#aside from the perfectness that was smartass in this-

[slashingdisneypasta]

Ok I'm supposed to be sleeping... But I had to write what I'm certain is going to be my favorite of all the 'what now' scenarios with the ships. Smarty-Pop.

~

This was (is?) a rather... Strange hostage situation. For everyone involved.

Poppy had always managed to bring out Smartass' softer side. Sure, he may yell at times, though it was because his buttons got pushed too many times that day, not because he was angry at her. And Poppy was the one who could calm him down while everything was going insane. So seeing him grab her so roughly and sneer in her face that night had been a shock and a half for everyone. And it was even more jarring when he announced that she wasn't allowed to leave the house anymore.

It wasn't like he had her tied up though. He had threatened to do it, but he hadn't. She wasn't even locked up in the basement or anything; Poppy still had free reign around the house, and Smartass made it clear that she was still to be respected as his girl- though nobody was to to follow any orders she tried to give, not that Poppy used that power anyways did she even realize she was given that authority? And aside from the first few days he had been gruff with her, still feeling hurt and angry that she threatened to leave, she wasn't in any real danger... Honestly, if it weren't for reason behind her house arrest, and the fact that she wasn't allowed to be alone anymore, things would have seemed normal.

But it wasn't. Everyone knew that their relationship was never going to be the same again. It was especially obvious whenever Poppy's begging could be heard behind their closed door; pleading her questionable lover to stop this horrible plan of the judge's. Begging him to see that all this was insane... Just wanting him to not be the evil weasel that he was drawn to be.

It wasn't just her that was affected by her imprisonment, too. Stupid had no idea who to listen to now; his boss and brother, or his sad little friend. Psycho, Poppy's best friend, thought it was nice that they didn't have to worry about how they'd get her out of town now. But he didn't like the way Smartass had been making her cry lately. Wheezy knew that this was wrong, but he also knew when the boss' mind was made up, so all he could do at this point was try to offer a comforting ear to Poppy. And Greasy... She wasn't sure how he felt about this, but he and Smartass' had been having a lot more conversations in Spanish lately, and they seem to be talking about her.

As the week went by, it was also clear how much of a toll this was taking on the rabbit. She just looked so war torn, like she was in a terrible battle- which she technically was. But she didn't stop trying to reach through to Smartass. Even on the day they were all packing everything up to move into their new home, Poppy still tried to stop it, claiming that, "Toontown is our home. Everything we love is here. "

Of course, it didn't work. It only made the boss more frustrated that they were, "Fallin' behind schedule. Now get in the car, 'Pops."

There wasn't a big celebration the night they came home. Everything had gone according to plan, and there was nothing but opportunity left for the weasels now... But there was still one problem that Smartass had been dreading preparing to face while the others were distracted with their own activities.

For the first time in what was far too long, Smartass was actually careful with Poppy. Quietly opening the door to the room she had been kept in and sitting down beside her before untying her- the only time he had actually used the rope against her, and it was only to make sure she didn't run while they were all gone. Brushing the stray curls away from her face, trying so hard to be gentle again just like how they were before, "It's done. It's just us now, sweetheart..."

For a few seconds, she doesn't respond. Those few seconds grated on his already uneased nerves, but when she tilted her head to look up towards him, it felt like a punch to the gut. No warmth in her eyes, yet no denial either. She was frowning at him, but not glaring either. There was no anger or disgust for what he had done... Just miserable defeat.

The sight twisted the hardened criminals heart. He didn't delude himself into thinking she'd be happy, but this? Shaking his head, Smartass decided to try to pull her in for a hug. It had been a while since he could hold her like this, and he... They needed it, "Things are gonna be different now, but it'll be good out here. I promise."

She didn't wrap her arms around him, but she didn't try to pull away. She almost felt like a limp doll in all honesty. They were so close now, he could hear her loud and clear despite her whispering voice, "It's heartbreaking, that you thought I was the only thing in town worth saving."

...

He didn't say anything, but not because he was ignoring her. The way his arms pulled her closer to him, holding her in a way that almost would have been protective, was proof that he was listening. She was still here with him. She was still within his reach, and yet she wasn't.

Things were never going to be the same.

... okay.

... Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

I am not alright.

I am so very much not all right!! 😰😱😭😰😱😭😰 SO AT FIRST, I was obsessing over the whole Dragon!Smartass/HostagePrincess!Poppy (Or Erik!Smartass x Christine!Poppy- I'm not sure which comparison I like more) thing at the start and how the other weasels were dealing with this, because all of that was delicious-

BUT THEN THAT LINE.

YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHICH LINE PAL. THE ONE YOU WROTE TO BREAK EVERYONES FRAGILE HEARTS. THIS ONE-

"It's heartbreaking, that you thought I was the only thing in town worth saving."

Oh god I remember reading this one for the first time, months ago, vividly XD How I clutched my chest Oh my goodness.

NO WONDER THIS ONE WAS YOUR FAVOURITE!! AHH! ITS AMAZING!

(i also love how g e n t l e he got with her in the second half)

[synqiri]

YOUR SHITTY TASTE IN MEN.

or, how he weasels you into admitting (and realising) your crush on him.

PAIRING: wanderer x gn!reader

WARNINGS: none.

WORDCOUNT: 1.1K || CONTENT: mild academic rivals, (one sided) enemies to lovers, he lowkey finds you amusing af

NOTES: ngl i picture yn here as an angry little cat

“professor, please. anyone but him.”

you’d do anything not to be paired with wanderer. especially not on a project that would affect your final grade. you’d be doomed with him for a partner, and that is what leads you to this situation — begging your professor to assign you to someone else.

she only sighs, sympathetic, yet unrelenting all the same. “[name], this is exactly why i paired the both of you together. you should learn to sort out your differences with him. besides, no one else would be able to keep up with either of you.”

gods, it is as flattering as it is unhelpful. you know that you are at the top in her class, rivalled by none other than him alone, but he might just hate you enough to fail the project out of sheer spite. maybe you’d throttle him to death before that happened.

“but —”

“my apologies, [name]. the decision is final.”

your expression sours further the moment you step out of the lecture theatre. why did he have to be the first thing you see, of all people?

“all that grovelling, just to get rid of me?” wanderer asks loftily, sauntering up to you. his eyes glitter, smug and amused and utterly infuriating. “and how did that work out for you?”

you roll your eyes. “she said i’m the only one who can stand you, so i’m afraid you’re saddled with me.”

turning on your heel before he can retort, you stride in the direction of the library. might as well get started on the assignment before he begins sending you to an early grave. though he keeps pace with you easily, and you can’t help but notice how he moves as if he is gliding on nothing but air. 

you bicker all the way there, only stopping as you set your things down at the desk you always use — at the far back of the library, a more secluded spot compared to the tables near the entrance. within minutes and a quick round around the place, you have a thick stack of books related to the topic of your project. 

wanderer is already seated, lounging on the cushioned seat lazily. he eyes the books, smirking. “to think you still can’t beat me, even after all that effort.”

will he ever shut up about that? 98% was hardly any different from 97% — and it wasn't as if he had a perfect score either.

“some of us have social lives to maintain — something you obviously don't.” you say this in a sing-song tone, deliberately taking the seat next to his. personal space be damned, you want a cushion seat too.

you take pride in the way he clicks his tongue and shuffles aside to make way. he scoffs. “what would somebody like you know about that? dinners and parties are hardly worth my time.”

you can't help but burst into laughter. his arrogance is stupidly ridiculous.

“just admit you have no friends.”

he sniffs imperiously, and for all the smartass comments he usually has, he doesn't deign to reply. cracking open the first book within reach, he begins to flip through its contents. you’re thankful that at least, he is taking the assignment seriously. 

you cannot deny that as irritating as he is, he is incredibly good looking. you watch the indigo of his hair as it falls in front of his eyes, the flutter in his lashes and the dainty bridge of his nose. his lips are parted slightly, his brows relaxed as he reads — and you find you cannot bring yourself to hate him, not in that very moment.

“are you done staring yet, or will i have to finish your work for you?”

scowling, you flick open a book of your own. now you remember why you hate his guts. “as if i even want you in my line of sight.”

“it’s amusing how much you despise me,” he says casually, flashing you a crooked smile. he chuckles, and gods, just the sound of it makes your blood boil. “of all i have done, i don’t recall ever doing anything to slight you.”

you stop short at that. why do you hate him? now that you were forced to really think about it — you have absolutely zero idea. but that couldn’t be right. how could you simply wake up one day and decide to hate someone?

well, whatever the case, you’re far too stubborn and you’re in way too deep to quit now.

“first of all, i hate your stupid smirk and the dumb drawl you talk with — do you even hear yourself? not to mention, the swagger in your walk and your smug gloating every single time you score better than i do. you walk like you’re floating. you sit in trees. you’re completely insufferable. just the mere thought of you makes me want to —”

hastily, you pull out your notebook and tear off a blank page. 

you crush it.

“this is your skull, by the way,” you say, a sickly sweet grin on your face. you chuck the paper ball into his lap. “is that explanation detailed enough or do you need more?”

and of everything that could’ve possibly happened, you’d never expect that he’d laugh. it’s sharp and disbelieving and he sounds as if he hasn’t laughed in years. he raises an eyebrow, smirking.

“how ridiculous. you claim to hate me so desperately and yet all i see is a fool with a childish crush.”

“have you gone senile? why would i —” you stare at him, flabbergasted. the notion of having a crush on someone like him is so utterly ridiculous you’re struck speechless. you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, and feel the twist of disgust in your gut.

a crush was something good. someone you couldn’t keep your eyes off, someone you couldn’t stop thinking about. a crush is someone who caused ‘butterflies’ in your stomach and a racing heart and he certainly did not. wanderer is simply someone so flamboyant and dramatic and attention-grabbing he made your blood boil, someone so infuriating just the thought of him during late night study sessions motivated you to do better and beat him, just to wipe the smirk off his face, someone —

all the fight you have goes out of you, as quickly as extinguishing a candle flame.

“oh.”

then, you blink rapidly, clearing away the fog of dizzying clarity that realisation had made. you cringe, bringing up a hand to your mouth. 

“oh gods,” you murmur. your entire body burns.

he scoffs, head cocked to the side, a self satisfied grin on his face. he knows. “what? don’t tell me you’ve got some other grand confession to make?”

well, you’ve definitely got one now. letting your hand fall back to your sides, you look him dead in the eye.

“i have a shitty taste in men.”

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Apple Seed 7: Demons

Charlie: (nestled into bed and surrounded by a maternity pillow to help prop up her heavy set baby belly) Are you sure you're alright with me going to bed early? I can stay up a little longer and help with the new residents' paperwork.

Vaggie: (cups Charlie's cheek and brushes her thumb over the bright red circle, slipping her finger into the well hidden dimple camouflaged underneath) I'm sure, hun. I can handle it just fine. I'll be in bed in about two- (checks the bedside clock) -two and a half hours.

Charlie: (pouts) But-

Vaggie: (presses a finger to Charlie's lips) No, no hables más, mi amor. You've been sleeping horribly for weeks. If you're tired, you should sleep. I can take over so you can rest. ¿Comprende?

Charlie: (huffs childishly but eyes slowly soften as she kisses Vaggie's finger) Yes, Ma'am. I understand. (snuggles under the covers and strokes her belly) I love you, Vaggie.

Vaggie: I love you too, querida. (kisses Charlie's forehead) Good night. (slowly exits the room and shuts the door with a soft click)

Vaggie: (sighs heavily and shuffles down the hall with an uneasy stride and hunch in her shoulders) Mierda... What am I going to do?

Vaggie: (enters the office and sits behind the desk, slowly opening a side drawer to reveal a hidden flask and pulling it out to take a pull of the liquor inside) Fuck.... Now, I'm drinking by myself because of this... Shit....

-Silence-

Vaggie: (bites her lip and pulls out her phone) I cannot believe I'm doing this. (dials the number and sets the phone to speaker)

-Brrrrrrrrd! ....Brrrrrrrd! ....Brrrrrrrrd!-

Carmilla: Carmine Industries. State your business.

Vaggie: (nervous) Uh, hello, Ms. Carmine. This is Vaggie Morningstar.

Carmilla: I'm well aware who you are, Vaggie. That's the point of caller ID. What do you want?

Vaggie: (under her breath) Gee, aren't you just as perky as ever. (clears her throat) I'm... in need of some... ugh...shit.... advice.

Carmilla: .............I'm listening.

Vaggie: You have two daughters.

Carmilla: How astute of you.

Vaggie: Smartass comments aside! (gets quiet and nervous) How... do you do it?

Carmilla: ..........I must say. Normally, I'd pride myself on being able to understand most nonsensical babbling, but I'm not quite following yours. Elaborate.

Vaggie: (sighs and sinks into the chair) How do you do it? Hold your kids when you have blood on your hands? (stares at her palms and flinches as flashes of deep crimson blood stain her fingers before returning to normal)

Carmilla: I see. This is about your prior Exorcist work and the baby on the way, isn't it?

Vaggie: (nods sullenly before remembering that she's on a voice call) Fuck! Yes! This is about that! How can I hold a perfect little being after everything I've done?! After all the people I've killed here in Hell? (flood gates open as her emotions run wild and tears sting her eyes) I know Charlie has forgiven me, but what if I hurt them? What if... I'm not good enough?

Carmilla: .............

Vaggie: (slowly calms down and wipes the tears from her eyes)

Carmilla: (softly) Because when that child is born, the hands that you once used to kill will be used to protect something even more precious than you could ever imagine.

Vaggie: (blinks) Carmine?

Carmilla: That innocent, perfect little baby will rely on you for everything the moment they're born. Your wife will rely on you to help her shoulder the burden. Do you honestly think that child will care about the people you killed when they only know the love you've given it? The care you've provided to it and it's mother?

Vaggie: But.... what if I-

Carmilla: Taint it? (huffs a laugh) With what? Slightly sullied hands that may or may not be covered in spit up? A child isn't tainted by the past sins of a parent, stupid girl.

Vaggie: (glances at her hands and watches as the blood washes away to a gross, white milky substance and cringes at the thought of spit up) Not sure how much I want that either....

Carmilla: Just remember to burp the child thoroughly between changing breasts if the princess is breastfeeding, and especially after. It should help with any projectile vomiting.

Vaggie: (smiles softly and relaxes) Do... you have anymore words of maternal wisdom for me? I... uh... feel pretty useless right now.

Carmilla: Hmmph. (sits down at her desk and leans back in amusement) Grab a notebook, and I'll give you a few tricks of the trade.

[atarathegreat]

After the Tokyo Revengers sibling headcanons, i’ve been thinking abt something. What abt the same characters you did the headcannons for(especially Takuya), but if their older sibling was ACTUALLY a gang leader??

The reader as a gang leader? Sounds like the perfect thing to me! Just know, a ton of these guys are obnoxious.

Ran and Rindou Haitani

Give up on free time

They want to hear all about the fight you were in

Was it a huge gang fight? Did you kill someone? Did you die?

Bring your kid siblings to work day every day that they don't have their own gang activities

Your guys know better than to fight with the brothers, either they'd get it from you or from Ran/Rindou

and god help them if they tried talking shit about anything you decided

they started an all out brawl during a meeting you were holding

you only watched, waiting until most of your guys were knocked sideways before you stopped them

It wasn't your proudest thought, but you knew you were the reason they joined a gang

Nahoya and Souya Kawata

Nahoya is trying to fight you all the time

sleep? No. Nahoya jumping from your closet to attack you when you relax

Souya, often times, is able to warn you and you can throw Hoya around a little

You're constantly helping them with tips on how they can be better captain/vice captain. Souya is the one whose asked, while Hoya pretends he isn't listening

you were there when Souya lost his cool, and you stressed to Nahoya every time they left "do not let him get overwhelmed."

of course you send your vice commander to check on them, it's a visit that Mikey and Draken know about and approve every time

Mitsuya Takashi

considers himself lucky that he has help with Mana and Luna, you didn't have any and you had the girls plus him to take care of

he didn't mind you running off when you needed, he understood the gang responsibilities

you often try to plan your stuff around his duties if you can, though sometimes there is a bump in the road

You used to give him rides on your motorcycle, you're the reason he rides often

Mikey allows you to show up for some of the meetings, since you like to be informed of what's going on in the turf next to yours, besides, it's good to have a relationship with the other gangs

if you're in the area of a fight between Toman and another gang, you make your guys stop and you all watch, making sure that once it's over everyone is okay and patched up

You scold Mitsuya while you wrap him up, slapping bandages on a little rougher than needed

"You do the same thing?" "I'm older! It's different!"

Please, for the love of everything on earth, ask him to mend your clothes after a fight. He wants to help.

Chifuyu Matsuno

He's trying to flaunt it in school

Drags you to see Baji, whose overly unimpressed

You like his friend, even though he's a smartass

your gang is never left alone, Toman always wants to fight

Not Draken though, behind the scenes he is trying to form an alliance

If Chifu needs help, you hurry to his aid. No one hurts him but you

Chifuyu had come home beaten once, you hunted the guys down and made them wish they never even crossed paths with him

he does the same for you, even though your gang had already handled it

you've definitely drop kicked Chifuyu while growing up

Draken

constant fights between you and the working ladies over your gang members coming around

growing up, Draken would try to keep you from arguing with them, but as a third year he'd come out of his room and just swing at you

that's a whole new problem for the brothel, aside from the cheers your guys are screaming

"Shut up, brothel boy!" "Says you, ya' titty watching bike rider!"

its funny to everyone but you two, who end up on the floor with bloody noses, he learned to fight from you after all

you'd do anything for him though, even dismantle your group

(OG timeline) when Kenny died you only slept in his room, only wore his kimono shirts, only visited his grave, there was no more of you being a leader

(Past) When Emma was killed you went with him to the funeral, gave Mikey your condolences, and waited for your brother. you even took it upon yourself to send guys to check on Toman turf and keep losers from moving in on it

You taught him and Mikey, alongside Shinichiro, how to fix a bike.

[salted-anime-takes]

Mob Psycho 100 (S1, S2, & S3)

Author: ONE

Studio: BONES

Genres (Listed by MAL): Action, Supernatural, Comedy

Premiered: Summer 2016 (COMPLETED)

Anime vs. Manga?: Both are so charming. It's worth checking both out. I really enjoy the progression of ONE's artstyle throughout the manga, too.

Salted Genres: mentor-apprentice, good sibling rep, respectful towards women (albeit without any taking lead roles), grownass man worthy of being babygirl, well-written characters, GREAT comedy, con artistry (lol)

Major Trigger Warnings: Not really??? Esper dad fights his esper son, but we're already in esper territory. ONE makes it clear that many adult espers are poorly adjusted socially, and the father character fighting his son is quite clearly Not a good guy.

Can I Watch It Around My Parents?: As long as they don't hate Supernatural themes, you could easily watch this around them. Couple of comedic scenes involve smartass guys getting their shit kicked in so bad, they get blasted to the point of their clothes disentigrating, but it's clearly meant for comedic purposes and not sexually. Trust me. He needed to be humbled.

Artstyle: Unique, leaning towards shounen. Heavily respects ONE's style while bringing it to a fuller depth and severely objectifying Reigen Arataka (he's in his late 20s). Not afraid to look raw or "ugly" (which is so refreshing).

Personal Review: Fuck you, this show is practically perfect. I don't have to say anything. You're on tumblr- Reigen is a god here. But seriously, just watch it. It's one of the few animes I wholeheartedly will recommend to anyone. If you can't appreciate it, it's just your loss. People who cry that "all anime has some caveat to it" to excuse shitty tropes? can eat shit. Mob Psycho is better than that AND your shitty harem anime.

Context: I watched this back in 2016 when it originally aired, and it was the fight with Teru (episode 4) that really got me hooked. Back then, ONE was the talk of the sphere for the recent release of One Punch Man S1 (Studio: Madhouse), and being the comedy fan that I am, I knew the humor was right up my alley. Season 1 was so fantastic that I immediately picked up the manga where it left off. All of us that were early fans used to convince people to watch it by saying, "If you liked OPM, this is the creator's piece he really put his heart into the story for!" Even after the manga ended with such a fulfilling ending, I was eager to see it again animated with BONES' gorgeous action animation skills. Some anime can manage being absolutely timeless, and I firmly believe Mob Psycho takes the cake.

Favorite Character: Reigen Arataka. I am not immune to grownass, loser men with hearts of gold (or at least when it counts). If anything, his entire character arc is becoming less of a loser since becoming Mob's role model, and you gotta love it.

Fandom: I never engaged with it, but it's impossible not to see on here. People are pretty wholesome from what I've seen (aside from objectifying Reigen, but he can have it. As a treat). Most takes include making Reigen a father figure (which I disagree on. Mob has a father. He needed a MENTOR. Big difference.) and the expected various shipping takes. The majority of characters are men, so it's mostly mlm. Most of the popular ships are pretty cute, so it's worth checking out if you enjoy shipping! Reigen is also memed to hell and back, and I miss Redraw Reigen days with all my heart. Great memes.

[highlordofkrypton]

ACOTAR headcanons // (au) cassian

I feel like I need to put a disclaimer before my favs on here block me for being a cassian!girlie, BUT I'M NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS I SWEAR 😂😂😂 PLS LOVE ME ANYWAY I HAVE THE BRAINWORMS RN BEAR WITH ME

That said, I don't think I have much Cassian content to post aside from this (until Cassian week).

Anyway, this is in regards to my au!cassian, also known as Wildflowers!Cassian (my canon-divergent prequel fic), also ALSO known as Mathian (mathi!cassian -- shout out to @wingsdippedingold for the name I love it, I'm adopting it his full name is Cassian Mathian the first of his name, general of the night court, etc etc.).

The Tamlin x Cassian besties brainworms have taken a hold of me so, I've stopped fighting it.

ABOUT MATHI'S CASSIAN

uses 'bro' way too much.

imagines the mating bond to be something akin (but not as good) as having the perfect gym bro who spots you and supports you when you're trying to hit a PR

mental health adage: pain without gains is a no-no. it means that you should not be suffering pointlessly, and will encourage you to address ur problems so you can have MENTAL GAINS too.

values truth and justice, would fight his own people for doing the wrong thing; case in point, he was horrified at Rhys' misuse of his daemati abilities.

would never sleep with Mor because he knew Azriel liked her -- that's wrong bro. he would try to find a different way out, maybe 1v1 eris in a fallmart parking lot if it came down to it. i also feel like he's the type of character to make sure that someone's first time is really, really special. he would pull out all the stops to make his partner feel comfortable.

his favourite greeting @ tamlin is a headbutt or tackle. there is no reality where they don't end up wrestling, it's very embarassing to rhys and lucien as the local 'himbo' handlers.

i believe the proper characterization for cassian to be the himbo trifecta: kind, handsome and a lil bit dumb.

10/10 would save kittens from trees, also 10/10 would mistake a tasmanian devil for a cat that needs to be saved and gets scratched the hell out of him

vegetarian ally, he actually tried to start going vegan to support tamlin -- at least, when they're together -- but the unanimous consensus was that for the sake of prythian and its inhabitants, no one should suffer those bean/tofu farts (you might think this is a joke, but i will NOT expand on my tofu experience thanks) and he also thinks being vegetarian is beans only so like guys he's TRYING

it's very important to me that cassian is gray romantic or demi-romantic; i like to imagine that he feels very deeply, which is why he hides it with is silliness, and with his upbringing, it's not very easy to open up his world to anyone. idk, cassian sleeping around doesn't particularly speak to me. take this with a grain of salt, i haven't explored this side of him enough to be definitive.

rhys and azriel are his brothers, tamlin is his best friend in the whole world. rhys and tamlin killing each other's parents and the subsequent rift would have broken his heart, he would have sad puppied the rest of the series if I had any say in it.

i think if not for his bargain w/ rhys, he would have absolutely reached out for tamlin for help when Rhys disappeared (spoilers for my sequel mb???)

he is a super senshi at heart -- sailor mars, specifically, is his fav. he sees himself in her OK.

cassian is short, esp for a fae he's like 5'7"-5'10" at best and its great bc we love a short king

plays pranks on Tamlin the most bc Rhys is a smartass, Azriel is a knowitall, Mor and Lucien just don't believe him, he's scared of Amren and Tamlin always listens

i'm anti-bond in general, so i wouldn't mate him with anyone, but if the vibes are there, the vibes are there.

cassian is the first person outside Tamlin's family to help him do his hair

i think people underestimate the comedic value of cassian toting people around under his arms as a legit travel method. oh, someone isn't showing up? send cassian, he will fetch them for u

cassian did impersonate tamlin for a day in his court bc tamlin/cassian had a bet with everyone else that they AREN'T the same person and they are very, very, very different -- nobody noticed the switch, they just thought tamlin was having a very silly day. cassian even chatted up the local wildlife which... is very tamlin. the only things that did notice were the Green (flora magic) that were very 🙄🙄🙄 at cassian

is anti-tithe bc he doesn't know what it means; he suggested everyone donate a part of their earnings so that they can have a very big savings account to pay for things that affect the collectivity of the court, he is also taking NO NOTES on his brilliant idea nONE

tamlin will never say it, but cassian's birthday gifts are his fav (they r usually really ugly matching shirts with something really dumb on them)

I'll probably expand on this list if I have ideas, but I feel like this gives a decent framework to the type of character when ✨I✨ am referring to him. As a person, I do not live in the canon universe, and I have decided to make a personalized blorbo out of Cassian.

This is also the energy I bring my twitter memes 😂

[julemmaes]

Mattress Attack

this is set in the same universe as made you breakfast so it's just a random scene where the house of wind gang all live in the same apartment and cassian is a simp for nesta

Cassian came home to utter chaos that night.

Gwyn was screeching in the bathroom, crying out that she couldn't find any gauze in the mess their cabinets were.

Emerie was screaming over her, telling her to just fucking hurry before she bled to death.

He couldn't hear Nesta, but her trench coat on the hangers told him she was home, too.

He closed the door behind him, slowly, not sure whether to let his presence be known or turn around and go back outside.

It was only a few moments later that Emerie's words caught up with him.

Bleed to death?

"Girls!?" He called out, moving down the corridor.

Gwyn's head popped out of the bathroom and she sighed, her eyes watery as her shoulders sagged in relief, "I've never been so happy to see you."

He reached her quickly, his concern was through the roof as he asked, "What happened?"

His roommate grimaced as Emerie screamed at her to move her ass and Gwyn quickly went back to the task at hand.

"Nesta stabbed herself."

Cassian blinked, not sure he'd her correctly.

"What?"

"Nesta. She stabbed herself with-"

Emerie forcibly pushed him aside and ran into the bathroom. She opened one of the cabinets and took out a package of gauze, shaking it in front of them.

As one, they went striding back to Nesta's bedroom and Cassian noticed only then the trail of blood drops on the floor.

His lungs seized.

"What happened?"

It was then that he saw her, Nesta. She was laying on the floor, her head turned towards the door and away from her open hand and... the pair of scissors sticking out from her palm.

What the—

"Fuck." He breathed out, moving his eyes to her pale pale face. Nesta smiled weakly, her eyes pinched in pain. "How?"

Before anyone could reply, Nesta snorted, and with a half lidded glance, said, "The mattress attacked me."

He was even more confused than before. His heart racing out of his chest with worry.

"And if you'd just fucking waited for me as I'd asked you to, you wouldn't be in this position right now." Emerie retorted with anger in her tone.

Cassian's surprise spiked a few notches, adding to the storm of emotions he was feeling right now. He rarely saw the girls pissed at each other. But he needed to focus on what was going on here.

"Did you call an ambulance yet?" He asked.

"Shit," Gwyn whined, turning a concerning shade of green. "I can't stand the smell of blood."

Emerie was cautiously tending to Nesta's wound, but her tone was pleading when she said, "Go to the kitchen and sniff some lemon, please. I can't hear you vomit or I'll die."

Cassian almost laughed at their dramatics and he dropped to his knees next to Nesta, taking Gwyn's spot. He was so close that his thigh brushed her naked arm.

As Gwyn left the room and Emerie got up to get her phone, he ran a hand down Nesta's shoulder.

She was already looking up at him, focusing hard on breathing. In through her nose, out from her mouth. Her perfect, rosy, lovable lips parted with the effort of not crying.

He focused on her eyes, moving a strand of hair from her face. "Care to explain what do you mean by the mattress attacked me?"

Nesta chuckled and winced immediately after.

"Fuck it hurts."

Without looking at her hand, he nodded, feeling bad for his friend. "Who would've guessed having scissors in your palm would hurt."

"Not the right time, smartass."

He pointedly looked at her, his eyebrow rising.

She drew a deep breath, "I bought a new mattress and couldn't get the plastic off. I didn't really think the thing would spring open like a fucking clown-box and I fell pretty badly on the scissors."

He tried hard not to laugh in her face at the imagery his brain conjured. Nesta being smacked in the face by a bed and getting flown across the room was the funniest shit he'd thought of in a long time. He was just sorry it ended this way.

"Can you still move your fingers?"

"Yep," she popped her p. "According to Emerie, no nerve was hit and I'm a lucky bitch."

She suddenly closed her eyes and her head lolled to the side, but from the way she groaned she still seemed conscious.

Cassian frowned, "You feeling faint? Did you hit your head too?"

Nesta shook her head no, "I just need to get this over with."

He went to twine their fingers together, looking to soothe her somehow, but that's when Emerie entered the bedroom again. Thinking Nesta didn't want their friend to see them holding hands, Cassian almost slipped away, but Nesta clutched his fingers in a strong hold and took a shaky breath.

He felt his heart in his throat.

Squeezing gently, he let her know he wasn't going anywhere and he patiently waited with her on her floor, her quasi-murderer new mattress only meters away from them and already stained with blood.

It didn't take long for the ambulance to show up and throughout the entire process, the paramedics worked around him. Cassian never parted from Nesta, holding onto dear life while she got stitched up.

Progress, he thought. Stupid ass progress, but still something.

[luna-alatus]

" .•°¤* 𝐿♡𝓋𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 .•°¤* "

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ➷ Headcanon➷ ╚» Prompt: 'Ranpo helping with love letters-.. kinda.' ╚» Character/s: Ranpo Edogawa ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ » Ranpo Edogawa ➶ So.. how (reader) got themselves into this situation was quite-.. tricky to say the least. They needed help writing a love letter, yeah.. to whom it was for? Well, it was for nobody but the sweet loving smartass detective Ranpo of course. But- right now, as the narrator- I did say the (reader) got into a tricky situation no?

➶ You wanna know what situation that is? Simple, they were getting help from Ranpo, on how to write a proper love letter that was.. unbeknownst to him (we all know he knows..) was supposed to be for- well them- so yeah. That's how the (reader) somehow got into this tricky situation, granted they could've asked Kunikida, Atsushi- or even Dazai..

➶ Anyone! Anyone from the ADA who was present now but no-.. they had to pick the one they'd be giving the letter out to in the first place to help them write the letter itself.

➶ Yeah, go (reader.) ______________________________________________________________ » Scenerio

"You think this is alright..?" (Reader) would inquire the detective who was sat on their desk, munching away on yet another sweet as they'd get the letter re-checked by the male for the.. 100th time or so now.

But Ranpo being Ranpo- he of course helped them out, at a price which was to get him candy and stuff from the cafe downstairs or course. Asides from that well, (reader) somehow managed to convince the guy to help them out with a bit of bribing but her. At least it was working- kind of..?

"Mmhg? Well- munch I'm pretty sure that's alright now (reader) seems like a perfect love letter to me."

A simple reply, with a compliment at the end-.. but as the (reader) glancing at the male. The guy was more or less very very relaxed, munching away on his lollipop as always. Although, even if they got a pretty good review out of the male who was supposed to receive the love letter in the first place, the (reader) didn't think it was 'Perfect' as Ranpo called it.

"Are you sure?- What if I made some spelling mistake- a grammer mistake-! Shi-.. okay, Ranpo come on! Please just check it one last time-.."

Ranpo, despite looking pretty chill and nonchalant about it- had a small frown now, clearly kinda sad? Disappointed..? Maybe- who knows, all the (reader) knew is that the detective was frowning.. that was a bad sign.

"(Reader), I've checked and re-check that like.. at least 100 and 10 times over, besides- you aren't paying me enough for all the work. Ya know that?"

They'd just keep themselves from rolling their eyes since last the (reader) check, they weren't the ones putting in the effort to write the love letter in the first place.. sighing, they'd pull their wallet out and grab like-.. at least 3000 Yen.

Knowing the male's spending habits when it came to sweets, and since they were desperate at this point. They would hand the 26 year old detective the money- earning a confused sound from the male. Before the (Reader) explained the catch.

"Fine- can you please just check it one last time. Then you can use that money to buy yourself some sweets and other stuff in the cafe downstairs as payment.. please?"

The (reader) even added that cute puppy-dog look they'd do to get what they'd want- kind of.. depending on the person they'd do the look to. But as Ranpo thought about the odds- he'd just sigh and nod, after all.. he was getting free sweets from this. Pocketing the money, he'd push himself off of (Reader)'s desk and re-check the letter again. Before placing it don on their desk assuring them the letter was fine and perfect.

"There, it's all good- no grammar mistakes, no spelling mistakes- nada, nothing- now! I'll be downstairs getting my sweets!"

(Reader) watched the male bounce to exit the office, not before calling out to them, saying 'Thank You' for the help the male gave them as they'd re-check the letter themselves before starting to pack and fold it to place it into the envelope they had. Hopefully- when Ranpo came back from the cafe.. they'd enjoy the letter when they were done making it look neat and nice-

Now, the (reader) was excited to give it to them of course-.. but as always, it seems Ranpo already figured out who the letter was for as.. before the detective left. He decided to pause and call over his shoulder to gaze at the (reader.)

"Oh! And by the way, I'd love to go out with you (reader)~ Thanks for the money to buy sweets by the way! See ya in a bit!"

With that-.. the man-child of a detective was out of the ADA's office door as the (reader) paused in their movements..

"Damn it-! He figured it out-… Again…!"

[geraskierficrecs]

End of the Year Updates (2022)

Thank you all for hanging around and continuing to be amazing friends, writers, artists, and readers for the Witcher fandom!  You have all been incredibly supportive and make me so glad that I am a part of this too.  To that end, I’ve collected all the fics I’ve completed or are in progress this year.

Links and descriptions under the cut.

In-Progress:

The Sin Eater

“He doesn’t have much time now,” the demon observed, “Even Witchers need oxygen. This is your only hope of saving him.”

Jaskier’s face went firm and determined, turning back to the creature with no sign of his earlier hesitation.

The demon looked amused. “Are you sure he’d worth giving up so much?”

“All that and more,” Jaskier whispered.

Then he stepped into the circle. ————————— To save Geralt, Jaskier lets himself be possessed by the demon he was hunting. Will there be anything left of the bard for Geralt to save?

The Fixer

In the world of the wealthiest members of society, there is only one man who you call when there is a problem that needs to disappear. Whether it's killing off your competition or ensuring you have the blackmail you need to keep your enemies at bay, Jaskier--better known as Dandelion--has made a living getting his hands dirty.

So, when the offer comes to track down the missing child of a billionaire CEO, Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier is more than happy to go undercover and get the information they need to ensure Geralt doesn't become a problem.

But what happens when he starts to have feelings for the kind, smartass barista and his strange family?

Completed Multi-Chapter Works:

Lark of My Heart

“What do I smell like to you?”

Geralt looked up from where he was sharpening a blade to frown at the bard. “What?”

“You’re always sniffing around me,” Jaskier explained with a smile that covered the sheepish blush on his cheeks, “And I've read that Witchers have a keen sense of smell so tell me, what do I smell like to you?”

Home. ___________________________

After the mountain, Geralt faces the reality of what his temper has destroyed and tries to pretend like he's fine with that. (He isn't.)

Call Me Sunshine (Jaskier/Eskel)

It becomes a habit to keep an eye on the front door every Wednesday. Jaskier told him after the second week that he tries to grab the flowers on his lunch break. It’s how he found the shop in the first place.

“I tutor a kid near here,” he tells Eskel as he watches the florist trim the thorns off some David Austen roses. “He’s a menace, but his mom wants him to learn piano and is willing to pay for all the grey hairs I’m getting.”

“You play piano?”

“And a few other instruments. My favorite is the lute.”

Eskel grins a little. “A lute? Do you moonlight as a bard too?” ___________________________

Or, a florist AU with enough misunderstandings and pining to fill an entire season of a CW show.

Dying for You (Again and Again)

By his understandably shoddy memory, Jaskier had died over 1300 times since he first drew breath several hundred years ago.

Somehow, none of those deaths ever seemed to hurt as much as the dreams of Geralt. ___________________________________

Or, the Old Guard AU no one asked for, but I wrote.

With My Last Breath

Jaskier is tortured by Nilfgaard--angst, whump, and fluff follow.  In that order.

Wolves and Men

There was a challenge in his expression. A dare for Geralt to cast him aside once more.

Like he had on the mountain.

If life could give me one blessing—Geralt shook his head to banish the memory of those vicious words. Words he’d had plenty of time to regret in the years since Jaskier had walked away. Since Gerat had sent him away.

“Jaskier,” he whispered, voice thick. ________________________ Jaskier thought he'd found the perfect alpha to follow for the rest of his life only to be cast aside. He should have known better--the White Wolf always hunts alone.

If Wishing Made It So

Geralt stared down into the ravine and the glittering rocks below and wished the rumors of the Witcher’s missing emotions were true. He wished for a lot of things, then, staring down at the smear of blue silk stained red.

None of them came true. ———-

On a hunt that goes bad, Geralt is forced to imagine a world where his bard will no longer walk at his side.

Series:

Villainous Universe

Series featuring a supervillain Jaskier falling for the superhero Witcher, Geralt of Rivia.  Contains explicit content as well as all my favorite angsty tropes.

The Sentinel/Guide Verse

Jaskier was half way through a lackluster rendition of one of his least popular songs when his world went static.

In his ears, a foreign heartbeat thundered, ragged and wounded. It felt as though his lungs had gone sideways with the sensation. Even the air itself tasted like it was charged with lightning, bright and bitter as ozone. Deep in his gut, he felt something urging himself forward, pulling him like some invisible string towards an unknown destination.

Something brushed across his senses, rough as tree bark, and sinking into his skin to crawl like ants beneath. He froze, eyes darting around the room like he could spot whoever it was that had sent his senses scrambling against the hard earned shields he was always careful to maintain. In his hands, his fingers faltered, melody disappearing beneath the wave of wrong that felt like it was choking him.

The answer was simple--and impossible.

There was a Sentinel here.

The Full Cops and Robbers Verse

An enemies to lovers story revolving around a charming, mysterious thief and the cop that is absolutely done with his shit.

The Witcher Soldier Verse

Geralt barely managed to slam the pommel of his sword up in a glancing blow that shattered the metal latch holding the Soldier’s mask in place. The Soldier rolled into the movement with a dancer’s grace and came to his full height just as easily. For a moment, his hands reached up to run over the exposed skin, before he slowly turned to face Geralt once more.

The Witcher froze in a mixture of horror and near-frantic hope.

He stared into the eyes of a dead man and whispered, “Jaskier?”

The Soldi--the bard frowned at him in confusion and spoke with a voice rough with disuse,

“Who the hell is Jaskier?” ___________________________

Or, the Winter Soldier AU.

A Light in the Dark Series

One will rise And one will fail, But none can escape destiny’s call. ____________

Jaskier is a bard with a secret. For all the world knows, he strolled onto a stage ten years ago and made a name for himself as the sidekick of the White Wolf. But what came before? And will he be able to escape destiny's call?

A Three Part Series Exploring My Take on a Feral Version of Jaskier

One Shots:

Star Crossed

“It’s not true.”  The man’s voice is rough as a knife over gravel and is short enough to make the bard falter at his tone.  It takes him a moment to realize he’s referring to the story he’d told as part of the festival.

“You don’t believe in the lost lovers?” he asks, offended to the very core of his romantic heart.  He stands a little straighter to glare up at the larger man.  “I’ll have you know that my story comes from the works of Master Essi herself--she knew the lovers herself.  It's the foundation story of our whole town and this festival!  How can you say the story isn’t true?”

A shadow crosses over the stranger’s face and eyes that flash gold flick away from the bard to stare at the trees and the lonely hill.  Despite himself, the bard feels his heart ache at the grief in his expression.

“He didn’t come back.”

Burn For You

Jaskier twitched helplessly as the women filed out of the mill and left him where he was bound on the floor.  He arched his back slightly, trying to see to where the fire was slowly creeping from the bed to drip onto the floor.  It hit the edge of the floor and he closed his eyes, going limp with exhausted pain.

His body ached as he lay on the ground, bleeding.  The floor was cold at his back and noise came through staticky and broken like a voice through a waterfall.  He could just vaguely hear footsteps thudding toward him accompanied by shouting.  Still, his vision refused to focus, and the only thing he could identify around him was the flickering red of the flames reflected in the cloud heavy with rain that would never be enough to stop the fire spreading through the mill.

All he could hope was that the smoke killed him before he began to burn.

Gilded With Blood (Aiden/Lambert)

Aiden watched the slowly growing pool of his life’s blood dripping onto the red rock below him. His chest rose and fell in ragged little gasps made awkward by the sword still pinning him to the earth. Pain was far away now and he knew only the cold chill of death would replace it.

As his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but think:

This was going to destroy Lambert.

A Gentleman’s Guide to Seducing Your Fiancé

It is a truth universally known that Geralt fucking hated Viscount Julien de Lettenhove.

Their rivalry was the stuff of legends, the sort that drew the eye and the idle gossip of members of court. It ensured that each time they came within five feet of the other, the entire room would go still, watchful. Eager. For what could be more delicious, more exciting than a fight between the Crown Prince and his new betrothed?

I’ll Sleep Forever Next to You

“Geralt?” Eskel’s voice distracts him from his spiraling thoughts. “What’s wrong? Where’s the lark?”

Geralt seizes on his brother in arms, near desperate for someone who might know what to do. “He’s sick. He’s, he’s coughing, feverish--”

“How long?” The older Witcher looks like he does before battle, steady and fierce.

“I, I’m not sure.” Abruptly, Jaskier’s early night has all manner of new meanings. Had he been feeling poorly that long? His brow furrows. “He sounded like he was having trouble breathing last night.” _____________________________________

Or, three Witchers freak out over a bard with a cold.

Don’t Leave Me

Jaskier’s hands tighten around Geralt before slowly losing their grip, spasming where they fall limp. “Ger--geralt--”

“Don’t you dare,” he snarls back, “Don’t you dare try to give me your fucking goodbyes. You are not dying.”

“S--silly man.” Jaskier’s smile is full of painful fondness. “Would you fight death for me?”

Geralt swings him up into his arms and nearly weeps at the sound of familiar hooves running in his direction. “Every. Fucking. Time.”

Between One Heartbeat and the Next

Please. Please, not this.

Don’t make him listen to Jaskier’s voice beginning to strain in a way it never did on stage even as he continued to reassure Geralt.

“It’s okay… Geralt, you’ll be okay.”

Not without you.

“You’re...gonna be fine in...just a little while.”

You won’t.

“ ‘s...not...so bad...like going to sleep.”

Nononononopleaseno

Waiting for the Sun

Jaskier was dying.

The confirmation came with each cramping, shallow breath and spots of grey drowning out the mottled stone walls that would become his tomb. After all the years he’d spent terrified of this moment, it was almost anticlimactic to realize he was too tired now to fight back any longer. He was dying. The world would continue without him.

Blood dripped from his fingertips and formed erratic patterns against his own skin. Over the sound of his racing heart he could hear footsteps and murmured voices that made him want to vomit or rage in fury.

They were watching him. He didn’t need to look up into the window to see the strange faces twisted into cruel smiles, pleased at his suffering. He hated them.

Not a Damsel, Not in Distress

The one closest to him raised his trembling sword with a panicked expression at the unexpected violence. “Wh--what the fuck? You’re just a bard.”

Jaskier’s smile was more a baring of his teeth, made more alarming with the blood sprayed across his skin and clothing. “Your first mistake was believing that.” _____________________________

Geralt and Jaskier are ambushed by a pack of mercenaries. It was really their fault for believing the yellow eyed Witcher was the only threat.

Frantic

Geralt was hanging limply against the rough bark. Two daggers kept him pinioned like a bug in place and left dark streaks of drying blood down his arms and exposed chest. Silver hair was matted close to his forehead from a sluggishly bleeding would that left golden eyes hazy and unfocused. Worst still were the bruises littering every inch of exposed skin like a collage of torment.

His Witcher had been tortured.

———

There was a name for the emotion burning like fire in his blood, eating away at the dandelion bard that had made his living seeking the pleasure of others. A simple phrase that barely encompasses the new tension in his bones and made his mind focus with singular, violent intent.

Wrath.

A Blade in the Back

There was a flicker of movement at his side and he felt something slam into his unprotected flank.  Magic blew past him, ruffling his hair but leaving him unharmed. Surprised by the sudden attack, Geralt stumbled and whirled to face whoever had hit him.  

Only instead of a beast, he saw a bard.

Jaskier clutched at his chest where a dark stain seemed to spread over his heart.  His bright eyes stared at Geralt helplessly, mouth opening and closing without sound.  Geralt stared back at him in shock until Jaskier dropped heavily to his knees, collapsing like a puppet with his strings cut. ___________

In the midst of a battle, Jaskier is hit with an unknown curse. All at once Geralt finds himself locked in battle with the only man he wants to protect.

The Sweetest Poison

“And what do you want in return?  Your freedom? Your safety?”

Jaskier didn’t flinch from her scorn and Geralt could see his knuckles go white with the force of his grip around the small vial.  “Save him.”

The mage stared at him for a beat before letting out a burst of laughter that echoed off the wall like the flutter of vultures wings.  “All this trouble for the Witcher?” she asked incredulously, “Tell me, boy, do you really think he would do the same for you? That he cares at all what happens to the bard who follows after him like a lost puppy?”  She stepped forward, confident as a soldier preparing his death blow. “Oh, I know who you are, bard. I watched you trailing after the Witcher, eager for every scrap of affection or interest he’ll toss your way. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jaskier was breathing heavily now, jaw clenched tight enough that Geralt could see the muscles fluttering with effort.

“Were you hoping this ill-conceived rescue mission would be enough to make him finally notice you?” she murmured with a mocking smile, “Poor little bard--always singing of love but never truly experiencing it.”

Into the Jaskierverse Additions:

Interlude: The Thief

Jaskier opened his mouth to cry out, to scream, anything, but it was ripped away by the jagged shards of reality tearing through him.  It was the djinn all over again.  The agony of watching Geralt disappearing beneath the rubble of the house.  The first chill that always signaled Geralt returning to Kaer Morhen.  The pull of power and magic that he now recognized as the moment before a spell hit and he was left with no option but to wait for the pain to hit--helpless in the whims of an unnatural force.  

Only this time there was nothing to stop the raw power that seemed determined to unravel him down to his very soul.  

He

     was

                remade.

Not Without You

“Geralt?” he finally whispered, a fragile hope in the familiar word.

“I’m here,” Geralt said as he crossed the room to stand next to the table.  “I’ve got you.”

Kicking aside the corpse of the mage, he fumbled with the restraints until he was able to release Jaskier’s arms and legs.  They twitched weakly against him and Geralt ran his hands over the rough shirt and pants Jaskier had been dressed in, searching for any other injuries.

“Geralt?”

“It’s me,” Geralt soothed. “They won’t hurt you again, I promise.”

Jaskier’s hands found an anchor against the front of Geralt’s shirt and he shuddered violently.  “I thought...I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

[zeldynymph]

"Desperate Touch..."

This was one of my Kinktober entries I made for a bot, but I decided to complete the story instead of leaving it on a cliff-hanger :)

Captain John Price, a man whose very name commanded unwavering respect, had dedicated the majority of his illustrious career to covert warfare. His journey was riddled with perilous moments: being riddled with bullets, enduring captivity, surviving explosive blasts, enduring incarceration, enduring torture, and even being left for dead.

Through these harrowing ordeals, there was a singular constant that consistently defied the odds, saving his life - the simple yet potent allure of tobacco, embodied by his cherished cigars.

John's penchant for cigars was nothing short of miraculous, given the sheer quantity he consumed. If it weren't for the limits of the human form, he might have tried smoking himself. His team often pondered the exorbitant monthly expenditure he must have been incurring on his cigar habit, but they never dared to question him.

He'd been repeatedly urged to quit smoking and seek alternative pleasures. However, his response remained unerringly consistent - a wry, smartass retort that hinted at the indomitable spirit of a man who'd seen it all.

"Until I become old, incompetent and can't even wipe my own arse, the Cigars are staying..."

However, there was one person for whom he contemplated breaking his entrenched habits, a person whose very name could quicken his heartbeat: YN.

The thought of making her his for a lifetime, of slipping a ring on her finger, consumed his thoughts. They'd shared kisses, dates, and passionate encounters, despite having known each other since their early days in the military, yet they'd never made their connection official.

At nearly 40, an age often associated with beekeeping rather than such fervent desires, he marvelled at how one woman held the power to turn his legs into jelly and summon a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. YN was a magnificent concoction of beauty, danger, charm, love, and care, all wrapped into one.

In the quiet recesses of his mind, he'd often daydreamed about the tantalising sensation of her body pressed against his, her supple breasts against his chiselled chest, her firm curves fitting perfectly into his grasp. The mere thought sent shivers down his spine, rendering him nearly unhinged.

YN was tantalisingly close, yet tantalisingly out of reach. He yearned for her in more ways than one, both physically and emotionally, as his heart ached to claim her as his own.

For now, lacking the courage to confess his unwavering infatuation, he remained a silent guardian, a hidden admirer, watching over her from a distance, willing his moment of revelation to arrive.

Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, coating everything in a thick, soothing layer of water. The weather was nothing short of perfect, a balm for John's soul, casting aside the constant conflicts that plagued him.

He paid no mind to the fact that his clothes were thoroughly drenched, realising that wringing out his shirt could have filled the River Nile with the water that would pour forth.

In that moment, he was utterly self-absorbed, wholly immersed in the company of his beloved cigar and the intoxicating thoughts of YN that danced through his mind.

With a soft sigh, he reached up to graze his bearded chin, a freshly lit cigar resting comfortably between his forefinger and middle finger, as the rain continued to serenade him. "What I wouldn't give to dance with her in this downpour..."He placed the cigar between his lips, delicately nibbling on the leaf's tip before drawing a rich, molasses-flavoured puff that waltzed upon his taste buds. The exhaled smoke swirled into the rain, creating a mesmerising choreography with the cascading water from the heavens.

But as thoughts of YN flooded his mind, his heart raced with desire. He envisioned her dancing with unbridled joy in the rain, twirling gracefully, expertly evading each falling droplet. The image of her shirt, rendered translucent by the deluge, revealed a glimpse of her bare breasts.

The mere memory ignited a powerful surge of arousal within him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his hand instinctively descending to caress his own desire, a rush of heat coursing through his loins.

Taking another drag from his cigar, his fingers tightened around his burgeoning passion, exhaling the smoke in a deep, sensuous sigh. The magnetic allure of YN was astonishing, and she remained blissfully unaware of the profound effect she had on John.

"Figured I'd find you out here..."John cleared his throat, taken aback by the delightful surprise of YN's sudden presence. His eyes, brimming with desire, fixated upon her as if she were a mesmerising vision.

With a gentle smile, he extended his hand, offering her his cigar as a silent invitation to share in this intimate moment. "You look like shit..."

YN's laughter was a delightful melody that resonated in John's ears, filling the moment with warmth and shared intimacy. His eyes were transfixed on her as she gracefully brought the cigar to her lips, drawing in a slow, lingering puff before releasing it with a contented smile.

"I feel like it... One hundred letters of apology I've just had to write out. When will the war stop..."

John's smile was brimming with empathy as he extended his hand to accept the cigar that YN graciously returned. He placed it between his lips, savouring the subtle taste of YN's lipstick as he took a thoughtful puff.

Reaching out, he gently stroked YN's arm in a reassuring gesture, his lips curving into a warm smile beneath his lush beard and moustache, wordlessly expressing the profound connection they shared.

"It happens, my darlin'... The world is well and truly fucked..."

John observed as YN gracefully descended the wall, perching herself upon the damp concrete below. Retrieving a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, she delicately plucked one from the bundle, placing it between her lips in an attempt to ignite it. Unfortunately, her lighter was devoid of fuel, merely emitting a few feeble sparks.

Amused by the situation, John couldn't help but laugh, joining her on the wet concrete without a care for his already soaked attire. He fished his lighter from the confines of his jacket pocket and leaned in to ignite YN's cigarette, lending her a helping hand.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, John...""Not much, My darlin'.."

YN's laughter was a melodic accompaniment to the moment as she nestled her head against John's shoulder, casually flicking the burnt end of her cigarette away. Her eyes moved appreciatively over his form, observing John's subtle attempt to shift his legs to conceal the growing desire in his pants, a testament to her close proximity and the sensual thoughts that swirled through his mind.

A knowing smile curved on YN's lips as she extinguished her cigarette in a nearby puddle, relishing the soft sizzling sound that filled the air. With a boldness that was uniquely hers, she reached up and plucked John's cigar from his mouth, placing it between her own lips and taking an indulgent drag.

Grasping the cigar firmly between her fingers, she brought her lips to his, exhaling the cigar's smoke into his mouth, a sensuous dance of shared desire. In the haze of the moment, it was John who broke away first, his eyes glazed with longing as he gazed at her.

In a voice heavy with desire, he finally spoke, his hands tenderly finding their way to caress YN's waist.

"You drive me fucking wild...I can't keep pushing it aside. I need your body against mine..."

As John's lips met YN's, the cigar slipped from her fingers, landing in a puddle with a satisfying sizzle. Despite the awareness of dropping a perfectly good cigar, in that fleeting moment, it seemed inconsequential. Right then, nothing mattered except the intensity of the connection. Besides, she thought, she could always make it up to him later.

"John, you're soaked.." 

"Just stop talking and kiss me..."

John's words carried more of a plea than a command, his body craving her touch with an undeniable yearning. The brush of her lips against his felt tantalizing but insufficient. He hungered for more, an insatiable need pulsating within him.

His grasp on YN's waist tightened as he effortlessly lifted her, placing her on his lap with a fluid motion. His lips embarked on a journey, tracing a path down from her chin to her jaw before settling on her neck.

Her delicate neck; oh, how sweet it was. John savoured the faint essence of her perfume lingering on her skin, tasting it as he felt the subtle rhythm of her pulse beneath. In that moment, she seemed more alive than ever before, a vibrant presence that stirred something profound within him.

Amidst the swirling emotions of lust, desire, and perhaps something deeper, John found himself consumed by an urgent need for YN. The necessity to feel the silkiness of her bare skin against his own overwhelmed him. The longing to hear her unrestrained moans and soft whimpers grew more intense by the second.

His lips traced a delicate path along YN's neck, his teeth grazing gently against her jugular. His tongue danced, tracing invisible paths along the velvety softness of her skin. And then, as if uncovering a hidden treasure, he discovered it; a tender spot nestled beneath her jaw. The mere touch there coaxed a sweet whimper from her lips, a sound that stirred something raw and primal within him.

"Fucking hell..."

John's words rumbled forth, a low growl escaping his lips, while his stomach somersaulted in a mixture of anticipation and desire. Watching YN tilt her head backward exposed more of her exquisite neck to his hungry gaze. Instinctively, he shifted his hips upward, the pulsating mass between his legs pressing against YN's crotch.

He yearned for YN to grasp the depth of his longing, to comprehend the impact she had on his every nerve. He needed her to understand the intensity of his desires, and what he yearned to share with her.

With a deliberate movement, his hands glided up beneath her shirt, tenderly caressing her breasts through the fabric of her bra. John drew his head back slightly, reluctantly parting his lips from her neck. His gaze fixated on her shirt, now translucent from the rain, revealing the allure of her black, lacy bra underneath.

"Oh, you little fucking tease..~"

In that moment, John's longing eclipsed any concern for onlookers. His desire to possess YN right there, amid the rain, burned with such an intensity that left no room for hesitation. He yearned to lose himself in her, to connect on a primal level, to feel body convulse and envelope him.

With an urgency that brooked no delay, John tore open YN's shirt, the delicate buttons surrendering to his fervour, scattering in all directions, unveiling her drenched and alluring chest.

His hands traversed the terrain of YN's thighs, a firm grip conveying his desire as he leaned closer to her chest. John's kisses rained down upon the apex of her breasts, gentle yet fervent, a fusion of affection and unbridled desire.

His teeth left tender imprints, marking YN in a possession that felt primal. Metaphorically, John embodied the wolf, and YN, the unwitting sheep drawn into his grasp.

His fingers ascended, teasingly pulling at the straps of her bra before swiftly dragging it down, forgoing any subtlety of unclasping. YN's breasts were liberated, prompting a soft, involuntary moan to escape her lips as the fabric caressed her nipples on its descent.

Instantly, John's lips enveloped her left nipple while his fingers deftly attended to the right, eliciting an immediate response from YN. She surrendered to an onslaught of pleasure, her body quivering with each sensation, a fiery yearning igniting between her legs.

The divine taste of her skin lingered on his tongue, sending an involuntary groan escaping past his lips. The sensation of her taut nipples against his mouth aroused an intense desire within him, prompting his hips to surge once more, pressing fervently against YN's core.

"God...you taste so fucking good..."

John withdrew from YN's nipple with a noticeable pop, a glistening trail of saliva lingering on his lips. He gazed up at her with eyes heavy with desire, a suggestive smirk playing on his lips.

His hand ventured down towards his belt, deftly unfastening it before swiftly pulling down the zipper, exposing the bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. Observing YN's eyes tracing the movement of his hand, he awaited the moment her gaze fixed upon his cock.

Without delay, YN gracefully shifted from his lap, assuming a kneeling position before him. Her hands swiftly delved for the waistband of John's pants and boxers, deftly pulling them down. In an instant, John's erect cock was liberated, evoking a subtle moan from his parted lips.

His hand extended towards YN's, leading her fingers to encircle his shaft, a gentle smile gracing his features. Initially guiding her in a tender, rhythmic motion, he gradually released her hand, granting her the freedom to explore at her own pace.

"That's a good girl...Just like that.."

John's head arched backward in response to YN's accelerating touch, her hand moving with increased speed and pressure, gliding along the sensitive contours of his shaft. The sensation was nothing short of divine, her gentle fingers stroking him in an up-and-down motion, causing his legs to quiver with the sheer intensity of pleasure. Had YN not been there, he might have involuntarily reacted physically, so intense was the gratification coursing through him.

A deep, resonant moan echoed from deep within John, his eyes shuttering closed while his lips parted in a silent testament to the ecstasy he experienced. His grip on his thighs tightened, introducing a fleeting hint of pain that mingled seamlessly with the overwhelming pleasure.

Immersed in this state of bliss, John was momentarily unaware until the tantalizing touch of YN's lips enveloped his tip, an exhilarating rush surging through him. His hands found their way into YN's hair, gently guiding her as she bobbed rhythmically along his cock. This moment was an awakening, a revelation of bliss unlike any he had experienced before.

It took all of his strength not to force her head down and throat-fuck her. 

John's moans increased, heralding the imminent arrival of his release. His body tensed, a tightening sensation coiling in his abdomen, signalling the approaching climax.

Yet, the moment YN's tongue glided over his tip, all semblance of control shattered. His body convulsed involuntarily, his hands gripping YN's head gently yet firmly as he thrust into her mouth, releasing his hot cum within her and across her parted lips. Each undulation of his climax was met with breathy whimpers that escaped from parted lips.

As the waves of intensity subsided, his body slackened, chest heaving with the exertion of the moment. Releasing his hold on YN's head, he chuckled softly while observing her as she delicately licked away his seed from her lips. With tenderness, his hand extended, cupping her cheek in a gesture of affection.

"That's it love, don't waste a drop.."

[slashingdisneypasta]

Smartass: *blocking his S/O exit* Heeey toots, where's the fire?

S/O: You know I have work today.

Smartass: Aww come on, baby doll I ain't gonna snitch if you won't.

S/O: If I stopped you working you'd get cranky.

Smartass: Suuure I would but it's my day off Angel Face. *deliberately lowers her briefcase and leans in real close* You know if anyone gives ya trouble I'll be there in two flips of a nickel.

S/O: ...yes.

Smartass: *moves her hair aside* Know anyone who's givin' ya trouble?

S/O: *giggles* Yes, you! *pulls his hat down over his eyes*

Smartass: ...Ya wound me, dollface.

S/O: Don't take tips from flirting from Greasy.

Smartass: You thinks dis is all his schtick? I'll have ya know that worked on a looootta dames when we used to hang out at da Ink and Paint Club. *lights cigar* Bought plenty'a drinks AND saw the skirts hit da floor at the end of the night. But I ain't braggin'. Love gets ya into trouble. These days I'm like you, a hard worker.

S/O: Aw, flattery. You're sweet when you want to be.

Smartass: Waaatch it, doll. Or I'll have youse arrested for 'deliergency.'

S/O: Punish me when I get home.

Smartass: *smirks and takes the cigar out and blows a perfect heart*

YOU CAUGHT ME LITERALLY THE M O M E N T I WAS ABOUT TO GO TO GET OFF THIS SITE AND GO TO SLEEP.

NOW I-

NOW I-

I'M GONNA BE DREAMING ABOUT THIS, MARK MY WORDS. XDD Oh my goddddddddddddd. Sweet? Charming? Day Off Smartass??

Why hello

[marinerainbow]

THOSE HEADCANONS are all so perfect!!! Ahhhh, it's like I'm reading an in-depth Wikipedia page for themmm. Something I've always wanted!!

I have a lotta follow up questions because I must know more!! But I won't attack you with them XD I will just ask one v v important one-

Has Psycho drawn the other toon patrol members?? And if so, who and what were their reactions? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

(Also I remember you telling me you headcanon smartass and stupid to be family a long time ago, and I still to this day love it ^^ I get those vibes from them when I write them ^^)

Ok first of all, thank you so much!!! I honestly didn't think they looked like a Wikipedia page, but wow! That's a big compliment!!!

And YES, I want ALL the follow up questions!!! How else can I develop them more? XD and because I genuinely want to see your questions!

(Ok so it isn't just me who thinks they are family! XD ^^)

As for your question. Honestly, I can't really see him getting so attatched to the others that he draws them. Aside from Stupid maybe? But at the same time, he did have the best view of all their deaths, so he could see them all die and still laughed on. The others can be argued that they just toon died and they are, technically, still alive, but Smartass' death has no excuse-

But, I love the idea of Stupid and Psycho becoming friends, so I will say he definitely drew Stupid a portrait. As for how Stu reacted, I imagine he at first just complimented Psycho's artstyle, not getting how important I was until after Psycho explained to him. And then Stu started crying and hugging his friend while saying, "I love you too!"

(Then cue Smartass thinking Psycho had hurt his brother and comes running, and that opens up a whole other can of worms)

[ghostaholics]

ACTUALLY SCREAMING. The way you write their thoughts is so good?? Like, the hatred is palpable girlie.

Okay, favorite parts (literally the whole thing, but I'll point out specifics:

Gaz is such a smartass, and he can match her blow-by-blow so their banter is really satisfying but I love how underhanded his is (reminds me of that scene with Alex - "Everything we do is illegal," to Gaz's "Only the good stuff," and "You wanna translate that from bullshit to English?" Her snark is more in-your-face, for good reason, and their characters complement each other well.

. The whole bit with him driving alongside her while she was walking and then getting out of the car?? The conversation for the pickup??? Perfection. I love him so much. I'm still in awe that you're doing an entire series for him and that I get to engage in the magnificence that is his character. Every single part feels like Christmas and I can't stop the smile on my face when I see that you've posted.

Hector and Gaz being referred to as her ex; busted out laughing, that was beyond funny. I did not expect that. Then I reread it again after I finished because it was just that entertaining.

Her house?? So sad?? I actually expected it to go like she got rid of everyone, but it hit so much harder knowing that everyone quit. Can't even imagine what it was like for her to be left in that manner, and then she's just in this gigantic house all by herself. The descriptions were cool too, especially the part about how the exterior looked like since nobody was properly tending to it, and then the sheets over the furniture in Gaz's room. Super desolate and heartbreaking.

The juxtaposition between Gaz trying to extend an olive branch by making sandwiches and her thinking of all the ways to poison him was marvelous. He's like, oh hey maybe this will sort of, kind of get me on her good side, maybe soften her up, meanwhile she's plotting to murder him. Fantastic. What I love about this being enemies-to-lovers is the fact that she has has a legitimate reason to hate him, and it's not just brushed aside but you delve into how it's affected her since then. It's not 'oh, haha you just annoy me', which you have included in the beginning and I also find enjoyable to read, but it's straight up like 'at this point in time there's nothing you can say or do that will make me feel better about what happened'. Lots and lots of stuff revealed in this part. Their relationship is already very complex.

I like how the reader doesn't take any shit. Girlbossing it, honestly. Always a fan of the protection trope and how he's supposed to be watching over her, but I could literally seeing her being more than capable of taking care of him in her own way (which is not a prediction just a rambling about how I feel regarding her characterization). I think it's neat to see how strong she is. Of course, she wouldn't be able to fend off the threats, which is the whole reason why the protection detail is in place, but it's nice to learn how badass she is as a civvie and it really makes me root for her. She's really standing up for herself.

Okay your author's note?? You don't even need to explain yourself. I don't care if this was just set-up because I'm devouring all of it.

Cult of Vagabonds:  Chapter Two

Main MasterList || CoV MasterList || Previous Chapter ||

Pairing: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x F!Reader

Synopsis: Cold was a day in hell before you admitted to this boy you were terrified.

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: Angst, self destructive tendencies, insinuations of PTSD, talks of death, thoughts of violence, banter but it’s more just straight up attacks

A/N: This should be the last chapter of set-up then I’ll be getting into the gritty stuff.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Keep reading

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 23

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker, Passive Aggressive Canned Soup, Sick Peter Parker, Caretaker Stephen Strange

Notes: Please remember to read the tags/warnings listed and read/avoid as best for you. YOU are responsible for the content you chose to consume on the internet.

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Chapter 23

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Although Peter had been baffled at the extravagance, he had to admit the finished basement was wonderful. He found himself down there most days, running for at least an hour. The convenience was just too perfect to pass up, especially as the weather had started to chill with a vengeance.

"Not surprising, given how late summer lasted," Stephen had said. "I have a feeling the rest of autumn and winter will be just as persnickety. Best keep to the treadmill, I think."

(In his more fanciful moments, Peter wondered if Stephen's purchase of the treadmill and finishing out the basement was to keep the neighborhood ladies from watching him run. He was probably being ridiculous, but it was a fun thought.)

In any case, Peter agreed with him about sticking with the treadmill given the weather. After his bout of influenza, the last thing he wanted was to deal with risking getting sick again.

He definitely wanted to avoid getting sick again because Stephen hadn't touched him since. Aside from the usual kiss to his forehead before leaving for work, Stephen didn't have Peter undress before bed, and he certainly didn't wake Peter up for sex. Even their date night that Friday hadn't led to anything other than sleeping in the same bed again.

It was annoying, but honestly, Peter couldn't exactly blame the man.

Stephen had seen Peter at an undeniably low point, unable to control his basic bodily functions as the influenza took its toll and had him vomiting and expelling in equal turns. Peter still couldn't look at the commode in the bathroom without feeling embarrassed to his core. He had been so gross, and no wonder Stephen was in no hurry to assert his selecting spousal rights or even kiss him.

Still... Peter had needs, too!

Going on a week and a half and he was about ready to find a way to get the damned cage off and get his dick in hand. Or beg Stephen to do something over dinner. Or breakfast. He wasn't picky at the moment.

The storm was late for the season, but it was strong enough to knock out the power. Not wanting to feel helpless or think too hard on how it had been an equally stormy day when his Aunt May had passed, he went over to check on Ava. She'd invited him in eagerly and he saw that she'd lit a number of candles. Her plans - and now his plans - were for an afternoon of reading by the roaring fire she'd built in their fireplace.

He made notes to himself on how she'd set it up; a fire in the grand living room appealed to him.

"I heard from Clea," Ava said, motioning to her mobile. "There was a nasty auto accident, and the hospital is slammed. The storm took out the power, but the backup generators are going strong."

Peter gave a not-quite-audible gulp. "What if those fail?"

"Then the backup backup generators will kick on. The whole system is serviced thoroughly every quarter. Stephen will be fine," she added.

He thought about sending Stephen a message from his own mobile but decided against it. He didn't want to distract him, especially if the place was busy and there were patients who needed help.

He couldn't even start getting anything ready for dinner. He knew better than to break the seals of both cold cabinets and the deep freezers. The power would be back eventually, and he could always make some peanut butter sandwiches if nothing else.

He and Ava continued to talk and read by the fire and when it turned six o'clock, she mentioned pulling out some cans of stew to heat over said fire. Peter decided it was time to return home. He declined her offer to stay for dinner, even though he knew that circumstances would allow for him to eat outside of his usual rules.

He went home, eyed the fireplace, and drew up what he'd seen Ava do so he'd able to do the same one day. Then he pulled on another pair of heavy socks and a set of thermal wear to go under his jeans and sweater. Feeling comfortably toasty, Peter lit several candles, and he grabbed a wool blanket. After retrieving on of his books, he wrapped himself up and settled in the den to continue reading by candlelight.

In little over an hour, the power kicked back on. It was a quarter after seven according to his mobile and Peter let out a sigh of relief. He could throw a simple tuna casserole together and hopefully Stephen would understand why dinner was late.

He'd just put the casserole in the oven when he heard the sound of Stephen's Buick locking in the driveway, followed shortly by Stephen's opening the front door and immediately going up the stairs.

He quickly rinsed his hands and went upstairs himself, heading to the bedroom. "I'm glad you made it back saf-"

He trailed off.

Stephen's hair was damp from the rain, and he was... he was wearing dark blue scrubs.

It shouldn't have struck him as much as it did. Stephen was a doctor, a surgeon. Of course he wore scrubs. But he left for work and came home dressed in slacks and a button-down nearly every day and Peter had never seen him wearing them.

Stephen was already stupidly attractive. The dark navy pants only made his long legs look even longer and the top... the way he filled it out with his lean frame and how it highlighted how toned his arms were? Stephen in scrubs was... fuck, he was hot.

"Peter, are you okay?" Stephen asked, moving to pull off the scrub top.

Peter hurried forward to stop him. It was almost as if it weren't even him moving, but someone else.

"Peter?"

He couldn't take his eyes off Stephen's skin at the v of Stephen's top. Hell, how was that bit of skin so mesmerizing? He wondered why Stephen didn't wear V-neck shirts more often and then immediately dismissed that notion. No one else needed to see him like that. He'd just have to tolerate hospital staff seeing him as such - they had jobs to do and he was sure Stephen wouldn’t entertain any sort of flirting.

"You never wear these," Peter said absently, fingering the material of the scrub top and preventing Stephen from removing it. "I've never seen you in them."

Stephen let out an amused little huff. "There's been no call to wear them home. I'm only wearing them now because the clothes I was wearing were soaked in blood after I was called down to the ER."

That got Peter's attention. "Did you bring them home?" Getting blood out of anything was a pain, but doable.

Stephen shook his head. "They were a total loss. They went straight into the hospital bin that goes to the incinerator."

Peter frowned. Stephen's nice clothing, just marked to be burned? It was so wasteful!

"It's not my decision," Stephen said, reading his face. "Hospital policy for anything deemed a biohazard. We all get stipends for clothing throughout the year because of things like this. Scrubs are fairly cheap and stand-up to heavy industrial cleaning, which is why we have so many sets in our lockers at work."

"You should keep a few here," Peter murmured. The dark blue looked so good against Stephen's skin. He started pushing Stephen back to the bed, knowing he had to do something before this opportunity slipped.

"You find them attractive?" Stephen sounded amused and then let out a small groan as he sat down, and Peter immediately climbed into his lap. "Peter, you've seen me naked!"

"Yes, but I haven't seen you in a V-neck and definitely not in anything that shows off your forearms this way," Peter admitted. He felt Stephen stir beneath him and leaned back so he could pull at the drawstring of his pants.

"This is a surprise," Stephen said with a chuckle.

"It shouldn't be," Peter said, still focused on getting Stephen's pants off. "You’re so attractive it's almost disgusting."

Stephen laughed out loud. "And here I thought you were merely tolerating my attentions."

Peter looked up at him and was struck at the vulnerability hiding behind the humor in those odd, beautiful eyes of his. "No, I've always found you attractive and any initial resistance was more fear than anything else."

"You were afraid of me?" Stephen asked quietly. "Afraid I would hurt you?"

He shook his head. "Not of you, exactly, more of what it would mean. I was also kind of afraid it would hurt, a little, because the custodian I had at the bureau was pretty clear in what my role as a selected spouse was to be in the bedroom and feeling good wasn't supposed to be a high priority for me." He shrugged. "And then I worried I'd be rubbish at sex, and you'd get upset and punish me again, which I also kind of hoped for because then that meant I'd be able to justify feeling self-righteous and pissy about everything."

"It wasn't exactly the best start to our marriage," Stephen admitted.

"Maybe not, but we haven't done too bad since," Peter offered. He continued his self-appointed task of getting Stephen's pants down far enough to free his cock and with a little assistance from Stephen, the impressive length was there for Peter's mouth's taking.

When Stephen went to kick the pants off entirely, Peter stopped him. "No, leave them - and the shirt. Please."

He wanted that cock in his mouth; he was sure he was far from the best Stephen had ever had but surely, he beat whoever else had seen or tasted it in sheer enthusiasm. He maneuvered himself onto his knees and after a quick look at Stephen - whose eyes were half-lidded - he took the fat head of Stephen's cock into his mouth.

"Oh hell," Stephen groaned out.

Pleased with himself, Peter carried on.

He'd barely managed to pull Peter's mouth off of his cock before pouring himself down that gorgeous pale throat. As much as he enjoyed Peter's mouth on him, he vastly preferred spilling inside Peter the other way.

"Get your clothes off," he ordered, actually unfastening Peter's jeans himself. "Now."

It took longer than Stephen wanted, since Peter wore a set of thermal underwear under his jeans and sweater, but once the thick wool socks were flung across the room and cage hastily placed on the nightstand, Peter was sprawled on the bed, face flushed, eyes bright, and pretty cock all red as it filled.

He probably should have been more tender and gentler with Peter - he never wanted to hurt him - but he'd had the day from hell, and he'd missed the sex during the period of self-imposed celibacy he'd taken to ensure Peter was fully recovered from the influenza. His own hand couldn't hold a candle to the tight heat that was being sheathed inside Peter and every night since that Friday he'd spanked him had been a challenge.

He had to keep Peter pinned while he pushed in, watched his face intently for any hint of pain as he sank deeper and deeper until he was hilted. Beneath him Peter was doing his best to stay still though Stephen could tell he desperately wanted to move. Peter hadn't ever been cold or truly passive during sex, but he hadn't initiated anything other than the few times he'd gotten on his knees. Curious, Stephen released Peter's hands and Peter clung to him, hands fisting the starchy fabric of his scrub top.

"Please," he moaned. "Stephen, please!"

He'd dreamed that one day Peter would have the same need for him he had felt since first seeing him, that Peter would want him just as deeply, obsessively, and all it had taken was a cheap pair of navy-blue scrubs to sway his young husband to break.

"I've got you," he murmured and started to move.

It was different even from when Peter had ridden him; they moved together, Peter rolling his hips to meet every thrust and holding him tightly.

He worked off the frustration of his day, of his self-imposed celibacy, of hell! - the bad weather! as he worked in Peter and Peter gave back as good as he got. He pushed up to capture Stephen's mouth and they kissed for long moments as they moved together again and again in a coil of need and want neither had ever quite felt before. He felt the heat of Peter's release paint his scrub top and he let himself go with a series of long driving thrusts before stilling deep inside and filling him.

They collapsed, still joined - and Stephen still partially dressed - on their sides, breathing heavily.

A thought struck him, and he smirked. He opened his mouth to share that thought but Peter saw the look on his face.

"Stephen, if you make a joke about the doctor being in, I will make sure you have canned soup for the rest of the year," Peter warned, still breathy.

Stephen laughed and pulled his softened cock free, still a little amazed that he'd just fucked his husband while wearing his scrubs. This set could never go back to work with him; he'd never be able to concentrate whilst wearing them.

"Peter, I adore you," he said, still chuckling.

"You're tolerable,' Peter teased. "More or less."

"I've been called worse," Stephen said. "I'll take it."

It had been the sex talking, surely, Peter thought as he raced downstairs after hearing the oven timer beeping insistently.

Peter, I adore you.

Yes, definitely the sex talking. He wasn't under any delusion, knew that Stephen had had a hard day and he'd been an easy and willing outlet.

"I was planning on something a little more substantial, but we lost power for most of the day," Peter explained as set down Stephen's filled plate along with a cherry fizzy water.

"I'm sorry about that," Stephen said. "Usually when it happens, I'm at work so it's never been a concern. I'll have to look into a backup generator. You weren't too uncomfortable?"

Peter shook his head. "I went over to check on Ava, but she was fine and had a fire going. We hung out and read and it was nice. She also gave me advice on how to make a fire over here."

Stephen considered. "You'd want to?"

"I think it would be nice, especially as it gets colder," Peter enthused. "It felt really homey over there and she was even able to cook over it, which would be kind of cool."

"I'll ask Clea what chimney sweep service she uses, and we'll have ours serviced before we attempt to build a fire in it. The last thing we need is for us to burn the house down," Stephen said.

Cheered that he'd get the chance to use the fireplace, Peter doled out more casserole onto each of their plates and even grabbed another two fizzy waters.

"Feeling better?" Stephen asked as they went to bed that night.

"What?" Peter asked.

"You haven't been yourself, lately."

"Oh, I guess... I was worried you didn't want me anymore; you know?" Peter admitted. It was always easier to admit things in the dark. He understood why Stephen preferred it, at least.

"Why would you possibly think that?" Stephen asked.

"I mean, I didn't blame you," Peter added. "Seeing me so sick and gross like that had to be pretty off-putting. So, I get it, really."

"You think I stopped wanting you because I took care of you while you were sick?" Stephen asked incredulously. He sat up and turned on his nightstand lamp. "Peter, that's ridiculous!"

"What else am I supposed to think?" Peter countered, feeling defensive. "You haven't touched me until today!"

"Peter, you were sick. I was trying to be considerate and give you ample time to recover before throwing myself on you!" Stephen said. "I enjoy sex with you Peter, very much, and as you've experienced, I have no problem indulging. But it will never be at the expense of your health, not ever." He snorted. "I do possess some self-control."

"Oh," Peter said. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Any other concerns I can help with?" Stephen asked, not unkindly. "I can't read your mind."

"Claims of your perfection are only slightly over-exaggerated," Peter teased before sobering. "No, that was it. I was feeling sorry for myself because I felt... well, I wanted sex, and I still don't know how to just come out and say it."

Stephen studied him, eyes hot. "I'll teach you," he promised. "But, and I say this with great regret, not tonight. I'm far too tired after the day I've had."

Peter nodded and motioned for Stephen to turn off the lamp before settling back down into the bed. "That's fair."

"Go to sleep, Peter."

[queenbirbs]

because I'm curious, do you feel like your MC(s) are similar to you? You can expand on that as much as you feel comfortable, but as someone who basically writes exaggerated versions of me, I want to know more about the writers because some of my fav MCs.

oooh this is such a delicious ask, ty so much for asking it!

I have a slew of MCs, but I would say my main three that I’ve spent the most time on/with are Sloane from Open Heart, Elena from Distant Shores, and Jules from Slow Burn (even though she lives only on my 17k+ google doc right now).

Right off the bat, they’re all bi. Though they’re all in relationships with dudes in my works, they’ve had relationships with women, too. (In a perfect world, Sloane could’ve been with Aurora 😭.) They probably all lean on sarcasm as a crutch in a way that’s similar to me. Both Sloane and Jules have mommy issues, which they also get from me lol. Both of them lived with their grandparents growing up (which I also did).

They all have really good work ethics, kinda like a nose to the grindstone attitude that I guess is similar to me (I routinely work 50 hours a week, close to 80 a week leading up to holidays). But other than that, there’s not many similarities aside from a few personality quirks.

Elena is probably the one with the sharpest edges and a no-nonsense attitude. She doesn’t second-guess, doesn’t hem and haw over stuff. She’s also the most romantic of the bunch. I mean, she returned to a time period with no running water for a man. I simply would never. She’s a smartass, though, just like me.

Jules is a little more placating. She’s probably the closest in personality, because she worries a little too much about everything. She likes to look at something from all angles before she makes a decision. But she’s a chef and a culinary producer, and I have to reread a recipe sixteen times and don’t feel comfortable straying from instructions. The phrases “a pinch/dash of” and “until it looks done” strike fear into my heart. I bake cakes for a living and there’s no such thing as deviating from a recipe. So the idea of creating food dishes is a terrifying one. I don’t know how she does it. Which is also why, in my fic, she doesn’t really lol.

Sloane is the most sensitive of the bunch, being a fellow water sign (she’s a Scorpio), but would be fine with changing plans on a dime, while I need a week’s notice to function. We do have the same taste in men (older and with a little grey at the temples 🥵) and women (any and all of them ��). She’s blunt and forward when she wants to be. She also puts up with Ethan’s bullshit for like two years, when I would’ve given up on that man after book one.

[elecman108]

This has been in the works for several months only due to work, and it’s at a state I now want to share; My D&D PC Character References (all now the CORRECT heights, thank you past me for not doing that) now redone!

I lost the original file on my old drive, so I decided to remake them. Aside from Irina (in need of being redrawn anyway), Tempest (in need of some updates to his outfit), and Selgy (I could not find a version of her with most of her visible to reference from), here’s the full and current list! I will be adding in exactly one more - Lady Joy, a character I have decided to pull out of Blaze/Carrion’s backstory - and then I get to design more from scratch for fun!

Under the cut will be an alternate version of the image and updates to each of these morons from left to right based vaguely on where their heads are.

Oooooh you clicked on the read more, you’re invested in this long-ass post now.

Note: I did end up deciding to drop Zekiel, Azure, and Eddyn for different reasons: Zekiel was an uninteresting character build so I’m going to drop him to OC status and possibly make a new Aasimar in future, Azure made for a better NPC than PC, and Eddyn did NOT work in D&D and worked better in-line with my standard OCs. Either way, they’re still about, just not in the D&D zone.

Now, for the less important bit - the alternate image and the updates!

Welcome to hell, smartass! Anyhow...

-AXEL MEVIAS - Not visible here, but has +3 different outfits for 5 total; Standard, Winter, Fancy, Underwater, and Underwater2. The latter three are based on his Miitopia outfit (complete with cat ears/tail), and the two underwater ones are based off the Mermaid!Axel design I made after my DM allowed me to have him transform into a mermaid when getting his improved swim speed.

-ZARRIS “ASH” ATTREYU - A new guy!! He’s based on a concept I dropped from Blaze’s original design - a Colourblind Tiefling with a frankly OUTRAGEOUS outfit whose magic is only in greyscale. He has two forms; Colourful and Greyscale. Self-explanatory what they are.

-SERAPHUS - Incomplete as he is, the only changes to D&D!Seven is I made his horns bigger and changed the tip of his tail from a triangle to a diamond.

-TORI KING - The only change to D&D!Vic is I made her bandages more dense. That’s barely even an update in all honesty...

-TAIO ETRAL - Slightly updated D&D!Theo’s hair and shifted his eyes to be looking to the right instead of straight ahead. I’ll decide if his tattoos will change when I do his colours.

-CECILLIA - She has a LOT to mention... Updated her horns again, fixed some issues with her shirt/jacket, modified her jacket at the back, added a tail as she IS a tiefling, and fixed her hair length. I’ll be adjusting some of her colours too, so stay tuned!

-VERDA DEI’ILYA - Fixed a wonky face on her default look, fixed her rabbit tail/ears to just look better, and added bows to her shoes. She also now has a second form (not visible here) of an actual Harengon form as opposed to just a bunnygirl which has plenty of new stuff to look at, so stay tuned.

-MONA QUIXOT - Only change to D&D!Mona is I removed several eyes of the Somnovum because having seven of nine of them seemed a bit much. Now she has three.

-KRESS DARKLAW - Adjusted the colour of his pants (nice), and added in a new form of his halfling disguise Linos where he has wings.

-GOLDEN SHADOWS - Added an “S” after his name because it sounds better, and fixed the lines on his rapier to be thicker because they were bothering me.

-KAU - Eyes adjusted to fit the rest of the D&D refs. That’s... that’s it!

-BLAZE/CARRION “IFRIT” GOLDSHARD - Two new looks added, which are two Clown/Circus outfits for him beyond his normal look. All forms of his have the Ringleader’s Mask at his hip.

-RANRAN - No changes. She’s perfect already. <3

-LAYLA JAEST - D&D!Lailah now has a slightly different thingy-doodad on the sleeve of her jacket by her shoulder that looks a little nicer and is easier to draw.

-KARA SUNDANCE - Adjusted the look of her sword’s hilt so it made more sense, and removed the random orange underskirt to her tunic. I have no idea why it was there.

-MIRI EVENWOOD - Shortened her hair to be more reasonable, and adjusted the look of her bow so it made more sense.

-RASHA - Adjusted the colours of his tunic-thing to look slightly better. He now is looking to the right.

-URSINIA - Added ‘veins’ to her wings to make them look more like flower petals, added a charm to her belt-sash, gave her sandals less detail, and gave her shorts so she’s slightly more modest. Her dress is, however, further off her shoulders, so... Hey, you add shorts, you gain more boob I guess.

-MELIA OF THE AUTUMNAL FOREST - Mouthful of a name remains, no I will not change it. Adjusted the look of her freckles and changes some colours around so she didn’t have three shades of brown on her attire... And added a cocky grin.

-ELLANA JAEST - D&D!Ender’s scar that was taking up real estate on her face is now completely covered so she looks 10x better. Also I fluffed up her hair and moved her tail in behind her person.

-ORINA - Lost her last name in the divorce from my old drive, but modified her tattoos to look better. They are now a dark grey instead of black to better view the lines of her character due to the modified tatts.

-ILDAN KILARN - Separated the collar of his cloak from the rest of the cloak so it looks better, and fixed the bottom part of his armour (the skirt bit?) to look much better. Also gave him a slight haircut.

-REVEREND EZRA MASON - Gave the Reverend back his cross so he can ward away the demons, and he now has his alternate Werewolf form as a reference (not visible here, obviously). His pants are also white now because the vague colours of Kress and Ezra were too close and giving him white pants felt like a good idea at the time.

-ALLISTER DAL’THALOR - D&D!Alpha now has a better looking battleaxe and his last name changed from “Ethereal” to “Dal’Thalor” to better match him. Actually, all the D&D!OCs other than Mona have changed names to better match the D&D world, but Alpha’s the only one where the last name completely changed.

-OLIVER ENOIR - D&D!Alren has a better looking cloak and that is IT.

-LIXORI - Arm and tail bands added, as well as some additional details to her dress to make it look better. Adjusted the Plum-to-Red hair progression to be more plum than red because it looked better.

-INSPECTOR - Added an actual mouth and gave additional beef to his lower jaw, belt buckle now a ram skull, and the bottom of his jacket is now torn. Some slight adjustments to the feet, hands, and neck to look a little better. Eyebrows now ANGY.

--

Aaaaand that’s it! I can give some previews for the three I’ll be redoing and one I’ll be adding though...

-LUN TEMPEST NOBLESONG - Modified pose to fit better with his personality, adjusted weapon size to be larger, adjusted coat to be the correct length.

-SELGY STONEPELT - Redone pose completely to remove limp wrist wave, added detail to the belt/bracelets, added flowers to her tail to match her hair.

-IRINA - Lost her last name in the divorce from my old drive and in the process of getting a new one, redid pose to match the style of the rest of the refs. Added some detail to her corset and skirt, removed cloak, shoes now visible.

-LADY JOY - New addition now with two forms; Original and Dark Carnival. Original has additional alts of Masked and Full Uniform, as well as an added alternate of being in a clown-like outfit.

Enjoy trying to work out those details, future-me!