#gah it feels good to write something

[sysig]

Totally unaffected by this gesture of affection, definitely (Patreon)

[loverboybrightsideghost]

so has anyone checked rusty quill's youtube lately

[absolutepokemontrash]

I’m just imagining MC trying to curb the brothers’ more dangerous sinful urges, both for their own good and the good of the people around them, but it doesn’t always work out, and MC needs to settle for small victories.

Mammon: Gah! Human! It’s in my DNA! I’m hardwired to want things! I’m the demon of greed dammit! I want to steal!

MC: No! No theft!

Mammon: Not even one bit of grand larceny? ONE jewellery store???

MC: NO!

Mammon: MC-

MC: OH FOR THE LOVE OF- go rob that fucking vending machine to get the urges out! Shoo! Shoo!

Mammon: *grumbles on the way to shake the shit out of a vending machine*

——————

MC: So this is called Chess Boxing, you can stimulate your brain in between giving it blunt force trauma, and inflicting it on your opponent!

Satan: I don’t know, MC… I’m not sure if I’ll like i-

*elapsed time: 3 minutes*

Satan, covered in blood, both his own, and otherwise: WOOOOO! CHECKMATE, YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKER!

Random wrath demon, on the floor: *shaky thumbs up*

—————

MC: This is called competetive eating, Beel.

Beelzebub: So I need to eat all of these humans eating those tacos before the timer runs out. I don’t know, MC, that sounds easy.

MC: Beel- no- you’re eating the tacos. It’s a competition to see who can eat more food, not people.

Beelzebub: Ohhhhh, that sounds much better! :3

————

MC: So instead of being such a dick-

Lucifer: You love it.

MC: Shut up. Anyway, instead of being such a dick, you can channel your pride into other things, like putting your brothers’ report cards up on the fridge!

Lucifer: MC, I would do that if they got anything worth being proud of.

MC: Maybe you can be proud of yourself for investing in a fucking tutor then, Ms Trunchbull.

————

MC: Belphie- Belphie wake up, we need to find something more sustainable to channel your sloth into.

Belphie: *snore*

MC: …you are a drain on my mental energy.

*MC is immediately swatted by Belphie’s tail*

————

MC: Hey Asmo, you know those incredibly detailed dirty roleplay stories you text me on a regular basis?

Asmo: How could I forget~?

MC: Yeah yeah yeah, so do you want to stop traumatizing me with those and go write a dark romance novel that’ll make some booktok girlie scream over?

Asmo: Oooooo… tempting~!

————

MC: Hey Levi, why don’t we envy something attainable so you have something to work towards? Like showering more!

Leviathan: What..? What’s this all about??

MC: I’m just trying to help you grow beyond constantly feeling envy to everyone around you, because you’re pretty great, Levi!

MC: And you can start showing the world you’re great by showering more!

Leviathan: MC, I don’t know…

MC: Watch, you can envy how much I don’t stink! Levi, please, you smell like moldy Monster Energy…

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Can you pretty please write a fic where Logan and Deadpool are having an argument about how they should be fucking the reader, like going over techniques while the reader is just drooling and mindless like “whaaa”

hell YEAH i love getting fucked stupid by big strong men >:3333€

this is a rly good prompt btw so i could GLADLY expand on this but for rn here’s a snippet 😌

warning: dp, painal, sadomasochism, mild transphobia, slurs, degradation, overstim, dubcon, daddy kink

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/bussy

They talk about you like you’re not even there.

Well, physically you were right there with them. Mentally you were nowhere to be found, certainly not on their conversational level. Wade had been bouncing you in his lap for god knows how long. His cock in your cunt had thoroughly fucked your train of thought off the tracks. Your internal monologue was nothing but bitchy whimpers and primal burning for more. Welp. What do you expect? Back to back orgasms will do to that to you. You couldn’t even recall how the argument started, and context would’ve really been helpful.

“Wow! Okay! That’s a shitty thing to say to our guest! Wanna apologize and maybe try that one again, JK Rowling?”

"Oh, get fucked. That's not what I meant and you know it." Logan kept his firm hands on your shoulders, assisting your bounce, since your legs were damn near liquified.

“Mmmmm, ah, gah-fuuuck… Wh... Wha? Huh?”

“How is that not what you meant?" Wade, questioned, maintaining his steel grip on your ass. He felt that he had to protect you from the big bad wolf and his transphobia. "You just said he’s not a real man because he has a pussy. A tight, sweet, JUICY pussy that feels like a fleshlight full of microwaved angel dust. And yet SOMEHOW this makes him not a real man to you? Maybe you’re just not man enough for HIM, sugar-tits!”

"I said you gotta fuck him like a real man. You’re being too good to him. It's gonna fuel his ego, and I’m not letting you turn him into a spoiled brat. Fuck him in the ass, that'll teach him a lesson. Show him this shit ain't a joke."

"No way! Ass is ass is ass is ass. Everybody's got an asshole, peanut, and newsflash? They all feel the same. But this boy's pussy? This hot buttery premium A5 wagyu bussy that's—SQUEEZINGmyfuckingdicksotight, oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, angel baby, sweet boy, you feel so GOOD! Making your Daddy feel so good, good boy!"

Praise was easy enough to process. It didn't require any cognitive effort on your part. You didn't have to weigh in and have an opinion, you just have to take it, and be grateful for it. "Hah, fuck! Thank—thank you, Daddy! FUCK! Wade! WadeWadeWadeWade—WADE! WadeWadeWade..."

But Logan wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious. Make him take it up the ass, or I will."

“Un-be-lievable. You know something? You must be the one guy in this universe who could see a whimsical forest path that leads to a magical unicorn fountain, and says 'Oh, no, none for me. Let me go spelunking in the poop-chute, thank you very much!' And if that's not the single gayest thing I've seen in my entire—"

"WADE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"Eeep!"

Oh, you poor thing. He nearly gave you a heart attack! It's terrifying when someone yells out of nowhere, especially when that someone has you naked and vulnerable in their hands. Logan had slammed you down on Wade's cock when he yelled, completely stopping the scene and trapping you between them. Woah. Time out. Shit has officially just gotten real. You and Wade held bated breath, and traded a glance that said "We're cooked. Nice knowing ya."

But Logan just laughed at you both. Delighted by the atmospheric tension he had just created.

"Heh... heh heh heh..."

Then he relaxed his grip on you, and those big strong calloused man hands started to explore. They massaged your shoulders, rubbed your neck and jaw, and groped and squeezed wherever they pleased. All the while, his hot breath, tinted with whiskey and malice, ghosted over the shell of your ear as he talked. He spoke very firmly. Targeted. Slow. He wanted you to get every fucking word.

"Listen, bub. I’m not about to question whether or not you’re a man, okay? But I’ll say this. When real men wanna take cock? It hurts. Oh, it hurts real bad. And most of ‘em don’t get the luxury of a cushy little cunt that’s meant to take a pounding. No, son. Real men get ripped apart by cock. It makes them cry and scream and sometimes their tiny little rims even bleed because of it. And you know what? They love it. They love how much it hurts them. Cause they’re men. Strong men. And you’re no fuckin’ better than them, you know that? You think just cause you got another hole that you can take the easy way out? Everything's gonna be peaches and cream, huh? Nuh uh. Not on my watch, you little shit. You wanna act like you're such a fag? Well then you’re getting fucked like one of us too."

…

…

…

“Jesus fucking Christ, babycakes, if you don’t want him up your ass I’ll GLADLY take the heat for you.”

[luveline]

Gah, your Peter Parker leaves me sighing in the best way every time! If you feel like it, could you write a little blurb of him melting from fondness when reader gets bashful following him doing/saying something soft? It’s so sweet, seeing two people mutually melt around and because of each other. Even when it’s the smallest thing, it means so much more when it’s from one of YOUR important people.

ty for your request! <3 fem

Fuck, Peter Parker thinks, jogging up the steps to your apartment building, this is the life. It’s a hot day in New York City but there are cold drinks to be had and that electric fan in your bedroom is calling his name. There’s genuinely no better place to be than laying on your sheets in pyjamas you wash with that apple blossom laundry softener he loves, knowing you keep using it ‘cos you love it, and knowing you wash his pyjamas because you love him. 

Spidering is going well, he saved a kid today who nearly got crushed by a ten tonner, so he’s feeling pretty good about himself, or at least feeling good about his decisions. He made Aunt May lunch and took it down to the hospital, he flirted gently with the older nurses, and now he’s gunning up the stairs to your apartment, every step a crinkle. 

Your door is wide open (awful) but you have good reason —the floors and the countertops shine. The windows are open, and the room is fragrant with your oil diffuser. You’re on your knees by the TV wiping down the table with a damp rag in loose-fitting clothes, sleeves pushed up, brows puckered. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. 

“Peter, I’m not talking to you today.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You know how many pairs of your socks I found when I was cleaning today?” 

He grimaces. “Two?” 

“Nine pairs of socks, Peter.” 

He puts the flowers he’s brought you down on the coffee table and his back on the floor. He’d been hoping to do a grand unveiling of the bouquet to surprise you, but he feels terrible. “I don’t even know how that happens,” he mumbles dejectedly, kneeling down behind you, his arms threading in front of your tummy to give you a backwards squeeze. “They just disappear.” 

“They don’t, evidently.” 

“I’m really sorry.” He kisses your cheek. “I’m genuinely really sorry. That’s sloppy. I’m not a kid.” 

“No, you’re not… I’m not that mad though, you don’t have to sound so serious.” 

He holds the place just under your breastbone in his hands. “Oh, you’re not?” He tugs you to his front to stop you from moving prematurely and reaches blindly behind him for the flowers. You laugh as he tips back, taking you with him, the sound vibrating through you and into him. “That’s good. Don’t need these then, do we?” 

He twirls the bouquet, pressing it carefully to your chest. 

You immediately relax in his arms. He treasures that feeling, your weight leaning against him, your cheek listing down into his arm. You raise a hand, his arm trapped in the crook of your elbow as you examine the lilac petal of a sweetpea. “I love these ones.” 

“I know.” 

You take more time than anyone else would sifting through the flowers of the bouquet, breath the only evidence of your delight. You breathe out slowly whenever one of the flowers is particularly beautiful, and then you hug the bunch to your nose for a mild sniff. 

“Thank you.” 

Peter kisses your cheek. He savours the feeling of it, your skin under his lips, being that close to you, his hair on your forehead and your eyebrow tickling him as he hugs you just that little bit closer. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs, affection in every word, and a little drop of shyness too, “I was thinking of you, and they looked healthy for once, considering they’re off of the corner by Mandy’s.” 

“They’re so pretty,” you mumble, turning into him as much as you can. He lets up his tight hold. 

“Like you.” 

You brush your forehead against his chin. Peter actually gets goosebumps, letting the flowers fall to the floor by your leg so he can hold you. “I feel bad for caring about the socks now,” you mumble. 

He laughs with lips still closed and offers you a soft kiss. 

[deerspherestudios]

AAAA I’m always too shy to come off anon, but because I don’t have to for the moment, I just wanted to say that I love Mushroom Oasis so much!!!! Mycheal is just such a well fleshed out character - he isn’t the embodiment of a trope or presented as solely good or evil, but is both consistent and contradictory in a way that feels (ironically) very human. He is shown to act in accordance with a deeper set of core values rather than just the surface level opinions or feelings which might present themselves more obviously. He also has multiple of these core values that inform his decisions, which is shown very well in how he fights with himself and comes to conclusions in order to remedy those internal (and external) conflicts. He lies, he’s aware and unaware of certain aspects of himself, and he responds differently based on his current state but is always loyal to his underlying motivations and character traits. He’s good at certain things and bad at others, even within the same field, but has core strengths that inform these proficiencies. It’s hard to describe in words what all I’m referring to, but if I had to summarize it: Mycheal has a set of core, largely static values and capabilities shaped by his experiences that inform all of his decisions and behaviors. He also has temporary states of being, informed by his interpretations of past experiences and core values. You are able to keep these core values stable (while changing them, which is even harder to accomplish convincingly) as he responds differently to different situations, which is something I don’t think I see often in most characters. Mycheal is just so layered and his complexity is written beautifully!

Hopefully at least some of that made sense akdjdjs - ultimately, I just wanted to share the sentiment that your writing is phenomenal and that I explode every time I think of your mushroom man! He is beautiful both as a specimen for character study and as an individual to simp for, so thank you for sharing him with the world!

A shorter, but no less earnest, comment on Astronought: I ADORE how subversive it is! I never thought I’d see a VN where the love interest turned out to be multiple entities. Well. Kind of?They’re a Hivemind, so they’re only multiple entities in a sense. Gah, Atom is so cool! I can’t wait to hear more about them, even if only in asks every once in a while.

Genuinely, thank you so much for sharing your games with the community - I think I speak for all of us when I say that I really, really enjoy them. Have a wonderful rest of your day :)

Anon where are yuo anon come off anon so i can hold ur hand and thank you peersonally anon

Also, as I double check the queue I just realized today (22nd Feb) is the 2nd year anniversary for Mushroom Oasis!! So it's only fitting that it's my turn to thank the community alongside this person, for being here as I continue working on this project!

You're all wonderful people and I can't express enough how much the support means to me! ❤️🍄🎉

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀: Threesome w/ Spencer Reid [ft. Elle Greenaway]

a/n: OKAYYY this is my first time writing for elle so please have mercy on me!! this fic is unbelievably dirty and i disappeared into my hole a time or two before finishing it, so enjoy!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

She’s watching, she’s always watching.

Spencer’s eating you out with abandon with his eyes squeezed shut, though his naked lower half is grinding desperately against the hotel bed sheets below him.

You can’t find it within yourself to warn him, to tell him that Elle hadn’t given him permission to get himself off just yet.

You were only supposed to be exchanging ideas about the case together in her hotel room, but this… this is just something that the three of you do sometimes, but never, ever during a case.

You can tell that she was frustrated as she looked between you and the boy genius that screamed the need for control, because she didn’t like being clueless, didn’t like not being able to step in when she wanted. So, why not control the two people who are more than willing to have sex with each other?

One of Spencer’s long, veiny hands were intertwined with yours, the other two fingers deep and scraping against your g-spot.

“Mmf – gah!” You cried out, back arching.

“Spencer.” Elle says in warning, her eyes locked on where his hips are gyrating on the bed. 

Spencer’s mouth disconnects from you, and he rests his cheek on the inside of your full thigh, huffing and desperately trying to take in air. His fingers don’t stop moving, but he squeezes his eyes closed in an attempt to stop him.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry. ‘M just so hard…” His words trail off into a whine and you take pity on him, threading your fingers through his hair in support.

Elle watches for a moment before it looks like she makes a decision.

“Get up. She’s gonna ride you.”

Your body heats up at the fact that she’s talking about you like you aren’t there, but Spencer is quick to slip out of your hold, the man being sweet enough to grip you by your hands to help rearrange both of your bodies until you’re sat on top of him.

You grip his cock, eager to sit down on him before Elle goes, “Stop.”

You freeze and throw a desperate eye over your shoulder.

She’s stripping herself out of her t-shirt and jeans, leaving behind her matching black lace set. If you didn’t know her any better, you would think that she planned this. That’s the thing about your dom, she was always such a wild card.

“I’m gonna guide you and set the pace, and if you go any faster than I told you two, you both aren’t cumming at all.”

Your eyes quickly find Spencer’s and the look that you send him is pleading, because you know how needy he gets when he’s wired up, and the both of you have been edged for the past hour; you were to be eaten out without orgasming, and that went the same for him.

“Yes, Mistress.” Was Spence’s breathless reply, and you sent him a small, thankful smile.

She clambers onto the bed, a beautifully manicured hand landing on your hand, the other gripping Spencer’s dick cruelly. 

A loud whimper resonates around the room, and you trail your hands down his soft yet lean chest, a soothing gesture. She slowly lowers your body down onto him, his hardness breaching your entrance. 

You can feel every pulsing vein and ridge as he finally bottoms out, a long moan forces its way from your throat. Elle trails her lips up the side of your neck, and her other hand holds your free hip now, both of them settled on you.

“How does it feel?” She murmurs into the shell of your ear, and you shiver. “Good…” You mewl, back arching, “So good.”

“You hear that, Spence? She thinks you feel good. What do you say?”

“Th…” He gulps. “Thank you.”

She hums. “Good boy.”

Elle lifts your hips up once more and you follow her, the drag slow and merciful and you cry out on when you’re dropped back down, the tip of Spencer’s cock jabbing at your g-spot.

Spencer’s strained moan resounds from below you, his teeth clenched and hands gripping at the fat of your waist, right above hers.

“Move your hips to meet me.” She commands, and he follows.

The pace is wonky at first before a steady rhythm is established. She’s basically making you ride him, and all you could do is take it, head falling forward.

“Mistress, can I kiss him please?” You whine, eyes locked and his.

“Mm.” She hums, teasing for a moment. “Sure.” When she says so, she pushes you down by your shoulder, so you and Spencer are chest-to-chest.

You lock lips, but she sets harder thrusts that steal your breath away, practically punching sounds out of the both of you as you whimper into each other's mouths.

“Are any of you close?” She questions.

You feel Spencer nod, dislodging your kissing. “Yes, yes! ‘M close.”

She calls your name, and you crane your neck the best as you can to look at her. “Are you close?” 

“Yeah.” The words are small and meek but they’re there, and you’re falling so quickly into subspace that all you can do is trust her to get you where you need to be. “Rub her clit, Spence, and when she cums, then you can.”

He’s quick to move, reaching between your squished bodies to rub at your lower half, the woman never stopping the movement between the two of you. 

With every jab at your g-spot mixed with his bony fingers rubbing at you, you feel that familiar tightening of your gut before you call out, “Cumming!” As your warning. 

You rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder as Elle assists the genius with reaching his end with your pussy. You hear a loud, pornographic moan resound throughout the room combined with the sound of wet slapping, before your insides feel warm with his release.

You all stop and pause, both of your chests rising and falling with exertion.

“You guys did so well.” Elle praises, dragging her hand down your spine. “Are you okay?” She asks. “Mhm.” The two of you hum. 

“What about you?” Spencer rumbles from below you. “I’m fine.” She waves away his question.

“This was enough.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[ranhaitanisgf]

Helloo!!! could you write a oneshot about ran dating fem!reader and she is like a total good girl i mean like good grades, a teachers pet and always listents to her parents.

Hope you have a good day you are one of my favourite writers<3<3

little miss rule follower

synopsis: moments w/ ran dating his fem!reader who is a rule follower

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ hiii thank you for requesting!! :3 +thank you for the message you are so sweet !! im so glad you enjoy my writings :D i wanted to include a lot of diff moments w this idea, so i did a little collection of mini oneshots, i hope thats alright ! i hope you all have an amazing and gorgeous and fabulous day & enjoy !! xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ ran haitani x fem!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 1.8k+

masterlist

“y’know, it would’ve been a lot faster if i’d just driven you home, right?” ran suddenly asked, his voice laced with playfulness. “is it just that you want to spend more time with me~?” 

“hm? you know i’m not going to show up at home on the back of a motorbike, ran.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, jokingly trying to pull your hand from his. he frowned at the action, lacing your fingers together and keeping your hand in a firmer grip. 

“you don’t want to be close to me? you don’t want to be able to hold me all you want? maybe even feel my abs-?” 

“no.” 

“...ouch. that one really hurt, sweets.” you giggled at his crestfallen expression, finding it rather cute as he pouted, side eyeing you to see your reaction. his jaw dropped dramatically when he saw your face. “you’re laughing?! wow, this really is a cruel world!” 

“yeah yeah, the world is sooo evil to you, right?” you teased, your sarcasm evident as you laughed at him. 

“yes, it really is!” he exclaimed, letting go of your hand and suddenly wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, putting his full weight on you. “(y/n), you understand, right?!”

“gah! r-ran! get offa me, you’re so heavy!!” you groaned, struggling to hold the both of you up at the same time. “i was joking!! of course i want to…ahh, of course i want to be close with you!!” as soon as those words came out of your mouth, he got off of you, smirking at you with a pleased look in his violet eyes. 

“that’s all i wanted to hear~” he stated, continuing your walk home as if he hadn’t been laying all his weight on you two seconds ago. all you could do was roll your eyes at him, but your smile was still on your face as the two of you continued walking, ran’s hand finding yours again and lacing your fingers together. 

“also…” you suddenly spoke up, “i know it takes longer to get home this way…but i get to spend more time with you��” you trailed off, feeling a bit shy about what you had just admitted. “i mean, i don’t want to be greedy or anything, but it’s nice that we can spend this time just the two of us, since you’re usually pretty busy with your…stuff, and i’m busy with school...” 

when you looked to ran after you finished talking, you were surprised to see the soft smile that was across his lips, his eyes looking at you as if you were the only person on the planet. 

“you can be as greedy as you want, (y/n). hell, i’m probably more greedy than you’ll ever be in your whole lifetime.” he squeezed your hand a bit, pulling you a bit closer to his side as you two kept walking. “if you tell me you want more of my time, i’ll drop anything and everything for you. so, just tell me.” 

“...okay then.” you answered warmly, smiling at him. “also, walk a little slower. your strides are so long it’s hard to keep up with you.” 

“hm? i’m already slowing down for you.” 

“yeah, well, walk slower.” 

“oho, you were serious about wanting to spend more time with me, huh? no problem then, doll~” 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“c’monnn, you know nothing would happen to you, right? i wouldn’t ever let anybody hurt you, (y/n).” 

“i’m not sneaking out to go out with you, ran! we have school tomorrow! why can’t we just do something after school?” you asked, already knowing what ran’s response was going to be. 

“that’s no fun!”

“ohh, so you don’t have fun with me when we go out during the day? wooow, i see how it is, haitani.” you answered, making your voice seem upset. ran was always teasing you, so you could do the same every once in a while, right?

“hey, you know that’s not what i meant.” 

“pff, ‘m joking.” you relented, laughing a bit at the sigh you heard from the speaker on your phone. “sorryyy, forgive me please~?” 

“that was a mean little trick, but i’ll forgive you ‘cause you asked so nicely. you seriously won’t even consider it though?” 

“no! i love you ran, but i also enjoy not being in trouble and i enjoy not breaking the rules. i know you’re not like that, which is fine, but you’ll just have to get over the fact that your girlfriend is unfortunately a stick in the mud.” 

“well, i prefer to use the term ‘good girl’ ‘cause it’s cuter, but it’s okay, i can let it slide. can we go out after school, then?”

“that depends…are you actually going to show up to classes tomorrow?” 

“hey, that hurts! i’ve been showing up to school a lot more lately!”

“and then all you do is pass me notes instead of taking notes.” 

“in my defense, you just said show up, not to actually do anything.”

“please?” 

“...fine, but you’re riding on my motorbike when we go out.”

“as long as you don’t drive me to my house, that’s fine i guess…” 

“don’t worry, you can hold onto me as tight as you want~”

“h-hey!!” 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

you look so beautiful today ♡ can’t wait to see you after school~

you immediately folded up the piece of paper, shifting your notebook to slip it underneath so that nobody could see it. you could already feel ran’s gaze on you, confirming it when you peeked over and made eye contact with his lazy violet eyes, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile. 

you looked back to your teacher in the front of the classroom who was droning on and clearly not paying attention, so you decided it was okay to not pay attention for a little longer. you looked back at ran, who was now making a little finger heart at you and mouthing something. 

“i…love…you.” 

your heart skipped a beat and you could feel your cheeks flushing, which only made ran chuckle a bit as you continued with paying attention to the lesson, (he was satisfied knowing that he had successfully distracted you). 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“(l/n), can you make copies of this printout for tomorrow’s class?” 

“sure!” you chirped, taking the handout from your teacher and glancing over it. “i’ll leave them on your desk when i come back!” 

“thanks, i appreciate it.” you hummed in acknowledgment before leaving the classroom, making your way down to the printer room where the copier was. 

“where’re you goin’~?” the sudden voice in your ear made you jump, though you didn’t do anything more drastic since you recognized it almost immediately, your mind suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be going out with ran right now. 

“ran! ahh, i’m so sorry, just let me do this and then we can go?” he joined you at your side, looking into your pleading eyes for a second before sighing, a bit of a frown on his lips. 

“fiiine, but let’s make it quick. i found a sweets place i think you’d like.” you raised a brow when he continued to follow you to the printer room and he raised a brow back, wondering why you were confused. “you thought i was just gonna leave?” 

“i mean, yeah…this won’t take that long and it’s kinda boring.” 

“sure, but i’m with you, so it doesn’t really matter to me either way.” he responded casually, opening the door to the printer room now that the two of you had arrived. 

“you’re such an idiot, but you’re cute i guess.” you murmured, unsure of how to respond to his words. 

“here’s the part where i get to say, ‘but i’m your idiot’~” you only rolled your eyes, opening the top of the copier and laying the worksheet down flat and closing it. you could feel ran’s presence behind you getting closer, so you weren’t surprised when he rested his head on your shoulder, watching your movements as you input the number of copies to make. 

as the copier began to print out the copies, ran slid his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against his frame. there wasn’t anybody else in the room nor any windows, but you were still a bit anxious that somebody was going to come in and get the wrong idea. 

“ran, someone could walk in.” 

“what? i’m not even doing anything.” he teased, pressing kisses on your shoulder.

“this-! this is something! it’s like super pda!” 

“it’s not like we’re having sex-” 

“okay, stop!! forget i even said anything!!” you interrupted, wiggling out of his embrace to open the top of the copier, grabbing the worksheet you had put there and putting it on top of the stack of copies. “i’m almost done here, so go wait for me outside and i’ll be out in five minutes. bye!” 

before ran could say anything to response you had already sped out of the room, leaving him there chuckling a bit to himself. 

how cute. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“i’m actually not so sure about this anymore.” 

“hm? are you scared?” ran asked. you had thought that it would be worth it to agree to go on his motorbike if he came to class today, but now…you weren’t so sure. 

“are you sure this is safe? there aren't even any seatbelts…!” 

“you don’t trust me, doll?” 

“it’s not you i’m worried about!” you exclaimed, feeling a bit panicked. “what if there’s someone else who’s driving drunk and they hit you! a motorbike versus a car, the car would definitely win! how can you feel so confident riding this thing all the time?! what if something happens to you-?!” 

“hey.” ran suddenly said, taking two long strides to come face to face with you. “it’s okay.” he murmured, cupping your face and carefully smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “nothing has ever happened because i’m always careful. i’m always thinking of you, (y/n). i would never do anything that would threaten my own safety because i know how you would feel if something happened. okay?” 

“...you’re not lying?” 

“could never lie to you.” 

“...okay.” 

“how ‘bout we go get some cake for you, hm?” you nodded, wiping away the tears you hadn’t known you’d shed and feeling a bit ashamed at your sudden outburst over seemingly nothing. 

“‘m sorry.”

“don’t be. i probably give you every reason to worry, so you can let it all out.” 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“you feelin’ better now?” ran asked, an amused smile on his face as he watched you absolutely devour the slice of cake in front of you. you tried to respond but couldn’t, your cheeks full of cake. ran made a motion that told you to finish before speaking, giving you a few moments to finish chewing. 

“yes! sweets fix everything!!” you declared, a big grin on your face. “see, if we had gone out at night this place wouldn’t be open!! isn’t this so much better?” 

“mm, doesn’t really matter to me. as long as you keep smiling like that, pretty~” you coughed at his sudden flirty words, accepting the cup of juice ran offered you and chugging it to get the cake that was stuck in your throat down. 

“s-sorry…” 

“hah, it’s cute how much my words affect you.” 

“shut up.” 

“will do~”

[kursed-curtain]

Liveblogging in the tags? Me? All the time! Let's talky tollbooth ^^

King's Quest Fic: "Paths" (Part 3)

Previous instalments here

Perhaps a single sleep-in morning couldn’t fix everything.

In the three days after coronation, Graham racked up an impressive record as king. First, he managed to shatter an oil lantern in the oldest, yellowest, crispiest part of the castle archive, bursting with looseleaf waiting to be bound. They’d saved most of the stacks. 

He’d written greeting letters to his fellow monarchs, including  the queen of gigantic Serenia, the cloutiest player on the political stage. By some oblivious genius,  he accidentally filled the whole thing with scathing double meanings about their countries’ future relationship, with a postscript that amounted to a casual declaration of war. The uncomfortable scribe had said nothing to Graham, but rushed off to check the letter with Royal Guard Number One. You could have knocked the new king over with a feather when the guard scornfully read the worst passages back to him. 

Twice he groggily (and purely automatically) showed up for his old night shifts, embarrassing everyone. He was late for half the meetings on his agenda. One evening he signed nearly two hundred documents he was supposed to void, before someone stopped him.

But nothing compared with what came to be known in Mannerly Stove in years following as “The King Graham incident.” 

Graham’s century old carriage rolled up the switchbacks. He drummed his listless fingers on the window. He knew at least two shortcuts he could have taken, if only they had let him ride his surefooted Triumph. But his old buddy was not a suitable steed for a king, or so they said. 

He tugged at this collar. The carriage might have been spacious, if his honour guard hadn’t stuffed in with him. Did they think they had to form a defensive perimeter even inside the coach? The air outside was damply hot enough, more like the stillness before the summer storms than a September day. And inside with the five guards? Every inch of armour fogged up like a mirror after a bath. 

“I’m not quite sure what the point of this is - ouch!” His temple struck the window as the carriage lurched wildly onto its two right wheels. The brow of his crown dug bluntly into the same place it dug every time. 

“A little more caution on those sharp turns, Number Two?” the captain called, banging a fist on the ceiling.

“Righty-oh,” came their driver’s muffled voice.

The king groaned. He shoved aside his seatmate, who had toppled right over him. His sharp armour bits were all caught on Graham’s formal black and red outfit. “I mean,” he grunted, righting his crown, “I have been to Mannerly Stove. Every time I’ve been sent on a quest outside the kingdom, in fact. I get my lunch at the Olde Yarblesnoof. I know half the people by sight. Is this visit really necessary?”

Number One fanned himself with his notecards. His voice was flat and already tired. “Sir Graham visited. Sir Graham is not here today. You are Daventry.”

 “Yeah, but, to an ordinary villager -”

The guard’s tone grew sharper. “Ever have the landlord knock on your door up in Llewdor?”

Graham swallowed. It had been a long time. Yet he was astonished how clearly he remembered his mother panicking, plastering on a smile for him and his sisters, rushing them out the backdoor, and telling them to play by the brook or in the woods. Just not near the house. She’d pat her hair and set  her jaw, walking determinedly to the front door. He could not remember what the landlord looked like, except that he was really big. He had to stoop to get in the door. Graham frowned. “Yeah, occasionally.”

“It means a lot to an ordinary villager, wouldn’t you say?”

Graham didn’t answer.

Number One went on, a little less sharp, a little more didactic. “You are about a hundred times all that the landlord is, and more. So today you are going to calm their worries. You’ll smile and mingle, and let them show you whatever they’re proudest of - probably the Tickle Rock. You’ll declare three months’ tax forgiveness, and call for a cask of ale to be opened for the people. And all this will be code for, ‘You’re just as much a part of Daventry as the people down in the valley, Mannerly Stove. I’ll show you I’ll be good to you. You show me you’ll keep my mountain pass open, my only real road in and out clear of snow, catch my brigands, warn me of invaders, ensure food and tools and supplies flow into into my country without trouble, and keep me connected to the outside world.’ So yes, unless you fancy dining only on lavender for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of your reign, we could call it necessary. ”

“But does that also mean - agh!” 

The carriage slammed to an abrupt halt.  Graham and all the guards on his side were thrown into the laps of the guards across the way.  The coach became a writhing tangle of arms, legs, and everyone’s favourite curses. Graham’s boot toe somehow caught on the overhead luggage rack, while his nose wedged in the crook of Number One’s elbow. He thought he heard the captain mutter under his breath, “Really?”Then at the top of his lungs, “Open the door, for pity’s sake!”

Someone found the latch. Half the guards tumbled out in a dust cloud.. Graham could not look anyone in the face as Numbers Three and Five extricated him, and lifted him out of the carriage like a child - into the midst of a throng of chuckling onlookers.

Get it together. Think of lavender for every meal!

Graham stepped away from the guards.  He reached desperately for his dignity, or even just his coaching. Something came to hand. He lifted his chin, clenched his teeth into the most carefree smile in his repertoire, and waved a great big wave at the crowd of a hundred or so. “What’s shakin’, Mannerly Stove?” he shouted cheerily. 

Number One slumped, but the crowd whooped and applauded. Some were still laughing, but that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Imagine if everyone had fallen silent.

A man of great girth, with a pentagonal hat and chain of office round his neck, strode forward importantly. As he stepped closer, Graham recognized him as Hector. He was more or less mayor, but spent most of his time selling artisanal cheeses over the border. Graham had stayed overnight at his house and beat him at hangman, back when King Edward had sent him to defeat a banshee.

Hector’s grin was enormous, but his eyes were humbly downcast as he swept off his hat with a flourish, and sank to one knee. “Majesty,” he boomed. “Here is a day that will not soon be forgotten in our lowly township.”

Graham sighed, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his cuff, and pulled out formality. “The pleasure’s all mine, Lord Mayor. And thank you all,” he said, raising his voice, “for the warm welcome. It’s my honour to continue the strong relationship between the throne and this good village.”

More cheers. Well, that wasn’t too bad. Graham  tried to resist, but he could not help sneaking a peek to see if Number One approved. But by this time, the captain was standing to inscrutable attention in a row with the other guards. 

So they began. Speechlets, bouquets, a whirlwind tour of the town which Graham honestly could have led himself. A headache began as he boiled alive in his expensive outfit, but he soldiered on, oohing and ahhing dutifully.

At last they took him over the crest of the road and down into the mountain pass itself. In the distance, Graham could make out a colourful blur (zards, was his eyesight worse compared to his last visit? No, no, surely not,) which  he knew to be the Serenian flag hanging over a small border fortification on the other side. Halfway between them, close to the mountainside waterfall, stood the first thing Graham did not recognize from before. Something glinting here and there with metal, and painted in red and blue.

“Er, what’s that?” he asked, as Hector led the way, walking backward.

“That,” said Hector with relish, raising his voice to be heard above the crash of the waterfall, “is the  reason we insisted your people schedule your visit for today. We only finished putting it together last night. The pride of Mannerly Stove. This way, sire. Only, keep to the middle of the road. Safer.”

“Safer?” asked Graham, but the crowd was already bustling him down the slope toward the object. As it came into focus, he could make out sandbags, gears, a series of weigh scale bowls suspended from chains, and a long winding slide, about the right size for a marble. But none of the bells and whistles disguised the thing completely.

 “A… tollbooth?”

Number One somehow shot him a pointed look, despite his eyes being disguised beneath his helmet. “A very fine tollbooth, I’m sure.”

“A groundbreaking tollbooth,” said Hector. “Like no one has ever seen before, my king. Let us demonstrate.” 

To Graham’s annoyance, the excited mayor yanked him toward the window by the wrist, where a giggling assistant demanded five shiny gold coins. A scowl escaped him at the price, but Number Three leant over his shoulder and murmured something about how after all, he was really just dropping the money back into his own pocket. She asked whether he were smuggling anything, checked something off a list, and  turned a crank. 

The striped barrier began to rise. There was a  shifting and creaking that didn’t seem to come from the mechanism, but out of the earth itself. Graham could have sworn he saw the pebbles on the road rolling slightly. For a moment, an unnaturally straight crack formed in a portion of the road, swallowing dust. Almost as suddenly it disappeared, and all went still. The barrier stopped, at full height.

“Have a nice trip!” the assistant rattled off. “Just have a word with the Serenians at the checkstop on your way through.”

Graham took a few wary steps over the invisible border, but it all seemed solid enough.  He threw an uncertain glance back at the beaming group. “But I don’t actually, right?”

Hector chuckled. “Better not. We’d give the Serenians a good gossip if we sent the king himself through. On foot. All by himself and unprotected.”

Indignation flared in Graham's chest unexpectedly. He was seized by an impulse to power-walk over the frontier and give the people of Daventry something to gossip about.  All by himself and unprotected, indeed. But he slapped that thought away, and ducked to slip under the re-lowered barrier.

The entire crowd gasped as one. The assistant’s mouth went round as an O, and the mayor waved his hands wildly. “No, no, no!” he cried. “Back up! Back up!”

Graham scooted backward, his black satin cloak billowing round. He instinctively checked the ground, but nothing seemed to be moving.

Hector placed a hand over his heart and  heaved a sigh of relief. “Never,” he said, articulating every syllable, “ever try to pass while the gate is still shut. Or go around it. Or climb over it. There are weight sensitive plates everywhere, and if you did -"

“Raise that gate again,” commanded Number One with a firm nod at the assistant. She hurried to obey. The road began groaning again.

“- if you did,” Hector went on, “the entire border defense system would be triggered. Walls, saws, spikes, you name it. And if something of sufficient weight passes over one of those plates, like a cart, it can even set off two small landslides to block the pass on either side.” 

“Retrieve the king,” said Number One hurriedly.

As the barrier locked into its highest position, Graham’s six guards charged forward. They seized him by the shoulders, and  precisely maneuvered him to the very center of the road. They all but shoved him back to the Daventry side, even as they tiptoed, lightly as possible, on their curly boots. “Excuse me,” Graham growled so the crowd wouldn’t hear. “I am perfectly able to walk.” He dug in his heels before he could collide with Hector.

“Landslides?” Graham said aloud, righting himself and shaking off the guards. “That seems like a lot.”

Hector shook his head and waggled a sensible finger. “Nature’s trap for intruders. You see,  a few months back, we had some trouble with bootleggers sneaking past this stretch of road. The late King Edward gave us a grant to tighten security. This Domino Effect Tollbooth was our most brilliant minds’ answer.”

Graham rubbed his chin stubble. “But I mean, smugglers aren’t limited to this route. You could actually sneak into the valley from any direction, right?”

“But NOT through Mannerly Stove,” proclaimed Hector, thrusting out his chest pompously, as though that settled the question. “But you haven’t seen the really droll part of it yet, sire. You might be thinking that an offender might get through the defenses anyhow. That’s why we installed these.” Hector indicated a row of thin, brass pipes protruding from the underside of the toll booth. “These swing out, and blast the scoundrel with sixteen bright colours of paint! Good luck blending in after that!”

“Wow.” Graham scratched his temple under his crown. “You figure it needs sixteen?”

“Naturally! Two or three colours could just mean housepainting, or an artist having a clumsy day. But the odds of sixteen? I think not. In fact, our designer’s original plan was for two-hundred-and-fifty-six colours, but there wasn’t room in the budget. But,” (his smile broadened again - how was that physically possible?) “if I may make so bold, things have been looking up since you got those treasures back. And we, we have full confidence you’ll make the very best use of them. You see, sire, the taxes your officials have us down for are shockingly heavy for such a small town. It's something I’d hoped we could chat about before you leave - possibly expanding the grant.”

“I see.” Graham couldn’t quite stop a smirk from creeping over his face. “So you can have the two-hundred-and-fifty-six colours.”

Hector bobbed the slightest of bows. “That would be a start.”

The smirk spread as he mirrored the mayor’s bow. “Of course. It’s so… great to know the kingdom’s money would be put to such excellent -”

A  gauntleted hand clapped over the king’s mouth. “Bless you,” said Number One brusquely from behind him. “Just as you say, sire. Great to know security is being taken so seriously.”

Really? In what world did Number One imagine that was subtle? 

Graham spluttered as the guard released him, but before he stepped away Number One poked him sharply between the shoulder blades. Muscle memory kicked in. Graham found himself straightening up and putting his shoulders back, as he always did on the training ground when Number One corrected his posture. Then he turned and glared, meeting the guard’s gaze. He deliberately slumped his shoulders and let himself fall into the easy bow-legged stance Number One was always giving him grief for. Zards; what was even the point of dragging him out here if they were just going to be embarrassed of his existence? Maybe they should just put the crown on Number One’s head and send him round to smile and wave at smug villagers. Stars knew he wouldn’t mind taking it off for a while. The headache was morphing from a gnaw to an ache.

Number One held his gaze. And Graham noticed suddenly that everyone had gone quiet.

Hector laughed nervously. “Perhaps your majesty is tired. The heat of the day, naturally. Maybe…” He glanced at the brook rushing by the wayside, and upward at the roiling foam of the falls. “I know just the thing to cool us all down. There’s a staircase carved into the rock that starts just over there. It leads up to a little cliff about halfway up the waterfall. The view is really spectacular.”

“Great idea!” Graham cut in. Anything to shift focus.

The slate-blue steps cut from the side of the mountain were puddle slick most of the way up, pooling mist into water.. More than once Graham nearly lost his footing and had to grab at the fiery-orange foliage of the bushes that lined the way. The second time, Number Two had to give him a shove to get his center of gravity back. 

“You all right?” he whispered in Graham’s ear.

“I’m managing,” he said, trying to put some pep into it.

But Number Two didn’t pull back just yet. “Don’t think about who’s watching,” he murmured. “Not us, not them. Just think about one day when you’ll be old and stuck in bed all day, and can't climb mountains no more -and have fun with it now. That’s how it’s done.”  He patted Graham lightly on the shoulder. “Sire.”

At length they reached the narrow shelf - Graham, the guards, and Hector, who immediately pointed out that you could see his house from there. In fact, Graham could see all of Mannerly Stove from there, and a good stretch of the kingdom below, decked out in autumn glory. He was fairly sure the shimmering bit of white light was the castle pinnacle. But it was the falls that really stole the show, rushing down in magnificent sheets, and casting up snowy white froth. Graham gratefully stepped into the spray and let it play over his face and hands. He rubbed the cool water into the corners of his eyes. Who cared that his good clothes got a trifle wet? Anyone with an ounce of compassion would give him this. He wondered what temperature the guards had reached in their armour, and whether they were envious.

Hector swept another needless bow. “I thought your majesty might find it refreshing. Now, while we’re up here, it would be a crime not to show you the Tickle Rock. How do you like that?” He pointed a brawny finger toward the cliff’s edge.

Perched near the brink sat the most top-heavy rock Graham had ever seen. As tall as he was, and rather wider than his arm span at the top, it dwindled to a narrow point at its base. He could have wrapped his fingers round the bottom. This, at last,  was something to see.

“Perfectly balanced, as you see,” said Hector, taking a moment to hold his handkerchief under the waterfall and dab at his forehead. “It was the pride of our village long before the tollbooth. So, you see, it can never fall down. It’s been here as long as anyone knows. When the winds blow, it rocks a little, but it goes on standing.”

“And it can never fall down?” Graham asked, genuinely enchanted for the first time since his coronation.

“Never.”

“That’s incredible!”

“Miraculous,” the mayor agreed. He considered a moment, then seized off his hat and held it under the water  to fill it up. “Stars bless us, but it is a hot day,” he muttered. “Yes, miraculous. It can never fall down, because if it did, we’d lose half our fame. Although if you come to think of it, the really miraculous thing, even more so than the Tickle Rock’s perfect balance, is that no idiot has ever climbed up here and given it a good…” He looked up from his hat, and froze. “Sir Graham! No!”

A shining-eyed Graham had closed the gap between himself and the rock. To Hector’s horror, even as the words formed on his lips, Graham raised his hand. Pointed a finger. And poked the stone. 

It wobbled.

“What?” said Graham, glancing back over his shoulder in honest bewilderment. “Didn’t you say it can never fall?”

The rock lurched toward the precipice’s edge.

Hector screamed. The crowd below screamed. Nearly every guard screamed.

Graham’s blood froze, and his stomach turned a cat’s cradle. “No, no, no no no no no!” Without a thought in his head, except that the Tickle Rock must not fall, he clambered to get a hold of it, catching frantically at the air. His arms closed round its sides. He heaved backward, realizing just a moment later that if the stone came with him, it would land on top of him. But it didn’t. It wedged itself on the end of his boot, just a fraction away from his toes.  It tottered - tottered further - and righted itself in his arms.

Oh, gods. Oh, merciful gods. That had been unthinkably close. He heaved a sigh of relief, and could have sworn that sigh echoed through the whole mountain pass.

Then something shifted, and Graham and the rock hurtled over the edge.

He cried out. For a moment someone seemed to be tugging at his cloak, but they must have let go. He pulled his arms free of the rock, and found himself spinning somersaults and cartwheels in freefall. The crown flew off his head.  He reached, reached for something to grab hold of, but nothing met his grip.

Then he thudded into the earth.

The wind was knocked out of him, but his arm raised itself on reflex. With perfect timing, he snatched the crown out of the air. Well, at least he had that.

Five spinning skies resolved into one as he gasped breath back into his lungs. Dizzily, he raised himself on one elbow. He was laid out on his back, mere inches from the shattered chunks of the Tickle Rock. And on the other side of him, the tollbooth.

The ground began to creak and rumble under him.

Graham closed his eyes. “No…”

He launched himself into a roll just as the ground beneath where had been lying fell away. From the breach burst a circular saw, spinning so fast it  screeched. He broke his roll just in time, for an identical saw split the ground and rose from the other side. Earsplitting bells and horns rang out. He staggered to his feet, only for something - a spinning jousting target? - to swing at his head. Throwing himself into the arms of instinct, he ducked and weaved as more and more threats appeared, some from the ground, some on metal fixtures that came out of the tollbooth, some from who could say where. He swerved to avoid a procession of five tremendous wooden mallets, any of which could have sent his head flying like a croquet ball. Finally, a great wall of black iron, lined at the top with vicious spikes, leapt out of the ground, cutting off his escape toward the Serenian side. Graham dashed wildly toward Daventry, even though the spikes of the second wall had already climbed a good three feet. Throwing all his momentum into it, he leapt wildly to clear the wall. But the spinning jousting target snagged his cloak, and threw him back into the middle of the fray. 

He flattened himself against the ground, covering his head with his arms, and waited for something to squish or slice or stretch him. Somewhere, the rumbling grew even louder, until it roared.

Everything stopped.

He waited, then waited longer. But nothing more came. Slow as molasses in winter, he got to his feet and looked around. The saws were still, the mallets had fallen to the ground, inert, and the walls, while very much standing, seemed to have reached their full height.

He tilted his head back to look up at the cliff. Only Hector remained by the waterfall. His eyes goggled out of his  head, but he said nothing. The guards were nowhere in sight, though he thought maybe he could just make out Number One’s voice raised above the crash of the water. “Pockets!” 

“I’m -” His voice sounded weak and hoarse, and not nearly loud enough to carry. He tried again, a bit louder.  “I’m here, Number One! I -  think it’s all over.”

A blast of neon yellow splashed violently into his face.

He shut his eyes just in time. The paints soaked him with such force it was hard to keep his balance. He gritted his teeth, folded his arms, and leaned against the metal wall for support. Just stand and take it, and think what on earth you’re going to say to them all.

When at last the paint melee stopped, he cracked an eyelid and looked down at himself. If he hadn’t needed glasses before, he certainly would after an eyeful like that. Lime green, sherbet pink, tropical orange. This outfit was single handedly going to set the royal laundry on strike.

A helmeted head popped over  the wall. “Sire!” cried Number One anxiously, already grabbing onto a spike to vault over. “Are you hurt?” 

The ground had already spat so many things out; if only it could swallow him. He forced a limp, rainbow-coloured thumbs up. 

Number One was there in a moment, seizing him by the elbows. “Are you hurt at all?” He sounded beside himself.

Graham shook his head, grateful that his sopping blue and white hair hung down over his face, so that his eyes were hidden too.

“Can you speak?”

“Uh huh.”

Number One’s grip relaxed, and if it was a wave of relief that washed over the guard, Graham could feel it roll over him too. Just for a moment. Because the next moment the grip turned severe. If Number One had been any stronger he would have crushed Graham's elbows as he leaned in and whispered furiously, “What in bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?” Then he stepped back, and shouted clearly, “His majesty is not seriously harmed. Numbers Two and Three, prepare the carriage to take him home at once. My lord mayor, on behalf of the royal guard, we are deeply, deeply sorry for this unfortunate accident. Numbers Four, Five, and Six, we’ll be here overnight to… deal with all this.” 

Up on the clifftop, Hector shook himself from his stupor. “Uh - uh - uh, well,” he stammered, “well, I don’t think anyone’s heading home tonight. The, uh, the rock was, um, heavy. The landslides, they worked perfectly, on both sides. So you’re probably stuck here until, um, we can get the rubble crew in.”

Number One twitched, almost imperceptibly. “How long will that take?”

Hector began twisting his hat into a helix. “I don’t think the team has been, um, precisely organized yet. We - we only finished the tollbooth last night. Um, there’s a signup sheet on the town board. Can someone run and check on that?”

The last time Graham had stayed overnight at the mayor’s house, he’d slept on the sofa. This evening the two housemaids rushed about in a frenzy to get the master bedroom ready. They changed out the bedding, set up a side table with a pitcher of water, mints, and a bell, and covered the floor and armchair with towels and tarps, so the splattered king could drip as much as he liked.

Exhausted, he eased into the chair sorely. If his muscles were feeling that fall now, what would they be tomorrow? As for the headache, it had apparently decided to split expenses and housemate with a few other headaches. But a splitting head and aching muscles were things he could get over. He wasn’t sure about the rest.

The wash stand was just within reach. A linen towel hung over the edge. Improper it might be, but his handkerchief was a sodden mess of paint. Graham grabbed the towel and blew his nose hard. Even the mucus seemed to have all sixteen colours in it.

Number One marched into the room with the most precisely by-the-book march Graham had ever seen from him, but he only stopped the door from slamming at the last second. He stepped carefully around the colourful footprints, placed his helmet on the dresser, and stared at Graham. He didn’t exactly look angry. Graham didn’t quite know what that look was, except that it was intense. “What are you?” asked the guard slowly.

Graham shrugged.  “An artistic masterpiece,” he said dryly.

“No. What are you?”

“I know. I know. I’m an idiot.” He dragged a weary hand across his face, and it came away purple and brown.

Number One took a step forward. “No!” He emphasized every word. “You are Daventry. Daventry! You cannot be Sir Graham any longer. You cannot be an island, or a maverick, or whatever you think you are. And you cannot be a rebellious schoolboy.” 

Couldn’t he give it five minutes? “It’s just when he said it couldn’t fall, I took it in the sense that -”

“Daventry tumbled and scraped its way down a mountainside today. Daventry fell on its face in the dust.”

“I was actually on my back…”

“Daventry walked away wet, unsteady, and foolish, gagging up paint in front of the whole town, who will spread it round on our side of the border and over it. And the fault is completely mine.”

That got Graham’s attention. He looked up. “What?”

“You are as far from ready as you could be. And you nearly got yourself killed today.” Number One looked as though he might go on, but he abruptly stopped himself. He seized his helmet up, replaced it, and muttered, “I should be publicly flogged."

This time, he let the door slam.

[aardvaark]

i’ve said already many times that The First David Job is one of my favourite episodes for sophie in Leverage, usually in reference to the scene with her, nate & sterling on the rooftop. BUT i also love that episode for her relationship with parker! when sophie says "what would parker do?" and follows the knowledge she’s learnt from parker, it’s a very good almost-end to their season one arc.

over the course of season one, sophie’s gone from saying the same thing as eliot about parker - "there’s something wrong with you" (pilot) - to acting as a maternal figure (feeling parker’s forehead in The Two Horse Job) and mentoring her (The Juror #6 Job). she’s started to get some insight into parker’s past (The Stork Job) and has a rather unique way of seeing parker, noticing the vulnerability and loneliness under her fairly spiky exterior. however, appreciating parker’s expertise is a different thing entirely. The First David Job makes it clear that sophie’s actually been listening to parker and that she trusts parker’s expertise!! sophie takes a very literal leap of faith off the building, lol.

it’s important to me because it shows sophie doesn’t simply pity parker, doesn’t write her off. she’s learnt to appreciate that parker is indeed a very competent, analytical, knowledgeable professional in her field. she sees that same passion for the craft (the craft of crime, yes lol) in parker that she experiences herself. and this all mirrors how sophie comes to appreciate and trust parker’s ability to talk to the mark in The White Rabbit Job towards the end of their whole-series arc. gah!! this First David scene, it’s a good moment. it’s a great moment!! and notably there’s a similar thing between nate and hardison there, likely between nate and parker as well since he’s masterminding this plan.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Chris, I suffer of simpinitis and the only cure is you to write for Arlecchino (just a joke don't feel pressured especially if you end up not liking her also good luck if you're pulling for her)

(Genshin Impact) Arlecchino, Lynette, Xianyun, and Barbara's S/O getting scared by a spider

I don't plan on pulling for her because Clorinde is showing up, but FEAR NOT ANON! Quoth the FFXIV:

Arlecchino watches with vague amusement as S/O suddenly leaps back, nearly into her arms.

She catches them with minimal effort as her eyes slowly track tiny movement on the floor.

A spider was skittering across the floor at a slow pace, making her gaze trail back to S/O.

(Arlecchino) "Spiders are not very likely to attack humans without being provoked. And even then, that is under the most dire of circumstances-"

(S/O) "I-I know, but...they're just creepy!"

(Arlecchino) "Indeed."

With a hum of acknowledgement, she almost drops S/O to the ground as they barely caught themselves in time.

Arlecchino walks over to the spider and gently puts it in a cup before releasing it outside.

She crosses her arms as distant memories from her past came trickling in.

(Arlecchino) "You wouldn't have liked Bambi."

(S/O) "Who's that?"

(Arlecchino) "A pet spider that I once owned."

(S/O) Of course you owned one...

They were smart enough to not say that out loud, but Arlecchino had the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

She probably knew what they were thinking anyway.

Even when she was spacing out, Lynette could easily spot something moving in the corner of her eye.

(Lynette) "Oh, a spider-"

(S/O) "WHAT?!"

S/O immediately balled up onto the couch, head rapidly darting back and forth.

(S/O) "W-WHERE?!"

Lynette's ears twitched from how loud S/O was being, but she easily grabbed the spider in a cup, noting how S/O was inching away from her.

(Lynette) "It's not even a dangerous kind, just a regular-"

(S/O) "I don't care what it is, just throw it out!"

Lynette smiled and gently let it escape out the house.

As she sat back down next to S/O, her tail swished playfully, though Lynette herself was stoic as ever.

(Lynette) "What are you going to do when i'm not here?"

(S/O) "D-Don't tease me!"

Xianyun adjusts her glasses when she sees a spider on the table.

S/O almost dropped their food completely at the sight of it, while Xianyun looked slightly annoyed.

(Xianyun) "How unsightly for a dinner table."

With a small gust of wind, she flicks it away, making S/O leap out their seat.

(S/O) "GAH! D-Don't fling it at me!"

(Xianyun) "One was not aiming at you, dear. Do be careful, otherwise your plate will drop."

S/O took a deep breath of relief while Xianyun continued to eat.

(Xianyun) "Hm...One has an idea for an invention. We could construct you a machine that can take care of household pests like that."

(S/O) "...W-Would you?"

Xianyun suddenly beams with pride, a gleam of light reflecting off her glasses.

(Xianyun) "Fear not, One will make sure you are never bothered by a spider ever again! We will get started straight away after dinner."

What ended up happening was Xianyun constructed a machine that was too good at killing household pests, to the point it broke parts of the wall.

Both Barbara and S/O yelp when they see a spider speed along the tiles of the Cathedral.

(S/O) "Aw man, it's going up to the ceiling!"

(Barbara) "I-It's not going to drop on our heads, is it?!"

The two exchanged a look that said neither were wanting to find out the answer.

Accepting defeat, the two quickly exited the cathedral out onto the plaza.

(S/O) "Do you think we could ask one of the sisters to help us?"

(Barbara) "U-Um...well-"

It didn't take long for either of them to realize that it'd be absolutely mortifying to ask a sister for something so trivial.

Instead, they decided to practice their singing outside.

Which arguably, was worse since spiders could be anywhere, but it didn't seem to cross their minds as they slowly became comfortable again and laughed the situation off.

Until the next day they forgot about it and entered the cathedral, only to be jumpscared by it as it sat on the pews they were at.

[hxney-lemcn]

Worst to best characters to be friends with if you have anxiety

this is all based off of me and my personal anxiety. Obvi other people are anxious about different things and on different levels (not to mention my biases towards characters).

WORST

Kalim: sorry. As much as I love him I don’t think I could handle it. It’s not just the parties, it’s like…everything. My anxiety stems from a fear of not being in control (haha) so the fact that he’s so carefree would actually kill me.

Floyd: I like him a lot too but he’s a nightmare. I’d be so scared around him 😭 I wouldn’t want to accidentally set him off so I’d always be on edge and once again, his carefree ‘let’s skip class’ nature would kill me.

Rook: he’s scary. Like honestly. If this was real life and he was actually following me I would actually be in a constant panic. No thanks. And when he’s dramatic it brings more attention on him and you by default for being by him so no thanks.

Lilia: I could not handle him. I don’t think our humor would match and I’d get very awkward. Not to mention how outgoing he is, sorry it’s a bit much for me.

Sebek: he’s constantly screaming about his waka-sama. Do you know how embarrassing that would be? To not only be yelled at but by a fanboy?? I think I’d just wither on the spot. I can’t handle all those eyes on me.

Leona: so he’s actually kind of high, but that’s cus he’s so mean if he doesn’t know you 😭 I think I’d actually cry cus I’d feel so anxious if he were to say something to me. I swear I’m not sensitive Leona just kinda doesn’t hold back and I can’t handle all that.

Vil: Gah he’s one of my favs but he’d intimidate me so badly. I’d be so quiet around him hoping he doesn’t notice my existence 😭 I couldn’t handle his criticism either, I do not have the right mindset for that (it would get me stressed so quickly).

Cater: another fav, but sadly, I’d be easily embarrassed if he filmed himself in public. Or if he tried to post stuff of me cus like…he’s got a good amount of followers. Yeah no thanks. I don’t like being perceived. But his bubbly personality would help me calm down.

Azul: idk how to explain this one. Like he pretends to be this nice guy but then swindles you. He’d be on my watch list which means I’ll be more on guard around him. I’d probably just avoid him if anything.

Ruggie: idk, he’s the character I understand the least, so I’d probs just be awkward around him. His humor is different than mine so I would do that awkward laugh and it’s just not a good scenario. No thanks.

Epel: he keeps trying to fight people. No way is that good for my heart 😭 I’d be so embarrassed trying to pretend like I don’t know him 💀

Jade: he’d intimidate me a lot at first, but then we could talk about mushrooms and marine life and I think we could be chill. I can have a more morbid sense of humor so his ‘threats’ (I don’t think he’s actually lethally poisoned anyone) would seem more like jokes to me.

Ace: so he literally insults Yuu right off the bat. He’d probs do the same to me. So yeah, not a fan. Make me feel like shit. But once your friends it’s better, but all the shit he gets into…not my style. (He would be a good friend tho, maybe just a bit dense about anxiety stuff and accidentally say something really mean/condescending)

Jamil: love this guy, but he would scare me at first (ok tbf any person I don’t know scares me…). Like he’s got this responsible aura and I wouldn’t wanna mess him up and he’d probs be a bit cold shouldered. But I think we would get along over time, and he’d be considerate of me so he’s closer to the middle.

Jack: don’t get me wrong, dude is super nice and has a kind heart (reason why he’s closer to the best), but he’s a total tsundere. The quietness and the whole ‘but it’s not cus I like you’ thing would just make me feel awkward.

Idia: ik, surprising he isn’t the best with all the stuff I’ve been writing about him, but let’s be honest. First meeting and neither of us are talking. And it will probs be like that for a while, so he’s a bit high on my list. Ofc once you get to know each other it’s a lot better cus y’all can be emotional support buddies but yeah.

Deuce: bro has a homey vibe. He’s a bit dense and used to be a delinquent, but if I’m meeting him at NRC then I think we’d get along well. He’s a sweetheart and that would make me like him quickly and not be so anxious lol

Riddle: ok so he’s so close to the best BECAUSE!!! My anxiety about not having control? He 100% relates and we’d probably bond over it 😭 plus I love having rules to follow so I know I’m not doing anything wrong…yeah I relate to Riddle a bit too much (just on a much, much lower level. It’s not that bad I swear)

Malleus: why is he so close to best? Well…he is really warm when he first meets Yuu. I think that he is a bit intimidating, but his personality would quickly win me over and make me feel safe with him.

Ortho: hello? The sweetest person at NRC? Need I say more?

Silver: literally the chillest man alive. AND he has animals following him? Say less. Not to mention how nice he’d be if you told him you were anxious. He’d always look out for you and try to find a solution.

Trey: wow. Ngl, I’m not a huge fan of him (nothing wrong with him he just never caught my eye), but even I gotta admit Trey is probably one of the most level headed there is. He handled Riddle really well (for a teen) and ik he’d be a really good person to be friends with. Def a guy you want in your corner if crowds get to be too much.

BEST

Leave a comment about who you think would be best or worst. Just pls don’t start fighting 😭

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' BLINDSIDED ,,

|| pairings: dabi x gn!reader / touya todoroki x gn!reader

|| warnings: dabi is in rehab, i explain it later. reader is blind.

|| oh my god, achilles writing about someone who's not a hero birdman? crazy. dabi's gonna be ooc since idk how to write him

|| word count: 1.7k

|| Touya Todoroki, more commonly known as Dabi. In this small dabble/fic, the League of Villains were caught and detained. However, through the power of fanfiction, Dabi and the others were allowed to go through rehab (in the prison first), be let out in small time increments while being watched over by some hero or guard, and lastly they were put under a heroes care to make sure they don't.. Y'know, get worse. Dabi was put under, you guessed it, Endeavors care. And, lastly, if they so choosed, the former villains could become heroes, or at least sidekicks.

|| He absolutely hated it, what's worse was that he wasn't able to use his quirk for a year since he had a quirk anklet thing, he didn't know what it was called. Was he happy he wasn't in prison anymore? Yeah, of course. Did he act like it? Hell no. He hated Endeavor with a burning passion, and he stole his credit card more times than he can count with the help of Shoto and Natsuo. Fuyumi was against it, though.

|| He got to visit Rei as well, which was.. Nice enough. He didn't really care much for his mom. He did care, but.. It was weird, whatever, he doesn't care about anything. All he wants is to be able to use his quirk and be free of Endeavor. At least he could laze around the house most days, it was, obviously, nicer than the old League of Villains place.. At least he didn't have to scrap for food. He could have cold soba with Shoto everyday if he wanted.

|| Gah! Whatever. Plus it's not like he could go anywhere without people flinching away from him everytime they saw his face. I mean, it made sense. Notorious villain, ugly set of scars. Makes sense why people flinched away. He understood, honestly if someone didn't flinch from him, he'd think they were a psychopath. Who wouldn't be scared of a known villain who's murdered people??

|| But then there was.. You. Dabi had met you in front of a small cafe that is the only place Dabi didn't feel like he was hated, or cast aside. Again, people hating him was totally valid and he understood why they did, he just needed a break. But, I digress. When he first met you, you were sipping on your beverage of choice and, at least appeared, to be looking out the window. You seemed so... Soft as the light hit your face. But, Dabi being Dabi, he just ignored you every time he saw you. Well, acted like he ignored you, in reality he glanced over to you a few times.

|| This day was different, you left before he was going to leave and you knocked over your.. Cane? How did he never notice that before? You tried to find it, using the table as a crutch but it was too far. So what did Dabi do? Look confused for a moment as you struggled before scoffing and helping you out. Why he did? He didn't know, god maybe the rehab wasn't getting to his head.

|| "Think you dropped this," He lifted the cane and handed it over to your, very very VERY grateful self as you thanked him profusely. With that he left you alone as you used your cane/walking stick to help you leave the cafe. And that's your official meeting!

|| The next few days were pretty typical, however you did say hi to him at times after you found out his usual table. With much failed attempts. You never knew his name so you were just like "Hiya stranger!" or just a simple "Goodmorning" or something along those lines. He enjoyed it but never showed it, always grumbling a small "Hello" back. He hadn't told anyone about you, not his siblings, definitely not his dad or mom, definitely not the League they'd make fun of him, the only one who he'd be somewhat willing to say to is... Oh god, the damned bird.

|| Ever since rehab, him and Hawks had gotten on good terms, the only guy Dabi would begrudgingly call a friend outside of the League. They'd text.. Quite frequently, tbh, they'd trauma bond about their pasts so it was semi easy to talk to him. I digress, Dabi's mentioned you to Hawks once or twice. And he doesn't know how to talk more to you.. He doesn't know why he wants to talk to you.

|| "Sounds like you're just touch starved and want a friend?" Hawks stated, but sounded like more of a question as he snacked on some chips lazing about on his couch while Dabi was out on his balcony having a smoke. "Just say hi to them? Or sit at their table or something"

|| "Sitting at their table huh?" Dabi muttered that, actually taking that into consideration as he blew some smoke out of his mouth. The two of them stayed in silence for a few moments, the only noise was the tv, Keigo's crunching and Dabi blowing out more smoke. That was their friendship, and Dabi actually enjoyed it. Especially since he uh... Didn't have to betray him or whatever, ahem.

|| He left Keigo's place, giving his lighter back and saying bye to him. By now it was dark, like.. 11 pm? He'd like to say, he didn't know, his phone died a while ago. He kinda regretted not asking Keigo for his charger but whatever, it was a nice enough night to walk around, taking a small detour through the park. He could actually enjoy the city without having to worry about getting arrested or.. Hey.

|| He saw you on the park bench, just chilling there. You didn't have a phone out, not like you could stare at it. You just had your head tilted up to the sky. Damn, you looked so.. Peaceful. Dabi didn't wanna interrupt whatever the hell you were doing, but he could just... Talk to you. And he did. He sat on the bench beside you as you kept your head up to the sky.

|| "Hey, stranger," He muttered. You knew that voice! Your ears perked up the second you heard his voice and turned his direction, a small smile on your face as your gaze bore into his.

|| "Hey.. Uh.. Never caught your name, friend." You said, as you let out a small chuckle. The cold air around the two of you showed your small breath. Is this what peace felt like?? Is this what being a normal person felt like? Dabi didn't know, but he sure as hell isn't going to let it go. But.. What was he going to say for his name? Dabi? And let you know he was a villain and he'd never talk to you ever again? Or Touya? The name he so hated and renounced long ago.

|| ".. My name's Touya." He said quietly. He decided if he was going to befriend you, might as well not screw it up before he could even hear what your name was. He watched as you nodded, quirking your eyebrow up as you tapped your chin. What the hell were you thinking about that made you seem so.. Amused?

|| "You sure it isn't Dabi?" You asked with a small smile, a bit of mischief in your tone as Dabi froze. You knew?? Since when? For once in his life, he was speechless. No witty comeback, no insult to throw, nothing. He just sat there as you laughed in amusement.

|| Once you've finished your fit of giggles and chuckles you introduced yourself. Huh, now he knows your name. He repeated it quietly with a nod. He still didn't understand.. Why weren't you running in terror? Or insulting him for being a terrible person? Why did you just smile at him.. Like he did nothing wrong?

|| You admitted you asked the cafe owner who he was a few weeks back. Ever since the day he helped you with your cane, you were always.. At least interested in becoming friends! Sure, it freaked you out when you found out Dabi was a villain, but after learning he'd gone through rehab, you were more.. Relaxed? Afterall, he seemed nice.

|| You and Dabi- no, Touya, stayed on the bench for a long while, talking. For once! Learning about each other, and the more Touya learned abour you.. The more he wanted to let you into his life. Let you learn about his family, learn about his past.. Not be Touya, not be Dabi, but just.. Well, he didn't know. But, whatever.

|| Now! He offered to walk you home which you happily agreed, it was only a five minute walk though, you'd already memorized the way. He wondered why you only had a cane instead of a guide dog, you were saving up for one... Hmm..

|| He bid his goodbyes, promising to see you (haha) the next day and getting scolded by Fuyumi for being out late. After she learnwd WHY he was so late, oh she was ECSTATIC to find out Touya made a new friend!! Especially the one from the cafe! (He's told her about you before.)

|| Time skip to around a few weeks later, you and Touya had breakfast together at the cafe. You've met Fuyumu, Natsuo, and Shoto!! They were so nice! Shoto was really funny, really blunt! Fuyumi was so kind and soft spoken and Natsuo was entertaining! Much to Touya's dismay, you ended up close with all of his siblings. He wanted you for himself- wait what?

|| Ah, well, your friendship with Touya grew as the two of you kept hanging out. He'd talk about his home life, how he's going through rehab and that by the end of it he'd work as a hero. More of an underground one, but still a hero. And everytime he'd speak, you'd be there to listen.

|| When you would talk, oh you know that all of Touya's attention would be on you. Wether you knew it or not, he'd stare at you, all wide eyed as he listened to every word you said as if it were the law. He never did that with anyone else..

|| The two of you grew close as time went on, when he debuted as a "Rehabilitated Hero" (that wasn't his hero name), you were his first and number one fan! And don't think his family didn't notice! They had grown close to you, especially Fuyumi. She absolutely ADORED that you were Touya's friend (he.. didn't have much friends.).

|| Though, she could tell.. Your relationship was shifting. Touya was falling for you, and unbeknownst to anyone else, you were falling for him.

|| i had an idea and ran with it! idk how good this is, might make a second part but idk! js needed to cope from doing finals with this <//3

[beiasluv]

f1 tropes that I daydream about

a/n: yes, i have d.l.s (dilf lover syndrome)

— dilf!jenson crushing on a younger reader. keeping things appropriate when he’s ripping his skin off inside. reader being this cheeky gal, playing innocent just to push his buttons. (wink) jokes aside, I just know that the tension is pregnant in the air. imagining wearing a dress he loves to a house party, he just needs to whip you out to a bathroom.

— princess treatment everyday from mr. button himself. hands on your waist, rubbing it in circles, keeping your skirt from rolling too high (in public) ‘darling’ just feels to wrong yet so right.

— teenage dirtbag!jenson going to frat parties and ended up crashing at your place. trying to be civilized and give him a proper treatment. while unbuttoning his shirt, he got it the wrong way (very much to your liking- and y’know what happens next 😉)

— dilf jenson, finding his pregnant reader and his dogs cuddling together. (I hate pregnancy trope but gah daium)

— rbr!sebastian being this meanie he always is, treating everyone like a fucking dick except reader. (or it could go another way that he treats reader like a fucking dick until tension explodes and they found themself in a compromising 😉 situation at a party, drunk and intoxicated. room screaming of sex.) long run is, reader felt like a fucking piece of meat, seb running after her to prove her wrong. princess treatment, darling, spoiling, you name it.

— your favorite german brat, being all slutty and flirty to his grid boyfriend (button/jenson) and you get jealous, pulling him for a heated kiss in the cool down room. seb just grinning to the kiss, tugging your hair harder.

— rbr!seb being all obsessed with his younger assistant/manager, can’t take her seriously for fuck’s sake. smiling like a fucking idiot even when she’s mad at him, so she just kiss him stupid to get him into his senses.

— sugardaddy!mark 😔🤭 he’s just your dumb himbo/dilf paying for your attention/happiness (fuck you to who ever say money can’t buy happiness) you got him wrapped around your fingers, girlbossing him all you want. (and he’s happy with it) until you fiddled too much with his patience (in a good way) he finally thinks he has to teach you some lessons and proves who actually wears the pants. 😉

— dilf!webber visiting your family’s house for a bbq. being the aussie he is, got assigned to take care of the grill, while you walk around in your promiscuous little dress. killing him in every way known to man.

— carlos sainz and innocent kink is my favorite McCombo. being a simp for you with his big brown eyes, what ever you say pretty boy. but just so you know that he can corrupt you whenever he wants.

feel free to use them, write them, daydream- tag me if you made something 🤭🤭

[bumblehoneybee]

Slams desk. Throws table grabs shoulders that bee one is literally so lovely oh my goodness ToT like gen for what it is, its cute as a concept and AAAAA bee reader. And their lil story and how it progresses on with dogday and aaaaa naturally yer writing style made it all go together so well too like UGH TOT

Pardon me but like, I need a continuation 😨 GAH JUST imagine Y/N holdin his face, A hand on each side before moving to caress other parts as if remembering forgotten memories. “Did anything change?” Gives the lass scratches under his ear and laughs “Nope”

Tbh let the reader be silly to have an old friend again

Bumble On By, I Won’t Be Long

"Don't fly! That's cheating!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

Dogday blinks and sees you. You're staring out at the Playcare, or so it looks like. He knows you don't see much of anything anymore. He wonders what you're thinking about.

"Dogday! Don't lick me! I'm covered in pollen!"

"But I l- GUH BLEH!"

"I told you, silly!"

You straighten when a weight settles into your lap. Your hand falls to the top of a furry head. You can picture it in your mind, the shape of his face, the curve of his features.

Dogday looks up at you, feeling your hands trace his ears. Your fingers are careful, following the slant of his jaw, the stretch of his wide smile. He sighs as you stroke down the bridge of his nose before drawing your thumbs along his brows.

"Dogday, I have something for you!"

"What? What? What?"

"Here! They're called forget-me-nots. They're so you never forget me, even if I don't come back for the next season."

"Aw, come on! Who could ever forget you?"

Your smile is smaller now, but no less brilliant. Dogday never forgot that.

"Has anything changed?" He asks you, your hands cradling his cheeks.

A laugh escapes you, flooding his mind with a million memories. "Nope. You're as handsome as ever."

thump thump thump

You giggle louder as Dogday buries his face in your lap, his tail slapping against the floor.

He's going to find you some flowers. Pretty and a breath of fresh air, just like you.

[queer-n-here]

Theres like no Lovecraft content 😭

Can I request instructing him to fuck himself on his own tentacles?

My buddy 🦅 anon also asked for something like this, so here goes!

And yes, bro, that's a thing, I've seen certain pieces like that.

Also, uhm... I'm not sure how I feel about tentacles, but I still write it.

So here it is! Hope y'all like it. (It's a lil short, but I think quality wise it's good, hehe)

Contents: Making Lovecraft fuck himself with his own tentacles.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, masterbation, tentacle use.

Gah, Lovecraft?

That man is a virgin, and for once, by choice.

He has no interest in sex. It's what normal people do, he thinks. Not for someone like him.

But then you come around, and even though it confuses him, he finds himself drawn to you. It's unusual, so he tries to figure out why in his own ways.

Because he's not used to feeling. And yet here he is.

All that going about, and he ends up on your bed, butt naked and holding his legs apart with his own hands for you to watch as his very own tentacles assault his hole at your command.

His gaze is hazy, calves trembling and cock twitching as moans resound in the room, punctuated every with a rhythmatic squelch, squelch. It feels so good, so good, watching you stroke your cock with your eyes glued to him, kneeling on the bed in front of him.

"Faster," You order, and the tentacles speed up, even as Lovecraft's head falls back on the bed.

Tears would have surely dripped down his face if he had them. His chest is shuddering, and his lips tremble even as he bites them for the millionth time.

He can feel your gaze on him, your eyes raking over his neck, shoulders, chest, torso, before slipping lower and lower as your hand strokes your cock to the same rhythm as his tentacles.

God, Lovecraft wants you to put it in him. But fuck, he doesn't even know why, so he'll make do with what he has now.

His tentacles attack his hole with vigour, and the pleasure is too much, even for his non-human body. But he bites down on the back of his hand and endures it.

Lovecraft loves your gaze on him, and he'll do anything to keep it there.