#clearly I've been going about D&D all wrong

[c-duceusclay]

Normal bad ideas in D&D: My character's gonna take a point of exhaustion. I know it's gonna hurt me, but it feels right

Talisen: My character's gonna absorb a bomb

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.�� The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[gubsbuubs]

MASKED

(18+)

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings: smut; mask.k!nk (kinda), creampie

Summary: When tasked with directing a new episode focused on y/c/n, Matthew and Y/N unexpectedly uncover a shared affinity for masks

A/N: Hey my loves! I know I promised an MGG director smut, but after giving it some thought, I realized the story I have in mind needs more development so it´s going to be a multi-part fic. Stay tuned for that! In the meantime, here's a little taste of a MGG smut.

Please let me know if you guys enjoyed the visuals. I love to see them in works so I wanted to try it out.

English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

Friday 11pm - Quixote Studios Trailer Park - West Hollywood.

Being an actress on the set of Criminal Minds meant that a time would eventually come when she'd receive a script with her character´s name in the title.

"Y/C/N – Directed by Matthew Gray Gubler" She read it out loud as she stared at the cover page of the script.

Y/N knew, she didn't even need to flip through the pages to know that Y/C/N was clearly about to go through some traumatic event in her story development as the youngst and newest member of the BAU.

She was thankful; yes, don't get it wrong, she´d been waiting for an opportunity to take her own storyline even further since she joined the show almost a two years ago, but she didn't expect a 'Y/C/N" episode, especially not one directed by Matthew.

With his knack for blending spine-chilling suspense with heart-wrenching drama, it was bound to be a wild ride - equal parts terrifying and captivating.

With a laugh, she muttered to herself, "Well, this calls for a glass of wine,". She made her way to the small refrigerator tucked into the corner, it was late, everyone was already wrapped for the week, and a sip wouldn't hurt.

After pouring herself a generous portion of red, she returned to her seat on the couch.

The script lay before her, gently resting on her legs, feeling its weight against her skin. With a delicate touch, she let her fingers skim the cover, tracing the intricate patterns and feeling the slight texture beneath her fingertips.

As she opened the script, her eyes were immediately drawn to a sketch that covered the opening page. Unmistakably one of Gubler’s stills. Matthew had a very particular way of bringing his visions to life—through meticulously drawn storyboards.

And there, in stark contrast to the white of the page, was the figure that would probably haunt her dreams for nights to come.

No expression adorned its featureless face; the black mask it wore was void of emotion and intent. It seemed to leer at her from the page, its presence ominous and foreboding. Her eyes then drifted to the bottom right corner of the picture, where the word "Phlegethon" was written in bold letters.

Intrigued, she skimmed through the pages, scanning the lines of dialogue in search of any clues that might offer insight into the enigmatic masked figure and the direction of the episode.

And then, she found it—a classic Spencer Reid rambling session. A familiar warmth spread through her as she encountered the distinctive style of the beloved character. "Perfect," she thought, a soft smile gracing her lips as she sipped on her wine before delving deeper into the script.

(BAU CONFERENCE ROOM - LATE NIGHT) The team is gathered around the meeting table, discussing the details of the new case. David Rossi: "I've just never seen this type of burning technique before, how the victims are left with only their heads burnt to a crisp, leaving behind blackened, charred skin." (Pauses) "Guess the unsub has a flair for the dramatic." Spencer Reid: "I know how he's killing them." (Rises from his seat) "It's right there, he's giving us a clue." (Approaches the board and rearranges the crime scene pictures - depicting black letters on walls behind the victims) "P" "H" "L" "E" (Looks back at the table again) "He's spelling his name." (Pauses again) "Phlegethon." JJ: "Reid, English, please."

Spencer Reid: "Phlegethon... In Greek mythology, Phlegethon is one of the five rivers of the Underworld, known for its fiery nature and its association with punishment and destruction. It's often described as a river of fire, a torrent of burning flames that consumes everything in its path." (Motions at the pictures again) "He's achieving this burning technique by painting the victims' faces with Greek fire. Greek fire, also known as 'sea fire' or 'liquid fire,' was a devastating incendiary weapon used by the Byzantine Empire during naval battles. It's said to have been composed of a mixture of various substances, including petroleum, sulfur, and quicklime, which probably explains the smell the firefighters reported." (Sits back down) "By painting the victims' faces with Greek fire, the unsub is ensuring that the fire burns with intense heat in those specific areas, consuming the skin with a ferocity unmatched by conventional flames, leaving behind only blackened, charred remnants." Emily Prentiss: (Confused) "But that doesn't explain the sheer brutality of the wounds found in the victims' bodies." Y/C/N: "Or the masks he reportedly wears, as mentioned by Marianne Smith, the almost third victim who managed to escape." Spencer Reid: "It's possible that the masks serve a dual purpose. Firstly, they could serve as a grim reminder of his handiwork, a twisted reflection of the charred, disfigured faces left behind by his method of killing." (Pounders for a second) "Secondly, the masks could also provide a layer of anonymity, allowing him to operate without fear of being identified. By concealing his face, he's able to move freely without leaving behind any recognizable features, making it harder for law enforcement to track him down." Luke Alvez: "The beatings could serve as a means of subduing or torturing his victims. The physical violence may not only serve to incapacitate them but also to instill fear and control, further amplifying their suffering."

Y/N lifted her eyes from the paper, bringing the glass to her lips. The smooth taste of the wine coated her tongue as she pondered the words she had just read. Eventually, she came to realize that kidnapping was what connected Y/C/N to that creppy man. As the BAU delved deeper into their investigation to catch Phlegethon, Y/C/N's would fall victim to his clutches.

Reading through the script, she couldn't help but flinch at the vivid descriptions of the torture scenes her character would endure. Well … there it was - the trauma.

Each page turned brought forth mounting tension, yet, amidst the fear and apprehension, there was also a strange sense of excitement. As an actress, she relished the opportunity to delve into the depths of her character's psyche, and portray the resilience and strength needed to survive such harrowing circumstances.

The quiet of her trailer is suddenly shattered by the creak of the door, causing her to jump in her seat. Before she could react, the door swung open, revealing a person standing in the doorway, their face obscured by a dark, featureless mask.

She let out a piercing scream, panic setting in as she scrambled backwards with her eyes wide with terror.

Then a sound cuts through the air: laughter, the unknown person in the mask reaches up, removing it and revealing a familiar face.

"GUBLER! You son of a bitch, you scared the shit out of me!" she exclaimed as she stood up to smack him in the arm.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said between laughs. "But you have to admit, it was pretty good."

Shaking her head in disapproval, she sat back down, "Yeah, yeah, good one."

With a soft click of the door behind him, Matthew fully entered the room and threw the mask into Y/N’s lap. She glanced down at it, then back up at at her co-star as he took a seat beside her on the sofa.

"Soooo…. What did you think?" He asked as he picked up the script.

"Well… It's intense, to say the least." She let out a shaky laugh. "I mean, the storyline is gripping, but those torture scenes... They're pretty chilling."

"Yeah, it's definitely going to push some boundaries," he commented, glancing down at the mask. "Speaking of which, what did you think of him? Does the mask capture the essence of Phlegethon?"

"It's... haunting," she murmured softly. "Definitely adds to the creep factor, gives me chills just to look at it."

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.“Did you see who I cast for the role?"

She looked up at him, curiosity evident in her expression as her eyebrows rose slightly. "Who did you cast?"

“You didn't even look at the casting?" he teased, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I was too caught up in the story," she admitted with a sheepish grin as she took the script out of his hands and flipped to the last pages.

STARRING: David Rossi - Joe Mantegna Emily Prentiss - Paget Brewster Dr. Spencer Reid - Matthew Gray Gubler Phlegethon - Matthew Gray Gubler Y/C/N Y/C/LN - Y/N Y/L/N Jennifer Jareau - A.J. Cook Penelope Garcia - Kirsten Vangsness Dr. Tara Lewis - Aisha Tyler Luke Alvez - Adam Rodriguez Matt Simmons - Daniel Henney

She stared in disbelief, her eyes widening with surprise. "What? No way”

"Oh, way, my sweet Y/N," he murmurs as he swiftly snatched the mask from her right leg. His fingers accidentally touching her exposed skin. Goosebumps immediately rose on her legs involuntarily.

With a wide smile he places the mask on "I'm gonna be haunting your dreams tonight," he whispered in a spooky voice.

As Matthew waved his hands in a ghostly manner in front of her face, she stood still, analyzing his barely noticeable features under the mask. In the dimly lit trailer, only accompanied by the small hum of her mini-fridge, she found it weird how into it she was getting by seeing Matthew with a mask on.

It wasn't that he needed to cover his face to look good, I mean, have you seen the man? He looks good all the damn time. But there was something strangely appealing about the way he looked in that eerie disguise. Creepy, but good.

Her heart was beating a little faster as she caught herself admiring the contours of his jawline, the way his nose perked up under the mask, and how his slender neck appeared from the gap between the mask and his slightly unbuttoned oversized patterned shirt.

Now silently standing before her, there was something undeniably hot about the mysterious aura he exuded.

Suddenly he reached out, his hand lightly resting on her arm. "I'm sorry, did I actually scare you?"

She cleared her throat nervously. "No, no," she waved her hand dismissively, trying to brush off the effect he was having on her.

"You're sure?" he pressed, adding reassuring pressure to her skin.

Her skin was warm, soft, so couldn’t help but notice how goosebumps formed on her skin under his fingers.

"Yeah, it was just..." She sighed, not wanting to give away the fact that she actually felt turned on by this. "It was weird seeing you like this."

Unconsciously she let her hand meet his cheek, analyzing the way the black fabric hugged his features without giving his identity away. “You look, I don’t know... different."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps. He could feel his face getting hotter as her hand caressed the shape of his jawline. The fluster creeping up his neck was probably visible to her as she studied his masked face attentively.

He locked his eyes on hers and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was witnessing something beyond the ordinary. Was he seeing things, or was that a glimmer of lust? Desire? Her cheeks flushed with a warmth that mirrored his own, her delicate touch tracing the contours of the mask with an intimacy that set his pulse racing. Her breathing unstable, coming out in small quickened breaths.

It couldn't be... could it? Was the mask somehow affecting her, stirring something she wouldn’t dare to acknowledge?

The mere thought made his heart pound faster in his chest and he swallowed hard when he noticed the unmistakable tightness in his pants.

"Different how?" His voice was low as their proximity increased, so close now that if either dared the only thing separating them was the black fabric.

She took a deep breath,"You look... mysterious,".

He chuckled slightly “Is that a good thing?”

“Humm… yeah” her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she caused her bottom lip in between her teeth. “a very good thing.”

He was definitely not seeing things, if he ever did need a confirmation that was it. As she flashed them a smile with her bottom lip caught up in between her teeth his mind was racing at 1000 mph. She looks so innocent before him, so soft and fragile, but the look on her eyes was that of darkness and desire and he couldn’t ignore it even if he tried.

"Do you like that?" His voice was a low, teasing murmur, and although concealed by the mask, she could sense the mischievous lift of his eyebrows. “Do you like how mysterious I look”

She swallowed hard as her pulse quickening at the playful challenge in his voice. "I do," she confessed.

"You know… I’ve got to be very honest Y/N" the pressure he applied on her arm raised as he carefully knead the skin under his finger tips. "I could get used to you looking at me like that."

A small, innocent smile adorned her lips “And how exactly am I looking at you?"

He chuckled softly, his smirk growing wider "You really want me to describe what I see in your eyes?"

She simply nodded in confirmation.

He gently took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up "Okay," he murmured, his thumb traced the contour of her jawline. "Let's see... I’m sensing …a mixture of desire and curiosity. It's like you've just discovered something new about yourself… something exciting and a little dangerous.”

She felt her cheeks flush gently looked away.

“No, eyes on me!” He commanded holding her face in place “You’re scared but also excited…. I would even dare to say, turned on…”

Her eyes widened in surprised as she came to realize she wasn’t being a subtle as she planned. “I.. I… don’t … what?”

He chuckled as she struggled to find the right words. “It’s okay I feel the same… I’m actually pretty worked up to”

Her expression lit up “You are?”

He nodded his head in confirmation “You have no idea how much you’re driving me crazy right now”

She looked unsure, confused even like she could never believe the undeniable and pretty noticeable effect she was having on him.

“Do you want me to show you Sweetheart?” His left hand met hers.

Without being able to form a proper answer, she uttered a simple, “Please.”

Matthew took her hand and placed it on the visible bulge that imprinted his pants. Her eyes momentarily left his covered face to glance down, trying her best to not start moaning at how good his cock felt under her touch.

She began to caress him, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric. Her fingers traced the outline of his erection, eliciting a throaty groan from him as he threw his head back.

Her strokes grew more deliberate, fingers gliding over the hard ridge and pressing lightly, teasing him and feeling the way his cock throbbed under her hand. As she continued to caress him, she felt the tension in his body build, his hips subtly rocking forward, seeking more of the pleasure she was giving.

Unable to resist any longer he moved up his mask just enough before he reached forward, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her close. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing a trail along her sensitive skin, earning a sweet moan.

His other hand slid down to her chest, gently caressing her breast through the fabric of her dress.

His other hand slid down to her chest, gently caressing her breast through the fabric of her dress. “Is this okay?” Matthew whispered

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice tinged with longing, reveling in the sensation of his hands on her body.

He kissed right below her ear before he spoke “Tell me what are you thinking right now?”

Her eyes fluttering closed. “You’re making it hard to think,” she admitted.

“Good,” he murmured, “Then I’m doing something right”

He leaned down to meet her lips, his tongue lightly sweeping over her bottom lip. She surrendered to the kiss, her body shuddering as his tongue danced with hers. Her fingers found their way to the back of his neck, gently tangling in the curls that peeked out from under the mask.

With a soft moan, she deepened the kiss, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He followed her lead, pressing against her as she laid back.

His fingers trailed along her exposed thigh, the fabric of her dress riding up as she wrapped herself around him.

He melted into her, his breath mingling with hers as a quiet, involuntary moan escaped his lips, intensifying the throb of his cock against the fabric of his pants.

His teeth grazed the delicate skin of her neck, and with a sigh, she tilted her head to the side, granting him access as he began to suckle gently on her skin, leaving a trail of warm kisses in his wake.

"Fuck," she moaned as she pressed herself closer to him, his breath hitched as he rocked his hips against her, the friction growing intense between them. Their bodies moved together, and it was becoming almost unbearable as they both craved more.

Her hands tugged at his shirt, desperate for more contact, and he let out a low groan, his fingers gripping her hips tighter, holding her close and increasing the pressure against her core.

“Matthew” She panted, her voice filled with urgency, "we shouldn't be doing this here."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his breath hot against her skin.

"Please no!” she sounded desperate, her body betraying her protests as she grownd her hips against his croch. "It´s just.. we're at work," she pleaded, torn between desire and reason.

He chuckled softly, his lips still trailing kisses along her neck. "You're right," he murmured, his hand gently moving the strap of her dress down, exposing more of her soft skin. "We really shouldn't be doing this."

His hand skimmed over her breast, his touch gentle yet possessive as he caressed her through her bra. She shuddered, her skin breaking out in goosebumps at his touch. "But I don't think I can stop now," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, as he pulled the straps down, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Some… Someone…” she stumbled her words, her voice tinged with urgency. "Someone could walk in any minute."

But her protests were met with the delicious sensation of his lips circling around her left nipple, lightly grazing it with his teeth. A whine escaped her lips as his hand kneaded her right breast, alternating between a gentle caresses and rougher grabs.

"Then tell me to stop, Y/N" he challenged, his hands moving to the hem of her dress, slowly raising it up as he positioned himself between her legs. His touch was firm as his lips brushed against the skin of her hip, teasing her with their proximity.

She moaned, her voice a desperate plea as she pushed his head down, craving more of his touch. He responded eagerly, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on the skin of her stomach.

"What if someone hears?" Her eyes searched for some type of reassurance as he settled his head between her thighs.

"What if?" he asked as he placed a kiss inside her thigh "Just let them hear how good I'm making you feel."

She let out a moan, her breath hitching with desire before she quipped "Wait!"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He raised his head to look at her, his hands rested on her thighs where his fingers traced small circles, teasing and tempting her further.

With a swift movement, she reached up and pulled the mask off his face. "This was fun but I want to see your face when you eat me out,".

That earned a wholeheartedly laugh, his eyes sparkling in the dim light now that the mask was gone. "You've got it," he replied.

His fingers gently moved her panties to the side, and as soon as she was bare before him, he couldn't help but let out a groan at the sight of her, so wet and inviting, begging for his touch.

"I've been dying to taste you," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers as he lowered himself between her legs. Then, without breaking eye contact, his tongue made contact with her slit, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips.

Her back arched in response, and her hand flew to his hair as he explored her with his tongue. The room was filled with the sounds of wetness, and hums of pleasure.

His tongue drew circles on her clit before taking a long stripe from bottom to top, catching her bud between his lips once again. "You taste better than I've ever imagined,".

His fingers traced a path from her hip to her lips, and she eagerly welcomed them into her mouth, coating them with her saliva. A moan escaped him, sending vibrations against her clit and intensifying the pleasure coursing through her body.

As she threw her head back in ecstasy, he took his fingers and lightly breached her entrance, initiating a slow, pumping motion. Her grip on his hair tightened, seeking steadiness. He continued to explore her with his fingers, feeling her walls clench around him in response to his movements. With each thrust, she felt herself edging closer, unable to contain the building tension within her body.

"You look so pretty," he whispered.

"Matthew," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "don't stop."

"Can you please cum on my tongue," he pleaded. "You taste so good, baby."

Her legs trembled as her cunt dripped and he hungrily lapped up every essence, savoring the taste of her pleasure.

Her legs trembled as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to steady her breathing.

He sat up in front of her, a satisfied smile playing on his moist lips. "You're incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration "I could do that all day."

"Me too," she chuckled as she sat up, meeting his lips in a desperate kiss. She undid the buttons on his shirt, each one revealing more of his chest.

"Arms up," he instructed as he rose in his feet, with ease he swiftly removed her dress and bra, revealing her soft skin, adorned only in her panties.

His hand met her cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, as he stood before her.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as she leaned forward, letting her fingers trace the outline of his bulge. With delicate movements, she unbuttoned his pants, and they fell to the floor with a soft thud. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around him, lightly pumping his cock before taking his pink tip into her mouth. His head flew back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around him with precision.

"You're going to have to stop," he gasped, his fingers entangled in her hair as she looked up at him, her mouth still working wonders on him.

“Please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire, "I need to be inside of you."

She released him with a soft pop, and he felt like he could have cum right then and there, especially with that smile she just flashed him. God, she looked so pretty kneeling before him like that.

He reached forward, wrapping his fingers around her neck gently, and she followed his lead, sinking back onto the sofa. He lowered himself on top of her, his weight pressing into her as he settled between her legs.

With a hungry look in his eyes, he reached between them to grab his thick and throbbing cock. Slowly, he guided it to her entrance, teasing her with the tip as he felt her wetness coating him. With a slow motion against her slick folds he finally sank into her.

She was a moaning mess against his lips as he fully bottomed out, her walls stretching deliciously around him, welcoming him deeper.

He began to move, savoring the feeling of her warmth enveloping him. His movements increased in speed and intensity as her moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of their bodies coming together.

He glanced down, watching as her wet cunt hungrily swallowed his cock, now glistening with her juices. The sight of himself disappearing inside her, inch by inch, was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, you look so good taking all of me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hips moved with primal intensity, driving into her with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.

Her moans grew louder and more desperate as he filled her completely. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"I won't," he promised, his breath hot against her ear. "Not until you cum on my cock."

He reached down, his thumb finding her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. She cried out, her body arching into him as the added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge.

“Oh my God," she panted, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"I can feel you squeezing me." He groaned, his thrusts becoming progressively urgent and demanding. "You're going to cum for me, sweethart?"

"Yes," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him. "Yes, I'm so close."

A final, powerful thrust was all it took for her walls to clench around him as she reached her peak, her body trembling with the force of her release. He groaned in satisfaction, feeling her shudder beneath him.

The sensation of her pulsing around him was his undoing, he had to cum. He was about to pull out, but she circled her legs around him, holding him in place.

"Keep going," she gasped, her voice barely coarse.

"Oh, please don't," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm not going to last."

"Please, come inside of me."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, please," she pleaded. "Fill me up."

With a guttural moan, he couldn't hold back any longer. His body trembled fast against hers as he released inside, filling her with his warmth. "Fuck," he muttered, his climax hitting him hard.

He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily as they layed intertwined.

She smiled up at him, a satisfied look in her eyes. "That was amazing," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

He kissed her forehead gently and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You're incredible," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her swollen lips.

Matthew reached for the tissue box on the counter, gently cleaning her up. He got up, and she adjusted her panties back into place.

Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. He found her bra first and handed it to her with a soft smile.

“Here you go,” he said, his voice warm. She slipped her arms through the straps, and he stepped closer, clasping it at the back with ease. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, and he placed a kiss on her shoulder. Next, he picked up her dress and held it out for her. As she got dressed, he turned to find his pants, pulling them on.

"Let me help you with that," she said, stepping closer to him as he got his shirt on. Her fingers deftly worked on the buttons fastening them with care.

After they were both dressed, they stood in silence for a moment, the air felt heavy with the remnants of their intimacy.

Matthew's gaze wandered to the floor, where the black mask lay discarded. Bending down, he picked it up, the smooth surface cool against his fingertips. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"So, we accidentally discovered we're into masks, huh?" he chuckled, holding up the mask between them.

Y/N burst into laughter. "Seriously, how the hell are we supposed to film the episode after this?" she exclaimed between giggles.

Matthew laughed along “Yeah, it's going to be really difficult to not get hard in front of the whole production team"

"I'll never look at masks the same way again," she admitted "Thankfully, I do not l come across a lot of them."

"Well, I have to admit, I do have quite the collection of masks back home," he continued, raising his eyebrows "I don't know if you know this, but Halloween is kind of my thing."

"Oh, really? I had no idea" Y/N said in an ironic way, a playful grin spreading across her lips. "Is this your way of inviting me back to your place?"

"Maybe," Matthew's lips curved into a smirk, “But.. humm… actually" he began, his voice sincere. "I want to know if you would you like to go out to dinner with me? Like, a proper date?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up in surprise "Matthew, we just had sex. Shouldn't we be doing things the other way around?"

"I know it might seem backward, but... I really like you, Y/N and I want to do things the right way. So, what do you say?"

"I'd love to go on a proper date with you," she replied with a smile.

[perfctvelvet]

Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please

The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).

"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."

It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.

You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.

"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."

Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.

Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.

"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence. 

Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.

"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"

Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.

You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.

"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?

Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore. 

You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.

Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.

Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.

Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.

"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"

You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.

"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.

"Still playing dumb, huh?"

There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.

"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."

Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.

"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"

Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet. 

"Pick a number, baby."

You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?

"Pick a number. 1-3."

It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.

"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.

The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.

"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."

You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.

The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.

"Get up."

Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.

"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."

She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.

Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.

"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."

Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.

It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.

"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.

The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.

She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.

It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.

Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?' 

You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.

"I think you left a present over there."

She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.

"Oh god," you groan.

"We can always sleep in the other room."

"I don't think I can move, Bil."

You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.

[lgbtlunaverse]

What kind of saber is baxia anyway?

I love my bloodthirsty princess of a cursed blade, and in my heart of hearts i am nothing but a sword nerd, so i've been extremely fascinated by Baxia and how we know frustratingly little about what she actually looks like!

I mean, look at bichen, right?

Bichen in the donghua:

Bichen in the drama:

They're clearly not exactly the same. The scabbards are different, and the guards have a different shape. But these are recognizably different iterations on one theme, right? Thin jian with a white grip silver guard, light blue tassel and silver mounting accents on the scabbard.

Now this is baxia in the donghua:

And baxia in the drama:

????????

THAT'S A COMPLTELY DIFFERENT WEAPON

it doesn't stop there either, the audio drama is kind enough to give us ANOTHER COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BAXIA

pretty! But how is that he same sword??

And when we go back to the novel, we get very little information on her appearance other than the fact that her blade is tinted red with all the blood she's absorbed. Which none of these designs incorporate.

This is not a dig on the designs itself, they're all quite gorgeous in their own right and i'm going to spend a while discussing all of them! Because isn't it fascinating how, since we know little about novel baxia beyond "saber" all of these designs ended up so different? What kinds of sabers are these, anyway?

So, a chinese aber, aka a "dao" (刀) just means a sword that has only one cutting side. As opposed to a jian, which has two.

You can see how that leaves a LOT of room for variaton.

I've actually seen some people get confused because Huaisang's saber in the untsmed is thin and quite straight, making it superficially resemble the jian more than drama!baxia, but it is still clearly a saber!

See? only one cutting blade!

This, to me looks a lot like a tang dynasty hengdao

credit to this blog for providing his image and being a great source for all this going forward.

TANGENT: during all this I found out the english wikipedia page for dao is WRONG! Ths is what they about the tang hengdao!

So that sounds like the hengdao was called that during the sui dynasty, but then, after that, started being called a peidao, right?

WRONG

I LOOKED AT THE SOURCE THEY USED AND IT SAYS THIS:

IT WAS CALLED THE PEIDOU UNTIL THE SUI DYNASTY, AT WHICH POINT IT WAS CALLED A HENGDAO. Which would carry over to the Tang dynasty. This was the source wikipedia linked! and it says something else than they say it does!

Anyone know how to edit a wikipedia article?

ANYWAY

BACK TO BAXIA

Since we're already at the drama, let's look at drama baxia: She's also straight! the general term for straight-backed saber is Zhibeidao, but that's a modern collector's term, and doesn't really say anything about which historical kind of saber baxia could be based on. Another meta i found on the drama nie sabers already went on some detail here.

I'm gonna expand on that a little: The kinds of historical straight-backed sabers we see resemble the hengdao a lot more than they do baxia. They don't go to their point as harsly as she does (she's basically a cleaver!) and they're all way skinnier.

No, my personal theory is that instead of being based on any kind of historical sword, drama!baxia is based on a Nandao.

I mean, come on, look at it!

Baxia!

The Nandao... isn't actually a historical sword. It was invented for Wushu forms. There's a really fascinating article about its conception, but that's why the swords in the images look a little thin and flimsy. Wushu swords are very flexible and light, they're dance props, not weapons to fight with. There are actual steel versions of Nandao, but they're recreations of the prop, not the other way around.

So That's one way in which Baxia differes from the Nandao: she's actually a real weapon. The other is that, as you can see above, the nandao has an S-shaped guard. Baxia doesn't. She's also much more elaborately decorated, of course. Because she's a princess.

Now: audio drama baxia!

This is much easier. with that flare at the tip?

Oh baby that's a niuweidao, all the way!

There are more sabers with that kind of curved handle, but the broad tip is really charcteristic of the niuweidao. The Niuweidao is also incredibly poplar in modern media, often portrayed as a historical sword, but it originated i nthe 19th century! And it was actually never used by the military!

That's right, the Niuweidao was pretty much exclusively a civilian weapon! That makes its use here anachronistic, but so is the nandao, and considering that the origin story of the Nie is that they use Dao intead of Jian because their ancestors were butchers, portraying them with a weapon historically reserved for rebels and common people instead of the imperial military is actually very on theme!

Finally, Donghua/Manhua baxia. These two designs are so similar I'm going to treat them as one and the same for now.

Unlike both previous baxias, The long handle makes it clear this baxia is a two-handed weapon, though Nie Mingjue is absolutely strong enough to wield her with one hand anyway. Normal rules don't count for cultivators.

Now, this is where things get tricky, because there are a lot of words for long two-handed sabers. And a lot of them are interchangable! This youtube video about the zhanmadao, one of the possible sabers this baxia could be based on, goes a little into just how confusing this can get. This kind of blade WAS actually in military use for many centuries, making it the most historically accurate of all the baxias. But because of that it also has several names and all of those names can also refer to different kinds of blades depending on what century we're in.

So here's our options: i'm going to dismiss the wodao and miandao, because these were explicitly based on japanese sword design, and as we can see manhua baxia has that very broad tip, so that won't work

(Example of a wodao. According to my sources Miaodao is really just the modern common term for the wodao, and the changdao, and certain kinds of zhanmadao... do you see how quickly this gets confusing?)

Next option: Zhanmadao.

Zhanmadao stands for "horse chopping saber" so... yeah they were anti-cavalry weapons. meant to be able to cut the legs and/or necks of horses. That definitely sounds like a weapon Nie Mingjue would wield. But if you watched that youtube video i linked above, you'll know the standardized Qing dinasty Zhanmadao looked very different from earlier versions. It was inspired by the japanese odachi, and more resembles the miandao than its ealrier heftier counteprarts.

Earlier Ming dynasty Zhanmadao on the other hand were... basically polearms. the great ming military blog spot, another wonderful source, says these are essentially a kind of podao/pudao (朴刀) which looked like this

Now that blade looks a lot like baxia, but the handle is honestly too long. Donghua!baxia straddles the line between sword an polearm a little, but while zhanmadao have been used to refer to both long-handled swords and polerarms, this was undeniably a polearm, not a sword.

If you want to know what researching this was like, I found a picture of this blade on pinterest-- labeled as a "two-handed scimitar"-- and the comment section was filled with people arguing about whether this was a Pudao, Wudao, Zhanmadao, Dadao, Guandao, or a japanese Nagita.

So... that's how it was going. This has kept me up until 2 AM multiple times.

However! Thanks to this article on the great ming military blog I found out there have historically been pudao blades with shorter handles!

Specifically, Ming dynasty military writer Cheng Ziyi created a modified version of the pudao to work with the Dan Fao Fa Xuan technixues-- aka technqiues for a two-handed saber, which would alter heavily influence Miaodao swordmanship-- thereby, as the article points out, essentially merging the cleaver-polearm type Zhanmadao with the later two-handed japanese-inspired design.

This is the illustration for the Wu Bei Yao Lue (武備要略) a Ming dynasty military manual

This blade shape in the illustration doesn't match Baxia exactly, but since it's a lengthened Pudao-like blade and we've seen above that those can match Donghua Baxia's shape, i'm gonna say that calling Baxia a Zhanmadao with a two-handed grip isn't all that innacurate!

However, because all of these terms are so intertwined, there are a dozen other things you could call her that would be about equally correct.

To show that, here's a lightning round of other potential Baxia candidates:

Dadao (大刀)

Which are generally one-handed and too short. However!

Another youtube video i found of someone training with a Zhanmadao that resembles baxia a little also calls it a "shuangshoudai dao" (雙手带 刀) shuangshou means two-handed, and while 雙手带 seems to refer to a longer handled weapon, when looking for a shuangshou dao or shuangshou dadao (双手大刀) we find a lot more baxia-resembling blades like here and here

I also found that, while the cleaver-like Dadao is strictly a product of the 20th centuy, since dadao just means big sword or big knife, it has been used to refer to loads of different weapons! Some people could've called the zhanmadao and pudao "dadao" during the Ming dynasty as well.

Another potential baxia candidate that mandarin mansion classifies as similar to the later dadao (though longer, as seen in the illustration below) is the "Kuanren Piandao"

Which piqued my interest because this diagram classifying different tpye of Dao:

Claims that a Kuanrenbiandao (diferent spelling, same sword) is the same as a modern day Zhanmadao.

(So once again, all of these terms are interchangable)

Another opton Is the Chuanmeidao/Chuanweidao (船尾刀) below you can see a diagram, based on the Qing dynasty green standard army regulation, of blades all officially classified as types of "pudao"

The top middle is the Kuanren Piandao, and bottom left is the Chuanweidao.

Both of these have a lot of baxia-like qualities.

So there you go! live action baxia is based on a Nandao, audio drama baxia is based on a Niuweidao, and Manhua/donghua baxia is some kind of two-handed Zhanmadao/Pudao/Dadao depending on how you want to look at it.

I'm honestly surprised no one has made the creative decision to portray Baxia as a Jiuhuandao, aka 9 ringed broadsword yet.

I mean look at it! Incredibly imposing. Would make for a great Baxia imo. (@ upcoming mdzs manga and mobile game: take notes!)

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ choose me, trafalgar law

it was the hundredth morning that the heart pirates were woken up before their time. the sound of glass being thrown on the ship alerted everyone, but mostly bepo, causing him to be the first one to wake.

"what the hell is all this noise?" the furry pirate grumbled, taking a full stop to your shared room with the captain.

"you're not being fair!" your voice is muffled from the other side of the door. "you never choose me!"

"i always choose you!" the captain's voice is loud as ever. bepo could actually hear some offense cloud his tone as well. "i do all this shit for you!"

tears ran down your face as your hand shook against it. "but you d-dont! i've been with you—longer than anyone else here has. I've had your back through thick and thin. time and time again you choose the crew over me—your wife!"

law’s voice is harsh as the next few words leave his lips. "so you're gonna make me choose?"

"i would never make you choose! these men are your family and i get that—they are just as much mine as they are yours-but you don't understand law that no one has had your back, not like i fucking did. that time where you fought with the entire crew over something you were clearly wrong about? i chose you. every single time whether you're right or wrong—i fucking choose you, as any wife would! you never choose me!"

law scoffed with a shake of his head, trying to dodge everything that just came out your mouth.

"i always fucking choose you. you have no idea how much i choose you. I'd kill anyone over you. you know that."

"that is not enough law, why don't you understand that?!" you scream. "you choose being a pirate over being a husband sometimes and i would never tell you to stop pursuing your dreams. i know you've wanted this since kids," your voice cracks. "but you choose the sea over me every time i beg you not to do something and you still do it. i fight with you over and over and you just think that sex will be enough to get rid of this empty feeling inside."

bepo could hear your sobs from the other side of the door. he could tell whatever you two were fighting about was very important. from what he gathered though, he could see both sides of the story.

law was a pirate captain; it was his dream to rule the sea.

understandable.

but he was also a husband first; committed to you, he's been clearly neglecting you the past few months and it was only natural that you became restless and needy for your man.

also understandable.

there were times that bepo did not agree with his captain and best friend often. he was brave enough to tell law when he was flat out wrong about things, and that wasn’t very often. but now he wasn't sure who was in the right or wrong this time. not when law had his mind set on completing a specific goal.

but, at the end of the day, captain's orders were still captain's orders. the heart pirates were obligated to follow their captain to death if the time asked for it. he could see both sides of the story limitlessly, but ethically, had to side with his captain no matter what. it wasn't his business to intervene either.

you and law continue going back and forth, but over time your comebacks slow down as you're practically choking on your tears. at the sight of your reddened brown face, law walked over to you and wrapped his large tattooed hand around your neck, grabbing your attention.

"look at me," his voice is low and demanding. but you didn't want to look at him right now. you wanted to look at anything but him. your sniffles don't stop him from repeating himself though as his grip on your neck grows a little stronger, tight enough not to hurt you of course, but just enough to where you got a little buzz in your head, just way he knew you liked it. "look at me."

finally, your beautiful eyes slowly moved upward to look at him. they couldn't help but glare (although it still came out as a pout), and law visibly frowned when he saw just how upset you were over this. your sniffles get lower as you fight the urge to wipe away your tears, but he beats you to it, swiping the D of his tatted thumb across your hot face.

"i will divide the seas for you, if need be,” law told you, voice strong and calm. you could tell he was out of breath from how worked up he was getting a minute ago. with a much lower octave, he leans in closer to your face, hazel gold eyes never leaving your own. "i’d fucking rip the flag off my own fleet and burn this sub on land with everyone in it over you," more tears run from your eyes in response to his words. but law continues to wipe them away for you, always catching your tears. “i will bring hell to this fucking place we call earth if that’s what you asked of me. everything i do as this ship's captain is for you. i would fucking give up being a pirate if that's what you wanted me to do. tell me. tell me what it is you want to me to do y/n because sailing these seas aren't worth shit if you hate me and if it's in another lifetime where you aren't my wife. tell me what you want me to do. not as your captain but as your fucking husband. that what you want, right baby? tell me what you want."

and that was when your lip quivered and your words cried out to the seas, "i want you to choose me!"

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I've got to say, I'm very pleased that this au won the latest poll! Gwaine's one of my favorite characters, but I don't give him enough love in my writing. So, I decided to really let his character shine in this au alongside some other characters who I feel like didn't get enough attention in the show. Enjoy! :D

Also, I saw that Merlin was trending again today, so I decided to jump in while that was happening lol! I love that this fandom will just wake up on a random day and decide to take over tumblr!

This au is set in the years between season 4 and season 5 (but Lancelot is still alive because I say so), and the story starts with Gwaine's getting a little worried about his friend. Merlin's getting more and more stressed as the weeks go by, and he doesn't smile very often anymore despite Gwaine's best efforts, which usually involve roping Merlin into whatever mischief he's stirred up recently for a little bit of fun.

Gwaine feels pretty guilty about Merlin's worsening mental state, because Gwaine is thriving for the first time in his life, finding a community and purpose among the knights of Camelot. And he owes it all, everything he now has, to Merlin, who is suffering under a burden that no one can seem to help him with.

So, Gwaine tries all that he can to cheer up his friend and pull him out of whatever terrible place his mind is stuck in, but no matter what Gwaine does, he can't seem to lighten Merlin's mood any. Sure, Merlin will plaster on a smile for Gwaine's sake and tell him that nothing's wrong, but Gwaine can see the dullness in Merlin's eyes, he saw it every time his saw his reflection for years before Merlin barreled into his life and showed him that there was more to life than taverns and wandering.

Before he knew it, a year had passed, and Gwaine hadn't made any progress in pulling Merlin out of his darkening mental state. Gwaine felt so frustrated and useless whenever he saw Merlin's smile the drop the second he thought that no one was watching. This was his chance to finally repay Merlin for turning his life around for the better, for giving him a home, a family, a purpose, but nothing he did was helping!

But Gwaine couldn't give up on helping Merlin. There must be a way to help him, to support him through whatever was burdening him, some way to bring that bright spark back to his eyes. Gwaine just had to find out how.

From the on, Gwaine kept an even closer eye on Merlin, determined to figure out what was weighing down his friend and how to ease his burdens. It was because Gwaine was watching Merlin so closely that he noticed them.

Gwaine will give them credit, whoever they were, they were good at stealth, far beyond anyone Gwaine had met before. The cloaked figure was almost always out of sight, right in the corners of his vision. At first, he thought that this nearly imperceivable figure was after him, but it didn't take him long to figure out that the mysterious figure was following Merlin.

As soon as Gwaine realized this, all of the alarm bells in his mind went off. Was this an assassin sent to kill Merlin? A spy trying to infiltrate Camelot? A bandit planning to abduct Merlin for ransom?

Or, Gwaine realized, this might be connected to Merlin's worsening moods. This mysterious figure was clearly well trained, but they had been following Merlin for over a week and still hadn't attacked, so they probably weren't an assassin or bandit. Was Merlin being threatened by this figure into doing their bidding?!

Finally, after tailing Merlin's stalker for weeks, Gwaine manages to get some answers after following Merlin on a late-night rendezvous outside of the castle. When Gwaine had spotted Merlin sneaking away under the cover of night, Gwaine of course had to follow him! Merlin could be in danger!

Gwaine followed Merlin as the other man made his way into the woods with a surprising amount of stealth. After a long hike through the woods, Merlin arrived at his destination, which, to Gwaine's shock, looked strikingly like a druid camp. There were painted tents, campfires, and even magical symbols carved into the tree, and all signs pointed to sorcerers living there.

Gwaine's anxiety skyrocketed at the sight. Why would Merlin risk coming to this secret druid camp, which Arthur definitely did not know about? Was Merlin being threatened and followed by sorcerers?!

Gwaine crept around the outskirts of the camp, sticking to the darkness. He saw Merlin approach a rather intimidating bald man, who, if the way the others in the camp made way for him as he walked, was the leader of this group of sorcerers.

Gwaine kept his hand firmly wrapped around the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it and run to the defense of his friend at a moment's notice. As he kept watching though, he strangely couldn't see any sign of a threat towards Merlin. While Gwaine couldn't hear much of their conversation, the intimidating leader guy acted almost friendly towards Merlin, and Merlin was relaxed, not showing any signs of fear at all.

As Merlin and his maybe-friend began making their way out of the camp, Gwaine could finally hear some of what they were saying.

"Thank you again, Alator. I'm not sure what I would've done without your help!"

"It is no burden to me or my men, I assure you. It is an honor to assist a man as great as you, Emrys. Morgana's forces are a threat to us all and an affront to all that is good in this world. We will fight at your side as always and ensure that Morgana's spies never infiltrate Camelot again."

Alright, there was... a lot for Gwaine to unpack there.

First of all, the scary bald man's name was apparently Alator, so that was good to know. He claimed to be allied with Merlin against Morgana, which gave Gwaine some relief.

However, as Gwaine's mind put the pieces together, he wanted to scream with frustration. Merlin was consorting with dangerous sorcerers behind Arthur's back in order to protect Camelot! It was a move so selfless yet foolish that only Merlin could pull it off.

Still, these sorcerers didn't seem hostile towards Merlin at all, so Gwaine could work with that. He just needed a little bit more information on them, some way to confirm that they really were on Merlin's side on not double crossing his friend.

So, Gwaine crept closer into the camp, trying to see what they were up to now that Merlin was gone. He didn't see anything incriminating just yet, but that didn't mean that they were free of any nefarious plans.

Gwaine inched closer and closer into the camp, his eyes trained on the men who were probably sorcerers going about their evening chores in the camp. Gwaine so focused on his targets, in fact, that he didn't register that there was someone behind him until he felt blow to the back of his head and fell unconscious.

As Gwaine woke up, his first thought was that the pounding in his head was just a hangover, which was not by any means an unusual occurrence for Gwaine. That idea was quickly disproven as, when Gwaine tried to raise his hands to his head to try and alleviate his massive headache, he realized that his hands were bound. Once again, this wasn't necessarily an unusual situation for Gwaine, but it did cause him to freeze up with alarm as he remembered where he was and what he was doing before everything went black.

When Gwaine was finally able to peel his eyes open, he was greeted with the sight of several angry-looking men, including their intimidating leader whom Merlin had spoken to. What was his name... ah yes, Alator!

Putting on his friendliest and most innocent smile, Gwaine immediately tried to talk his way out of the situation. It had worked for him in similar situations, so why not give it a shot?

"Well, hello there gentlemen! I was just here looking for my buddy Merlin, have you seen him? Lanky fellow, dark hair, always wearing a neckerchief? A great guy, really, you'd know if you had met him!"

Gwaine scrutinized each of his captors' reactions to Merlin's name. Maybe this way he could find out what their intentions with Merlin. However, all of their expressions remained stubbornly neutral, except for Alator, who simply blinked at the mention of Merlin.

After an awkwardly long silence, Gwaine again tried to get some sort of reaction out of these mysterious men.

"I could have sworn I saw him heading this way, and I got worried about him, ya know? What kind of friend would I be if I let him wander around the forest at night all by himself! He's the kindest person I know, but he can somehow find himself in trouble at any time."

Again, much to Gwaine's rising frustration, Alator simply blinked. After another awkward pause, Alator finally responded.

"You are a knight of Camelot, correct? And you hold Emrys is high regard?"

Gwaine frowned at the seemingly random questions, but he figured it couldn't hurt to keep the conversation rolling, especially if it can get him some answers. Admitting to being a knight of Camelot in front of a bunch of potentially dangerous sorcerer might not be the best move, but they were willingly working with King Arthur's personal manservant, so these guys must not have that much of an issue with Camelot, right?

"Why yes, I am a knight of Camelot! Sir Gwaine, at your service! Based on your question, I assume that Emrys is some nickname you have for Merlin?"

In response to his question, Alator merely gave a single, solemn nod. Man, this group really needed to work on their communication skills.

"In that case, I do hold Emrys in very high regard! In fact, I'd say he's the best person I've ever met!"

Finally, that comment got a reaction out of them! As soon as Gwaine told them about how much he values Merlin, the men in front of him started nodding and murmuring amongst themselves. Gwaine hoped that they were happy about having a common friend and not plotting ways to kill him.

After reaching some consensus, the men all turned towards Gwaine simultaneously, which sent a shiver down Gwaine's back. What were they planning?

Alator then waved his hand, and his eyes flashed gold, confirming Gwaine's suspicions that he was dealing with sorcerers. Gwaine flinched back and braced himself for whatever spell had just been sent his way...

Only to feel the chains binding him fall to the ground, leaving him free and unharmed. Gwaine glanced down to check that he was, in fact, still in one piece before staring at Alator in shock.

"I can sense the honesty in your heart as you speak Emrys's praises. Know that any friend of Emrys is a friend to us. We apologize for our previous behavior, as we did not know that you were also an ally of Emrys. Please, join us for a cup of tea so we can discuss this further."

Gwaine, reeling from his host's sudden change in attitude, let them maneuver him outside and give him a seat at their campfire, with Alator and his men sitting with him around the fire.

Gwaine looked around at his hosts, who sat silently around the fire, not even talking amongst themselves. The silence made Gwaine's nerves stand on end, so he decided to fill that silence himself. He might as well get to know his gracious hosts and fellow friends of Merlin, right?

"So, who are you guys? How did you meet Merlin? Hey, maybe we can compare stories of him! Let me tell you, I've got some crazy stories to share about adventures he's dragged me on!"

The men sitting around him shared a silent look at each other before Alator answered.

"We are the Catha, masters of combat and one of the last surviving sects of priests of the Old Religion. I am Alator, the leader of the Catha. I first met Emrys when I betrayed Morgana to follow a better, more peaceful path. Emrys showed us that Morgana's hatred lies opposed to the will of the gods, and we chose to place our loyalty in him instead. What stories do you have concerning Emrys?"

Gwaine nodded, feeling a strange sort of relatability to these intimidating magic-wielding warrior priests. They, like him, were on a path of meaningless destruction and found a better life by meeting Merlin.

"Ah, I can remember meeting Merlin like it was yesterday! There I was, drowning my sorrows in a tavern, when in walks a skinny looking guy and his pompous friend! They got into trouble pretty quickly, and I couldn't miss out on all that fun! I jumped into the tavern brawl to help them, but I got pretty banged up in the process. But, it turned out that it was my lucky day, because wouldn't you know it, I had accidentally saved the life of the prince of Camelot himself!

I didn't think much of prince Arthur at the time, but his manservant sure made a great impression! He brought me back to Camelot on his own horse, took me to the royal physician, gave up his own bed to me for the night so I could recover, and then covered for me after I got drunk off my ass in the tavern, again.

But then some jackasses posing as knights tried to hurt Merlin, and I stepped in to defend him and wound up getting banished by Uther, but then Arthur welcomed me back and even made me a knight when he became prince regent! And I've been lucky enough to have Merlin at my side ever since!"

Gwaine watched as many of the men's eyes widened at his story, unsure of what exactly they were so shocked by.

"You mean to say that you stood up to Uther Pendragon, the mad butcher king, for Emrys's sake? And came back to his side as soon as you could despite the threat of death hanging over your head?"

"Well, I did manage to see Merlin on one other occasion while I was banished, but he sought me out for that one. Apparently Arthur was having some trouble on his big quest to the Perilous Lands, so Merlin called me in as backup."

The Catha started whispering amongst themselves at that, with even Alator leaning forward in interest.

"Emrys specifically sought out your skills on such a monumental quest? You understand the significance of such an honor?"

Gwaine nodded, his expression shifting from a wistful one to a much more serious one.

"Of course I understand. Merlin's such an amazing person, and it shocks me every time that he thinks I'm someone worth relying on. Still, that only motivates me to not let him down. He saw something in me that no one else did, not even me, and he found a way to bring it to the surface. He changed my life, gave me a purpose, and I will never underestimate how much he's done for me."

This time, all of the Catha were nodding their heads in approval of Gwaine's appreciation for Merlin.

"You truly do see the significance of Emrys, Sir Gwaine. I can see your loyalty towards him clearly. For that, I would like to make you an offer.

Emrys's enemies are our enemies, and there are many of them. Morgana's forces grow stronger by the day, and we can only do so much with how few of us are left. Emrys himself faces many dangers, and we cannot always protect him as much as we'd like, seeing as how we cannot enter the city of Camelot. You, however, are at Emrys's side every day.

In working towards our shared goals, will you work alongside us to protect Emrys and keep Morgana's forces at bay? We can provide you with training that will put you far ahead of any of your peers and weapons that shall make you a formidable opponent to even the most powerful sorcerers. Will you accept our offer?"

"Ah, I see now. It was you lot who have been following Merlin around recently! Well, that certainly gives me quite a bit of relief, knowing that he isn't being followed around by someone who'd want to hurt him. I'd be happy to join in on your mission to protect Merlin!"

The Catha started murmuring approvingly amongst themselves at Gwaine's acceptance, until Alator spoke again.

"That is wonderful. It is an honor to be able to work alongside a warrior held in such high esteem by Emrys himself."

As Gwaine shook Alator's hand, accepting his offer, he got the feeling that this was the start of an amazing alliance.

And it sure was. Over the next months, Gwaine trained alongside the warrior priests whenever he could, becoming accustomed to their stoic natures and silent demeanors. They taught him fighting styles that he had never even heard of before and gave him information on people who were trying to hurt Merlin, allowing him to keep an eye on and eliminate threats to his friend before they had the chance to strike.

The Catha figured out pretty early on that Gwaine was rubbish at learning anything about magic itself, but when they placed enchanted weapons in his hands, he could wield them effortlessly and adapt his combat style to whatever the effects of the enchantment were. He even got a sword that could burst into flames!

As Gwaine's abilities to wield stronger enchanted weapons improved, the Catha started letting him fight the powerful sorcerers that Morgana sent into Camelot. Soon enough, he was equipped with indestructible armor armor that could repel spells and curses, weapons with some of the most formidable enchantments that the Catha could muster, and even a growing reputation throughout the land!

Luckily, the helmet that the Catha provided him with obscured his identity, so no reports of a rogue and enchantment-wielding Sir Gwaine made their way back to Arthur, as funny as that would be. Still, reports of the "indominable magic knight" that had defeated some of Morgana's most powerful sorcerers made their way across the land, even into Camelot's court. Some council members wished to capture the unknown knight and kill him before he became a threat, while others saw an opportunity to make a powerful ally against Morgana, and Arthur was constantly on the fence between those two arguments while Gwaine sat at the round table, quietly smug.

Meanwhile, Merlin, checking in with the Catha: What's this I hear about a warrior using powerful magic weapons to fight Morganas men?

Alator: Don't worry, Emrys. He's one of ours, fighting against Morgana in your name. He's one of your most devout followers in fact.

Merlin, not wanting to meet another Emrys fanboy who looks at him like he's a god: Uh, just tell him to keep up the good work and to let me know if he needs anything.

Soon after reports of the magic knight made their way to a very conflicted court of Camelot, Morgana sought out the magic knight, ready to either kill him for being such a nuisance or make an ally out of him. After all, surely a knight wielding such powerful magic would never be on the side of Camelot?

However, when Morgana managed to trap the magical knight and surround him with an army of a hundred sorcerers, the knight managed to defeat her and her entire army before escaping. He rained down fire and lightning upon them, the very elements fighting alongside him, as he cut down her army and left her defeated and humiliated.

Of course, reports of Morgana's defeat travelled to Camelot, where the court was even more incensed over the topic of the magical knight. He was capable of beating Morgana, surely he would be a great ally and could ensure Camelot's protection! But he was also now a magic-wielding threat even more powerful than Morgana! Sure he was now the foremost threat to Camelot!

In the end, Arthur and some of his most trusted knights decided to go on a quest to seek out this magical knight. Gwaine wasn't particularly worried, because how could they possibly find him if he was already travelling with them?

During the journey though, they receive word of a magical beast terrorizing nearby villages. The knights all try to fight the beast, but to little success, and it even managed to injure Merlin's leg before escaping!

Merlin's injury turned out to be not life-threatening, but he couldn't stand on his leg for very long. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Merlin entrusted Lancelot with slaying the beast after his injury, enchanting Lancelot's sword so that it could kill a creature of magic and his chainmail so that he wouldn't be hurt by its claws.

Gwaine, meanwhile, was furious with the creature and, that night, summoned his enchanted armor and weapons to go slay the beast and maybe give its head to Merlin as an apology for being unable to stop it from hurting him. Or maybe he would just treat Merlin to a night at the tavern when they got back.

So, Lancelot and Gwaine both tracked down the beast that knight. When they both arrived at the beast's lair with visibly enchanted weapons, they take each other by surprise. Lancelot is on guard, unsure if he wants to trust the now-infamous magic knight, but Gwaine just laughs and removes his helmet, and Lancelot is shocked.

Lancelot and Gwaine seeing each other with enchanted gear: spiderman pointing meme

Gwaine asks Lancelot where he got that enchanted sword, but Lancelot is tight-lipped about it, just saying he got it because he needed to protect Merlin. Gwaine chuckled and said that he understood.

After they finish slaying the beast together, Lancelot asks Gwaine if Merlin knows that he's the magic knight. Gwaine shrugs and says that he suspects that Merlin doesn't know, but wouldn't mind it if Merlin did know.

Lancelot, as soon as they get back to Camelot: So, did you know that Gwaine is actually the magic knight?

Merlin, spitting out his tea and having flashbacks to his conversation with Alator: HE'S WHAT NOW?!

Things get cleared up between Lancelot, Merlin, and Gwaine pretty quickly from there. Gwaine takes the magic reveal very well, excited at the prospect of going on magical adventures with Merlin and glad that his friend can actually defend himself, because he's rubbish with any type of weapon.

From there though, a sort of friendly competition sprung up between Gwaine and Lancelot, as both of them consider themself to be Merlin's best friend. Soon enough, there's two magical knights running around foiling Morgana's plans, and Arthur's ready to tear his hair out over it.

From there, more knights figure out about Merlin's magic and, if they're accepting of it, they also train with the Catha and receive enchanted weapons. It almost becomes its own secret society within the knights, all united with the sole purpose of protecting Merlin. They eventually have Elyan, Percival, and number one Emrys fanboy Mordred join their ranks.

Arthur eventually finds out approximately where the magical knights are hidden (their meeting spot when they need to meet outside of Camelot), and he sends Leon in disguise to infiltrate them, not knowing that they are knights from Camelot. Being the knights of the round table, they of course recognize Leon immediately and give him the full story, and Leon joins them and just tells Arthur that he "couldn't find the magical knights."

Gwaine laughs his ass off at every round table meeting where Arthur becomes more and more frustrated at not being able to catch the magical knights, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Merlin having a good laugh over it too.

And I'll cut it off there for now! I had lots of fun writing this, I feel like I should write about Gwaine more often!

Let me know if you would like me to write a continuation for this au!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[slvtforfiction]

I love your blog. There’s like no Jake content out there. Could I request a Jake smut where the reader is inexperienced and shy🖤🖤🖤

☆ Ahhh thank you anon!!

☆ Ofcourse I can

☆ Jake Webber X Reader

☆ Smut

☆ Period sex!

☆ Masterlist

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

I laid in bed gripping my stomach whilst Jake was out.

My period cramps had been going crazy and I felt like someone was shooting me with an arrow every time one shot through my body.

I stayed with my stomach clutched tightly whilst I heard the door click open and Jake greet me as he walked in.

"Hey baby." He put down the bag before noticing what I was doing,clutching my stomach with a sorrowful face.

"What's wrong love?" He asked, "Fucking period cramps." I groaned out,he nodded and grabbed some chocolate out of his bag.

"Thank you" I muttered towards him he nodded with a smile filled with empathy.

He sat on the bed next to me rubbing my leg up and down trying to comfort me with futile attempts.

"Is there anything else I can do?" He asked me with a small smile as he continued to rub my leg up and down.

"Not really!" I said with a soft smile up at him,I knew there was period sex but I was a virgin and was sure it would hurt.

"You know I Uh-I read something online," he started to talk and I nodded my head hoping he was thinking the same as me.

"And apparently like sex is good for cramps? Like fingering?" He told me more of a question to ask if I was okay with where this was going.I nodded and smiled as he thought the same as I did.

"I'll be back then hang on." He told me before leaving the room.Whilst he was gone I propped myself up onto the pillows and sat up in the twin bed.

He came back with a red towel and I smiled at how much he knew,clearly having researched this before to help me.

He put the towel underneath me and asked if he could take off my shorts to which I nodded again,not wanting to speak much right now,I had always been shy and Jake knew that.

He began taking down my shorts as I continued to grip my stomach,though this time with less force as before.

"Let me take care of you, love, it's okay." He told me softly.That sparked something in me,realising how lucky I am to have this man.

"Are you still okay with this?" He asked me gently making sure I was comfortable,I nodded happily as he kissed my thighs.

“Are you sure sweetheart? I know it’s your first time,I know how nervous you’ve been.” He asked me again and I nodded my head.

This was my first time and I was scared,I had only dated Jake for about 4 months but I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my time on earth with him.

“I want my first time with you and only you.” I told him and with that he kissed me.

He kissed down my neck,worshiping my body and I completely forgot about my cramps that were killing me a moment before.

He then pressed one finger into my cunt and kept kissing my thighs as he pushed himself in.

"Are you okay, but I need words honey." He told me with one finger inside of me, "Yes,please." I whimpered out wanting the pain of my stupid cramps to go.

"Okay baby,tell me if you want me to stop." He told me knowing how nervous I had been to have sex at all.

I was a virgin but I knew he wasn’t and he was oh so gentle and made sure I was okay with everything he did.

I moaned out as he kept pushing his finger in and out making me melt and my cramps long gone.

I thought to myself about how his finger must be red with blood now but I was too immersed in pleasure to give a second thought about it.

I had always thought my first time would be as scary and painful as everyone else says but it wasn’t,it was nirvana.

I moaned out again as he slowly slipped a second finger in,by now my cramps had passed away for a while.

I lived in bliss as I felt my thighs shaking already."Needy baby?" Jake teased as I came around his fingers.

A series of moans came from me as I road out my high before panting to get my breathe back and leaned backwards.

He kept going,leaving me overstimulated but beyond happy that my period cramps were now nothing to even think of.

I babbled out incoherent moans and blissful tears from the overstimulation, crying out.

"I know baby,I know." He said quietly as if no one else was supposed to hear it,but I did and oh god did that almost send me into a spiral.

He was still going gently,helping me through each step and whispering sweet nothings to me before I threw myself into a spiral of an orgasm again.

I came down from my high as he removed his fingers leaving me whining for his touch again.

He left to go to the bathroom and grab some tissue paper to clean me up,he gently wiped my folds and went back to the bathroom to wash his hands and throw the tissue paper away.

He then went into the wardrobe and grabbed a panty liner and some panties along with some shorts for me.

I smiled at I watched him put the panty liner on perfectly before walking over to me. "Can I put these on you?" He asked so sweetly.

I nodded and he pulled the panties and the shorts up my legs securing them around my waist trying not to get blood on anything.

“Are you okay love?” He asked again for reassurance. “I promise.” I whispered back,already tired.

“How are you feeling?” He asked and I looked up at him. “I’m good,thank you,I’m sorry this was our first time.” I laughed and he looked down at me again.

“Baby don’t be sorry,you’re everything I’ve always wanted,I don’t care about the sex,I care about you.” He told me and I smiled to myself.

He pulled the towel away and threw it in the laundry basket saying something about worrying about it later,he pulled the covers over us and I cuddled up next to him with a smile as I fell into sleep.

[factual-fantasy]

28 Asks! Thank you! :}} 👑

@somcdonaldsamirite

I love The Amazing Digital Circus! :DD I just watched their most recent spooky episode as a matter of fact!

I will never emotionally recover :)

@neo-metalscottic (Cheshire cat post) (Spooky pair post)

AAAA THANK YOU! :DD I'm glad you liked them! :))

As for cookie run, it appears that I've made it to chapter 7..? Uh- the Forgotten Academy in story mode <:DD and my current auto team is this! :))

Crimson Coral and Stormbringer up front, Black Pearl in the middle alongside White Lily. Probably one of my favorite cookies thus far- and Pure Vanilla in the back! He's on his way to becoming my top favorite cookie :))

On another note, I'm glad you liked the Transformers movie! :D Perhaps I'll have to give it a go myself sometime..

Also lastly, my health.. I don't really have a timeline of when I'll get better. Over a dozen times throughout this 7 months I've thought "Oh this must be the solution! This nightmare is almost over! :D" only to find out that not only was I wrong and that didn't cure me. But my symptoms have gotten worse! :')👍

Its a very long process of waiting and experimenting unfortunately. I have another solution around the corner but I'm trying not to get my hopes up about it. I don't think I'm going to have recovered by the time I hit 30k..

But eh. That's alright. I have plans for it anyways. Thanks for checking in. <:)

@something3706

Yeah,, I've been battling some health issues for the past 7 months or so. Its been really hard and my life has been basically been put on hold because of it..

I'm working though it as best I can. And I'm hoping that I'm finally on my way out of this pit.. thank you for the hugs and well wishes <:')

(Link in question)

Oooo! :0 Thank you! I'll have to give it a watch! :}}

@metalmewtwo-kxb

AAAAAA THANK YOU!! :DDD I adore all the comments that say my post single handedly made people like Conkeldurr XDDD :}}}

Crazy how it says the source when my watermark clearly states that all reposts are stolen. No one that reposts my artwork has my permission.

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD The whole point of not making them talk was trying to convey emotions through body language. I'm so glad I've seemed to pull it off well! :}}]

I've seen a lot of people talking about, I've been considering it! :0

If you are able to, that is always appreciated <:/ thank you..

You mean Princess Peach showtime? So far I like the look of it on the surface! :0 Seems to fit her character better in my opinion.

Oh yeah I've seen a looooot of fanart about those characters. I plan to dig into each characters lore once I'm able to! :)

@thetiredpenguin

Ohhh okay, that's good to hear! I wont have any hang-ups about deleting OvenBreak then <XD

Also the third game I got was Tower of Adventure- I haven't heard of Witch's tower till just now.. but if both their lore's are unrelated to the Kingdom lore, then to heck with it! I'll probably uninstall Tower of adventurers too! <XDD

@llamagal21 (Referencing this post and this post!)

NOOOO MOMOOOOO 😭😭😭

I've actually already drawn this! :DDD

I've watched a Garfield show and seen a movie here and there.. they were alright :0

@spaceranger13

Oh- the FAQ is after the keep reading- but none the less I use FireAlpaca :))

Also WAHGG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD I'm so glad to hear that! :}}}

@i-only-created-this-to-read

My idea is that a lot of the OG slime rancher translates into the submas version. What I mean by this is that a lot of physical labor is involved when it comes to tending to the ranch and the slimes, despite the technology that they have. However the slimes and Tarrs have changed a bit..

While the slimes are more intelligent and only eat plorts when they intend to evolve, they can also eat as many plorts as they want without becoming a Tarr.

"Well then what are the Tarrs" you might ask? I was thinking that Tarrs are these beasts that are separate from slimes.. or at least the twins cant figure out what causes some slimes to turn into Tarrs..

@burnt-pie-eater

I've heard of it and seen a few YouTubers play the demo(?) but I unfortunately just cant get into it <XD All the characters voices get on my nerves and I don't really like the idea of them being these living anthropomorphic creatures..? I'm pretty FNAF coded so I would have preferred if their IRL counterparts were animatronics instead.. 😅

@mr-damian-s-power

I remember when I first made my version of DK I considered the Bros giving him a tie or DK making one of his own.. but I never got around to it.

I can imagine DK wouldn't be comfortable with something being tied around his neck all the time, especially if its bright red.. might make him and the other kongs think of blood, you know?

If the brothers gave him something like that I can see him tying it around his wrist instead or giving it to Diddy for him to use. :0

(In response to this post)

Yeaaaahhhh,,, its gets confusing fast. I'm hoping the post I made helps clear it up for some people though <:)

@gaillol-13

I have not <:/ google seems to suggest its a movie..? :0

@sillygoblinmantics

XD Great minds think alike! :)

@thesillyguyy

I feel like a curse has just been casted on me

This post I made a while back shows/talks about the plans I have for my version of King Boo/Luigi's mansion :0

As far as I've planned, E.gadd and Polterpup are not apart of my AU. Its just King Boos and his Boos living out in a random mansion out in the woods :0000

XDD Noooooo she's not a cannibal!!

@air-conditioning-unit

Thank you,, I'm in the process of waiting for stuff atm. But I'm hoping my symptoms improve soon.. <:(

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad to hear you like my sona's design! :))

@dunkudunk

Zorua's lore is still being thought over.. but I'm thinking that her mom was attacked by something and killed.. Zorua managed to escape with mostly minimal injuries all things considered. Soon after she ran into Conkeldurr and he took her under his wing. They've been together ever since..

I've sure tried 😅 but cars are really hard to draw!

[starrayblogs]

Please hsc tmnt2012 x reader in which the reader, during an argument, impulsively tells the turtle that he is a monster/mutant/mistake something like that, immediately realizes it and apologizes profusely, how do they react

ohhhh i've read so many scenarios like this back in like 2016 and they were the WORST– like they made me feel so horrible reading them because why would you call my boys that!!?

anyway, history repeats itself so i hope you get sad over this one too teehee. if someone asks for a reconciliation to this hcs, i'll probably do it :D

anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

pairings: (2012) leonardo x reader, raphael x reader, donatello x reader, and michelangelo x reader (gender neutral)

will include: angst

The mission went wrong in all possible ways. You had messed up your part of the mission and it ended up jeopardizing the entire plan. To add, you were injured in the battle and your favorite turtle had to come save you.

You were beginning to wish he hadn't.

He was lecturing you in his room, telling you all the things you should've done, should've avoided, and he just kept going on and on with this and that. You tried to defend yourself too.

However, it just became a pointless argument. You were heated and, then, you said something you didn't mean to...

Leonardo

"What did you expect, Leo!? I'm just a human with regular human abilities! You're a freak!" You yelled, standing up from his bed and pointing a finger at him.

You gasp. Your hands quickly cover your mouth as your face paints with guilt.

Leo blinks his eyes at you for a bit before dipping his head down. "Please, leave," he turns his back to you before pointing to the direction of his door. "Leave right now." He orders quietly.

when you finally leave the room, he rushes to the door and slides down with his shell against it. this way, you can't push his door open. not when he's pushing up against it

leo is the type to dwell on situations until it's been resolved. from what you yelled at him that night, this would never resolve

he makes sure to keep himself hidden as much as possible when you're down in the sewer after that. which is mostly locking himself in his room to meditate instead of the dojo.

if he does happen to bump into you, he does everything to hide his face at least before slipping back in the shadows. like freaks are used to do

he doesn't have the confidence to confront you either. he's fully convinced that when you don't try to talk to him again, that you really think he's a freak. that you don't want him in your life

every time that he meditates, all he can think about was the time you called him a freak. every time that he spars, all he can think of was that. it occupies his thoughts so badly

it makes him act irrational on patrols; he would yell at his brothers at the slightest slip up or beat up a kraangdroid longer than he should, and then he sees it-

his reflection in the metal. eyes white, teeth bared, and mask furrowed. he blinks and stumbles back as a cry locks itself in the middle of his throat. you were right, he is a freak

Raphael

"I'm injured, Raph! I'm clearly not in the mood to be scolded right now! What kind of monster do you have to be!?" You scream at him, jabbing a finger to his chest momentarily.

"Wha- monster!?" He growls.

"Yeah, yeah you are! You're a big, big, horrible, and rude monster!!!" You blow up in his face. He releases a sharp 'ha!' and grabs you by your shoulders, to which you grab him by the wrists.

It's no use pushing him back, considering he's much stronger. So the argument ends with you overlapping each other as Raph pushes you outside his room.

Only then do you realize what you said to him when he releases your shoulders. You were so blinded by your own anger than you didn't see the small shine in his eyes. Tears.

"Raph-" The door slams in your face.

he listens for your footsteps to tell if you've left or not. once you're gone, he tears up his room.

the entire sewer city of new york could probably hear him break his punching dummy, ripping comics, and screaming his lungs out. they hear everything but one thing, which is him crying

he spends his days going through different sewer pipes because his family got tired of him breaking things in the lair. he spends his day blaming you; telling himself that you were the one in the wrong

but at night, when he's tired himself out from wrecking and crying, he takes it all back. you were right, he is a monster

raph is the type to beat his sadness out to pass it off as anger until his tired and admits himself that he is sad. he's sad that you see him that way, and that you were correct

when he hears you're in the lair at night, he goes silent. he's the type to not want to be seen or heard by you again, because he's afraid that he'll just show you just how much of a monster he is again

Donatello

"Why don't you just go bug off, Donnie?! I'm sure an animal like yourself can do that!" In your outburst, you accidentally knock over a beaker. When it shatters on the ground, you realize what you've said.

You look to the turtle. He looked so sad. His mask was slightly furrowed, his mouth just a tad open, and his eyes glossy. He didn't look just sad, no– he looked hurt. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but he speaks first.

"Excuse me..." Donnie leaves the room with his head down.

donnie's obviously the type to drown himself in work to try and think about anything but the problem

however, he drowns himself in work for you. he tries to make trinkets, machines, and other sorts of gifts in hopes that you would forgive him when he gives it

but every time, without fail, he works on these projects, he hears you calling him an animal

he can't possibly do anything by himself, like an animal. he can only be reckless and thoughtless, like an animal.

animal, animal, animal- he didn't notice how loud his thoughts were and how it overtook his actions. he broke the gift he was making in the middle of it.

he cries about it for hours. and that's the cycle everyday. he tries to make a gift but he ends up breaking it because he gets in over his head, and he cries until he's tired

when he hears you down at the lair, he slides his bo in between the lab's doors. he cages himself inside that room, because, just like you said, he's an animal

Michelangelo

"You don't stop talking, do you, Mikey? Blah blah blah, ugh– you big-mouthed mutant!" You yell at him. You're panting heavily as he stared at you from the other side of the room. Silence.

Oh no.

"Mutant?" Mikey echoes your words, shakily. He had tears in his eyes but he closes them. He shakes his head and grabs a comic book, throwing it in your direction.

"Mikey, wai-"

"No! Get out my room!" His voice cracks in the middle of begging. He keeps throwing the nearest object near him at you, in an effort to push you out the room without touching you. "Get out!" His final cry has you dashing out the lair.

mikey loses all color in his personality after that. he would spend hours and hours at a time on his bed, curling himself up in a ball while crying

he never thought you saw him like that. he thought you were the pepperoni on his pizza, that you paired perfectly together. that's why you got along so well

his brothers try to get him back on his feet by inviting him back into his hobbies, but every time he would try- he'd start crying in the middle of it

because he'd think of how you two would do that activity together, but now all he can think of was that you saw him as a mutant. he's not human, so why is he doing these activities like he was?

whenever you two bump into each other at the lair, he tucks into his shell. he can hear you calling his name, but he doesn't pop out. that would show you more just how inhuman he is, how he's a mutant

mikey is the type to shut you out and refuse to interact with you. after all he's a mutant, and you're a human

what kind of pair is that? the imperfect one, he tells himself as he cries and curls into himself on his bed

[jazz-berry]

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼

Luke Cooper x fem!reader

~For my fellow non-coffee drinkers~

Fluff

“Coffee monkey’s arrived”

Your coworkers start to quiet down as Luke arrives with everybody's coffee orders, which are guaranteed to be wrong. You don't drink coffee so thankfully you don't get annoyed, just continuing to work at your desk as you hear all of your coworkers groan.

As Luke approaches you after delivering everyone's coffee, he makes no attempt to hide a mischievous grin. He holds out a cup in his left hand and places an espresso-like beverage on your desk with his right.

"Hey y/n, here's your double-shot half-decaf with steamed 2% milk mocha, no whip."

He winks with sarcasm in his voice and tone, knowing this can't possibly be your go-to morning drink.

You just stare at the cup. "You can have it" you murmur after a few moments, looking back at your computer without sparing a glance at Luke. You're the only worker besides him that's actually young.

"You sure, y/n? I'd be pretty disappointed if my only young coworker rejected my kind gesture." Luke is clearly still teasing, but he also has a bit of a flirty tone.

"Coffee's gross" you deadpan. Indeed, you've always hated the bitter taste

Luke smirks, clearly amused by your blunt response.

"Then what do you drink in the morning, hmm?"

you shrug, not speaking out loud as you type on your computer. It's not that you're cold or anything. No, you're just really shy and introverted, unlike most of the people that work at the office.

Luke stands there awkwardly for a few minutes, observing your concentrated typing while sipping his own coffee. He notices how shy and quiet you are, and a part of him is intrigued.

After another few minutes of awkward silence while you work, Luke finally speaks up.

"So...do you.. like...have a boyfriend or anything?"

your hands freeze on the keyboard, and you lift your head up, looking at Luke baffled. "No..." you say softly, a blush forming on your face and you quickly look back at your computer screen

Luke smirks upon seeing the blush on your cheeks. It's clear he's successfully flustered you.

"Really? No boyfriend?"

His voice is a mixture of genuine curiosity and teasing. He obviously finds your reaction amusing, but there's also a slight hint of interest in his questioning.

"Nope" you murmur

Luke can't help but chuckle a little at your short and embarrassed response.

"Oh, come on, y/n. You're too pretty to be single. What's the deal?"

you shrug softly. Noticing your shrug, he leans in closer and lowers his voice, as if he's about to reveal a well-kept secret.

"You know...if you don't want coffee in the morning, I could get you something else. Like tea, a smoothie, or a juice, maybe? You can make requests, and l'll be like your own personal barista."

Luke, in spite of his laziness and immaturity, is actually genuinely trying to show effort. You look back up at him "You're just gonna mess it up on purpose"

Luke puts on a sarcastic, offended expression and mock pouts at your response.

"Me? You think l'd purposefully mess up an order? Wow, I didn't know you thought so little of me." In reality, he totally would and has been doing so on purpose, but he pretends to look hurt by your bluntness.

you just stare at Luke with a deadpanned expression. Everyone knows he messes up your coworkers' coffee orders on purpose and just be acts like a lazy intern

Luke lets out a sigh and finally drops the facade of being offended. He realizes that there's no point in trying to deny it.

"Okay, fine. You're right, I've been messing up on purpose. But it's just so much more entertaining that way, you know? The looks on everyone's faces are priceless."

you just look at Luke as if you're disappointed, which makes him feel like a child being scolded. His face drops. He's not used to someone so young scolding him like this. It's clear you're unimpressed with his pranks and laziness. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. He's a bit embarrassed and decides to attempt a sincere apology.

"Alright, alright, I won't mess up the orders anymore. At least, not yours. How's that?"

you still look unamused. Luke is a bit flustered by your persistent expression. He can tell that you're not going to let him off the hook so easily.

"Alright. Sheesh. I get it. No more pranks. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, y/n? Some way to win your forgiveness? What can I do to turn that frown upside down and get you to smile?"

His tone is slightly mocking, but he's also somewhat genuine. He can't help but find her dedication to others somewhat endearing.

your eyes soften and you shake your head "No I'm okay, but thank you for stopping the pranks" you say genuinely and smile sweetly at Luke for the first time before looking back at your computer

Luke is taken aback by the sight of your genuine smile, and he's surprised to find himself blushing a bit at your sweetness. He tries to hide his flustered reaction by coughing and clearing his throat.

"Uhh, yeah, no problem...happy to do it. I mean, you're the only one here who actually treats me with respect instead of yelling at me all the time."

Luke's words sound sincere, as if he genuinely appreciates your understanding and politeness.

"I get why the others yell at you though" you say playfully, seeming to warm up to Luke. He laughs softly, grateful for the playful banter.

"I know, I know. Some of them take life a bit too seriously, don't they? What do you think? Who's the most uptight worker in the office?"

"Dwight" you immediately respond and look back up from your computer to make eye contact with Luke. He chuckles and nods in agreement.

"Oh, yeah, no doubt about that. Dwight is on a whole other level of uptight. But let's not forget Oscar. He can be pretty serious and uptight at times, too, just in a different way." He thinks for a moment, then grins. "But if you really want to hear about uptight coworkers, you should hear about how Phyllis gets when you mess with her."

you scoff lightly "I already do, she spent a whole week complaining about how you didn't send her papers to a client"

Luke snickers softly at the memory, finding amusement in the situation. "Oh, man, you should have seen her face when I misplaced those papers. She was so pissed, I thought she was gonna explode. She just wouldn't shut up about it for days. It was hilarious."

you roll your eyes but smile in amusement. Luke notices and takes it as a positive sign.

"Hey, there's that smile again. See, I knew you'd warm up to me eventually!" He grins teasingly, clearly pleased to have gotten on your good side. His playful teasing continues, but there's a hint of genuine affection in his tone.

you continue smiling. "Bubble tea" you state simply. Luke is confused for a moment until he realizes you’re talking about what you want him to get you since you don’t like coffee. He raises his eyebrows in surprise but then nods with a smirk.

"Bubble tea, huh? Well, well, look at you. Not just a pretty face, but also good taste in drinks. I can definitely handle that request. Anything in particular you want, or are you gonna leave that up to me?"

"Just anything fruity" you say. You don't want anything too sweet or too herbal, just any kind of fruit flavor. Luke nods in understanding and grins.

"Got it, got it. Anything fruity, but not too sweet, and no herbal bullshit. I've got just the thing in mind. Trust me, your taste buds will thank me. I'll go grab it for you right now." With that, he turns and heads off to get your requested drink.

Luke returns to the office half an hour later and places down a peach boba on your desk. You look up at him, surprised but also pleased that he actually listened. "Thank you" you say kindly and start unwrapping the straw before placing it into the lid and taking a sip

He grins as he watches you enjoy the boba he got for you. He can see the surprise and appreciation on your face, and it makes him happy to know that you're actually pleased with his gesture.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it. See, I told you I had good taste." His voice is filled with pride and playfulness as he proudly claims credit for choosing the right drink for you.

you smile and nod in agreement. "I don't drink bubble tea everyday though, I also like smoothies or a milkshake" you say to Luke, letting him know what he can get for you when he go gets everyone else's coffee orders

He listens intently and takes mental notes of your beverage preferences. He appreciates that you've given him some variety.

"Smoothies and milkshakes. Got it. I promise that next time, I'll get you something equally as delicious as this peach bubble tea." His voice is sincere as he commits to remembering your preferred drinks.

The next day, Luke arrives in the office with everyone's coffee orders. They're all shocked when they realize it's actually the right orders. Luke walks over to your desk and places down a berry smoothie. The office workers gawk in amazement as they see Luke arriving with their correct coffee orders. They exchange baffled glances and whispers, wondering how this lazy intern could suddenly get everything right.

When he places the smoothie on your desk, you look up and smile at him. "Thank you Luke, and good morning" you greet him softly.

Luke grins back at you as he places the drink down.

"You're welcome, y/n. And good morning to you, too. Glad to see you looking as pretty as always, even in the morning." His tone is playful and teasing like usual, but there's also genuine fondness behind his words.

you then look down at your desk and open a drawer, taking out a small tin before closing the drawer again. You look at Luke shyly. "Um I wanted to show my appreciation for you actually starting to try" you explain shyly with a blush and grab a raspberry macaroon from the tin, holding it out to Luke. He stares at the treat in surprise. Macaroons are definitely not a beginner thing and the one you made looks amazing.

"Whoa. Is that for me? No way. You made these?"

Luke is amazed at the small and delicate pastry you've offered him. He can't believe that the shy girl sitting at the desk made something so beautiful and delicious-looking. "Are you sure you want to give something so nice to someone like me?"

you nod. "It's nothing, I always bake for fun" you explain bashfully, seeming embarrassed by the interaction and feeling like you're doing something silly

Luke shakes his head in awe, clearly impressed.

"What do you mean 'nothing? This is incredible. And you just bake pastries for fun? Like, as a hobby?"

He can't believe that this quiet girl he's been teasing has such a hidden talent and passion. It's clear that her shyness is masking some real skill and creativity.

you nod again in response, still being bashful. Luke gently takes the macaroon from you, careful not to break it. He looks at it with admiration before taking a bite, letting the raspberry filling and delicate texture hit his taste buds.

"Holy shit, this is incredible. Seriously, this is one of the best things I've ever eaten." He looks sincerely stunned as he tastes the macaroon.

“If you can just whip up something like this on a whim, maybe you'd be better off as a professional chef than an office worker.”

your beautiful eyes seems to shine at Luke's praise. “Thank you” you say quietly and blush again

“No, thank YOU. It's not every day a girl gives you a handmade pastry as a way to show appreciation. I'm honestly flattered.” He grins and playfully winks at her before taking another bite of the macaroon, enjoying the sweet and fruity taste even more than before. you continue blushing before looking down at the smoothie and unwrapping the straw so you can drink it. You put the tin of macaroons back in your drawer before sipping on the drink and turning back to your computer as Luke finishes the macaroon.

He savors every bit of the macaroon until it's finally gone. He lets out a satisfied sigh and glances over at you. “That was seriously amazing. I had no idea you were such a talented baker, y/n. You should start a business or something. People would kill for a macaroon that delicious.” He grins as he takes in your blushing and slightly flustered demeanor. It seems his words have an effect on you, making you even cuter.

you shake your head in denial, still looking at your computer screen as you respond to Luke “I'm a girl in my 20s who just graduated college, I need this job”

Luke chuckles softly and nods, understanding your perspective. He leans against your desk, still watching as you type on her computer.

“Well, fair enough. Everyone's gotta start somewhere, right? But hey, don't let that stop you from pursuing your passion in the future. Maybe once you've established yourself in the world of office work, you can open up a little bakery on the side or something. Just keep making macaroons as delicious as this one, and you'll have customers lining up around the block.”

“I barely ever make macaroons, I usually do easier stuff” you mumble.

The intern raises his eyebrows, clearly intrigued by this revelation. “Really? But these were so good, I assumed you must make them all the time. What kind of other stuff do you bake then? Now I'm curious.”

you shrug “Cookies most often. But also bread, cakes... oh I also make waffles a lot”

Luke's mouth waters at the mention of all the delicious treats you’re capable of making. “Cookies, bread, cakes, and waffles? Damn, y/n. You're basically a one-woman bakery. I'd pay top dollar for a taste of all that.” He playfully leans in slightly, clearly impressed by your baking skills.

you just chuckle softly while typing something on your computer “Thanks but it's not like I do it all the time, just a hobby I do maybe once a month”

Luke smirks, amused by your bashfulness. “Once a month? Still, that's more than most people do. I sure as hell haven't baked anything in months, probably years. So you're still ahead of the game in terms of being a baker, even if it's just a hobby.”

you stop typing on your computer for a moment to look back up at Luke. “I could teach you how to bake something if you want?” you suggest shyly, doubting that baking is something that the intern is interested in.

Luke's face lights up with surprise and excitement at your offer. He wasn't expecting such a generous invitation.

“Really? You'd be willing to teach me? I mean, I'm not exactly the baking type, but it seems like a cool skill to have.” He scratches the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed, but also thrilled at the opportunity. “Sure, yeah, I actually wanna give it a shot. Count me in.”

you widen your eyes in shock. “You don't have to if you don't want to” you stutter in embarrassment.

Luke waves off your concerns with a dismissive hand gesture. “Nah, nah, nah. Don't worry about me. I mean it. I'll try anything once. Plus, I can't pass up an opportunity to spend some quality time with a cutie like you.” He grins mischievously, clearly enjoying teasing you as he accepts the offer.

you blush shyly “When do you wanna learn then?”

“Well I'm free this Saturday afternoon. How about we meet up at your place and start with something simple? I assume you have plenty of baking equipment and stuff like that. Plus, I can't wait to see what kind of magic you can create in the kitchen.” He smirks teasingly, clearly intrigued by the idea of seeing her in a domestic setting.

you nod in agreement. “Any ideas what you wanna learn?” you ask softly. Luke leans in slightly, pretending to give the question some serious thought. “Hmm, let's see... Well, I've always been a fan of chocolate chip cookies. I figure those can't be too hard to make, right? That's my vote, if it's not too basic for a baking pro like you. Plus, who doesn't love chocolate chip cookies?” He smiles playfully and raises his eyebrows, waiting for your response.

your eyes seem to brighten at the suggestion and you nod excitedly "That works for me"

Luke grins at your enthusiasm and gives you a thumbs up.

"Perfect. Chocolate chip cookies it is. I can already taste them in my imagination. I'll show up at your place on Saturday afternoon, and the cookie-making extravaganza will begin."

He flashes you a playful wink before walking away to get back to his office duties, secretly excited about the upcoming baking lesson.

Should I do a part two about the baking lesson that Saturday afternoon? ♡

part two now available

@lemoniiiiiii @tiffysdeath @n0tonlin3 @marchsfreakshow @evanpeterswifeyyy @evvyyypeters-fics @icedheartss @vizjpmdose @tatelangdonsweater @vfromvandalista @lacucarachapisser @majestyjade @strawb3rrystar @whosbloom @violetsghosts @colinzabelswife @divinerulersslut @americanwh0rerstory @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @tiffysdeath @mooniehoneyrey @oceanblvd111 @dearlizzies @urmomsg1rlfreind @darlingmarch @miss-skinnybones @mrs-peters @giuliiitzz00 @juliamaximoff

[edledamianfan]

Small dumb jondami omegaverse idea. I have nothing else to give

New recruit: What goings on here?

Jai: The old married couple are arguing again

NR: Oh.. So okay?

Jon: Have you realized I've been using the same shirt and pants for THREE DAYS STRAIGHT DAME?!

Damian: I have eyes you buffoon. You look like a beggar... when was the last time you showered?

Jon: I DID. LIKE TWO HOURS AGO

Damian: *Raises eyesbrows, eyes going up and down judgementally*

Jon: *scoffs* please i have no clothes left. I just tokd you, Dame I need my clothes back

Damian: ... No

Jon: DAME PLEASE I HAVE NO CLEAN OR DIRTY CLOTHES LEFT YOU TOOK THEM ALL FOR YOUR NEST. *points to his nest filled with his clothes*

Damian: *raises eyebrow* It's not a lot

Jon: *Are you serious look*

Damian: Besides- *about to retort*

Jon: Alright then just let me have some of this back

Damian: *panic* No i need that for my infrastructure!

Jai: Its like having first class seat on a romantic comedy tv show

Irey: Oh yeah fr

NR: Oh

Irey: Oh yeah its awesome *eats popcorn*

Jon: YOU KEEP INSULTING ME WHEN YOU'RE CLEARLY ON THE WRONG HERE DAME. STOP TAKING ALL MY CLOTHES I NEED SOME-

Damian: .... *His face his mad, hands his gripping on the bundle of clothes but his scent is clearly sad*

Jon: ... *sigh* "Fine" *he lets go of the bundle*

Damian: *D immediately clutches them to his chest but his scent is now happy*

Jon: But seriously dame i need some of those clothes back

Damian: No >:(

Jon: (Screaming internally)(You're such a difficult person to please...)

(He went to buy new ones with D's credit card)

(Those got haggled again)

(He starts borrowing Kon's shirts)

(D didn't take them and J takes it as a victory)

(Dame is happily snuggling with Jon's clothes with no room speace left for jon. All the spaces are clothes stacked on top of eachother its overcrowded here. And Jon is just standing staring at him)

(D lets Jon in one time (shyly asked him) and it gave Jon a lot of stomach flips. He didn't forgive D for stealing his clothes tho (he forgot about his grudge in the end))

[willalove75]

stop simping over women and pay attention to your husband. You clearly made your choice to be with a man and have his child rather than choose a woman. You bisexual women don’t get to exist in lesbian spaces when you lean towards men. Unless your husband lets to you step out on your marriage or lets you have delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man. You bisexual women who lean more towards men or are with men have no right to be in sapphic or lesbian spaces. And lady d is a lesbian so as if she would be with someone who let a man touch them let alone knock them up.

Oh, I'm sorry, did my husband tell you that I'm not giving him enough attention? Didn't think so.

Yes, I made a choice to be with him, because I fell in love with him. Because he's my best friend and my biggest supporter in everything I do (yes, he even supports my writing and fics and he tells me often how proud he is of me). I did not chose him because he's a man. Truthfully, his gender had absolutely nothing to do with why I married him. I just happened to fall in love with and marry a man, but that does NOT make me any less of a bisexual woman.

"You bisexual women..." and people question whether or not bi-erasure is a thing, meanwhile, this entire ask is such a great example of just that😒

"delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man." is truly offensive to not only every bi woman who has been with a man, but any woman who has. What about the lesbians that got pregnant by men?? Because this may come as a shock to you, but it does happen. It may not happen a lot or often, but it does. Does that mean that those women are "tainted" or "ruined" also??? No it fucking doesn't, you idiot.

It really makes me laugh when people try and use a fictional character to make a real life argument. You want to know why? BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT FUCKING REAL!!! So honestly, you have absolutely no idea if that's true or not because she's a fake fucking character from a video game. Are you also this upset at the fic writers who make her trans??? Or what about fic writers that make Alcina's partner trans??? Or are you just that much of biphobic person and this is the hill you're choosing to die on?? Either way, you're an actual bigot.

This post just SCREAMS biphobia and bi-erasure and it's fucking gross. You are so very obviously projecting your own issues and insecurities in this and honestly I would be embarrassed if I were you. Because not a single thing you said is true AT ALL or holds any merit.

Bisexual women who lean towards men or who are with men ABSOLUTELY do belong in those spaces. Just because a bisexual woman is married/with a man or leans towards men does not discredit or change their sexuality. No bi person automatically becomes straight if they date/marry the opposite gender or become gay/lesbian if they date/marry the same gender. It's called BIsexual. More than one gender. You do not get to invalidate every bi person with this shitty (and inherently wrong) opinion.

I know you wrote this trying to get a rise out of me, and congratulations because you succeeded. But I also know that people like you leave messages like this because they feel so broken and hurt and shitty that they want others to feel like that too. Unfortunately for you, I grew up in the era that birthed anonymous hate messages so you'll have to try harder next time. Not only that, but I am proud and confident in who I am and no pathetic anonymous (especially anonymous, you pussy) message is going to shake me.

I am a proud bisexual woman. I am proud to be married to my husband. I am proud that I will soon be the mother of a little boy who I will raise to be a much better person than you'll ever be. I am proud of what I've written and no, I will not stop.

[antariies]

how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk

SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......

and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)

this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy

okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!

1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.

2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea

3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!

hehe :3c

4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.

5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!

and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c

6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this

7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves

7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.

8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.

a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.

9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼

10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.

will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.

11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.

i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.

12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O

and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....

13.

i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.

me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!

14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]

15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.

16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.

17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.

18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture

19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol

20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns

21.

obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.

also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS

but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!

and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼

and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P

[bonefall]

while i do agree with the sentiment that bloodclan should be more nuanced as an entity i still believe it is wrong to portray them as the necessary "response" to clan injustice (haven't read the books in years but i am pretty sure that bloodclan started with no connection to the clans) / an opposition to the clan's flaws. some of the thing scourge did was out of selfishness and bloodclan isn't the other colour of the black and white debacle with the clans. the clans are heavily flawed yes, but it isn't realistic to completely say that their structure had no redeeming qualities altogether and that all outsider groups is fundamentally better than the clans.

all clans and groups are flawed in their own way and i believe we shouldnt brush past the things that other groups (the sisters and what they do with their toms *cough cough*) did solely to be able to degrade the clans and their culture.

Buddy, you're setting up a strawman. I promise you that if you look into the reduxes I've made of BloodClan, Guardians, The Sisters, and the Tribe, you will see that I don't make any of them a "flawless" alternative to Clan life.

Nor do I say that the Clans have no redeeming qualities. In fact, you can browse the "Clan Culture" tag to see the various expansions I've made to show how these traditions, values, and technological advances make Clan life so alluring.

The overarching theme of BB is that the nature of culture is change. For better AND for worse.

With respect, I think there's something insidious in the wording of "the things the other groups did." We're talking about fan responses to a work that consistently demonizes and degrades foreigners to make the Clans look like the "best way to live," justifying xenophobia. These are not real groups, they are writing choices.

In the franchise with some pretty extreme examples of misogyny, the authors said "What if bizarro world where women rule and have no men... woag..." and only includes a single Clan-alligned member of this culture, with a BAD opinion of them, who can't even do his diplomatic job because he HATES them so much.

In the same franchise that shows Fireheart getting bullied, facing prejudice, and fighting a murderous tyrant who publically executes a mixed-race character, their endgame villain is an outsider, like him, but this one IS a godless heathen who HATES love and friendship and banned families.

In the VERY same franchise which made its first non-malicious group barely able to get through an arc without needing to be saved by Clan cats, totally unable to defend themselves, framed as "whiny" for not wanting their clearly 'inferior' culture to be forcefully changed.

And I'm re-stating all this because, again, no offense to you in particular Anon, but I've been seeing a few people with a sentiment like yours lately. Complaints into a vacuum that don't make targeted critique of anyone's fanworks, gesturing at this broad "woobification" which is apparently out there somewhere over the rainbow, saying things like "well Scourge is selfish" or "well Moonlight abandoned her 13 year old" as if we haven't BEEN knew.

As if we're not all directly responding to these choices. As if I haven't written ESSAYS on this topic.

Since this was about BloodClan in particular though, and you admit you haven't read the books in years, please go back and actually read Rise of Scourge before trying to make critique of the ways fanon rewrites its origin. It's EXPLICITLY a response to the Clans, in the text, that the Erins wrote, it is canon that fanon is working with.

And you want people to take that out and approach it a different way... why? Because it's so incredulous to you that a nation forms in response to a threatening neighbor? That a common enemy through invasions is a way that people might choose to unite, and encourage their new culture to value brutality? Because you don't like the idea of Clan Culture's XENOPHOBIC BATTLE CULTURE affecting surrounding communities??

Could YOU, maybe, be doing this "woobification" thing I keep hearing about? Can I play this stupid game too? What's our stupid prize? Can it be a lollipop? Do we get stickers

TL;DR, ok.

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part four

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: language, suggestive ✦ Spoiler: talking about dressrosa and doflamingo

A/N: I don't know why but I've been listening non stop to 50 Cent - Ayo Technology ft. Justin Timberlake when I was writing lol.

wordcount: 2743

tagging: @lazyninjatheorist - @sassyyassi

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

Without knocking, you barge into Ace's room. You have completed the preparations and drawn up a rough plan. Now all you need to do is discuss the matter with Ace. To your surprise, he doesn't seem to be in his room, as there is no sign of Ace.

Strange. Marco said he was in his room… It seems he was mistaken.

Just before you were about to reach for the doorknob to go out, the bathroom door opened behind you. You turn around and see the dark haired man coming out of the steaming bathroom with a towel around his waist. He doesn't even notice you because he's rubbing his hair dry with another towel.

When you clear your throat, he freezes and rips the towel off his head, grinning broadly when he sees you.

"Hey y/n what's up?" He puts the towel around his neck and stands casually in front of you. You're a little distracted by the sight of him. A few drops of water roll down his muscles… You take a deep breath and close your eyes quickly.

This is nothing you haven't seen before, girl…

"Get dressed and come to my room, we have something to discuss." And without letting him answer, you walk out of his room.

If you had looked at him again, you would have gone insane. Even if it was only for a moment, the sight of him has carved itself into your brain. The way his wet black hair fell and clung to his face and neck. The towel that was just barely on his hips but so deep that you could clearly see his waistline. His slightly reddened face… he must have had a hot shower.

Mhmhm.. Having a soaking.. hot shower with Ace? You bet that would be fucking enjoyable…

You bite your lower lip and grin to yourself as you make your way back to your room. You don't even recognize yourself, since when do you only think about sex? But you can't stop having these thoughts about him either.

"Why are you grinning so stupidly to yourself? That's scary, stop it y/n…" Marco nudges you lightly with his shoulder, so you look up at him.

"Nothing…" you say with a convincing voice but Marco watches you warily. You walk quietly across the deck side by side, his gaze stern on your face and he snorts a little. You stop and put your hands lightly in the air, like; what's your problem, dumbass?

He turns to face you. His gaze is getting on your nerves… He always looks like that when he knows you've done something wrong or are hiding something. You cross your arms, if he wants to get on your nerves, let him talk.

"I saw you come out of Ace's room…" He raises his eyebrows and approaches you.

"You told me he was in his room. I asked you where he was or have you already forgotten, duh?" You roll your eyes. His interrogation is poor... He looks at you a little surprised.

"Come on y/n, you know what I'm referring to…" - "Nah, no clue what you're talking about." Bored, you look down at your fingernails.

"You like him, admit it." he points his finger at you. The question annoys you. Why does he even care?

"So what?" you put one arm on your hip. Is he being a big brother now? Watch out, soon comes the love talk…

"AHA, I knew it!" he raises his other hand and points both fingers at you, making you laugh.

"Listen, Ace is a really good guy, but if he's mean to you, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll help you sort it out…" you snort a little and shake your head, putting your hand on your arm. There it was the love talk...

"You know, Ace wasn't the problem…" you look around slightly anxious, to see if anyone could hear and continue quietly. "…It was me."

"You?" He leans back a little surprised.

"Yes, me…" you look around in panic because he was getting a bit too loud.

"Listen, now is not a good time. I'll explain later, but right now I have to get back. I just wanted to pick up Ace to discuss the plans for Dressrosa but he just got out of the shower…" You falter a little as you remember the sight of him… Marco misunderstands your facial expression and reacts with disgust.

"Ughh save me the details…" You give him a mean look

"It wasn't like that at all! I just briefly told him to get dressed and come to my room… That's it!!!" You're still not that convincing in Marco's eyes.

"Still, you were grinning quite obviously to yourself…"

You groan in annoyance.

"Fine! I was grinning because Ace was standing in front of me in a TOWEL… and I just had to think about that. Happy?!" - "Ah no stop!" He puts his hands over his eyes as if to protect himself from the pictures.

"It's your own fault!" Stubbornly, you stride past him and flee to your room.

You close the door behind you and take a deep breath. You actually have other things to do right now than deal with something like this.

On your desk, you spread out a map of Dressrosa and pin a few locations of interest. You have kept a neat notebook of your travels. You wrote down everything your ears could pick up, even if it had nothing specifically to do with your mission, but based on your experience, it might come in handy again.

You don't know much about Dressrosa itself, only that Doflamingo is the king. But what you do know about Doflamingo is, that he is said to be the man behind the name 'Joker' and runs the black market in various ways. You had heard people talking about it, apparently customers, and their words matched Doflamingo perfectly.

Whitebeard became aware of him through one of your reports from Alabasta. As mentioned, your ears are everywhere… If it turns out that he is the broker, you should know about it. It could be a chance to eliminate an important role in the world. Before, there was only the name, a character who supplies your enemies with resources. Now you have a suspect, so you have to turn Dressrosa upside down.

But it's a difficult game. First you have to find out where it all goes down as well as discover all players involved.

You look intently at your little notes. That's going to be a bit difficult. Where should you start? You don't have a single contact in the area.

You try to remember what people said about the King of Dressrosa… He is said to be quite extravagant and a man of pleasure. He's also one of the seven Shichibukai and works with the World Government… The world government doesn't like you guys but you also have your ways to maintain your control and this time your mission is to gain control of the black market, to destroy it.

You are responsible for gathering enough information to get the upper hand and then Whitebeard sends out his divisions.

The sickening face of Doflamingo appears before your eyes. He seems to be doing a good job as king and Dressrosa is a popular destination for spring and summer…

After meeting him only a few times, you are certain that he is in fact a horrible tyrant. He is an unpredictable and dangerous man. You'll have to be careful since you don't have any insiders…

A knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." you call to Ace and turn to the wall where your pinboard is. There you've put up all the 'family members' with their most important details and you consider who could be a serious threat.

He steps in front of your desk and examines your detailed and neat plan. Small notes are attached to the map, where the important places are pinned.

"I see we have a lot to discuss." You turn around with your hand on your chin.

"We'll be busy for a while… I'm very sure he's the broker." You present him a report of the shipping traffic, from Dressrosa. Ships from many different kingdoms dock and stay for only a few days at most. Passenger ships dock and there are always far less passengers arriving than the ship could accommodate. Ace runs through the digits and you can see in his face how he compares the numbers.

"I agree with you about the ships of the other kingdoms, the length of stay is suspiciously short… but long enough to make a deal… but the passenger ships?" He looks up from the document at you.

"Slave trade." you say confidently, pointing to a line in the report.

"According to the ship's blueprint, it can carry 25 passengers, but strangely enough, only 20 tickets are sold per day…" - "You're pretty good at this shit…" Ace grins at you with his signature smile.

"I know that's only two things, but I suspect Doflamingo is running his trades on Dressrosa and Father wants us to confirm that and gather enough information to take him down." - "That would get some big enemies off our backs, looking at the list of countries…" You put your hands on the table and smile at him with satisfaction. Ace has a keen eye… There are some annoying enemies, of the Whitebeard pirates, on the list…

"Considering the fact that these countries frequently dock in Dressrosa, they seem to do a regular trade. If Doflamingo is taken down, that will be the end of them too."

"I like the sound of this… What are we going to do first?" You turn to the overview of the members of the Donquixote family.

"We should gather information about all the opponents in the area and find out who we really should avoid." Ace stands next to you to read through the notes relating to the members.

"There were places marked on your map, what are they?" You both turn back to the table and your shoulders touch. Your eyes are focused on the map and you point your finger at two dots on the outer edge of the map

"These are the two public harbors and we will dock at one of them after we arrive with a passenger ship." - "You want to go on a passenger ship?" he looks down at you in surprise. "Yes, of course. Being conspicuous is usually the least obvious, isn't it?" you grin playfully at him.

"Being undercover doesn't just mean operating in the background, it means infiltrating. We board the ship on another island as normal passengers and travel to Dressrosa for our honeymoon… remember?"

You smile at him. Ace certainly didn't think you'd be fine with Whitebeard's suggestion, but it's a pretty safe move per se. After all, you don't have any allies there to make it easier for you to get into the country. The fact that you're posing as a newly married couple is something new for you, but it's actually a pretty good cover.

"We have to dress up and act like a natural couple, of course, and for the sake of the mission, I'm prepared to act accordingly." You've already slipped into every role and fooled people. As a woman, you have your very own tricks. Men are so easy to influence when the right woman is sitting in front of him. You're used to getting close to men and playing your role. As soon as they eat out of your hand, you shoot their back.

Since you're a good actress, your feelings for Ace won't stop you from doing a great job.

"Oho, you're ready to act accordingly?" He leans down slightly but you don't move a bit.

"So does that mean we might be kissing?" Despite your smile, you furrow your eyebrows a little. He's naughty.

"Depends on the situation, of course." You remain professional, but even your cool manner doesn't discourage Ace. He's obviously staring at your lips. When you start to speak, he quickly looks you in the eye.

"Since I'm a fan of a good show, I've also chosen a good place for us to hide." You look at the map.

"The spot next to the Coloseum is a hotel. This hotel is famous for being romantic. It's known to be constantly booked out for newlyweds or couples…" - "The famous Hotel Mirabell???!" he looks at you, a little shocked, as he reads the name on the note under the pin.

"Are you somehow filthy rich?" He grabs the note to check whether he might have misread it, but it's true. The luxury Hotel Mirabell is the most popular hotel of all. You toss your hair back arrogantly.

"You know Ace, I've stolen from quite a few people in the casinos of Alabasta over the last few years…" He interrupts you because he bursts out laughing.

"I have to say that's pretty impressive. You're one hell of a pickpocket if you can afford a hotel room like that!" You blush and try to hide behind your hand, but Ace stops you. Without putting up a fight, you let him do his thing and show your flustered side.

"The Mirabell Hotel has a casino, I bet we could meet some important guests there since it's popular with the royalty… besides that, you should teach me a few tricks on robbing people…" - "Some other time, but not on Dressrosa. That's too risky. If we get caught, we can pack our bags straight away because our identity will be exposed." Your mind is back on your mission. As tempting as it sounds to hit the casinos with Ace, you should keep your hands off the gambling and rather observe.

"Too bad, but you're in command."

You discuss a few more details for a while… On which island you will take the passenger ship to Dressrosa, how you will dress up and what you should do for the first few days. After it's been quiet for a while, you realize how late it is.

Ace lies on your sofa with your notes and studies their details and your eyes meet from time to time. Ace doesn't mind when you catch him looking at you and gives one of those little smirks. Although he irritates you so much, you refuse to get flustered.

You close your notebook with a dull sound and get up from your desk. You think you've planned everything you need to do and, as it's quite late, want to snuggle up in your warm bed.

"Hey Ace, it's getting late, we should stop now and go to bed," you say as you grab your sleeping clothes from your closet.

"Oh is it that late already?" he looks out of the window in surprise. It's already pitch black.

"I think we've done enough and should present the plan tomorrow to Dad and start the mission." You change behind a room divider and come out in your sleeping clothes. Ace's eyes follow you as you walk past him in just a shirt that barely covers your ass. You wait for him at your bedroom door and Ace says his goodbyes, wishing you nice dreams.

"Sweet dreams to you too, Ace." He looks you up and down, your shirt is short enough to tickle his imagination.

"Thanks, I'm surely going to have them."

His brazen response makes your face flush and you slam the door before your face turns completely red.

But Ace, who is still standing in front of your door, has indeed seen the blush on your face. He can tell from your reaction that you like him. You're the one who's fooling herself.

He smiles to himself. The red on your cheeks suits you, he thinks it's a shame that you want to hide it so badly...

Masterlist

A/N: bruh. It's 4 in the morning… why am I not tired??? I hope you enjoyed it. See you next time ♡

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