#feel free to share your own swear words in the tags <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[one-bunny-a-day]

21/02/2023

today's bunny knows many languages!

[frvnkcastles]

heyy i love you writing 💓(reader and frank who are dating) and she is diagnosed with anxiety and starts shaking uncontrollably during a meeting with friends and Frank notices and helps her.

YOUR SWEET HAVEN ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank helps you through a peak in your anxiety during a night out.

Warnings: Anxiety, mostly fluff, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s note: Anxiety is such a bitch, I swear. Like I wrote in the fic, I feel like Frank would/does struggle greatly with anxiety about losing his loved ones but I don’t think he’s really a socially anxious person? Just a very introverted kind of guy. So I feel like he’d totally understand some aspects but others he’d have to learn about a lil more and he’d gladly do it for his partner. Just my two cents on it :) Hope you enjoy, anon, and I’m sending you lots of hugs!! You’re not alone <3

Frank’s first impression had been that you were sweet as hell but extremely, highly shy. His attempts to get to know you had required some effort as you had always steered the conversation away from yourself or given him half-answers, but when he had told you he could leave you alone, you had quickly protested. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy his company — you just weren’t the best when it came to having attention on you.

When you spent more and more time together, it dawned on him that you weren’t shy. It was anxiety driving you to stutter and apologize over and over again, even about things that weren’t your fault, and it made you fidget and overthink and feel nauseous; all things he either noticed with time or you shared with him. It was embarrassing sometimes, the way your anxiety limited you and turned the simplest situations into ordeals, but Frank was understanding. For him, anxiety manifested through his fear of losing people, but he didn’t really struggle with the social aspect, being a bold, direct person who didn’t really care what people thought of him, yet he still knew it wasn’t a choice. You couldn’t help it, and he didn’t make you feel any lesser for that.

Even before you started officially dating, he went out of his way to reassure and encourage you. Whenever you got stuck in a loop of apologies and overexplaining yourself, he shushed you softly and promised you that he knew exactly what you meant and that there was no need to be sorry for what you had said or done. This happened often when you talked about his family and you were afraid of overstepping or upsetting him, only for him to calm your racing mind down and insist that he wouldn’t have brought the topic up if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

But he wasn’t too careful with you. He also knew when and how to be firm, and it often came out when you had a phone call to make or an appointment to attend. Especially if it was something important like getting your prescription refilled or seeing your doctor about the palpitations in your chest, he wasn’t playing around — he made you do it, convinced that you had it in you, but holding your hand through it, regardless. If you ever felt too anxious to go anywhere alone, all you had to do was call him and he would be right there.

He understood and listened to your worries, and that was probably why you fell so hard for him. No one had ever been so open-minded and judgment-free with you, and it was refreshing and left you thinking about him day and night. In fact, your anxious thoughts had to step aside to make room for Frank. He could tell you were into him, and the feeling was very much mutual, and so, you both took a leap of faith and decided to give it a go.

He met your friends early on, and they all approved of him pretty quickly, as they could see just how head over heels he was for you. It was no surprise that he was invited to multiple outings — while you still had girls’ nights every now and then, they really didn’t mind Frank tagging along, especially if they had brought their own partners with them.

Another night with all of you was in your plans for the evening, and as much as you loved your friends, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Your hands trembled just a little as you got dressed and your mouth was running dry, not to mention the sickening twist in the pit of your stomach that made you feel like throwing up.

And Frank noticed immediately. ”Hey, sweetheart, we don’t gotta stay for long, yeah?” he reminded while buttoning up his shirt, and with a glance at him, you nodded. He could tell you weren’t comforted by that thought, so he went on. ”It’ll be okay. Y’know they love seein’ you. No one there is gon’ judge you, baby”, he noted, listing off things he knew that bothered you the most.

You gave him another nod and sighed. ”It’s just a lot of people. I don’t like crowds. Also, what if I can’t make conversation? Or I do, and I say the wrong thing. What if I don’t like any of the food or drinks they serve there?” you pointed out in a nervous ramble, stopping to take a deep breath. It wasn’t unusual to get stuck in a cycle like this, unable to see everything that could go right instead of wrong, but Frank was happy to be the voice of reason.

”You never say the wrong thing, darlin’. You don’t gotta talk if you don’t wanna, lettin’ other people talk is fine, too. And you googled their menu already, and you know for sure they do serve something you like—and no, I don’t think they’ve magically run out of it for good”, he countered, walking over to you with his big hands reaching for your arms and rubbing them soothingly. ”We’ll make an appearance, and if it gets too much, you just gotta squeeze my hand, aight? I’ll take you home the second it gets unbearable”, he swore, knowing that sometimes you needed a little push and that all discomfort wasn’t bad. He wanted you to explore the boundaries of your comfort-zone, but just like he had promised, he wasn’t going to put you in a spot that would paralyze you.

And you knew that. You knew you could trust his word, and you knew it was healthy to challenge the anxious thoughts every now and then. So, you agreed to his terms, choosing to believe in him more than the nagging voice in your head.

”Attagirl”, Frank praised, taking your hand in his own and squeezing it just to emphasize that was all you had to do to give him the signal. You held onto him tightly, always finding comfort in his grip and the warmth he radiated.

You made your way to the bar where you were supposed to meet your friend group, and you tried your best to be calm but it didn’t seem to be working. You got hugs and excited questions about how you were doing, and you wanted to feel appreciated but all you could do was stew in the anxiety that came with being the center of attention. They wanted to know everything, and in the panic of the moment, you blanked entirely and couldn’t think of anything to say. Frank jumped in for you, keeping the conversation going, and your friends didn’t seem to question it.

When the rest of the group decided to order some food, you felt a lump in your throat, but Frank was already whispering into your ear. ”I got this. Don’t worry, sweetheart”, he reassured you before handling your order for you. Every now and then he encouraged you to do it on your own, but he could tell this wasn’t a good night for your anxiety, so he gladly took charge.

He checked in with you periodically, too. ”Feelin’ okay, pretty girl? Wanna go yet?” he queried softly, and as much as you wanted to plead him to take you home, you felt bad about the idea of ditching your friends. You tried to push through, giving Frank a smile and insisting that you were still doing good. He could see right through it, but as long as you weren’t showing any of the usual tell-tale signs of losing control, he was allowing it.

But just like he feared, you did begin to spiral. You lost track of time and space, not really processing anything your friends were saying, but at the same time, the chatter mixed with the loud music was becoming too overwhelming. You began shaking, unable to stop, the nervousness and worry bleeding from your thoughts to your body, and you felt the burning urge to just get out of there.

It didn’t take Frank long to detect your trembling, feeling the tremors against his chest as you were seated in his arms, and a frown deepened on his face. He tilted his head down at you, trying to reach you with soft calls of your name, but you couldn’t say anything.

”Sweetheart? You still with me?” he questioned quietly, knowing you didn’t want any extra attention drawn to yourself. His hand grabbed yours, and at the feeling of his fingers interlocking with your own, you felt a little safer. His large hand swallowed up yours entirely and he gave it a squeeze, trying to bring you back down from the panic you were riding.

”Aight, we’re headin’ home. My girl ain’t feelin’ so well”, he cut into the group’s conversation, digging out some bills from his wallet to pay for your food and drinks. He climbed out of the booth and gently pulled you with him, supporting your shaking body with his arm around you. Your friends were sad to see you go, but Frank wasn’t going to let them guilt you into staying. ”Thanks for invitin’ us, y’all. Have a good night”, he told them before steering you outside.

He walked you across the parking lot and helped you into the car, buckling you in before striding to his side of the truck and hopping in. ”You’re okay, baby. We’re goin’ home, yeah? Just you and me”, he spoke into the quiet car, making sure to turn down the music to avoid overstimulating you any further.

You were still silent, but as he began driving and let one hand hang between you and him, you instantly reached for it. You held onto his fingers tightly, needing the physical comfort, and he made sure to draw patterns against your skin with his thumb in an effort to soothe you. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the silence and the feeling of his hand in yours, letting it ground you.

He didn’t want to make your head spin with his incessant questions, so he didn’t speak for the remainder of the drive, just kept holding your hand. Only when he pulled up at your apartment building, he turned to you with a worried look in his eyes.

”How you feelin’, sweetheart? I know that was real shitty. ’M sorry I didn’t call it a night sooner”, he apologized, and the guilty tone got you to look at him and shake your head.

”It’s not your fault. I tried to push myself, I—I guess I just wanted to make you proud”, you shrugged shyly, dropping your gaze down to your conjoined hands.

Frank chuckled, not because he thought it was funny but because he thought his feelings for you were obvious. ”I’m already proud of ya, girl. I always am. You don’t gotta prove anythin’ to me. You definitely don’t gotta make yourself that uncomfortable just to show me”, he insisted, lifting your hand so he could kiss the back of it once, then twice, then once more.

You smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. ”Thanks for taking me home. I feel better now”, you told him, and with a nod, Frank let his lips twitch up in the most careful of smiles.

”That makes me real happy to hear, darlin’. Scares the shit outta me when you get all shaky like that”, he admitted, and when you opened your mouth, he knew exactly what you were going to say. ”Don’t apologize. It ain’t your fault. I just worry, y’know?” he added, earning a sigh from you.

”Yeah, I know. But for what it’s worth, you always help. It’d be way worse without you”, you mentioned, fully truthful. With Frank by your side, you had gotten much better at fighting back at the anxiety and not letting it control every aspect of your life, and when nights like these occurred and you lost your footing, he was always there to lift you back up.

”Anythin’ you need, baby, you know that. Now, how ’bout we go inside and I’ll make you somethin’ to eat, huh?” he suggested, painfully aware that you hadn’t been able to get a single forkful in at the bar. Touched by his thoughtfulness, you agreed and reluctantly let go of his hand to climb out of the car.

As soon as the doors were locked, though, Frank took ahold of your hand once again, loving the contact but loving the comfort it brought you even more. Whenever things got tough, you reached for him, and he didn’t hesitate to hold on tight — and he never would.

[hippiegoth97]

Be Kind, Rewind: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by Me :)

Master List

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

A/N: Hey, everybody! I've decided to start posting my Eddie Munson one-shots on here. This one is the first ever story I wrote, both for Eddie and fanfiction in general. It's been edited a couple of times, and may still be a bit rough compared to my current work. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Description: You work with Steve and Eddie in the video store while Robin is off at summer camp. You like Eddie a lot, but you've never pursued him out of fear. Lucky for you, he has other plans...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, swearing, female reader, drug use, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, choking, praise/degradation

Word Count: 4k

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

Be Kind, Rewind

"Alright, for 3 rentals your total is $8.50." You say to the mother struggling to keep her child at bay at the register. He's squirming from her grasp, with a mysterious, sticky substance around his mouth. The woman lets him go in order to reach into her purse. He immediately runs around the corner, headed straight for the candy display. He almost rams directly into it before he's scooped up by your supervisor, Steve Harrington.

"Whoa there, little guy! Looks like you've had enough sugar today. Let's get you back to your mother." Steve walks over and plops the child down. He almost makes yet another run for it, but the transaction is through and the woman wraps her arm around her son to keep him close.

"Thank you, young man! He has just been a terror today. His father dropped him off this morning after letting him go ballistic on a Hershey bar."

"No problem at all, ma'am, have a good day!" Steve replies. And with that, the mother and son walk out the door.

"I see why you get labeled by your friends as 'the babysitter'. You're really good with kids. You'll be a great dad someday, I'm sure." You say with a semi-sarcastic tone. He fixes you with a glare.

"Yeah, whatever. Stop slacking and take these returns in the back to rewind. Eddie is no help, he's probably lighting up in there right now."

"Yes sir!" You salute, which earns you a middle finger from Steve. "I'll whip that freak into shape for you too. Fuck knows I hate pulling more than my fair share of the weight." But that isn't exactly true. You’ve always had a thing for Eddie, ever since you were in school with him. You had talked a few times over the years, but soon enough you were swept up in your own interests. He was running the Hellfire Club, and you were too focused on your studies to have any free time for fun. You found yourself staring at him at lunch though, and he'd always looked right back with a smirk on his handsome face. But you never did anything more. It seemed like you both were worlds apart, even though it was just the opposite end of the cafeteria. But in this job you were lucky enough to get, you are in close proximity to Eddie almost every day.

You still stare sometimes, and you are far from subtle. Neither of you go any further than looks or the occasional teasing remark or small conversation. You wish you had the courage to make a move, but despite his perceived interest in you, you’re afraid he’ll reject you if he knows your true feelings. Sure, he plays around and makes somewhat off-color remarks. But those don’t mean anything, right? Eddie does that with everybody. You're not special to him, right? You spend far too much time trying to convince yourself he doesn't mean anything by what he says around you, thinking it would be crazy for him to like you that way, or at all. It's just a game for him, you always tell yourself. It has to be. You sigh, trying to shake these thoughts away and focus on your task.

You grab the stack of returns, and walk from behind the counter to the back room. Before you open the door marked 'Employees Only', you notice the smell of weed and even see smoke peeking out the bottom of the door. You sigh, rolling your eyes at Eddie's usual antics and pushing the door open, struggling to keep hold on the videotapes. As you walk inside, you ram right into Eddie's chest, causing the tapes to crash onto the floor. "Shit." You mutter, and scramble to pick them back up.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Y/N. Lemme help." Eddie kneels down to gather some tapes. He also picks up the blunt he dropped in your collision, quickly putting it out and into his pocket.

"It's the least you can do, Munson. You know, it wouldn't kill you to do some actual work for once. But I see you have more important things to do." You're not really angry, you're more embarrassed for looking clumsy in front of him. You stand, putting yourself above him.

"Yeah, yeah, save it. I hear enough of that from Harrington already. I know you're not that much of a stickler for rules anyways. You sure do like to pretend though." He looks at you from the floor, reaching up to give you the last tape. A devilish smirk plays on his lips. He really enjoys teasing you, pushing your buttons. It's like he gets off on seeing your face scrunch in quick protest.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Once again, your face goes into that grumpy scrunch he finds so adorable. You cross your arms, acting annoyed.

"It means, Y/N, that you act like the perfect citizen. Good grades, never late, hardworking, blah blah blah." He stands now. Putting that final tape on the table next to the rewinding machine. "But we both know about the looks you liked to steal in the cafeteria at lunch. Those same looks you still like to take now. You are no innocent girl, Y/N."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You lie, cheeks turning bright red. He takes note of your reaction, and presses further. He steps closer to you slowly with each word, eyes staring into yours, until his mouth is just centimeters away.

"Oh, come on, princess." You shiver at the nickname, which he also takes note of. "It's not polite to lie. I get it, you've lived a sheltered life. You feel like you can't waste any time on an asshole like me. Too many reasons not to. You have a bright future waiting for you, right?" He moves his head past yours to speak right into your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek. You freeze, how close he is to you sets your skin aflame. He then speaks quietly, "You wanna know what I think, darling? I think you don't like being a goody-goody at all. I think you're just waiting. Waiting for the right reason to come along for you to break all the rules." He pulls back to look in your eyes, still smirking.

You just stare back in shock, but you're also extremely turned on. You've always wanted to pursue something with Eddie. But he’s right. You don't have time. At least, you think you don't. After the summer, you’re off to college, the first in your family to make it out of this town. But what about before that? The summer has just begun, surely you've earned some fun after years of pounding knowledge into your brain. You’ve earned this, deserve it, even. And Eddie seems more than willing to give it to you.

"You're right." You say simply. His grin somehow gets even wider. You contemplate what to say next, not wanting to give in to him so easily. You're smarter than that. You keep your expression stern, playing a game."You are an asshole." His face falls, and it hurts to see him look like that. You immediately regret that decision.

"Sorry." He turns away from you, grabbing a tape to rewind in the machine. "I guess I read you all wrong. I won't do that again." His tone is soft, sad. He's disappointed, and it's now that you realize he truly likes you. You never really thought about it that way, he always comes off so smug. You just wanted to toy with him the way he seems to do so with you. You have to fix this and fast, otherwise you've blown your chance.

"Oh jesus fucking christ, Eddie! If I would've known you liked me back like that, I wouldn't have said that. I was just messing around, teasing you back. You just act so damn smug all the time, I didn't want to give you the satisfaction so easily." You walk to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tenses for a moment, and then relaxes, sighing. He turns to you again, a smaller smile this time.

"You sneaky little shit. I ought to punish you for that." His hand comes up to hold yours. His ringed fingers rub gently over yours, the cool metal making you shiver again. He chuckles at your reaction.

"So do it then." You look into his eyes, you're the one smirking now. He just stares at you a moment, seemingly genuinely shocked to hear you say something like that. Then he once again starts grinning like an idiot.

"As you wish, princess." He says as he pulls you into him, smashing his lips onto yours. You kiss him back, biting his lip after a moment. He grunts slightly, letting you slip your tongue in his mouth. He guides you backwards until you're against the wall. His lips move to your neck. He licks a long stripe from your collar bone to below your jaw, making you moan. In response, he starts sucking and biting your neck, being spurred on further by any whimpers or whines you let out.

"Oh, Eddie." You moan out, causing him to stop a moment to look at you.

"I like when you say my name, darling." He resumes his work on your neck, on the other side this time. He also brings his hands up to grab your breasts. You are loving this, but you want more.

You push him away for a moment, and he looks at you, confused. "I just want to take this off." You say as you start to lift your top over your head. Eddie assists you, and strips himself of his own. You take a moment to look at his toned chest, his tattoos, and it makes you melt.

"Like what you see, princess?" You blush as he's caught you staring again. You snap out of your trance and pull him back to you, lips colliding again. You run your hands along his arms, up and down his chest. In turn he grabs your breasts again, massaging them gently. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He breaks away to lean down to your breasts. He kisses them sloppily and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

"Eddie!" You gasp, your hands going into his hair. He nips on your sensitive bud, making you whine, and then he moves onto the other one. Your hands travel down to his jeans, you can feel how hard he is for you. You palm him through the material, and his breath hitches slightly.

"Eager, are we?" He asks, slightly muffled against your chest. He lifts his head up, eyes meeting yours again. He takes a moment to look deep into them. He brings his right hand gently to your face, the thumb brushing across your cheek. His gaze makes you feel so exposed, nevermind the fact that you’re completely topless. This moment seems to last hours, but you could also stay like this forever. "I've always liked you, you know." He says finally.

"I can see that." You say jokingly, Eddie rolls his eyes. "I've always liked you, too. I wish we would've done this so much sooner." You look down, feeling even more exposed somehow. He lifts your chin to regain eye contact.

"Hey now, darling. Don't hide that pretty face from me. And technically speaking, we haven't started much of anything yet." His smile is light and kind this time. "And we don't have to rush into anything if you don't want to." He tries to search your face for an answer, as your mouth is stuck in place. "I'm gonna need you to use your words, Y/N. What do you want?"

You can't help but struggle to get the words out. "I want you, Eddie. All of you. Please?" You don't mean for that last part to sound so desperate, you know it just feeds his ego. But you can't help it. You've tasted Eddie and you want more.

"Then all of me you will get, dollface." He kisses you again, softer this time, slower. He moves you again, to the counter next to the rewinding machine, lifting you onto it. His tongue roams down your jaw, neck, chest, his body lowering with it. He's on his knees now,  his hands making quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You lift yourself slightly so he can pull them down, along with your panties. "Well damn, princess. So wet for me already?" He gazes with wonder at your glistening pussy. You blush a bit at his words, almost reaching your hands up to hide your face. Eddie stops you, holding your wrists. "Don't try to hide from me, darling. Be a good girl for me." You felt yourself become wetter from his words, good girl. "You like when I call you that?" He looks up at you for confirmation.

"Yes, Eddie." You say, your voice is a little shaky.

"I'll keep that in mind." With that, he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

"Oh, fuck, Eddie!" You cry out. Your hips buck slightly, but Eddie holds them down.

"I love hearing those beautiful noises from you, baby. But I don't think either of us want to get caught fucking on the job by Harrington, do we? Just try to stay quiet for me, okay?" You nod in agreement, biting your index finger to suppress your moans as Eddie resumes his work on your dripping cunt. He licks your entrance, occasionally inserting his tongue, moaning at how sweet you taste. You've had this done to you before, but that’s nothing compared to Eddie. He starts sucking on your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. His middle finger going inside you, pumping in and out at an agonizing pace. You moan and whine for him, and he's eating up every moment of it. He moans against your clit, the vibrations pushing you closer and closer. You're seeing stars when he puts in a second finger, curving and pumping them in and out expertly.

"Oh fuck, oh, Eddie!" You feel the knot inside you snap, and you release onto his face and fingers. You do your best to hold the scream back, your hand clasped tightly over your mouth. Your hips buck violently and your legs shake as you ride out your high. Eddie slides his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips as he stands up. You watch as he shoves them fully into his mouth, sucking them clean. He keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, and you can't help but feel soaking wet for him again.

"Mmm, you taste delicious, Y/N. And you were such a good girl for me." He says as his fingers leave his mouth with a pop. He kisses you once again, and you taste yourself on his bruised lips. You take this as your signal to stroke Eddie's cock through his pants to give him a turn. He groans slightly, moving to your neck to suck harshly on your flesh. You’re sure to have marks before he’s done with you. You start fiddling with his belt, and he stops. He moves your hands and helps you out, undoing the belt and zipper clumsily. He pulls his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free, hitting his stomach. Out of instinct, you slide off the counter and onto your knees. You grab the base of him, and take his head into your mouth. He groans again, and it’s quickly becoming your favorite sound.

"Mmm." You moan as you swirl your tongue around the head, your hand stroking the rest of him. You take him as deep as you can, surprising yourself when you fit him all the way in. He mutters curses under his breath as you bob your head on him, licking swirls around his length the whole time.

"Fuck, Y/N" He rasps. "Such a good girl for me." His praises make you more and more wet every time he utters them. You could hear them a million times, and be left wanting to hear them a million more. You can feel his balls tightening, he's so close to cumming. "Y/N, sweetheart. Stop or I'll cum." He says quietly. You remove yourself from him, standing up again. "You are a goddess at that, baby. But I have a feeling we'll both enjoy something else even more." He lifts you back onto the counter, slowly rubbing his cock against your clit and folds. You both moan quietly at this action, and he lays you down while kissing you. He pulls away, preparing to position himself. "Are you ready, darling?" He asks, seeming genuinely nervous about your answer. He truly wants to please you, but only if you let him.

"Yes, Eddie. Please, just fuck me already." Again, you sound so desperate, which you are. But you can't help but love the smirk he gives you in response.

"Anything for you, princess." And with that, he pushes into you, causing you both to groan at the sensation. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size, trying to keep himself together, despite how perfect you feel around his dick. You kiss him passionately to signal him to start moving. And when he does, he starts real slow. Carefully pumping in and out of you, teasing almost. He's in no rush, he just wants you to feel comfortable.

"As amazing as you feel right now, Eddie, I need you to go faster." You look in his eyes, practically begging him to make you unable to walk for a week.

"Your wish is my command, Y/N." He begins to snap his hips, plunging into you at a punishing pace. He hits your g-spot easily and expertly. You moan his name over and over, feeling the knot rapidly forming again. He moans too, your name and the phrase 'good girl' falling from his lips. "Is it okay if I try something?" He asks while thrusting at almost inhuman speed.

"Yes, Eddie. Do whatever you want to me. I want it all." You beg, and he brings his ringed hand to your throat. He wraps around it gently, squeezing ever so slightly, gauging your reaction. You moan loudly in response, looking at him with lust and hunger in your eyes. He smiles at you, loving how willingly you submit to him. He loosens his grip on you, moving to stroke your breasts instead. You stop him, bringing his hand back up to your throat. "More, please. It's so fucking hot." You say to him, almost whining for him to continue choking you.

"I knew you were a kinky little freak, princess. I fuckin’ love it." He puts pressure on your throat again, making you feel lightheaded. The knot is threatening to snap any second now. You can tell he’s close, too.

"I'm so close, Eddie. Fuck me harder." You can't believe the things coming out of your mouth, begging him to have any way with you he desired.

"I’m right there with you, sweetheart. I'll give you anything you want. You're such a good girl. Cum for me." He says with a groan, his thrusts becoming sloppy. Despite this, he tries to keep up the pace to bring you down with him. 

“Oh, fuck! Eddie!” You scream as your orgasm rips through you, the world around you exploding. Your walls clamp down onto him, and your thighs tremble outside of your control. 

“Shit.” Eddie grunts when his own high overtakes him. His load spills into you, his hips bucking wildly against you in his final thrusts. He collapses onto you a moment later, panting heavily. You both lie here for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Eddie plants some grateful kisses on your throat as you come down from your highs. When he finally pulls out of you, he looks down to see your mixed release oozing from your cunt. “Jesus christ.” He mutters, his softened cock twitching at the sight. He’s unable to resist the temptation, and kneels down to clean you up with his tongue.

"Fuck!" You're still sparking from your last orgasm, and his cleanup efforts swiftly cause you to cum yet again, screaming his name and tangling your hands in his hair. The stars subside and Eddie stands upright to kiss your lips.

"You're such a good girl for me, darling. Let's get you dressed before Harrington busts us in here." He helps you to your feet, but you stumble as your legs feel like jelly. "Take it easy. I'll help you." He gathers your clothing and gently helps you put everything back on. Only then does he start dressing himself again. You almost whine at the loss of looking at his naked body, but you keep the lust at bay for now.

"So, what does this mean, Eddie?" You feel stupid for asking, this could just be a one-time thing for him. Another notch in the bedpost for the famous Eddie Munson. You pick at your fingers, looking down at the floor.

"What do you want it to mean?" He lifts your chin with his finger, wanting you to meet his eyes.

"Well, I'd like to do this more often with you. And maybe more...if you want." You feel so naked and vulnerable again, even though you're now fully clothed.

"What? Like a date? You wanna be my girlfriend?" He asks, his hand moving to your cheek again. You can't help but feel like he thinks it's a joke. He's hard to read when he smirks like that all the time.

"Yes. If you want to." You reply, trembling slightly. You can’t help being so nervous. Maybe this was all a mistake. He just said things you wanted to hear to get in your pants, and now he's toying with you again. He uses his hands to try to calm you down, rubbing your shoulders gently. He looks into your eyes with sincere care and affection, making your heart melt.

"You need to stop overthinking in there." He taps on your temple with his finger. He smiles calmly. "Of course we can do that. I'd love that more than anything." You smile at his words, throwing your arms around him. Your lips meet again, soft and tender. You can't believe it, you just fucked the baddest guy in town and you get to be his girlfriend. You feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and Eddie feels like he won the lottery. You keep kissing for a while, not wanting to stop living in this moment.

"Alright, guys. I don't know how much pot you've smoked, but if all those tapes aren't rewound by now I'm gonna-" Steve barges in the door, and his jaw drops at the sight of you kissing and groping each other. "Oh, for fuck's sake, you guys! I mean, I saw you two hooking up coming from a mile away. Shit, a blind man could do that. But why must it be here? Where I have to see you?” Steve scolds, continuing on his rant. “And goddammit, it reeks of sex in here! I'll need to get more air freshener. Not like I don't use enough covering Eddie's weed smell. Congrats on being cute and disgusting at the same time. Dammit! Do I need to babysit you, too? Just get yourselves together and get those tapes rewound!" He storms out, but you can still hear him muttering things to himself on the other side of the door.

You and Eddie look at each other, mouths open in shock. And then you burst out laughing, Eddie falling to the floor in a fit of cackling. And all you can think is that this is going to be the best summer of your life.

The end.

[thelastbarricade]

Bloodhound.

pt. 1 of ? [ part 2 ]

[ read on ao3 ]

summary:

Cooper Howard is not a gracious, kind, nor giving man. When you wake bound and bleeding--seemingly left for dead after having previously traversed the Wasteland for months with him--you're reminded of this.

word count : 2.7k

tags: the ghoul x you, the ghoul x oc

warnings: violence, swearing, (will add more as the story progresses)

notes:

Say hello to my first fic attempt in...two years? Oh boy. All comments and feedback very much appreciated and feel free to hit me up in my messages and start a convo!

Narration and form may not be entirely polished so please pardon my dust.

xx korine <3

“You are not seriously going to fucking leave me here?!”

The warehouse you’re slumped over and hog-tied on the floor of groans and echoes around your shattering scream. Dust smears across your clothes; caked thick across the concrete floor as you squirm. The taste of metal and rust in the air causes your stomach to turn, bile bittering your tongue.

You came to consciousness like this. Tattered rope and torn clothing binding your ankles beneath you. Arms pulled so tight at the back you feared for the ligaments about your shoulders. Not that he’d cared to check for comfort. It was for the best, at least that’s what he’s decidedly convinced himself about now. Cooper Howard: wayward Ghoul and the Wasteland’s infamous Bogeymen was a dirty, dastardly, trifling man. He did things simply because he could. Didn’t matter the reason or rhyme, so long as the tune rang the same and the caps continued flowing. Who could blame him? World continued spinning regardless, and hungry a man as he was—fella’ had to eat.

“Mother fucker!” Blood trickles down your temple to bloom across your lips as you spit your words—venomous and vehement—in his direction. You kick and fight against your restraints, wrists red and angry to match their maker. Now that warrants a chuckle from your partner.

Partner? Captor?

Friend.

At least that’s what memories bound 'round the countless campfires and shared meals had lent their assumptions to at one point. Your mind reels over the titles and labels, if any, that you had once held Cooper to.

Oh you were fucked.

As if it even mattered anymore. He’d drugged you, some sleeping agent based on the sick in your stomach and thick weight of your limbs lingering. Whatever agreement you two had had as of yesterday seems to have gone up in flames.

“Nothin’ personal, darlin’.” The Ghoul's calm and cool facade only further enrages you. He eyes you with an eerie ease. That curious perk in his brow and tilt in his jaw ever-present.

You were going to rip out his throat with your bare fucking teeth. Tear what amalgamation of leathery ruin was left over that thick skull of his off and to shreds with your own two hands. Whatever nerve endings were left un singed by that almighty fucking bomb in his body were yours. You were going to dissect them inch by inch until all he could feel was you stripping him of the last thing humanity had granted him—pain.

Your chest heaved, blood in your veins threatening to set you alight thanks to all the adrenaline. Fuck the dehydration and starvation: come night the Radroaches would be having a feast. Not to mention the bloody fucking pack of fiends that’d been on your tails for the past week straight. You eye the bloodied tourniquet you’d bandaged so carefully the night before still dangling from the Ghoul's left leg. The grotesque blade that had torn into his already mottled and marred flesh had cut a mortal wound that would have felled any smooth skin. It had been taking longer to heal than usual. A sure sign Cooper’d been running low on his usual stock of vials. Shit, things like this had happened before and you’d both dealt with it. Got him back in his right mind and hit the road like nothing had happened. He hadn’t sold you then, hadn’t abandoned you then—but now?

What the hell changed?

Cooper turns away for a second; whipping the tattered fray of his trench coat aside and tucking something into his back pocket. You seize your seconds and shoot both heels out toward his injured leg sideways with all the might you can muster. It works. The ghoul is brought to his one good knee in a second before you. Not that you’ve any weapon or hands to follow through with anyway. It’d simply been in vain but even that you would take over letting him just walk away. From you. From this. Us. You feel his calloused fingers wrap themselves around your chin. He jerks your face within an inch of his. The growl in his chest barely escapes his lips as his other hand clutches the wound you’ve undoubtedly re-opened. You sneer through his hold on you. His breath is hot and vile. Comforting. Familiar.

How could he? No—how fucking dare he?! You grind out what moisture you have left on your tongue and spit it directly in his face. Saliva and blood freckle his marred cheeks. He shoves you aside. Like nothing. Like dirt.

Wasteland fucking scum.

Not that you weren’t. Cooper knew you were no angel, no savior, and sure as hell no saint. You’d more blood on your hands than any of the usual ruckus he’d found himself shacking up with or against. It could be said that was the reason he’d kept you around, but you knew better. Didn’t you?

Cooper could have partnered with any low-life Wastelander. Ones far bigger and far more dangerous than your likes. But it was you he stuck with. You who’d taken countless blades, bullets, stimpaks and Rad-X…all for him. The fucking horror that he was, you fucking took it all. Asked for nothing in return. Nothing more than a fucking voice in the void, not even a comforting one. Snide comments, limitless ridicule. Taken it all like tonic and swallowed it up like a naive child. You’d just not wanted to traverse the wastelands alone. Was that so much to ask? Apparently so.

Your stomach shifts violently; retch burning its way past your lips as you vomit beside yourself. Cursing yourself for your weakness you wrestle your restraints to kneel before him.

“Should’ve killed me when I was under, Cooper.” It takes all of your composure to stifle the sob in your throat and shove out a feigned a chuckle in its place. “I promise you…” Your eyes begin to burn, blurred. “I promise I’m going to make you wish you had.”

There’s a stiffness in his body language you chalk up to his wound. A hardened hesitation. You eye the loaded holster on his hip, wishing for once he’d just man up and use it. The ghoul straightens above you. The wide brim of his hat casts most of his face in a shadow. Hollowed eyes devoid of even the sentiment of emotion. Bastard. Behemoth.

Your binds smart and ache at your spine and your fingers flex instinctively. Even if you’d the luck about you to manage the gun away from him in his injured state, what would you do with it then?

'You’re a shit shot and you know it.' Cooper's words echo in the confines of your thoughts. They were warmer last they’d been spoken. A ghost of his touch fluttered at the memory. An uncharacteristically shaky hand. A rough touch pressed over yours as he guided you. Fingers finding yours like a self-conscious schoolboy. Like he was afraid if he moved too quickly you’d startle, leaving him standing alone in the fallout. You could have called it endearing once upon a time. Now? His comment just felt like a blade salted and shoved through an already gaping wound.

The ghoul catches your eyes lingering on his holstered belt. “Want me to put you onto somethin’?” He’s mocking you. You can hear it despite the salacious tone. He's eating this up. You steel your expression. Tears still paint your cheeks but you refuse to acknowledge their presence.

“Enlighten me,” You straighten yourself in slight, scooting closer. “I’ll even say please .” Your voice mock-softens. You pout, attempting to look as lost and vulnerable as possible. “Please, mister.” Your ignorant expression fades away. The smile teetering on your lips borders on manic. You could almost feel the pincers piercing your skin when the roaches descended upon you. Taste your own viscera bubbling up into your throat. Work out the curses you know would be solely meant for the man before you in your head. Even in death, you wouldn’t be able to escape him. Even in death, you would still be left wanting—him. How fucking pathetic. How fitting. So this was the Wasteland’s fate for you. Who were you to deny it?

It all happens in a blur then. You close your eyes, feeling the sweet scrape of a metal barrel press a bruising kiss at your already battered temple. Cooper's lips are gnarled, curled into a snarl as he descends upon you. A fistful of your shirt finds itself between his fingers. Always a temper, that one. It almost matched your own. You suppose that’s why you loved to play his game. Cooper’s nostril twitches as your eyes flutter open. You gaze up at him, knees ghosting the ground beneath you. The way he held you felt disgraceful. Divine.

“If I was a better man I’d paint this here pavement with those pretty little brains a’ yers.”

A scoff leaves your lips. Between the both of you, there was no good: only the bad and ugly. You’d committed no virtues in your twenty-odd some years on the surface and neither had Cooper in all of his. He drops you, pressing the barrel against your cheekbone and following the curvature of your cheek to your jaw. His eyes linger for a moment on your lips and you lick the blood drying itself there.

“Fiends’ll finish what I cant. Give me all the time I need to heal and with them on my trail—I can’t. Sorry sweetie, seems you’re the canon fodder today.” His voice echoed out across the warehouse, unrelenting and cold. The chill of his words drowned out the heat of the scorching sun.

What the fuck. What the actual FUCK.

Eyes wild, you buck—pushing the gun away with the thick of your skull. The ghoul relented then, reupholstering his weapon. In a second he’s stepping away from you. His blood-stained and grime-covered coat descends into the dark hallway across the warehouse. Walking away. Away. From you. Leaving you.

You scream and kick and writhe. Your voice blows out the entirety of the building you’re in until the walls and earth are shaking as above and so below. Everything about you had imploded. Every belief you’d been gifted and so naively accepted. Set aflame and blazing so bright you hadn’t realized such a thing could consume. Hatred. You felt your skin shed in your bindings. Heart a roaring scorch from deep within your chest. Much like you imagine the Ghouls may have at some point. You were birthing yourself anew. Alone. Bearing the weight of this world by yourself once more. You were better off alone. It was Cooper who’d had the dastardly deed of convincing you otherwise. Dangling a kinder fate before you only to rip it from you once the fruits of his labor had set their seeds deep in your psyche.

—

After you’d had your tantrum you settled in the dust and dinge of the cold cement floor. Your heavy breaths softened, silence becoming you. The sounds of the building had settled. When you were confident no lingering eyes or ears were upon you you whipped the heel of your boot back towards your bound wrists. Spindly fingers worked their way between the rubber and sole. Jackpot. The hilt of a pairing blade—one you’d more commonly used on your dinner—slid against your touch. Cooper was something of an expert with knots, but even these were shoddy and rushed enough that your rusted blade was up and through in a matter of minutes. You could blame it on your newfound vigor as well. Adrenaline seethed in your veins. You could taste your indignation over the copper of your blood and it only spurned you further. Quicker. Slice, cut, tear. Harder. Faster. There.

“Fucking—” You tear the fabric around your ankles free next, almost slicing yourself in the process. A slew of expletives falls from your lips as you stretch the cramps from your body. A few items from your camp still lay a few feet from you. You gather what you bother to into your bedroll, slinging it over your back. At least he’d the decency not to steal from a prospected corpse. The thought makes you snort.

Focus.

The daylight peaking in from the second-story windows was high on the horizon but fading ever so slightly. Daylight was on his side and he’d have at least an hour's lead by now. You were used to navigating the waste in the dark on your own but you wouldn’t prefer it, especially defenseless. Save an almost salvageable pairing knife. Great.

You eyed the dark hallway the Ghoul had exited through. Amongst the littered trash and mounds of dust covering the floor, you noticed the faintest trail of crimson splatter. Barely recognizable amongst the ruin to the naked eye. Almost black in its dried form until you mottle it with your touch. It splits and spreads. Fresh enough to tell its color apart from the surroundings. Not yours either. A surge of sadistic excitement fills your lungs and you find yourself moving. The blood continued to fall in steady, dropping off here and there where you’re sure Cooper had adjusted his stint. Poor boy really was wounded, wasn’t he? Your nostrils flared at the thought and you pushed it aside. No bother. The more wounded an animal was the more desperate its attempts to run. You crawled up through the broken concrete crevices that ran along the side of the building. Sand and grit slow your ascent, but not by much. Not nearly enough to throw you off his trail.

Cooper hadn’t kept you around for kicks. Hadn’t even kept you around because you could shoot after he’d taught you. You were still shit, after all. Cooper had come across you in an exchange. A dead end on a bounty even the best couldn’t manage to crack. And he would know.

You paused. His trail rounded the far back corner of the warehouse, turning on a whim and abandoning the lower ground for higher. Heading…east? You checked your markers, double-checked, triple-checked. Either he was just a fucking idiot or was blood loss even a thing for ghouls? Nearest settlement was west and the fiends would be steering far and wide from the larger ones. It’d be suicide to pivot back the way they’d come.

Come on, Cooper. You’re making it easy.

Low on vials and bordering insanity in some podunk rinky-dink saloon back room you’d convinced him or he’d convinced you, once upon a time. It didn’t matter (probably) that you were basically being bartered to him for your services. It was the man in the cheesy cowboy hat or being sold for parts. Pissed off the wrong bunch and with no allegiances on the surface to put faith in you…well, didn’t really matter now, did it?

Your jaw pulsed under a constant grind, realizing you’d be abandoning safety if you continued on after him. You had to trust yourself—but it’d been so long. An eternity with how the Wastelands days came and went. You cursed the Ghoul for cradling you in the farce of safety over these past few months. Always having someone at your back, your side. An extra pair of eyes and weaponry…it’d been a luxury you couldn’t afford. It was all just borrowed time. You just had to remember who you were. Before Cooper. Before The big bad Ghoul swept you up in fantasies and make-believe and made you forget how horrendous this world could and would be. With or without him. Tension crept between your shoulder blades as you continued to climb. You rolled it away with ease now. Fingers clawed themselves into the mounds of sand and you wiped the salt and sting from your head wound. You would force yourself. Shove the reality down your throat like a loaded barrel just to remember. Remember that between the big cities and the wilds on either side, you were known to all lowlife and company as a ‘Bloodhound’. No one could outrun you. No one could outtrack you. Cooper Howard should have known that. --

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 3 - Curdles

Series Masterlist

Rating: M for language, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

Summary: We leave the gym! A little bit of angst (that resolves by the end of the chapter)!

A/N: There are things I’m not tagging to avoid giving away the story. Please remember this is a work of fiction. See the endnote for content warning/spoilers. Tyty to @bloviating-vy for being the best beta.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: no y/n, reader has a nickname, swearing, reader is a powerlifting girlie in her late 30's described as short and she has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, reader's mother is a menace, a lot of Frankie POV oops, use of Daddy but not like that 

<< prev next>>

[text conversation]

😻🐟: Dinner Friday? Pick you up at 7? 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🎉🎉 😻🐟: Gonna to take that as a yes

🏋🏻‍♀️:  💃🏻💃🏻 😻🐟: Uhh, I don't do dancing

🏋🏻‍♀️: 💃🏻 = I'm excited for Friday 😻🐟: roger that 🫡

😻🐟: 💃🏻💃🏻 😻🐟: Did I do that right 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🎉🎉

It's been a week. Time crawled despite your full patient load. Frankie had texted you about dinner on Monday, but you hadn't heard from him since. It's not like you were great with texting either, seeing patients all day and charting in between, as fast as your fingers could humanly type. And the last thing you needed was for him to be texting and flying.

His last text had you chuckling between patients, a half smile ghosting your lips for the rest of the day. Your co-worker remarked on your good mood and you let it slip that you had a date you were looking forward to, before you remembered why you kept your romantic life private. What does he do? Is he also a doctor? Did you land another surgeon? What do your parents think? Does he want kids? Show us a picture!

As much as you liked and cared about the other physicians at the shared practice, they were also all mothers of young children, busy with playdates and the whirlwind of family life. The group practice was set up so the physicians could work part-time while also raising their babies. As the sole single and childless physician of the practice however, it felt like they lived vicariously through you sometimes. Well intentioned but prying questions into your love life or your life in general (what do you do with all that free time?). When you first started at the practice you declared any discussion about your failed engagement off limits. To distract from the drama of that whole part of your life, you sometimes offered up bits about your online dating adventures much to their interest and amusement. That is, until you heard, "I'm so glad I don't have to date anymore" for the millionth time. Ugh.

As you scarf down the last of your lunch on Friday, you feel your phone vibrate, alerting you to a new message. You take a quick peek, smiling when you see it's from Frankie. Your smile falls the next moment as you open the text.

😻🐟: have to raincheck on dinner sweets 🏋🏻‍♀️: is everything ok?

A text bubble appears after you respond, “...” flickering for what feels like eternity before disappearing. Your stomach curdles in concern and disappointment, was he okay? You didn't think he had his daughter this week. Was she ok? You were so looking forward to dinner with Frankie, especially after your last disastrous date with someone from the dating apps.

Frankie was still interested, right? He had hung around for your entire bench workout on Saturday until he absolutely had to go pick up his daughter from his mom's. He had been so protective at the gym when Mike was being an absolute douchebag.

Although he was also protective of Chloe too, that irritating voice in your head, your mother's voice, reminded you. As you sigh, staring at the phone willing him to respond, your favorite nurse Suze pokes her head into the break room alerting you of your next patient that arrived early.

"Ok, be right there," you respond, trying to keep an upbeat tone as you shove your phone and disappointment into your pocket and throw your trash away.

Frankie isn't sure when was the last time he slept more than two consecutive hours since Wednesday. Fuck, Delta-Force Ops Training was easier than this. First, Vanessa had texted Sunday morning, begging Frankie to keep Gabi this week, her week, for some opaque reason related to work being extra busy and Vanessa needing more time for herself. I never ask you for favors, Francisco, Vanessa had guilted him over the phone.

Frankie figured with his work schedule working in his favor this week, he could keep Gabi and have his mamá watch her on the days he flew and on Friday evening so he could still take you out to dinner. His grand plans came crashing down when Gabi started fussing Wednesday, clinging to Frankie and refusing to go to sleep alone. At breakfast she seemed ok, like maybe she just had a cold or something. By dinner time she was burning up, refusing to eat or drink anything. Snot nosed, congested cough, and crying unless he held her. So he did, rocked her all night in her little toddler bed. Waking up to check her temperature, listen to her breathing, was she getting enough oxygen? and jolting awake at every whimper, cough, or cry. 

Gabi's congested cries snap Frankie’s attention back to her as he smooths her matted curls away from her face. She's still feverish to the touch and absolutely miserable. He briefly considers calling Vanessa in his desperation, but could already hear her biting response laced with resentment and anger. Why are you bothering me, Francisco? You're not doing me a favor by calling me when you agreed to keep her. You're the parent with custody right now, so fucking parent already.

This is the first time Gabi has gotten this sick when he had her on his own. Was this the flu? Did she have RSV? Why wouldn't she eat anything? Why couldn't the pediatrician's office fit her in this afternoon?

Call first thing tomorrow if she's doing worse and the Saturday on-call pediatrician can see her, the nurse's aide at the doctor's office tells him before relaying additional instructions on keeping Gabi comfortable and what signs to look for if she needs to go to the ER. It's only after Frankie hangs up the phone that he realizes it's Friday afternoon. He's supposed to take you out in a few hours.

Fuck.

He carefully sets Gabi down and tucks her blankets in around her before walking to the kitchen to wolf something down (when is the last time he ate something?) and text you. He hopes you'll understand he isn't blowing you off, that he really does want to take you out. You'll understand right? You have to know how much he likes you, admires you, is drawn to you anytime you are in the same place together, just wanting to be in your captivating presence. He still thinks you are miles out of his league, too smart, too pretty, too alive, to waste your time on a washed up someone like him with so. much. baggage. 

The fatigue hits him from left field as he texts you to cancel. Eyelids like lead weights despite the bright afternoon sun. As he reads your text response and tries to type his own reply, Gabi lets out a pained cry that sends his fried nerves into overdrive. He drops his phone on the kitchen counter to rush to her side. He tucks her back into his arms, soft words for comfort, and gently rocks her and himself into a hazy half sleep. 

It is still light out when you finally get home from work, but the apartment feels dark and cold for the first time since you left Chase and moved here. Your safe haven feels... lonely now. Too quiet. A single empty coffee mug sits on the small dining table, a ring of tacky coffee dried on the inside, abandoned where you left it as you rushed out the door this morning.

You flop on your small couch and text Frankie one more time asking if he is okay. The silence you usually welcome sits heavy — dense and gray — as you wait for a response. When none comes, you consider showing up at Redfly's to hangout with Benny and the guys, but you realize you'd have to explain why you are there and not out to dinner with Frankie. This is what Chloé must have meant when she was worried things would get complicated.

You need to get out of your apartment, out of your head, before you drown in the silence. You consider for half a second, phone in hand and thumb hovering over a dating app icon, maybe you should respond to the dozen or so messages in your inbox, before you click your phone off. No, you didn't want to make it more messy and you are just reacting. Running from fucking feelings that spread like tendrils down your spine and around your chest the more you think about Frankie and the way he looked at you with those big brown eyes, listened to you, and showed you that he was, is, interested. There has to be a legitimate reason he canceled on you tonight.

So you decide to do what you always do when you need to work out your big feelings. You go work out your muscles. Bigger muscles to handle bigger feelings. Release the not good enough, never good enough insecurities bubbling up and move through them rep by rep. Between a rare work shift tomorrow and the rest of the guys gathering at Redfly's, it feels like as good a time as any to get your SBD day in. You won't have to worry about getting in that monster of a workout after working six days in a row. Small blessings and all that. You pack extras of your favorite snacks.

"Who do we have on tap today?" you ask Suze as she comes around the corner to your work station. You cup your oat milk latte in both your hands, willing the espresso to work faster. Working Saturdays still sucks even if it is only every six weeks instead of every week. The parents are usually more freaked out and the cases often more severe. Fingers crossed you won't have to admit anyone to the hospital today. At least you got paired with your favorite nurse and you both worked together well as a team. 

"Just the one kiddo with RSV-like symptoms so far. Dad's been calling since Thursday afternoon trying to get in for us to see her. Seems really worried, neither of 'em have slept much. Looks like mom is the one who usually brings her in, parents are divorced, and this is Dad's first time here." She continues with a list of symptoms she collected from the parent, adding her own observations and vitals she'd taken before you thank her and grab the tablet with the patient's chart on it to head to the exam room.

Suze lowers her voice before adding,“Oh, and between you and me, the dad is gorgeous.” Suze gives you a freckled smirk before heading back to the front. You flash her your best O, rly? face before you both break into maniacal giggles as quietly as possible. Suze always makes the work day better, you think as you make your way to the exam room.

You take a deep breath outside the door, glance at the patient's first name, and flip on your doctor demeanor as you knock on the door. At the muffled come in, you swing the door open and start to say Hi, Gabriella, I'm Dr. — before you realize you're looking at a distraught and disheveled Frankie cradling his daughter in his arms. 

Was he dreaming? Did he forget to wake up and take Gabi to the doctor's? Why did the pediatrician look so much like you? Frankie rubs his eyes and looks up from his seat in the exam room chair. Nope, it is you standing there, white coat on and stethoscope around your neck looking like an angel despite the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Sweets?" he croaks. Ok, yeah, he definitely didn't forget to wake up because he can't wake up if he hadn't fallen asleep. He's sure he sounds as sleep deprived as he looks. 

"Frankie?" you ease the door shut and step towards him. 

Gabi lets out a congested cry and clings tighter to Frankie when she sees you approach. 

"Shh, bebita, it's ok. The doctor's here to help you feel better," Frankie soothes, voice tinged with desperation.

He needs you to help Gabi feel better so he can feel better too. He looks up at you and catches you with knitted brows, chewing your lower lip for a moment before your face smooths, like you thought something over and made a decision. 

You squat down to eye level with Gabi, "Hi Gabriella, I'm Dr. Sweets." 

Gabi eyes you warily, "My. Name. Is. Gabi." Sniffles punctuate each word.

"Nice to meet you Gabi. Can you come sit up here for me?" you ask as you move to pat the exam table. Gabi buries her face into Frankie's flannel, shaking her head no no no.

"Oh, right, uh... she's been going through a big stranger danger phase," Frankie explains. He's worried you'll think he's the worst father, unable to get his daughter to comply.

"That's perfectly normal at this age," you reassure him, stepping back to give Gabi some space.

You hesitate for a moment before looking at Frankie and continuing, "It's kind of a gray area, treating someone or someone's kid I know... uh, socially." You pause for a moment, glancing at your tablet, appearing flustered. "But, um, I know it's Saturday and I don't want Gabi to have to wait until Monday to see someone if I can help her now. You okay with that, uh, Mr. Morales?"

Frankie nods with understanding, after panicking for a moment in his exhaustion, thinking that you are going to kick them out because he was supposed to take you out yesterday. Was that just yesterday? Also, “Mr. Morales” made him feel old.

"Ok then, please hop up on the exam table with Gabi for me then," you direct him, smooth doctor demeanor back on, as you pull the rolling stool over to the wall mounted monitor adjacent to the exam table. You pull up Gabi's chart on the screen and glance over the information. 

"How about we chat a little bit about how Gabi's doing before we work on the stranger danger?" 

Frankie grunts in agreement and stands with a groan before moving to sit on the exam table with Gabi. The exam table paper crinkles under his weight as he settles onto the table, checking to make sure Gabi is comfortable. You chat with him, running through his concerns, Gabi's symptoms, all the while warmly affirming the care he's given Gabi. He finds himself relaxing into the conversation as you lead him through your questions with a gentle and comforting voice. Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to take good care of Gabi. You did a great job taking care of her, Frankie. Delicate pecks on the keyboard as you document in Gabi's chart while also monitoring Gabi's body language towards you.

"Well, I think I have everything I need besides giving Gabi a once over," you conclude with a reassuring smile, standing up slow and steady, as Gabi continues to eye you, a miniature furrow in her brow identical to her father’s. Gabi burrows her face back into Frankie's flannel. 

You offer soft words to Gabi who continues to shake her head “no” into Frankie's shirt before flicking your eyes up to Frankie as if to ask for his permission.

"How about I give your Daddy a quick check up and make sure he's healthy first?" you ask Gabi, a hint of playfulness in your voice, as you look to Frankie to confirm he's okay with it. You could do whatever you want to him if it would help you help his little girl, he thinks. Stab him with a needle and take his blood for all he cares.

Gabi pauses her head shaking and peeks out at you, soft brown curls falling over her eyes.

"Promise it's not going to hurt him, like it's not going to hurt you sweet pea," you soothe.

Gabi looks between Frankie and you with a bit more curiosity than suspicion. Frankie's heart swells as you talk to her with soft patience, explaining what the different scopes are used for, before demonstrating on Frankie, shining a light into his eyes, asking him to open wide and say aaaahhh, so you could look at his throat. Gabi giggles when he lets out an exaggerated aaaahhhh! He hopes he remembered to brush his teeth this morning. 

Through it all, you worked through Gabi's stranger danger, peeling back layer after layer with your playfulness with the utmost patience and care. Frankie can feel Gabi relaxing her grip on his shirt, softening to you. He can feel the remaining tension he was holding in his stomach slowly unravel at your light touches and soft praise as you pretend to assess him and give gentle words of explanation to Gabi. 

When you click on a disposable tip on the otoscope to check his ears, you let out a mock gasp “What's this?” that has Gabi climbing out of Frankie's arms as you magically pull a small stuffie out of his ear. 

"Can you hang on to this little guy for me and keep him safe?" you ask her with your serious face on. Gabi nods and makes grabby hands before settling back into Frankie's lap facing forward towards you and hugging the stuffie within an inch of its life. 

"I'm going to take a look at your ears now Gabi, okay?" you ask as you receive the smallest little nod from her. She allows you to check her eyes and throat as well. You note the redness in her throat before praising her extra loud aaaahhhh! Frankie's pretty sure you're a toddler whisperer at this point.

As you pull the stethoscope from around your neck, Gabi looks up and shrinks at the new equipment. Just going to use this to listen to your heart beat and how you're breathing, sweetpea, you explain, but Gabi starts to shake her head “no” again.

You pause for a beat before digging around the small toy box underneath the exam table before pulling out a play stethoscope. Now we have matching ones, you say as she abandons the stuffie for the new toy. You show her how to put the ear tips in her ears holding the diaphragm against Frankie's chest over his heart. Can you hear your daddy's heartbeat? Does it sound like a thump thump thump? Gabi nods with wide eyes and delight. He's relieved it's Gabi listening to his heart and not you as his heart started to race at your light touch to his chest.  

It's smooth sailing after that. Gabi allows you to complete the physical exam, taking deep breaths on cue as you listen to her lungs, before you sit back down on your rolling stool. As you add to the electronic chart, Frankie catches your small grin as Gabi continues to play with the stethoscope, smooshing it against his cheek, nose, then forehead.

After a few more pecks on the keyboard, you turn to Frankie to give him your diagnosis (no, it's not RSV, thank goodness), but another viral bug that mimicked some of the symptoms of RSV. It’s been making the rounds in the community, but Gabi should recover within the week. As you move to discuss detailed care instructions and prescriptions to help alleviate Gabi's symptoms, Gabi tires of playing with the stethoscope and turns to you instead, arms outstretched.

Frankie can tell you're surprised as Gabi makes the universal toddler motion for "up." You pause before rolling over on the stool. Gabi leaps at you as you get closer and you manage to catch her in your arms despite your surprise. She immediately settles into you, tucking her head under your chin and plopping a thumb into her mouth, anchoring her other little hand on the shoulder of your white coat.

"No more stranger danger," you joke with an amused smile as Gabi cuddles into you with a sniffle.

You finish delivering the care instructions to Frankie as you rock Gabi, double checking with Frankie if he has any questions or further concerns. You reaffirm what a great job he did with Gabi the last few days, a balm to his frayed nerves and self-doubt. He could wrap himself in your reassurance and gentle patience, your soft, gentle words healing him. Is this what falling in love with you feels like?

"You can call the office if something changes or she gets worse," you offer, voice quieting. "Or you know, call me."

Frankie nods, relieved Gabi doesn't have RSV, doesn't need to go to the hospital, but also so moved seeing you with Gabi in such an unexpected situation. Your incredible care and patience for his baby girl, all softness and gentleness from your words to your touch. This side now melds with his experiences with you at Redfly's, at Pope's, the flirty fun side of you and raw strength he knows you possess. It makes him dizzy to think about the multitudes within you that he's experienced so far and hopes to experience more of it. Soft, strong, playful, and so fucking brilliant.

"I'll walk you out to the front where Suze can finish up and get everything sorted," you instruct as you stand and walk for the door. Frankie sees Gabi's grip tighten on your shoulder as you move. Baby girl does not want to leave. As you approach the exit to the waiting room, Gabi fusses, burying her head in your chest, not wanting to leave. Clinging to you as if she didn't spend half the visit hiding from you in Frankie's shirt.

"I know, sweet pea," you comfort. "Just having too much fun with Dr. Sweets, hmm?"

"Don't wanna go," Gabi pouts, refusing to look at Frankie. "I see you tomorrow?" 

You look at Frankie for a beat before responding, "Well, if it's okay with your Daddy, I can stop by tomorrow and check on you. Maybe bring you some tasty chicken noodle soup? Would you like that?" Gabi nods “yes” into your shoulder. 

"Sweets, uh, Dr. Sweets, you don't have to do that," Frankie balks. You've already done so much, he thinks. 

You look up at him with soft eyes, "But I want to. If you're okay with it."

"Wanna see Doc-tah Weee," Gabi whines, pronouncing your name like weee!

"Okay, but you gotta go home with your Daddy first," you say as you manage to untangle yourself from toddler limbs before handing Gabi over to Frankie. "I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?" before you boop Gabi on her nose and hand her the stuffie. "Take good care of him for me until then." Gabi clutches the stuffie and nods.

"Hey," Frankie places his free hand on your forearm as you turn to go. "Thank you. So much."

"Take care of yourself too, Morales," you murmur, patting his hand and returning his gaze before heading back to your work station.

<< prev next >>

Endnote/SPOILERS: medical jargon, mention of needles and blood once, Frankie’s daughter Gabi gets sick and he cancels his date with you without explaining why. Frankie takes Gabi to see the weekend/on-call pediatrician and it’s you. Frankie falls more for you as he sees you interact with his baby girl. 

👉👈 A little nervous as the story leaves the gym (we'll be back!), but I have such fun, sweet things planned for them. As always, comments and reblogs give me lifeee and keep me writing. I am open to constructive feedback but please be gentle with this baby powerlifting writer, yeah? I might be able to squat you, but I'm a big ol' softie.

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal @burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel @copperhalfcent

[chairofchaos]

Evening friend!

You bring chaos to my life so here is a little chaos for you

2, 3, 5, 8, 19, 26

And just for fun because I know it will probably hurt me 40

Feel free to answer what you want and ignore the rest 🤍

GOOD EVENING.

Thank you for letting me bring chaos to your life, and for bringing me some in return. In your honor, I will answer all. Seemed like the most chaotic thing to do. I considered making separate posts for each question but then again that was a lot of work so just... bear with me. This is a long read, but hopefully, you will find it worth it.

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

Yes. I am currently bouncing around multiple Greek/Roman tragedy adaptations of our beloved ACOTAR and TOG characters. I do not feel prepared to write these yet. I want to do them justice. That semester of studying tragic plays of the ancients has stuck with me.

3. How would you describe your writing style?

I don't even know how to answer this, but my best shot is this:

The vibe must be chaotic.

It must be written as fast as possible.

It should be entirely unplanned.

If it is planned, it should be entirely overwhelming and likely a bigger project than I should ever take on *cough cough* LETTERS *cough cough*

It's not a style as much as it is entirely based on my whims. And that's not always great. In fact, it's something I don't really enjoy about myself (comment on this and I will edit it out of this post so fast I SWEAR).

But I enjoy the product. I think there are at least a couple of you that do, too, so hopefully we can all enjoy that little piece of chaos together. If not, I'll just enjoy the pain I create on my own like a good little fanfic writer.

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

I don't think such a thing exists. I don't like surprises? Idk, this doesn't really make sense to me. Clearly I have no problem tagging things Dead Dove so we all know what I'm up to lol

8. How slow is a slow burn?

Somewhere between 100 and 100k words. I genuinely do not care. Depends on the medium? The pacing? A slow burn described in a poem is going to look very different than a slow burn in a fic the length of The Iliad and the Odyssey. Or Wheel of Time (that's a long series, right?). I don't care. It's all great. I love slow burns. Haven't written one because I think those characters should be enjoying each other romantically on page 1, but I LOVE reading them.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

UNANSWERED STARS YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN. Is this what you expect to hurt (I haven't looked ahead at the other questions I'm doing this straight through, no edits, no takebacks. Welcome to Chaos- you get two.).

Eris was no saint, either. Cauldron knew he kept his mate up some nights. But the Cauldron also knew Azriel would get out of bed in the middle of the night and take off into flight, not returning until he knew Eris would also be awake. After the first time, they would rarely talk about where Azriel went or what he did. Instead, Eris would press a mug of overly sweet coffee into his hands and they would sit together in silence on the front porch, Azriel’s head on Eris’ shoulder and their hands clasped together. - {Working Title is Coffee and Psychotherapy. THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY FLUFF YOU CAN THANK DUSK-MUSE AND NINTHCIRCLEOFPRYTHIAN}

And maybe more along the lines of what you were expecting:

Azriel found the most enjoyment in the training and teaching of others. In his time as spymaster, he regularly found time to work with young soldiers, for which many have since thanked him, crediting him with saving their lives by instructing them in his limited spare time. In the years since the war, Azriel enjoyed collecting books from all over the world. The collection he amassed was the instigator for a library to honor his mate. - Death, and All That Follows (This may or may not be a sort of extended epilogue to something I wrote recently.)

26. What would you describe as OOC?

This is possibly a wild take: I don't think I care what is out of character for characters I write. It depends on the fic, sure. But I think perspective forms our understanding of characters, and seeing them in a new light can often bring a different, even "OOC" type attitude to fics which I often enjoy. I am very much an advocate for "Don't Like, Don't Read" not only for plot points but for characterization as well. If you don't enjoy the way someone writes your favorite (or your least-favorite!) character, don't read it. The beautiful thing about being a part of a fandom is the diversity of experiences within it.

I did not read Nesta's journey the same way you did, or the way your friend did, or the way my best friend did. I brought my own perspectives, my own experiences, to my interpretation of her actions, words, and thoughts. I came out of the other side loving her, and loving the way she loves. I recognize myself in her. I know I'm not alone in that. I know that there are a great many who do not like her in the slightest.

ACOSF Nesta was presented very differently to ACOTAR Nesta. (For the purposes of this argument, we are removing the debate about The Author Herself because I simply don't care at the moment and that's a much larger topic.) I don't think that anyone's interpretation of Nesta is "wrong" or "bad" because we all bring a pair of glasses to reading, and that glass is made of our experiences. That's the filter through which you consume the work. My glasses are different from yours. That's okay.

Little tangent while we're on the topic: I don't care if your glasses are different. But if you break those glasses to use the shards of glass for the purpose of hurting other people, that's a problem. I have a problem now, and so do you. Because of the inclusion of the argument above, it needed to be said, and so here it is: Don't hurt others because of your glasses. Theirs are different. Please learn to recognize that, and that it is okay to view pieces of media differently. Tangent over.

So TLDR on OOC: I don't care. If you want to write a piece where character canonically named Bubblegum Sunshine Princess because of her (in-canon) overwhelming joy and love of the outdoors and her kingdom's candy trees is a murderous assassin filled with rage and the destructive flame of a thousand suns, go right ahead. There's a very good chance I would love to read it.

40. Write a 9-word fic.

Title: This is a Thing [REDACTED] Learned. The title will be longer than the fic itself, and that's the beauty of The Thing [REDACTED] Learned. Thanks.

A/N: (Stars. My dearest friend. You expect pain here? Now I want to prove you wrong...)

Pairing: Your OTP. Or my OCs. Or is this about my life? Or yours? Who knows. I'm not currently well lol

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

Knowledge came with no promises, no love, no you.

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

All the love, Stars. You're the best. <3<3<3<3<3

[teejaystumbles]

WIP game

tagged by @landwriter , thanks!! <3

rules: list your WIPs and describe them

Flatter the Mountain Tops - my beloved dragon AU! It started as a wild idea on the Discord friend server where dragons were trending LOL and when I started writing it it turned into something at least twice as long as originally intended (like my fics often do because I have a wild idea and run with it and then... I start to want to get things right, background, landmarks and maps in my head, possible historical or canon references, fucking medieval music and swear words, DRAGON SEX ANATOMY and... STUFF O.O - and sooner than later I am in long-fic hell. Again.) It's about finding - and accepting - love and finding the heart to accept the other's differences, also learning to accept your own faults and overcoming them without losing yourself. I've never had therapy but I'm kinda trying to treat myself here LOL. If it's no good in the eyes of a therapist, well. I write it for myself first and foremost. I have a clear outline and even chapter number already figured out, now writing the second half of it is the only thing that remains. @amielot has been a blessing with their art for my dragons and I couldn't hope for a better incentive. <3

A Friendly Heart - my Last Unicorn AU that is on ice at the moment because I'm writing the dragons. I am a bit stuck in the depth of describing detailed events in this, and while I know where it's supposed to go, I haven't figured out all the details in the middle yet. I hope to return to it once the dragons are done. :)

Go Forth - This is just a collection of ideas I am assembling at the moment. It may never be a written fic, I want to draw a lot for this, so maybe it'll only ever be a handful of illustrations, but in my mind they are connected by the following idea: Dream is stuck in the depths of the Dreaming, either self-inflicted or through some event I haven't decided on, and Hob tries to find and help him. He has to traverse the Dreaming or rather, the dreamscapes Dream is hiding in, which turn out to be fairytales, mostly. Cast in a role, he has to figure out how to carry on through the story, find Dream and hope to wake him. It doesn't work well the first times and Hob is lost in the narrative that Dream unconsciously controls. With time he begins to realize what Dream is actually looking or hoping for in these stories... I'll share a few WIP drawings with you, as a treat! :3

I could also call this one a part of it, I'll probably use it for something or other where Hob gets the princess role LOL

I'm not tagging anyone because I can't keep track of who has already done this (multiple times like me), any of my mutuals who haven't done this in a while, feel free to share some stuff about your WIPs!!

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 1,547

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8. ⬇

Chapter 9.

Chapter 8: Planning

The morning found her still nestled safely in his arms; but she quickly noticed he was not asleep anymore. A shiver ran down her spine when she realised that he was trying to wake her up by tracing his fingers up and down on her back. Tav half smiled at the sensation and buried her face in his neck. He still smelled like vanilla from their shared bath.

"Good morning", he murmured above her.

"Mmn."

"We should get up."

"I don't want to. Can't we stay in bed all day?"

His laugh warmed her heart. Her still broken heart swelled with something bittersweet; something that shattered it not so long ago. That should be too soon. She was still recovering from it and yet... and yet...

"As an Archduke, do you think I have days off, my dear?"

His question was hypothetical, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. Especially now that he pointed it out that she shared the bed with the Archduke of Baldur's Gate.

She realised that her efforts to keep herself away from him were in vain. She wouldn't be able to. It'd hurt too much if she tried; to lose all the warmth and safety his arms provided.

She was truly lost. Her free will was crushed along with her Oath when she let him become the Archduke. She couldn't control herself anymore. Not when it came to him.

Tav slipped a hand on his shoulder and pushed, until he was lying on his back. She pushed herself up to half sit; the blanket falling away from her bare body. Despite that, his eyes were on her face, already trying to deduce what mood she was in.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" She cocked a brow, making him smirk.

"Indeed, no rest for the- ah-" As she moved her leg over him and settled on his hips, his voice got suddenly lost in his throat. She could feel he was already half hard. It was surprising, but also great to know that it wasn't only him who had an effect on her. Knowing he couldn't control how his body reacted to her made her smile. "And here I thought I satisfied your cravings last night, twice over, in fact..."

"It seems you were wrong", Tav cocked a brow with a little smile as she let him slide inside of her.

"Let me correct my mistake, then."

His hands gripped her hips, and he moved with her in tandem, grinding and thrusting, once again, working on her pleasure as well as his own. Tav closed her eyes and her back arched - she was always caught off guard when he had her like this. Even if she was on top of him, he controlled every movement, every twitch, every thrust, making her come undone for him, over and over and over again.

She could feel he pushed himself up to sit, to wrap his strong arms around her form as they both came down from their highs. The golden gauntlets that ran up from his wrists to his shoulders felt warm against her skin. She hid her face in his neck. He was still inside of her, but he stopped moving; sharing the moment of pure bliss in each other's arms.

He was tracing the scars on her back without a word, watching as the light made it's way in his chambers. If he wanted to be honest, he was tired; tired of running from the shadows that haunted him in his entire life. If only she could stay to bring the light in…

Gortash closed his eyes. He made himself swear he wouldn't do this – not to himself, not to her, not to her friends involved in this mess. But there was so little he could do. If he found an ally, someone he could trust at least a tiny bit, he dug his claws as deep in them as he possibly could to ensure they wouldn't betray him.

Perhaps he went a tad too far with Tav. He should've kept himself at arm's distance. But from the first touch he'd found her irresistible, and this unusual craving that seeped in his very bones was making him restless.

It was already too late, he realised. He failed, but perhaps, this wasn't a bad thing. There could be another outcome to this.

Once Orin was out of the picture, they'd be able to put this behind themselves – and what then? What would she do? She'd want to leave. The thought caused him to wrap her in a tighter embrace, and she melted in his arms. It seemed she did not mind the way he was trying to take power, to rule, but what purpose that would serve if he couldn't share it with someone… with her?

He had to cement her at his side. He had to somehow gain control of her more, but at the moment, he wondered: how to do that?

First of all – he begrudgingly acknowledged –, he really must fix Karlach's infernal machine. He had to do that to gain Tav's favour. She'd be more… relaxed around him if he did that for her. Not for Karlach. She was a face of the past, but Gortash wanted to look forward. He could care less what the tiefling thought of him. Anything he'd do, he'd do it for Tav, and no one else.

Then he must make a proposal Tav couldn't refuse.

There were plenty of occasions when he could play that hand, and he was smiling as he was already planning such an occasion.

"Don't fall back asleep", he warned her quietly when he felt her breathing shifted.

"Mmn… can't I?"

"We have to get up."

Tav sighed and ran her hands up and down his back. The warmth of her hands felt… small, compared to his broad back.

"What's the point of being the Archduke if you can't have lazy days?"

Gortash chuckled quietly as he pulled his head back to look in her eyes. She looked gorgeous in the morning light. He cupped her face and kissed her softly.

"There are benefits", he murmured once he pulled away from her.

"Yeah?" Tav pulled away from him, moving carefully, not to stain his sheets. "Well I'm listening to those benefits while I'm getting dressed, if you don't mind."

Gortash almost rolled his eyes. Almost.

"First, we get the best food."

"Hmm, that's a fair point", she half smiled as she attempted to clear herself up with the towel he dropped near the door.

"Second, we live in a beautiful home."

"…which isn't yours, by the way."

She tutted as she pulled her underwear up on her thighs. Enver watched her, and he wished he had some more time to remove it from her body yet again.

"Ours, dearest", Gortash cocked a brow as he got up as well and started to get dressed as well. "It is ours for as long as we want it to be. Third, endless riches."

"Hah~ I didn't believe Karlach when she said you had your fingers in every pie, but upon my research on you, it appears she was right."

"Your research on me?"

Tav gave him a mischievous smile.

"Surprised? Believe it or not, the city is full of you."

"I know it is, I was surprised at your confession of doing a research on me."

"It was hard not to."

"And what did you find, in the end?"

As he asked his last question, he finished putting on his last ring and she finished braiding her hair. Gortash walked over to her with a little smile. Tav looked up in his eyes; her heart stirring in a way it should not. She reached up to try and style his unruly hair the way he did it, with surprising success. The dawn drew a shining light right across his heart.

"Hope."

Gortash definitely did not like her answer. His expression darkened as he reached up with his right hand to grip her chin. There was a flicker of doubt and fear in her eyes, then; a split second when she was rethinking her choices of trusting him. But when he kissed her again, that doubt and fear vanished just as fast.

"Did I say hope?" She murmured when he pulled away a bit. "No, Your Grace, my most sincere apologies for my mistake. You're a problem." His lips twitched as she kissed him softly. "You're a terror." Another little kiss. "You're a menace to society."

"Tav", he warned her, but his voice was slightly playful.

"What? It's the truth."

"You're going to pay for all of this, you know that, right?"

His promise made a shiver of excitement run down her spine – so fast that she couldn't even feel bad about it.

"I believe you've extorted enough from me, yesterday."

"Not nearly enough."

"Hah", she smiled up at him, playfulness making her eyes shine. "You've got to catch me first to make me pay, Your Grace."

He watched her walk out of his chambers, giving him a good look of her form as she did so, while he replied in his mind: I will catch you. And when I do, you won't run away. Ever again.

[ask-dhmis-issiefizzy]

> Αѕк тнє ωєιя∂ тєα¢нєяѕ σƒ ∂НМΙЅ <

Welcome to the DHMIS Ask blog! - By, your's truly, IssieFizzy!

Ask the teachers, students, and even background characters anything you want! Go on, get as personal as your silly heart desires.

—CONTENT WARNINGS—

Cartoon blood/Gore

Unhealthy relationships/examples

Eyesore/Glitching/Flashing

Fannon comic/relationships/plot

[Some, mostly minor] OCs

—RULES FOR ASKERS—

These can have exceptions ofcourse, but please just be respectful, that is the only real rule, and other than that, have fun!

Do not use any slurs. [As in offensive words, not swear/curse words]

You can show the crew anything you want, including images, your art, even things unrelated such as apps or memes.

You can be pushy with the characters, you can peer pressure them, you can mentally AND physically torment them. Use this information wisely. =]

With all that said, do not harrass me to make plot lines I don't want, go harrass the crew lmao they can take it

You can also use your asking powers for good, and interact with the characters wholesomely. [Such as asking for hugs, giving them stuff, etc.]

Don't say or send any lewd text/images. [Gore is fine]

If you make any Fanart, edits, or in general fan content, please tag me, I would love to see! [Also credit me please<3]

Additionally, please don't trace or take any of my art or posts and claim it as your own.

That's all! Keep in mind this comic is entirely fannon, and to have fun and share my ideas! Feel free ask away now!

——————————————————————

[rush-the-stars]

i very distantly remember you asking for Idiosyncratic Ship-names for Trigun (not in those words, but thats what TV Tropes calls them. the ships where theyre labeled after words, instead of blending their names together (which the name-blending kind of ship-names TV Tropes says is called Portmanteau Ship-names)). im PRETTY SURE that Ask came from you but i cant find the Ask anymore, but, again, im?? pretty sure???? it was you?

anyway, if i recall correctly, you wanted an idea for Meryl × Vash × Wolfwood ship-name (that was idiosyncratic; as opposed to the Mashwood ship-name that is Portmanteau), and ive been wrestling with sharing mine for a while bc its a ship-name ive been using for my un-posted OC × those three, but it can be repurposed for your needs too. i should add that, for poly ships, i personally like to incorporate the number of people involved in the name. but the number 3 (as opposed to the original: 4) works in the ship-name i have. you can also ditch the number, if you want, im not your boss. or you can ditch this whole ship-name if you dont like it

but for Meryl × Vash × Wolfwood (× my OC) ive been using (DE4LOWERED) D3FLOWERED, or i guess just DEFLOWERED if you prefer no numbers

i guess you could keep the original number if you wanted to use Reader inside it tho

but yeah. that Ask has been on my brain for months now, re-popping up as i go "nah" and re-popping up again until i decided i could at least share what ive been using in private. again, you certainly dont have to use it. im not even wholly sure it was you since i cant find the Ask (but tumblr's search feature has always been garbage so im unsurprised i cannot find it)

if you were curious about some of my other idiosyncratic ship names for Trigun (to use or not use, im good either way) (tho, please note i dont use numbers for two-person ship names. so taking a triad (with my OC) into a duo (no OC) will not have a number like the above example of a quartet to trio does. you can feel free to incorporate Reader or your own OC to give the ship its triad-poly status again, i dont mind. regardless, im babbling)

My OC × Vashwood : BULL3T BOUQUET, or BULLET BOUQUET

My OC × Knives × Wolfwood: RINGING B3LL-FLOWER, or RINGING BELL-FLOWER (it's a pun on the media property, Ringing Bell, most famous for its 1978 movie by the same name)

i have a ship-name for every combo, but the duo ones (of OC × Canon) i dont feel like sharing at this moment because half the ship *is* my OC lol but my plot-notes feature my OC having a rose motif very often (for reasons that have plot relevance about her interests, i swear lol), which i leaned into heavily for the idiosyncratic ship-names overall theme since Trigun has that whole Plant element and whatnot anyway lmao rip (subtly is dead) but i hope (ASSUMING I AM REMEMBERING ACCURATELY THAT IT WAS YOU WHO ASKED FOR THIS LOL) this satiated your months-ago craving for Trigun Idiosyncratic Ship-names?? yeah. ill go excuse my multi-shipper ass now, have a lovely day lmao rip

-- Demx's 💗 Anon, or Heartfelt Anon, from way back (you dont gotta reserve the emoji for me here; id be shocked if you did, i just wanted to confirm i was me this time before someone potentially recognized me.. again lol)

first i want to say i am sorry for getting back to this so late! i have been very busy recently!!

it absolutely was me who was looking for idiosyncratic ship names!! i was from the age of fandom (or maybe the particular fandom??) that had quite a lot of them! specifically young justice in the mid 2010s? we had spitfire, museum heist, chalant, i think red cat? we had a ton! and i feel like i saw it in other fandoms for a bit too but it slowly died off!

i just loved how clever they were! i think i also remember at one point people also were rather poetic about ot3 names? i think i remember someone who used to tag their rey, finn, and poe ot3 content with “ot3: mosaics are just broken pieces” and that stuck with me too.

but i LOVE that you’ve shared your own poly ship names with your OC and so generously offered them up for what we know as mashwood right now!! i love the inclusion of the number too!! i feel like back in the day, id tag it like this “ot3: d3flowered” WHICH IS FUN!

i tried thinking of one for them along the same lines of the “museum heist” ot3 which was robin x wally x artemis from young justice…..which if you shortened their names would get robwallart…which then became museum heist! because of the play on the words their name formed, which looked and sounded like “robbing wall art”

so i was kinda trying to play with mashwood like that because their names together currently invoke like….a forest? marshy forest? couldn’t figure out something i liked but i did like the forest imagery, since their planet no longer has them and in ways, they represent a beacon of hope for the planet.

d3flowered is lovely though!!

also obsessed with your oc and other ship names too….thats SO fun. ringing bell-flower is really evocative. i love the thought you’ve put into this.

makes me want to come up with ship names for my reader ocs and these characters…..i feel like with wolfwood i at least have this reoccurring “hellcat” reader….

i do have one more closely tied to nai too…i so badly want to find the time to finish that fic.

but anyways thank you so much for all of this 💗 anon!!! it’s given me much to think about and honestly is so creative and fun!

i hope you’re doing well!! again, sorry for the late response to this!!

[karangarin]

Get to Know My OC [tag game]

nobody tagged me. i tagged myself! bcs i'm procrastinating on drafting ipap lol!!

Transcript of Interview with Huang Xiodan a.k.a. Darren Huang.

Interviewer: Good morning, Mr. Huang. Have a seat, please.

Darren: Right here?

Interviewer: Yes. Or anywhere that's most comfortable for you.

Darren: Right. [chair scraping] Thank you. You can just call me Darren, by the way.

Interviewer: Sure, if that's your preference. Darren, I'll be asking you a few questions today. Feel free to answer them however you like.

(Darren is visibly uncomfortable. He wrings his hands together.)

Darren: Is this being recorded? For a... magazine or an article or something? If so, then sorry, I'm not interested.

Interviewer: Yes, this interview is being recorded. However, rest assured what you say in this room is strictly confidential. It will neither be published nor distributed.

(Darren appears somewhat comforted, though he still seems wary.)

Interviewer: First question.

(From this point onward, unless otherwise indicated, assume all words spoken besides the questions themselves are the words of Huang Xiaodan.)

Are you named after anyone?

Not that I'm aware.

2. When was the last time you cried?

[laughs nervously] Not holding back, huh? Uh, I don't know? Maybe... (He purses his lips.) Uh, yeah. I don't know.

3. Do you have kids?

Are you saying I look old enough to have kids to you? [laughs] I'm joking. But no, no kids. They're cute, but not interested in them. (He stares at his hands.) At least, not right now. Wait, you promise this isn't for some magazine or anything, right? Disregard my previous statement if it is.

(He calms down once I reassure him his statements will indeed remain confidential.)

Right, sorry. It's just been a while since I've done something like this.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes. (He looks to the distance, smiling fondly.) Not as much as Naia, though. Have you interviewed her? Holy shit, I'd love to know what she said. Huh? I can't? Oh, right. Confidentiality. (He flashes a smile and cocks his head.) Not even a little? No? Aw, man.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Whether they're smiling. I think you can tell a lot about someone by seeing whether they're smiling the first time they meet you. Helps me tell whether they might already like me or not. It's why Zeke gave me all the wrong vibes first time I saw him.

6. What's your eye colour?

Just basic brown. I think they're nice, though. But if I could have any other eye colour it'd be gold. Ooh, or I'd want to have heterochromia and have one eye be gold and the other brown. That'd be cool.

7. Scary movie or happy endings?

Happy endings. [pauses] Definitely happy endings. (He smiles. It is somewhat rigid.) But I've watched my fair share of scary movies because of Naia. Not my cup of tea. Let's just leave it at that.

8. Any special talents?

There's not much I can't do, you know? [laughs] That sounds like such a brag. But I am. Bragging. I can paint, waltz, sing, act, sculpt, write some impeccable Chinese calligraphy—and that's not even mentioning the instruments I can play. Piano, violin, cello, harp, flute. You name it, I can probably play it. Oh, but wanna know my coolest talent? I'm Candy Cupid. (He grins.) What's that? Oh, I'm so glad you asked. Basically, I can match people with their favourite candy. I just know. Every person has their own candy soulmate. It's like—

(He speaks at length of his Candy Cupid talent. The rest of the transcript has been cut for brevity's sake.)

9. Where were you born?

Shanghai. Beautiful place, you know? Even after moving, I went back there a lot as a kid. Wouldn't go again.

10. What are your hobbies?

I uh... [laughs sheepishly] I like knitting. You swear nobody's gonna publish this, right?

11. Have you any pets?

Nah. I'm not home a lot. Would be really mean for me to have a pet. But I'd love to have a polar bear. Have you seen them wet? They look so pathetic. It's hilarious. Don't tell Naia I called them that, though.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I mean... you wanna hear me start bragging again? [laughs] I was trained to play any sport there is. Again, you name it, I can play it. I'm a monster at tennis, though. Dominate the court.

13. How tall are you?

Six foot one. And I swear I'm not lying!

14. Favourite subject in school?

Chemistry, no contest. Think that's pretty obvious given I literally teach it for a living. But yeah, I loved it. Still do.

15. Dream job?

Having my own app where I match people with their favourite candies. Like Tinder, you know? [laughs] No, but on a more serious note, I really enjoy being a chemistry teacher. Wouldn't want any other job. Plus, I get to bother Naia all day. So, I love my job. Which is crazy to say aloud, because who loves their job?

Interviewer: Alright, thank you—

Darren: Oh, that's it?

(He appears disappointed.)

Interviewer: Yes, that's all the questions I have for you today, Darren. Thank you for your time.

Darren: Right. Of course. No problem. It was a pleasure. (He extends his hand.)

Interviewer: Likewise.

(I shake his hand. Darren stands from his chair, pushes it back in. At the door, he bows his head slightly and smiles. He leaves the room.)

[jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists]

I posted 2,614 times in 2022

That's 1,182 more posts than 2021!

39 posts created (1%)

2,575 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@skeletorishot

@roseverdict

@mostlymaudlin

@hornyforthevirginmary

@indubitably-eternally-confused

I tagged 598 of my posts in 2022

#snowbaz - 32 posts

#simon snow - 27 posts

#fun with frog friends - 25 posts

#the simon snow series - 13 posts

#prev tags - 13 posts

#omg - 13 posts

#baz pitch - 13 posts

#&lt;3 - 12 posts

#yes - 11 posts

#carry on - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

besties, i don’t think even blorbo from my shows can help me from this 😐

18 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#4

Woah! What’s this? A fic? Being published by me?

Rated: General Audiences Summary: Simon reflects on what he’s been through. He’s ready for peace.

I’m really excited to be participating in this year’s carry on countdown!!! I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with and I hope you like this little ficlet :)

21 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#3

Day 4! Cake 🎂

Rating:

Summary:

This is getting posted SUUUUPER EARLY where I am, but I swear it’s the 28th! :D

21 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#2

i know it’s like, super late already, but! i wanted to say HAPPY NEW YEAR’S EVE! ALMOST NEW YEAR!

we’ve all come a long way and evolved into something extra special this past year <3 i hope that you all have a wonderful new year.

an extra special thank you to @stardustasincocaine @mostlymaudlin and @sharing-a-room-with-an-open-fire for making this year a real fun time :D im glad that i’ve been able to connect with you guys through my tiny screen bc you‘ve all become very important to me! i hope your new year is full of light and love <3 :)

27 notes - Posted December 31, 2021

My #1 post of 2022

just read the absolute fucking hilarious fanfic that is Thirst Trapped by the spectacular @facewithoutheart

i honestly don’t have the words to describe all of the feelings that i had whilst reading this fic, nor am i awake enough to be able to write a whole analysis. so, i’m just going to show you a spoiler-free little section and let you decide if you want to read it for yourself.

<3 read here

47 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[himelovesmommy]

Welcome to my blog! 👑💝

First things first, I'm Hime! I'm in my 20s, and I'm a lesbian who is taken by my lovely butch lesbian mommy. 💝

I am NOT an "4geplayer", and neither is my mommy.

I also DO NOT sexualize age regression here.

I'm NOT into AB/DL or anything like that either.

I don't like actually being babied or infantilized.

My mommy and I have just been exploring a more gentle power dynamic, as neither of us are into k!nk. I heavily resonate with a lot of "mommy/little" material, but our relationship is one of equals. We are both adults who want to love and support each other, and we both enjoy the gentle/soft power dynamic. It's just a sweet caregiver/receiver relationship dynamic, and neither of us think that infantilization is sexy. I know this probably sounds confusing, but it makes sense to us. :3

Because I was parentified growing up, I wasn't really allowed to be a kid, so I really like childish things and activities! I love a lot of the content that SFW agere/petre blogs make and I was formerly an age regressor and pet regressor, but I don't age regress anymore (I sometimes pet regress still, but I generally keep it private). So I will be reblogging content that I like here that I might not be comfy reblogging to my main because agere/petre is extremely personal to me. That said, I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND the need for regressors to have a TL that's free of NSFW content. I will ALWAYS tag NSFW content, even reblogs. Please keep reading below for tags I use so you can make sure they're muted.

I'm actually a switch, and sometimes I'm the one who gets to be mommy! Most people consider me to be very "big sisterly" and nurturing, and growing up I was parentified for my younger siblings, so indulging in this dynamic has allowed me to really let myself be cared for while also providing the care I know I can provide when needed.

I'd love to be seen as a big sister for any age regressors or pet regressors, because I know what it's like and I have so much compassion for you all. So please feel free to come into my inbox or messages! :3

Also, this is a sideblog. If you wanna be mutuals (chances are that my main is already following you!!) then shoot me a message!

Tags I use for muting purposes:

#nsfw / #nsft / #not safe for princesses

(I will add more as I start using more specifics, but those are the ones that I use to cover the whole spectrum of NSFW content for now!)

#swearing / #unprincessly language <- for any posts that have bad words in them but are otherwise safe!

💝:

cats!!!! :3

plushies

video games

anime

vtubers

cute clothes

pretty women

singing

idols

There's so much more but I think it would make me recognizable and I'm trying to avoid that :'3

💔:

Politics. This blog isn't political. It's just for me to express myself and escape everyday life. I'm involved with politics irl, but there is a time and a place and this isn't it. I won't humor political bait or respond to messages that feel like they're pushing an agenda.

Tumblr drama. I'm not doing background checks on everyone I reblog from. I don't care what they did or what else they posted or what they support. I don't care. I'm just reblogging the posts themselves if I think they're cute or funny.

Moral supremacy. I'm an opinionated person, but at the end of the day, we're all free-thinking adults and I can't control what you do or how you think, and that goes both ways. I'm not here to argue ethics or morality with you; I'm here to gush about my mommy and reblog cute things.

P3dophilia / !ncest. I love kids and I hate anything that puts them in danger.

I won't be sharing specific triggers or major discomforts here because I have muted everything important and I don't want to be spammed.

Below is a list of NSFW 💝s and 💔s. Please read at your own discretion!

💝:

being called a good girl by my mommy

being called a princess by my mommy

pussy. i love pussy. the taste, the smell, the way it feels... all so good. 🥰

hickeys + gentle bites!!! 💘💘💘💘💘

breasts. who doesn't love them?

basically the female body as a whole tbh

vibrators

muscles! i love muscular/fit women. i love women of all body types but there's something about muscles that i really love. i love feeling how strong mommy is. 💗

masturbation. knowing that mommy is touching herself while thinking of me is extremely hot!!

blindfolds. i love being able to not anticipate what comes next, honing in on how mommy touches me, and listening to her whispering in my ear. and honestly, i think they're really helpful for anyone who has insecurities about their body or sex. so you don't have to focus on it. you can just focus on how good you're feeling and let your partner love you! ❤️

light restraint. i'm a very squirmy person, and sometimes it gets in the way of my pleasure. a gentle restraint helps keep me in place so i'm getting the best experience. :) mommy is the only one i've actually done this with, and it's always very gentle, and i have a way to get out of it if i feel like i need to.

pinning. against the wall, on the bed, on some other furniture... it kinda ties into the light restraint. but i really love it. i feel very desired when i'm being pinned down, and i actually feel a lot safer when mommy's body is pressed up against mine. it's a similar effect to a weighted blanket. it keeps me from being too overwhelmed in one particular area. but it's also just hot to have her in control of me. that said, it's never done in a way that would actually fully restrain me. i could definitely get out of it if i wanted. it's just that she does it in a way where i don't want to try because i love it! 🥰

wake-up sex. i'm not talking about having sex with someone who's asleep. i'm talking about mild touching in order to wake up and get in the mood. being woken up by mommy caressing my thighs and tits is very nice.

body worship. this should be a normal for all sex tbh. but i love when mommy worships my body and i love worshipping her body too. she's beautiful.

shower/bath sex.

permission. i always ask mommy for permission before i touch myself and before i come, because i know she'll be good to me and give me what i need! (and when i'm the dominant one, she has to ask me~)

💔:

degradation of any kind. not even a little.

pain of any kind. gentle bites are one thing, but hitting/spanking/beating etc. are a hard no, no matter the context. we don't condone domestic abuse LARP.

punishments. we don't think it's healthy to frame sexual acts as punishment, full stop.

slurs. none of this "s!ut"/"wh0re"/"b1tch" business, and no racial/homophobic/ableist slurs either.

non-con. i could never be with anyone who gets off to the idea that i don't want what they're giving me

coercion. none of this "if you let me do this to you, you'll be rewarded" or "i'll only cuddle you if you do this". i have sex because i like it, i love the woman i'm doing it with, the woman i'm doing it with loves me, we both want it, and because we both love the bond we share. it's enthusiastic consent or nothing at all.

male genitalia. it's gross to me and i hate seeing it or reading about it. i also hate it when strap-ons are referred to as phallic in any way. i don't even like when a dildo LOOKS phallic, it grosses me out. i much prefer something abstract

on a similar note, performing oral on a dildo. it makes me feel gross. i just want it inside of me; i don't need to be doing this weird performative hetero-LARP with it 🤨

hair-pulling. i know a lot of people like it and i understand the appeal but it's just not for me.

anal. butts are for pooping.

vomit/scat/piss/other unsanitary stuff. nasty.

drugs/alcohol. mommy likes to drink sometimes and that's okay, but intoxication is a huge turn-off. (her having a light buzz is fine with both of us, but i'm talking if she's like seriously drunk.) and i wanna be completely sober when engaging in anything too.

[tealenko]

mShenko appreciation post...

So... I usually (ejem... better said always, if I'm being honest XD) choose femShep in Mass Effect.

Long story short, I like to play characters in my own gender... Kinda helps a lot with the immersion, despite the fact that I look nothing like my main Shep. And, in the wise words of my brother: "If I'm gonna have to stare at an ass for hours of gameplay, I prefer it to be a woman's ass" (Nothing against men ass' on my part though... I mean, I'm a Kaidan stan 😳😳😳 but I'm week when it comes to females curves ehehehehehe sue me XD)

Anyways... Butt thing aside, I always play femShep. And the same femShep, Mio Shepard. Because I got the fanfic writer disease back when I was like 13 years old and I haven't found the cure yet, so... All I play, write and draw (because I didn't have enough obsessions already lol) related to the main ME trilogy is about my main shep and Kaidan.

I swear I'm about to make my point, stay with me for a little longer XD

Thing is, with the launch of MELE, I decided to see the mShenko romance for the first time (yep, first time... I imagine you can already tell, but I'm that kind of person that once she likes a game, she plays it a 1000 times but always in the exact same way and making the same choices in every single run).

So here we are, a year later, and here's the post about it 😅😅😅

As I told you before, I tend to focus on fShenko. I love the Shenko fandom as a whole, but from what I've seen and from the people I follow, fShenko is in need of more help, support and content than mShenko (I may be wrong here... but the moment your femshep likes dudes people tends to scream at you why you shouldn't be with Kaidan and my mission in life is to always be there to reply that idgaf about how many aliens they think I should bang XD)

Said all that, mShenko.

It's fucking awesome.

Period.

Like... Truly amazing.

Mesmerizing.

(sorry... I had to XD)

I may be biased here, because Kaidan's arc with his sexuality is very similar to my own, but, the whole "At the end of the day, I'd love you no matter what gender you were" is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole life.

I was also very surprised by the amount of differences there were between both romances... Both of them top tier. And, against all my expectations, I can comfortably say that they are equally good. So if you love Kaidan and you've only seen one side, I really recommend you to check the other (learn from my mistakes ehehehehe although I think I've enjoyed mShenko 10 times more than I would have before making a few discoveries about myself... so I'm kinda happy it took me so long. Now it feels more special to me <;3)

fShenko has all the young, pure~ish, forbidden, cute and heart-racing vibes in ME1 *chef's kiss* and then (after a bit of angst) you have the mature, long-lasting, I'd die for you romance that we all deserve.

mShenko, on the other hand, is more Kaidan focused in my opinion, which I truly like, and his realization of what is love (🎵) and what Shepard really means for him, which I find extremely cute and beautiful.

And I'll admit, I'm the first to complain about Bioware (perks of being a forever resident of the shenko vortex) but I have to congratulate them on the way they wrote mShenko in ME3.

I really thought it would be ultra cringy and forced, because that kind of evolution is not the easiest to write, but I was sooooooo wrong and I'm sooooooo glad that I was. So yay~ to Bioware on this one!

So, yup... I wanted to do a quick post and here we are now, an hour later ehehehehehe 😅😅

Anyways, and to wrap this up, just sharing an opinion (or ten) here... I was just thinking about it today and I felt like writing a post about it (there's always room for more Kaidan appreciation posts <3).

If you ever wanna talk with me about our beautiful canadian marshmallow pm me, tag me, etc. If you respectfully disagree, feel free to tell me how you feel about all of this in a comment. And if you disrespectfully disagree (I don't think that's a term that exists but I'm gonna use it anyways XD) feel free to ignore me and go on with your life, it's not that difficult.

That's all, I think...

Hope you have a lovely day/night.

Imma go to bed and read some fanfics before I fall asleep.

bye bye!!

~~tea

[cafedanslanuit]

you want revenge. jean is hopelessly in love with you.

♡   —   pairing: jean kirschtein x reader

♡   —   tags/warnings: +18, female reader, cheating, handjobs (giving and receiving), multiple orgasms, a pinch of overstimulation and a bit of angst, no part 2 we cry like men

♡   —   a/n: thank you to @ofoceansandtombstones for helping me come up with the title <3

♡   —   length: 2.5k

♡   —   masterlist

“Please don’t do this to me.”

You rose your eyes at him, eyelashes fluttering as you blinked, feigning ignorance.

“Do what?” you asked, your hips rolling against his.

Jean let out a grunt, his hands shooting up to hold your hip still, even if you were already aware how hard he was under you. You smiled, biting your lower lip and went back to your previous endeavor, leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. You felt his rapid pulse against your lips as the man deliciously panted underneath you, holding on to the last of self-restraint he had left.

“He’s my friend, he’s—”

“Is he really your friend, though?” you interrupted him. You sat up, looking down at him from your straddling position. Jean watched as you removed your top and let it fall on the floor, only a lacy bra covering your breasts. “I don’t think so”.

Jean cursed under his breath, his eyes lost on your cleavage. His hands rose to your waist, stopping on the waistband of your bra, fingers trembling before daring to go further.

“He is— we— we are in the same friend group,” Jean stuttered. “I— I’ve shared drinks with him. He always hands me cigarettes, please.”

“Jean,” you sighed, your hands resting on his chest. “Are you saying you don’t want to fuck me?”

Jean swallowed thick. He could listen to the music playing on the other side of Armin’s beach house. The locked door in his friend’s bedroom did very little to silence the heavy beat, reminding him that they weren’t alone, that all their friends were dancing in the living room and would eventually realize both of you were missing.

He let out a pained sigh, his thumbs grazing on the warm skin of your abdomen.

“Fuck, of course I do,” he confessed, the alcohol on his veins mixing with his increasing desire, making his head spin. “I’ve always wanted to,” he added in a small voice.

“So?” you asked, your fingers playing with the hem of his jeans, not daring yet to unbutton them. Somehow, it was even worse for Jean.

“He’s my friend,” he repeated, almost as if he were telling himself so. “Eren’s—”

“Fuck him,” you interrupted him in a harsh voice, your stare becoming icy. “Fuck that cheating asshole.”

Jean widened his eyes. “Did he cheat on you?” he asked, incredulously.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you quickly said.

“Is that why he didn’t come tonight? Tell me, what did he—”

“Jean,” you cut him off. “Are you going to keep asking me questions or are you going to fuck me?”

Jean bit his cheek. “I want to know if you’re okay,” he insisted.

“Good enough for you to fuck me and not feel bad about it,” you replied.

He couldn’t contain a small laughter that you quickly imitated. You locked your eyes with him, a smile drawn on your face and and leaned over, capturing his lips one more time. Unlike your previous one, this was tender, your mouth moving ever so gently. Jean kissed you back, maintaining your rhythm, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“You are beautiful,” he breathed out the minute you pulled away.

He didn’t like how sad your smile looked.

“So?” you insisted, your hips softly rocking over him. Considering what you had just dumped on him, he nodded and watched you unbutton his jeans.

He lifted his hips as you lowered his jeans and his underwear. Jean got flustered at the way his cock sprung out, making it evident how hard he got from mere kissing and grinding, his tip already leaking out. It didn’t help that you stared directly at it for a couple of seconds before looking back into his eyes.

“I get the horse jokes now,” you giggled.

Blood rushed to Jean’s face, he could feel his cheeks burning furiously due to your words. You sat on his lap with a flirty grin for a moment, amused with your own comment before you finally touched him. Jean hissed the moment your hand started stroking him, your touch both soft and intoxicating. Your hands kept moving and now he wondered how he could keep on living without it.

You paused and got up from his lap. Jean watched in wonder as you reached underneath your skirt and lowered your black panties across your thighs, knees and calves. When they reached the floor, you kicked them alongside your top and didn’t make him wait until you were on his lap again.

Jean let his hand travel slowly over your thighs, his path finishing between your legs. You restarted your long strokes on his cock, breath hitching for a moment when you felt his fingers sliding across your folds.

“You’re so wet,” he muttered in a small voice, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear. His index and middle finger gathered your arousal from your entrance and spread it to your front, his thumb now gliding easily around your clit.

You cursed as he kept moving his fingers on you, losing the pace you had set on your hand more times that you could count.

“Jean, just fuck me,” you whispered in desperation, your eyes closed as you f’elt pleasure running throughout your entire body. He shook his head.

“I want you to feel good,” he replied, pressing two of his fingers against your core. You whimpered as he slowly pushed them inside, his hand feeling big inside you and his thumb still stimulating your clit.

You weren’t sure when your hand stopped moving across his length, instead setting on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Jean’s fingers were making your whole body tremble in pleasure and soon he was pressing kisses on your breasts, not caring about removing your bra. He nipped on your exposed flesh, intertwining it with kisses as he made his way up, reaching your neck.

His free hand set on the back of your neck gently, urging you to open your eyes, finding him dangerously close to you.

“I want you to come first,” he said and you found yourself nodding as if it was a command.

His fingers curled inside of you, a loud whine escaping from your lips. Jean’s mouth quickly captured you in a kiss as he swallowed every moan he was provoking in you. Much sooner than expected, you came around his fingers, loving the way he kept moving them for a tad longer until you rode your orgasm out. Jean felt his cock twitching at the way you clenched around him, only imagining how it would feel when it was him fully inside you. He carefully removed his fingers, making eye contact with you as he put them in his mouth and sucked on them, your taste already driving him crazy.

You kissed him roughly, tasting a bit of yourself in his tongue as his hands roamed around your body. You started stroking him again, loving the small moan he made.

“Condom,” you whispered against his lips.

“Wallet,” he replied. You pulled away as you looked for the pocket in the jeans that were now around his thighs. 

“Haven’t had it there for long, right?” you asked him playfully as you took the condom out and put his wallet back inside his pocket.

“‘swear I haven’t,” he assured you, his honest response making your grin grow wider.

You ripped out the package and slowly rolled the condom around him, his size still amazing you.

“What?” he asked.

“Just thinking you may kill me with that,” you teased him, the remains of his nervousness quickly vanishing as he laughed. “It’s okay, ‘death by dick’ is a good way to go.”

“That’s why I made you come before,” he said, making you raise your eyebrow.

“Because you know you have a big cock?”

“Because you,” he said, his hands stroking your thighs, “felt incredibly tight around his fingers.”

It was now your turn to feel your cheeks heating up. Not wanting him to notice how flustered you were, you took his cock in your hands again, stroking a couple of times before lining it up against your entrance.

Jean held your hips securely as you slowly started sinking down. Even if coming a few moments ago helped, the stretch still burned.

“You look so beautiful taking it so well,” he praised you, his thumbs stroking your skin. “Keep going, baby, fuck, you’re doing it so good.”

Jean’s words sent a bolt of pleasure between your thighs, making you sink lower and lower until he was fully inside. You softly moved your hips in circles, moaning at how full you felt. Opening your eyes, you noticed Jean had been looking at you the whole time, his eyes glistening with pure adoration after seeing his cock disappear inside the girl of his dreams.

Locking eyes with him, you started moving your hips up and down, setting a comfortable pace as you enjoyed feeling Jean in and out of you. Your hands set on his shoulders as you held yourself.

“Fuck, you’re so beatiful,” he sighed before bucking his hips up, the pleasure making your chest fall forward.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, hips moving now faster as you suffocated your moans against his skin. Both his arms were now around your body, holding you close as you rode him. You lifted your hips until his tip was grazing against your entrance, your hips moving in a small circle before sinking down again, this time much quicker.

“You’re so fucking big,” you panted against his ear, resuming the pace on your hips. “Shit, I love your cock.”

“Use me,” Jean replied, his hands guiding you as you kept moving on top of him. “Just use me however you want.”

His words fueled you one more time, your hips increasing their pace. No matter how much you moved, you ended up always craving for more of him. Your thighs started burning but it was a small price to pay. You just needed more of him, more of his praises, more of his palms holding your ass as your fingers dug on your ass.

Your rhythm was erratic now, body moving by impulse. Every time you tried to regain your pace you failed, just getting off as messily as you could on him.

You felt Jean’s grip hardening on your hips, stopping your moments for a minute. You pulled away to look at his face, wanting to ask him if there was something wrong but before you could even say a word, he started moving his hips hard and fast against you. You screamed as your nails dug on his shoulder, your face going back to rest against his collarbone.

Jean was moving so fast you could listen to the lewd sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs. He thrusted against you without mercy, his cock making you whine desperately against your friend’s neck, calling out his name like a prayer and he buried himself in you.

“Jean! Fuck, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pleaded, scratching his chest. “You feel so fucking good— it should have been you. Should have been you from— shit— should have been you.”

Jean dug his fingers harder on your flesh, his hips moving in rough motions. He got drunk in your words, loving how tight you felt around him, how much he was making you lose control and whimpering his name, very far from the confident girl who had lured him out of the party, locked the door behind her and pushed him to the nearest chair.

He was crazy about you, always had been. He was entranced every time you laughed, confused as to why everything seemed to get better and brighter the minute you arrived and a blushing mess every time you smiled at him while your hand touched his arm warmly. Jean was so pathetically in love he would get whatever was handed to him if it was in the form of you.

Even if it was in the form of you wanting to get back at your boyfriend.

You squeezed against him deliciously as you came, making him grunt as he kept rutting against you. He fell in love in the way you whined against his ear, your hips failing at meeting his hard thrusts as you came down from your high.

Jean pulled your face so he could kiss you, sloppy and messy but also perfect to his eyes. Gently, he pushed you back to a sitting position, your eyes cloudy out of sheer pressure. His hand went back under your skirt and on your front, finding your clit and rubbing on it just the way he just had learnt you liked it.

“J—just came,” you said in a broken moan.

“One more, baby, I know you can do it,” he encouraged you, his thrusts teaming up with his thumb to make you see stars.

This time you came much quicker, your entire body shaking at the force of your third orgasm. You screamed his name so loud there was a chance your friends might have heard but Jean couldn’t care less at the time. Watching you unravel in pleasure sent him over the edge, coming as he kept moving his hand, helping you ride your orgasm out.

You let yourself fall on his chest once more, his cock still inside you as you tried to catch your breath. His chest moved up and down as well, heart beating fast as he came back to his senses. Jean put one arm around your waist, securing you against him as the other rested on the back of your head. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the last time he would get to hold you in such an intimate manner.

Jean was no fool. He knew what this entailed. You needed to get back at Eren and knowing the animosity between them both he made the perfect subject that went along with your plan. He knew that the moment you danced way too close to him, ignoring Mikasa’s prying eyes and Connie’s surprised look. He confirmed it when you asked him to follow you once your friends’ attention was in a drinking game instead of them. Jean always knew you just needed to set the record straight for yourself and if it were to happen again, he would offer himself once more.

Maybe you would get back with Eren. Maybe it was just one fight and the next time you saw each other you would pretend nothing ever happened between you. Jean wasn’t sure what was going to happen the moment you crawled off him and put your underwear back on.

But for a moment, he didn’t want to care. As he buried his nose in your hair and inhaled the aroma he knew and loved, he thought it maybe didn’t matter at the end of the day.

You were there with him.

And that was all he cared about.

[americxn]

Good Boy (Sub!Colin Zabel x Fem!Reader)

requests: 

Could you write sub Colin?? Please??

i think you should write a subby!colin because he would love to be made to beg for his girl

this is short and pretty messy because I’m very tired but I really wanted to post tonight so here it is <3 I’ll probably be writing more sub colin fics because this one isn’t too intense!

wordcount: 2k warnings: NSFW (minors dni), oral, cunnilingus, masturbation, swearing

taglist: @kitwalker02 @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt @sanni333 @mossybank @tatesimper @sallyscigarettes @copy-of-a-cheeto @whiiiiplaaaaash @colinsbagel @nerdydoesstuff (can’t tag @three-eyed-snail @tatelangdonsupremecist @fictional-men-that-i-stan) (dm to be added or removed <3)

Colin knelt before you beside your shared bed, his eyes wide as he gazed up at you through thick lashes, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder and both of your clothes discarded in messy piles a few feet away. He trailed a hand up the back of your knee to your upper thigh, his fingers closing around the skin in a tight grip as you ran your hand up the back of his neck to the crown of his head, weaving your fingertips into the hair and forcing his head back with a harsh tug. He swallowed, your eyes following the movement of his throat and lips curving into a smirk as even more wetness gathered between the apex of your thighs. 

“Tell me what you want.” You crooned quietly down at him, yanking his head back even further and watching as his eyes flicked from your face to your dripping cunt mere inches in front of his nose, the smell of your arousal doing unspeakable things to his insides. “I want to taste you.” He groaned, the hand he had braced on the back of your thigh tightening its grip. Your smirk only grew as you used the leverage you had on his hair to bring his face closer to your awaiting cunt, watching as his lips parted and his tongue met the air, reaching for your wetness. You forced his head back, taking pleasure in the small groan that broke free from his throat at your denial. You repeated your action, bringing his face closer to you once more but this time directing his mouth up to your exposed mons and watching as he leaned closer of his own accord to lick a hot stripe up the skin before pressing his lips amidst the wet trail in a lingering kiss. Your cunt throbbed at the sight and your patience shattered, leading you to push his head back down again and giving him the verbal prompt of “then taste me”. 

Your head fell back at the first stroke of his tongue through your wetness, the touch to your swollen folds perfectly soft yet persistent. He licked tentatively up and down your labia, his tongue lingering over your entrance in a ghost’s touch. He moaned softly against you when your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the sound rumbling through your sex and obeying your silent order, licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. You shuddered, the sudden pleasure that his ministrations instilled into you making your thighs quiver briefly before they stilled, relaxing under the sudden attention of his mouth. You loosened your grip on his hair, running the tips of your fingers up and down the back of his head in encouragement; you watched as goosebumps formed along his skin at your pleasant touch, rising onto his shoulders and spilling down the planes of his bare back. You chased after them with the tips of your fingers, raking them down his shoulder blades with enough pressure to leave red marks in the wake of your nails.

Your eyes drifted closed, all of your focus narrowing in on the tongue and lips paying close attention to your pleasure before tangling your fingers into Colin’s short locks once more and pulling, forcing his mouth to disconnect from your clit. He gazed up at you, eyes glazed with arousal, chin and lips gleaming with your juices in the dim light of the bedroom. Leaning down, you captured his lips with your own, groaning at the taste of yourself of his tongue as he compliantly opened for you, whimpering slightly as you forced his head even further back with a firm yank to his hair. Disconnecting your lips from his, you straightened once more, wordlessing pulling his face back to your wetness, much to Colin’s delight, who resumed his feasting, starving to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. “Such a good boy for me.” You crooned with a shiver of pleasure, savouring the breathy groan of excitement that your words pulled from your boyfriend between your legs who began to lap up your liquid arousal with even more fervour. 

Glancing down, you cocked your head to the side slightly, peering around his bent, kneeling form and settling your gaze upon the erection standing proud at the apex of his thighs, the head stained an angry red as it was forced to wait for its own pleasure. “Colin,” you began, tone wavering as he drew a line from your clit to your opening with his tongue and idly circling your entrance. “I want you to get yourself off.” You insisted, tugging on his roots in emphasis. “I want to watch you fuck yourself with your hand whilst eating my cunt.” He moaned onto you in agreement, not hesitating to reach for his erect cock and immediately fisting it in his grip, jerking himself off steadily. An immediate wave of searing pleasure rolled through you at the sight, Colin’s tongue finally prying open your entrance and delving inside only exacerbating the intense sensation. He whined into you, his grip on his cock tightening as your inner walls clenched around his tongue. He held it within you for several more moments, allowing you to savour the feeling of having something within your wetness before withdrawing it and running it back through your folds to your sweet spot, tracing his tongue lightly across its surface in time to the furious journeys his palm made up and down his length. 

Your knee buckled slightly under the weight of the pleasure Colin was abundantly providing you, his grip on the back of your thigh tightening to keep you upright. You released a shuddering exhale, tipping back your head as the familiar glow of pleasure began to form in your gut, each stroke of Colin’s tongue against your heat ripping away a layer of ecstasy, the budding orgasm hidden at its centre his goal. He moaned, your own blissful groan blending with his and floating up into the air. The inner walls of your cunt clenched around nothing but you weren’t in a generous enough mood to grant Colin the pleasure of fucking you and so you forced your eyes to open, glancing down at where he was desperately fucking his hand, shifting on his knees and whimpering into you as his release neared.

“Stop.” You ordered, watching as Colin paused his movements, his tongue stilling on your clit before he forced his fingers to unwrap from his length, his hand falling away from his cock. “I cum first.” You insisted bluntly, the words somewhat lost to the breathiness of your tone as Colin’s tongue resumed its thorough ministrations through his whine of frustration. “Put your hands behind your back.” You demanded gently, running your fingertips across his scalp as he resumed fucking you with his tongue, shifting on his knees to find a comfortable balance before crossing his arms behind him. You cooed a gentle praise down at him before giving yourself over to the sensation of Colin’s tongue lapping and swirling about your clit, your eyes shuttering and a low groan emanating from the back of your throat. You pushed your hips into his mouth, urging him on as your muscles tensed, pleasurable tension growing and growing before its dam was shattered by Colin’s tongue.

You came with a shuddering groan, gripping onto Colin’s hair to ground yourself as your nerves lit up, passing each atom of pleasure through the entirety of your body in a wave of heat, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Colin licked you eagerly through your orgasm, urging your release to rack your body with more strength, ensuring that every jolt of pleasure was drawn from you before sitting back, gazing up at your through arousal-lidded eyes, your cum gleaming on his lips and chin.

You lifted your head, gazing down at him with a satisfied smile and unhooking your leg from his shoulder. Colin swallowed, never taking his eyes from yours as you knelt before him. Knee to knee, he didn’t dare bring his hands out from behind his back, barely breathing as you reached to run the pad of your thumb along his puffy lower lip, gathering up the sheen of wetness there and bringing it to your own lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you tasted the sweet musk of yourself. Moving your thumb back to his face, you collected more of the cum gathered in the crease of his chin beneath his lower lip and moved it back to his lips. They parted compliantly, allowing you to push your thumb into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue swirling around the pad of your thumb to collect your taste with a contented groan. 

Withdrawing your digit from his mouth, you glanced down at his aching cock, forgotten during the throes of your own pleasure. Colin’s eyes became alight with excitement as you finally deigned to acknowledge his throbbing length, straining to come into contact with anything that would help get him off. “What do you want?” You murmured, sitting back on your heels and watching in satisfaction as Colin stumbled over his desperation fuelled words. “I want t-to cum, please.” The temptation to leave him kneeling on the floor with his hands rendered useless tucked away behind his back was so very strong. But since he had done such a good job of pleasing you…

You told him as such, watching as a small smile curved the corners of his lips at the knowledge that he had pleasured you so thoroughly. “I want to watch.” You finished, reaching to pull at one of his arms, encouraging Colin to remove it from its hiding place and wrap his hand around his cock once more. He immediately began to shamelessly pump himself, his head falling back and his lips parting. “No.” You scolded. “Look at me.” His head jerked to look at you, his eyes opening and finding yours already boring into his own. His cock twitched beneath his hand as he palmed his tip briefly before running his hand in a tight fist down the length of his shaft. Your eyes flicked to the cock connected to his hand, a small bead of pearly precum leaking from the engorged head and running down the slope of angry red skin before it was collected by Colin’s palm and smeared down the length of his shaft. You allowed Colin to repeat this action several times, his movements getting sloppier and his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around himself. His hips bucked slightly into his fist of their own accord, notifying you that he was dangerously close. 

“Cum, baby.” You prompted, watching in delight as Colin’s eyes immediately rolled, the whites of his eyes bright in the dim light of the room as he came, his cum spilling onto his lower abdomen and slowly running down his skin, the muscles beneath flexing to clench amidst the intense pleasure of his orgasm. Colin moaned loudly into the silence of the room, the sound sweet to your ears as his hand made several more jerking journeys up and down his length before stilling, clenching tightly around the base of his shaft. Reaching for his face, you closed your fingers around his jaw and pulled his lips to yours, pulling him from the throes orgasm with a satisfied hum.  Pulling away, you glanced down at the hand he had wrapped around his shaft, his fingers loosening to fall away from his softening cock. “What are you doing?” You asked softly, eyes alight with cruel intent. “I didn’t say you could stop.”