#for them too!!!! i miss them dearly but i just Have To scratch this itch first before i go back to my old love ����💗

[souenkun]

I am currently Going Through It trying to write a sexy times fic for a certain ship knowing full well that I'm just that rusty and not well-versed in writing those kind of stuff

[kanasbinwriting]

lawrence oleander with plus size reader please? :) sfw or nsfw is okay. or law with obsessive reader that’s already been kidnapped or maybe stalker reader :0! anyway, thank you. just silly ideas 🌨️

LAWRENCE X OBSESSIVE READER

Thank you so much for your request and sorry for the long wait!!! I will definitely write your other ideas too someday, so don't you worry ^^ I REALLY enjoyed writing this and I hope you're happy with the result!!!

- !It's mentioned once that Lawrence's taller than the reader!

TW: self-harm

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You don't know the odds of getting kidnapped; you’ve never bothered to look up the percentage. But one thing seems certain: you're pretty damn unlucky if it happened twice.

You never thought that you'd end up tied in a chair... again. You were quite a loner, so you thought that no one would even think about kidnapping you, but you got proved wrong. Twice.

Maybe you should've gone to therapy after the first time—or taken it more seriously and actually attended the sessions you skipped. Maybe, if you had, you would see how wrong it was that your heart beat in excitement as you watched the man with blonde hair tending his flowers. His back was turned to you, oblivious to your gawking. That is until he turned around and caught your gaze. His eyes widened when he noticed that you were awake and watching him rather intently. You felt your heart skip a beat when his eyes met yours, his blue eyes widening and his expression shifting nervously. You remember that day as if it were yesterday. From that day, you knew that Lawrence's special. You didn't even think about begging him to let you go. He was just so much more captivating than any other.

As sick as it sounds, you can't help but admire each cut he's given you, every single drop of your blood proof of your unending devotion. You wouldn't want to bleed for anyone else. You've lost track of how long you've been here. He seemed to like you in his own strange way since he hasn't killed you yet. You've managed to gain his trust and are no longer bound to that chair anymore, which you couldn't be more grateful for, as it was getting boring to be bound to that chair for hours. You got used to the coldness of his room. However, Lawrence allowed you to wear his hoodie if you were ever to feel cold, and you gladly used that privilege to its fullest.

Now, lying on his bed and holding his hoodie close, you take a deep breath, inhaling his scent.

It's been a few hours since he left to go work at the warehouse and you missed him dearly. Everything felt numb without him. There wasn't much you could do without him. He was thoughtful enough to buy you a few books, but you've already finished reading them, so they're of no help now. Oh, how you wish he were here with you. Maybe he'll let you style his hair again. Then again, he might be too drained from work, so he might just let you admire him as he does his own thing. Either way, you'd be grateful. You looked at the clock. Your eyes widened as you realized that he should have been at home by now. You stare at the clock for a few more seconds before shifting your attention outside. You felt your skin begin to itch as you looked at the night sky. Life can be so cruel sometimes. You missed how he would rant about plants and the awkward way he'd wrap his hands around you when you hugged him. A sense of unease builds as you begin scratching your arm, tears welling up in your eyes. How much longer must you suffer? You wrap your arms around yourself as your breathing gets heavier. You sulk, lost in your longing until you hear the front door unlocking. Your troubled expression instantly turned into one of joy. You didn't waste any time and sprung to your feet, practically running toward the front door.

Lawrence closed the door behind him and before he could greet you, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him. You nuzzled your face against his neck, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. You felt his body going stiff as you did. The smell of sweat overwhelmed you, but you didn't back away, indulging in the feeling of having him in your arms. "Hey..." he greeted you quietly, but didn't wrap his arms around you. Work must've been more tiring today. You hesitantly let him go when he puts a hand on your shoulder to softly push you away. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't decipher. You already knew what was going to happen and you couldn't contain your excitement. "I want you to sit down on the chair." He demanded quietly and made his way past you to his kitchen. A smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the chair in the middle of his apartment and sat down obediently without saying a word. He rummaged through one of the drawers in the kitchen before looking back at you, his gaze meeting yours once more. His breath hitched and he quickly looked back down. He didn't know what your problem was. He's heard of Stockholm syndrome before, but he never would've thought that it would kick in as soon as it did. He felt your gaze linger on him. He used to feel uncomfortable whenever you stared at him this intensely, but after time's passed, he somehow grew quite fond of the attention you gave him. Maybe that's why he hasn't killed you yet. He grabbed a freshly sharpened knife and silently made his way toward you. Standing in front of you with the knife clutched in his hand, he gave you a smile you could only describe as kind of disturbing but fond in some way.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you shifted nervously under his watchful gaze. He held out the knife beckoning you to take it. "I want you to do it yourself this time." He had a sickenly sweet expression on his face as he said that oh-so-casually. You let out a shaky, uncertain breath, but took the knife from his hand nonetheless. You lined up the sharp end of the knife against your wrist and pressed it into your skin, letting out a quiet hiss at the feeling.

You looked up at him once more, only to see that his attention was solely on your wrist. A thin line of crimson appeared, widening as blood began to slowly seep out. Your breathing got heavier as you sunk the knife once more, taking in his every reaction. "Am I doing good?" Your voice was soft and meek as you sliced your skin deeper this time. He took his time before replying with just a simple hum, not bothering to look at your face and seeming to be in his own world as he watched the blood stain your skin. You let out a shaky breath as a smile spread across your face at his praise. You could've sworn that you almost felt dizzy just by the way he was looking at you. The way he quietly observed you made your head spin and your breath quicken. Or it was due to the woozy haze of blood loss. You felt your vision darken as you felt the knife slip from your grasp and hit the floor with a sharp clink, the sound echoing through the empty room. Everything felt so warm as if someone pulled you into a tight hug.

Suddenly, Lawrence's scent surrounded you; you felt at ease and closed your eyes.

You let yourself drift, breathing in the warmth, the scent, as everything gently faded to black.

[autistic-sidestep]

sidestep scar map

here's all the physical scar mentions of step's ive discovered so far that aren't choice dependent! (choice dep scars will be in another post). lemme know if i missed any!

edit: hi people from r/hostedgames o/

edit 2 (nov 8th): added some more i missed!

edit 3 (nov 30th 2024): put these all (excepting the photographs related one because i'm not sure that's ever confirmed in the text itself) on the wiki!

(cw for sh/sui mentions and graphic injury description)

general

"Have you seen me?" You don't bother to hide your sneer. Even with your clothes on, there are enough scars and marks that many people would pay dearly to remove them. (ch 22, argent meetup) Regenerate…the notion is a tempting one; could it work on your tattoos? You've tried cutting and burning, but there's just too much, you'd be scarred and mutilated before you were done, but this…this prototype, could it help you too? (ch 19, etc, regenerator discovery) "What?" A moment's confusion and then—finally—he adds up the dots. His frown deepens, and he looks between your face and your chest, marred by scars and brightly orange tattoos, marking you as other. As not human. "Are you saying that—" (ch 22, flystep apartment scene) "Do you like scars?" you tease, taking one of [Daniel']s hands, tracing it across one on your chest. An ugly one, a remnant from an angry attempt to carve away your tattoos until the drugs couldn't keep the pain at bay any longer. (ch 22, flystep apartment date) It's a slow, circling motion over the small of your back, palm against skin, warm fingers tracing the deep scars you both know are there. And a few that ${he} doesn't. (ch 17, hoots makeout) ${his} hands are running over your skin, over your back. You know ${he}'s tracing scars, the same as you, and having an easier time of it. No fancy hospitals for your body, just your own skills, and no need to make it look pretty. (ch 21, chargestep apartment nsfw)

autopsy (incision) scar(s?)

"I obtained…pictures." He lets out a sigh, rubbing his face. "Classified. Highly classified. I assumed they were from the autopsy." He focuses on you. "Your autopsy." […] "The damage from the fall was horrific…you looked dead. Opened up." (ch 22, steel bar meetup)

legs

You remember that [Psychopathor] fell against the wreckage, and it moved and caused you to scream out loud as it dug into your leg. There's still a scar there somewhere. (ch 2, warehouse fight)

face

"Yeah, things changed. For me." You touch your face without intending to. The thin scars there are the most obvious legacy of your fall, of the window tearing into you like memories. (ch 21, hoots) "I'm not the only one with scars." He rubs the side of his face as he looks at you, and you have to fight not to do the same. You can feel your own face itch with the need to pick at your scars. "Yeah," you admit with a tired sigh. "Looking into the mirror is not fun." For more reasons than one, but you'd be lying if the scars weren't one of them. Bad memories imprinted on your flesh, a reminder of nightmares you can't ever forget. It's interesting, really, the way they see you as another vet. Are you looking out of place enough for that? A helping of scars. The nervous awareness. (ch 22, steel bar meetup)

hands/wrists

"Does it say that the scar on your hand always itches when you're stressed?" (ch 22, flystep apartment date)

"I'm not sure about this," he says, looking down at your scarred hands as if he could read your mind. Soft. Human. He doesn't want to hurt them. (ch 25, post puppet crash step leg rights, chen apartment minddive)

You let Ortega take your hands in [theirs]. Warm. Calloused. Scarred. Just like yours. You can't help but trace the edge of ${his} mods where they break the skin, strangely cool to the touch. (ch 21, trans mc ortega apartment reveal)

You look down at hands so much cleaner than your own. $!{puppet_name} hides all scars. (ch 18, puportega stakeout)

"It feels like they do," you say, scratching one of the scars on your hand a little nervously. "I wish I could tell you, but I can't." […] Your hands are clenched. Hard enough that your knuckles are white. There are a few scars across them, memories of punching things you shouldn't punch. People. Armor. Walls. […] You press two fingers against your wrist, feeling your pulse, feeling the scars. It's a familiar sensation, but instead of the weight pressing against your shields, you feel like a balloon, ready to burst. (ch 17 - finch therapy scene)

arms

tattoo removal attempts

You tried to get rid of them after your first escape. A specialist, suitably coerced. You still have the scar on the inside of your arm where the lasers didn't quite take. Too deep. Something she had never seen before, and she wasn't lying. Almost as if they were regenerating. (ch 15/ch 17, reader regenereveal tag )

You've tried lasers to remove them. You've tried dermabrasion. You even flayed off a piece of your own skin, and while that worked, it left another scar, a deep one. You know it's not possible to do that for your entire body. It's too much surface area; the process would kill you or leave you maimed. Not exactly the life you want. _(ch 15/ch 17, reader regenereveal tag / ch 19, puppet auction)

You tug at your sleeve; it keeps clinging to your sweaty skin. The small hairs on the back of your arm stand on end. The scars are visible now, the ones you made yourself. The ones where you tried to remove them. (chapter 19, argent regene reveal)

"I'm not lying anymore." You very slowly tug your sleeve up, rolling it past the scars, past the places where you tried to obliterate the tattoos, up to where they peek out beneath the fabric. Sharp. Orange. Inhuman. Like you. You look away, regulating your breathing, keeping a straight face as ${mhis} fingertips trace the edges of the design. There's a slight "tsk" at the burn scars that cut them off, no doubt ${mhe} is adding the clues together. […] "I tried to burn parts of them off," you say, […] so ${mhe} doesn't need to ask. "Didn't work too well. Needs third-degree burns, or they'll grow back." "Really?" $!{mhe} bends your arm, and you shift to allow it. "Fascinating." "Flaying works if you cut down to the flesh." Your voice sounds dispassionate even to your own ears, and Dr. Mortum takes a step back with a shocked look on ${mhis} face. "I'd hate to know how you found that out." "Other arm." You tug your sleeve down now that ${mhe}'s stopped touching you. (ch 20, "good" mortum mc reveal at the lab)

Holding your breath, you raise your arm in front of you, watching the pale green hospital robe slip back, revealing the intricate tattoos etched into your skin, broken only by scars. Neon orange. (ch 24, mccrash, revoked legrights)

dog bite

Some [dogs] were kept to guard the perimeter; you got bit once for straying outside. You still have the scar on your arm, a reminder that things that are hurt inevitably turn on each other. (ch 15, 1st boneyard scene)

general arm scars

It's so easy to feel human around ${him}. So easy to ignore the fear. Your sleeves are rolled up to your elbows. Anything more would risk revelations you aren't ready for, but even like this, the scars are enough for conversation. […] *if suitag: The bubbles hide most; you keep them buried deep in the soapy water to make sure ${he} doesn't look. (ch 21, ortega apartment dishes)

sh scars (suitag dep)

The scars on your arms are hidden under your sleeves, and maybe they would be something you could talk about. Something she would expect. A safe revelation of self-harm. *if suitag: Across. Not lengthwise. Your one deal with yourself. Not yet. You have things to finish first." (ch 17, finch therapy scene)

[whumpsoda]

OOO HAVE A PROMPT! a god whumper taking whumpee—a mortal—and making them into a suggestible immortal consort. whumpee can barely remember being human, and all that matters is that they feel safe near whumper

So I made a mistake where I wrote a whole thing for this, then read this ask again and realized it wasn’t really what was asked… So I guess I have two things?? The correct one is first, and I’ll post the second under it😭

cw: god whumper, immortal whumpee, human caretaker, dehumanization, brainwashing

———————————————————————

“I… Whumpee?” 

The two met one another’s gaze, one pair of eyes terrified and desperate, the other hollow and sunken.

The immortal stood tall, draped in fanciful robes and numerous strings of extravagant jewlery, which jingled with every movement. The human kneeled, hunched over in filthy garments, sore wrists shackled behind his back.

“Oh, Whumpee… is it really you?” Caretaker studied the figure, digesting the image of their old friend. The relief was short lived, overridden by the uneasiness bubbling in their starving stomach. “What happened to you?”

Whumpee, the boisterous, ball of positivity that they had missed so dearly, was staring them down blankly. Their eyes were devoid of emotion, their expression vacant and empty.

Where was the giddy, sunshine smile Caretaker had scoured the land for?

After a moment of silence, Whumpee’s lips parted in passive fashion. “Who, is Whumpee?” Their face contorted, an unpleasant scowl forming from their delicate features.

“No… no, you are Whumpee. It’s… it’s me, buddy. It’s Caretaker.” He let out a shaky breath, wriggling inside the metal cuffs scratching at his wrists. “I- I found you, Whumpee. I’m going to rescue you, and, and I’m going to bring you home.”

Whumpee’s brows furrowed, their muscular body towering over the human. “This, foolish human, is my home.” 

Caretaker could feel his heart shattering inside his chest. His lip quivered, as his strong smile began to falter. “W-whumpee, I don’t… I don’t understand… really, you don’t need to pretend, it’s me, I promise. Just let me out of these shackles, an’ I’ll get us out of here. Together, Whumpee.” Desperately, he wished he could’ve held out a warm hand to his friend.

“Well, wouldn’t that be nice.” A booming voice enveloped the room, an overwhelming presence filling the air. Whumpee’s expression flipped, a wide, dull eyed smile stretching across their face as they turned to face the sound.

An enormous, mystical figure began to materialize, catching the full attention of the two on-lookers. Whumpee clasped their hands together, enraptured with the sight of the god. 

“Greetings, darling. I see you’ve met our guest over there.” Whumper affectionately pet the top of Whumpee’s head, grinning smugly at Caretaker. 

Caretaker stuttered, their brain scrambled in a gummy clutter of confusion. “I- Whuh… Whumpee..?” 

Whumper cupped their novelty’s face, admiring their docility. “Don’t bother. They haven’t been the ‘Whumpee,’ you speak of, for a long time. Isn’t that right, little one?” Whumpee nodded eagerly, the words seemingly flying right over their head.

“Whatever you say, master.” Whumpee muttered, leaning into the god’s heavenly touch. Their head tilted as Whumper warmly scratched at the skin below their chin. 

Whumper expelled a short exhale of contentment, before meeting Caretaker’s terrified eyes once again. “Such a good one, aren’t they? I do always make a point to let them know that such subservience suits them exceedingly well.” Whumpee sank to their knees, enraptured with the sensation of such glorious itch.

Caretaker, no matter how much he tried, could not move a muscle. The situation was too much for him to handle, too horrifying for his brain to digest.

“What… what did you do to them..?”

Whumper laughed boisterously, the sound practically mocking the human at their feet. “I gave them purpose, dear. To serve at the will of a magnificent god, devoting every fiber of their feeble being to me for the rest of eternity.” Whumpee let out a pleased sigh at the thought.

“N-no, please… not Whumpee.” Tears pricked at Caretaker’s red rimmed eyes. Their lips twisted into a pleading smile. “Take, take me instead! You can do whatever you want to me, just let Whumpee go!”

“Oh, darling, I was already planning on it. Keeping you as well, that is.” Their wicked grin only grew, shaking the human to his core. “The two of us could use another friend, wouldn’t you agree, dear?” They questioned Whumpee.

“Whatever pleases you, master.”

Whumper chuckled at the devoted mumble of their companion, continuing to litter Whumpee with pets and scratches that turned their will to mush. 

“I mean, it’s not like I could even return them, anyways. I have no means of undoing such a clean slate. So no use in getting your hopes up.” 

Before Caretaker could protest, a humongous hand began traveling toward him. Set into a frenzy, he frantically made the attempt to kick himself out of reach. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just look at your friend over there, they’re certainly enjoying it.”

Whumper’s hand soon caught up with the human, beginning a soothing stroke to his hair. Caretaker watched in horror at the way Whumpee mindlessly nuzzled into the touch, all the while wiggling under the god’s touch himself.

The reality of the situation quickly set in, Caretaker’s breaths becoming fast and thin. 

Soon, that would be him. His mind wiped clean, just a toy for the entertainment of an all powerful god, for the rest of eternity. 

It was obvious that Whumper took notice of his distress, their face softening. 

“Don’t worry, little one. You won’t feel a thing.”

Here’s the second one if anyone actually wants to read it…

———————————————————————

The god turned to the door, beckoned by the creak of its centuries old hinges. He eyed his two guests as they entered the room, one in a handsome suit, the other draped in exquisite robes. 

“The procedure has been completed, sir.” The one in the suit said, bowing toward Whumper. The other visitor gracefully stepped closer, then elegantly kneeled before them. 

“Thank you, child.”

“My pleasure, sir.” The servant kept his rigid eyes stuck to the floor as he spoke.

The enormous immortal descended to their own knees, mirroring the tiny human below them. Whumpee watched them with adoring, wide eyes. Cupping the human’s face with ginormous, soft fingers, they carefully adjusted their head. They studied the mortal intently, before expressing a content hum.

“Good, good. A beautiful one, aren’t you? An amazing catch, if I do say so myself.” Their supple grip loosened, transforming to a loop of gentle pets down Whumpee’s head. The countless strings of extravagant jewelry adorning the human jingled with each stroke.

“Thank you, sir.” They replied, giving Whumper a warm smile. They eagerly leaned into the God’s touch, nuzzling against the bliss of their hand. 

“Seems the alterations went perfectly. No more crying and fussing I see.” Whumper grinned, scratching the skin underneath Whumpee’s chin. 

“Definitely sir. They were wiped without issue, I assure you. The perfect mortal for the perfect god.” The servant spoke robotically, with a face devoid of emotion.

“Wonderful work. You may go now.” With a flick of the wrist, they shooed the dull man away. Without another thought, the servant made a quick and obedient exit.

“Now back to you.” Dominantly, the God swiped a finger under Whumpee’s chin, smoothly lifting their gaze to meet Whumper’s.

“How about I ask you a few questions, hm? Double check everything is working correctly?” Whumpee nodded eagerly. “Tell me your name , little one.” 

For a moment, the human’s eyes flickered, a flash of something underneath, which soon faded into assured comfort. “Whatever pleases you, master.” The response was devoted, trained, enticing a small sigh of satisfaction from the god.

“Very good answer. So smart.” Whumper lovingly stroked Whumpee’s glossy hair. “Tell me, what do you remember, my dear?” 

Whumpee pondered for a moment, obediently reaching into the depths of their mind for the correct answer. “I- I remember you, master. How dearly I love my master.” They gazed passionately at the immortal.

“Anything else, love? Any friends? Any family?”

“No, master. Those would simply be insignificant when compared to you.” Whumpee was swiftly rewarded with more heavenly scratches to the neck, eyes fluttering in delight.

“Just marvelous. Only one more question, and then I’ll let you relax.” Whumpee’s eyelids drowsily lifted, a pleased smile still evident on their lips. “Do you understand your role, little one? Your purpose here?”

Whumpee nodded heartily. “Most definitely, master. I am but a novelty, for the enjoyment and company of my master. The rest of my mere, mortal life will be subsequently dedicated to you.” They bowed before the god, resting their forehead to the ground. 

“Absolutely splendid. Your conditioning went just superbly! I must say it suits you.” Whumpee settled upright, heart melting from the praise. “The two of us will have such fun together, I promise you.” They flattened one large hand to the floor, beckoning Whumpee to advance.

The human elegantly neared, delicately placing themself in the palm of Whumper’s hand. Gently, hands wrapped around Whumpee’s frame as they lifted from the ground. 

After a moment of movement, Whumpee was graciously sat in the lap of their master. “Lie down, my dear.”

The mortal did exactly that, draping their tiny frame across the wonderous fabric that covered Whumper’s figure. 

As the god began to routinely sift several dainty fingers through the human’s hair, a continuous wave of pleasure washed over Whumpee with each repetition. Even if they had just been practically reborn, better and new, they were sure they had never felt such bliss in their life. 

Before Whumpee could give a proper thank you for such a sensation, they were silenced by the weight of an enchanting sleep. 

“Good night, little one. Sweet dreams.”

[flightfoot]

Underrated Miraculous Fic writers

So I read a crapton of miraculous fanfics, and I often end up gravitating towards particular fic writers over and over. Most of the time a lot of other people have clearly noticed the same thing, as their stories tend to get tons of kudos - but not always. Some of the fic writers I read most reliably get very little attention, for one reason or another. Usually because they tend to write for a particular niche that I like but isn't overwhelmingly popular throughout the fandom, but other times I have no idea why their stories aren't more popular.

Anyway, I wanted to spotlight a few of those authors here!

---

Generalluxun (@generalluxun)

If you're a fan of fics that really explore Chloe's character, look into her mindset and try to redeem her without relying on shortcuts or making other characters look worse in comparison, then you've probably at least dabbled in his fics before. I'm especially partial to his newest fic "In Direct Opposition", as Alya's the main POV character and is looking to reform Chloe while navigating this whole akuma situation, and Control, a Senti!Chloe fic where Marinette accidentally stumbles across Chloe's Amok and has to decide what to do with it.

---

linerle (@liiinerle)

Linerle specializes in Marigami fics, with a more general bend towards queer romance. If you like those, then you're in for a real treat! Accidents Are Also Miracles is particularly noteworthy, as it's the single longest completed Marigami-centric fic in the fandom. It's a fantastic story that I highly recommend checking out!

---

BecomingButterflies (@bbutterflies)

They specialize in Adrino fics, so if you want to read some Adrino goodness, their author page is a great place to stop by! I've especially enjoyed "I'll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious)", where Adrien leaves town after finding out Monarch was Gabriel, and only returns years later, to find that Nino has missed him quite a lot...

---

TrishaCollins (@consistent-chaos-corporation)

Trisha often writes Felix-focused fics, delving into his trauma with being raised by Colt, and him trying to be a better person. Not that it's just introspective pieces, a lot of their fics are pretty action-based with serious stakes and villains who are only too willing to hurt the heroes and innocent bystanders, and even kill them. I'm especially partial to their Madness series, which is a sprawling AU, touching on Felix's and Adrien's childhood, but soon fast-forwarding to the present-day, with Chat Noir and Ladybug confronting Felix about Monarch's Miraculous theft, and him seeing the errors of his ways and helping them. I particularly appreciate how viscerally Felix comes to understand how his actions hurt others, particularly the Kwamis, who he put in a similar position to what he himself had been in with Colt.

---

TheChatatonicOne (@rosie-b)

I love a lot of their fics dearly, they're well-written and scratch just the right itch! They mostly write Lovesquare fics, often with a more angsty bent.

I especially adore their enemies au fics:

Stealing Freedom, where Adrien's long been puppeted about using his ring by his father as Cat Walker, who, thankfully, Ladybug and Co. know is a Senti who has no choice in the matter - with Marinette then discovering that her fiance, Adrien, IS Cat Walker.

home is where the fight is, A short glimpse into a Ladrien enemies au, where Adrien's being controlled by his father into fighting her, but is dating Ladybug as a civilian - and Ladybug's secret identity has just been revealed to the world.

True Blue, Chatatonic's ongoing enemies au which I have recced numerous times, which takes the more unusual (and difficult) approach of having MARINETTE side with Gabriel instead of Adrien, and doing so while keeping her in-character by having Gabriel lean into his manipulation skills, telling her half-truths about how Adrien will be happier once his mother's back, and that ultimately the heroes are the ones being greedy and reticent in all this, and that the akumas all agree to help him, even if they don't remember afterwards. It's among the best Miraculous fics I've read this year so far!

Not that she only writes enemies au of course, she's written many other Lovesquare fics. I particularly enjoyed The Mer-Human Race, in which sailors and merfolk would have friendly competitions on who was faster in the water, with the winner being able to ask for some sort of prize. Marinette had been looking for a merman to race for awhile so that she could be granted a vessel of her own at a younger age than was normally permitted. Luckily, a Merman named Chat Noir showed up suddenly and offered to race her. Pity that her friend Adrien wasn't there to watch it...

[inuyashamybeloved]

Sneak peek from “Front Piece” chapter 7.

The following scene is tied (but slightly different in focus) with one that will be portrayed in “Little Pieces”, which is the side fic that will develop the Sota/Kaede relationship. While the scene is the same, in FP the focus will be on Inuyasha and Kagome and their evident feelings for each other (and seen from Kikyo’s pov), while on LP the focus will be on Kaede and her plot to get close to Sota (seen from Kaede’s pov).

“I think he usually helps when there are tons of visitors, so if he doesn’t show up in a few minutes, I can ask his grandpa to see if he’s home,” Shippo offered while walking with Rin hand in hand.

Kikyo sighed wistfully, glancing at Yura’s hand and itching to hold it.

“Okay,” Kaede replied with a small nod of her head.

The group walked leisurely for a few minutes before Shippo spoke up.

“There’s Sota’s mom,” he said as he began walking toward a middle-aged woman with short hair. “Mrs. Higurashi, hi!”

She turned at the call of her name, smiling brightly when she spotted the fox demon. “Oh, hello, Shippo! How are you?” the woman replied before looking at each of the girls and greeting them.

“I’m fine. Is Sota home? We were visiting and just wanted to say hi,” Shippo explained, scratching the back of his head.

Mrs. Higurashi smiled kindly, patting the boy’s shoulder. “Sota should be out here in a minute, he’s getting his grandfather a cup of tea.”

Seconds later, Sota came into view, carrying a cup and stopping when noticed the group, and his eyes widened when they landed on Kaede. “Shippo? Hi!”

“I’ll take this to your grandfather,” his mother offered, grabbing the cup from his hands and walking toward the elderly man, who was just a few meters away. All the while, the teens exchanged some greetings. Mrs. Higurashi returned soon after and remained next to her son.

Sota turned to his mother, pointing at Kikyo. “Remember I told you we ran into Inuyasha at the mall? This is his wife.”

She mentally winced at the boy’s bluntness but smiled nonetheless. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Kikyo Hidaka, and these are my sister Kaede and my friend Yura.”

It certainly left a bad taste in her mouth to introduce Yura as a mere friend, but it was certainly better than saying ‘maid’ or ‘employee’.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Kaoru Higurashi,” she introduced herself, and Kikyo didn’t miss the surprise in the older woman’s expression, nor did she miss the faintest trace of sadness in Mrs. Higurashi’s eyes before disappearing completely.

It was a subtle gesture, but it spoke volumes to Kikyo. The woman was evidently sad for Kagome.

Mrs. Higurashi looked around, searching for something—someone—before addressing Kikyo again. “Is he visiting too? I’d love to say ‘hi’. He was such a lovely boy!”

Kikyo smiled at the kind words, shaking her head. “No, Inuyasha is on a business trip, but I’ll tell him to visit you when he returns.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kaoru replied before turning to the elderly man, who was calling out to her, “I’ll go see what he needs. It was a pleasure meeting you all.”

Kikyo watched her go, wishing she could have told Mrs. Higurashi that Inuyasha always spoke so fondly of her after returning from his year abroad. But more than anything, she wished she could have asked about Kagome’s relationship status. Given the woman’s reaction at being introduced to “Inuyasha’s wife”, Kikyo was even more certain that Inuyasha’s feelings weren’t entirely unrequited.

Leaving the teenagers to their own devices, she pulled Yura aside.

“We need to talk.”

She dearly hoped her girlfriend had also noticed what she had seen in Mrs. Higurashi’s eyes.

Front Piece on Ao3

(Inuyasha/Kagome, Kikyo/Yura).

If you'd like to be tagged for future teases and when this chapter is posted, shoot me a message.

@xanthippe-writes

[yukipri]

The Bad Batch Season 2 Wrap Up Thoughts

I never ended up sharing my thoughts on the Bad Batch S2 finale. Since we're hopefully getting news of S3 tomorrow, this seemed like a good time?

First, to be clear, I love so much about the show. This is not meant to be a complaint thread. But I'm also critical of certain aspects. You're warned.

This is also a compiled Twitter thread!

Spoilers through the end of Season 2!

First off, I can't understate how beautiful the show was, just as an experience. The cinematography, the visual designs, the music. The unique worlds and unique characters. There were so many shots that were breathtaking, haunting. When a scene hits, it HITS.

I love both TCW & Rebels dearly, but cumulative skills + experience as well as new technology clearly shows. TBB, TotJ (and of course TCW S7) are just so captivating to watch as works of art. These shows are, frankly, worth it for that alone. But of course that's not all.

One of TBB's strengths is the depth it gives the worlds the characters visit, as well as the side/guest characters. Perhaps due to the nature of many of the episodes being more of an exploration than straight up war like TCW, but we can see more of these places. TCW also had so many neat planets/aliens/cultures, but due to the constantly pressing war, we were only ever allowed a glimpse and I constantly wished there was more. TBB really scratched that itch. I'm thinking specifically of Kashyyyk, with its fauna and wookiee traditions.

The same with side/guest characters. They all had such great flavor, with fun designs and motives. Phee was a standout among the non-clones. I also loved how it gave us such a personal exploration of characters we knew and loved before, like Riyo.

The thing about TBB is that it's set in such a fascinating time period that we don't have too much media of, at least in new canon. The formation of the Empire is a time where we know all these other characters must be alive and working hard, but we haven't seen it before.

This leads me to the writing. Oh, the writing...

How do I say this. The writing in this show gave me whiplash. Some of the episodes were beyond brilliant, giving us deeply personal character moments, layered metaphors, and context in how it affects the greater SW universe.

Others...not so much.

I understand this is not the case for everyone, but for me personally to enjoy a story, when there are any stakes involved, I need the characters to show some awareness of them, and for these to affect their actions. There are a limited number of episodes and that time must be spent wisely. I don't mean this at all to say that I didn't enjoy the lighter fun adventure missions with the Batch, nor do I think these episodes can't be used productively.

But TBB S1 started off with Crosshair siding with the Empire.

I kept waiting for them to *show* that the others cared. It could be they were troubled, it could be they missed him, it could have been shown in so many ways. I kept expecting these brief moments in the Fun Times episodes, which would have given me some emotional continuity.

The writers are absolutely capable of it! After Plan 99, when Echo glances at the co-pilot seat—stuff like that, I was personally expecting it through all of S1 and S2. I get that the Batch feel they have to do other things and Crosshair made his own choice, but I thought the point was they care about their brother regardless.

Mind you, I'm not the biggest fan of Crosshair, but I do find him interesting. And I felt that in the two episodes most centered around him, he had such tangible growth that was depicted so well. He went from stating that the Batch are superior to regs in S1 finale, to having clear doubts after working with Cody, to shooting a natborn officer because he didn't help a "reg" he'd just met. We see Crosshair being included by the clones he disdains, we see how it compares to the Empire he thought he wanted to be a part of. The writing in Crosshair's episodes were tight, and he went far within them, few as they were.

In comparison, the rest of the Batch...with their far greater number of episodes...what were they doing??

I love character-centric eps, but even on a personal level, I wasn't sure what the charas gained. Tech is the sole exception; he was given many introspective moments, from Sorenno, to Phee, to the cave talk with Omega. Not sure how much he changed, but he expressed himself.

To also be clear, I'm also not including Echo in any of this. He has been the voice of trying to get the Batch to do things, to *change*, since S1. I felt his frustration keenly. Which is why I felt that when he left to go with Rex...I sort of left the Batch with him.

I mean this in the sense that Echo didn't *want* to leave the Batch, not necessarily. He wanted, and he *did* try to get Hunter to care about what their brothers are suffering, and he has been since S1. Echo can't stand to leave them chipped when he could do something.

He wanted the Batch to feel the same. *I* wanted the Batch to feel the same. But they didn't. I see Echo breaking with them less as him leaving, and more as they (or at least Hunter) firmly telling him that that's not their fight, and they're not going to do it.

This isn't the Batch going out of their way to help, or not knowing how. Echo and Rex have given them an open invitation. The Batch know how to help, who needs it, and why. They know their "reg" brothers don't have many if any others fighting for them. The Batch (Hunter) have these opportunities to help and know they are among the few positioned to offer it...and they still walk away.

The Batch (Hunter) sees the other clones fates as none of their business. On one hand, I get that they never fit in, were called names and weren't allowed to sit with the cool kids at lunch. On the other, "they were mean" and "therefore they should be mind-controlled slaves" is grossly disproportional. Likewise it's not as though this fight doesn't concern them. Even if they can't find it in themselves to care about "regs," it's Rex who told them to remove their chips and went out of his way to make sure they did based on info that Fives gathered, without which Wrecker would have killed Omega. Perhaps I wouldn't go as far as to say they *owe* other clones, but my opinion of them certainly continued to drop as they made explicitly clear that they're fine with this being the fate of other clones.

So okay, fine. TBB isn't a story about the Batch discovering they have more alike with other clones than they first thought (other than Crosshair, who actually does get that story). That's what I wanted, alright, I know I'm not getting that at this point.

But then, where does that leave them? What do they care about, what do they fight for?

Their brother...right?

Except...they don't really do that either??? (points at earlier in this rant) At least, until the very last episodes, where an opportunity presents itself, and most of the Batch jumps on it...except Hunter.

The way he's written just *baffles* me. I can't say anything about his personality other than "he cares about Omega," but even that, when at the expense of his other brothers, is tiring. Immediately after Tech gives his life on a mission he wanted to go on to try to save Crosshair, he suggests they all hide away on Pabu (even with the knowledge that Omega is wanted and they're being hunted). I get that he wanted to hide from the pain, but in that context?? Even then, he can't care about Cross??

And then when Omega is kidnapped, the difference in his reaction between that and what happened with Crosshair...it was, frankly, painful.

I feel like by the end of the series, Tech would have been more open to joining Echo/the clones' fight. Wrecker will just go along. Echo has already plunged headfirst into helping others, Crosshair got character growth and defected from the Empire. And Omega has always wanted to help even strangers, but only doesn't when Hunter tells her no.

I feel that Hunter's the one dragging his heels for the Batch to progress, and he's supposed to be the leader.

All of this to say, I've been trying so hard to like the Batch since S1, and they didn't really click for me (other than Echo, who I don't count since I loved him from long before, and still consistently have). But by the end of S2, I think I've concluded that I'd like the others perfectly fine if they were under different leadership that encouraged them to care, to act.

I don't want to say I *dislike* him, but man...I'm super disappointed in Hunter, and I'm not sure if/how that might change.

This leads me to my final thought, which is: I would strongly prefer if "the Clone Story" be told from a different lens than Hunter-centric TBB.

What I mean is, throughout the show, there have been multiple pivotal events that affect all clones, not just the Batch.

The fall of Kamino, the failure of the clones' rights bill are the big ones. But even without those, through the glimpses of the "regs" like Howzer, Gregor, Wilco, Cody, Slip, Cade, and Mayday, we see how the Empire is treating the rest of them as a group.

I'm deeply invested in these boys and their stories, and frankly, all of these boys instantly became my faves in their few moments of screen time. I want more of these, and it feels deeply unfair that they've done so much to tell compelling stories but have so little time.

They are an extension of the clones I love from TCW in a way that the Batch just aren't, and don't seem to be interested in becoming.

Not even that, but we know from Hunter's rejection of Echo that the Batch (Hunter) don't *care.*

Fine, they don't care. But I'm admittedly deeply concerned about how S3 will go, because even if the Batch doesn't care about the Clone Story, they (Hunter) don't seem to be doing a great job progressing their internal story either (Crosshair).

I understand Omega has some crucial background we're *finally* getting to. I want to know why she's special, why she's unaltered. I want to know what she has that Boba doesn't, or if she's just Nala Se's favorite. Maybe that's relevant to the Clone Story.

But frankly, personally, I would prefer if TBB S3 goes full in focussing on building Hunter and Wrecker up emotionally, and just going full in on what it means for them as a Batch to be there for each other. They need that, desperately, without distractions.

I would prefer if the Clone Story (frankly, the story I'm far more invested in) is told through Rex and other clones, who passionately care and are in the fight. If Echo jumps between the 2 groups and links them, great! I think the Batch would make excellent guest characters. But NOT protagonists of a story where they don't care while everyone else does.

I guess all of this to say, it's sad that I think I liked the Batch the most in TCW S7, and my impression of them as a group (which I recognize is largely due to Hunter) has only gone downhill since.

Again, to be clear, I did enjoy the show.

I LOVED eps 3, 7, 8, 12, 14, to the point I'd say they're possibly my favorite eps of any SW show. These eps are conspicuously non Batch-centric. I loved many *parts* of other episodes.

The *show* has given me so much to love. Unfortunately, none of those things are Hunter.

[sukunasun]

in reference to this post about househusband nanami

i think this is how he would look cooking,,, just the overall vibes of the kitchen and the sophisticated air,,, its getting quite hot in here

jbfkjabfdv househusband nanami remodelling the kitchen because its become his new favourite place in the house and he's trying to scratch that crafting itch. blames it on dakota johnson's famous green kitchen tour—”how ingenious. she went with olive.” he gasps. plus the housewives across the street have a collaborative pinterest board in which he is a very active member of. “copper utensils go very well with teal too, although black is very trendy now. it feels a bit too dark for our home,” he ponders. (also because his old place was very that. the ideal modern home of a successful working man, all metallic and glossy black surfaces. it lacked use obviously, because nanami never thought he should have took the time to prepare himself a meal. )

thus, he gets rid of all the rusty hinges in the cabinets, replaces some of the plates because he feels the stark white throws off his appetite. prefers ceramic clay plates he’s had to commission from a sculptor in new york, then thrifts a few kintsugi mugs for tea—“how do we feel about getting a zhisha teapot?” he believes it should be a joint decision because they cost a lot but he thinks it’s worth it when the two of you shall have well brewed tea the rest of your lives, tasty and more importantly, splatter-free—nanami turns the oven knobs a few times and asks you if they're starting to feel a bit too loose, drags a finger over the wooden countertop and wonders if marble is the way to go, and finally, finally, invests in a kitchen aid mixer. 

and you have a point about the ‘sophisticated’ air because in actuality, there’s nothing sophisticated about the way he labours away at cooking a simple breakfast for you before work. the perfectionist in him can never rest, to do his job well. gets up well before the sun rises and measures out ingredients, sharpens the knife with three different types of wet stones, all while he struggles to stay quiet so as to not interrupt your sleep. he gets so passionate too, ‘cooking is about the heart and about flavour, bla bla, but it’s also about precision and discipline, nanami can’t ever just be sloppy with it, even great chefs push themselves. tells himself that it’s the only way he’ll ever come to satisfied with his food. with every meal he makes, each new recipe he tries, he aims to always get it right, no matter how many times you tell him the scotch eggs have just the right amount of meat layered around it, that the yolk runs at just the right consistency, but he replies "the flavours are not there, it needs more spices" or something about how his rösti is way too toasty and crispy, "they're supposed to be soft in the middle, i keep overcooking them" despite that it happens to be your one of favourites because they taste lovely. because he makes it different every time. and that he tries only because you deserve only the very best. 

----------------

thank you for bringing him up, i always thought of that househusband nanami piece as my baby, not only because it was written with such ease, the way it was all woven together, the attention to detail, but also just from how often i go back to reading it every week. sometimes i forget that i wrote that and wonder when i would go back to writing something like that again. i don't feel as detached from it as other works, i still care about househusband nanami enough for me to think of him very often, so much so that he sometimes bleeds into my idea/projection of him. sigh, i miss him dearly...

[raindownforme]

“I love you” in Comic Sans (pt2!)

Charlie Slimecicle x reader [they/them used](CW: slightly sexist content)

Schlatt shoved y/n through the door way. The first person they looked for was Charlie, who was staring at them with wide eyes.

Of course Charlie was angry; he was angry and worried and quite honestly pissed off! Only moments ago Traves and Cooper had run in to tell him that Schlatt was holding y/n outside the front door. He had wanted so desperately to go out there and whisk them away from whatever Schlatt was planning, but before he could actualise a thought process they had both stumbled through the door. Watching y/n stand there, dressed to marry him, he felt his heart leave his chest and soar high up above him. The hood resting gently on their head and the cape swirling around their feet was pretty of course, but the second they made eye contact with Charlie, y/n smiled so wide that he felt invincible. He stood at the altar, watching as someone handed them the bouquet of flowers. He watched as they smiled, staring at the bright blue cornflowers, then smiling back to him. They mouth thank you and he felt his face burn bright pink.

He heard Schlatt mutter “come on” and shove y/n forward. As Schlatt slowly walked them towards the altar, Charlie felt anger boil from deep inside of himself. He saw Schlatt continue to whisper in their ear, and after what felt like ages (even though it was probably ten seconds) y/n and Schlatt now stood across from him at the altar.

“Thank you Schlatt, that will be all from you.” Ted did his best to excuse the man from the scene, but he didn’t seem to want to let go without a final word.

Schlatt turned to Charlie, poison dripping from each word. “Every bit as real as you think this is, the day this is over is the same day I put a bounty on both of your heads.”

Everyone watched as Schlatt walked towards the back few rows of the church and took the seat next to Connor.

Ted cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today....”

Charlie zoned out as Ted continued the speech. He stared at y/n, who kept glancing between either Ted or their conjoined hands. Charlie looked down at their hands, too. Ever so gently, he ran his thumb over the back of their hand, smiling to himself. y/n squeezed his hand and he looked back up to them. They silently mouthed to him, this is real.

Charlie smiled, unsure of how to feel. Off of basic instinct he was elated. The idea that the person he was in love with wanted to marry him set his soul on fire, but knowing that all of this was just political confused him. They must mean real for Schlatt, right? Real for him? Because Charlie was convinced there was no way this would be real like he wanted it to be real.

“Do you have rings?” Ted’s voice cut through Charlie’s thoughts and he came to the quick realization of-

“Oh my god I forgot the rings.” Charlie huffed in frustration. “I am so sorry-“

“Hey it’s okay. We’ll go get some tomorrow. We can pick out ones we like. Together.” y/n smiled at Charlie and then looked back to Ted. “We have no rings.”

Ted nodded, a small smirk on his face. “Any vows then?”

“Oh I’ve got this one covered.” Charlie let go of y/n to reach into his breast pocket and pull out a set of hot pink flash cards. “Here watch this.”

Charlie made a gesture to clear his throat and y/n let out a laugh. “Oh god I might divorce you now.”

Charlie laughed, adjusting his glasses a bit before diving into the speech. “y/n, I’ve only known you for probably a year. Maybe two. But I know that I can say with all of my heart that I will love you through thick and thin, especially through the slime of it all. But I love you and I’m excited to spend my life with you.”

He slipped away the cards to see y/n stifling a laugh. He went to grab their hand and they did their best to swallow the smile. “Alright. My turn. Uhm. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything special prepared like you but I can tell you that every single day you find some way to make me smile and every single day I seem to find some way to make you smile. And putting together everything I know, that makes me feel like you are who I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with, which is such a relief because I love you so, so much Charlie.”

The couple stared at each other, smiling, until Ted brought them back to the ceremony. He held out a small book and a quill dipped in blue ink. “With no objections, would you both please sign this?”

y/n went to sign the certificate in the book first, ending with a swirly flourish. Charlie signed the line underneath, but his looked closer to chicken scratch.

Ted closed the book and held it with both hands. “I pronounce you two, married!”

Charlie wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist, expecting a hug, but instead they grabbed his face and kissed him. Charlie could feel them smiling against his lips and he felt like fire works. He felt like sparks were running under his skin from everywhere they were touching; the hands on his cheeks, their lips against his, his hands against their back. He picked them up, arms still around their waist and spun them in a circle.

y/n stopped kissing Charlie to laugh and bury their face in the crook of his neck, but they didn’t want to. When they kissed Charlie it felt electrifying. It felt whole, like something that had been missing.

Charlie pulled apart from them, still keeping hands on their waist, still smiling wide enough to make sure his face hurt for the rest of the week. “Hey,” he whispered just loud enough for y/n and Ted to hear. “If we give Ted those flowers we can take the book and book it.”

y/n giggled and nodded. They quickly exchanged the items with Ted. And then, hand in hand, the two ran down the aisles of the church and out into the open air.

———

Three weeks had passed since the wedding. In that time, they’d been able to move all of y/n’s stuff to a new house buried in a forested hill. Their house and home garden were well-hidden, but even if something were to happen, Charlie’s home was a three-minute horse ride away.

It had only taken a week to dig out the hill side and build the house, but even after that Charlie had offered to stay with y/n to make sure they felt safe. So for the past three weeks, Charlie had spent every waking day and night at y/n’s house, save for the very few times he had something to attend to.

Today was one of those days. It was late in the afternoon. The sun was about to set, so y/n waited patiently next to the window until their husband came home. It wasn’t unusual for Charlie to be more late than he had originally said. The boy got distracted quite often, whether it was some antics one of his friends had gotten stuck in or something new someone made. But y/n still couldn’t help the anxious feeling that itched beneath their skin.

They sat in their obsessive thoughts for a while longer before they heard the familiar knock at the door. He always knocked the same way, and he would wait for y/n to knock the same way back, which they happily ran to the door to do, then they turned the deadbolt.

Charlie burst through the door, holding his arms out wide as if he were addressing a large crowd. “Hey!”

“Hey! Why are you breathing so hard?”

“Oh. Right.” Charlie shut the door behind himself and set a box from his back pocket on the table near the door. “Well I was in town and I’m not sure who it was but someone built the coolest thing! It’s this big planet and there’s a ring around it like that one planet-“

“Saturn?”

“-yeah Saturn! Which Is why I ran here to tell you because I had the perfect thing to say.”

Charlie opened the box he had set down earlier and pulled out two smaller black velvet boxes. y/n gasped, trying not to hold their breath. “Charlie, what is this?”

“I told you I’d get you a ring! And now you can be saturn! Or we could be Saturn!” Charlie opened the small box and inside was a simple silver band ring engraved with twisting vines and cornflowers to decorate the outside, but on the inside of the band, the wedding date was engraved in comic sans. y/n laughed at the gift, taking it out of the box and slipping it onto their ring finger. Somehow, it fit perfectly. Charlie started explaining something, but all y/n could focus on was not crying. They were gently snapped back into focus when Charlie placed his hand gently on their face and brushed their cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay? You look like you’re crying.”

“Yeah. No I’m fine.”

“Is it the ring? Because I can return them if you want. You don’t even have to pay me back.”

“Charlie its not the rings-“

“Is it something I can fix? At least tell me that-“

“Charlie I love you.” He released his hold on their face and stared in shock. “I’ve been in love with you forever now. That’s why I didn’t want to marry you. I knew you’d be too good of a guy and you’d make it so much harder to not say anything but I’m really worried now that whenever you leave me to marry someone else it’s going to kill me.” Charlie stared at y/n softly. They glanced to see the ring sitting in the box in his other hand and they groaned. “I just embarrassed myself didn’t I?”

“No, y/n-“

“No it’s okay I know you were being nice but you can leave-“

Charlie, with one hand against their cheek and the other wrapped around their waist, pulled y/n in for a kiss. His glasses pushed against their brow and they gasped before they could appropriately react, but Charlie melted at the feeling of y/n smiling against him and the fire works going off under his skin, and y/n smiled as the electricity raced through them.

Charlie pulled the two of them apart, but still rested his forehead against y/n’s. “When you kissed me, it was like fireworks went off everywhere. I wanted to do it every single day. I want to hold your hand every single day, and come home to you at night, and tell you about the wild shit I find in town, and maybe start a store or something so we don’t go broke, and I want to wake up with you. And I want to do all those things because I have loved you for so long. So when you told me it was real I was ecstatic. And you telling me this now makes me happier than I was then.”

“Charlie?”

“Yes?”

“I want the store with you. And the hand holding. And the coming home at night. And everything else you said.”

“Good. Now can you actually tell me if you like the rings? Because you didn’t before.”

y/n laughed, pulling Charlie into a full hug. “Did it have to be comic sans?”

He mumbled intoto the crook of their neck. “I love you too.”

————

Tags: @rosefreckles06 @short-potato

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #135

Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death, Alcoholism, Depression

AN: @sunshineandchemistry wanted hurt inspired by Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then) by The Decemberists. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. 

They have a plan. 

They’re supposed to stop healing together. They’re supposed to retire from the action and live out the rest of their days in Malta. They’re supposed to have decades to prepare for the inevitable day. They’re supposed to go together. 

Not-not like this. 

Joe stares down at his own body. A puddle of blood has formed around it, bright red and barely deep enough to splash if someone were to step in it. His light blue shirt, now a deep maroon, is sticking to his chest and his fingers itch to pull the fabric away before it can dry. His eyes, open and glazed, he wanted to see the stars before this death, pierce through him in a way his reflection never has.  

This feels like a joke. 

He’s bled ten times more than this and was back in the fight a minute later. When his leg got blown off, he was walking not an hour later. So why the hell is the hole in his chest, barely an inch wide and four inches deep, not closing? This is nothing but a scratch in the long list of injuries his body has sustained. 

When he first woke up, he had laughed. He just got killed by a purse-snatcher. A purse-snatcher. They weren’t even smart enough to burglar a house; how the guy got the jump on him was a goddamn mystery, not to mention insulting and mortifying. Booker was never going to let him live this down. 

It was only after he sat up and patted his chest, still chuckling to himself at the sheer absurdity of the situation, that he realized something was wrong. That he was wrong. 

His hands, normally a warm brown, like wheat just before the summer harvest, were gray and pale, every inch of life snuffed out of them. Joe had stared at them, flipping them over and over, flexing and shaking his fingers to stimulate fresh blood flow, but no matter how much he moved them, how many times he blinked, they remained the same. Cool brown and utterly wrong. 

That wasn’t even the worst part. 

No, the worst part, the worst fucking part, was when he stood up, ready to shake off this awful day in the comfort of Nicky’s arms, dinner be damned, they’ll just eat another sandwich, and his body remained on the floor, still and bleeding and-and separate. 

He freaked out. 

He immediately laid back in his body, lining his arms and legs with the body on the floor first, before sitting up. When that didn’t work, he tried picking his body up to drag back home, only his hands had passed through his own arms and chest, like he was nothing more than a cheap light show. 

It was then that it sunk in, with his hands buried in his sternum and his own lifeless eyes staring back at him.

He was dead. 

He was dead and he wasn’t coming back. 

—

Nicky hasn’t eaten in days, not since he shared the small sandwich with Joe. 

“Just a snack!” Joe pleaded, batting his eyelashes with a wide grin. He looked ridiculous, like one of those Bratz dolls that once lined every shelf in the toy section at the supermarket. Nicky was more annoyed than charmed as Joe continued to beg; he was blocking the TV and his voice was getting progressively pitchier the longer Nicky continued to ignore him in favor of watching National Treasure. 

Nicky gave in, of course he gave in, if only to get Joe to shut up now that he was reaching dog whistle levels. He went to the kitchen, Joe right on his heels and made the fastest sandwich in history, a ham and cheese sandwich on one slice of bread. After folding it in half, he stuffed as much of the sandwich into his mouth and handed over the rest to Joe. It wasn’t much, barely bigger than the bite-sized sandwiches that are usually out on the buffet tables, but it was better than nothing. He almost choked when he saw the wounded expression on his husband’s face. Joe took the half-sandwich with a pout and spent the next fifteen minutes nibbling on it, savoring each bite like it was the best thing he’s ever eaten. It was cute and charming and Nicky kissed him when he finished, swatting his ass as they broke apart because dinner wasn’t going to get itself.

He should have made a regular sandwich. 

He should have just cooked with what they had in the pantry. 

He should have gone with Joe. 

His stomach twists and Nicky cries. 

—

Nicky’s not living. He eats, he sleeps and sometimes he even goes out for a walk, but he’s not living, he’s functioning and that’s enough for Andy and Booker. 

They don’t talk much to him; then again, no one talks much these days. It became glaringly obvious early on who initiated the conversations, who had the loudest voice, who kept the discussion flowing from one point to the next. 

He doesn’t blame them; they were engulfed in their own grief too, both fresh and scarred. 

They’ve become the liquor store’s best customers; between the three of them, they easily put away six bottles of hard liquor every night. It’s the only time they’re together, late at night into the early morning, drinking with a desperate fervency to get lost in their own memories of better times. 

“The widow club,” Booker joked one night, mouth curled into a snarl. 

“I never wanted to be part of this fucking club,” Nicky spat, taking an aggressive sip from his bottle. It was whiskey that night; it tasted like shit, it always tasted like shit, and Nicky didn’t care. It made him warm and muddled his thoughts and while he was drunk, he could forget, could ignore how empty everything was. 

There was a moment of silence and then Andy laughed, sharp and vicious as she raised her bottle to clink with his, “Cheers to fucking that!” 

During the day, Nicky sleeps. A lot. 

Nicky sleeps, because if he sleeps, he can dream. In his dreams, Joe is still with him, leading him through the world with both hands and promising to never leave his side. In his dreams, Joe is bright and warm, kissing him like he never left, loving him like they had all the time in the world. In his dreams, he can savor the weight of Joe’s loving gaze, anchoring him in this sea of madness. 

Most days, he wakes up around three in the afternoon. He stares at the ceiling until his stomach grumbles, and only when the pain becomes unbearable does he get up to get something to eat.

Sometimes, the stupid wind chimes will wake him up before three and those days are always the worst. Joe had loved those wind chimes; he would run his fingers through them every morning just to hear them sing, laughing as the house filled with its tinkling sound. 

Nicky hates those fucking wind chimes. 

He hates how every time he hears them, he thinks that it’s Joe, gently pushing one tube into another, creating a new song only for their ears. He hates how he turns his head with a sleepy smile towards the chimes, a teasing remark on the tip of his tongue, only to be splashed with the bitter reality that he’s alone, has been alone for awhile now. 

Nicky hates those wind chimes and he wishes he could melt it down into something useful, something quiet, but it was Joe’s and Nicky can’t. He can’t destroy something that Joe loved so dearly. 

But God does Nicky loathe them. They weren’t even under a vent and they still made noise. 

Other times, the birds will wake him up. They never had this many birds before Joe, but after, Nicky sometimes wakes up to five birds on his windowsill, chirping and chirping and chirping. They’re loud and they arch up into nothing and Nicky hates them almost as much as the wind chimes because Joe would have loved them. Joe would’ve sat in front of the windowsill for hours, sketching and observing the birds, swallows, or were they sparrows, tossing them little seeds to keep them there longer. Hell, Joe would have set up a bird feeder to accommodate their many visitors. To Nicky, those birds are just another reminder that Joe’s gone and he wishes that they would just leave this house of grief alone. 

So Nicky sleeps and he drinks, because if he does, he doesn’t have to live in a world that’s constantly screaming Joe’s name. 

He’s not living. 

It’s not really functioning either. 

—

It works. 

It works. 

Joe gasps back to life and he’s in the quiet comfort of Nicky’s arms, just like he wanted that stupid day and everyday since. The weight of his arms, solid and warm across Joe’s chest, it’s enough to make him burst into tears.  

“I missed you,” Nicky sobs, pulling him into a tight hug and Joe can’t wrap his arms around Nicky fast enough. He clings to his husband, taking in the twin scents of Irish Spring and cheap cologne, a combination he never thought he would miss; it smells like home. 

“I was always there,” Joe whispers, “The birds, the chimes, the damn towel on the floor. I never left.” I never left you. 

They’re both shaking apart in each other’s arms, but for the first time in months, it’s ok. It’s ok. 

Nicky laughs, it’s choked and brittle, but it’s the first time he’s laughed since that day, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world to Joe’s ears right now. “I hated all those things.” 

“I know,” Joe confesses, pulling back just enough to look at Nicky. He wipes away the snot and tears with the back of his hand. Nicky stares at him through red-rimmed eyes, a new kind of desperation shining in them that Joe knows are reflecting from his own. “But it got you out of bed, out of the house, and so I never stopped.” 

They have a plan.

They’re going to stop healing together. They’re going to retire from the action and they’re going to live the rest of their days in Malta.  

They’re not straying away from it this time.   

[chaiscentedcandle]

Christmas With Neville (Neville Longbottom x fem!reader)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Neville Longbottom

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: y/n and Neville spend Christmas together with the Weasley family at their place

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: no

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! Except for the amount of fluff oh my gOD get ready to be smOTHERED

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,380

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Here’s a lil Christmas present for all you Neville simps out there😘I hope y’all had a good Christmas and if you didn’t I want you to know you’re loved and I wish you a Happy Christmas!❤️ this is my gift from me to y’all! Have a wonderful rest of your Christmas, or Hanukkah, whatever you celebrate and if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you had a great Friday!

Christmas was a magical time, adding more magical flare to the wizarding world. The ambiance and the memories that came with Christmas are something to remember, decorating a tree and putting decently wrapped presents under the tree is always nostalgic. Tearing up the decorative paper or untying the fancy ribbon. The excitement that ran through your bones and every molecule as you tear through the paper to see what you’ve got, Christmas was a beautiful time.

Y/n stood in the living room around a perfectly sized tree which radiated off the smell of pine. Silver tinsel swirled around the tree and red ornaments dazzled. Y/n grabbed a handful of candy canes and placed them around the tree, scattering them in a pattern, Neville walked into the room and reached for a candy cane. Y/n slapped his hand away “not yet, I haven’t finished decorating” she said “and everyone isn’t here yet, I don’t want a Christmas tree with five candy canes left on it” her and Neville giggled.

“At least save some for me, I’ll be in the other room finishing wrapping gifts, so don’t come in....please” he said, Y/n smiled at him “why are you just now finishing wrapping?” He shuffled his feet and shrugged “no reason”.

As Neville was walking away Y/n called him “wait, Neville!” He stopped and turned to her, she speed walked over to him. Holding his hips they shared a sweet kiss, most people could see it but in moments like these Neville liked it when his partner would hold his hips, and he held onto her arms. When they let go he gave her a bright smile “what was that for?” He asked, it was her turn to shrug “cause I wanted too” still smiling he gave her a lingering kiss on the forehead, she held up a candy cane for him, he didn’t hesitate to take it “now go finish that tree” he told her. She smiled and turned back to the tree.

Y/n had been standing in front of the tree deep in thought, her hands on her hips as she tilted her head in different directions, trying to see what was missing. Just as she was about to give up Neville came in with two ornaments in his hands “look what I found” he said as he held them out, two ornaments with the crests from both of their houses.

Taking them out of his hands she mumbled a “perfect!” Placing them up near the star.

As Neville was placing the rest of the gifts under the tree there was a knock at the door, turning both their attention to the door “I’ll get it! You finish putting the presents under the tree” Y/n quickly made her way to the door, opening it she saw mops of ginger hair as she welcomed the Weasleys plus their significant others, Molly greeted her first “Y/n! Dear! How good it is to see you!” She pulled Y/n into a bone crushing hug. “It’s so good to see you as well, Molly, please, come in from out the cold!” She ushered the rest of the family inside, giving everyone a hug as they passed. When Ron gave her a hug and was about to pass she grabbed his arm “oh, Ron” she started, he turned to her with wide eyes. She just gave him a smile “help yourself to the food, we have more than we need” a big smiled etched across his face “thanks, Y/n” she ruffled his hair and let him through.

The last person to enter was Harry, “Harry!” Just like Ron, Harry looked at her with wide eyes. “How are you? You doing okay?” Harry was a more reserved person and mostly kept his feelings to himself, but if you asked him he’d lie but if you pressed he’d tell you. Now that he’s older he’s a little more open. It had only been a few years after the war, it was still fresh and it was always good to check on people.

Harry nodded his head “I’m-I’m doing better, a lot better, thank you, how are you?” He asks, giving him a soft smile she responds with “I’m doing well, thank you, now come in”.

Everyone was mingling in the living room, Ron no doubt had already been indulging himself in the appetizers, Y/n made herself busy in the kitchen with the last of the food, Molly came into to help, at first Y/n refused but Molly wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Really, Y/n, dear, thank you so much for hosting Christmas this year, it’s means a lot” Molly gushed to her “anything for family” Y/n responded.

They placed all the food out on the table, the smell taking over the kitchen and a quick “foods ready!” Had the rest of the party rushing into the kitchen, of course the boys were first, quickly taking their seats while the girls lagged behind and rolled their eyes at their antics. Arthur took the head of the seat while Neville took a seat next to Y/n, grabbing her hand and interlacing her fingers with his, he brought her hand up to place a kiss on the back. They passed food back and forth, getting at least a scoop or two of everything. Laughter could be heard all throughout the room, silverware scraping against plates, the twins constant jokes followed along with more laughter. Y/n could’ve sworn she almost peed herself from the jokes. But to make the moment even more special she got to spend it with her partner, that never got old for Y/n, no matter how older they got.

Finally came the presents, the waited anticipation to scratch your fingers along a wrapped box until the paper started to peel. Ron ripped through his like no tomorrow, same with Harry, Molly maneuvered around people and empty boxes to give everyone their presents. Soon she handed Y/n a decently sized box, wrapped in red and silver paper, on the top it said “To: my dearly beloved From: Neville” unlike Ron and Harry she found a fold and tore from there. Neville sat across from her, watching as she opened her present, excitedly waiting her reaction. Once it was open she let out a gasp, it was a picture of them in front of their house when they first got it, about a couple months ago, in the picture they both had bright smiles and Neville grabbed her waist and spins her around then dips her for a kiss. “Oh my gosh” Y/n let out, tears sprung to her eyes and she let a few out, maybe it was silly to cry about but it was important to her, she wiped her eyes “my gift definitely won’t top this, oh my gosh” grabbing the picture and hugging it close, Nevilles smile was beaming and brighter than the Christmas decorations “whatever it is you got me, I’m sure I’ll love it” he stood up and gave her another forehead kiss and another on the tip of her nose. Molly gave Neville his present from Y/n, now it was her turn to see his reaction, tearing away the paper like a beast his eyes grew ten times bigger once he saw it. It was a Herbology book he had been eyeing for quite some time “you didn’t” he said in shock “oh but I did” Y/n responded, itching for his reaction she asked “do you like it?” Neville tried to put words together until he settled with “yeah! Wow”.

Everyone was settling in to watch a movie, letting the dinner process for desert, Y/n and Neville sat next to each other on their couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, Y/n was looking at the telly while Neville was looking at her. “Did you have a good time?” He slightly whispered, she turned her attention to him “couldn’t have been any better” reaching up their lips connected for a gently kiss, once they broke away Y/n cuddled into Neville. It was in fact a great Christmas.

[sapphiques]

i saw the aces in your tags and it physically pains me to listen to anything that isn’t Under My Influence. Could you rank the songs from this album would love to know your thoughts

hi omg, if i remember correctly i had the aces in my tags for one of those rb bait posts AGES ago,, this message didn't show up until recently and only on desktop??? i am so sorry 😭 HOWEVER i am always down to talk abt the aces and coincidentally i saw them in concert this past weekend and they were fucking!!!! incredible!!!! and so very gay!!!!! i'll put it under a cut bc this ended up being long as hell LMAO

1. cruel - honestly i could listen to this song for the rest of my mfing life….like the yearning and the beat and the SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE MEEEEE….i’m sent into another plane of existence every time

2. i can break your heart too - i love the guitar in this one SOOOO much i want to live in the way this song makes me feel

3. daydream - this song is so summer drives and wind in your hair and i love her dearly

4. thought of you - where do i start w this song….like i can’t stop thinking about you but i can’t find you…..so i’ll keep dreaming about you…..and your sweet love……..GAWD

5. kelly - i believe in ‘wlw songs titled w the girl’s name’ supremacy (seeing this song live…an out of body experience truly)

6. can you do - something about this entire song scratches an itch in the back of my brain……yeah

7. lost angeles - i feel like they just captured the feeling of having bittersweet memories associated with a place because of a person you miss/who has hurt you....also she's a BOP

8. my phone is trying to kill me - this one is just so fun!!!!! i want to smash some shit w a baseball bat to this song ya know!!!!!!

9. new emotion - i love a good friends to lovers plot plus this song reminds me of their first album <3 it just has the same vibe

10. not enough - #relatable content and it’s another track that scratches an itch in my brain AND this song hits sooo different live like i was screaming the bridge at the top of my lungs bro

11. zillionaire - this song is so so cute my future gf is going to be sick of this song

12. going home - this song just,, makes me want love </3

13. 801 - respectfully i would like to make out w someone to this song like i KNOW it’s about their homophobic midwestern hometown but the melody is just so……sensual……i’m going to hell for this

14. all mean nothing - when i have an ex to be bitter about i know this will be my SHIT but for now i enjoy the bass

this is honestly like. one of thee top 5 no skips albums of this year for me and i would love to know your thoughts too bestie!!!!!

[charliehoennam]

when the levee breaks.

a/n: Boyd Holbrook and @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook woke a demon inside me and it made me do this! 🙌🏼 Keep in mind this was typed of my phone so I apologize beforehand!

Summary: Y/N finds themselves longing for their currently absent husband DEA Agent Steve Murphy. Accustomed to getting what they want, Y/N persuades Steve to pay a quick little visit and help out a fire.

Warnings: (this is fictional sin, please practice safe sex y'all!) language, erotic dancing, smut, cockwarming 'cause it's boyd, phone sex, internal ejaculation?

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG!

The scent on his pillow was driving you insane. You could’ve not held it close - imagining that it was the husband you so dearly missed sharing your bed with every night - but you refused to let it go. The cotton fabric of the pillowcase was drenched in him. The warm mixture of his natural musk, his favorite shaving cream and deodorant just enticed you into a blissful daze that was sometimes enough to get you to sleep. But not tonight. Tonight, it lulled you into something different. And his absence was only fuel to this fire.

Nothing could substitute him. Not the removable shower head; not the cold shower in an attempt to cool yourself off; not the pillow you ground yourself into chasing a desperate release to your sexual tension; not the vibrator you kept in the nightstand. Nothing could scratch the itch that’d been in your core the whole damn night. You needed Steve and you needed him desperately. But much to your unfortunate despair, he was spending a long night at the embassy hunting his prey.

Just the thought of him made your pussy quiver in your panties. You knew he’d be sat in his chair with his sleeves rolled to flaunt those thick forearms you loved to clutch onto when he locked you in them, fucking you barbarically enough to make you unable to even catch your breath. A cigarette would most likely be pinched between his index and thumb, its smoke being expelled from his nostrils. And that look would certainly be in his eyes. That look a hunter has when focused and locked on his prey, dauntingly calm and calculating.

The look he’d watch you with when you would perform a sultry and alluring lap dance for his eyes only to When The Levee Breaks by Led Zeppelin, dressed in the lacy lingerie you’d carefully picked out with his favorite color in mind. He would always be controlled enough to only watch you with his whiskey in one hand and cigarette in the other. Although, the only thing that really kept him collected was the certainty that his prey would be completely devoured once the taunting was through. He’d let you have your fun - blue balling and teasing him until his cock was rock solid in his pants -  though you both knew that would be temporary and soon, his turn to establish his dominance would come. Which, in all honesty, was exactly what you wanted. You were his precious little wife who always got what she wanted, it's what you were good at and what he admired about you. And you would do whatever it took, knowing all the right buttons to set him off in the direction you needed him to.

He loved seeing how dirty you were willing to get for him and he enjoyed it enough to sit back and simply watch. You’d pull a smirk from his lips when you’d lower your ass directly to his crotch - between those endlessly long, thick thighs of his tall frame you’d hold onto for balance - and roll your hips to the rhythm of the song, making sure to keep your pace slow so that his eyes would catch every inch of the beautifully round flesh in his lap. The flesh you both knew he’d be pounding into and pressed against – breathing warm, open-mouthed kisses from the back of your head to your temple - using your pussy to sheth his cock, too comfortable in your wet warmth to even consider pulling himself out. Some nights, he’d collapse on your back and allow himself the liberty of staying inside your walls. He was always careful enough to not crush your lungs – he was aware he was a giant – so he’d lean a little more onto his shoulder to let you breathe comfortably. But there was no doubt your hips would be locked under his with his cock buried snug in your cunt.

But the only mess you could feel right now was between your clenched thighs. Your folds were slick just at the thought of him, yearning for his cock to fill you and be where it belonged. Maybe if you begged him enough, he’d come home for just a quickie. Just a couple of rounds to get it out of your fucking system to let you get some goddamn sleep.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you turned the dial on the rotary phone, propped on top of the bed beside you. Teeth anxiously gnawing on your lower lip, you sprawled lazily onto your back and closed your eyes anxious to hear that voice.

“’ey, baby. Everythin' fine?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine, alright.”

“Somethin' on your mind?” Worried it might be something more serious than he’d expect, he walked across the hall and snuck into an old, dingy broom closet for some privacy.

“Oh, I was just thinking about that other night... When you slept with your cock still in me. Gotta hand it to you, babe. You sure know how to fuck a lady.”

“Baby, you know I’m meant to be workin'.” The quiet sigh from his lips meant he was a little impatient to be dealing with this at the moment, but you had absolutely no fucks to give.

“No, what you’re meant to be doing is me. You’re meant to be here, right where my fingers are. Do you have any idea how wet I got just by thinking about your cock?”

“No, I do not and I can’t be thinkin' 'bout it right now, baby.”

“Why not? ‘cause it’ll make you all hard? Don’t worry, baby. You ain’t gotta strut down the hall with that big hard cock in your pants. Pull it out, lemme take of it care for ya.”

“What? Are you insane? I-i could get fired for this, Y/N.”

His tone was low and hushed, but nervous. He was surprised you’d even have the balls to do this over the phone and at that very moment, but your bravery made his lust echo loudly through his throbbing veins and drowned out any voice of reason in his mind.

“Are there any cameras around?” you smirked to yourself. You heard the background noise simmer out. He was probably in his office or a safe enough place.

“Well, n-not exactly. I’m in some old broom closet with a mop in a bucket that’s probably been in here for too long.”

“So I’ll take that as a no then” you chuckled. “C’mon, baby. Do it for me. I just need you so bad right now. Unless you wanna drive down here for a quickie.”

“You know damn well I can’t leave right now. Things are tense here.”

“Things are tense here too, baby. Tell me you’re not hard right now. Tell me you’re not thinking about your cock in my tight little pussy. Tell me you’re not remembering what it felt like to cum in me that night. You loved it so much, you didn’t pull out even to sleep. Just kept that thick, juicy cock inside me, right where it should be. Just say the words and I’ll hang up right now.”

For a moment, there was only silence. You were pretty sure Steve was biting his lower lip and internally debating with himself on his moral and professional ethics. He knew it was wrong but fuck it, he wasn’t insane to pass this opportunity up. If Peña can get away sleeping with hookers for intel, he could get away with a 5-minute handjob to the voice of his wife.

He could hear you touching yourself. You weren't trying to be exactly subtle about it. The sticky sounds of your wetness were music to his ears but the sound of his belt unbuckling and pants unzipping was music to yours.

“Atta boy. Got your hand on that big cock for me now, don’t ya?” you giggled.

“Fuck, you know I do, princess. Wish it were in that filthy lil' mouth of yours” he breathed into the phone stroking himself.

“I wish it were too. Wish I could taste that big cock of yours, make you cum down my throat. You always love it when I swallow like a good girl.” You couldn’t fight back the moan your fingers worked out of you and he was thankful. Hearing your moan made his cock twitch in his hand.

“You know I do, baby girl. But I love it even more when you take my load in that tight pussy. You know who it belongs to, don’t you?” he groaned with a clenched jaw.

“It belongs only to you, baby. This pussy is all yours to cum in. It’s all wet and ready for your cum, baby. You whimpered growing closer to your climax. You knew you wouldn't last long. "Fuck, I need it so much, Steve. My pussy is so empty without you."

“That what ya want? You want my cum inside you?” Judging from the state of his breathing, you weren’t the only one. Hearing the obscenities rolling off your tongue sent electricity through his bones, building up the pressure quickly in the pits of his stomach.

“Oh God, yes! Want you to fuck me raw, Stevie. Fill me up, baby please. I wanna be so full, it oozes out of me so you can play with it. Shit,I love it when you play with my pussy!”

“Fuck, you know I love seeing that pussy covered in my cum.”

“I love playing in your cum, baby! Fuck, I’m so close! I-i!”

“Cum for me, princess” he growled lowly holding his breath for a few seconds as he felt himself tense up, shutting his eyes hard and biting his lower lip to keep himself quiet as he came hard against the wall in front of him with the final firm but rapid strokes around the tip of his cock.

“Fucking shit!” you gasped, letting the wave of tingling pleasure crash over your senses. “Oh baby, I made such a mess here.”

“Guess that makes of two of us” he hissed looking at the milky white beads - the load that he deeply wished was in you - against the dated mossy green chipped paint on the wall. “I want that pussy ready to be fucked when I get home in 10 minutes. Just one quickie and that’s all you’re getting tonight 'cause I gotta be back here soon. I make myself clear, lil' lady?”

“Crystal clear, baby!”

[existtolaugh]

B.W.F. - Raw - 11/23/20 (Chapter 02)

SPOILERS AHEAD FROM RAW

Alexa Bliss vs. Nikki Cross

"Wakey.. Wakey.. Little Nikki..~"

Nikki groaned as her eyes began to flutter open.. She didn't know where she was exactly.. But her head was fuzzy.. And.. She couldn't move.. "Hhnmph..?" The gag in her mouth prevented her from speaking.. But upon looking up she saw none other than Little Miss Bliss Herself.. "Hiya, Nikki.. You nice and cozy wozy? I hope so.. You're gonna be here for quite some time..~"

Nikki Cross was security locked in a set of stocks, belts securing her body tightly to a big, cartoonish chair.. She could move hardly an inch.. And that included het toes.. "Mmgghph..?" Normally, Nikki loved being tickled.. But Alexa..? This wasn't what she wanted.. She wanted her friend back.. And she failed.. And now, she would suffer the consequences..

"Oh Nikki.. I've missed playtime so, so much.. So I wanted to make sure that there was nothing stopping us for playing as much as we want! You'll be here for.. Well.. I have no idea.. But don't worry.. Nobody will bother us here..~" Bliss explained before slipping over to slide a bean bag chair over to Nikki's bare and exposed feet.. "Let's not waste anymore time, hun.. Let's get this party started..~"

If it was any other scenario, Nikki would love this.. But she struggled to get away.. But unfortunately for her.. As soon as Alexa's nails made contact with the soft soles locked firmly in those stocks, it was all over.. The giggles started to flow, Nikki's fingers began to clench and shake for a way out, the stocks shook.. And Alexa just smiled wickedly..

"Poor wittle Nikki.. Too tickly for her own good! Whatever are we gonna do with ya?" She chuckled as her nails raked up and down, up and down those taut tootsies, and all Nikki could do was cackle louder and louder with each stroke.. Her toes tried to clench, but the ropes binding them up made it impossible for her to do so.. And Alexa knew this.. And began to poke at those poor toes..

"Uh-oh.. Don't tell me these toes are trying to run away from me..! Oh me oh my, this just won't do! You know what we do with naughty little toes here in in funhouse..? We punish them.." Her tone became darker.. More sadistic.. Before Alexa brandished the first tool of her arsenal.. A toothbrush that buzzed on and forced itself between the third and forth toes on Nikki's left foot, causing the girl to shriek and throw her head back.. "N-NMGGHH! NNGMM! GGNNMPH!" She wanted to beg, she wanted to get through to who was once her best friend.. But it was hopeless..

"Do you think these toes are going to fathom being so disobedient again?" Alexa asked sternly as the toothbrush buzzed into the stem of the pinkie toe on that same foot, her other set of toes subjected to gentle but sadistic scratching from those sharp, painted nails.. Nikki nodded, trying to convey to Alexa that she had learned her lesson and to spare her toes their horrible fate.. And like a switch, Alexa returned to her cheery self and smiled at her prey, halting the toe attack.. "Good! I knew you would understand!~"

Nikki took this opportunity to breathe, though it would not last last long before she resumed her cackling and twisting when Alexa began to nibble into the heel of her former bestie.. Nikki was always a sucker for lickles and nibbles, and while Alexa would rarely oblige, this new incarnation couldn't resist.. "Such sweet feet! They taste like candy..~" She hummed happily, using her nails to stroke the sides of the trapped feet, Nikki babbling into the gag and tearing up.. She couldn't handle this.. There was no way..

Until it stopped..

She thought Alexa was going to move on to the next horrible torture technique.. But.. She didn't.. Alexa sat there and looked at her hands.. What had she become..? Who was she..? This wasn't her this was.. Something else entirely.. Something evil.. She looked up at Nikki, tears in her eyes before she covered her mouth in horror.. "I-I.. I don't.. I can't.." She couldn't speak.. Nikki just starred into her eyes.. Was she back..? Did she break free..? Alexa rushed over and hugged her bound bestie, crying.. Nikki closed her eyes and rested her head upon Alexa's familiar shoulder.. "I'll get you out of here.. Things will go back to normal.. I promise.." She said before rushing over to grab thr keys to the stocks.. Nikki felt a sense of relief.. It was over.. But she had her friend back..

Until..

She stopped in her tracks, hand inches away from the key, before turning back towards Nikki.. That sadistic grin had returned once more.. "Gotcha..~" She cackled maniacally.. And grabbed the hairbrushes next to the keys.. Nikki was crying now.. Tugging as hard as she could.. "Oh sweetie.. I hate to see you cry.." Alexa pouted.. Before slipping a blindfold over Nikki's eyes.. "Much better..~"

Nikki felt as if she was in hell and being punished. And that was before the brushes made contact with her soles, and the screamed ensued.. Unable to see, she could only sit and suffer as Alexa scrubbed.. And scrubbed.. And scrubbed.. She scrubbed her arches.. Her toes.. Her heels.. Every centimeter of foot was subjected to bristly torment..

Up and down the brushes scraped, it felt like hours had passed with every journey the brushes made from heel to toe, every second shattering Nikki's resolve to survive this ordeal.. When the baby oil came into play, Nikki entered a second plane of ticklish agony.. Transcending above what was physically capable of her degree of ticklish suffering, and the person responsible for it was somebody who she loved and cared for so dearly..

After an eternity and a half of agony, Alexa stopped.. Though.. Nikki felt a mysterious substance spread across her soles.. "I have a tea party I'll be dreadfully late for if I keep playing.. But I'll be back later.. The itching gel will keep you entertained for the next several hours..~" She said before grabbing the drooping jaw of her victim.. "Don't be afraid to be driven to madness.. We're all mad here..~" She let go of her chin before an itch started to creep across her soles, the stocks starting to shake, and the last light of the room coming from outside the doorway Alexa Bliss was standing in.. "Let me in.."

Slam..

As the itch took over completely, Nikki tried her hardest to visit her happy place..

---"Oh my god, Nikki! How many times do I need to tell you to stop leaving your socks on top of my luggage! My suitcase isn't a hamper for your dirty clothes! Especially when I'm the responsible one carrying BOTH of our tag titles!" Alexa said firmly, an adorable frown on het face as a pajamad Nikki sat on the hotel bed and rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe I want ye ta do somethin about it, Lexi." She challenged playfully, Alexa raising an eyebrow, hands on her hips. "Are you suggesting that I, the most beloved woman in WWE, former Women's Champion, Money in the Bank winner, former host of WrestleMania and current Women's Tag Team Champion come over there and teach you some manners?"

Nikki smiled and sat criss-cross on the bed.. "Admit it.. Yer scared..~"

Alexa flew across the room and tackled her bestie, a tickle fight of legendary proportions lasting for two hours erupted, both girls losing track of who won and who lost.. It didn't matter.. What mattered was Nikki laying on her back panting and Alexa laying on top of Nikki's chest, exhausted with both sets of hair a mess.. Though Nikki hugged onto Alexa, which caught her off guard at the snuggles.. Before she smiled and hugged back.. "Promise me we'll be friends forever, kay? You crazy weirdo..~" Alexa asked as Nikki smiled and snuggled closer.. "I promise.. Ye short, stubborn little nut.."

"We'll be best friends forever..~"

[harcourtholmesii]

Unintended Purpose (Part I)

Pairings: As Of Yet; Unknown

Warnings: - Swearing - Slavery (Whether Realised Or Not)

Words: 2923

Enjoy!

The first thing he felt was the tickle of fine, soft hairs against the ridge of his nose. He turned his head, scrunching his face in slight annoyance.

 Through his eyelids, the darkness was being slowly washed away with a golden shine. He could feel the absence of a blanket over his right leg, and the chill of the fan as his leg was exposed to the breeze.

 Hank’s eyes opened lazily, revealing oaken locks that spread about the sheets in an odd, dark halo. It was several of those strands that were tickling his face this morning, and his annoyance receded almost immediately.

 Hank propped himself up on one arm, leaning over to press a soft kiss to those locks. He glanced at the alarm clock on her side of the bed; they had slept in. He turned over in the sheets, and stood, stumbling for a moment in the wake of morning nausea. He cracked the bones in his back, muttering about his old bones and aching muscles, before stepping away and across the hall into the bathroom.

 He took a moment to just observe himself in the mirror. His tired eyes, crusted at the corners with tears, and his face framed by growing, silver hair. Renee had told him many times that the white hairs he was so self-conscious about made him appear the silver fox. Even now, Hank tried to shrug the thoughts of his age behind him, picking up the razor and contemplating for a moment.

 He could feel the itch as fine bristles of his beard had started growing in. Renee hated feeling them scratch her skin whenever they kissed. It made him look older, according to her. The hair appeared refined but the beard was too much. Hank never questioned her judgement, as his own thoughts on fashion or his appearance were lackluster at best. Comfort was his primary concern followed closely by how motivated he was to get a haircut or shave his face.

 He tossed the razor aside, beginning his morning routine. Brush teeth, use the can, and then have a shower. He picked up the pace this morning, if only because they were all due to be late to their appointment. He kicked a plastic, toy boat out of the tub as he turned the broiling water on. He needed to speak to Cole about leaving his toys about.

 Once he was as clean as he cared to be, Hank dressed himself in one of his cleaner shirts and pairs of pants for the day. The shirt was a bright blue with obnoxious, yellow lines painted vertically across it. His wife called it ‘ugly’. He called it ‘nostalgic’.

 Once he was dressed, he stepped around the bed and pressed another kiss to Renee’s head. One hand swatted at him sleepily, almost playfully. He just smiled, turning to leave the room and go wake up the little tyrant instead. She must have returned home late from the trip, if she was this exhausted. He’d let her sleep and attend the appointment with Cole.

 Across the hall, Hank opened the door to reveal his little boy. Soon to be turning six years old, Cole had received an early birthday present. He was certain he had told Cole to leave the puppy in the laundry overnight, but he had clearly been ignored.

 Sumo, as Cole had named him, raised his little head from Cole’s chest, and had begun wagging his tail when Hank entered the room. Hank tried his best to shush the little pup, but the tiny thing had started yapping and bounding over to him and leaping up at his knees. It was enough to wake Cole, who rubbed his eyes and beamed up at Hank. Soon, Hank was toppled over by both a bundle of fur and Cole’s combined weight.

 ‘Mornin’ Cole.’ He laughed, rubbing a hand roughly through his son’s hair. There was a giggle, something that warmed Hank’s chest.

 ‘Morning Dad!’

 ‘Sh-sh!’ Hank raised a finger to his lips, hoping to quiet them all down before they woke Renee. ‘Mom’s still sleepin’.’ He sat up, gently resting Cole awkwardly on his knee and trying to push the tiny St Bernard off. ‘Get dressed, and we’ll pick up some breakfast on the way.’

 Cole nodded, excitedly running to his closet and throwing his clothes hurriedly onto his bed. Hank retreated from the room and headed to the kitchen, looking about for the big bag of dried food. He found it beneath the kitchen sink, and filled the bowl up with one and then an extra cup of food. Sumo had buried his snout in before Hank had a chance to tell him to ‘sit’.

 A few minutes later, and he had Cole in his arms, tussling with him all the way to the car. He had picked him up in his arms, feeling the groan of his old bones, as he began to tickle and then chase Cole to the backseat of the car.

 The air outside was cold, an early Winter on the horizon. The sun shone rays of gold through the still red and yellow treetops. A bit of ice caught Hank, causing him to slip for a moment, and he was thankful not to hear a rip in his jeans. Cole just laughed as he pulled himself up and into the backseat.

 They peeled out of the driveway with an apologetic wave at Sumo; the puppy having climbed the couch to see out the lounge-room window. They would try and make it quick. Hank hated seeing those wide eyes. It made him feel like a fucking criminal.

 Cole peered out the window the whole drive, sometimes pointing out the occasional android on the street with their owners. He seemed so excited. Hank, whilst delighted Cole was as happy as Renee to get a new addition to the family, felt some bitterness growing in a pit in his stomach.

 He never much liked the concept of owning an android. Sure, they were made of plastic, synthetic skin and wiring, but they looked too close to humans for his comfort. Perhaps, if they looked more like robots then people, he would be less creeped out by them. To him, it felt like they were buying a slave, not a helpful instrument or device.

 Renee had insisted though.

 Since her job paid well, and both she and Hank were often faced with conflicting schedules, they didn’t wish to leave Cole alone through the day. Having someone clean the house and look after Cole gave both her and Hank more freedom to spend time together and work. But it frustrated Hank; wasn’t the point to spend more time with Cole and not have an android look after him 24/7?

 Hank and Renee didn’t often agree, but they made it work. He loved her, dearly, but sometimes, he felt her head was too focussed on her job rather than their son. He usually felt like a hypocrite after he had these thoughts. After all, as a police officer, Hank was constantly busy with reports and constant action out on the streets. Cole admired him for it, but Hank hated that he often had to work late.

 It was why he had taken the week off to buy the new android and spend that time with Cole before his birthday.

 He had hoped Renee would do the same.

 He nearly missed the turn into the shopping mall parking lot. He parked; his grey, busted car stuck out like a sore thumb between the newer and sleeker designs. He helped Cole out of the seatbelt and hurried after the boy as he tore excitedly across parking lot and into the mall entrance.

 Hank caught up to him, near chastising him for running off when Cole pulled him eagerly by the hand into the large CyberLife store. It reminded Hank of an Apple store before the company had all but become extinct. Sleek white walls, monitors filled with advertisements of the newest models and people milling about, asking what each model was capable of.

 He felt a shudder roll up his spine as he looked about the store. Androids of all types stood up high on pedestals, hands at their sides or behind their backs with their eyes forward. Along the back wall were glass cabinets filled with the odd components, and ones that were spare of shelves instead contained the newest models. The ones in the cabinets smiled and waved and posed, like they were modelling their likeness and functions to the world.

 Cole had rushed off to explore, taking a keen interest in the ones at the back; they smiled at him through their glass enclosures. He waved right back at them, his giddiness kept Hank from peeling back out of the store’s front door in discomfort. He hated these stores, hated anything really that had to do with technology, but he despised the ‘stock’, so to speak.

 ‘Can I help you today, sir?’ A chipper voice spoke to him, and Hank turned his head, swallowing thickly at the appearance of a female android. She smiled brightly up at him, her LED a bright blue and Hank couldn’t help but stare at it. He needed to remind himself that this was an android; not a person.

 ‘Uh, yeah… Cole!’ With that, his son was at his side in a moment, looking up at the android with wide eyes. She beamed down at him and tilted her head in an odd mimicry of human behaviour.

 ‘We’re here to get an android. We didn’t know where to start, so we had an appointment made. ‘Anderson’, and I think Renee put it under her name.’ The LED’s little ring turned a bright, neon yellow, and Hank watched as its eyes almost flickered. The LED returned to its usual blue.

 ‘Ah, of course, Mister Hank Anderson. If you would like to take a seat, we can discuss what model may be best suited to your needs.’ The android gestured to some plastic, rounded seats across the way with a desk between them and a computer. Hank was pretty sure it was more for aesthetic purposes or the owner’s use, rather than the android staff.

 Cole and he took a seat, Cole immediately taking a small, holographic picture book and beginning to drag his finger across its surface like a stylus. He watched as the android on the cover had its uniform change from white to red and then to orange as Cole decided what colours he liked best.

 ‘So, Mister Anderson, let us start with exactly what price you are looking for. What is your price range?’ Straight to business. Hank hummed a moment, glancing about the models in the store and at their prices. The prices of androids had gone down over the years as they became more and more commonplace, but that didn’t mean the number was one to scoff at.

 ‘At most… Uh… Four thousand, I guess.’ The LED switched to yellow and blinked almost immediately back to blue. The android hummed, once more a mimicry of human behaviour. Hank didn’t appreciate it much.

 ‘That does, indeed, narrow most options down, I am afraid. The cheapest model would be the AX400, but most of those have been handed down and not in the best condition. However…’ She retrieved a holographic magazine from beneath the desk and offered it to him. She skimmed the ‘pages’ with her finger until halting on one with a selection of different android types. There were no images on this page to accompany the prices, but she pointed to each one in turn.

 ‘The PL600’s price is on the decline recently. It has all the usual capabilities of most home assistant androids, including the ability to perform all home maintenance tasks, help with school work from Primary through to High school and speak up to 150 different languages, as needed.’

 Hank didn’t really know what to think.

 ‘Or, you have the MP500. Part of our newest stock, but they have further limitations to allow for a cheaper price. They start at $2999.’ Hank whistled, as if acting impressed. He wasn’t. Honestly, hearing this android advertise and sell off their own was giving him a headache.

 ‘Can you just show us what models you mean first? I’m not gonna pay for anything unless he agrees with it.’ Cole looked up from the colouring book and grinned, peering about the room. His eyes landed on the glass cabinets at the back once more and he pointed at them, tugging on Hank’s sleeve. The android smiled and followed behind the two of them as Hank was pulled out of his seat and to the back of the store.

 ‘What about that one?’ Cole pointed out one blonde, male-looking android, marked with the PL600 badge. Beneath the badge, the name ‘Simon’ was printed there. He showed his teeth through his smile, crouching down and pressing his hand to the glass. Cole pressed his hand right back and grinned.

 ‘Simon has already been reserved I am afraid.’ Cole pouted, and ‘Simon’ mirrored the action, returning to stand once more. ‘We have one of the same model, the PL600 as I mentioned, that is in the back? His name is Daniel, if you would like to meet him.’

 ‘What’s that one?’ Cole was once more moving across the room and to another android behind glass. Hank was thankful Cole was at least asking about the ones in their price range, even if the android assistant had given them the details on these models previously.

 The AX400 smiled down at him but didn’t stoop to talk with him. Cole looked up at the female android, and she rested her palm against the glass as well. She didn’t stoop down like Simon did, but her smile grew wider. Hank noticed Cole seemed a little disappointed, and Hank just hurried him along. He ignored the look of almost disappointment in the AX400’s eyes.

 Then, Cole stopped, and pointed to the corner of the store. It was a corner cabinet, a little more cramped then the others. Hank wasn’t sure what to think of this one. It seemed much like the other androids, but its appearance was off somehow. Unlike the others that moved in their cabinets and showed themselves off, this one stood almost at attention, like the many models on pedestals.

 When Cole approached it, brown eyes lowered to watch him. They flicked back up to Hank, back to Cole and then back to staring ahead. The assistant android looked over the cabinet, and, once more, took a second to process the inquiry, as silent as it was.

 ‘This android was not originally intended to be a model for public use. It failed its original test, and had the necessary programs downloaded for housework. Unlike other models, this RK800 was not designed to integrate with a family or a household setting.’ Cole had stepped up to the glass once more, and once again, his hand rested on the glass.

 Those brown eyes lowered and stared at him. The male android tilted its head in response, as though attempting to contemplate such a foreign concept. Cole tilted his head to mirror him and smiled. The android didn’t smile, but it tilted its head the other way. It reminded Hank of a puppy.

 ‘This RK800 is due to be taken off the market and terminated. It is currently sitting at $450, due to its previous failed tests. I would not recommend such a model, as it may be a bit unpredictable in how it behaves. It hasn’t had the necessary home assistant program installed since the start, so it may revert back to its previous function.’

 ‘And what function is that?’ Hank huffed, blowing some silver strands out of his face. He was not exactly impressed if such an unstable model was being sold to the general public, and had a moment of wondering about its legality before the assistant android spoke up.

 ‘Originally, the RK800 was built to be a police detective, and-’ Cole didn’t let her finish.

 ‘That one!’

 ‘Now Cole, I’m not sure mom would much like this choice. It is not exactly stable, and wasn’t even what we were after.’ Hank offered, crouching down to Cole’s level. He rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder, watching as those hazel eyes pleaded with him to reconsider.

 ‘But he’s like you, dad!’ Hank sighed. Of course that was what Cole had focussed on. ‘He was a police officer, like you are! I want him!’ Hank turned his gaze from Cole back up to the android. Beneath the model badge, was its name; ‘Connor’. Doe like eyes turned from Cole to Hank; his face was a soft one but it held a distant expression, unlike the other androids in the store. He turned his head, watching as one stepped off a pedestal and its features transitioned from distant to kind. He didn’t think it would be the same thing.

 He sighed.

 ‘Where do I sign for it?’

 Cole hugged him tightly, and the android assistant smiled. It seemed a little strained somehow. The android, ‘Connor’, didn’t move. Didn’t even blink when his payment went through. He stepped out of the cabinet as the glass slid away, took one step and spoke.

 ‘Hank and Cole Anderson. I’m the RK800 android as made by CyberLife. Intended purpose; a failure. New purpose; home assistance. May my work be satisfactory to you both.’

 Hank hated this already.

((I don’t know why, but I fell in love with the concept of Detroit: Become Human the moment I played its first sequence. I felt the need to write this out, but I swear, I am not trying to forget other stories I am in the process of writing! I intend to get back to them!))

[retphienix]

Digging my 360 out is always a weird blast from the past for me, especially if I hook it up to an ethernet and look at more stuff (I recall getting really emotional over a lost family member's account still being there the last time I did this, I won't this time I promise).

Instead I just wanted to point at some of what shows up on My Games tab because it's a fun mix of good memories and things I don't recall at all.

Beat Hazard, played a bunch of songs on that.

My nerd ass getting all the achievements on Fallout 3 and NV because I was obsessed.

GAME ROOM existing, oof.

Hitman Absolution was my first hitman game if you don't count a handful of minutes at a relatives! I LIKED it! What the FUCK! lol I'm glad I liked it, but I honest to god could not go back to it today, I'm certain of that.

Maxed cheevos on I Am Alive- a game most don't respect at all but I really enjoyed it at the time- it came out when I was obsessed with post apocalypse stuff so it scratched that itch at just the right time.

I Made A Game With Zombies in it is a MASTERPIECE of a game, highly recommend looking up a playthrough for the music alone.

Iron Brigade is actually a game I've brought up before! For good reason! It's a game I love wholeheartedly and I think to date it is the only game I became THAT invested in the COMMUNITY side of things.

And what a unique experience that was.

Picture a game, right. You love it, it is niche as heck and you love it. The game has an official forum and pretty much no other place on the internet- so the forum is active! The devs are there! The best of the best and the most obsessed are there!

Now picture my nerd ass diving in, making an ass of myself, becoming at least recognized by a great portion of them, receiving a gift from the DEVS THEMSELVES, building the wikia with them, writing guides with them, stupidly turning down the opportunity to be involved in world first perfect runs with them (what the fuck was my problem) building broken strats with them-

I was incredibly active on the community side for that game, I miss that dearly. I really should take such a big commitment step again for the next niche game I enjoy :)

Enough about IB.

I went and maxed out Minecraft on 360 for some reason? What a bizarre thing to do. I'm pretty sure the achievements were stupid as hell (I ain't checking) and I don't recall really "playing" much? But that's also the biggest platform I ever played minecraft on? Oof.

Monday Night Combat, that was a fun game during its time.

Maxed out oblivion- fun story on that one.

Oblivion was one of those few games that I was hyped beyond words before release. I would watch the trailer again and again, I'd talk with friends and family about it nonstop, I recall going on and on about being able to choose how you used weapons, dual wield, one hand, two handed, magic, bow- I was blown away by the concept.

I did a similar bit of "gushing about basic mechanics" with Halo 1 to parental figures, that was fun.

But anyway- I was hyped for Oblivion, and I got all the achievements as you can see- but to this day I have not actually done much in Oblivion lol.

Little kid me was new to the entire concept of an open world RPG!

Little kid me JUST followed the quest markers and ONLY for the main quests and guild quests!

Little kid me did NOTHING in Oblivion! lol

So I have all these hours in it, I went and did a lot of the traditional Oblivion things like making a 100 chameleon armor set with duped sigil eyes or whatever but I haven't actually "just played" Oblivion, outside of stealing, I did a lot of stealing. But side content? Nope.

OH HECK YEAH PAYDAY 2!

I played Payday 2 on 360!

For those who don't know, PD2 on 360 is the OLD version, the OG skill system and the like. It's kind of a train wreck, but I played it nonstop for like a week? Maybe just a weekend? I recall telling my cousin to get it and then I don't remember us actually ever playing? I played with some friends, then by myself, then quit.

Fast forward and I buy it on PS4 and play it TOO MUCH then buy it on PC and play it TOO MUCH lol.

Oh, Rainbow Six Vegas is in the mix. Vegas and Vegas 2 were extremely fun IN THEIR TIME. I'd revisit them with a friend I'd bet, but the liklihood of that is kinda low.

You could use the 360 camera to add yourself to the game which was sick, and I'll never forget that sniper rifles could pinpoint blind fire due to an oversight. If you went against a wall (it's a cover shooter) and clicked in the zoom toggle for a sniper you would "zoom" your blind fire reticle which actually made the sniper go from "blind fire inaccurate" to "pinpoint directly on the reticle accurate" so snipers were busted lol.

If my reckless ramble wasn't a hint at what I'm about to say at the beginning: The 360 was the true height of my gaming history. It was the console I played as a teen which is to say it was the console I had infinite time and resources to pour into, and pour into I did.

Even today I don't just sit around playing games nonstop, sometimes I wish I would, but it just doesn't "fit" anymore- but kid me? He loved that shit.

So when it comes to stories I have about games, most of them are about the 360 which means a lot of them aren't really the most entertaining to share I think?

Most people want to hear about classic game stuff, or modern game stories- but I have all this weird and out of place knowledge about what it was like being obsessed with games on the 360- an experience a lot of people my age also have so, again, they aren't interested in hearing :P