#especially in mosquito places

[ifindtheartifacts]

I just don’t know why we allow mosquitoes to exist there has to be a way to kill them all

[jdkyang]

I got my hands on that pic 😌

[secret-bug-pain-blog]

Bug thoughts night. Time to learn things about bugs, whether you like it or not.

Did you know that the reason bug zappers are so effective is because they cook bugs in their shells? They quite literally boil a bug's blood, and since a bug's got an open circulatory system, it boils the rest of their organs with it. With most models, it lures the bugs to itself with a UV bulb, then kills them on the spot with a mesh of electrified metal - quickly, painfully, and with little to no hope of survival.

Because most bug zappers use a fluorescent UV lightbulb, their main catch is almost never mosquitoes - even if it's one that lures with pheromones, it casts a wide net, and it goes after just about any bug in the area that will be caught in it. Moths are the obvious one, but the majority of bug zapper catches are things like water bugs and midges - harmless bugs, but electricity doesn't discriminate between harmless and not. What matters is what's caught in the net is undesirable, and because it can be killed by electricity, it will be.

It is acceptable, because they're bugs. There are plenty of them, they're fine to kill, the world is better off without a few gross little bugs anyways. They're uncharismatic. Ugly. They're an acceptable loss. Who likes bugs, anyways? Who wants dirty little bugs in their space? In their homes? In their neighborhoods?

If it kills them dead, then it's an acceptable loss.

Might be fun to think about when writing your next story.

[dangerous-disposition]

Not all bees are passive, chill little bugs. I lived in Arizona where there were bee's that behaved more like hornets and were aggressive or easily provoked. Also, a lot of bee stings are accidental. My sister was stung AS A TODDLER bc she went to brush what she thought was a fly out of her hair.

It's apparently more normal, according to this poll, to have BEEN stung by bee's so the weirdo attitude about people who have seems pretty misplaced here.

Tldr: not all bees are passive chill bugs, and there are lots of ways to have been stung by a bee.

(saying this all as someone who hasn't been stung by either a bee or a hornet ever in my life. It's actually rly easy to be part of the minority in this particular case and not be fucking weird about it)

have you ever been stung by a bee?

[farmerstarter]

maybe some general seb relationship headcanons if you dont mind? especially prior to it or crushing/early dating. how would he react to the confession? would his friends tease him? etc.

im a little picky w sdv hc blog interpretations and i love yours! theyre so sweet. if this is a lot feel free to just do as much as you'd like 💟

ʚ👾ɞ ˚ · . Crushing

tags: sebastian from sdv x gn! reader

OMG Anon! I am so sorry this is sooooo late. I just finished my 2nd year of college and it was so hectic. But now I have WAY more time to write. Writing this was so fun! if you have any fic requests then feel free to send me an ask! <3 purple divider by @saradika-graphics <3

𐙚⭑ Sebastian couldn’t deny that he, like everyone else in the valley, was curious about the new farmer moving into the overgrown expanse of land to the west of town. He was a bit down on the idea of not having his usual smoking place anymore, but the intrigue easily overpowered it. He was one of the last people to meet you. Sam and Abigail couldn’t stop talking about you. Which was reasonable, nothing ever happens in the valley. The more Sebastian knew about you, the more confused he got. Why move out in the middle of nowhere? Why leave the city for a pile of dirt and a mosquito-infested house? It was weird. For him, at least.

𐙚⭑ You two finally met at night. Sebastian was smoking by the waterfall, and you ambled your way out of the cave with a bag full of copper and coal. The mountains were wisped with fog, cold with dew. Sebastian was sure he was the only living soul out in the open. Much to his surprise, and at the expense of his dignity, he let out the loudest scream he could muster when you decided it was a good idea to sneak up on him to say hello while you were covered in soot and mud. While he was calming himself down and you were washing your face in the lake, you promised not to tell Sam or Abigail about the encounter. Sebastian was very grateful for that. The two of you spent the next hour talking.

𐙚⭑ The next time you met him was when you were discussing building plans with Robin in her house. Robin was just explaining that you needed more wood for your planned chicken coop, and Sebastian just so happened to come out to return his pile of plates to the kitchen. Robin waved him over to introduce him to you. His eyes met yours, and you immediately introduced yourself properly. You gave him a discreet wink when Robin’s back was turned. You deduced that Robin wouldn’t have been too happy to know her son was out at the late hours of the night, smoking his third cigarette in one sitting. Seeing this as an opportunity for her son to get some sunlight, Robin asked Sebastian to accompany you while you got more wood. He didn’t have anything to do; he had finished his module for the week, and he was curious about what his friends were telling him about you. So, he agreed to do it.

𐙚⭑ The two of you decided that Cindersnap Forest would be a good place to chop down some trees. You led the way while Sebastian followed suit, dragging along a wheelbarrow that Robin gave you to make the trip back to the mountains easier. Sebastian spent the day sitting on the makeshift bridge over the river and watching you cut down too many trees for him to count. There were times when you offered to teach him how to wield an axe. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you, so he just shook his head and decided to arrange the logs of wood in the wheelbarrow instead. It was 2 pm when you finally had enough wood for the coop, but neither of you wanted to go back just yet, mostly because it was too hot to walk back, and Sebastian didn’t want to burn off his skin.

𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian went to look at whatever the traveling cart was selling. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the dark-haired man’s eyes widened when he found out the merchant was selling an egg for 500 gold.

𐙚⭑ It would be so cute if you and Sebastian stumbled into the secret woods and that became your little hideaway to hang out when life got demanding for both of you.

𐙚⭑ You definitely fell for him first, but Sebastian fell in love harder. It all started when you invited him, Sam, and Abigail over to eat the many fish dishes you cooked when you finally had a kitchen in your abode. You specifically made sashimi for him since you remembered he mentioned it was his favorite. He was touched. You took the effort to even remember what he said, and that made his heart stutter. (“It tastes just like the ones Linus makes.”) ((Side note: it would be so cute if Sebastian and Linus became friends because Linus would make sashimi for both of them to eat at night by his tent, but I digress.))

𐙚⭑ Your friendship with Sebastian continued to bloom when you found a frog egg in the cave. You immediately ran to Sebastian to show it off. The two of you became parents to a very hungry frog named Blimp.

𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian rode his motorcycle at night when the two of you had nothing to do. He didn’t have an extra helmet yet, so he insisted you wear his helmet instead of him. He wanted you safe.

𐙚⭑ I am a firm believer that Sebastian is the type of person to become loud and talkative when he’s around people he is truly comfortable with. So, the moment you two became friends, Sebastian would invite you to hang out with him and Sam in his room to play Solarian Chronicles. He becomes more animated the longer you play, laughing at Sam’s crappy rolls and your insistence that every small enemy is the true boss in disguise. To both Robin and Demetrius’ surprise, Sebastian spends more time outside compared to the past. The two of you either hang out in the Secret Woods or play the arcade games in the saloon. PICNICS! IN THE SECRET WOODS!!

𐙚⭑ You confessed first, and Sebastian became red in the face in an instant. He couldn’t stop smiling, though. Sam doesn’t let him hear the end of it.

𐙚⭑ On clear nights, you and Sebastian climb up to the roof of his house to stargaze. He loves pointing out constellations to you, showing off what Maru taught him. If he asked nicely enough, his half-sister would let the two of you borrow her telescope.

[daistea]

Might I… request a fic about Kabru and Mithrun (respectively) encountering a succubus that appeals to them by taking on the form of the reader. While the reader is standing Right There

oh my goodness this was so fun for me. However, it was only after I finished writing it that I realized what 'respectively' implied. So this did not happen respectively, I'm sorry. I think it's funnier this way, though, if that's any solace.

If you still want this prompt done for them both separately, then let me know and I'll be happy to do that!

Mithrun x Reader x Kabru (not a love triangle, no established relationship)

2000 words!

no tw except for a very mild implication

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The first sign of danger was the cloying, saccharine smell that consumed every inch of the room. It was as if the air had been replaced with pure perfume created to appeal to a specific victim. 

Kabru’s eyes fluttered as he recognized the scent of Utaya’s fields, especially the moments when the breeze would roll across the wheat and envelop him in a warm hug. Then, there was the hint of Milsiril’s kitchen, which wasn’t a scent he would usually describe as appealing. Yet, it sunk into his skin and made his heart clench.

To Mithrun, the petrichor was faint, but recognizable. It was just a hint in the back of his mind, bringing up a split second memory of the rainy, rolling green hills of the Northern Central Continent. Since the demon, though, he’d never been particularly sentimental of his home. As if the source of the scent read his mind and realized that, the perfume in the air gently switched to something savory, like elf cake. He didn’t care about that either. Again, the scent switched to wildflowers. He didn’t care about that either. And once more—

Succubi were so annoying, so invasive. Mithrun sighed and nudged Kabru with his elbow, “There’s monsters nearby.”

Kabru caught on almost immediately, “Succubi?” Without waiting for an answer, he glanced over his shoulder at you, of all people. His expressions weren’t as well-guarded when with you and Mithrun, and the Captain recognized the concern that flickered over his face. Mithrun’s hand twitched with the urge to grab Kabru by the hair and redirect his stare elsewhere, perhaps onto the life-sucking mosquito monsters that were slowly approaching from the shadows. 

The dungeon was a collapsed ruin, but still traversable to those determined enough. You had insisted on coming with Mithrun on one of his regular explorations of the ruins. Once Kabru had discovered that you were going with Mithrun, he insisted upon coming along as well despite his obvious distaste for the place. There was some deeper reasoning behind his decision, Mithrun knew. Whether or not you knew that, though, remained to be seen. 

There was rubble in the corners and moss growing between the cracks in the stones. One wrong step and the ceiling could easily fall. It was wise to have more than one person when encountering a succubi, yet all the times Mithrun had encountered them in the past had ended up in his favor. The succubi didn’t quite know what to do with him. He cast you and Kabru a wary glance, though— you two were far more susceptible. 

“Just stay close,” Kabru said as he took a careful step forward. He reached out a hand behind him, grabbing for your wrist. You let him take your arm, and Mithrun felt his shoulders tense. 

“The wisest thing to do would be to cover your eyes,” Mithrun mused. As he spoke, he took your other hand. In response to that, Kabru released your wrist and also held your hand. For a moment, you felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but perhaps one of the most confusing. 

Mithrun and Kabru led you through the ruined room. The shadows were thick and alive with the scuffling of feet, the brushing of wings against the wall. Kabru did his best to hide his concern, but his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down whatever he was feeling. A quick glance at Mithrun confirmed that the Captain was not at all bothered by the cloying scent of succubi, their calling card and greeting. They could strike at any moment, yet he remained calm. 

“It will be fine,” Mithrun’s voice cut through the tension, “just close your eyes.”

Kabru sent him a look over his shoulder, “‘It’ll be fine’ is easy for you to say, Captain.”

“It is, the succubi have never really known what to make of me.”

You imagined a life-sucking, giant mosquito monster just staring at Mithrun as it tried to process what it was seeing. Yet, just the other day, Mithrun had expressed a small desire for a specific dish. 

You snorted, “Your desires are coming back, though. You never know, it may take the form of an unseasoned elf casserole.”

Kabru put up a gloved hand to stifle his laugh, “Yeah, with boiled chicken and white rice without an ounce of salt.”

You could practically feel the heat of Mithrun’s stare on the back of your neck. “Elven cuisine is an acquired taste.”

“As in… once you actually acquire taste, you’ll move onto much better food?” You asked. 

You would’ve liked to share a high-five with Kabru over that one, but the familiar buzz of a mosquito interrupted the laughter. The three of you froze as a flicker of mana filled the air. Mithrun didn’t seem worried, this succubi obviously wasn’t for him, but—

Kabru put out an arm in front of you as if to shield you from… yourself. 

An exact copy of you stepped out of the shadows. Its eyes were wide with a look that could only be described as desperate desire. Its cheeks were flushed and brows furrowed, every ounce of attention focused precisely on Kabru. 

Both you and Mithrun looked at him. 

Kabru cleared his throat and looked away. The red on the tips of his ears was undeniable. 

How were you supposed to feel about that? Flattered? There was some flattery in it, though it was mixed with mild horror at the absolutely breathless and desperate version of yourself that he apparently desired. Was that what you looked like? You were sure you never made a face like that. (You did, last week when Melini had a heatwave and Kabru had fetched you a glass of water. The memory haunted him.)

To your right, Mithrun raised a shaking hand. His shoulders trembled a little and he closed his eyes. His brows furrowed as he exhaled shakily. He looked as if he was only held together by a thin piece of string and a wad of chewing gum. The sight made your heart skip a beat in panic until you noticed the slight twitch of his lips. 

He was trying not to laugh. 

You choked on air. Kabru also choked on air, but for a very different reason. The succubus copy of you slowly sauntered toward him– you do not saunter like that, you would never saunter in such a manner, with that hungry look in your eyes and your lips parted ever so slightly. Horrifying. But like all good horrifying things, it also made you want to kneel over and start laughing until your stomach hurt. 

“Kabru,” you gasped, barely holding yourself together, “You—”

“Shut up!” He snapped as he took several steps back, “Don’t overthink it! It’s nothing! It’s–”

Mithrun interrupted with a heavy, resigned sigh. He took a casual step forward and touched the succubus version of you on the shoulder. Its eyes widened and it tensed, but before it could react, it was gone. You were pretty sure he teleported it into a nearby wall, judging by the muffled, strangled hisses coming from nearby. 

Kabru was still red, “I can explain.”

“I don’t think that requires an explanation,” Mithrun said flatly. 

“You know what?” He glared, “Not everybody can be as unaffected as y—”

Another buzz, another footstep on the stone floor. The three of you froze once more as another succubus stepped out of the shadows. 

It was also you. 

Fortunately, this version of you was much less desperate. Yet there was something about it that reminded you of a painting in a cathedral. Perhaps it was the look in its familiar eyes, the sheer love and affection it held as it stared at Mithrun as if he was the only person who ever existed. 

“That’s not mine,” Kabru said.

And it obviously wasn’t yours. Both you and Kabru looked at Mithrun. 

The Captain was tense, his body taut like the string of a bow. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stared at the succubus. His good eye was wide and he kept blinking as if that might help clarify the existence of a version of you that looked at him so adoringly. 

He schooled his expression and casually pointed at the love-struck succubus, “That’s not mine.”

“Of course it’s yours!” Kabru snapped, “Who else’s could it be?!”

Mithrun only shrugged. The soft tinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed his feelings. 

Once again, you were at a loss of what to think. It was sweet. Your heart fluttered and emotion filled your throat. Yet, did he truly desire for you to look at him like that? Did he lie awake at night, wondering what it would feel like to have every ounce of your attention on him, to value him so dearly that you were incapable of seeing anyone else? The very idea knocked the breath from your lungs. 

Except, Kabru ran a sword through the adoring, angelic version of you, and the mosquito monster screeched in a very not-you way. Mithrun only grimaced and chose to stare at the wall instead.

“Okay, so hopefully that’s the last of them,” you said. Your cheeks felt very warm. Kabru and Mithrun both desired you, though in different ways. You didn’t think that was possible. There was nothing more you wanted to do at that moment than run and hide and mull over possible explanations for what you’d just seen.

“Wait,” Mithrun stretched out an arm in front of you, “there’s one more.”

Despite his serious tone, awkwardness permeated the air. You were practically choking on it, unable to breathe normally because all your body could process was sheer embarrassment. Kabru’s ears were red. Mithrun looked more dead inside than usual. None of you would meet each other’s eyes. 

The last succubus stepped out of the shadow. First, you saw a brown boot, then a familiar hand, then a familiar face. 

You gasped, holding your chest as if afraid that your heart might burst through your skin. “I-It’s you…”

Mithrun and Kabru both looked at you. “It’s…” Mithrun couldn’t finish his sentence. 

But Kabru could, “Your biggest desire is… The meat pie vendor who sets up shop on the corner on Thursdays?!”

He said it as if that was a bad thing. 

The meat pie vendor smiled seductively and held out a fresh, steaming hot meat pie. You took a step forward, your hand trembling as you reached for the treat. 

“You don’t even want him romantically!” Kabru yelled, “You just want him to give you food!”

Once again, he said it as if that was a bad thing. 

Before your hand could brush along the flaky, warm exterior of the meat pie, Kabru pulled out his sword. Mithrun grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground. It happened too quickly. There was no time to defend your desire. You gasped as the sword ran through the beloved meat pie vendor’s stomach, and as the wood was teleported through his neck. With an inhuman screech, the succubus collapsed to the floor. 

Your friends, who wanted you, had just killed the one thing you wanted… Your heart was torn in two. 

It was a complete mystery why both Mithrun and Kabru stormed out of the dungeon without saying one word to you. You were the one that should’ve been mad. 

Still, as you took Kabru’s hand in your left and Mithrun’s in your right, they both gave your fingers a light squeeze. 

Still, “We’re never doing this again,” Kabru said. 

Mithrun nodded. You grimaced. And none of you ever spoke of it again. 

[yzzart]

"Oh, hello, Vogue!"

pairing: Tom Blyth x actress!reader.

summary: invited by Vogue, you and Tom participate in a famous panel about answering quick questions.

word count: 1.323!

notes: here it is! i focused all day, without drama, on this writing and finished it minutes ago. — enjoy!

"We're, like, Patrick and Kat!" — Tom nodded in agreement, looking and paying attention to your words and almost forgetting that you were being recorded. — "Anakin and Padmé?" — You wrinkled your nose gracefully.

"Lady and the Tramp?" — He suggested, smiling tenderly and was won over by your laugh and a long touch on his arm made by you.

"Oh my god, yes!"

"Hi, Vogue!" — In a gesture of introducing yourself, you waved to the camera in front of you accompanied by an inviting and friendly smile. — "I'm Y/N."

"And I'm Tom Blyth." — Tom introduced himself to the camera and future viewers. — "… and we are about to play Off the Cuff." — He moved the small cards, which contained countless and random questions, and directed his eyes to you.

"Uh, a great entrance!" — You crossed your legs, making yourself comfortable on the chain, and held out the small cards as your eyebrows arched at Tom.

"Thank you, my dear." — He winked at you and took, carefully and planning a bit of suspense, one of the white cards; the topics were random, they could be about TBOSAS, behind the scenes or something related to your relationship. — Everything was a mystery. — "What was the last song you listened to?"

"Hm…" — You rested one of your hands on your chin, trying to fake a thoughtful image. — "A song, which is still unknown to me, that you hummed in the morning." — Your laugh was registered and echoed throughout the room, and Tom was amused when he remembered what happened. — "I should have recorded it!"

"It was a little chorus, and it stuck in my head." — He explained, placing the small card in a reserved place next to him. — "I don't remember the name of the song, but it must be saved on my phone" — His eyes fell on you again. — "Then i can sing for you again." — Tom uttered with melody and his lips curving in a shy smile.

"So adorable and romantic" — You tilted your head, with a pleasant and welcoming smile, at your boyfriend finding your words cute. — "Oh, i think i know the answer to that, what is an item you never leave the house without?" — Your hands shook the small card, waiting for your boyfriend's response.

"You definitely know the answer!" — Tom stated in slurred words accompanied by a laugh. — "In New York, the key to my motorcycle and i have it all the time." — His chin bowed a little. — "And maybe, in the future, in your bag."

"One day i'll ride it, you can be sure." — One of the cameras focused on her face, capturing her words, or rather, a promise that you would love to keep one day.

"And i'll be there, my love." — Blyth took another card. — "Among all the characters' looks in the film, which one would you wear?"

"Definitely, all the looks worn by Tigris." — You moved your hands. — "In addition to being beautiful, they seem to be so comfortable, especially the one where she talks to Coriolanus after he tells her about Lucy Gray." — The image of the aforementioned scene was then shown in the video with editing. — "Hunter looks so beautiful in them."

"Definitely." — He agreed

"With all the sets and locations in the film, which one was your favorite?" — Another card was discarded by you. — "Tell us!" — His voice sounded curious and excited by the older man's response.

"Hm, i loved recording them all." — Tom turned his eyes to an invisible fixed point. — "But, i think i choose the cabin." — His attention returned to you. — "Even with those mosquitoes and little bugs that i've never seen in my life."

"You were scared of most." — Your laughs came in sync.

"It was impossible not to be scared!" — Tom added. — "There was one that almost got into my shirt and another in the river." — Taking another card, Tom read the words written on it and continued with a peculiar and curious expression. — "Name one unforgettable thing i've ever done for you." — The question came out slowly, delicately and with a touch of enthusiasm; and several moments, memories flashed in his mind. — "I'm excited for this."

"My god, it's impossible to give just one answer." — A slightly euphoric and nervous question left your lips, and you laughed nervously as you tried to think and choose just one of the moments and deeds that Tom has done for you. — "It's so hard to choose one." — And it wasn't exaggeration or drama.

"You don't have to think so much, darling." — Tom's voice calmed your mind so tight and focused on the answer; nervousness was visible on your face. — "I see the gears in your head locking up." — He joked, trying to relax you and leaving the cards in his lap and resting one of his hands on your leg.

Finally, something landed in your mind; It was completely automatic. — Like a lamp being turned on when touched.

"Well, it's recent, but, it's stuck in my head!" — You started. — "Ah, during the L.A premiere and you were wearing a pendant necklace and there was my initial." — The way you responded was sweet, soft and passionate in front of the camera lenses and people in the room. — "And i was speechless, just admiring that little piece and feeling like the most loved person in the world." — You sighed, with your eyes shining against the oldest's blue orbs.

"In my world, you're." — Tom confessed, looking directly into his eyes and his hand still remained on his leg. — "It was a surprise and i was so excited that i wanted to show it to you ahead of time." — That tall, young British man smiled with passion, which burned in his chest and had no embarrassment in showing it.

"A secret that no one knows and can now be revealed?" —Another slightly peculiar question.

"I have a photo, actually, a polaroid in my wallet." — Tom ran his hands through the pockets of his pants, looking for what he had mentioned, but, from his disappointed frown, the object was not present. — "It's not here, so it must be in your bag."

"100% chance." — Your head nodded, nodding in confirmation. — "Which photo is it?" — You asked, curious and wanting to see her later.

"One of the ones Rachel took backstage and it quickly became one of my favorites." — Without specification, several photos scrolled through your head. — "It was in the forest, and you were wearing a helmet, that of Coriolanus, of peacekeeper." — Oh, that!

"I think I even posted it on Instagram!" — Either it was still in your gallery, with a favorite star next to it, or, actually, in your feed. — "She's so adorable, i had her as the wallpaper on my phone for a long time."

"Now, that one I know very well." — Your boyfriend looked at the card between his fingers and then at you. — "A song that reminds me." — Tom bit his lip, vibrant and with the answer on the tip of his tongue.

"Definitely Daylight by Taylor Swift." — You pointed your index finger in his direction, thinking about more songs or explaining why you chose her. — "It's impressive how you manage to fit so well into almost all of her songs.

"And in all of our playlists, you always, always add this song." — He wasn't lying. — "I'm sure it'll be in my Spotify retrospective."

"Oh, and also that line." — You sat down in the chair again. — "In a world of boys, he's a gentleman." — Tom's ears, and those of some people behind the cameras, were witnesses to your quick and small singing; a lyric, which was also from Taylor, where fans marked it and made a point of putting it in each of his edits. — They've already shared it with you in your DM and you've already saved some videos. — "There are so many songs, i can't choose just one."

"Perfect." — Tom murmured, as his deeply, crystal clear irises admired and contemplated you.

[bubbleebubz]

I can't sleep and I got an idea inspired by @briefkittenearthquake post saying

SO HERE WE ARE. WITH THIS BLUES THAT I DIDN'T PROOF READ BC IT'S 11:35 PM AND I'M IN A DARK CREEPY ROOM

Boy interrupted

WARNINGS: SMUTTTTT

Spencer was a late bloomer, not to mention the fact at the ripe age of 12 he was in high school. To say he didn't get the "full experience" is an understatement. But now, at age 25, Spencer is no better than a teenage boy, he hit puberty at 15, and when I say he sprouted up I MEAN IT. he went from a 5'6 skinny boy to a slim 6 foot something genius.

And now as we sit at our desks in the BAU, he is like a mosquito in my ear.

"Please Y/N, it hurts" he whined in my ear, grinding against my ass as we wait for the elevator to arrive at our floor.,finally getting to end the long day. "Spencer stop, you can wait" I squeak out as k feel his erection pressed firmly against my ass. He begins kissing down my neck when-

*DING*

The elevator doors open, I speed walk into the box of death and turn, waiting for Spencer to follow. "Cameras baby" I whisper out through a smile, to which he rolls his eyes. He is ancy and fiddles with his bag the hole ride down, which was only 1 minute but felt like an eternity to him.

Once we arrive to the apparent, as soon as the door shuts with a click,y back is pressed against the wall, my purse being gently set down onto the table next to the door and kisses are being placed down my neck. I remove my heels as he guides me to the couch. He sits down, looking up with his big brown eyes. Before both his and my own gaze falls down to the evident bulge in his pants, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I walk over before sitting on his lap, not giving him near enough friction. I kiss down his neck at a torturous pace.

"I'm so sorry" he says. "Wha-" before I can even finish the word I'm being lifted and carried to my bed, under him as he kisses me sloppily, passionate with need and desire. He pulls down my skirt and panties before diving in between my legs, lapping up my leaking arousal that had released due to the built up tension. He groans at my taste, probing my entrance with 1 finger before adding another.

"Fuck Spencer just like that" I moan out, my back arching at the pleasure, but he stops.

"Need to be inside you" he whinoers out, un buckling his belt and pants, pulling them down far enough for his cock to be free.

I whimper st the sight, his cock stands tall at a proud 7 inches, his rip is a pretty pink colour, matching his flushed cheeks.

He pumps his cock once then twice before thrusting into me, his cock twitching the ment he enters me. Due to his earlier ministration of eating me out like a man starved, it doesn't take long for me to get close to bliss, especially when he shoves his fingers in my mouth before rubbing my clit in fast tight circles, causing a high pitch moan to leave my lips which is quickly silenced by his lips on mine. "Cum on my cock please, need to feel you around me when you cum" he begs into my ear, his thrusts getting sloppier as he fucks into me, still carring about my own pleasure as well as his own. I cry out as my orgasm breaks through, causing everything to go quiet, only when I feel his hot sticky seed filling me up, do I regain awareness.

"Feel better? " I ask with a chuckle only to moan out as he begins fucking me again. "Not yet" he whines causing me to moan out.

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[zae-heeyyy]

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

[starryjkoo]

"the best trips i've had in my life"

I’m still stuck on Jungkook saying that the AYS trips were the best of his life? That’s actually a crazy thing to say when you look back on those trips and where they went and what exactly they did. Hearing “best trip of your life” you would expect something more grand, but for Jungkook it really was just hanging out with Jimin, doing pretty mundane activities and eating a lot of delicious food. Somehow these trips were impactful enough that he felt they were the best of his life? That’s crazy to me.  

Sapporo was beautiful, but Connecticut was… Connecticut lol, it’s pretty but not that interesting compared to other places they’ve traveled and Jeju is somewhere they’ve both already been plenty of times. The accommodations in Sapporo were especially nice, but CT was a camping van and the house from my suburban nightmares. The Jeju house was gorgeous but not anything particularly new for them either. 

The activities? They definitely did a lot of fun things, but most of them were things they had already done before, some of them even on other seasons of BV or with other members, friends, and on “private” vacations. A lot of the trips were actually filled with pretty mundane activities. Jimin even said in Sapporo that was just how he usually spends his time at home. It gave them an excuse to eat lots of delicious food, but that's hardly the only time they’ve done that either.

And yes, obviously they would enjoy these trips because they basically planned them. But that’s another thing, how compatible Jikook are and how well they click because not everyone would enjoy this kind of trip. Even TH questioned why he came at first because they already do all that in Seoul anyways, or how he went off to play golf one morning. So obviously Jikook were going to enjoy AYS, but I still never thought that these trips would end up being the best of JK’s life? Eating, taking drives and playing around with Jimin really topped every other trip he’s ever been on? 

The Jimin part is important because while some of the activities like snowboarding were fun on their own, what made the little things entertaining was how Jikook could take any simple activity and make it so silly and fun. I especially loved things like Jikook shining their bedside lamps at each other and how delighted JK was with that game, how happy he was when JM started playing along with him. Playing cards or having dinner with someone or playing in a pool, shining your bedside lamp at them or taking a drive wouldn’t be fun if you weren’t with someone who made those kinds of things fun and dynamic, if they couldn’t match your humor and energy. In fact some of those things could be pretty boring or tedious with the wrong person. 

There’s so many delightful examples of Jikook being adorably silly while doing these simple things like the mock cooking show in Sapporo, the way they made that scuzzi jacuzzi so fun with the snow, or Jikook coming up with the pool slap game and being so proud they showed it to TH and taught it to him the next day. You could list off so many examples like this and it’s just one of my very favorite things about AYS and Jikook’s friendship in general. I mean, the amount of mileage they can get out of a tiny pool or some bedside lamps is really crazy. JK talked about how they would be copies of each other if they were the same age and it really shows in AYS.

But what I also think really encapsulates Jikook’s bond is that even when things went wrong, such as in CT, they still had a ridiculous amount of fun and considered it a good trip. The cursed hamburger, Walmart, Jimin’s stomach virus, getting eaten up by mosquitos, getting nailed with rain that felt like hail, JK having a cold, JM getting burned by the motorcycle and then stepped on, JK falling into the river, elbowing JM in the face, JMs nose being bruised half the trip, having a fever, honestly just annoying the hell out of each other lol. But they loved that trip! JK wanted to do twelve more seasons after, they started planning Jeju and future trips before CT was even over, (they signed up to enlist together right after this!), JK recounted the trip to Yoongi with the biggest smile on his face. They enjoyed watching that first episode so much and laughed so hard at moments I didn’t even think were that funny (to be fair they were a little drunk there lmao).  

So, even when things went wrong they still enjoyed their trip immensely because they have the kind of relationship where they can take something bad and bond over the experience, turn it into something positive and memorable, create inside jokes that'll probably last forever. They also never truly got annoyed or stressed out at each other either despite both being sick or tired. You have to be so close and get along with someone so well to be able to do that?

So despite JK going to Jeju & Busan with his 97 liner friends, despite allegedly going to Japan with Eunwoo, despite already going snowboarding with TH and WS, despite any other trips or breaks or BV seasons over the years, despite CT being a mess, Jeju being somewhere they’ve both already been, none of the activities being that new or particularly exciting for them, despite being “company content”, in that moment JK felt so strongly and so positively and so fondly about his AYS experience that they felt like the best trips of his life. You don’t even need JKs words to know that, it was clear by the constant smiles and laughter throughout the show how much he loved it. And what made those trips so fun and impactful was clearly that they were together. That’s just amazing to me? To have someone you get along with so well, someone you have so much fun with and enjoy being around that much? 

I do think these trips offering a break from his insane schedule made them more impactful and meaningful to Jungkook too. You could tell how exhausted he was working nonstop during his solo schedules. Jimin even said in CT he was glad he came because otherwise JK wouldn’t have gotten to do all of those things. It’s funny that solos & tkkrs tried to make it seem like these trips were just piling onto JK’s busy schedule when in fact they seemed to offer him a much needed break to relax and do something fun instead. So the timing of these trips probably did add to why JK loved them so much.

I also think that JK felt so strongly about it specifically in that moment because Sapporo was a pretty emotional trip for them too. Based on JKs words they were also using the trip to make memories to look back on during enlistment, probably also wanted to have one more enjoyable experience before they would have to go away for eighteen months. I think that played a part in this trip feeling more special and sentimental than it ordinarily would have. I thought it was especially sweet how when they were both feeling particularly emotional/melancholy on the train ride they shared that moment together and took comfort in each other. Jimin said that he didn’t think he would have felt excited about the snow in SK, but in Sapporo he loved it so much. And JK saying that he wanted to return to Japan because it was the location of their first trip was terribly sweet. It was a really nice and poignant way to end AYS, because those trips and Sapporo in particular did have a lot of meaning for them, clearly. They truly loved AYS so much.

I have so many other thoughts and feelings about AYS I’d like to unpack eventually but really I think what encapsulates my feelings on AYS is just JK saying that these were the best trips of his life. I guess this is just my really long winded way of saying how special I think Jikook’s bond is. You can’t really argue that JK enjoyed AYS as much as he did for any reason other than that he was with Jimin. Even if JK simply enjoyed getting to take a relaxing trip during his busy schedule, what made a lot of the small things so fun was Jikook’s unique dynamic. That trip wouldn’t have been possible with someone else because quite simply it wouldn't have been the same trip. It had to be Jikook for AYS to be so incredibly relaxing but also have the right amount of activity, eating, and playing, for the simple things to be that enjoyable, the food so prominent, the shared dorky sense of humor, the few moments of softness and vulnerability, the comfortable vibe between them.

I’ve never seen JK yap that much in BTS content either, you can tell how comfortable he is with Jimin in particular and how easy and familiar their dynamic is too. I’ve never honestly seen them that relaxed and stripped back in BTS content before, which was part of the reason I enjoyed AYS so much. I felt like I got to genuinely know them better and I really loved that. They could have made the show more dynamic and entertaining by packing it full of activities or other people, but it seems like the main focus was just doing the things they enjoy doing together and having their ideal vacation, which I massively preferred.

I also thought it was really meaningful that they did their little AYS thing right before they enlisted together. They just really enjoyed that show so much, they really bonded over creating it, had so much fun coming up with the title and the little details, and clearly felt so much genuine fondness for it. For them to end their CH2 with AYS was really meaningful, because that’s literally how they closed out the whole CH2 “solo” era, with something they created together. Just the fact that they were even thinking about AYS in that moment shows how impactful it was for them. Jikook closed out their CH2 together while at the same time entering the next chapter of their lives together too. They just make my heart so warm for real. I really loved AYS so much and I’m so glad that Jikook loved it just as much as we did if not more.

ending this with my favorite Jikook edit ❤️‍🩹

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Moves

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: loosely based off Suki Waterhouse's Moves. It was also supposed to be SMUT, but apparently that wasn't meant to be.

Author's note 2: y'all I meant to post this earlier but got distracted.

Summary: Y/n has had feelings for Andrew for a while now, and she's pretty sure he feels the same. Can one night change everything?

Warnings: unrequited love, but also, more requited than not.

She likes him – maybe its a little more than like, at this point. She adores the colour of his eyes, the way they’re green when its bright out, but then when they meet at dimly lit pubs or he hangs around late at night and neither of them bothers to turn on an overhead light, they’re this dark, hazel hue. She is thrilled by his laugh – not the polite courtesy chuckle he spares when someone tells a joke that isn’t even funny – she means that full bodied sound that erupts from his throat when they’re watching that one episode of that one show, the way he rocks backwards a little and rests his hand over his chest. And there’s something about the way he says her name too, that makes Y/n giddy inside, especially when she picks up his call late at night, while he’s on tour and the rest of the band is asleep but he can’t seem to keep his eyes shut without her voice being the last thing he hears before doing it.

Andrew told her that once;

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried....I need to talk to you first. Hear your voice so I can just...."

"Just what?"

He paused, hesitating, "nothing, I just like the way you sound. That's all."

Y/n could have sworn that it would have been the call that changed everything. She'd held her breath until around two am, when he finally yawned and said he was going to try to get some sleep.

He must feel the same, Y/n determined shortly after that. Because friends don’t sling their long arms around your shoulders, or kiss your forehead right after pulling you against them.

Friends don’t have moments where their lips get so close to the other’s that it won’t expend any real effort to make them to touch.

Andrew was the one to pull away that night and apologize profusely before blaming it on the liquor. She’s never told him, but she wishes he hadn’t. She thinks about it so painfully often that she swears the memory is burning a hole into her heart – the ache of what could've been, but isn’t.

Y/n is thinking about it tonight. They’re sitting on Andrew's back porch, a bottle of wine shared between them. The backyard is illuminated by the light over the wide, glass door that separates his kitchen from the deck, and the blue hued, inground lights that give the pool that sits between his house and the foliage bordering the woods a glacial glow. Off in the distance, she can hear crickets and the occasional rustle of some other, nocturnal creature moving through the trees.

The mood would be entirely romantic if it weren’t for the smell of barbeque and booze clinging to the thick, humid air. It's why they’re outside; its unusually warm and sticky for an Irish October, but Andrew has informed her its becoming typical for this time of the year. He also said that being outside helps, but Y/n thinks that was just an excuse for them to sit outside in hopes that the fresh air would sober them up.

But she doesn’t particularly mind – even if she’s been bitten by a couple mosquitoes.

Everyone else is long gone, and he'd asked her to stay back for a few more drinks while she helped him cram leftovers into his fridge. Its not unusual for her to be the only one left at his place – or vise versa – so Y/n is used to being alone in Andrew’s presence. In fact, she thinks she prefers when its just the pair of them, occupying a quiet space saying nothing but whatever pops into their somewhat inebriated minds;

“I read this poem that made me think of you.”

“I bought you a jacket, but I forgot to pack it.”

“Have you read that book I told you about?”

“Would you read this thing I wrote?” He asks after a couple hours of them going around in circles of menial chatter. Of late, everything Andrew writes is about her, and while he’s thought of telling her that more times than he can count, he can't seem to force the words out of his mouth. It isn’t even that he’s intimidated by her – that would be far too uncomplicated for an overthinker of his caliber. No.

He could never be intimidated by Y/n anyway; he’s known her for too long, too well. She’s the person that puts him most at ease; his heart doesn’t quicken when she touches his arm the way she’s touching it now as she says, “Of course, I’d love to.” In fact, the tick in his chest slows when she does that, he isn't nervous or worried or anything, he's just…. happy. And though her hands are usually so cold, Andrew swears there’s a tingle permeating the thin fabric of his grey Henley when she touches him.

Their eyes meet as Y/n promises to read what he’s written and she finds herself drawing in a shallow breath. There’s something else on the barest top of her liquor-stained tongue, but its refusing to break past her lips;

“I’ll read anything you write. I’d do anything for you, really.”

“Great, great,” Andrew beams suddenly, straightening his back before standing with purpose. “I’m gonna get it, wait here.” He doesn’t wait for Y/n to respond, not even with a nod, before disappearing into the house.

While he’s gone, Y/n tops off those sleek, stemless wine glasses with the remainder of the chilled Sauvignon Blanc and takes a sip of hers, hoping it’ll help combat the sticky heat that’s surrounding the property. She knows she probably shouldn't have anymore; her head is already fuzzy and there’s that tell tale film over her eyes. The one that makes lights stretch out like shooting stars and makes you feel like you're walking through a dream. Andrew must not be any better either, because he stumbled over all too familiar steps on his way back into the house.

“Got it,” he announces as he returns to the patio, raising the notebook over the head in triumph. Andrew is less than graceful when he retires next to her again, dropping the book into her lap. After a lengthy sip of his wine, he leans back onto his elbows. “It's the last thing in there,” his cheeks heat up, the dusty red colour creeping up his cheeks, towards his ears.

He’s a funny sort of drunk; chatty and able to make a joke of literally anything. He’s flirty too, yet somehow retaining his usual reserve. When they venture to pubs, he’ll flirt his way right into a one night stand without even realizing it, and then slink back to her side, rattling off an excuse involving the words, “ehm, well, she isn’t really my type.”

“Yeah? What is your type?” She’d ask, eyes challenging him.

He’ll look at her for a bit longer than usual, squirting his eyes a little as his waning smile fades completely. “Doesn’t matter,” he’ll eventually say dismissively, covering his words with a swing of his drink before changing the topic.

“Its not finished yet,” he mumbles as Y/n finds the page.

“It looks finished,” Y/n frowns, looking down at the way he’s signed the bottom of the page, the way he usually does after scrawling out the final words.

Andrew shakes his head, “ehm, I mean….the idea. I’m not done with the idea.”

“Oh.” They lapse into easy silence when she starts reading, meticulously scanning every line, barely restraining herself from ghosting her thumb over his hurried, untidy penmanship. Y/n can feel Andrew’s eyes on her as she reads. He's still laid back and propped on one elbow as he steadily sips his wine while she tries to get her hazy mind to comprehend everything on the page.

Its a love song or a profession – or she’s pretty fucking drunk and has lost all ability to to comprehend words.

No, its definitely a confession. A beautifully written one. Of course everything he writes is always much akin to poetry; but with this, every word is strung together like tiny bulbs in a reel of fairy lights. Each one in perfect harmony with the other. They’re carefully chosen, as if just one were missing its entire, delicate balance would be pitched into uncertainty.

“Andrew….” He sits up, draining the last of his wine as she lifts her head from the page.

“Is it bad? The worst fuckin’ thing I’ve ever written?” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he flashes her a lopsided smile.

“It's beautiful,” Y/n rasps, suddenly feeling like the air’s been knocked from her chest, or like she’s been running too fast. There’s something besides the night’s oppressive heat surrounding them, something fragile and precious. Part of her wants to say something else, she can see on his face that he’s aching for more, but Y/n is absolutely terrified that if she does, it’ll be the wrong thing and the moment will be shattered into a million little pieces, scattered across the forests behind his house by an unexpected breeze, the way it happened on a night all too similar to this one.

“But?” Andrew is the one that dares to speak, the word uttered softly and with the weight of reproach clinging to its single syllable.

God, what if he’s ruined everything? What if the reason he’s never been able to tell Y/n the way he feels is because a morsel deep within him knows she doesn’t return his feelings. Andrew doesn’t even know if she’s interested in a relationship – or anything adjacent – right now, she doesn’t talk about going on dates and or fancying anyone.

What if the reason she never talks about other men is because she’s somehow gathered how he feels and is trying to protect him from the hurt? That would be awfully cruel, but he supposes it's the kindest thing she can do without ruining their friendship.

“But….” Right before her, in a matter of seconds, a dozen emotions cross Andrew's face and Y/n realizes that, if she’d been in front of a mirror the night he told her he likes hearing her voice before he goes to sleep, this is what she might have seen reflected in it. That cautious hope, with a bit of fear sprinkled in.

Upon realizing that there's no ‘perfect’ thing to say, Y/n hastily leans forward and rests her lips on his, in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. He’s shocked at first, she can feel it in the way he stiffens. But after another couple breaths spent like that, Andrew wraps an arm around her, flattening his palm on the center of her back. As he relaxes, Y/n deepens the kiss, deserting the book in her lap to cup his face. His beard tickles the inside of her hands, just like she’s always imagined it would, and his tongue and lips are sweet with the wine’s fruity notes.

When they break, faces only inches apart, Andrew lets out a shaking breath while Y/n holds onto hers. “God….I don’t think I would’ve ever done that,” he admits, shoulders rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.

Sometimes he wishes he had her courage, but most times, he’s glad its hers.

A hint of a smile tugs at her kiss-swollen lips. “I know,” she laughs softly, the sound airy and musical.

Her eyes are twinkling, like two stars plucked from right over the vast bed of darkness hung over their heads. Andrew is certain that no two stars have ever shone brighter, so its fitting that they belong to her – the most dazzling person he knows. Setting his glass down, he lifts his free hand to her cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it for a damn long time,” he admits. It's hard for him to put a definite number to it, it might as well have been very soon after they met.

“Me too,” Y/n rests her hand over his wrist, offering it an affectionate squeeze.

“I think…..” he trails off, struggling to keep a firm grip on his thoughts. His imagination is running a little wild right now; his mind is already churning out thoughts of his future as it changes shape. It's funny to him how one thing can change everything else.

One kiss, and he swears he’s seeing the rest of his life. Holding it.

“Sshh, we don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Y/n whispers. Talking complicates – they’ve been talking for too damn long anyway, and knowing Andrew, his brain is already three weeks ahead of him. Its sweet actually, because every plan she’s made for her future has been built around him, and now suddenly, he’s doing the same thing. “Lets just….”

“Just what?”

“Do this,” in an instant, Y/n closes the space between them again and seals her lips over Andrew’s. That time, he responds immediately, pulling her against him until the only thing left for her to do is slide her leg over his thighs and shuffle into his lap, pressing her chest to his and draping one arm over his shoulder while she keeps her other against his cheek. The way his beard scratches the area around her mouth makes her smile, and she thinks its something she'll get used to quickly.

All of it is so close to being as commonplace his arm slung around her shoulders and the sound of his voice coming through her phone while there’s a timezone and entire ocean between them. The way his mouth moves against hers, the heat of his hands as they hold onto her waist, the sound of his voice as he says;

“I’m glad you stayed.”

[thebluester2020]

can't tell if requests are open, but can you do sdv bachelors reactions to female farmer with a GYATT 😼💪🏽

Summary: Bachelors reacting to a farmer with a crazy shelf. Warning(s): Crack, Fluff, Some 18+ NSFW + Suggestiveness. Side note(s): My req(s) are always open ngl. I just take forever to get to stuff tbh 😭

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

[Pre-Relationship]

Ngl, he really wouldn't know what to do with himself. Especially when he first meets you.

I'm more than certain he'll be respectful and won't make it super obvious that he's looking but I wanna reference that one scene from Smiling Friends where Pim is struggling not to look at this one guy while a mosquito is sucking on his eye.

You wanna look (it's fucking killing you to keep your eyes down) but god, it would feel so good to just look for more than a few seconds.

And don't get me started if he accidentally brushes up against it while you two are close next to each other (say like- a busy tavern).

He's jerking off the second he gets home.

[Established Relationship]

When you two are dating, however, Elliot will still be respectful but he'll allow himself to touch you more often (as well as look).

But I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that he won't be extremely blatant in regards to your ass but will more so show it.

Wearing dress? All of a sudden he's behind you and admiring your figure by placing a hand just above your butt, even going so far as to rub small circles into your back as a sign that he could and wants to go lower (you have to repeatedly tell him its okay to touch you more intimately).

If you're wearing shorts? I think he's definitely had more than a few moments where he's spat out his tea (or nearly choked on something) when you suddenly bend down in front of him to pick something up.

He also had some moments where he's taken you at random just because his hard-on is too much to bear from seeing you walk around all day being thick with no consequences.

All in all though?

Definitely an ass man <3

Sebastian

[Pre-Relationship]

To start this off, I will literally fight anyone when I say- Sebastion is a boob man and no one can change my mind.

With that being said-

Just because the man has preferences doesn't mean he's going to sit and deny you have junk in the trunk.

So I like to think that before you guys are dating, he sees the crazy shelf but he's not going wild and rocking a hard-on just from spotting it once.

It's more of a- "Damn, farmer's got that ass" and he moves on.

Ngl, he will think about how it feels from time to time though

[Established Relationship]

Now, once you two start dating. It's an entirely different ballgame after that.

He's touching your ass any chance he gets.

When you two fuck? All of a sudden he prefers positions where your ass is the center of attention.

When munch mode is activated. He'll gladly eat it from the back.

But I think his favorite part of you having a crazy shelf? It would probably be when you two are cuddling tbh.

It's super soft to the touch and kinda like a stress ball so when you two are relaxing together, he kinda just...squeezes it. It would happen so often that where you don't really pay attention to it anymore.

If you're sitting on his lap while he's working on his computer or playing video games, he's going to grab it.

If you're laying on top of him in his bed, guess what?

You guessed it, he's grabbing it.

Sam

[Pre-Relationship]

If you've followed my blog for a little bit. You probably already know how this is going to go with Sam-

Perv Mode is online

When he sees you for the first time, and you turn around. Sam's eyes would nearly bulge out of his head.

But similarly to Elliot, he'll be respectful in the sense that he doesn't want to creep you out or make him think that he's some type of pervert.

However, once he gets home that night?

Definitely jerking it, maybe even watching a couple videos on his phone with a girl that looks suspiciously like you.

But on the flip side, each time he sees you or you decide to visit his house with a gift for him. He'll blush like a sinner in church each and every time.

[Established Relationship]

He becomes touchy to the max.

Like I'm talking that his hand is on your body (mostly your ass) ninety percent of the time.

However, hear me out on this one, I don't think he'd really care about the sex part per se? (Not that I'm saying he doesn't like positions where he can see it jiggle at maximum efficiency)

Sam would be more of a fan of the clothing, to be honest.

Tight dresses, shorts that just barely cover the underside of your butt etc.

Those are what really get him off 'cause it's teasing for him. The anticipation of being able to feel all up on you as soon as you're finished with your errands from the day and you're back inside your shared farmhouse.

Side headcanon though; I'm a firm believer that Sam would be a huge fan of you teasing him by rubbing your ass over his crotch over his clothes. Just saying.

Alex

[Pre-Relationship]

Okay so Alex is yet another guy that I think is a boob man but, ass is ass and he's not going to deny you've got that gyatt.

But I do also believe that he make it more obvious where his eyes are going when you're around him?

Like if you're talking to someone in a crowd and he's around, he's not going to hide that his eyes are landing on your butt.

And if you're close by his side, his hand will practically be twitching for a teensy feel.

Ultimately though, he'll keep his hands to himself.

[Established Relationship]

King of Backshots.

I know I just said he's a certified boob man but once again, he's not going to lie that you have a fattie.

So with that being said, his preferred positions? They're in a wide variety (when he's not preferring a mating press so he has a good view of your boobs ofc)

Doggy, Reverse Cowgirl, Prone-boning. If your ass is the center of attention then he's going it.

Also I headcanon that if he was on a professional Gritball team then he would definitely brag to his teammates about his partner who has a fat ass.

Low-key I think he'd be open to sharing you ngl. But he's the only one who gets to cum inside you.

Harvey

[Pre-Relationship]

The most respectful man on this list.

If you have a crazy shelf of an ass then ofc he'll see it but he won't see it.

He'll keep his eyes up and to your face the entire time.

Hell, I don't think he'll even dare to let his eyes wander a little out of respect for a potential patient.

That being said, once he's off the clock. He'll probably have flashbacks to you here and there.

[Established Relationship]

Even when he's got you locked in, he's still respectful.

Similar to Sebastion though, I think him being touchy with your butt is going to mostly be reserved for cuddling sessions and when y'all are having sex.

But hear me out on this one in regards to that, while I do believe he'll be a fan of positions where he sees it jiggle.

I think he's more of a fan of positions where he can more so feel it closer to him. Say like spooning sex and other positions that require you to be really close to him.

Then again, Harvey strikes me as that one meme of "My favorite position is seeing you happy" so there's that <33.

Shane

[Pre-Relationship]

I think this man nearly spits out his drink when he first spots you.

Like- no shame to my SDV men/women (except my queen Haley, she'll always be thicc as hell in my head) but I don't think many of them would appeal to Shane aside from Emily??

So when the farmer rolls into the valley, thick as hell. I think Shane develops a low-key crush the second he sees you.

But here's the thing, he wouldn't think of you inappropriately cause he's thinking "Oh, they'd never be into me. There are more appealing people here than me."

So any temptations he has to masturbate to the thought of you? They're quickly snuffed out by those thoughts.

However, that doesn't mean those urges don't pop up frequently every time you decide to visit him in shorts that hug tightly around your thighs.

Or when you wear a sundress that makes him do a cartoon gulp.

Little did he know you were wearing those on purpose.

[Established Relationship]

When you two start dating? Oh boy, prepare yourself.

It's like a volcano erupting basically. Everything he's held himself back from doing, everything he's wanted to do to/with you?

He's trying to do it all immediately to make up for lost time.

From plowing you against the back of your farmhouse, the slaps of your ass against his pelvis sounding wayyyy better in reality than what they did when the thought would flash through his head.

Or maybe even fucking you into the bedsheets!

The world is his oyster now <3.

And he's just glad that he has his fat-assed lover by his side to do everything with now.

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, dark themes, mention of drug use and cheating, stalking, obsession, König’s pov

A/n: it’s a prequel to my Fuck or Die fic, so go check it out<3 Will this be the beginning of psychotic yan! König series?? Maybe🤭

Crouched in uncomfortable position, fabric on his knees was damp from wet soil on which König was kneeling, mosquitos buzzing all over his head, all eager to drink of his warm blood - but he didn’t budge, staying still like a panther observing its next prey. Soft rustling filled König’s ears, warm breeze ruffling up the leaves of dense shrubbery among which man sat, completely concealing his bulky form.

König’s mouth filled with saliva, dilated pupils concealed the icy blue of his eyes, making them look pitch black. He swallowed hard, exhaling as slowly as he could through his nose, a spark of excitement settling somewhere deep within his stomach, watching unblinkingly through thick lenses of his binoculars two bodies swirling together.

In a building about three hundred meters afar all widows were free from curtains, revealing the insides of the house. With thumping heart König watched guy’s hands slip down Y/n’s sides, caressing sweet indent of her waist, down to soft hips and lower, finally resting on two hemispheres of girl’s plump ass. He noted how her back arched ever so slightly, pushing further into her boyfriend’s chest, hot mouthes connecting in a sloppy kiss, bright blush dusting Y/n’s soft cheeks and pointy tips of her ears.

Breaking apart shortly after, König’s sharp eyes watched guy’s lips move. “I love you” he said and König couldn’t help but snort in amusement, memories from only few hours earlier were still fresh in his head - how that motherfucker offered to give that cute cheerleader girl from his class a ride home, pulling up in an empty parking lot, not even ten minutes later his car was shaking from side to side. Still, Y/n smiled softly at his words, making König’s jaw clench. He could do so much better.

König didn’t expect much from you at first. Truth be told - it wasn’t you who caught his attention, but your boyfriend, especially where he lived. A huge house on the outskirts - closest neighbouring cottages were at best one kilometre away, making this place a perfect target for König’s next outing. So he came to studying its inhabitants more closely - a family of three - couple in their fifties and their only son. How better can it possibly get?

So König entered his usual routine - first and most important step was to learn more about his future victims, their routines and people they were close with. It was very easy with parents - an average boring life consisting of work, household and a dinner at local restaurant every Saturday. But slasher couldn’t say the same about their child.

From the very first hours König felt deep disdain for that guy. Everything about him just felt fake. A perfect son and excellent boyfriend, captain of local football team, goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong in his whole life - everyone’s golden boy, all bright smiles and promising future. The exact same one who snorted cocaine in stale bathrooms of gas stations, hands too shaky and mind too numb from withdrawal to actually process his surroundings; the one who, stoned out of his head, gladly threw himself in embrace of other women, hardly remembering sweet face of his girlfriend.

Oh, his girlfriend. Y/n - a sweet and lovely little thing, all butterflies and unicorns, never once failing to hold König’s full attention without slightest intention of doing so.

Watching Y/n has always been way more fun and exciting for him. König guessed it had something to do with her demeanour - so drastically different from his own, that attracted him so much. How bubbly and vibrant you were, making everything around you play with new colours, just like a little ray of sunshine - something König has never been.

Oftentimes slasher caught himself listening intently to you going over newest gossip with your best friend over the phone (wiretapping is way easier than one may think), your sweet voice filling his ears like honey, soothing his raging thoughts buzzing within his skull, clinging to every smallest word you said. It didn’t take much time for König to find your socials as well, spending way much longer than he should studying your pictures, breathing becoming shallow and his dick twitching at the sight of your puffy lips, often imagining how they’d look like wrapper around his shaft.

What König took special liking of was to watch your nightly routine. It was a stable and never changing chain of events - hot shower, skincare, rubbing moisturiser into your feet, shins and hands, and then finally tucking yourself comfortably in soft bed. It was nothing special, yet König craved to be a part of it. Craved to be the one applying whatever shit that was on your pretty face, to massage good-smelling mixtures onto your cheeks

Back to reality, König watched both Y/n and that little boyfriend of hers settling down in the couch, starting some soap opera on big TV screen.

Maybe now? König’s whole body froze at sudden thought. He swallowed hard once again, his mind racing, adrenaline burning through his veins at the intensity of this idea alone. Guy’s parents were out of town, meaning that him and Y/n were all alone in the house. König glanced at the black sport bag lying right next to him on damp ground, electricity tingling his fingertips - he had all necessary stuff packed with him, just go for it.

Slasher gazed through binoculars once again, blue eyes fixating upon you two cuddled up on the couch, man’s mind now filling with all the possible things he could do to the motherfucker, sight of him holding you so gently making König’s blood boil.

Reaching over to his bag murderer opened it, pulling out his mask and checking if voice changer was working still. All of König’s thoughts dissipating into nothingness the moment soft fabric of under mask touched the skin of his cheeks, leaving place for only one thing:

Soon she will be mine

[cherrygirlfriend]

kook!reader camping with bf!pope heyward

warnings: fluffy smut, loss of virginity, awkwardness but in a sweet way, praise, MDNI i really wanted to write something sweet but also smutty and i got this idea a few days ago ,,, also as someone who was a girl scout for six years pope being a former boy scout is canon in my heart. anyway i'm definitely gonna write more kook!reader x pope bc i love their dynamic sm … currently planning a moodboard for them

when pope's great idea for your birthday was to take you camping, to say you were reluctant would be an understatement, especially since your initial plan was to lose your virginity on said day, and the thought of sleeping in the middle of some forests surrounded by mosquitos and god knows what kind of wild animals wasn't exactly your idea of a "romantic evening."

you couldn't help it, you had always been a planner, and when pope had brought up the idea of camping with you for your birthday, you had subtly tried to tell him it wasn't something you were too interested, but the boy seemed so sweetly clueless about it, you didn't want to burst his bubble of excitement, especially when he showed you the camping gear he'd dug up from his storage from his days as a boy scout.

so, you just decided to try and make it as romantic as possible. your parents had conveniently misplaced one of their expensive bottles of wine, which had somehow ended up in your trunk, and you had purchased a new lingerie set as well as condoms, wanting to make sure you were prepared.

you were pacing around your bedroom, your duffle bag having been packed with the things you'd need; you didn't know why you were nervous, it wasn't like you'd never done anything sexual, and more often than not, your heated makeout sessions in your bed ended up with his hand in your panties or his cock in your mouth.

but the thing was... he had no idea that you were a virgin. sure, you had boyfriends before him, but most of the time things stayed strictly hand-or-mouth zone. but honestly, the moment you two drove to the nearby cliffs and he told you about the different constellations, you were ready to jump him right there, but you didn't want to give him the wrong idea, so you simply adored him while the boy pointed out the stars to you. however, after a few weeks of dating, he drunkenly told you about how he'd only slept with one person, and was kind of worried that you were more experienced, which you found adorable.

but, when you finally heard your doorbell ring, you took a deep breath, and tried to calm yourself down before having to face your boyfriend and have the boy realize that you had just spent the entire morning overthinking a simple camping trip.

"are we going where i think we're going?" you asked pope, the boy driving your car, having nicked your sunglasses off the dashboard, now covering his eyes, and to be fair, they looked much better on him than they did on you.

"damn, have i already lost the ability to surprise you?" he chuckled, making you roll your eyes playfully, the boy taking your right hand into his and pressing a kiss onto it, "we are. but i have a surprise for you waiting there."

honestly, i should've known that the place he was taking me was the location of our first date even before he turned the car on; he wouldn't really admit it, but there was a part of him that could be incredibly cheesy, and you liked that about him. most of the guys you'd dated before him hadn't been nearly as thoughtful as pope was, and even though you'd only dated him for a few months, he'd been more considerate than some boyfriends you'd been with for close to a year.

it wasn't long until the two of you arrived near the cliffs where you'd had your first date, pope taking your hand into his as you traipsed through the woods, the boy much more comfortable in the terrain that you were, and whenever you were about to trip, he steadied you, trying not to laugh.

you gasped when you finally realized what pope's surprise was, when you noticed a tent perched close to the cliff, overlooking the water. the two of you walked closer to it, and that was when you realized that pope had put up fairy lights all around the tent, and there was a blanket that stretched all the way over to the cliff so you could sit there and look at the stars like you'd done on your first date.

"do you like it?" he asked, as he wrapped his warm arms around you, and you looked up to him with a smile, nodding eagerly, the sight in front of you causing your heart to clench in your chest. "i love it."

"how many times do i need to tell you to blow on it?" pope laughs, almost doubling over on the blanket as he just watched while you struggle with the s'more, letting the gooey confection fall onto a plastic plate before you took a large chug of wine from your plastic cup, the liquid now lukewarm.

you'd spent the day swimming, watching while pope surfed, playing cards, and simply talking, now he was blowing onto your s'more, while the two of you sat on the blanket on the cliff, and as you felt the wine starting to warm you up, the last thing you cared about was your damn s'more, but you also didn't know how to initiate, the boy always-

"i wanna have sex."

before you could think about your wording any more, it just... slipped out, pope's eyes widening as he let out a cough, nearly choking on his wine as he processed your words. "what?" he asked in between coughs, and you waited for him to start coughing before repeating yourself.

"i wanna have sex. with you, if that wasn't clear." you said, clearing your throat, "that came out... more straightforward than i intended." you said with a small smile, feeling your cheeks warm up as you looked down at the ground.

"are... are you sure?"

"yeah. i mean, i've wanted it for a really long time, but i suck at initiating any of that stuff, and i haven't ever done it before so it's probably gonna be awkward and if you don't want to, that's also fine and i can definitely wait even longer but-"

before you could babble any longer, pope pressed his lips on yours, and somehow his kiss could make you forget everything you were thinking about, your focus only on him as he pulled you closer by your waist, hunger evident in every move he made as if he hadn't just eaten three s'mores, his lips tasting of the red wine you'd been sharing.

he pulled away from the kiss, the palm of his hand moving to cup your cheek, "i'd love to, but... are you sure? like... absolutely sure? you really haven't... done it before?"

"i'm more than sure." you say, your voice weak from the effect his kiss had on you, "i've known pretty much from the first time you kissed me right here. you're... just the sweetest guy i know. you're so smart, and... i've never liked anyone as much as i like you."

"you're adorable." he says as he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, "i, uhh... i just don't have any..." pope clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and although you didn't know it, he was internally cursing himself for not accepting the condom jj had offered him earlier. "protection, y'know."

"i do."

pope almost let out a chuckle at how fast you had rebutted his words, the boy watching as you pulled out a condom from your purse, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "you came prepared, huh?" he couldn't help but grin, his amusement only heightening when he saw the pout on your face, the boy pressing a small kiss on your lips, "i think that's cute."

it wasn't long until the two of you were tangled on the blanket under the stars, pope's shirt thrown into the tent, your dress pushed up until it was only covering your breasts, pope kneading the fat of your ass, his lips greedily consuming yours.

he pulled away from the kiss, leaving the both of you panting and breathless, his calloused hands pulling your dress off in its entirety, throwing it into the tent, his lips attaching themselves to your neck while you unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, one of his fingers slipping into your panties, the boy letting out a small chuckle into the crook of your neck when he felt how wet you were.

when the rest of your clothes were discarded, you watched as he rolled the condom onto his hard cock with a sigh, biting down on your lip as a mixture of eagerness and nervousness rolled around in your abdomen.

"tell me if it hurts too much, or if you want to stop, alright?" he looked at you with raised brows, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips as his chest was pressed against yours, pope brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "i will." you smiled, positioning your hands on his shoulders.

you weren't quite prepared for the loud gasp that he'd pull you from you when only the tip of his cock was in you; sure, he'd prepared you and tried to stretch you out with his fingers beforehand, but even his thick digits hadn't prepared you enough.

"are you alright?" he paused his movements, peppering soft kisses on your neck, "just tell me if you want me to stop."

"i'm okay..." you said breathlessly, "go ahead."

it took you a while to get used to feeling him stretch you out, it definitely didn't help that pope was probably the biggest guy you had dated, but slowly it started hurting less and less, the boy whispering sweet words into your ear as he moved inside of you slowly, your back arching against the blanket, your nails digging into his back every time he bottomed out inside of you, causing him to let out low groans every time he hit that spot inside of you.

"you're doing so well..." he spoke softly, his thumb rolling over your clit, slowly starting to pick up his pace, "taking me so well... don't know how i went so long without you, you feel so fucking good..."

his lips attached themselves to one of your hardened nipples, your mind turning hazy as you tried to focus on all the sensations pope was making you feel, the coil in your stomach growing with every roll of his hips, one of your hands in his hair as you let out a moan, arching into his mouth.

"pope, i'm getting close..." your words were between a mumble and moan, but it seemed that pope still understood what you had said, picking up his pace just slightly so it'd be easier for you to achieve your orgasm.

it wasn't long until you were moaning out his name, overcome with your orgasm as he continued moving inside of you, slowing down his movements as he let you ride out your orgasm.

when pope had come undone himself, he threw the used condom into the trash bag he had brought, pulling you close to his chest as he pressed a kiss on top of your head, covering your naked bodies with another blanket.

"that's cepheus." he said against your hair, pointing up at one of the constellations in the sky while you simply nuzzled closer to his chest, letting out a soft "mmhm..." as you closed your eyes, somehow feeling more comfortable on a cliff in the middle of the forest than you even did in your own bed. "happy birthday."

BONUS: before he came to see you, when pope told his friends about what his plan for your birthday was, jj definitely clapped him on the back and said, "you're finally gonna get laid!" and tried to get him to take a condom with him, but pope just looked at him murderously.

[izzabela]

Hi there! 👋 I hope you are doing well! Can you please write about Smoke getting jealous because Takeda keep hanging around the female reader that Smoke harbors romantic feelings for a long time and Takeda knows and he is purposely grinding Smoke's gears to get him to snap? (P.S Takeda and Kuai Liang teamed up and came up with the plan) 😜

Games - Tomas x fem!reader

in which a certain ninja is playing games with another ninja

a/n: "they call us the kombat kids" is my favorite intro line from that silly ninja

ship[s]: tomas vrbada x fem!reader

warning(s): post-story

Tomas glares at a certain yellow-black ninja that hovered around you like a mosquito. Except your blood wasn't being sucked by it.

Tomas stood across you and Takeda, opposite ends of a sparring circle as you three were monitoring Hanzo's progress. He didn't care, though, not when Takeda was grinning like an idiot as he slung his arm around your shoulder.

Tomas grumbles, feet practically digging into the ground as smoke fizzles around his body.

Tomas had a blazing crush on you, you see. A friend of Harumi, you were training under her clan to sharpen your skills, and that's where his crush began to flourish into love.

He couldn't say anything though. It was too risky with the life he lives, the life you live. It wasn't that you were a distraction (hell no, he loved your "distraction", it was a break from this war he was fighting).

So, until this job was done, he'd have you by his side as a friend and warrior. Nothing more. However, it was quite clear to everyone in the compound that he was pining after you.

You two would be seen at the hip, walking together, eating together, sparring too. He treated your wounds when no one was available, and you did the same. He ran errands for you, took over missions for you.

It was so obvious. Now though, it might be ruined.

Takeda joined the clan for a bit because of Kenshi. Takeda needed a place to master his anger, frustration, especially with his own trauma from the Yakuza. After some a couple of weeks, though, he integrated well with the clan.

A little too well for Tomas's sake.

Takeda began to hang around you and Tomas. More-so you than him. He inserted himself between you two, and Tomas was not pleased that his best friend slash crush was being taken away.

But who was he to control you and who you made friends with? That would be rude, and controlling, and he wanted you to be happy first and foremost.

His patience was running thin though.

Takeda first began by hanging around you two. It was friendly, getting to know you with simple and cordial conversation. It then turned into Takeda having you to himself when you were alone.

You two were having lunches together, sparring, even spending time with Hanzo when he had his breaks. Tomas swears he couldn't find you when Takeda wasn't on missions.

The final stage of Takeda's competition against Tomas was his... "hands-on" approach with you. Takeda, despite his pain and trauma caused by the senselessness of the Yakuza, remained touchy with close friends and allies. Except you, though.

He loved to hug you, squeeze your sides and tickle them. He loved to ruffle your hair, pat your head, and noogie it too.

When you guys were alone together, he'd sling his arm around your should and hug you close (like he was now). He'd skillfully play into his good looks, winking and leaning down to hear you better (girls like that? he had thought).

It annoyed Tomas to no end. He could not get you by yourself without that idiot around you. He did not want to think ill of him, but with the stunts he was pulling was pushing him further and further to the edge.

Just like he was now.

Back in the present, Tomas glared at you and Takeda, trying to zone in on the conversation you two were having. He couldn't really focus, though, when you were laughing, teeth out as you smiled at a joke(?). Takeda chuckles as well, and his arm slinks down from your shoulders to your waist.

His gloved arm rests on the small of your back, and Tomas can see you shiver at the sensitive touch. Tomas breathes in deep controlling the rage that bubbles in his veins.

"Tomas, Tomas!" Hanzo calls out, tugging on his uniform. "Did you see that?!" he exclaims as pops jabs into the air.

Takeda chuckles, coming over to the both of them with a friendly smile. You follow behind him, and your arms are wide open as Hanzo comes running to you in a hug.

"You did so great Hanzo!" you gush. "My, I believe we have our first full initiate!" You noogie his hair, and he giggles.

Suddenly, and without warning, Hanzo sneaks a kiss on your cheek. You're shocked as you touch the spot that he kissed, and Hanzo runs away to his other initiate friends. Takeda chuckles, coming to your side again.

"Who taught the boy to do that?" you question, a little laugh coming out as you watched Hanzo play tag with the other younglings.

Tomas sighs, a small smile as he watches his disciple play. "No matter, I will tell him not to do it again." Takeda chuckles, bringing you close to his side as his face is close to yours.

"T-Takeda!" you gasp. His voice is nice and low, nuzzling into your head before planting a little kiss on it.

Tomas threw his karambit near his foot, barely a centimeter near his toe.

"Away, Takeda," Tomas barely gets out of his gritted teeth. Takeda smirks, planting a very quick kiss on your cheek. He lets go of you, and Tomas makes a fast beeline for his dagger to try and cut the ninja. His pupils are small, and his irises take over completely.

"Tomas! Stop this instant!" you scold him.

Takeda has already run off, and Tomas is breathing heavy as you hold his arm back from him biting that man's head off.

"What's gotten into you?" hands on your hips as you interrogate him. "He's just being friendly..."

Tomas turns to you, a scoff coming from his mouth, "That isn't friendly. That's pushy, obnoxious, idiotic competition!" He tries to control himself, but you're stuck on the last word.

"H-hold on, competition?" You chuckle as you fix your hair, "Is this some cheesy romance novel?" Tomas burns with embarrassment as you poke his buttons to get him to talk.

Tomas swats your arms away, and you're a bit taken aback to how defensive he is. You can see how nervous he is, like an awkward teenager who wants to confess to the hottest girl at school.

Right now, you were the hottest girl, and the compound was school.

"I'll just say it," Tomas gives in. "I like you. I love you, even."

You blink, wanting to interject but he refuses. "Just let me talk." You nod.

"Since forever, I've always liked you. You were- are- a great warrior, strong, kind, and beautiful," Tomas goes on.

"You're amazing, shining so brightly. But I... I couldn't say anything." You look at Tomas with a frown, approaching him slowly as you slip your fingers in his hand.

"So why... why didn't you tell me?" you asked. "Why didn't you say anything until Takeda did stuff?"

Tomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before he explains further.

"I'd like to say I was keeping it at bay. Until we finished this fight, the one with my brothers," you listen with bated breath. "I know you can handle yourself, but this war is relentless- I may lose you."

You sigh, closing the gap between you and his chest as your other arm reaches for his cheek.

"We may not know what the future holds, Tomas," you say softly. "But we have now. That's all. If we wait, the things we're waiting for will slip from us."

Tomas watches as your hand, the one in his hand, guides him to the back of your head. He sucks in a breath as you pull yourself closer into his chest.

"Don't let this slip, Tomas." You whisper, looking up into his eyes as he looks down at your colored orbs.

He caves, and he leans in to lock lips with you. By the gods, your lips were pillowy soft, and you tasted like honey and lavender. Deeper yhis tongue went into your mouth, and your lips fought with his as you craved the distinct taste his lips had.

Letting go, you're both panting. Wiping your lips, you smile happily, the same smile with all your pearly whites on display. Tomas chuckles, and he nuzzles your nose as your foreheads touch.

"Did I take my shot well?" Tomas asks giddily. You nod and give him a chaste kiss.

"Right on my heart, dearest Tomas."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bonus!

Takeda knocks on the door of Kuai Liang's office. He can hear soft padding on the ground, and the door opens with Harumi's presence.

"Takeda! What ring's you by?" Harumi asks kindly as she makes way for him to walk through. Takeda smiles and walks in, and Kuai Liang makes an entrance from the bathroom.

"Just here to bring news to your husband," Takeda shrugs.

"Well? How did it go?" Kuai asks, his black locks down as he dries his hair. "Did he do it?"

Takeda laughs, taking his phone out with a picture of Tomas and you kissing with the sunset in the background. Kuai Liang smiles, taking his phone and showing Harumi the fruit of his labor.

"Oh!" she gasps, hand over her heart plus a smile. "My my, they're finally together!"

"Pay up, bro!" Takeda beckons, hand out waiting for his money. Kuai Liang takes out a couple hundred yen, shoving the bills in his hand as Takeda whoops and cheers.

"You even bet on this, husband?" Harumi interrogates. Kuai Liang quickly ushers Takeda out before he hears Harumi rip a new on in him.

=====================

GUYS I CANT WAIT FOR THE DLC YAYAYAYAYA

i cannot wait to see where this new timeline goes

aight, see yall in the next fic!