#and most of the time--doesnt even mind it

[smiling-stel]

Ok so, im remembering someone else's point saying how Cale acts like a guardian to those younger than him but acts bratty n spoiled to those older (within respects still)

♡ Like how he cares a ton for the children n will never push them or scold them for not being able to do something

Ex. when Raon couldnt break thru the whirlwind, Cale didn't blame Raon even tho he was at a lost for what to do then proceeded to find another way

♡ But then IS pretty "hey ima do my own thing, be grateful im even Telling You" with some of the older folks/people he sees as his age (towards quite literally everyone i can think of actually- even sometimes towards the children - tho ig it could be "you don't need to know, you don't need to worry" mentality, perhaps a mix

Ex. Cale toward Alberu when he's like, "ill get u the Mage Tower, gimme money, trust" etc.

So im thinking

♡ Cale showing these subtle reactions to being pampered, but then he start basically Demanding It in an almost a "tell me to go away, I dare you" while still flinching, freezing, or stiffening up when ofc he receives/is let to do what he wants before quickly melting into it, perhaps almost tsundare/cat-like (ong I hate labeling it as such, but thats basically what I'm imagining orz)

[Tldr at the bottom of the break]

- I continue on w examples i half pull out my bum + rewrite my pt better

♤ And we do see this w Cale's brattiness towards Alberu in canon

We see him start w taking cookies for Raon or to eat it himself, but then he just starts- breaking into? Alberu's bedroom or office??

♤ Like sIR TToTT LMAOO. But I think he can "justify the rudeness" cause he's quite literally only bothering Alberu when it benefits him or the kingdom

-

♧. But then we see it also with the mindful disrespect Cale gives Ron, the guy he was lowkey terrified of even before knowing he was an assassin, and yet continued to treat with the same "you are legally working under me" curt manner of speech regardless

. Which is a bit insane of Cale tbh cause also Ron was older than him -- ik Korea emphasizes a base-line respect hierarchy via age, and Cale was conscious of that towards Choi Han, but tbh I cant remmeber any internal dialouge of Cale's take on Ron being older than him cause -- he's alw treated Ron with "do this cause my family pays you" speech mannerism

♧ So the "were giving you money to work in a position lower than mine" overrides:

- his Fear of Ron,

- the built in "treat elders w manners" most cultures have,

- but also most people's learned basic politeness filter, [cause others being in a position lower than yours doesnt mean you have to speak to them curtly]--- (and we know Cale does indeed know basic politeness cause he can easily bullsht his way into stardom (ex. Jungle arc/when he first meets Alberu/whevever he handles civilians))

::without the usual politeness you'd have asking someone else do something, even if it Was their job (ex. Most people still ask "do you know where the sauce is?" or "wheres this sauce?" to a grocery employee instead of straight up "take me to the sauce./get me this sauce." If that makes sense;

that instinctual polite unliteral manner of phrasing cause "do you know where the sauce is? Ofc they do, they work here >> oh but that demand of "take me to the sauce" is phrased as an almost hypothetical manner to save your own face. It changes the demand into a request, giving the worker still a way to refuse n not have the situation become akward**

** sorry I learned this in my linguistics class n I'm excited to info dump-

♧ Like- bro has more reasons to speak more politely to Ron than not-- and yet he never stops commanding Ron without sugarcoating/politeness-filtering anything

So if that ain't bratty--- hiding behind the employer contract frfr

-

Ok so Alberu he justifies is rudeness as "im helping the both of us, shut up and trust me"

Ron its "you're working under me so ima use you like I should"

◇ what of Eruhaben then? (Hopefully I'm spelling his name right, the golden dust dragon)

Eruhaben doesnt need to benefit from Cale (initially, when they first meet), nor is he ever hired, under contract, or even under oath to work with their crew. He's seen as someone immensely powerful and could absolutely clock them and their whole kingdom if aggro-ed, and yet Cale proceeds to interact with this ancient dragon older than everyone in this world except maybe the World Tree (often signifying the START of a world so Erubenny here's currently second oldest existance ever during Cale's time??) - interacting as if blud was just ur average joe----

Dawg TToTT. Cale. Your fearlessness is CRAZYY. Anyways Eldest Existance Goldie here is turned into a Gramps for the children and ong thats already a ton of audacity of Cale n his crew to do that to the guy

◇ But what does Cale do next--?? Cause at least he's decent enough to not ask Eruhaben to take care of every bit of their human problems (which is probably how Cale's able to justify treating Eruhaben as a Babysitter, L)

◇ what he does next is fcking sbdbsbvd [extends] this Eldest of the Elders* lifespan. Partly to benefit Eruhaben (but blud was alr accepting how it was his time so couldnt care less ab dying), and mostly to benefit the children, specifically Raon, the baby dragon under his care.

TTTTTOTTTTTT WHAT A REAL ONE AJDUUEGSHGSHSHHHSHHH

*I say eldest, but im aware there were dragons n other existances living before Eruhaben, but in the time of the story takes place, Goldie Gramps is one of the oldest existances in that world, yea

◇ does this count as Cale being a brat?? Tho it mutually benefits both parties, it does still impose Cale's agenda (having a mentor figure and babysitter for the Raon, n also a senior dragon in his crew) onto Eruhaben who - as I've said before - was Hella ready to cozy up 6 ft under. Brother probbaly already went thru his stages of grief before Cale was even born, thats how Not in his Plan Cale's push for a life extension was--

◇ and Cale continues to push when Eruhaben makes his stance clear he shouldn't extend his life, he's tired, use the artifact on someone else, etc. Etc. Cale knew to be pushy?? To continue bothering Gramps like that?? Cause it works out, Eruhaben does give in with seemingly no regrets after--

Cale. Who knows how to take a no (when it doesn't involve his own health anyway). How we see him not asking the OP cast in his crew [[literally most his main crew]] for an easy way out if he, himself, can't logic out any benefits for them directly >> even if those people are willingly like "take me off the bench, coach!!"

Ex. How he keeps Choi Han around to "make him the hero" only for the guy to refuse any title or land from being rewarded by the feds (Prince Alberu) and suddenly Cale doesnt know what to do w him, but like, let's him stay by his side anyway cause he said he wanted to (similar to Raon tbh, aww the trio frfr) -- but Cale rarely actually orders Choi Han to do anything (I might need to fact check this tbh) its a just a ton of Choi Han "I need to get stronger to be more helpful!" N acting sybiosisly w Cale's plans til Cale eventually expects Choi Han's involvement n just alw has a place for him in his plans (if it isn't solo altruistic time that is)

Tldr; Cale --- who takes care of the littles, and is a brat to the elders *with justification* --- would totally start demanding/doing these acts of warmth after some time

Perhaps first tsundere-like in the "i deserve this" manner like he does with his "act" of being a papered noble son

@penguin-stars talks ab this pt really well in this post [here]

only to still stiffen once the others allow it + even support it, and then eventually find a place for himself in all that warmth of his new family n friends <333

Do you think Cale would stand along the edges of the group when they're all happy and domestic sometimes...? Just feeling kind of disconnected and distant because this amount of happiness and this amount of closeness was just a distance dream when he was roksoo

Maybe he watches the children get praised and he's so proud of them, but can't help but feel the dull ache of jealousy. Of course, he would also add to the pile of praise and love, but deep inside his inner child just... Aches. Deep inside he just wishes he could've had this when he was younger. The praise, the love, the gentle touches full of warmth. Maybe he just can't help but feel so far away because it feels so.. unreal. He's never had the chance to properly grow up, so he definitely wishes for these kids to grow up happy, loved, cherished, and healthily. Hell, he will make sure they do.

Maybe he freezes when the kids first begin to hug him? The warmth is foreign, but not unwelcome... So he indulges them. Giving them the love and affection that he wishes he received as roksoo. Turns out he's also touch starved as well, so he grows to love these interactions with the children. Eventually he starts initiating them by himself, finding his hand gently carding through On or Hong's hair, or maybe his hand rubbing circles on the small of Rain's back? But only for the children. Children are honest, children are safe. He doesn't know how to tell his friends he wishes to be closer. So he keeps quiet, inner child longing and aching.

He watches the way Ron interacts with Beacrox. The way on the outside they're stoic and seemingly cold, almost like some sort of business exchange. He sees it though. The way Ron's eyes soften when he watches his son cook, the pride that swirls behind those eyes just for his son. He feels in an outsider. Sure, he has his family, but could he really be considered theirs? He feels like an imposter, coming into their home with their son's body and face, so he only watches as they bond. The warmth of just being within distance is both soothing and never enough. He distances himself in hopes of keeping these pesky feelings in check. He tells himself to be happy with what he has because it's already a blessing to have so many people who stay with him because they want to be with him.

Maybe he doesn't know how to interact with parental figures, feeling awkward when they welcome him. His mind convinces him that their welcome is just polite. When he agrees to act as Naru, he thinks of it as just a deal. Both parties benefit from it. As Fredo continues to shower him with gifts and love, he finds himself relaxing in the warmth. Just for a bit. Then he walls himself off again. He receives a toy as a gag gift one day. Some sort of play set that they (maybe Alberu and Rosalyn) think would make him give them a deadpan look in return. They're shocked as they silently watch Naru's eyes sparkle as he explores the set. His touch soft, so so soft, as if the toys were an illusion that would crumble away if he were to rough. They expect a sarcastic "thanks" with some sort of annoyed look paired with it. Instead they watch from behind their disguised friend, barely hearing the whispered "...thank you" because Naru's voice is just above a whisper. (His ears are red as he thanks them, he doesn't turn away from the set. Too happy to have received it because it resembles the one he had always longingly gazed at through the display windows. He couldn't ask for it, so he just looks on, smaller hands pressed against the cool glass in his memory).

He's on guard while he stays with Fredo, but his inner child can't help but cheer at the unlimited food and sweet. Happy to be able to just receive instead of all the give give give he's had to do growing up. He feels warm as he nibbles on a cookie, sitting on a plush couch.

Cale is too scared though. He doesn't reach out, bringing this love closer to him and claiming them as his. He just accepts the in the moment love that's directed towards him, grateful for what he can get.

And they slowly begin to notice the longing in his eyes. The way he attentively watches as the children are introduced to more games and experiences. (It hurts them more later on when they learn what kind of world he had grown up in as Roksoo).

Cale doesn't seem to notice the loving looks he receives from the people around him. He just assumes that it isn't for him. So when Eruhaben starts to press his cool hands against his forehead, gently grasping his face as the dragon checks him over for any more injuries... He finds himself overjoyed. Confused, but overjoyed.

Or when he finds himself noticing how Rosalyn and Choi han seem to sit ever so closer, with their legs pressed against his and their arms brushing against him. He finds himself relaxing, just appreciating the feeling of being close with them.

Cale treasures the people around him. They notice how Cale feeds the children before himself, watching them eat for a few minutes before he breaks out of some sort of train of thought. (He can't forget the days where food was limited. The cries of poor, innocent children when their stomachs felt like they would just collapse inwards and consume itself. He doesn't ever want to see the people he loves have to think before eating, rationing off some incase there isn't food next time). Alberu gifts him more snacks-- batches of cookies that are easily shared and plentiful enough that he doesn't hesitate before eating some himself. Beacrox cooking more and more, trying to show that if Cale asked, he will receive. How there's plenty of food to go around.

(he grew up in such an unstable environment that being this secure feels like a dream).

I wanna write a fic... But I'm not that confident in my writing sdjdjhff

[carbonfiction]

First bloom

Summary: Frank has a moment of vulnerability as he gifts you flowers for the first time.

Happy valentines Besties!! <33

Warnings?: whole lotta fluff really. nothing much to add other than Frank giving reader flowers for the first time and being a little bashful about it. (M' a sucker for a big, gruff, kinda angry man being a sweetheart to the person he loves alright?) possible horrible writing- a girl be struggling..

Pretty obvious buuut with this im adding frankie to my 'will write for' list bc i am, at my very core and before most fixations i ever had, a frank castle girlie.. With that said my normal Logan stuff will remain!! but i thought I'd get this lil thing out while it feels good in my mind and before i make a million changes- writers block has got my ass again but asks are still open!

Masterlist. Words: 1.1k

Franks feet feel heavy in his boots, each step thudding on the concrete. The streets are quiet, winter air crisp and cool as he digs a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he goes. Keep one hand warm and the other? Well.. That one feels pretty cold and yet, strangely, a little clammy at the same time.

In Franks grasp rests a bunch of colourful flowers; lillies, roses, some little delicate buds he doesnt recall the name of for decoration. 'Oh those? Those are called Babys breath frank!' He hopes you'll tell him with a beam later.

The rose thorns prod at his palm, his grip on the bundle of stems tense, but he finds it doesn't hurt the longer he walks. They just.. Ground him slightly as he treads closer to home. Closer to you.

Theres a peace that settles within him in your presence, he finds; one that seems to dim the darkness that swirls in his heart. You ease the ache that so often sits inside him, Never erasing it, no one ever could but.. You lessen it. Always willing to take the weight from his broad shoulders, if only for a little.

And for that? Frank is greatful.

He knows he can be alot; his grumpiness piled almost as high as his baggage. But you dont ever seem to mind.

You embrace him on the days he needs it but cant find it in himself to ask and keep him at arms length when you see in his eyes that being loved feels stifling; its just how life is with him. Yet you do it all with that soft smile and gentle hand, the polar opposite to his rough lines and jagged edges. Keeping him sane on the days when he believes himself to be anything but.

The hand he dug into his pocket seems clammier now as he pulls out his set of keys, the lock clicking open moments later. Its just flowers castle, pull it together he thinks, stepping back into the warm embrace of your apartment. Given girls flowers before for christ sake.

"sweetheart?" he calls out, gruff voice booming through the hall.

You jump slightly at the sound, placing down the wooden spoon that you had been stirring the fragrant pot on the stove with. Voice calling back "in the kitchen!" with a significantly softer tone.

You wait with your body leaning against the counter, observing how the bulk of him rounds the corner. A large arm behind his back; still in his coat. A suspicious rustle of cellophane filling the kitchen as he shifts on his feet, but still you grin at the sight.

"Got everything you needed" he says, hand digging through his coat pocket with various clinks and russles. In his large hand he pulls out a collection of little packets and jars, placing them on the counter. refills of various spices, salts and even a little box of yeast pouches for bread making sit in a heap; things you were running low on earlier.

you beam that perfect smile at him, murmering softly as you step forward, leaning up on your toes to kiss his stubled cheek. "Perfect, thank you frankie"

He accepts the kiss with a soft hum, dipping his head for you to reach.

But still that arm remains behind his back. He almost hopes you dont notice.. But you do, he can tell.

"Uh Frank?.." you start a little cautiously with that same grin, however this time theres a little glint of confusion added as you step back just slightly. "What are you hiding?"

You stew in his silence for a moment, a crease wedging its way back between his brows. Handsome face suddenly filled with... trepidation?

"Frank.." you start again, a little more seriously as you step closer. By now you're fully expecting something bad; that someones been gunning for him again and hes hurt. That there must be blood soaking through his coat and thats why hes hiding.

But as quick as he paused, he sighs, broad shoulders falling just slightly. that same arm once hidden, now outstretched infront of you. The colourful bouquet at eye level as you take it in, a tiny gasp slipping past your lips.

"Frank castle did.." you begin, hand coming to join his on the delicate stems. Your voice is hushed and a little shakey as your eyes scan up and across his face. "Did you buy me flowers?"

His head moves in a little nod, chest puffing out just slightly as he releases his grip; completly surrendering both the flowers and himself.

"Yeah i, uh.." he gruffs, thinking outloud before he stops; practically looking everywhere but at you. The pot on the stove, the cups on the sink, even his boots. Its then he realises that he's almost afraid to see some semblance of rejection in your gaze; that he's missteped or you dont like them. That this sense of peace you wash over him is about to be swept away; wide eyes and incredulous tone not helping his state.

Frank takes another breath, steeling himself; his walls building back up, before he simply settles on a shake of his head and a huff. "Doesn't matter, 's stupid alright"

"No, no its not stupid." you rush out, remaining close as you eye the flowers in your hand and then him again. "They're beautiful frank.."

"Saw em and they reminded me of you so..." he coughs, a large hand scratching at the back of his neck. "thought I'd get em.."

Frank shifts on his feet, stance widening as you suddenly throwing yourself into his arms and grip him tightly; the Boquet landing on the counter seconds before your impact to his chest. You hold him like that for a few quiet moments before you lean back, resting on your tip toes as you cup a rough cheek.

"Thank you.." you whisper softly, honesty pure in your words. A little bashful grin across your lips as you lean up a little higher. "I love them, really. They're perfect"

Frank gazes down at you gently, a finger of his own brushing over your skin as he leans in, kissing you with such unspoken emotion it could knock you off your feet- if he wasnt already keeping you up.

"Yeah sweetheart? Really think they are all that?" he murmers, forehead against yours, the air of unease beginning to slip from your reaction. Enjoying the endearing heat of your gaze.

Your lips meet his in another tender kiss as you press the words against him; though they hold a hidden, deeper meaning. "Yeah Frank.. I really do"

[aeragan]

ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

✭ pairing(s): boothil x reader x gallagher

✩ inspo: Disease by Lady Gaga

★ in which: you and boothill find quite the catch while on a 'vacation' in penacony.

✧ a/n: ive been cooking this up for a while but i FINALLY got the motivation to finish it. oh. boy. do i need these two in such a carnal way UGHHH. BIBLICAL EVEN! i admit... these two are the only reason ive been writing for hsr lately :,) happy valentines day i guess. nothing more romantic then cucking

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn reader, afab reader (no use of breasts), threesome, established relationship (boothill/reader), boothill doesnt have a cock, biting, fingering, p in v, creampie, cuck boothill, cum eating, porn no plot (sorta), not proofread

✎ wc: 4.3k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

You and Boothill had the same taste in people, and it was one of the things that had brought you together. Obviously, you loved the cowboy, all rough ‘n’ tough, yet still so soft for you and only you. And he loved you equally, if not more. That was uncontested. But you both could appreciate others, as well. Especially older men, (un)fortunately. You two can’t help it. A good silver fox can’t help getting a hold of your hearts. But even moreso, you two could appreciate a man who was just a little bit of a mess, a man who needed maybe just a little work.

Lucky for you two, you had been blessed. When Boothill announced he’d be going to Penacony (“Not for pleasure, ‘kay sugar? Only business.” Is what he said. What a lie.), you practically jumped at the idea. You wanted to get out of the house, personally, and also wanted a little taste of his life. Downtime with him was rare, so why not just… join him? And he obliged oh so easily to his darling lover. You didn’t even have to pull out the puppy eyes to get him to crack. So it was a win on your part, you got to enjoy a nice little expensive vacation with your boyfriend, and he got to have you along for the ride.

However, it was a blessing in disguise. One night you had finally convinced Boothill to get a drink with you, finding a nice little bar at the top floor of the Dreamscape Reverie. It felt classy enough, yet it wasn’t too expensive. A welcoming atmosphere, aside from the few oddities here and there. Not that you cared. You were getting a nice little date in one of the most sought after places with your partner. What more could you want?

That’s when God’s perfect man walks in. Or out. You don’t remember. Fluffy and messy brown hair, eyebags that put yours to shame, messy shirt and tie, body hair peeking out between the gap in his shirt, while the button holds on for dear life, and just enough chub to make you straighten up. Both you and Boothill’s jaws drop at the sight. A slew of naughty things invade your mind, and it's as if you and Boothill are suddenly telepathic. You can tell what he’s thinking by the gleam in his eye, and he can tell by the way you clear your throat and pretend like everything’s normal.

Now, you two don’t talk much about every handsome stranger you’d see. But something about the way the man carried himself, so nonchalant, yet so passionate when he was mixing drinks, it had both of you chatting about him for days. Seeing a man so fine has even stopped Boothill’s thought processes, throwing away whatever he was doing to chase down this handsome man. It leads to you two taking a seat at the Holstery every night, theorizing about him and every other aspect. If he was a whiskey or a bourbon man, if he was as skilled in other things other than mixology, and much more.

Boothill was bold enough to talk to him a couple of times, taking it in his hands to flirt juuust a little, to get the hint across. You, on the other hand, chose to stay quiet, afraid that the shamelessness of your thoughts would manifest in words. You weren’t about to pounce. While it was true you only had a couple more days, you were too scared to approach. Boothill was more than happy to shoot his shot for the both of you.

As of now, you had two days left in Penacony, before Boothill had to catch his bounty and turn them in. Obviously, he was putting it off. This old man has caught his eye and he’d be damned if he would give up. You two had taken a seat at a table, chatting away as you enjoyed the last couple of sips of your SoulGlad, before Boothill took the bottle from you.

“C’mon, ain’t no lover of mine gonna drink this weak kinda stuff,” He huffs, swatting your hand away as you reach for the bottle. “Gotta have more refined tastes. Like–”

“You know I don’t like that stuff. Now gimme my drink back!” You huff and reach for it again, only for your hand to be swatted away once more. He tuts and leans back, rolling his eyes dramatically. “What? You gonna drink it?”

“Heck no! Just don’t want you gettin’ too into this stuff before we leave. Cause then you’ll be beggin’ me to take you back and get you some…”

He continues to prattle on, pulling the bottle away everytime you reach for it. This back and forth continues on for a little bit, Boothill doing his best to get you to finally try Malt Juice, or to admit you at least liked it. Of course, you could get up and just buy yourself another bottle. But there was no guarantee that Boothill wouldn’t take that one. Still, if he was going to be so annoying about a drink, you wouldn’t mind wasting a few more credits until he gave up.

Just as you are about to stand up, an arm stretches past your peripheral. You are ashamed to admit you know who’s arm it is. 

“Hey now, if you’re not gonna give them their drink, figured they’d get one from me, on the house,” His rugged voice makes you squirm a little, something you aren’t exactly proud of. Or that you did well to hide. His eyes track your movement with a knowing grin. “Gotta treat your partner right.”

Boothill seems equally stunned (and possibly turned on?) as you are. As the man takes a seat, Boothill recovers quickly, clearing his throat. “Well, if I knew you’d be joinin’ us, I would��ve stolen their drink much sooner.”

“Heh. Coulda just asked, too,” The man shoots back, as you take a drink from your bottle. His eyes linger on you for a moment too long, only pulling away when you meet his gaze. “But I don’t think I’ve heard your names, yet. Gotta know my new favorite regulars.”

Boothill is quick to introduce the two of you, making conversation as the night continues. Somehow he’s able to hold onto your older bottle of SoulGlad throughout the entirety of it, while you sip on the one you got for free. It’s nice to finally have a name to the face; Gallagher. And goodness, he’s a lot more chatty than you thought. At some point, his lingering looks turn into hesitant touches. Tapping at Boothill’s hands, or nudging you to add your wisdom to the conversation. 

You lose track of time, the other patrons slowly leaving until it was just you three. In that time, casual conversation turned into not-so-subtle innuendos, and eventually, Boothill is comfortable enough to shoot his shot.

“Well, Gallagher, me and my partner don’t have much time left here,” Boothill looks over at the man with hooded eyes and a smirk, “And we’d like… we’re lookin’ for some fun before we leave. If you catch my drift.”

Gallagher looks over at you, at Boothill’s words, and all you do is shoot him a wink and a smile, and he straightens at this, adjusting his tie.

“Alright, just let me help my friend close up the bar, and I guess we’ll be on our way,” He says with a smile, before pushing himself up and out of his seat and walking back off to the bar where a Halovian girl was cleaning glasses.

Boothill looks back at you with that same smirk, leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. “Well now, that was easy enough. Got a plan for tonight, sweetheart?”

“Hm, not really. Didn’t expect us to get this far, to be honest,” You shrug, watching Gallagher for a moment before turning your attention to Boothill. “Guess we’ll just see where it goes.”

“It’s all up to you. And him, I suppose. I’m happy doin’ whatever,” He shrugs, eyes lingering on your form. “But if you don’t want to do anythin’– I shoulda asked beforehand–”

“– I do want this, I mean–” You gesture towards Gallagher, who, even if he was doing the most banal closing tasks, was still hot. “– Look at him. I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that.”

“Alright, alright. But if you get uncomfortable at any point, you tell me, and we’ll stop it. My fault for askin’ him first before askin’ you,”

“Boots, you can practically read my mind. If you didn’t do it, I would’ve,”

Boothill chuckles, turning his head back to the bar. Now, Gallagher was chatting away with the other bartender, putting away cups and cleaning down the counters. After a moment, he catches both of you staring, and shoots the two of you a sly grin, before going back to his work. You cross your legs for no reason in particular, turning your gaze towards Boothill once more, blushing. He stared for a while longer, a cocky grin plastered to his face as he watched Gallagher move around the bar, before sighing and pushing himself up from his chair.

“C’mon, let’s wait for him by the doors,” He gestures towards the entrance as you hesitantly get up, “Don’t know if I can wait much longer…”

All you feel you can do is nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze. You felt the need to ground yourself, considering the heat that rose in your core. Boothill could easily rile you up, but having a man that was practically a stranger had the same effect on you, even if he was quite handsome, made you feel uneasy. In a horribly good way. It made your stomach flip-flop with anticipation.

“Awh, you that excited, darlin’?” He coos, his other hand reaching up and cupping your face. His thumb runs over your bottom lip, as he bites his own. “Bet we’ll make you feel real good– I know we will.”

A sinful shiver runs down your spine, before you’re able to retort and allow yourself some leeway before you inevitably melt, Gallagher joins you two at the door. Any hopes of being somewhat coherent and not seeming like a nymphomaniac were dashed the minute he looked down at you with a sleazy smile.

“We ready?” Gallagher hums, scratching the stubble underneath his chin and acting so goddamn nonchalant.

“Yes sir,” Boothill says, almost too excited. He seemed mighty proud of himself, hands falling from your face, placing one on the small of your back. Even the cold of his steel hand seeping through your clothes does little to dampen the burning arousal beneath your stomach. Ugh, you want to punch him for starting this fire too early.

Gallagher looks down at you and raises a brow, and you nod enthusiastically. “Alright,” He mutters, gesturing to the hallway down to the elevator. “Let’s get going, then.” He places his hand on your shoulder for a moment, warm and… welcoming, in a way, before he realizes that he may be overstepping, falling from your shoulder.

Walking in between these two men is practically suffocating. The heat between your legs refuses to die, making walking feel like a chore. When you look at Boothill, he walks with a pep in his step, some unnecessary confidence that you can’t figure out if it’s because he got you all hot and flustered, or if he was proud to have gotten Gallagher in bed with you two. Or both. It was probably both.

Gallagher, on the other hand, was walking like he just won the lottery. Sort of. He also had a smile on his face, but his steps were even and measured. It was difficult for you to keep your eyes on his face, wanting so badly to stare at his chest. Not that you wouldn’t see it when you got to your room, but it was just so damn tempting.

You’re able to reign yourself in for a moment, shifting anxiously between the two men as you wait for the elevator to go down. Both of them are having a conversation, or at least something like that. Unfortunately for you, you’re already so wound up that if you look up or try to tune into their words, you fear you’d only be digging your grave. Lucky for you, your room happens to be quite close to the elevators.

The minute the elevator dings, you are two steps ahead of the men, unable to keep up the facade that everything is totally normal and you totally aren’t turned on by the two men who were by your side. It felt like you’d die if you took another second outside of your room. Hastily, you pull out the keycard pressing it against the reader. Behind you, Boothill chuckles, shaking his head as you open the door.

“C’mon sugar, don’t be shy,” Boothill croons, waving you over. Your body moves on its own, or at least, that’s what you want to think. Eagerly walking over and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Mh, that’s more like it.”

Boothill sits himself up, shuffling behind you. He wastes no time, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. His hands wrap around your waist, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it slowly. He bites down gently, eyes flitting up and meeting Gallagher’s gaze. Your eyes also fall on the man, dropping lower and lower until you’re met with the bulge in his pants. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, watching both you and Boothill’s movements. Some kissing and a little midriff and he’s already hard…? Shit, there could not have been a finer man for this night. You feel your nerves dissipate at man’s own weakness, and Boothill himself picks up on this.

“Fudge, look at you,” He utters, pulling away from your neck. “We invited you here for a reason, yeah? Don’t be afraid to get a piece.”

Once again, you find yourself trapped between the two men. Boothill has his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your pants all too quickly, while Gallagher sits on his heels and watches, palming his cock through his boxers. He lets out a satisfied groan as he does so, simply watching you through hooded eyes. You lift your hips a little, allowing Boothill to pull your pants down all the way. Once off, he chucks them somewhere in the room, hands sliding past the waistband of your underwear. While his fingers drift closer to your pussy, he keeps eye contact with Gallagher, gaze sly and lascivious. Gallagher himself leans in as Boothill leans past your shoulder, and the two share a lewd kiss. Before you can ogle, Boothill’s fingers find your clit, rubbing slow half-circles around it. You jolt a little, before resting your head against Gallagher’s shoulder, letting out a soft ‘mmh..’ in response.

 A rumble vibrates through Gallagher’s chest at this, pulling away from Boothill. A line of spittle keeps them connected for only a moment, before breaking. He looks down at you with yet another sleazy grin, hand coming up and cupping the back of your head as Boothill’s fingers dared to dip lower, pressing against your entrance but not quite entering.

Gallagher’s fingers thread through your hair, oddly soothing as Boothill teases you. Gallagher’s other hand came down to his boxers, sliding them down. You can’t help but stare, watching as his cock springs free, a pearly white bead of precum glistening at the tip, which was flushed. You reach for it, but he catches you, shaking his head.

“Feeling like something else,” He purrs, eyes watching the way Boothill’s fingers worked in your underwear. Gallagher pulls his boxers all the way down, leaning back and propping himself up by the pillows.

You are more than happy to oblige, looking back at Boothill, to make sure he was still onboard. He nods and moves back, pulling his hand away from you, allowing you to position yourself. Replacing his hands, you take off your underwear, throwing them somewhere else within the room. Without hesitation, you push yourself further up, caging in Gallagher’s legs with your own. Readjusting yourself, you hover just above his cock.

Now, you can’t remember a time you took someone’s cock, seeing as Boothill didn’t have one. You didn’t mind, if you were missing the appendage, you could always work with a dildo. And regardless, you quite enjoyed how skilled Boothill was with his fingers and his mouth. But damn, looking down at Gallagher’s dick, hard and twitching, with the borderline sinful way he was looking up at you, waiting, perhaps there was a moment where you missed something like this… perhaps you’d have to have a nice little conversation with Boothill eventually.

Speaking of, his hands find their way back on your hips, as if to help position you. He doesn’t wanna miss a moment of this, not one second. “Go on darlin’,” He mutters, resting his head on your shoulder.

With that, you lower yourself, slowly. Taking in the tip, you can’t help but roll your head back. It’s thick, not too thick, but it’s something you can’t say you’ve felt in quite a bit. Gallagher himself groans, one large calloused hand finding home on your thigh, squeezing. With your neck bared, Boothill can’t help but pepper it with fleeting, ticklish kisses, satisfied hums following shortly after. He coaxes you to push down further, and you do. The stretch is delicious, causing your thighs to twitch a little.

“Fuuck…” You groan, placing your hand on Gallagher’s chest. You clench around him, biting your lip. You rock your hips forward just a little, to allow yourself to take in a little more of him, feeling insatiable.

“Just like that,” The man beneath you groans, taking in a sharp breath. He can’t help but buck his hips up, all too eager to get all of you.

Your nails dig into his chest as he does so, mewling softly. A couple more seconds and you're fully seated on his cock, already a sweaty, weak, pathetic mess above him. He places his other hand on your other thigh, before sliding both up to your waist, where Boothill’s hands were suddenly absent – a detail you didn’t notice. Gallagher allows you a moment to adjust, before guiding you up just barely a centimeter, finding it hard not to follow. You comply, weakly pulling yourself up just a bit, only for him to pull you back down. Sparks shoot up your body, causing you to arch further.

It’s a sinful synergy, using the strength in your knees to push yourself up while Gallagher helped you back down. He does it partially because he feels as if he can’t bear for you to leave him an inch untouched. He himself can’t remember the last time he had sex, and he’ll be damned if he lets go that easily.

Behind you, Boothill sits back on his heels. He stares, completely dazed. He isn’t jealous, far from it. The way you fit so well with Gallagher, the way you arch your back, the way you moan so sweetly everytime he pulls you back down– no, with every movement, fuck. It’s killing him. Not to mention the praises slipping past Gallagher’s lips, voice low and rough and just so damn hypnotizing. The way his smile faltered ever so slightly with just how good you were making him feel… he could almost get used to this.

For once, Boothill wished he had a dick. He wished the minute he walked out of the Doctor’s shop that he found someone to hook him up. He was so goddamn horny, it hurt. He didn’t want to be in Gallagher’s position, or yours, he simply wished he could jack off while watching this. The fact that he had absolutely no outlet to expend his desire was suffocating. Still, all he does is watch, mouth dry as your moans increase in pitch, as you trip and stumble over the man’s name.

A fire burns throughout your body now, pressure tightening with each stroke beneath your stomach. You found yourself clenching around Gallagher almost rhythmically, your moans turning into pants. Beneath you he grunts, eyes hazy and half-lidded with desire. He gave up on pulling you back down, choosing to simply thrust his hips up while you stayed in place and took it.

The sound of skin meeting skin, a hollow yet wet sound, echoed throughout the room. It was music to Boothill’s ears, causing him to whine softly and lean his head back. He was light-headed, mind hazy and fuzzy as he tried to not think of just how badly he wanted to cum right now. Fuck, he wanted to cum, he wanted to cum so bad, so fucking bad–

Just as he thinks that, a guttural groan tears from Gallagher’s throat, as he throws his head back and his hips stutter up. His fingers dig into your waist, his grip tightening to the point where it starts to hurt. His chest rises and falls rapidly, heaving heavily as he spills his load inside you. His thighs tense as he can’t help but push further up, like he needed more. His half-thrusts turn into semi-half-thrusts, short-lived and reckless. After another moment, you follow suit, that tight coil snapping, warmth blooming from your stomach and spreading through your veins. Your hips jerk backwards just once as you feel as if you can’t get enough air in, returning Gallagher’s grip on your hips in kind, raking your fingers down the fabric of his shirt.

After the initial buzz dies from your minds, you look down at Gallagher, who has propped his upper body up by his elbows. Rather than looking at you however, he’s looking behind you, at Boothill. Fuck, when did he pull away? When you turn to look at the man, he looks absolutely… astounded. His face is bright red, and he’s almost drooling. You swear you can see stars in his eyes.

“Ah, Boots…?” You call out cautiously, unsure if you want a reaction. Last thing you want is him short circuiting, but at the same time, you just let a stranger cum in you. At your words, however, he perks up.

“Y-Yeah, sugar? Doll? I– Yeah?” He speaks as if he was the one who just came.

“Here–” Gallagher grunts, lifting you up a little. You get the hint, pulling yourself off. You can’t help but shudder at the last tastes of friction, before sitting back with your legs spread.

Boothill’s eyes immediately zone in on your pussy, drooling with a mixture of yours and Gallagher’s cum. “Was it– did you– I mean, oh, fudge, darlin’ –”

Despite the fact that it is a rather lewd display, and the fact that it felt as if you were still coming down from your high, you couldn’t help but lean back a little, your confused expression morphing into one much more scandalous.

“Wanna clean me up?” You croon, tilting your head just the right amount to let your hair fall in front of your face.

Boothill nods eagerly, completely ignoring Gallagher for now; who was sliding off the bed and reaching for his pants and belt. Boothill practically scrambles into position, grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer towards him, causing you to yelp and fall onto your back. He hoists your thighs up over his shoulders, quickly licking a fat stripe up your slit. Your hands fly to his hair, petting through it for a moment. He groans softly, eyes fluttering shut as he laps at the liquid between your legs. He’s all but devoured what was left of your spend, so quickly that it felt too quick. Not that you were disappointed, he made sure there was nothing left. A few more licks, followed by a gentle, almost reverent kiss to your clit, and he was done. He pulled back with a satisfied shine in his eyes, yet refused to sit up.

For a second, you look back up at Gallagher, who was standing by the doorway, sliding his belt into place. He himself seemed satisfied, but clearly had no desire to stay for long. Boothill, too stubborn to move from his favorite pillows, practically cuddled up to them, one hand reaching around to trace all the stretchmarks there. Gallagher afforded you two the decency of slipping out of the room through barely wide enough crack in the door, leaving you with a small wave of his hand as a ‘goodbye’.

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[richardsphere]

i mean... Ideals contrasting powers are just inherently cool, create inherent drama and a clear-cut struggle where the character's power is as far away form an "I win"-button as it can feasably be. Like, A Seeker of Truth with the power of lies? Awesome way to build an inherent conflict. Freedom Fighter with Mind Controll? Code Geass has a fanbase that will never die. It came out literal decades ago and is still held as one of the Best Anime of all Time. Firefighters with Pyrokinesis? Like im never gonna watch or read Fireforce, but the concept is just fantastic. A character with the powers of darkness and destruction, but who wants nothing more then to help? Classic. The issue with Renalya (and Felix/Argos) is that doing this requires: 1-a willingness to explore said nuance, rather then a binary black/white morality governing your show. 2-A willingness to focus on the character whose powers contradict their goals. Rather then reducing them to a side-character who gets to matter in.... 3 episodes a season? 3-A willingness to be consistent in the characters reluctance with their powers (this affects Argos more then it affects Alya) And given that Miraculous will not under any circumstance let its marketable childrens-toys be considered anything but "pure", even Alya's promotion into Confidant and Future Guardian will not fix the inherent misalignment between "journalist" and "liar" as an issue. ---- But personally, and this might just be me... I never saw her as a journalist. it just doesnt seem to be a foundational part of her character the way the fanbase makes it out to be. You know how in mythology, most gods have a single "core" domain and a bunch of tiny odd side-jobs that spring off. Like how Hermes was the god of boundary markers. But because anyone who travels must cross borders, became the god of travelers, and then became the god of postmen, because postmen are travelers by trade and therefore interact with borders? But then down the line everyone just thinks of him as "oh right, the god of the mail" and includes him in greek-mythology stories almost solely as a messenger without referencing his broader portfolio... Well... Much like how portraying Hermes as a messenger isnt inacurate, but merely reductive. I feel that refering to Alya as a journalist is similarly so. I personally never saw Alya as, foundationally a Journalist. I saw her as a Storyteller first (such as her babysitting Manon in Stormy Weather). With heroics and heroics-related news merely being one of many stories there are for her to tell. An expression of her "core" that is extremely prominent within the story, and as such gets over-emphasised to a point it risks blocking our sight of the tree from which it branches. and the power to create illusions fits into the storyteller persona a lot more easily. That's probably also why in both in the original series and in the S6 soft-reboot. her first use of Mirage is on akumatised children.

I do feel Alya makes more sense to have the turtle with her being an inspiring journalist than Nino who would probably have fun with the fox since he's supposed to be a creative.

The fox is the last miraculous I would’ve given Alya 😭

How does giving her, a journalist who allegedly values the truth, the power of deceit make sense thematically??? Seriously please explain

And Nino -oh god Nino- I remember during the S1 days people theorizing he would eventually have the peacock bc his shirt has the same color and a vaguely similar pattern and anyway it’s not that they had to give him the peacock but at least give him something that makes sense for his character

Comparing them to Chloé who’s had bee visuals since S1, the besties becoming heroes really feel like an afterthought

[kishiar-la-orr]

not incredibly well-thought because i'm just typing down thoughts briefly but

to me, the first timeline is the slightly less fairy tale-like version. the second timeline can be called a fix-it, an everything-goes-right, a best case scenario, which needed a grand plot device in the form of yuder regressing in order to happen at all. there must be tons and tons of different versions of first timeline where some things go right, some things also go wrong, in different ways whether miniscule or catastrophic. its not the worst though. things could go even worse, im sure.

there's a lot of takes surrounding first timeline kishiar with differing points. (also, as you know, im a glazer). and after running through a lot of them, it just makes me think that personally, a novel so nuanced and with a lot of complex interpersonal and intrapersonal happenings like turning needs to be approached with good faith and compassion. in my experience, doing that helps maximize my enjoyment of it.

second timeline kishiar is a 'green flag ML', yes, but he can only run because first timeline kishiar walked. what is turning if not about love and humanity? and the thing about loving while being human is, love doesnt stay pure all the time. sometimes its twisted, sometimes its murky. sometimes even when the love is pure, the communication gets lost in the middle. love happens even when people have a lot of difficult situations in their lives or even when they think they're not in a good place to be loving other people. first timeline yuder was also still green and less mature than second timeline yuder, a lot less equipped in many ways. second timeline yuder himself also needed to mature a lot before he could properly begin a relationship with second timeline kishiar that's grounded in trust and the expression of genuine care.

so many factors are being taken into consideration when writing turning, i think. thats why it becomes such a beautiful piece of work that can touch the hearts of many people, with characters and storylines that resonate with a lot of the fans. i find that it's turning's biggest charm. first timeline kishiar isn't a perfect victim nor a perfect 'toxic ex-boyfriend'. he tried his best and his best still had repercussions that are less than ideal for the people he loved whom he left behind. of course, there's also the fact that the story is mostly written through the main character yuder's perspective. i think i enjoy turning the most when i can see it through this type of lens, trying to keep in mind where the characters are coming from and empathize with them and taking the novel (as all fictions are) as a lesson in humanity.

[self-indulgentmanic]

Yashita married life, what could go wrong?

Bonus:

sketch that I didnt use cuz i made a funnier one (Rip to the 15 min I spent sketching this)

[leonardalphachurch]

hey ppl who write "tucker time travels back to pfl" aus. do you have tucker and the director have a relationship. bc like. thats church. like hes not church but hes. hes church. does the director find him annoyingly charming. does tucker recognize parts of his best friend in this awful man and find himself drawn to him despite himself. does he see what church could have been. does he see who church was. does he see who church is

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[luckycloverforducks]

A forced on identity

[xxplastic-cubexx]

WAIT WAIT WAIT CHERIK MPREG IS CANON

i cannot stress enough how canon cherik mpreg is, yes my friend

[firefly--bright]

yk what??? jean would NOT be one of those smooth guys that has a lot of pickup lines memorized. he would, however, stutter through a compliment and end up with a lame, "your face is shiny" when what he really meant to say is that your smile makes him want to smile too. like hes such a LOSER but it's ok because u love him

[sparklecarehospital]

Sometimes I wonder how I'm ever gonna be able to work on the other Spinch stories I have, I have so many ideas for things but only so much fixation power

[im-smart-i-swear]

can you remember being born? were you born at all

[caterpillarinacave]

actually one of my favorite parts of NATM3 is when ahkmenrah looks at this 4000 year old magical 24k gold tablet that's keeping him alive and is like "nah I don't wanna carry this" and just sticks it in a teenagers backpack

[aalghul]

in the top 10 worst things about being a jason fan has to be that 99% of his fanon and canon content with friends is some variation of a rhato lineup

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done