. feeling the heat of him radiating through your panties and to your center was maddening, a low purr settled at the back of your throat, obviously ready for him.

“this what you wanted?” grayson growls just then, fingers working at your zipper and yanking it down your back himself, ready to sink himself in you after far too long. against every nerve in his body, he decides he’s going to tease you just a bit more, get you as wet as he can, make you suffer for being the brat he loves to tame. 

“just wanted you,” your whiny voice is his favorite, pathetic and messy and raw. “wanted you all the time.”

instead of answering, he’s tossing you onto the bed with a huff, finally marching you both down the hallway where he can see all of you in the lamplight. he’s looking down on you from the end of the bed, tugging his shirt off of his shoulders and undoing his own zipper even though he knows you love to do it for him, smirking at the way your hungry eyes follow his agonizingly slow movements.

your doe eyes watch him happily and you could just bounce with joy at how easy it was for you to wrap him around your finger. 

you’re thoughts are quickly silenced when he speaks again, amber eyes stern. 

“show me what you did when i was away, i know you played with that little pussy. can’t control yourself even for a few days,” graysons grumbles to himself, eyes on you while he tosses away his pants, stroking himself languidly. he’s stripped completely now, sweaty even now from the reality of the situation. you’re here, willing, begging, ready. 

his hard eyes burn your skin, flames licking across your nerves until you find your own hands removing the unzipped dress from your body inch by inch to leave you in your matching bra and panty set - blush pink and exactly what he didn't need to see in order to stick to his plan of being patient.

grayson groans at the sight of you, angelic and blushing atop his sheets that haven’t been touched in two weeks. he wants to reach out and caress the skin of your stomach, soft and supple, rip your bra down and take one of your budding nipples in his mouth, suck a mark into your neck, but refrains for the sake of the tension building. he wants to see just how bad you want his hands on you, how bad you want him to touch you.

having him watch you was enough to making you obey his orders, submissively nodding up to him. 

slipping your thumbs under the band of your tiny little number, you slowly drag the fabric across the skin of your legs and around the high heels still strapped around your ankles.

embarrassed that you forgot them, you reach for the clasp hastily, trying fumble around with it until you hear his deep voice rumble from the end of the bed again- stopping you.

“leave them on.”

looking at him quizzically, you remove your hands slowly, instead moving around your back to unclip your bra to swing it onto the floor, now bare chested and breathless from him watching you.

the hungry look in his eyes gives you a boost of confidence, spreading yourself open and trailing your hand down your stomach to your bundle of nerves you rub gentle circles on - staring into his eyes and challenging him to come closer. you drag a finger through your slick, spreading it around until the sound of your fingers hits your ears and makes you blush. you were so wet, humiliatingly wet. 

“that all you do? rub yourself all soft and shit?” he smirks, still steadily stroking his own cock arrogantly. he has nothing to be ashamed of, he knows how badly you wanted him inside of you, and you weren’t getting anything until you gave him exactly what he wanted. 

tweaking an eyebrow at his mockery, you find your ring and middle finger inching inside of you now, finger fucking yourself in front of him with soft pants and whines. fire spreads in your belly, and you stoke the embers with every thrust of your own wrist. you fight to keep your eyes open, remembering the times he gave in from eye contact alone, and wondered - hoped - it would work in your favor this time. 

the squelching sound of your dripping cunt has grayson throwing his head back with an agonized groan, a rumble that has your wrist working faster, his own hand tugging in quick strokes. he dips another hand down to play with his balls,  closing his eyes and thinking if your manicured hands doing it instead, thrusting into his fist quicker yet. 

wanton moans tumble from your lips, already so close to the place that makes you see stars, but holding back at the promise of him fucking you to pieces. he hates to see you so clearly struggling, but loves to hear you beg too much to stop himself from the strain he’s putting you through. his pretty little girl, pistoning her fingers inside her own cunt just by the sight of him jerking his own cock - a whore just for him. 

“I want- I need-” you whine, fucking yourself faster but not enough to make the warm ball of pressure explode like you want so desperately. 

he can see the desperation in the way your eyebrows knit together, and the way your  other hand reaches around to toy with your clit, your eyes shutting despite your fight to keep them open, mouth agape. 

“you need what, honey? want me to make it all better, huh? you want daddy to make it better?” he mocks you still, speaking in hushed tones due to the own pleasure spreading throughout his body from his own movements around his cock. he tightens his fist, thumb rubbing at the pre-cum leaking from his slit. sucking in a sharp brush through his teeth, he shakes with sensitivity - mind racing with thoughts of your tight pussy and how It would feel to give in and sink inside you to the hilt. 

[silversatoru]

Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨 🚪

maid cafe

a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud

eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader

synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to

tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use

word count: 3.4k

“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.

eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn��t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.

“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.

“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”

“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.

“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.

the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.

armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.

the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.

everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.

as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.

“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.

two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.

he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.

not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.

but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?

he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.

“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.

“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.

eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.

his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.

“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.

armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.

“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”

you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”

the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.

when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.

“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.

“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.

“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.

“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.

for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.

“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.

“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.

“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.

you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.

“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.

without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.

after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.

your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.

he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.

after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.

“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.

you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.

“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.

he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.

you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.

“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.

“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.

“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.

“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.

that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.

he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.

you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.

“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.

“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.

“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.

the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.

a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.

“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.

“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.

“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.

“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.

“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.

“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.

the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.

his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.

seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.

only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.

your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.

“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.

eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.

“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.

you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.

“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.

“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.

“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.

but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.

“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.

“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.

“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”

“r-round two?” you stuttered.

you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?

“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.

you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Ik your request is off, but when your request is open can u write dating headcanons with Kazuha ? I like your works so much which is y i send u a request hehe

No rush please take care author-nim :'D

This is a long time coming, but I’m glad to know that you’re still a Kazuha simp even after all this time ahahha thank you for your kind words and I hope you like this!!

Kazuha Dating Headcanons

How it’s like “being with” the fugitive wandering samurai. (masterlist)

Beforehand

The whole dating thing is entirely dependent on when you met or known Kazuha. So for this one, we establish that you and Kazuha are friends even before he became a fugitive.

Your clan and the Kaedahara clan are known to be close, and that’s how you’ve known your childhood friend. You’re always together during the peace time of Inazuma, sometimes getting into trouble due to his wayfaring nature.

Your family tried desperately to help the Kaedahara clan with their financial issues but it wasn’t exactly enough to maintain such a large clan. Soon enough the samurai clan lost its power, and what remains of their abode became foreign as a more powerful clan reclaimed it.

But despite all of that, Kazuha’s happiness is your main priority and you’re relieved that despite the misfortune the young master felt more freer than ever. He leaves the sheltered life behind with the promise to visit you as frequent as he could.

And that he does, even when the vision hunt decree was enacted, even when it’s unsafe to be near the area where many eyes can identify him, Kazuha always kept his promises to visit and spend time with. And thankfully, with the history of your clans, your family are still ever so welcoming to his presence.

You even met his newfound friend (and his adorable cat!) during one of his visits, and Kazuha felt all the heaviness on his shoulders disappear when you two hit it off instantly! And after that visit he received a pat on the back and a thumbs up from his friend, telling him that he got his blessing.

This caused said friend to get smacked over the head by a flustered Anemo boy.

So when the news that he perished after issuing a duel before the throne came to you, the pain was just as bad as Kazuha’s anguish. That night you huddled together in the comforts of your room, weeping over your friend and the danger Kazuha now faces. Somehow all the peaceful times blurred into nothingness, the period of darker times and complications marked that day.

But you despite it all, Kazuha is still the honest man that he is, and he will fulfill his promises to the end: for you, for him, and for his slumbering friend.

Courting

Kazuha is a man of words and custom. Sometimes you think that his passion for poetry and wit were the things that made you fall for him, and he thought it was the best method to confess to someone as honorable as you.

So, yes, it was Kazuha who first confessed through a lengthy, poetic love letter that he left after sleeping over one night, something that he had planned many weeks ago yet kept to himself. Why would you want to be with someone who has nothing to his name? A person that you can’t spend time with freely, who prioritizes his selfish desire to be a vagabond than stay longer with you?

These thoughts stayed with him throughout the week that he avoided coming to your house and still lingered as he begrudgingly trudged up the hill to where your estate is, expecting the rejection at the sight of you waiting for him at the balcony of your room, his usual point of entry.

“YOU!” Kazuha was taken aback by the angry finger pointed at him, he was expecting something else, something sadder or guilty perhaps. Anger isn’t one of them - oh yeah, he did avoid you for a week, didn’t he? “You have the guts to drop this-” the sight of the letter in your hand made him physically recoil, “and then disappear for a week like nothing happened?! Come up here right now or I’m dropkicking your ass!”

Hurriedly, in main concern of your well-being, Kazuha used his elemental skill to jump up to the balcony - where he was met by a tight hug and you reciprocating his feelings. He hugs back in relief, before being smacked over the head for what he did.

Kazuha carries his hobby with him when you started dating, when you told him how nice it was and how you always feel flustered when it’s directed at you. Poetry, haikus, letters complimenting everything he loves about you when he knows it will take a while for him to come back. You have a special box filled with all his notes. And your favorite one:

My love is a butterfly Flies from hither to stay here forever In love and true perfection

On worse days when he’s there, at night he brings comfort by playing with his leaf, a skill of leaf-blowing he picked up from his travels and perfected for your sake. When there are times when you couldn’t sleep properly, he’s always there to pluck a leaf from the trees outside, playing a tune until you find the right comfort to rest. Usually in the company of his arms.

Kazuha absolutely loves cooking for you! When rare days comes that he is able to visit during daytime he likes to demonstrate his cooking skills, always assuring that he gets the freshest ingredients for you to eat. They’re barely a miss, like he knows your taste more than you. He takes a mental note of your favorites, your reactions and of course, your honest feedback.

The next time he comes over, he has enough to feed your family. Sometimes you feel your clan loves him more than you did.

When there are interesting things he’d encountered during his travels, he’s sure to tell you the best of them! These moments are like subtle nudges of him to convince you to join him on his adventures, enticing you with his stories to a life full of meaning and excitement out there.

More often than not at the end of his story sessions, despite knowing that it isn’t safe for you to go out (with or without him) he’ll always have this soft look in his eyes as he looks at you, smile so soft as he looks at you like a daydream, “I can’t wait to be with you out there.”

Kazuha loves it when he gets a reaction from you, whether it be your happiness or relief as he ascends to your home, genuine curiosity over his tales, the embarrassment when he makes a move, or even the worry when he comes back looking a little worse for wear.

Traveling with Kazuha

You’ve always lived a semi-sheltered life in Inazuma due to your protective clan, with your interaction mostly focused with the villagers of your area and the people in your estate. When the decree started, you barely go out now, your people feared that your Vision would be taken away if the Tenryou Commission were to see you.

It was also the main reason why despite Kazuha’s desire to show you a whole new world out there, he couldn’t ever prioritize his own feelings over your safety. It was also one of the main reasons he joined the Resistance: to make a better world for you so that he can be with you in a free world.

However, one day, a clan that’s in the favor of the Vision Hunt Decree snitched on you to the Tenryou Commission. And you were almost captured (as the only Vision holder in your clan) if not for Kazuha arriving at the last minute, fighting them off before escaping with you.

Your family was able to contact him before everything escalated, and decided that it was far more safer for you to be with him than stay at your clan. And so became your current life with Kazuha.

With a favor, Kazuha managed to get you to join the Crux Fleet. And it took a whole month before everyone (including Beidou) to find out about your relationship. This quiet boy? In a relationship with you?! Everyone calmly lost their shit, and there was a drinking party on board (for the rowdy adults).

It was warm, carefree and exciting. Despite your previous worries about the life you left behind, next to Kazuha in the middle of the ocean, somehow things ended up alright. Better even.

You jive with everyone quite well, especially with Beidou - the woman loves you to bits! Teasing you, pulling you around after finding out your backstory, as Kazuha awkwardly follows from behind in silence.

Whenever you’re around, Kazuha’s demure demeanor completely vanishes, from the mysterious kid that the crew didn’t know the name of for weeks turns into a rambunctious teen that’s only purpose is to make you crack a smile or laugh.

He is so down bad, everyone but you notices this, and soon he too became a huge target for teasing.

You’ve realized too that Kazuha smells a lot like the nature around him, sometimes the sea salt from the sea that you spend most of your days on, to the maple leaves of the forest near the docks of the cities you land in, or the musky, earthly scent of the mountains that you both trek.

Kazuha likes to be by your side every second of the day, as long as possible. And oh does he love teaching you things about the outside world, like how to tell the weather, the constellations in the sky, the inner workings of the ship.

He’s like a lovesick puppy trailing behind you. Sometimes he had to be physically removed away from you to help out on the ship, and the unlucky crew member who drags him away during a particularly bad mood gets the worst glare in their life. If they try to tell it to the others, the crew won’t believe him.

Kazuha Kaedahara had always been fascinated by you, and now that you’re here with him, he wouldn’t pass up to spend every second together. Anywhere in the world, with him you’ll be safe.

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @coka-cala @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @gojos-baby @volleybloop @tartuu @sassyglassesbunny @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @blissmal​ @upsetpotatoo​

[griffxnnage]

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: one sexual comment, food mentions, being dog piled

dis is for you @darthwheezely!! also, thank you @eloquenceflores for the idea!!

the weak morning sun peaked through the windows, shining on james’ face, accentuating his boyish beauty. he groaned and squinted his eyes, apparently not liking the light streaming through the curtains. “y/n…” he whined, his morning voice making your face go red.

“yea, jamie? what’s up?” you scooched closer to him, entwining his legs with yours to steal some of his warmth; he’s a living furnace, that’s for sure. “‘s too bright,” he covered his face with his hands, turning away from the accursed window.

“aww, poor baby,” you mimicked his pout, latching onto him like a little monkey.

“hey, whatcha doin there, koala bear?” he turned his head, smiling at your clinginess. “‘m cold,” you mumbled into his back, breathing in his distinct smell.

“well then, why didn’t you say so?” he giggled, turning back to face you. “lemme just,” he rolled on top of you, and let his body go limp. “james!!! you’re so heavy,” you laughed, all of the air being pushed out of your lungs by the quidditch player playing dead on top of you.

“well too bad, i’m staying put.” he chuckled, the sound reverberating through your body. “also, y/n,” he spoke into the pillows, his face hidden from view. “you do know what day it is, right?” he asked the pillows.

it was at that moment that the door to his dorm burst open, and two tall individuals entered.

“happy birthday, y/n!!” sirius and remus yelled, running into the room like a bunch of lunatics. “oi, cover up, we don’t want any image of you two shagging burned onto our eyelids,” sirius dropped what he was carrying and covered his eyes, forcing remus to turn around. “yea, guys, you don’t want to stain our poor, innocent souls, do you?” remus added. he shuddered when he fully turned around. making james laugh.

“come on, mates, there’s nothing to see. we’re both covered. your innocence shall be tarnish-free,” he finally pushed himself off of you, resulting in an “oof” from you. lying on his side, he motioned to his friends.

“so, weren’t you two maniacs saying something to our lovely y/n here?” he smirked at you, throwing a wink in there as well.

“right, happy birthday!!!” they both turned back around and sirius picked up the object that he’d previously dropped. by the time it was in your view, he’d already set it up on your bedside table. it was a portable record player, and sirius was about to drop the needle on a very worn looking record.

the all familiar glissando brought a smile to your face as nostalgic chords rang through your ears.

sirius, james and remus all jumped up on the bed, and started dancing like a bunch of idiots as the singing started.

“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life,” they sang, albeit a little bit off key, but it made your heart soar seeing the boys sing like that; without a care in the world.

“oooh, see that girl,” they all pointed at you, still lying down, covering your face with your hands.

“watch that scene, digging the dancing queen,” they quieted down to put you on your feet.

“come on, boys, i’m not ready to be standing yet,” you complained, ragdolling with sirius’ hands under your armpits. remus gabbed your ankles, and the two lanky gryffindors shared a mischievous glance. “oh no, i know that look. don’t you dare-” you started, but they began swinging you before you could say anything more.

“you are the dancing queeeeeen, young and sweeeeeet, only seventeeeeeen,” they sang while your stomach was doing somersaults. you couldn’t stop laughing, and once the song ended, they finally set you down, your stomach sore from all the laughter.

“happy 17th, y/n!!!” they all exclaimed simultaneously. you pulled them all in for a hug, thanking them. one of them lost their balance, and they all piled on top of you. “oh godric, not again,” you groaned, now under the weight of three teenagers.

“bloody hell, get off of meee,” you whined, trying your best to push them off. “nope,” came sirius’ voice from somewhere in the pile of marauders.

“we gotta go down to breakfast; mcgonagall will be in a tizzy if we don’t get there on time.” you protest, still slightly struggling for breath.

“well, can’t say no to breakfast, can we, gentleman?” remus sat up, and slid over to the door, his sock-clad feet giving him some serious speed. “we’ll meet you down there!!” sirius called from the hallway.

“how did he get out of here so fast?” you asked, truly bewildered at the true velocity the two boys could reach in mere seconds.

“who cares, love? let’s go down,” james sighed, stretching before standing up from the bed.

once you’d gotten dressed in one of his quidditch jumpers, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and wrapped an arm around you.

“you ready, birthday girl?” he smiled down at you.

“as i’ll ever be, jamesie. as i’ll ever be.”

general/hp taglist: @luvshack @henqtic @slytherclawbitch @amphxtrite @chaoswalkinq @nerdyblogger06 @wand3ringr0s3 @horrorxweasley @batcat46 @mollysolo @ohnoitsmekc @ildm4ev

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