#but both of them would provide me the opportunity to do what I want- play w more masc glams

[entitled-fangirl]

Sparring.

Jasper Hale x vampire!reader

Summary: As Jasper teaches how to fight the newborns, the reader and Bella talk about her past.

Words: 1,551

Warning: vampire stuff, talk of death, cursing

Author's note: I can't tell if I love it or hate it but here you go anyway!

Masterlist <3

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The famous silver jeep of the Cullen’s pulled up as she watched Emmett be thrown into the dirt. 

The entire family turned as Edward and Bella stepped out of the car.

As they walk to the family, so do the wolves. 

Each vampire held to their mate as they watched said wolves come out from the tree line. Soft growls came from their snouts from the obvious smell of vampires.

Jasper held on to her as they did so, his arms around her waist, his chest providing support against her back. 

Edward stepped to Carlisle, “They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms.”

Carlisle nodded, “At least they came. That’s enough. Will you translate?”

Carlisle stepped towards the wolves, thanking them for coming before explaining that Jasper would be the teacher in this scenario.

Jasper’s loving mate smiled. She loved sparring as a family.

…

Some time passes and the girl now sits on the hood of the jeep next to Bella. She leans over, “I’ve always found this entertaining. Watching them,  I mean…”

Bella smiled as Emmett flew threw the air once again. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind me asking…?”

The girl nods, anticipating what the human could possibly think of to ask.

“Jasper knows a lot about this kind of thing… I mean… Why is that exactly..?”

His mate shifts slightly, not expecting that question. “Well, Bella. I don’t feel that I’m the one that should tell you. Perhaps you should ask him. It’s… a horrid story, honestly. I’m not sure he’d want it out there, you know?”

Bella nods, “yeah, right. I get it… sorry.”

The girl’s head perks up at the sound of her name being called by Carlisle. “Oh, shit. My turn to go. Watch me, Bells?”

Bella grins, “Of course.”

…

Jasper stood confidently on the dirt ground, his eyes trained on the person in front of him.

His pretty mate. 

She held the same look in her eyes. 

They had sparred many times before. And they were both quite good. He taught her practically everything he knows. 

The entire family gathered around to see how it would play out. Would they go easy on each other? Who would win?

It seemed the two held that look in their eyes as well as they tried to scope the other one’s thoughts.

Then he rushed her. 

They were both incredible to watch as if they were dancing. Their bodies seemed to always know what the other would do, even when changing their fighting style. It seemed the two lovers truly knew each other in and out. 

Eventually she slipped, and Jasper seized his opportunity, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. 

Pulled against his body, her face was mere inches from him. The tension between the two rose as his gaze fell to her lips. God, he couldn’t resist her even when he was pretending to be her enemy.

And she was no better.

She focused on the feeling of his strong grip, his sturdy fingers wrapped around her seemingly delicate wrist. 

If they were alone, this sparring match would have escalated, like it usually does when they are so. But today, they simply stared at each other. Those who didn’t know them would assume they were calculating what the other might do next, but no. This family knew them quite well. And thank god no one else had Jasper’s gift, or the tension would bring a blush to their cheeks.

She gently leaned forward, their lips brushing. Jasper tilted his head down to receive her soft lips. But they never came.

She swept his leg out from under him, pinning him to the ground as she placed a knee on his chest. 

She leaned down to his face, whispering softly in his ear, “What was that you said? Don’t get distracted?”

He smiled, letting his head fall back against the dirt. 

She would be the death of him. 

And he would love it.

…

The sparring continued the next day as she found herself sitting next to Bella on the hood of the car again.

She watched Jasper as he sparred with an admiring look in her eye. She loved the Major with all her heart. 

Or, what was left of it anyway.

If it still pumped blood, she would be able to feel it beat for him.

“Do you mind if I ask you another question? A different one, this time?”

The girl nods, “Yeah, don’t see why not.” 

Bella looks down at the dirt. “Can I ask what happened to you? How you… how you got here?”

She felt a breath come out of her unused lungs, “Oh. Yeah. ‘Course. It’s… not a pleasant story but any means… are you sure?”

The human nods, “Please. I’m trying to understand you guys better.”

The girl leans back slightly, regaining her bearings. “Alright. Well… I was born in 1941. I uh, grew up in the 50s. Not the best timing, obviously. Do you know much about the ’50’s, Bella?”

The human’s head tilts back and forth in thought, “A little. Civil rights and stuff..?”

“Yeah. Well, the Korean War was in the 50’s. There was this military guy that fell in love with me. And I to him. But… we, uh… how do I say this? He was… we were…?”

Bella leans forward, “…what? Just say it.”

“Well, we were different skin tones. And.. well, I don’t need to say much more. Anyway, there was this other man that decided he liked me. He was pigheaded and awful. I hated him. He tormented me everyday. I finally told him about the man that-“

“-what was his name?”

The girl’s head perked up, “Whose?”

Bella met her eyes, “…the one you loved.”

A deep sigh left the vampire’s lips, “…Johnathan.”

Bella nodded, leaning back again to let the girl continue her story.

“I told the man about… Johnathan and… the man began to tell everyone in town. It became the only thing anyone talked about until eventually…. Eventually...,” the girl’s voice faded out in thought. “…I’m sorry. I haven’t told this story in so long…”

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

“Thank you… uh… the man formed a mob and approached us in the park one day. Johnathan tried to protect me. And he did. Until they… killed him…” the girl stared at the ground, a somber look in her eyes. “…and the man ended up being a vampire… he changed me and… well… yeah.”

Bella nodded, “How did you find Carlisle?”

“Oh. Right. Uh, I was on the run… after I changed. I actually ran into him. Well, he ran into me. He…. He stood to where I would crash into him, so he could talk to me. He knew everything. He took me in. And I met Jasper…”

Her eyes wandered back to Jasper. His sleeves were pulled up, exposing the skin of his forearms, and the scars that resided there. He was so strong. So perfect. Her knight in shining armor. 

Bella noticed the girl’s longing gaze and smiled to herself. “…how did you know he was the one?”

The girl turned back to Bella, “Oh. You just know, Bella. It’s… ugh, it’s this feeling you get in your heart. Like you’ve finally taken a breath after being underwater for years. Like your souls have intertwined and have become one. It’s… strange to put into words…”

Bella nods, “It sounds wonderful.”

She nods too, “Oh, it is. Edward feels that way about you.”

Bella looks up in surprise, “Really?”

She smiles, “Yeah. He told me that the day he met you. Like he couldn’t think around you. You… occupy all of his thoughts. You fascinate him.”

The human grins, “And that’s how Jasper feels?”

“-How I feel about what?”

Jasper had walked up to the two, a grin on his face. He leaned against the car on his side, his arm resting over his girl’s leg. 

His mate smiled, “Perhaps it’s none of your business… girl things…”

Jasper scoffed, “Sure, darlin’. Anything you say.”

Her hand reached up to run it through his hair. 

The three sat in silence for a while before the girl broke it. “I need to go back to the house. Help me down, Jas?”

He stood, reaching his arms out, gripping her waist to help her down. She was vampire. She didn’t need help. And they both knew that. 

Bella scooted forward, “Wait, before you go…?”

The girl turned around in Jasper’s arms. “…Yeah?”

“What happened to him? …To the guy that…”

The girl’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Her head turned slightly to look at Jasper’s face that held the same knowing smirk of his own. “Well, Bella. He… got what he deserved…” 

And with that, she walked away. 

Bella gawked slightly, now focusing on Jasper, hoping he could illuminate on the situation. 

But he continued to grin, watching his girl walk away. 

Eventually, Jasper felt Bella’s confused emotion and turned to her. “I made a vow not to kill after I met her…”

Bella’s eyebrows knitted together, and Jasper’s smirk grew into a grin. 

“…But I fucking killed him.”

And with that, silence overtook the forest as he continued to watch his girl walk away.

.............................................................................

[seaseren]

Having trouble making a femhroth a vibe with but got some cc pics of the other options to just. sorta rotate for a while

Ok now that Chiaki is gonna take a break for a while for their mental health, trying to figure out who my next alt should be

1. Continue on Liamaine and try my best to conquer cringe

2. Make me learn how to tank with Alan de Gagnon!

3. Make the Sharlyans deal with Tha'li Rivers, fake Archon

4. Manny the loporitt in disguise! I could also go for the name Ven, from Adventuringway.

5. Make me learn how to tank with Eyrithota, the alt universe Entlona who has a different but no less potent set of emotional problems!

6. Make a femhroth I like and just vibe w em

[honeytonedhottie]

the art of conversation (from a professional yapper)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍉

just wanted to preface this by saying that NOT everyone is extremely sociable and thats totally okay. this post is to help improve ur conversational skills and charisma ✨

WHY LEARNING TO BE SOCIAL IS IMPORTANT ;

social skills are literally the FOUNDATION of effective communication. its important bcuz it allows u to build meaningful relationships, express urself, collaborate with others etc.

when ur learn how to be an effective communicator u can connect more deeply with the people around u. being more social can also provide u with opportunities, and in general make ur life SO much easier. not to mention u have a lot more fun.

SUPERIORITY/INFERIORITY COMPLEX ;

an inferiority complex is the feeling of inadequacy, an insecurity that ur not on the same level as someone else. a superiority complex is the opposite, u can come off as smug or condescending. both are bad in their own right.

the way that u can combat this is by adopting the mindset that you are neither below or above anyone else, and no one else is above or below you.

doing so can kind of even the playing field of conversation in ur mind and make sure that ur not feeling some kind of way before going into a conversation bcuz when u let ur superiority/inferiority complex go by un-fixed it can sabotage communication and not give ppl the change to get to know u.

UNLEARN SHAME ;

first u gotta start off with thinking about ways that shame has influenced ur thoughts or actions. an example that im sure a lot of us could relate to is the whole cringe concept.

to help unlearn shame i recommend journalling, therapy, and mindfulness so that then u can let urself ENJOY things again, without having the looming fear of the judgement of others.

also no genuinely happy person is going to take time out of their day to shame u, only a loser would do that. and if ur the one shaming others for liking something bcuz of ur own insecurity, get that fixed and get a life.

PREPPING FOR CONVERSATION ;

when approaching someone or starting conversation with someone for the first time, a rly good way to start it is with a compliment. dont start it by saying hi cuz i think thats so awkward 😭

compliment them for something, their response can also tell u a lot about them also bcuz some ppl will take the compliment well and some ppl will serve u a dirty look and that alone can tell u if u rly wanna be conversing with that person.

LEARN TO LAUGH ;

since we've already talked about why learning to not feel embarrassed about every little thing is important, here's what to do when something like that comes up. literally laugh.

for example the other day someone whom i've never spoken to before came up to me and started talking to me so familiarly, like with their arm around me and everything and i just went with it 💀 until he noticed that he had mistaked me for someone else, but its okay cuz now i have a new friend. LAUGH ABOUT IT.

dont take everything so seriously, being able to enjoy and take a joke is what makes conversation so much fun. note, do NOT mistake taking a joke as taking disrespect bcuz u should not take that, there is a distinct difference.

the biggest advice i can give as a yapper is to be more lighthearted and not take everything seriously. bcuz i feel like when we take everything so seriously we become rigid and thats not hot, be a breath of fresh air instead ✨

[biceratops7]

I’m gonna SCREAM-

We’ve already established as a fandom that Metatron could teach a masterclass on gas lighting, but I wanna talk about how he specifically validates the things Aziraphale cares for while simultaneously devaluing them under the surface.

First off, this moment?

Tells us everything we need to know. It sets the scene for exactly the games Metatron is playing. He makes Muriel feel important while openly insulting them (flat out calling them stupid), aka seamlessly reinforcing the idea that they’re less than to both them and anyone else in the room. He knows he can get away with this easily, he knows that Muriel, lonely, overlooked little Muriel, will be completely distracted by the fact that someone so important is taking an interest in them.

This is already horribly clever, but then later on you realize it’s doing even MORE heavy lifting when he appoints Muriel to run the bookshop. “See? What’s important to you is what’s important to me! I’ve graciously taken the time to ensure your beloved shop is looked after by Muriel. You know, the dim one!” …let’s suffice it to say he’s ensnared too birds with one net for this one, and that a pattern is already starting to arise.

So when Metatron says Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he’s a “natural leader” and “doesn’t just tell people what they wanna hear”? Yah he’s full of shit. Aziraphale struggles with his sense of purpose when he doesn’t have someone or something guiding him, and for thousands of years he’s been terrified of sharing his true feelings and opinions to 90% of people he’s known. Completely just trying to butter him up. Wanna know the real reason Gabriel seeks asylum with Aziraphale?

Exactly this. Gabriel just says so point blank. It’s not because Aziraphale is this person for him, it’s because despite knowing nothing, he has this instinct that Aziraphale is the only one who can possibly understand why Gabriel did what he did. He is, I mean as far as we know, the only other angel who has fallen in love. (In general, let alone with a demon.)

But nope, can’t have that. We can throw the promise of restoring Crowley in the mix to sweeten the pot, but we can’t acknowledge why he’d want that so badly in the first place. So now it’s cause they work so well together. We can praise the angel for the fallen archangel Gabriel himself coming to him protection and guidance, give him a gold star. But we couldn’t DARE imply that it was by virtue of Aziraphale’s courage to choose earthly love over heavenly. How Gabriel didn’t need a leader, but a friend who’s truly known the joys of adoring that “particular person” and the pain of needing to hide it.

Cause then Aziraphale would start getting crazy ideas, like that his silly little human feelings have a great deal of worth. That they have the power to inspire, form cracks in the institution, fundamentally weaken what has controlled and harmed him. We wouldn’t want him to know the true value of the cards he holds when he has the ace in a match against you, now would we? After all…

Metatron uses this ingeniously sinister tactic of taking away Aziraphale’s choice while giving the illusion that he’s actually opening up doors. Notice how he tells Aziraphale he would have the authority to do something as extraordinary as turn a demon into an angel, yet he never once puts the much simpler alternative of just working with a demon on the table? The sleight of hand here is that he’s being offered the opportunity to freely be with Crowley… but he’s already freely with him as is, no bargain to be made. In fact he fought to be. Metatron disappears this accomplishment right before our eyes, while seamlessly maintaining the illusion to Aziraphale that he (Zira) is in control.

He sets Aziraphale up for failure by only providing the option he knows Crowley will not only decline but be deeply hurt by. It’s all so cleverly planned. Once this plays out exactly how he wants, he delivers the finishing blow by diminishing Crowley and his “damned fool questions”. Suddenly doing a complete 180 and emphasizing how foolish and troublesome he is. Metatron was offering Crowley by Aziraphale’s side as The Carrot. Now he’s telling Aziraphale it was stupid of him to want The Carrot, un-heavenly.

Aziraphale’s life, love, happiness, it’s all not only a massive inconvenience for Metatron but a liability. He has successfully taken a weapon from Aziraphale’s hands he didn’t even know he had. Metatron sees the writing on the wall, and he wants it contained.

[yeyinde]

I am binge reading your work and I love your Price characterisation so much! Can you please go into detail what you his childhood looked like and what led him to be this angry, stubborn man who is fixated on saving the world at all costs

this is basically a reinterpretation of opening Pandora's box but instead of releasing great evils, it's just me yapping non-stop about John Price whenever i get the opportunity. but i cut a lot out because it was getting too long, so this is a brief summary on what made John Price the way that he is;

re: abuse (physical, mental, emotional; of authoritative power).

Nepo-baby. Born into Military Royalty. The Price name has a lot of sway in the government. Probably lived in Hereford going up before moving to Liverpool at 18. Realistically, Price has no other career choices because I can't see Mr "threatens to hang superior officers" sitting in a cubical and expected to hit quotas without catching several charges for assault and battery when his temper gets the best of him. And it always does.

His homelife was bad (but absolutely nothing compared to Simon's). His dad was just a staunch disciplinarian groomed by the traditional values of 40s-60s England. The typical "father works to provide for his family all day and then comes home to quiet, respectable children neither seen nor heard with food already on the table waiting for him and a wife that only speaks when spoken to and only ever to agree with her husband (and a lil bit of female "orgasm"????? by god! they've brought witchcraft back to the land of her Majesty the Queen!)"

He has an angry, uncompromising father with a temper and a mother who says thinks like, "well if *you* didn't make him angry, then you wouldn't have gotten yourself a black eye."

His dad was very physically abusive to both of them. Price really tried to stick up for his mum, but that would just set his dad off even more. And afterwards, his mum would just side with his dad, anyway. But on the flipside, I think she expected Price to protect her. So when he didn't (because he's a literal child!!), she'd get angry. But she obviously can't lash out like her husband or even her child, so uses the only weapon she has to gain some semblance of control: manipulation.

Price takes pieces of both his parents. His father, the physical aggressor, and his mother, the manipulative victim. And she is a victim, very much so. But I also think she pits them against each other. Gets bored. Causes issues. But there's power in getting someone to do what you want, and that's how she takes hers.

Price catches on to her in his early teens, but that's still his mother. Even though they have a very rocky relationship, she's still the Victim in his head, even when she's whispering in his dad's ear about all the things she despises about her son. And then going to Price (after his dad does something about it - again: disciplinarian, control freak) and playing the pitiful mother subjected to her husband's tyranny and a sad, weak son who can't do a single thing to protect her when she needs him.

Price learns to manipulate from her. Emotional blackmail. Victim-complex. Gaslighting. Scapegoating. But the biggest takeaway is the way he shifts the victim-complex into heroism (esp with Gaz). They can't be the bad guys. It's a logical fallacy in his mind. They're the ones saving the world, and if the world wasn't so riddled with bad guys, with people who need projecting, then they wouldn't need to do what they do.

I think Price has a bit of animosity towards people he sees as weaker (re: his mum having to share the victimhood with her son). But this animosity can also rear as obsession. He's the only person who can save you/them/the world. And since you/they/the world can't save yourself, then you should just listen to him.

And if you don't. Well, that's going to be a pretty big problem.

Honestly on the fence about siblings. If he has any, it's probably an older sister and she's either the equivalent of Janice Soprano (minus any of the backbone and ambition) or Barbara, resigned to her life and utterly forgetful. but I kinda like the idea of him not having any siblings to weather the storm with, you know? Like, it's just him and a mother who victim blames and ignores, and he gets the brunt of his dad's anger.

He was an obnoxious kid to be around. Probably really tried to impress his dad by adopting all of his values; baby misogyny, bite-sized authoritarianism, military fiscalism/military–industrial complex, militarism, etc., before realising (earlyyyyy teens) that he hates his dad and everything he stands for (but I'm a SUCKER for letting Price suffer and I love cyclicity and generational trauma so naturally, as much as he tries to run from the ghost of his dad, it still lingers - just in different ways; the worst thing you could ever say to Price is, you're just like your father).

Turned into a moody teen in the 80s/90s. His anger is a hair trigger. Utterly uncontrollable. But by this time, he learned to hide it because his dad's way of idealing with trauma was to add more. Therapists are pseudoscience, so he taught Price that men just bury these things. And if you can't, then you should be put down like a dog.

The assessment of a man's character was entirely based on the military tests he passed. And with Price's anger, trauma, he probably shouldn't have passed the evaluations, but since his dad, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, were all military dogs, he learned how to beat it. He's also really good at manipulating people.

I think between 16-17 there was a real attempt to do something that wasn't the military and I haven't decided which one I like better but:

He gets a job (as a port worker or in a factory). The Price name has no sway here (and baby Price grew up surrounded by people who knew his family, who revered them for their service to the country, etc). If he wants to make it, it has to be by his own merit. The problem is, while he's a hard worker, his trauma (men who remind him of his father, women who are too much like his mother) causes an incredible rift between him and authority.

If his boss is a man just like his dad, then Price is a match in a tinderbox.

If he isn't, to Price (who has only just learned to hold his tongue), the idea of a nobody being in a position of power over him will also set him off.

Either way, he's doomed.

If he man is a beast that no one can stand up to, and gets away with things because he's the boss, then Price's temper would flare pretty quickly. Especially if he comes after Price. Bullies him. Belittles him. But the worst is the humiliation. He ends up beating his boss very badly, terrifying the men around him but in their fear, and how quickly they listen to him because of it, Price realises he likes it. That fear can be weaponized. Honed.

Or: same situation, but if you lean more towards Price looking out for the underdog rather than his own self-interest, then he sticks up for someone and beats his boss to protect them. Everyone's still afraid of him, but they revere him. They do what he asks. This version, he realises that respect can be weaponized.

(and if the man is not like his dad, then Price will antagonise him into action. He'd throw the first punch, and Price will retaliate. It would still go too far, but - Nepo baby, weaponized fear: the outcome would be the same.)

He gets taken into custody. The tell him his boss is not going to make it. But Price's dad exercises every ounce of power to get his son out of trouble (because this will look very bad on them), and Price leans several things which shape him as an adult: his name has a lot of power; rules and regulations and just policing won't stop bad people unless you take it into your own hands once and for all, and people listen to him and that either version of the above can be weaponized.

He'd probably take the military a bit more seriously but only because he's trying to get vengeance for himself (even if this is subconscious and he doesn't realise it). He leaves at 18. Joins. And climbs the ranks higher than his dad.

At first, there's a concerted effort to do good but something cracks. Builds. Eventually Price comes to the conclusion that he'll have to take a more hands-on approach and get them a little bloody if he wants real change.

I have a lot of thoughts of military-dog Price. But!! That's basically it.

Shaped by physical, mental, emotional abuse; leans into the poor rich kid trope slightly. It all manifests more when he climbs the ranks, gets freedom, and realises that only he can do what needs to be done.

[writingoddess1125]

You get high with them- 🍃 🚬

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Luffy

You of course bought some edibles the last time you were on land. Now chilling jn bed you ate some and Luffy came in- Assuming the gummies were just normal candies he partook in some before you could give the warning.

He ate a easy 400mg and now is laying next to you as high as a kite. His gum gum abilities also being messed with by the edibles as he is quite literally dropping over the sides of the bed.

"My face feels heavy and fuzzy" He hums, blinking at you slowly.

You smile at him and giggled at his reactions.

"You're absolutely fucked up-"

He nods at this and just giggles as he lays there. Clearly a giggly high.

Sanji

You offer Sanji a bit from your joint while sitting in the kitchens. He accepts figuring it won't be that bad-

Sanji and you will talk with you for a while as you two shared the joint. When it hits him however- it hits him hard.

"This feels weird" He smirks at this and passes the joint back to you with a smirk. The man shows a whole new side of himself- were where he is just so chill and open! Super cool too.

"Yeah I do see Chef Zeff as my father. I'll never let him know since that would boost the old man's ego way to much- But I love the old guy"

Will come up with amazing cooking ideas and actually prepare them, often having music playing as he does so.

"(Y/N) I just got an amazing idea- what if I cake the creamy cheese sauce from the pasta and add it to ramen instead and top it with spicy seafood, a soft boiled egg and green onions. A cheesy spicy ramen"

Zoro

When you first offer to zoro he absolutely refuses- It isn't until a few weeks later when he sees you at it again does he agree. You make him a small joint to start out with and the two of you sit on the main deck under the stars and pass it back and forth.

He will start to get a bit chattier. Talking to you a bit more about random things- He smiles and giggles a bit more.

"This is a new experience for me- I usually don't want to dull my senses"

You take another kit and cough a bit, Waving the smoke.

"But you drink a fuck ton" You pass him back the joint and he nods.

"Touché"

Eventually however he gets sleepy, immediately turning into the sleepy high. Just laying on the deck half asleep and joining in humming a song with you.

Usopp

Truth be told- Usopp is the most open to the experience. He lies saying he does it before despite being fairly clean. However is interested in the opportunity!

Will be the one wanting to try a pipe- Which you will happily provide and the two of you will sit in the bottom haul of the ship and pass the pipe back and forth-

Usopp will actually start to yet honest with you- really really honest. It turning almost into a therapy session between the two of you.

"Man I really miss my Mum... she was just an amazing person and it makes me upset to think she only heard about how her son was a lying mess up instead lf someone great"

He admits, sadly looking at the pipe before taking another rip of the pipe.

"I'm sure she's proud of the man you are Usopp. You are a good guy and an amazing pirate" You praise, patting his shoulder.

He nods at this and smiles. Defiently a honest high Ironically.

Nami

Nami is no beginner- In her time away from Arlong she used to smoke to feel a bit of stress relief. So when you offer she comes prepared with her favorite bong.

Sitting together the two of you will talk for hours while taking massive hits of the bong. Eating snacks stolen from the kitchen as you play records.

"So- You think that Buggy can take off his dick?" You question watching Nami take another massive rip from the bong, holding it in for a good second as she nodded and releases the cloud of smoke.

"Abso-fucking-lutely he can. He said he would take every thing apart and I saw how small he had himself flying- There is no way he hasn't sent his cock through the air"

"Wait- so if every part... do you think Luffy can stretch his?"

You both burst out in hysterical laughter and continue to talk mindlessly. Nami is Defiently the social butterfly of highs, just laying out the best of conversations.

Buggy

You get caught by Buggy smoking at first- however he is fine with it and interested in what you could possibly be doing.

Buggy is more then willing to smoke with you, thinking this will be a fun experience for you all. It's an experience all right-

Let's say in stupid thoughts you guys get hotboxed in his bedroom. Buggy has his hair down and will be talking about random philosophy and sounding intelligent unlike his normal Goofy self.

"You know, I've always wondered how the system of devil fruits work?- if one can exist at a time say I die. Does that mean another Chop Chop fruit will appear? Who controls this?.. Does that mean a plant knows when I died?"

You nod at this, also curious of this question.

"You know, I never thought of that... wait wait- so Does that mean a plant is closer to a God then anything else if it knows when you die?"

You two will talk for hours about random questions, before stumbling to get some snacks in the middle of the night.

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.

Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.

You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.

It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.

“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.

You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.

She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.

“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”

And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting you and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.

Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.

You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.

Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.

So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.

No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.

While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.

Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.

The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.

Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.

“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.

You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.

Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,

“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.

“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.

You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.

“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.

“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”

“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.

“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.

Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.

“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”

You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”

Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.

“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.

“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.

“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off

“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.

“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.

You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.

Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.

In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.

“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.

A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.

“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”

“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.

“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”

Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.

You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.

The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.

You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.

“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.

“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.

“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.

“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.

She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.

“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”

You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.

Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.

[beemochi-art]

Kaaaahhh!! *falls & eats the curb and drops all of my chaos Terran doodles.* BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING I KNOW CARS ISN’T DREAMWORKS!! I already got erm actually-ed. Spitfire and Am my poor doomed kids.

For both their designs I took a lil spin on it. For Am this the way I like to draw him. He acts gross so now he can look gross. He also doesn’t look baby in the show so meh, No further comments.

For Spitfire I gave her features that make look stronger and meaner even tho she’s mostly supposed to look just like Twitch. To me there is no point in drawing her just like twitch because the evil twin thing can be ruled out because they are completely different colors and they also went with the body swap thing. So I think making her look stockier and emo is more fun. I should draw a side-by-side comparison sometime.

Spoiler S2 rant* I get a little bit into delulu land so bear with me.

Jokes aside. I liked the chaos Terrans and the way they were handled wasn’t right. I hope they are able to make a comeback In the future and get redeemed because they deserve it. I feel really bad for them. It’s like they were labeled as Chaos and not to be trusted from the beginning I don’t think anyone truly understood them. I get that the chaos Terrans had wronged the Malto’s multiple times from the start but I think the way they went about handling them was so laxed. They just let the decepticons have them so they could be further influenced into the wrong path. It’s like they were doomed from the start.

After all they were just kids. I’ve been labeled as the bad, dumb, asshole kid before. Most of my school days I was in special ED and I was also pretty high energy too. So I can relate, if you are already labeled as bad or dumb why try to be anything else? Or trying to be cool and hanging around the wrong crowd just to be taken advantage of in the end.

They weren’t completely chaos either. They listened to the Decepticons. Following orders till the very end, if they were chaotic like their name implying would they just not listen to anyone and do whatever they wanted without any care of anyone else? Here’s what I think. The chaos Terrans (mostly Spitfire.) we’re trying to impress what they perceived as the cooler badder bots. That’s some kid shit, most kids try to get in with the group of cool kids. Why not stay with the Maltos? Cause that’s not cool to them. Do you want to hang out with the teachers pet or steal and break shit.

In defense of Aftermath. He’s capable of playing nice, he’s not evil. Him and Jb had a relatively good day with each other. He didn’t out right attack on sight. I think he took the water cause he didn’t want to seem like a looser in his heavily flawed mindset. Am is more of an impediment of Chaos, he just smashes and breaks shit cause he can. Honestly I think if you him just take him to a rage room he’d be fine.

In defense of Spitfire (who is a wayy more complicated case.) She was literally born that morning how was she supposed to know not hurting humans was an autobot rule. I think deep down she was jealous of Twitch’s family and opportunities. She has a competitive spirit and I think she wanted that mission to impress the bigger bots (even if she was rude to them.) when she was in Twitch’s body and said things like Chaos Terrans are bad and not to be trusted I wound if she was projecting what she thought they were thinking about her already. When she was cast out and went with the decepticons was they don’t like me and they don’t like you either so I’ll just hang with you guys. With that being said she’s naive too (it’s fine BECAUSE SHES A KID.) see the way starscream tells her good job or touches her shoulder, she wants his approval and to make him just like all kids with their parents. And then when she is ultimately betrayed, she’s a deer in headlights, shocked and afraid, probably realizing that she provided the weapon needed to killer her and her brother. She looked up to Starscream. Showing her fear and shock by being betrayed like that really showed us that Spitfire is so much more than just a bad guy. It really made me sad when she was screaming and saying no, god she needed help.

None of the chaos Terrans had gotten the opportunity to really learn or get to find something they like to do. The other Terrans had plenty of time to think about an alt mode, learn lessons get nurtured and cared for. The chaos Terrans had to get their alt modes immediately both out of necessity. Most of the time Am was just wandering around bored, he wasn’t being nurtured or taught anything. The cons didn’t care about them at all, neither did the autobots or Maltos that much. 

Saying Chaos Terrans are going to chaos or decepticons are gonna do what they do. Is super incorrect. It’s just labeling and not expecting anything more from these individuals which goes against the entire point of season one.

HOLY CRAP IF YOU READ ALL THIS. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. Hopefully Some of this made sense.

[beartitled]

I think Normal Bill is almost just as intelligent and knowledgeable as his canon counterpart, since he had more time to focus on science and such instead of chaos and despair and.. just about every problem in the book.

Can he also still see through trees and The All Seeing Eye on the dollar bill?

Does he have all the powers of Canon Bill?

How does he feel about Ford and Dipper?

What would he think if he saw his parents?

And.. how does he feel about all the.. imagery of him throughout the world? (Remember how Ford had a fucking golden statue of him? And with the cave paintings.. and the dollar bill, the pyramids have a vague eye shape on them (since canonically they were statues of Bill until the top hat and hands fell off) The Eye Of Providence being a sign for God.. yeah it’s REALLY suspicious, I don’t think he really trusts the Pines family at this point, because they are horrible at hiding things, you don’t need to be an all seeing god to know that.

(Sorry for the long rant, I just love this AU)

Don’t apologise for a rant 🫵 I love rants, my brain just can’t comprehend them sometimes 💥

And also aww 🥹 glad you enjoy this AU ❤️

Okay lemme try answering 👏

First yes, absolutely, he’s a smart boi

His energy is just in the nerd stuff now, instead of chaotic insane vibes he has in the canon

Yea and I think he considers it normal lmao

“Wait what do you mean you don’t see through trees Mabel? Like.. I thought everyone did??”

He’s a smart boi, but he is oblivious in some instances

Not sure about all powers, but some for sure

Also this Bill walks everywhere, bc he never saw humans fly and didn’t consider trying (maybe he saw one human attempt it and decided to never try it himself 💀)

I honestly not really sure

Again not my initial idea, but remember one person saying that Bill would have some intrusive thoughts about Pines time to time, not understanding where they come from and probably feeling really guilty about those

But ultimately I think he would consider them a semi family to him

If y’all want a more detailed answer

He’s probably the closest to Mabel, bc she’s a forgiving person and treats Bill as a new person

This version of Bill would be in a girls squad and hang out with them during sleepovers (he’s a gossip girl come on 💅)

Dipper would still be cautious around Bill (as well as Ford), but would get used to him over time forming some sort of brotherly bond

Also Bill would ship Dipper and Pacifica, occasionally playing cupid for them during Dipper crushing on Wendy

He saw an opportunity to tease Dipper (and he said it would be a good enemies to lovers trope)

When people said “Stan would’ve taken that shot” yea, he would kill the child

But perhaps after seeing Mabel being buds with Bill, he just might be a little less defensive

It could both ways really: either Stan would be completely against Bill, but grow to tolerate his presence with occasional (semi)friendly bullying; or Stan would double down and just actively trying to kick Bill out

Either way they would have some sort of rivalry for sure

He would be buds with Soos and Wendy, just chilling with em on the occasion

And the last but not least Ford

He would be the most paranoid and cautious, not because he’s afraid of Bill like Dipper, but because Ford is afraid of “trigger the old Bill inside”

He and Dipper had an agreement to hide all possible information that could potentially remind Bill about his old self (all the Pines agreed to it too to some extent)

Were they successful in it? Who’s to say

Bill obliviousness saved em a bunch of times

And to address the elephant in the room: no, Billford does not exist in this AU

*booing can be heard across the fandom space* NO, YOU’RE NOT GETTING OLD MAN YAOI ON THIS ONE

🍅💥🐻‍❄️ *tiny bear screaming*

Anyway

I just don’t think it would be fitting in that particular scenario

Don’t get me wrong I like canon Billford (I love the memes and the fact that they are implied to be canon exes is hilarious), but canon Billford

This particular AU just makes the situation incredibly specific 💥

I tried to imagine a scenario where Billford could happen (like i dunno, they gave baby Bill to Oracle and then met his “normal” version)

But with the direction in which this AU went, I think it’s best to leave Ford and Bill with a platonic/parental relationship

To be fair it would be incredibly weird to raise your ex in a baby form 😭💥

But I never actually considered to continue this AU originally, so um 💥💥

I think Ford would just eventually start treating Bill like Mabel: he’s a new person now and to keep that new person undamaged, you need to keep a lot of information hidden (for everyone’s and Bill’s own sake)

This version of Bill and Ford would get along, bc they would both be nerds

(btw Bill’s design is similar to Ford, bc this is how nerds look 🤓💅/silly) (but you can adapt it in a way that Ford just had an influence on Bill, they have a family nerd look™️)

I’m still not sure what kind of time paradox shenanigans the went through to raise Bill tho 💥

This

Honestly I think it would be hilarious if he just thought it was some different guy

“A triangle… with one eye… what if.. naaaah I don’t have a top-hat”

Anyway thank u for the ask ❤️ hope it was fun to read through💥

[hitomisuzuya]

Self aware! Aventurine x fem!reader. Yandere! Aventurine cause why not. Something for giggles at the end.

No smut guys. This is just me being silly, and self indulgent cause Aventurine evaded me. It stings, ngl so this is more to make myself feel better😂 Pay zero attention to this nonsense omg 😂

Aventurine could instantly feel the sadness caused by the crushing weight of life through your hands the moment you played his character demo. He knew what that was like, so to be nice and so you could shut your brain off for awhile, no damage was taken at all from enemies.

Oh, but what's this? You started playing this game just for him. There were 5 days left for him to "come home", but sweetheart, it was an unrealistic gamble. You were still very wet behind the ears. Trailblaze level 39 and barely even aware of your own abilities to play the game.

Aventurine could definitely feel how scared you were observing you struggle and ultimately triumph over certain tasks once you got a feel for it down. It took you a lot of nerve to even play. He would hear you think, "I hate messing up and not doing things right the first time."

Dedication squeezed at your heart. Made you lose sleep. Dedication all for him.

Please quiet your pounding heart, darling. You have a better grasp than you think. It was quite frankly amazing to see.

It was both amusing and endearing to see you soak up information like a sponge. Only to have you try and pull when you had a comfortable amount of currency.

As the days went by, and your time window got closer to slamming shut until the next opportunity, he supposed that it was a good thing Dr. Ratio was helping you out.

Supposed, anyways

You were starting to cheer for Ratio when he started to crit high. That was starting to irk him, but the rush of fulfillment he felt through you when you cleared something made it worth it.

After all, you were doing all this for him. Aventurine was only able to feel your emotions because he is was always on your mind every second you played. Even after logging off.

You are his, damn it. That was that. There really wasn't anyone else you needed. He craved to spoil you.

Of course, he had his own ways of keeping tabs on you. Dr. Ratio was starting to be more use to him that he thought.

Aventurine truly hated shutting you down, especially when he felt your heart sting and a few tears well into your eyes. You held your head high and soldiered right on, brushing them away from your eyes with your delicate hand before they even fell.

He wanted you flourish first. He wanted you to have 10000% confidence. He knew he could've just come home and did everything for you, but he wanted to fight by your side as well as fight for you. He wanted you set up the party with him in it and think with a smile, "I can do this. I know I am capable. And I have you, Aventurine. Nothing can go wrong."

It was a pleasure for him to watch you. Especially in the Simulated Universe, and the Critter Pick quest. How you smiled and giggled at the cat cakes. You cooed at them. Even lamented about not having something like them in another game.

When that time finally came, and it would, don't you worry your pretty little head. He already knew your dedication level was incredibly high, and there would be extra insurance provided by both you and him.

Aventurine realized that you were irrevocably, totally, and completely dizzy in love with him. The words in your head exactly. They made his heart skip beats.

When he realized he was in love with you, it was during the end of Critter Pick mission. It snuck up on him, and slapped him hard in the face. It was when you were facing down the Swarm for the final Curio.

You loathed The Juvenile Sting and Lesser Sting from the Swarm in particular. You'd retreated over and over, getting intimidated when they multiplied. Until one night, you'd narrowed your eyes in determination and said, "Okay, you fucking bugs. Let's go. I won't be bullied by you today. I will do this for the sake of the cat cakes."

You dug your heels in, and didn't run. You wanted to do many times. You were already terribly fragile with your confidence to begin with. He watched you so close, and the surge of pride he felt when he saw you refused to yield in the end was undescribable.

"That's my girl," He'd murmured when the final bug exploded. Ratio may have taken care of you, and he was glad for that. Aventurine knew he would've been better for you.

Until that day when he could come for you, darling, he was still going to be there. Hovering patiently unseen. Maybe your shields around your characters would last a little longer in tight spots. Maybe a mysterious extra skill point would appear that you thought you didn't have. Maybe, just for you, Ratio would have an extra follow up attack.

And okay maybe sometimes when you had to pause battle for whatever reason, Ratio would get downed mysteriously now and then. He really, really was starting to hate that you relied on him so much.

Aventurine sought out a certain master hacker to put traces on your phone. That would was the only way to keep you close off game. Perhaps he would find a way to just come to you. And poof, you would disappear from your world and go with him.

He felt much better knowing where you were, and what you were doing when he so desired. He lived for when he could hear you say his name outloud. It sounded so sweet to him to even hear you think it.

It was ideal, really.

And just who was Scaramouche anyways? He was immediately shut down with such a spine chilling shock when he tried to investigate.

[airas-story]

Kinder Worlds

“So,” Tony started as Nebula as carefully lined up her next shot. They’d played in silence thus far since Nebula had shown up out of the blue and demanded a game. “Something wrong?” he asked. “You normally don’t just show up.”

“Do you think I can see this Terra?” she asked, instead of responding to his question. “You spoke of ‘hamburgers’ I would like to try them.”

Tony considered her, then decided not to push. He grinned. “Oh, we can try all sorts of things. I’ve got a photostatic veil if you want to go out in stealth mode—“ He’d told her the first time she showed up that she was fine, but she seemed to like ‘stealth mode’. “—though if you want to go as you are, that’s fine.” Most people had gotten used to aliens, the few that hadn’t—Ross came to mind—Tony could handle. “Or we can order in. Whatever you want.”

Nebula gave this her standard due consideration. “I would like to go out,” she decided. “And I will wear the veil. Stealth is imperative; I would prefer people to underestimate me.” She paused. “Perhaps we can visit your spider child. Or your wizard.”

Tony considered that. It was a Saturday, which meant no school. “Peter will definitely join,” he told her. “Picnic in Central Park with hamburgers with you? Yeah, there’ll be no keeping him away. Stephen… Hit or miss if he’ll join.”

Stephen was, unfortunately, almost always busy with something, it could make it difficult to meet up with him, though Tony still thought that every opportunity was worth it. Especially after things had… developed between them in ways Tony would never have expected.

He pulled out his phone and sent out a text to ‘Team Titan’—or at least that was what Peter had named them—to invite them both.

From: Tony Stark

Picnic at Central Park! Nebula’s here!

I’ll provide the food—prepare for burgers.

He shifted so that he could take a selfie of the both of them—something Nebula put up with with a sigh—before sending that along as well.

From: Spiderling

Oh my word! Are we finally introducing Nebula to hamburgers?

Peter always had been quick on the uptake.

I’ll be there!

“That’s Peter decided,” Tony said cheerfully. Who knows if we’ll hear from—“

From: Merlin

I would appreciate far more warning for something of this nature.

I am not at your beck and call.

Tony rolled his eyes. Picnics were always best when they were spontaneous, everyone knew that. Or at least every picnic he’d ever been on had been of the ‘you know what, I want a picnic’ variety and the majority of them had been enjoyable.

Though there had been that time with the ant invasion… he shuddered. Not to be repeated.

And of course, a few had involved drinking and he honestly didn’t remember them, but he was sure they’d been great.

Alas, the difficulty of being sober, that wasn’t an option anymore.

From: Tony Stark

Oh please. Not like I knew Nebula was coming.

Where’s your spontaneity, Stephen?

“All right,” Tony said, standing up. “Let’s get you set to go and then we’ll go get us burgers and other delicious food so you can experience a proper Terran picnic.”

Nebula nodded, satisfied.

His phone dinged.

From: Merlin

I suppose—since Nebula is present—I can condescend to join you for a ‘picnic’.

Tony snorted.

From: Tony Stark

Please, don’t pretend you don’t like me and Peter. We’re absolutely in your top five people.

From: Spiderling

Top four!

Can we get ice cream?

Tony glanced up at Nebula. “How do you feel about ice cream on this spontaneous picnic?”

“I was partial to your ‘Stark Raving Hazelnuts’,” she told him seriously. “I would not mind if we were to indulge in some.”

Tony grinned at her. He still wasn’t entirely certain whether she really liked Stark Raving Hazelnuts, or if it was because she felt that choosing Stark Raving Hazelnuts was a sign of loyalty—and Nebula was nothing if not loyal—and refused to try anything else. “Stark Raving Hazelnuts it is.” And he supposed he could pick up some Hunka Hulk of Burning Fudge for Stephen’s sake.

The traitor.

They got Nebula suited up in a photostatic mask and glove set before heading out. The drive from the compound to the city wasn’t too long and Nebula spent most of the time factually relaying her adventures since the last time she had visited and texting with Stephen and Peter on his phone to finalize their plans.

They made several stops to gather the requisite food before Tony took them to Central Park.

Both Peter and Stephen were already there sitting on a blanket that Peter had brought, when he and Nebula arrived at the spot they’d ended up agreeing to.

Peter proved his priorities by grabbing the bags of food and setting it on the blanket, plopping down and immediately starting to divvy up the food. 

Tony rolled his eyes while Stephen stood, stepping close and pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. Nebula and Peter made a simultaneous disgusted noise as though he and Stephen had started making out in front of them. Tony considered flipping them off, but then decided it was probably not a good idea to set a bad example for Peter and the gesture would be lost on Nebula anyways.

He stepped away from Stephen and grinned up at his sort of, kind of boyfriend.

Stephen smiled back at him.

“Food,” Peter called out, interrupting the moment. “And I’m starving, so if you don’t sit down and eat I’m stealing your food too.”

“I brought enough for even you,” Tony said. Still, he and Stephen both sat down and grabbed their plates and hamburgers.

Tony looked around at the group and their spontaneous picnic, Peter hoarding the food, Nebula examining everything with her careful scrutinization, Stephen sending a knowing smile in his direction.

Huh.

Kinda perfect.

[geekforhorror]

giving ani road head 🏃🏼‍♀️

sweet like candy

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), switch!anakin, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, orgasm, slight cum play (?), bossy anakin, fluff at end.

Never in a million years would you have thought you would be in this situation. In a speeder giving Anakin a blowjob. Sure, you guys had done plenty of other stuff together, but not this. This was completely new territory for you. The night had started off with the two of you going to a gala, but over time, you guys had gotten bored and… desperate. The invite was a nice gesture of the Order, but both of you couldn’t really care when all you guys could think about was feeling the warmth of each others body. And that’s exactly what was happening right now.

Anakin had parked his speeder in a rather secluded area, which had come in handy for this very moment. Here you were, sucking away at his cock for the past few minutes, both of you reduced to a sweaty mess.

“Fuck angel, just like that…” he pants as you hollow your cheeks around the base of his cock that was already coated with precum. You continue what you do best, but this time, you swirl your skilled tongue on his aching tip, which only provides a stronger sensation for him.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says while looking down at your fucked out state. You looked angelic in this moment. Your pupils were currently blown out in a sense that they had a doe look to them and your chin was covered in drool and his precum. You’ve never looked better to him. Anakin can’t help but wonder what you would look like while your hair was being tugged that way your mouth could sink lower onto his dick. Only one way to find out.

Anakin finally grabs a fistful of your hair before shoving your head lower, now taking all of him. Your gag reflex kicks in and he notices your throat threatening to choke on his fat cock.

“Come on baby, I know you can take more. Be a good girl and give me what I want,” he orders. You nod your head at his demand and behave. Your mouth is now the fullest it’s ever been and you fucking love it. You purse your lips around him before placing your hands on knees for support while sucking away at him.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos.

Fuck. That voice of his is going to be the death of you.

You take that as an opportunity to show him just how much of a good girl you can be for him. You hastily start to bob your head back and forth while he’s still in the back of your uvula. This makes Anakin hit his head on the plush leather of his seat, now moaning louder than ever. You made him lose his self control and you took pride in it. Both of you know someone could walk by any instant, but that’s what provided the thrill.

Anakin starts to feel the hot coil form in his abdomen and he knew what was about to happen. And so did you when you felt him twitch in your sore mouth. All you wanted was to make him feel good.

“Kriff…I’m going to cum…” he trails off. You finally suction him even rougher with all your might and before either of you know it, he comes undone in your trained mouth, shooting hot ropes of his salty seed down your throat. You graciously swallow all of it without being asked, which stings for him since he was still so sensitive. With your hand, you wipe off the excess fluids that were plastered on the crevices of your lips and chin.

“That was fucking…wow…” he says while pulling his boxers and pants up.

“I could say the same,” you say before kissing him passionately straight on the lips. His lips are molded to yours in an instant and it’s the best feeling in the world. After a few seconds, he brings his fingers to your chin before pulling your face away.

“Missed a spot… tastes so sweet,” he says, before wiping away the drop of cum you had missed.

“I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”

tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight--raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022

[unveiling-unguarding]

Let's fix the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard pt. 1 - Prologue

I have spent the last week-ish just stewing and thinking about all the things that bugged me about Veilguard's story. Things I knew would bug me going in, having seen the gameplay reveal of the intro mission, but thought would fade as the game got over the hump of an awkward start. Nope.

This game, unfortunately, has such massive structural problems that I need to try to rework the basic skeleton of the narrative for my own sanity. So while my first instinct would quite frankly be to scrap the whole premise of what we got, I'll stick to doing some amateur developmental editing.

First things first, Bioware seems to not understand why people have wanted origins back in Dragon Age and are content to give lip service to various backstories without implementing the real reason people loved them - they mattered narratively, were intrinsic to the plot and various subplots, and provided solid character motivation at the very beginning of the story. For example, the human noble origin starts your warden's story off with the betrayal and murder of your parents at the hands of supposed close friend Arl Howe. So now you have very personal motivations to leave your home, become a Grey Warden, and be an active participant in the political landscape of Ferelden. Same goes for each of the origins you can play, each of which introduces the player to subcultures and subplots important to the setting.

Like Veilguard, Inquisition didn't do well with this, but it was fine since the real narrative hook for why the player's character becomes the protagonist is them gaining the anchor and stepping out of the fade in the wake of a world-altering calamity under uncertain circumstances. And most importantly, the game allows you to roleplay how your character feels about the whole thing. Rook, on the other hand (heh), is a character who only gets a short paragraph, functionally identical no matter the faction, about pissing off their higher ups before being recruited by Varric. Supposedly, Rook travels with Varric and Harding for the better part of a year before the game takes place, a timeframe we only learn a couple hours into the game.

This is all coupled with some painterly cutscenes where Varric gives us the lowdown on Solas and his plans. Which is fine, but does the bare minimum and gives our player character no personal stake in the story. We are left to infer our pre existing relationship with Varric (and Harding) and our Rook's reasons for stopping Solas. You can kind of define those reasons later on, but they are rather shallow and the game does not give them their due emphasis. Not to mention this comes at a point in the story I'd argue is way too late.

What should have happened to start the game was a mission that allows us to both define Rook's relationship with Varric and their stake in the story. You could conceivably come up with any number of specifics for this prologue mission, so I'll forgo getting too into the weeds, except to say that it should in some capacity involve Solas' agents that were seen and hinted at during Trespasser. Since the game insists on allowing Rook to be from one of six factions (a seeming holdover from the pivot away from a live service model for the game), the game should start off with a mission about narrowing Solas' ritual location down. Allow us to banter with Varric about the months leading up to that moment. Allow us to elucidate our feelings on what Solas plans and our taking leave from our faction. This would provide a great opportunity for have race or faction reactivity upon learning he was last seen in Minrathous, whether you're an elf or qunari hesitant to go to place that is generally hostile toward people like you or a shadow dragon eager to return home.

This would be a perfect lead in to contacting Neve Gallus for help and the existing opening mission, if you absolutely have to keep it in the game. I am still annoyed about John Epler stating that they wanted the beginning of this game to feel like the ending of a previous game. Why? That's the opposite of how a story should start. A story should start at the beginning, especially when one of their stated goals was to onboard new players to Dragon Age. It hamstrung them into leaving our main character's connection to Varric and the plot nebulous and undefined while they felt the need to shove in extremely awkward and on the nose exposition to tell the player about the veil, Solas, and ancient Elvhenan. Let the beginning of your story breathe, goddamn it.

Next up we'll talk about how the story handles Varric and why it's such a stupid fucking plot twist.

[cavillscurls]

Hi! I am craving some soft and fluffy Joel content so may I suggest

Reader playing with grumpy Joel’s hair until to calms him down then maybe he falls asleep? (He will never admit it because THE Joel Miller having a weak spot? Scary and always scolding Joel loves head scratches? Like some puppies? NO NEVER) (But seriously he loves it)

oh nonnie, how did you know i was on a fluffy kick? this is perfection and absolutely canon.

══════════════════════

Lover Man

Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Established relationship. Jackson era. Sexual references. Brief mentioning of trauma. Brain rotting fluff. Soft Joel. Grumpy Joel.

Word Count: 600

══════════════════════

Joel Miller was a giver by nature, especially when it came to your moments of intimacy.

He gave you pleasure. He gave you security. He gave you love. What he often could not convey through words, he showed with actions. It took a bit of getting use to, but once you realized it was the way he showed his affection, you were overjoyed at just how much attentiveness he provided you.

Joel Miller was also incredibly stubborn.

God forbid you wanted to give him a taste of getting taken care of. Joel may have sported a tough, sullen exterior, but the truth was, he was tender at the core. It just took a little coaxing for you to see it.

Like now, while you basked in the heat and comfort of one another, the Sunday afternoon sun sprinkling through the half cracked blinds. You laid on your back, splayed back against your shared mattress in the quaint Jackson home. Joel’s torso was wedged between your legs, his burly arms encased around your waist, and his head rested between your breasts, naked skin on skin.

It had been a good ten minutes since you both shared in the bliss of each others highs, but you didn’t have the energy to move. Indulging in one another in the comfortable silence, finding your breath again. The weight of him was soothing and all encompassing, which made it impossible for you to not wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand mindlessly tracing the space between his shoulder blades while the other gradually weaved up into his tousled curls.

You toyed gently with the strands of hair, grazing your nails against his scalp. You sighed contentedly, letting your eyes flutter shut until you felt a slight resistance between your fingers, squinting your eyes open to see him trying to pull himself away from your chest.

You didn’t oblige, tightening your hold on his hair and gingerly pushing him back against your breasts. You heard him grunt.

“What?” you pressed softly.

“You ain’t gotta do all that,” he mumbled, damp lips tickling your skin.

Your eyes popped open then, tilting your chin down to observe him with crinkled brows. His eyes were wide open, staring off into the room with a tense countenance. His shoulders stiffened under your touch.

“Do what?” you inquired, deepening the pressure of your fingers in hopes of loosening the perpetually tight muscles. “I love touching you like this. You just never let me.” Usually because he was too busy pampering you, so when he laid down on you ten minutes ago, you wasted no time jumping on the opportunity to return the favor.

He muttered something incoherent then, likely a complaint, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Would you just relax?” you urged, keeping a soft and inviting tone. “Please? Just let me love on ya.”

Joel sighed deeply then, and after a moment, you felt him return the entirety of his weight onto you, forcing his eyes shut and a smile onto your face. He grunted a fine, and you returned your fingers back to work, combing them through his soft locks, caressing over his temples and forehead.

It took all of five minutes before he was humming a low strum, once erratic breaths becoming deep, steady exhales. Dreams were not always a safe place for Joel, but in the recent months together, you noticed a decrease in the nightmarish behavior. And that night, with your delicate hands painting soft pictures on his skin and through his hair, he slept. Quiet, still, and blissfully in love.

tag list: @casa-boiardi @dinsdjrn @scarletsloveletter @subconsciouscollapse @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy @whichwitchwanda @prettyangelsthings @nostalxgic @aphterthoughtt @drewharrisonwriter @scroogles @ilovepedro @rosaliedepp @gintheginger @escapingjunex @lizlil @sanscas @fifia-writes @evylzzz @koshkaj-blog @mxtokko @pedrosaidsheispunk @dins-riduur-anthe @sakuralikestars @spookyprofessorknightflap @therealmrspascal @princessloveweird @pedritosdarling @suzmagine @rainbowcosmicchaos @aliengirl99

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: Deal Makers

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 3629, Cw: violence, blood, death, attempted assault, cursing]

——————

The sounds of Pentagram City, gunshots, screams, and explosions, were a vague drone from within your home. Alastor was perusing the newspaper while you looked over the selection on the bookshelf. You’d read all the books at least once. Many were worn from being read multiple times over the decades. None of them was immediately appealing though.

You heard the crackle of radio static as your husband noticed your hesitation. The lanky demon set aside the paper to focus on you. “Trouble deciding my dear?” he asked, the hint of amusement in his voice telling you he had thought of something interesting.

You looked over at him, relaxing at the breakfast table. “Just a bit bored darling. Anything in the news I should know?” You poured yourself some coffee before sitting across from him.

“Hmm, nothing unusual. The rabble securing space before Extermination Day.” The yearly event was roughly a month away and demons were stepping up their preparations. It was similar to humans boarding up their homes before an incoming hurricane. You couldn’t stop the force of nature (or Heaven), you had to try to weather through it. “I’ll admit I’m feeling some ennui myself.” He sipped his coffee before continuing.

“Although…I did have a thought for some entertainment, cher,” he mused, his smile becoming more of a smirk as he raised an eyebrow temptingly.

“Really? Do share Alastor, don’t leave me in suspense.” You leaned forward, both elbows on the table as you cupped your mug in both hands.

His grin widened. “We know how desperate demons get around now, yes? Souls are easy pickings. So, let’s play a game my dear Y/N.” Your eyes brightened at the prospect and you could feel your wings rustling in anticipation. He continued, “Let’s have a contest between the two of us, cher. Who can acquire the most souls before Extermination Day? The one who loses…” he glanced around your home, trying to think of a consequence.

“The one with fewer new souls does all the dishes for a month. By hand,” you suggested. Neither of you enjoyed washing dishes and being able to use your wind or his shadow tentacles made the chore moderately tolerable.

The two of you had played other games and contests in your afterlife. The stakes for losing were ultimately low between you. You were partners after all. Trapping one’s partner in a deal had no appeal to yourself or Alastor.

Deal making with any other demon? That was entertainment.

“Excellent!” His ears perked up and his antlers stretched slightly as he agreed. This would be a perfect way to alleviate your boredom.

An hour later, the two of you strolled together to a plaza in your shared territory. Alastor took your hand and pressed your talons to his lips. “Bonne chance, cher.”

You used a bit of wind to raise you up so you could easily give him a peck on the cheek. “May the best Overlord win.” You backed up enough not to knock him over with your downdraft and took to the sky. Alastor twirled his cane and strolled off in another direction, humming in amusement.

It was times like this that you missed Husk’s casino. It had been an easy hunting ground. You tend to ensnare souls over time. Offer something small that they desperately wanted. Again and again, building up favors with the other demon. Eventually the favors could only be paid with their soul. Or if they had managed to keep their debt to you to a minimum, they would come to a point where what they wanted wasn’t something small. And if you could provide multiple small deals, surely you could make a substantial deal with them, even if it meant their soul.

The casino had been perfect for that, giving you ample opportunity to tempt Sinners with enough cash for another hand or another roll of the dice. And they always came back for more. A favor to a delicate little thing like you was essentially free.

Until it wasn’t.

But sadly, Alastor owned Husk now and his casino was safely tucked away amid dozens of other strongholds of former Overlords. So you had to find other places to play the game.

Of course there were other places to gamble in Hell. But you didn’t have the same understanding with the proprietors; waltzing in to offer collateral to desperate patrons wasn’t encouraged. Bars and drug dens had just as many degenerate souls craving funds you could offer.

At the moment however, the whole city was clawing to avoid Extermination Day. Being out on the streets was second suicide. If you couldn’t secure a hiding place on your own, working for someone who could provide one was the best option. Protection was worth more than money for the majority.

While Alastor looked like a powerful Overlord, you weren’t immediately intimidating. Sometimes you wished you were of a similar mold to Carmilla or Zeezi. Few doubted them, their presence was so powerful. You were what you were however. You hadn’t let your form stop you yet.

Landing in a distant section of the pentagram, you kept your eyes and ears open for potential opportunities as you walked. Sure enough, you found a perfect chance. And it reminded you of how you met Alastor.

A much more run down neighborhood than you frequented, the Sinners here had no issue with committing atrocities in the streets. Case in point; a trio of demons cornered a much smaller one. “You don’t wanna be all alone on Extermination Day, do you babe?” one of them said. He looked like a skeleton held together by acidic gel. One bony hand was pressed against the wall, cutting off the small cat-like demon’s escape.

The cornered demon shook his head mutely, his eyes pinning in fear. One of the other Sinners, this one a blue and orange cyclops, spotted you. “Whatcha looking at birdie? You can come along too, you’re cute enough.” The third demon moved to grab your arm in a lizard claw. His yellowed scales gleamed as he swung you up to the wall.

You could have broken away, but where was the fun in that? Besides, this was an opportunity to establish yourself in this area.

“Oooo, two for one special. C’mon bitches, we’ll keep you nice and safe from the big bad angels. All you gotta do is work for us.” The skeleton grinned, a green haze leaking between his teeth. “Couple cuties like you, we’ll make you bigger stars than that spider twink.”

The demon next to you shrank into himself, unconsciously hiding behind your wing. You put on a concerned air. “Oh mais la cher, I don’t think you can keep yourselves safe. You all look rather…what’s the word…pathetic, that’s it!” The cat demon looked at you like you were insane.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“I said you all looked pathetic. Weak? Unable to perform? I can go on.” The skeleton pulled back his arm to slap you. Or he tried. The instant he moved, you produced a stiletto that you jammed into his throat. He stumbled back, blade dislodging, with green fluid bubbling out from this mouth and neck wound.

“Bones!” the cyclops yelped as the gel melted away from the demon. That was his name?! You felt more than justified removing such a cliche punk from the afterlife. Before he could do more than yell, you thrust the blade into his giant orange eye. It was a much more convenient target than the man you first killed decades ago. Retinal fluid gushed out as he screamed, flailing at the stiletto.

The lizard demon backed away. “Fuck this shit!” He skittered away on all fours, disappearing into the sparse crowd. You let him go. Dead demons told no tales after all. If you wanted demons looking to you for protection, then you needed tales to spread.

Your talons had fluid splashed all over. “Ew,” you said mildly. The gore didn’t scare you, you’d gotten over that fear in life. But that didn’t mean you enjoyed being covered in it. You flicked your hands back and forth, a bit of wind helping to get the worst off and dry your hands.

The cyclops continued to moan in pain next to the pile of bones that was his buddy. You delicately sidestepped around him, avoiding the splatter of blood and fluid he was making as he thrashed around. “W-w-wait! Wait wait please!” came a shaky call from behind you.

You couldn’t help but grin before twirling around. The cat demon had stumbled forward, reaching for you. “You…you saved me.”

“I suppose I did. You’re welcome, cher,” you said in an airy tone as you started to move away.

“No, please! Help me! I’m not gonna make it through Extermination Day, please I’ll do anything!” he called, fear mixing with hope in his voice. Apparently he was having a very bad time in Hell and saw you as a lifeline.

“Anything? That’s quite a lot to offer to a demon you just met.” You faced him fully. Drawn by the cyclop’s cries and the sense of drama, a small crowd started to gather. “What’s your name?”

“André.”

“Y/N, the Singing Shrike.” There was a murmur in the crowd as some recognized your name. “If you’re willing to offer anything to an Overlord, then I’m willing to make a deal. My protection for your soul.” You held out your hand, still stained with retinal fluid and now emitting a silver light. “Do we have a deal?”

André’s ears flattened as he looked back and forth between your hand and the two demons, one dead and one dying, at your feet. “It’s a deal.” He clasped your hand firmly with his paw. There was a swirl of wind around you both that formed into a collar and chain on your new subordinate’s neck. It was only visible for a second. That’s one, you thought in satisfaction.

“Wonderful!” you chirped, clapping your hands once. “It’s always a delight to form new bonds, is it not? Now then, I’m feeling a bit parched. Let’s find something to drink while we discuss your future André.”

The reality of what he’d just done seemed to be sinking in, but he followed you anyway. It took a couple of blocks of walking before you found a decent looking coffee shop. You ordered two coffees, settled at an outdoor table and gestured at André to sit with you. The coffee was decent and you sipped the hot liquid before focusing on the cat demon.

“Now then. I’m sure you didn’t wake up this morning planning to sell your soul. You’re welcome to live and work wherever you like, so long as you understand that when I call you, you will be there. Follow my orders and we’ll get along fine. Now, what are your skills?”

It turned out he was a stage actor. He’d only been in Hell for a year and a half. The prospect of trying to survive Extermination Days every year made him a literal scaredy cat. Finding out he was an actor was a bonus. “That is perfect. Most of my followers are performers, you’ll fit right in, cher.” You penned an address on a card. “One of the theaters in my district. They’re auditioning after Extermination Day. I can set you up in our territory or you can keep staying where you are. Either way, I’ll call you on the Day to hold up my end of the deal.”

With that you sent him on his way; he said he’d take a look at your territory before deciding. Now you could drink your coffee and wait.

Before long, a female Sinner that had been in the crowd approached you. She looked like a luna moth, soft fluff and light green wings. “Miss Y/N? Are… are you… willing to make other deals?”

“Depending on the terms and the demon. Take a seat, cher, let’s talk.”

By the end of the day, you had five more souls in addition to André. The area you had come to wasn’t currently in dispute, but whoever was in charge was not doing a great job of maintaining any kind of order. So a decent handful were looking for someone, anyone, that could offer more security.

You were back home before Alastor and decided to start preparing dinner. Shrimp and grits sounded perfect after a day of negotiations. Alastor seemed to agree when he arrived. Over dinner the two of you compared your days.

Unsurprisingly, he had a slight number advantage already. But the game had just started and you weren’t about to concede to a mere three soul lead. He’d made a deal with a demon struggling to maintain a few blocks of territory. Once Alastor had the leader on a leash, the few souls he’d owned became Alastor’s as well.

For his part, your husband was thrilled at your disposal of two lowlifes and the lure you’d set in that area. “You’ve come a long way from a singer with a hat pin my dear.”

“So have you darling, from a radio host stalking the night with a knife.”

The month passed. Some days you returned to where you acquired André. Word had spread and other Sinners looking to avoid a second death came to offer their souls for safety. Other days you did offer small deals in other areas, building up to gaining a soul.

Some of your new demons spread word to their friends. And others heard of you from the lizard demon you let escape. Including the wannabe ruler of the neighborhood you were siphoning souls from.

There was a week left before Extermination Day and the end of your contest with Alastor. You had returned to the coffee shop you’d essentially taken over for negotiations. The owner had actually made a deal with you not too long ago, after witnessing you make so many without abusing your new subordinates. So she now had a source of better coffee and new machines due to be installed after Extermination Day. In the meantime she kept you and whoever joined your table supplied with drinks and snacks.

The crowd of Sinners approaching you now didn’t look like they were coming to negotiate however. They looked ready for a fight. One of the baristas whispered, “That’s the leader of the area and his gang, Miss.” You finished your drink and handed the cup to them. “Have everyone stay inside until I come in, cher.” The barista gladly dashed in the shop. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the workers and customers within scuttling about.

You leaned back in the metal chair as they came up to your table. The group of roughly a dozen demons was led by a skeleton with poisonously purple gel attaching all his joints. Fluid bubbled within the rib cage and a dull blue haze surrounded his shoulders. You simply waited, talons interlaced.

Your silence and slight smile irritated the tall creature. He was used to small female demons being intimidated by him and his goons. Evidently your calm was unnerving.

“So you're the bitch stealing all my people huh?” he finally hissed at you.

You tilted your head, “That’s a very interesting definition of ‘stealing.’ It’s rather difficult to steal something that doesn’t belong to anyone. And I can’t really blame any of the residents for coming to me after seeing the state of things here.”

He slammed a fist on the table, denting it. “First you kill my cousin, then you snatch away my people and now you insult me? I’m gonna show you your place girlie.”

His crowd of sycophants started hyping him up: “You tell her boss, fuck that bitch up, show her whatcha got Knuckles, she’s gotta pay for Bones.” This fool’s name was Knuckles? This lot was just sad if they couldn’t think of anything better.

The haze around his shoulders turned into flames as the bones of his hands grew. More flames erupted along his arms and fingers as his hands turned into spiked boxing gloves.

In response, you summoned dozens of stilettos into the air. They glimmered briefly before launching at the group. Squishy thuds were followed by cries of pain as the blades found their targets; eyes, throats, guts. Knuckles whipped his head around at his crew suddenly dropping in a dozen bloody messes.

You stood up, made sure of your footing, and leapt at the surprised bag of bones. You were too close to manage a flip, but a stab to the torso worked just fine. Or so you thought. As the leader stumbled down, carried by your momentum along with the sudden pain, the gel holding him together spewed fluid from the wound.

All that vibrant color was for a reason you realized as your hand burned with whatever the bastard was filled with splashed on your hand. “Fuck!” You kneed the skeleton in the jaw, sending him flat on his back, before quickly making a little whirlwind around your hand to get the fluid off.

Hissing through the pain, you planted a heeled foot on his skull. “Do you own any souls?” you asked roughly. Amazing how well the skeleton could show fear and confusion. You repeated the question, enunciating each word. He shook head. “Mais la, too bad.” You pulled your foot back slightly, turning his head. Then you kicked sharply with a gust for added power, twisting his head away and snapping his neck.

Stepping into the coffee shop, you called out, “All clear ladies and gentlemen. Zoe,” you gestured to the owner, “I need your last aid kit and the sink. And someone to clean up the mess.” You ran your burned hand under the water for a good twenty minutes, making sure you got all the acid(?) off. It was definitely a chemical burn but it was superficial. It would just hurt like a bitch.

Zoe helped you pay the area dry and wrap it in a clean bandage. “Are you going home Miss?” she asked nervously. You could guess any of the skeleton’s cronies that you hadn’t killed would be out for revenge once they realized he was dead. It was barely after lunch so there was ample time in the day for word to spread.

“And miss out on the next act?” You laughed as you settled back into your seat outside. “What kind of Overlord would I be if I left the job half done?” Only four demons came looking for trouble, but without you there that would have been even one too many.

Three joined their former boss in a heap of bodies. One, yet another gel connected skeleton with a blue color scheme, took a look at the pile of corpses, and decided selling his soul to you was the better option. Once you had the former grunt under your talon, you felt you could leave safely. You summoned a demon that had been with you for years. The hawk demon was used to being your occasional muscle. So you left the two of them to guard the shop. Meanwhile the body clean up decided burning the pile was their best option, especially with the acid skeleton mixed in. As you took off, they were lighting the gasoline drenched corpses on fire.

Alastor was home before you. Once he saw your bandaged hand he insisted on inspecting the wound. “Cher, how did this happen?” He asked, brows knitted as he unwrapped the bandage.

“Folly on my part. I didn’t realize the acidic looking demon was in fact, acidic.” Alastor examined the area and determined it was superficial as you thought. He applied ointment and rebandaged your hand. “At least now that I’ve killed that excuse for a gang leader it will be easier to acquire souls. I’ve got to close your lead cher.”

Your husband returned to the jambalaya he was preparing. “Are you still up to the contest my dear? I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to call it off now.”

“Of course I am!” You smacked the table with your good hand. “I’m not about to let a little injury stop me! I’m having too much fun.”

Your prediction was accurate. Without the neighborhood’s erstwhile leader and Extermination Day less than a week away, already desperate demons were losing their shit. You kept your new muscle, Calve, with you. He proved to be a decent informant. He resented you of course; you’d taken out his whole gang including his cousins. Your charm wore him down and by the end of the week he had a grudging respect for you.

Extermination Day arrived. The night before you had ensconced all your new souls into your territory. Doors and windows were fortified; the angels liked easy pickings and extra barriers meant they often went looking for other targets. It was only when they couldn’t find demons in the open that they started breaking down entrances.

In relative safety, you and Alastor finished your final tallies. 122 new souls for you and 124 for him. The last six days had helped you catch up but he still managed to squeak by a win.

“Ah, I do feel bad, making you wash all the dishes when your hand is still injured,” he mused as screams filled the air outside.

You examined your freshly bandaged hand. “Well, if you are that concerned, you can continue with the chore until I’m healed up. Should only be a few more days. I’ll even add a few days onto my end as an apology.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed, thinking it over. He grinned as another shriek pierced the air. “It’s a deal.”

———————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[shadowdaddies]

Could I possibly request a smutty Rhys x reader with the “crawl to me” trope? I have been trying to remember for so long what I wanted to request and it FINALLY came back to me lol

omg I got so excited when I saw this request. If you want the roles reversed lmk and I can write that but I want Rhys to crawl to me like this was what immediately came to mind lol

Crawl to Me

Rhys x Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, sub!Rhys, p in v sex, minors dni, not proofread

The moment Rhys closed the bedroom door behind you, the tight leash you had been holding on your emotions snapped. Whirling around to push your finger accusingly at his chest, your eyes lit with fury. “What the fuck was that, Rhys? You completely undermined me in front of all those people.” 

Rhys reached for your hand, his fingers softly brushing yours. Mischief danced in those violet eyes as he attempted to placate you. “Darling, you know that you play an equal role in this court-“ Yanking your hand out of his, you cut off his sentence. “Do not touch me right now, Rhysand. You cannot say that I am your equal when you do not allow me the opportunity to provide input in decision making. Did you see all of their faces when you agreed to the terms without consulting me? Those males were so smug to realize that High Lady is the decorative title they think it to be.” 

Rhys’s throat bobbed, his face flush with shame as he witnessed the full extent of your distress. Running a hand through his onyx waves, he paced over to the sitting area, leaning against the table as he faced where you stood at the edge of the bed. Violet eyes lined with silver looked up into yours. “Darling, I am so sorry. I did not mean to dismiss your role as High Lady... I’m just-“ he paused, an anxious sigh leaving his lips as his leg nervously bounced against the floor. “I’m not used to consulting with anyone when I make decisions like that. But I will. You tell me what you don’t like about the deal and I’ll let them know that their High Lady has new terms.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at your mate’s antics. “It’s not about the deal, Rhys. The deal is fine. I just want to be included in these matters. It’s important to me that we are recognized as partners.” Rhysand nodded, rubbing his chin. “From now on, I will look to you - not only for confirmation, but for you to voice your input.” With a smirk, he added, “but for now, we’ll find something you want to change in the deal. Just so they know who’s in charge.” With a wink and his usual charming smile, Rhys had shifted the air in the room entirely. 

His eyes roved over your body, the sleek black dress and heels that you had donned for the meeting leaving little to the imagination. Rhys’s eyes darkened, gaze turning hungry as his eyes flicked to yours. “Now, would you please let me show you exactly how much I admire you?”

You smirked back at him, standing tall as you slipped off the gown, leaving yourself bare except for the heels you wore. Rhys pushed against the table, fully standing as he moved to walk towards you. With a small shake of your head, the High Lord stopped dead in his tracks. Satisfaction filled you at his quick submission.

Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you leaned back and spread your legs. Rhys’s nostrils flared, his eyes glued to you as the combined scent of your arousals filled the room. Looking down your nose at the male, you snapped your fingers, pointing towards the ground. You had already forgiven him - you both knew it - but the temptation to draw this out further was too great. “Crawl to me,” you purred, a vicious smile on your lips.

The High Lord kneeled where he stood, looking up at you through dark lashes as he shifted to his hands and knees. The scent of his fresh arousal was enough confirmation that he was enjoying this as much as you were, eliciting a soft laugh from you as Rhysand crawled to the edge of the bed, where he kneeled, readily awaiting your instruction. “Good boy,” you purred, tucking the stiletto of your heel under his chin so that his eyeline was level with your pussy. 

His tongue subconsciously flicked out, licking his lips as he itched for permission to touch you. “Mmm...” you cooed as you brought your foot back to rest so your legs were spread on the bed frame. “Do you think you deserve to touch your High Lady?” Rhys’s eyes moved to yours, his breathing heavy as he answered. “No, High Lady. But I would be honored to be allowed to pleasure you.” You hummed, pleased with that answer. “Good boy,” you cooed again, head tilting as you debated whether to tease him further.

As much as you enjoyed toying with your husband, you were just as eager for his touch as he was yours. “You may pleasure me, then,” you nodded. No sooner had the words left your mouth than Rhys lunged upwards, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs as he licked a broad stripe up your core. You collapsed against the bed, back arching as he continued his work on you.

Rhys suckled on your clit, alternating between long, gentle pulses and sharp sucks, tongue occasionally flicking out as he pushed his fingers into you. Talons scraped along the edge of your mind, and you opened without hesitation only to be bombarded with a mental image. You were sprawled out on the throne like this, Rhys’s own throne nowhere to be seen as he knelt before you, worshipping your body in front of the entire court. 

Rhys withdrew from your mind, the feeling of his fingers curling against your walls bringing you crashing back to reality and over the edge. You screamed his name as Rhys worked you through your high, legs shaking when he finally released you from his grip. 

You were heaving for breath, vision still hazy when Rhys crawled over you, licking his fingers clean as he watched you with a feline grin. His boastful expression was short-lived, as you pulled him in for a deep kiss, forcing your tongue between his lips as you tasted yourself in your mate. You rolled Rhys over, straddling his hips as you ground against him. “I need your clothes off, now,” you whispered, frantic with need to have your mate inside of you. 

With a dark chuckle, Rhys vanished his clothes, now as bare as you. Rubbing your slick up and down his shaft, Rhys groaned as he gripped your hips. Taking hold of his hard cock, you lined him up with your center and sank down onto him, both of you moaning at the feeling. You rolled your hips back and forth as you bounced up and down, Rhys filling you everywhere as you worked him at an agonizingly slow pace. 

Growing with impatience, Rhysand flipped you over, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder as he began pounding into you. Licking his thumb, Rhys brought it down to rub your clit, sending you over the edge again. Clumsily shoving his hand away, Rhys laughed as he continued thrusting into you. 

Determined to maintain some sense of dominance, you licked your own finger, dragging it down the thick vein of his left wing. Rhys crumbled at your touch, coming undone with a roar as he filled you. Collapsing next to you on the bed, Rhys gently tilted your head to face him as he stroked your cheek. “I love you, my High Lady.” You laughed, rolling your eyes at his cheesiness. “I love you too, High Lord.”