#getting all those patterns done nearly ended me

[jammerspyjammass]

Drew @marsoid’s ocs in a dnd type setting:DD

Go read ride or die, its so good

[princessedesfleursss]

CS55E2

Pairing: carlos sainz x fem!wife!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: morning sex

It was almost 6 in the morning. You had to get up to make breakfast for the kids and get them ready for school. Obviously the nanny was going to do it anyways but you always helped out despite your busy schedule. Today was one of those mornings where work started late into the afternoon so you had some morning time.

Despite your attempts to get yourself up from bed a hand held you down in place. Holding you close to a warm body. It was none other than your husband who was enjoying his holidays after the end of the season.

Trying to move away only made it worse for you as you felt your body being held even closer to the warm body behind you.

“Mi amor trying to get me horny early in the morning?” Questioned a raspy voice to your ear.

You shuddered at his words and as you felt his now erection press against your back you groaned.

“Carlos not today. I have to get the kids ready for school.”

“But baby you still have time no?” He asked manhandling you to turn around to face him.

You smiled when your eyes met his sleepy ones. His voice gave away his unawake form but his features told you otherwise. With sun rays beaming across his tanned skin, glowing his brown eyes Carlos looked ethereal in front of you. You let your fingers run through his thick locks that you and his fans equally adored as Carlos moved forward to kiss the exposed skin on your shoulder. Making sure to suck on a certain spot to leave a mark and earning a small whimper from you in the process.

After he was done marking you he grabbed your face with a hand and pulled you in for a kiss. Your hands swept across his bare chest as you felt his heartbeat beneath your palm. He kissed you so passionately making you completely awake and aroused.

Right after he was done kissing you and placing smooches all across your face to let you know how much he adored you the alarm on your phone went off. You turned around to off it and got off of bed right after that.

But Carlos was much faster and moved across the bed, while making sure the blanket was still covering his lower torso, to grab hold of your hand.

“Cariño don’t leave me here alone,” he begged giving you his signature puppy eyes.

You laughed looking at him and pointing at the clock, “Hello? The kids need to go to school. Are you even a dad?”

With a hard tug he pulled you to the bed and on top of him, “Yes I am a dad but before that I am your husband”

With a cheeky smile he looked up at you. Messy bed hair and a silk gown that barely managed to cover you up as you lay on top of him.

You looked down at him in awe. How lucky you were to have him as your man. You let your fingers gently glide across his chest and traced patterns on his prominent facial features. You felt his erection harden underneath you for the second time. Smiling you leaned down to kiss him ever so passionately. Your tongues moved against each other in fiery passion and his hands rubbed your arms radiating goosebumps all over your body.

Quickly you slipped yourself under the blanket. Your naked core touched his erection which drove you crazy. Kneeling up and aligning yourself you looked at him for a signal and pushed yourself down in one go. An uncontrollable moan slipped out of your lips which you managed to tone down. You took him in slowly and took him nearly out slowly. With your hands against his chest you rode him taking all of him as deep as you could take and lifting yourself up to push yourself down and do it all over again. This went for a couple strokes until Carlos got impatient and was aware about the time.

Pushing his knees up to cradle your back against his thighs and pulling your upper body into him he thrusted hard into you making you almost scream with the simultaneous pleasure and pain which strung though you.

“I need you to be a good wife and take what I’m going to give you alright. Because we’re running out of time”

You whined as he pushed his hips inside of you, rutting into your core at a hard pace. His hands was gripping your hips at a bruising manner pushing you into him. You tried muffling your moans into his pillow as your hands tugged at his lucious locks. A few grunts later he came undone just as you did.

Carlos dropped his legs flat on to the bed and hugged you closer to him letting your mixed cum not leak out of your bruised hole. You lifted your tired head up and kissed him sloppily. Just then you felt his erection start to stir up again.

Shaking your head with a laugh you pushed yourself off of his and limped off to the bathroom throwing a mom like remark at him,

“Not again horny boy”

To which Carlos simply chuckled.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hii! May i request some headcanons were mt. lady, sir night eye, present mic, eraser and all might react to their s/o wearing their clothes after sex? Like if they didn’t have any clothes with them what weren’t… dirty so they stole some! Sorry if this is boring but I thought it was kinda cute :)

Hope you enjoy these, lovely!

Characters: Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye, Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Contents: gn!reader, mild nsfw

Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady

Perhaps it was an impromptu tryst, because you’re at Mount Lady’s apartment and your only clothes are dirty. Perhaps your stuff got torn up in a fight with a villain and now you’ve come back to hers to ‘celebrate’, you find yourself left with nothing but your underwear. Perhaps not even that. 

You could sleep naked, but it’s not the most comfortable situation to be in. So you wander over to Yuu’s wardrobe (really a walk-in closet). She might only be a debut hero, but she’s very popular and spends a lot of time in the limelight. This translates to making absolute bank, and she spends a lot of it on beautiful clothes. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a gala dress to bed, so you grab a t-shirt that looks pretty old, and maybe a pair of yoga pants. 

Depending on your size compared to her, they might be fine, or they might be a tight fit. When she comes back into the bedroom, her skin gleaming from her nightly skincare routine, she stops in the doorway and pouts at you.

“If you stretch those out, you’re going to have to replace them.”

“...says the woman who turns into a titan?” The irony is too much for you.

“Only my hero costume stretches with me, duh.” A pause. “Your butt does look good in those yoga pants, though.”

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

It would seem that if you’re dating Sir Nighteye, you’ve at least got some sense of planning and responsibility. But you’re only human, and sometimes you’re going to find yourself caught short. Short on clothes, in this case. Even if your clothes are clean, you couldn’t fathom sleeping in your work clothes.

You wait until Sir Nighteye is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, before sneaking open one of his drawers and grabbing something at random. You end up with…

A pair of boxers and a vintage All Might t-shirt.

It’s hardly the sexiest of nightwear, but you make it work. He leans back into the doorway to tell you to borrow some clothing, and you’re lounging on his bed, all “Paint me like one of your French girls”. 

“I’ve been waiting for you~” you purr.

He nearly spits out his mouthwash, and disappears back into the bathroom to gather himself. You distinctly hear him chuckle under his breath, then clear his throat.

“If you want to entice me, darling, don’t wear the face of my former boss on your torso.”

Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic

Hizashi’s always trying to get you to wear his clothes, anyway! He drapes his little moto jacket (the casual one, not the studded one he wears as part of his costume) over your shoulders a lot and tells you how great you look. 

Seeing his partner wear his clothes just gives him this little kick and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

You’ve got a variety of options in Mic’s wardrobe. In the t-shirt section, you’ve got a lot of band t-shirts, weird, bright coloured ones covered in fruit or English slogans, a few rare Eraserhead merch t-shirts he got done to piss off Aizawa, and if you want to borrow some boxers, you’ll be hard pressed to find some that don’t have a loud, zany pattern on them. 

If you want to be (moderately) sexy, grab a vintage band t-shirt and a pair of his black boxer briefs. If you want to make him laugh, grab the stupidest t-shirt you can find and pair it with an eye watering set of boxer shorts, especially if they have bananas on them. 

Hizashi grins wide enough to split his face in half at the sight of you in his clothes. It doesn’t matter if you went for sexy or stupid, really, because he’ll just try to get you out of them again, if you know what I mean~

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

This is one of those things that Aizawa doesn’t know he likes until he sees it for the first time. He’s probably dragged himself out of your post-coital snooze to get you both some water or feed the stray cat on his balcony, leaving you to ponder your clothing situation. 

When you open Aizawa’s wardrobe, it’s 75% loose black shirts and pants, with a few non-black items crammed at one end, including those infamous pink sweatpants. 

It seems he’s not totally averse to colour, just not when he’s working. He has a few t-shirts (gifts from Hizashi) covered in cats (as opposed to just covered in cat hair, like the rest). 

If you’ve cuddled him at all, which you have, thoroughly, you know that all his clothes are surprisingly soft and comfortable. He tends to end up with raggedy cuffs on his sleeves, but even so, the shirt has that soft texture clothing gets when it’s been washed many times. You dig out some random black shorts he has, though you’ve never seen him expose his pasty legs in public, so they must be old.

Shouta shuffles back into the room to find you asleep, curled up in your borrowed finery. There’s something about the sight of you lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, looking so warm and comfortable. It’s like a little gut punch of domesticity. 

“You’re meant to ask, you brat,” he says fondly, flopping onto the bed next to you. 

Still, he reflects, as he pulls you closer, that shirt’s gonna smell like you now. Maybe he should make you wear it every time you sleep over.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

All Might’s still pretty nervous about being in a relationship so he’s not 100% sure of the protocol, especially when you’re at his place and you don’t have any clean clothes to wear to bed. He gets flustered and goes to see if he can quickly wash your clothes, forgetting the entire wardrobe of clean clothes right there.

All Might or Small Might, his clothes are going to absolutely drown you no matter what size you are. Toshi’s a titan. Any t-shirt you try to borrow is basically a giant nightshirt. 

Toshinori splutters a little at the sight of you swimming in the fabric of one of his shirts. Once he’s done coughing into his elbow, he offers you a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled up.

“That…might be a little big on you,” he says, tugging playfully on all the excess fabric. “Are you sure it’s going to be comfortable?”

You tell him that you like the feeling of the soft, loose fabric, and the fact that it smells a little like his cologne, even after being washed. He’s chuckles at that, wrapping his large hands around your waist, the fabric cinching in against you.

“Well, never thought one of my old shirts could look so adorable.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter Two (of four)

masterpost

Was this guy for real? Jason nearly decided not to get in out of suspicion. Danny was one of the very few loose ends in his crime yesterday. He sort of figured that eventually Batman would find the driver he’d used to get a duffle bag of heads to the police station. He stalled. It had seemed like an acceptable risk, since he hadn’t shown the guy his face. The only information that the police should have been able to get was where he’d left and that he’d used one of his victim’s phones to call for a ride.

And yet Danny was waiting patiently at the curb for the Red Hood to get in. Wasn’t he scared?

He had been all over the news yesterday. Danny had to know.

‘Either he’s dumb as a box or he is one of the chillest people I’ve ever even heard of.’

Morbid curiosity got him into the car. Danny locked the door as soon as the door was shut– but it was clearly routine. He’d done that yesterday, right. Jason waited a moment before he remembered that Danny wasn’t going to pull out until he had his seatbelt on. He let out a laugh and buckled up. It was pretty cute, actually.

Now that he wasn’t so distracted, maybe he could make small talk. Danny pulled them out into the sparse early morning traffic with an expression of determined focus.

Jason cleared his throat. “You moved to Gotham recently?” he started with. Danny didn’t have the local speaking pattern.

Danny nodded. “For school,” he shared easily. “I’m in the sciences program at Gotham U’s south campus.”

…So he wasn’t the world’s biggest dummy. Jason sat there and contemplated how catastrophically chill a body would have to be to chit chat with a man who had killed like 20 people yesterday that he knew of. Why wasn’t Danny scared? What was his damage? 

‘There’s something really wrong with him,’ Jason thought, with no small bit of admiration. Way too late he commented, “That’s cool, man.”

“Thanks.” Danny seemed unbothered by his long delay in conversation. “You know, I had to go to that same police station this morning.”

Jason tensed. Was Danny making some kind of threat?

“They got a whole shitton of muffins and six quiches delivered,” Danny went on. He appeared to feel no sense of danger in the car.

‘Is he… Did he decide to inform on the police to me?’ Jason’s eye twitched. ‘I already knew that I’d have ruined their whole month but… This is kinda satisfying to hear, actually.’ He made a listening sound to prompt Danny to continue. He couldn't lie; he was intrigued.

“Yeah, they looked like total shit.” Danny was so blithe about it that it became surreal and hilarious. “Exhausted. But that’s not my business.” He crinkled up his nose. “Do you know what they tipped me for that?” He didn’t wait for Jason to go on. “Two dollars.” He made a big gesture with his left hand that took it off the steering wheel despite the fact they were mid turn. “That’s ridiculous! I drove halfway across town, waited for the place to open, carried an absurd amount up those stairs, and for two dollars.” He blew a disrespectful raspberry.

“Fuck the police,” Jason said sympathetically. 

Aight. He saw how it was. He mentally tabulated what was in his wallet and allocated a cool thirty dollars to Danny as a tip. For an informant, that was as cheap as bagged rice. Helluva value. He leaned back in the seat and it squeaked under his weight. “How’s Gotham been treating you?”

“Fine, fine,” Danny said absently. He switched lanes a little too abruptly. “Not that different from home, honestly. I don’t know why people are so dramatic about it.” He floored it to squeak through a yellow light.

Jason had the dawning suspicion that Danny had been on his best driving behavior yesterday. But- “Where is home?” It was more morbid curiosity. He kind of regretted that he was nearly to his stop. 

“Amity Park. Illinois.”

Jason winced. “My condolences.”

Danny laughed, high and sort of eerie now that Jason was really listening to it. It sent an  electric zing up his spine. “That’s what they always say.” He seemed to find it really funny. Way funnier than it should have been.

‘...What are the odds that this guy is one of the weird mutants they make in Amity?’ Jason resisted the urge to ask prying questions. Talia had told him to stay the fuck out of that area so that she didn’t have to rescue him from a government black site. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t have the luxury of the time to go and investigate every cute boy with a nice laugh who wanted to be an informant to the Red Hood.

It was with extreme regret that Jason recognized his stop coming up. He let out a sigh. The voice scramblers in his hood turned it to static. He watched the curb approach with disappointment. Danny made to pull in next to a dark shop. Jason glanced into the windows and caught the reflection of the last person he wanted to see. 

“Batmobile.” He sat up straight, alarmed. It was parked out of sight in an alley. Shit. Shit, of course Batman had tracked back the delivery driver that had brought him to the police building. Fuck. How was he going to get away on foot-

Danny jerked back into the street and hit the pedal to the floor. The engine made a scream of machine fear but holy hell did it accelerate. Jason yelled too and grabbed onto the door handle. He aimed wide eyes at Danny, uncomprehending. 

“Fuck Batman!” Danny yelled out his open window, and they were off.

Holy shit. Holy shit!

The batmobile turned on, the normally silent engine’s purr rearing up to a threatening growl as Bruce veered out onto the street in pursuit.

Danny took them down an alley and Jason sharply readjusted his assessment of Danny’s intelligence. “We can’t fit!” He yelled, trying to pull the brake. If they had to stop in the alley it was all over, Batman would block them off.

Danny slapped his hand away and barreled-

Jason blinked as they raced down the impossibly narrow alleyway. He bit his lip. He looked at the car again, recalculating.

No. No, it definitely didn’t fit. He leaned a little away from the window, extremely uncomfortable. He looked at just the right time to see the passenger mirror collide with a dumpster and slide through undeterred.

Ah. Alright, then. He made a “Fair enough” face and turned around to see that the batmobile was lifting up and doing some weird transformers bullshit to fit down the alleyway. They were gaining ground from Batman. “Sorry I tried to touch the controls,” Jason said, a bit late. He glanced down and realized that his hand stung where Danny had slapped it. He pulled it to his chest and rubbed at it, frowning slightly.

“No worries,” Danny said tersely. He hit the breaks and raked the wheel car to make a fucking pinpoint turn without slowing. Just like that, they were out of Batman’s direct line of sight. A solid inch of the inside of the car overlapped with a folding chair outside someone’s home.

Jason eyed Danny judgmentally.

“Wow, that was a close fit,” Danny said, extremely unconvincing. “We are lucky, huh.” He aimed the car at a wall and somehow ramped up. 

‘I think I might be sick.’

Jason decided that the best thing for him to do right now was to close his eyes and say nothing at all. If Danny wanted plausible deniability for his mutant powers, that was whatever. 

‘How did Batman know where I was going?’ He worked through the problem. ‘Did he hack Danny’s account? If not, someone sold me out.’

Just like that, Jason had a list of people to visit for the day. “D’you think you could drop me off at C street instead?” He felt the uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach that indicated they’d made some kind of move that should not exist off of a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, of course, sorry about this.” Danny sounded a little breathless. “Ah- don’t look.” He cackled.

…’He’s dodging Batman for his benefit, not mine,’ the penny dropped. Jason laughed out loud and then leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Danny was the perfect man. They drove for a while in silence before Jason managed to collect himself. “No worries,” he said through tears. “Hey, no sweat if it’s no, but can I get your number?”

Danny paused.

Oh, fuck. Jason cringed. “I'll leave mine and you can call me if you ever need me,” he corrected hastily. “No pressure.” He scribbled it on the back of a loose receipt in Danny's cupholder and left it, mortified but also glad he shot his shot.

[afewproblems]

Eddie downs the last of his beer and tosses the empty red cup into the kitchen sink, right between a couple who were clearly gearing up to claim one of the spare rooms upstairs. 

Eddie snickers and winks as the girl tells him to fuck off while her boyfriend flips him the bird, god he loves highschool parties, and this one is no exception.

It's Halloween and business is booming for Eddie Munson.

He imagines Dian Fossey felt similarly, wandering through the Congo studying the great apes' behavior patterns and social structure from within rather than observing from afar. 

So far Eddie's observations have paid off in spades and he's managed to sell out most of his stash by targeting the basketball team and their girlfriends. No one wants to get high all by themselves after all, it's almost too easy the way these sheep all flock together. 

Eddie leaves the kitchen behind him, but not before snagging a can of something cold from a nearby cooler of half melted ice. With a decent buzz going, what's one more? He's done working for the night after all. 

Eddie climbs the stairs, dodging drunk teens left and right as they make their way past him, shirts ruffled and hair messy. Eddie snorts, ignoring the wistful pull in his chest as a tall boy on the swim team pulls his girlfriend closer to press a chaste kiss to the top of her head before smoothing her curls away from her forehead. 

Unfortunately no one Eddie would be interested in would accept him brushing their hair like that without punching him in the face.

He shakes his head and continues forward, he's an observer, nothing more. 

Eddie passes a closed door on the second floor and pauses as a raised voice splits through the wood.

"It's bullshit, you're bullshit," the voice slurs out and Eddie feels a wide grin pull at the corner of his mouth. 

He takes a step closer, nearly pressing his ear to the flat of the door.

"Like we're in love?" Another voice says softly, a guy, "you don't love me?" 

A small part of Eddie knows he shouldn't be listening to this, he can hear the waiver in this guy's voice like his heart is slowly cracking in his chest. Shit, he almost feels bad for this guy. 

But the people that go to these stupid parties, the Hawkins elite, the gorillas in the mist, deserve their bullshit --to use this girls turn-of-phrase.

The only reason they didn't mess with Eddie was because he was these highschool shit-heads main source of weed. 

Its karma, plain and simple, Eddie reasons as he presses even closer now.

"It's. Bullshit". The girl hisses emphatically and for a second Eddie hears nothing.

It happens so quickly after that. 

The door swings inward, causing Eddie to stumble into a tall firm chest as the bathroom guy collides with him.

"What the fuck?" The guy says as he pushes Eddie away from himself and --no way.

"Harrington?"

Steve blinks once, his wide hazel eyes red rimmed and shiny in the dim light of the hallway, the tip of his nose is pink as he reaches up to pinch it roughly before swiping across his eyes as well.

Even though Eddie's fairly certain that he and Steve are the same height, he seems smaller like this, deflated, standing in the hallway while a party rages down below them both. 

A cheer rings out, startling Steve into action.

He steps widely around Eddie, enough that his shoulder connects with the wall in his haste to take the stairs down, two at a time, as though Hell is hot on his heels. 

And Eddie should leave it, go back to the party, see if there are any snacks left before calling it a night, but something pushes him to follow the path Steve took.

It's like he's possessed, the haunted look in those hazel eyes forcing him forward until he's outside on the lawn.

A few other teens are outside, including a couple making out on the porch, Eddie steps over them and jogs to the end of the driveway.

He spots Steve down the street sitting on a large rock at the end of another neighbor's lawn with his face in his hands.

He looks up as Eddie gets closer and curses softly.

"Seriously? It wasn't enough that you were listening, you're following me now?" His voice cracks on the last word as he wipes his eyes again, he can't quite hide the way the moonlight catches the tear tracks running down his cheek and neck though.  

"Oh come on Harrington," Eddie says, walking up to Steve. He sits on one of the other rocks and takes a crumpled pack of smokes out of his vest pocket, "it's no fun if you're sad".

"What is?" Steve mumbles after a beat, wiping his eyes again as he stares at the ground. 

"Making fun of you," Eddie shrugs as he takes a cigarette and puts it between his lips, he smiles at the startled bark of laughter from Steve.

"You're a prick," he huffs softly, the barest of smiles slowly blooming across his face.

Eddie can count the constellation of freckles and moles across his face, giving the blanket of stars above them a run for their money. His hand twitches at the thought of touching the ones on Steve's throat.

Eddie coughs once, mentally tallying the number of drinks he must have had for those kinds of  thoughts and shifts on the rock to adjust his pants. 

He holds out the pack to Steve who looks at the nearly empty sleeve before his eyes shift to the house behind Eddie. 

"Nance hated cigarettes," Steve murmurs as the corner of his mouth twitches into a terrible frown. It's gone in an instant as Steve blinks once and reaches out for the pack.

"I got something stronger if you want?" Eddie offers, he shrugs when Steve looks up at him with suspicious eyes. 

"Come on Harrington, I'm not gonna keep kicking you when you're down, you need a pick-me-up and then I can get back into it," Eddie stands up and without thinking, holds out a hand towards Steve, "what do you say?"

Steve stares up at him, his eyes flick once to the outstretched hand before he snorts dryly and slowly takes his hand. 

It's warm in Eddie's own. The fingers squeeze gently as Steve uses it to hoist himself up until he's once again eye level with Eddie. 

From this close Eddie can see the way his eyelashes have clumped together with leftover tears and the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes

Oh…this, this was a bad idea. Eddie swallows roughly as Steve finally nods.

"Lead the way Munson," Steve says with the barest of smirks as he wipes his face one last time, "and if you tell anyone about this, I'll slash your tires".

Eddie cackles at that, "there he is!"

He claps Steve on the back as he leads them towards where he parked his van down the road, "our chariot awaits!"

Eddie ignores the small voice that whispers in his ear, the one that sounds remarkably like his uncle, as it asks him just what the hell he thinks he's doing with Harrington of all people? 

It'll be fine, he tells himself.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Part Two

[callsign-rogueone]

together

platonic! Xaden x gn!reader x Garrick words: 1.3k 🏷: prequel flashback that contains mild fourth wing and iron flame spoilers, 17-18 y/o Xaden and Garrick and gender neutral reader who was their childhood friend (this could be angel, but I purposely left it vague) hurt/comfort, reader dressing Xaden's wounds and brief mentions of blood, tears, fluffy ending (who doesn’t love a good old fashioned friendship cuddle/nap pile?)

The knock on the door of the room you’ve been assigned pulls your focus away from the book in your hands that you haven’t really been reading, just looking at the pages absentmindedly; you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it, not with everything else going on around you.

You know it’s Xaden from the rhythm -- he’s using the secret knock you and Garrick had come up with as children; the same basic pattern, ending with one tap for him, two for Garrick, three for you, and four for Bodhi; your age order.

“Come in,” you call.

You aren’t expecting him to look so dejected, his shoulders slumped and head hung, looking utterly defeated, shirt off, held limply in his hand. “Talk to me,” you say gently, immediately concerned.

“I’d do it myself, but I can’t see them,” he says quietly, turning to show you the bloody cuts covering his back.

Your jaw drops. There has to be…

“One hundred and seven,” he answers before you can ask. One for each of you. They’d turned a respected tradition for marriage and parenthood into a punishment, carving into his skin over and over, deep enough to make sure it would scar.

“Oh, Xay…” you breathe, stunned.

“I cut a deal. We’re safe,” he responds. “All of us. But we’ll be forced into lives of service to the crown as dragon riders.”

You don’t fully process the terms, too busy digging around for a first aid kit. There’s one in nearly every room of this house, a military protocol that his father had taken quite seriously.

He sits on the edge of the bed and hunches forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lowering his head as you work in silence, cleaning and disinfecting all of the cuts as delicately as you can, but he still flinches away from the sting of the alcohol against his raw skin.

“I’m almost done,” you promise.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t expect him to; he’s never been particularly chatty, but you know there’s a storm brewing behind those dark eyes right now, but you’ll be there for him when it starts.

You coax him to sit up a bit so you can wrap the gauze, wrapping him in it from shoulder to waist to cover all of the cuts, and helping him put his shirt back on.

The pain of getting his arms through the sleeves is the last straw -- he finally starts to cry.

You know hugging him would just cause him more pain, and you can’t stroke his back, not wanting to put any pressure on the torn skin, so you settle for petting his hair, smoothing your fingers through the dark strands and gently rubbing the back of his neck to relax him.

“C’mere,” you coax, leaning back against the headboard and setting a pillow in your lap.

With a soft sound of discomfort, he shifts his weight down, resting his head on your lap and wrapping his arms around your waist, clinging to you tightly. His body shakes with sobs as his fingers dig into your skin, and you feel like your heart has been ripped in two.

You‘ve only seen Xaden cry once before, when you were ten, and his mother’s marriage contract expired, giving her the right to leave Tyrrendor and leave Xaden’s life forever, disappearing without a trace. You’d held him like this then, too, let him sob into the collar of your shirt and spent the rest of that day sitting with him and Garrick in near-silence, trying not to cry over the loss yourselves, needing to be strong for your friend.

His mother had always been kind to the three of you. She’d loved Xaden dearly, and appeared to tolerate Fen, with no obvious signs that she wanted to leave, but nonetheless, she’d taken the chance and ran with it, literally. It remained unclear if Xaden had gotten to say goodbye — he likely hadn’t, given the extent of his distress, probably hearing the news from his father before he ran to find the pair of you.

You realize now that it might not have been her decision, that Fen might have asked her to leave. But you’ll never know for sure — he, along with your parents, is lost to you forever.

You don’t tell him it’s okay, because it isn’t, but you need to say something, to acknowledge his pain and the sacrifice he’d just made for you and all of your friends, for people neither of you have even met.

“I know it hurts, X,” you soothe, stroking a hand through his dark locks as he continues to sniffle quietly. “I’m so sorry they made you do that. I’m sorry for everything. You didn't deserve any of it. None of this was your fault."

The door opens with a soft creak, Garrick stepping inside. His eyes widen at the sight of Xaden still trembling, clinging to you and crying, which is disturbing enough in itself, without the open first aid kit on the nightstand next to you and the pile of bloody cotton balls that you’d used to clean his wounds.

“Uallach,” you whisper. Responsibility.

Garrick puts it together quickly enough — Xaden was forced to take the traditional cuts for all of you. He sits beside you both on the arm of the couch, quiet. “I’m so sorry, Xay,” he says softly, brushing a hand over the other boy’s shoulder, careful not to nudge the bandages. 

Xaden adjusts his hold on you, reaching out with one arm — the one bearing the same relic you’re all stuck with now, that smoky black pattern that covers the skin — wincing at the way the motion tugs the cuts on his back. He takes Garrick’s hand in his, holding it silently, a gesture with multiple meanings; a bid for comfort, wanting to have his best friends close, but also a reminder that the three of you are in this together, and an apology; in his deal with the general to save your lives, he’d been forced to agree to all one hundred and seven of you enrolling in Basgiath war college as dragon riders — a death sentence of its own.

“We’ll all be okay,” Garrick promises softly. “We’ll heal, and we’ll adapt, and get through it all, together.”

Xaden’s tears have dried, leaving him with a headache and that hollow feeling you get after a thorough cry. He feels heavier against you, a sign that he’s drifting toward sleep. Good. Rest will help him heal, and give him a break from this exhaustion.

Garrick takes a pillow from the other side of the bed, motioning for you to sit up a little. You move incredibly carefully, not wanting to disturb Xaden in his delicate state, but thankfully he doesn’t seem bothered by it, too worn out to notice or care as Garrick places the pillow behind your back to make you more comfortable.

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. 

“Tired,” you answer. 

“We could all use some sleep,” he concedes, kicking off his boots and shrugging off his jacket, cuddling up against the both of you.

You hum in agreement, fighting a yawn. You haven’t been able to rest much this week, constantly working to take care of the younger children, and the sleep you did get has been plagued by nightmares of the days prior — you’re exhausted. 

You hope Xaden’s dreams will be kind to him — he looks peaceful, still breathing steadily. 

“Get some rest,” Garrick says softly. “Tomorrow will be a new day, and we can start figuring all of this out then.”

You let your eyes drift shut, leaning your head against his muscled shoulder. You’re all going to be sore when you wake up from sleeping like this, bar Xaden, who looks perfectly comfortable where he’s curled up between you like an overgrown puppy.

Garrick is right. The three of you will get through this, together.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[monimccoythings]

Hello, Neighbor (C!Wolverine x reader)

I'm so sorry, as much as I adore Hugh Jackman the second I saw that Wolverine something inside me broke and I went feral. I needed to do this. I just love mutual pinning. I'm not specifying which Wolverine because it's a small spoiler (not entirely plot relevant!) but I think we all know who I'm talking about.

Slight NSFW themes, nothing big

X- You usually find him working on his motorbike in the garage below your shitty apartment complex, a cigar in his mouth, and dressed in a thin white tank top that clung to his sweaty and impossibly muscled body like a second skin.

X-Not gonna lie, since the very first moment you laid eyes on your new neighbor you have had the hots for him. Who wouldn't??

X-He was the quiet type. Reserved, with a permanent scowl that seemed to drive away anyone who crossed his path. You understood, maybe he valued his privacy. But that didn't mean you weren't going to be as kind as you could everytime you two met.

X-Easier said than done. It was hard to form a coherent thought let alone two sentences when he was in front of you in a leather jacket whose seams were about to burst from the inmense pressure his bulging biceps were submitting them.

X-You saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards at your antics. Gosh, now he must think you're an idiot. Why wouldn't earth swallow you up once and for all and end your misery??

X-Still, no matter how much you embarrassed yourself you still came for more. Even if it left your heart nearly bursting out of your chest and your insides twisted in knots. It was all worth it just to see his frown loosen.

X-One day, he even dared to show a small smile. And you, being the current monarch of kindness and stupidity, thought it would be a great idea to tell mr. 'dark and broody' that he had a nice smile. He immediately tensed and mumbled some excuse to quickly retreat to his apartment, leaving you alone in a hall that stank of mold and booze.

X- As you dejectedly made your way towards the apartment, you mentally kicked yourself for stepping over his limits. Who were you kidding? That man could have a supermodel every night if he wanted to, of course he wouldn't have any interest in you. He was just being polite. And now you have ruined it. Way to go, Y/N.

────────────────────────────────────────────

X- Fuck. Shit. God fucking damnit. What was that? One compliment and he already turns into a fucking lovesick mutt. He needed a fucking drink.

X- The cold bitter taste of the beer, helped cool the burning fire inside him. He shouldn't have allowed it to go that far. Not with you.

X- He could argue that he barely knew you at all and he had to be careful, but he would be a lying bastard, wouldn't he?

X- When he saw you for the first time, absentmindedly looking through your mail, the animal inside him riled against the bars of his cage, demanding to consume you and possess you. It was overwhelming.

X- He had memorized everything about you: your routine, the music you liked based on what his sensitive ears heard, the way the corner of your eyes crumpled when you smiled, your scent, the sound of your voice, your dressing patterns...

X- He knew each time you went out and each time you brought a man with you. He hated every single one of them, he watched from afar with clenched fists and foam in the corners of his mouth, and desired nothing more than to rip those men to shreds with his claws.

X- He knew when you touched yourself, how poignant and musky your scent became, nearly driving him insane. How husky and soft your voice sounded when you moaned. Sometimes he found himself wishing it was his name you were calling in short breaths, sometimes he wished he was the one making you sigh in pleasure.

X- He was a dangerous man, unstable, full of rage and trauma, with many enemies who would do anything to get back at him. And besides, he was still hurting over Jean, he doubted he could open his heart to anybody else that wasn't that redhead. It was better this way.

X- So he vented his frustrations in alcohol, one night stands and bar fights. Claws unfolding when the treacherous thought of your delicate face came to mind. He had given you thousands of reasons to turn away from him, like the others.

X- Yet, there you were... Always with a smile, always with a nice word for him. If only you knew what he was, what he did, would you run away from him?

X- He couldn't afford this. This couldn't be for him, the closer you got the more dangerous it would be. This itch inside him that wouldn't let you go entirely was urging him to go across the hall and pound on your door until there were no more barriers between you two.

X-However, he knew, that the second he set foot on that corridor, all of his self control and restrain would be thrown out of the window. Even so, he still opened the door of his apartment.

[drasilfaemir]

SUN'S OUT TONGUE'S OUT

My entry for the Unsounded Fanworks Contest and tribute to the bestest girl Pantoffel! If you like it please give it a vote!

Edit: Holy shit you guys! I won?! Thanks to all who voted and hope you enjoyed it!

In the meantime, here are some detail photos and a breakdown of the work that went into making it under the cut, featuring the bestest boi and model, my pupper Sharky. Scroll to the end for a special treat!

The saddle is real leatherwork at a tiny scale. Everything patterned, wet-shaped, dyed, finished, and assembled by yours truly. The saddle blanket is custom-made to match as well. The seat of the saddle is stitched to the base just at the front and back to allow the pieces to move in relation to each other for a more comfortable fit.

The pommel and backrest are both modeled and 3D printed by yours truly as well, with sports tape for the fabric on the pommel. Both are attached using rivet backings set through hollow points in the prints.

From the back more detail can be seen for the backrest. It is wet-shaped and stretched over the base, and then flathead pins were cut short and turned into the tiniest nails to nail it in place. No glue was used at all in it's construction.

The collar was constructed so that it fit around Sharky's head and then the tension in the straps under his legs pulled it tight. Those straps are attached to loops placed in the stitching with lobster clasps. Much of the construction is hidden in his majestic chest fluff, but a good chunk of it can be seen here.

And now on to his co-star, Captain Emil Toma!

This was a Finn action figure that I did heavy modifications to. Original details were mostly sanded off for a vaguely person-shaped base thar I then sculpted details back onto with epoxy-putty. Even his face recieved a bit of shaping to change the underlying bone structure to match Emil better. All of the original joints still move save for his left wrist, which needed to be sealed in place lest his hand fall off. The gun the figure was holding was replaced by his sword. I decided to stick to mostly early/mid-comic designs, picturing this as a toy a Crescean kid might play with before the events of the comic take place.

From the back we can see the leather pouch which was hand-stitched together and attached with a rivet back. It's fully functional and can store approximately 4 quarters in it. The scabbard was 3D printed with a peg for attachment purposes and the parts that 'hold' it to the sash are clothing tags.

The sash itself is fabric and held in place with fashion tape. Edges were melted to seal them and then folded under to allow me more control over how they wrinkle. The badge is hand-sculpted from the same epoxy-putty used to modify the body. It's about as tall as my thumbnail and I have never wished for a resin printer more ardently than when I was sculpting it with a straight pin.

Proportionally the two of them are nearly perfect together! But, regrettably, the figure was too heavy to sit in the saddle on his own. Especially on a dog that can out-run a dalmatian! Hence why they were photoshopped together for the final image.

I hope you enjoyed this tour of the utter insanity that has been my free time for the last few months. I actually started this before the contest was announced...and through some setbacks and bad timing of life events still didn't get done until the last minute. As promised, here is your special treat!

[biancadoes1]

Hello! I've been in fandoms for over 20 years, and I honestly thought I'd seen it all. But then, while watching the promo tour for Bridgerton Season 3, I fell into the Polin rabbit hole. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was undeniable, and it hooked me in quickly. However, as I explored more of the fandom, I was surprised to see how toxic things could get.

In my previous fandoms, I shipped characters, not the actors portraying them—except for Harry and Louis from One Direction (and that experience brought its own share of hurt: matching tattoos, song lyrics, all those signs…we truly thought “Larry” was endgame). This fandom feels similar. Many fans wish Luke and Nic could be together in real life, but at what cost? Our own sanity?

Let’s be real: the odds of them being in a real-life relationship are incredibly slim. The obsession with “Easter eggs” that supposedly hint at something more? I’ve been down that road, and it’s unhealthy. Years have passed, and that Harry/Louis relationship confirmation we hoped for never came. I see the same patterns here with Luke and Nic, and it’s disappointing to see fans clinging to these little hints instead of simply enjoying the incredible work they put into their characters.

A critical point to consider: would anyone be comfortable with a 29-year-old dating a 16-year-old? Of course not. So why is it suddenly okay now, just because they’re older? When JD became legal in the UK at 16, Nicola was nearly 30—an adult, while he was still in his teens. Even now, he’s still significantly younger than she is. If she truly is dating someone this young, it’s disappointing. It brings into question the kind of person she actually is, and maybe that’s why many fans resist admitting she could be in a relationship with JD. It’s easier for fans to uphold the idea that Nicola is perfect than to accept that she might be making choices that don’t align with the values we thought she stood for.

Nicola has long appeared to be a woman of strong character who took charge of her career and made independent decisions. Ignoring what’s happening now could hurt her public image and even her integrity. It’s one thing to admire the professionalism and maturity she’s shown on screen and in interviews, but it’s another to look the other way when things don’t add up.

So, what would it take for fans to accept that she might actually be dating JD and not Luke? The recent photos of her with JD in a residential neighborhood, having dinner with no reason to expect paparazzi, seem like a pretty clear indication that this might be a real relationship. It’s time for fans to face the possibility that Nicola isn’t as flawless as we might want her to be.

Part of the reason we might all want Luke and Nic together is because they have undeniable chemistry. But maybe it’s also because Nicola doesn’t fit the stereotypical “attractive” mold that society pushes, and we like the idea of her getting the handsome, tall guy. It’s possible we’re projecting our own insecurities, hoping to manifest a romance between them—and that’s not fair to either of them.

And yes, as much as I’d love to see Luke and Nic together in real life, the truth is, they’re actors. Their job is to bring their characters to life so we want to watch the show, so they can succeed, gain visibility, and open doors to new acting opportunities. Maybe we haven’t considered that their chemistry is simply the result of them doing their jobs well. If they’ve done their part so convincingly that they’ve made fans believe in their on-screen romance, isn’t that proof of their talent as actors? They’ve played their roles beautifully, and it might be time to let that fantasy go.

If we don’t want to end up with heartbreak, frustration, and sleepless nights, it might be best to step back and enjoy Polin as they are in Bridgerton. Let’s appreciate Luke and Nic’s talent without digging into their personal lives. And where are all these so-called “anon experts” even coming from? The way they hype up every little “clue” is exhausting. For your own sanity, take a step back from the speculation—don’t put yourselves through what we Larry shippers went through.

For all of our sakes, let’s step back, enjoy the characters, and leave Luke and Nic’s personal lives out of it.

Thank you for your thoughts, anon.

But I disagree heavily on multiple points you make and that's fine.

I like to leave these topics open for thoughtful discussion.

[amhrosina]

matt would love this especially if frank and reader got it for him for a special occasion or just for fun!!

Spelling Out 'I Love You'

(Frank Castle x Reader x Matt Murdock)

Summary: It's Matt's birthday, and you and Frank make sure the day is extra special for him.

(Warnings: this is the fluffiest of all fluff pieces i've ever written, someone better be writing matt a healthy and happy relationship in dd born again!!!!!!!, i will RIOT if he has to be a sad boy for three seasons again!!!!)

A/N: Do y'all realize how hard it is to find pictures of frank where he's both smiling and not bruised up all over his face??? Nearly impossible!!! Anyways, I have no idea what those braille cookies say in the pictures, so I hope it's not something insane or rude lol enjoy this short ficlet!

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

“Did you get it?”  

Frank’s excitement overwhelmed his ability to say hello, apparently. You scoffed, shoving the box into Frank’s hands before pulling your gloves, hat, and scarf off. It was unreasonably chilly for October in New York City, and you were already tired of the cold weather.  

“Of course, I got it,” you grumbled, pretending the adoring expression on Frank’s face wasn’t thawing your icy mood rather quickly. 

“And you checked the translation, right? It’s accurate?” He opened the lid, checking the contents of the box. 

“Yeah,” you replied, shrugging your coat off, “It’s accurate. I checked it myself before they added the final touches.” 

“It looks great.” Frank nodded, briefly meeting your gaze before turning back toward the brownies. “Do you think he’ll like it?” 

You stepped into Frank’s arms, snuggling into his warmth. His chin found its home on the top of your head as you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent.  

“I think he’ll love it.” You murmured, glancing toward the clock on the wall. “He’ll be home any minute now.” 

Sure enough, the familiar scuff of Matt’s shoes on the floor announced his arrival ten minutes later, and you and Frank struggled to act casual when he stepped into the kitchen.  

“Hey, birthday boy.” You smiled, grasping one of his outstretched hands. Frank quickly grabbed his other hand, gently pulling Matt to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen. 

“Hey, old man.” Frank grinned, and Matt rolled his eyes. 

“You’re older than me, Frank.” Matt remarked, doing his best to not look too concerned at the sudden rush of affection from you and Frank. All three of you were touchy people, but it was usually in subtler ways. “What’s all this?” 

You and Frank couldn’t contain your excitement, pulling him toward the counter where his surprise was waiting to be opened. Frank gently set Matt’s hand down on the box. 

“Open it.” He encouraged, looking between your amused gaze and Matt’s unmoving hand. 

Matt slowly lifted the lid of the box, instantly overwhelmed with the sweet scent of chocolate and sugar. He smiled broadly, tapping the side of the box with the tips of his fingers. 

“You guys got me brownies?”  

“Yeah, but that’s not all.”  

You gently lifted his hand again and pushed it toward the top of the brownies, where little chocolate balls were arranged in an all too familiar pattern. Matt’s confused frown morphed into shock when he realized what you and Frank had done. He ran his fingers over the message a few times, gasping when he got to the end. He did it again, swallowing down the rush of emotions that were making their way up his throat. 

Written in braille, across his favorite type of brownies, was the message: 

“Happy Birthday. We love you.”  

“Oh.” He breathed, blinking away tears before they could be shed. “Oh, that’s lovely.” 

“Do you like it?” You asked, glancing toward Frank, who had a similar, hopeful expression on his face. 

Matt swallowed thickly, then swallowed again, nodding.  

“I love it.” He murmured as a shy smile overtook his face. “I’ve never gotten braille baked goods before.” 

“It was Frank’s idea.” 

“Careful, Frank.” Matt teased. “People might start to think you’ve gone soft.”  

Frank chuckled, cradling Matt’s head. “Let them.” He murmured before pressing his lips to Matt’s in a soft kiss.  

When they pulled away, noticeable tears had gathered under Matt’s eyes. You were quick to kiss them away. 

“We love you, Matty.” You breathed.  

Frank asked, “Do you want to open your presents now or after?” 

“After what?” Matt tilted his head. “Wait, there are more presents?” 

“You didn’t think this was it, did you?” You asked, smiling. 

“This is plenty.” Matt chuckled. “After what?” He asked again. 

Frank’s gaze turned molten, and you were sure Matt could feel the tension shifting in the air. “C’mon.” He pulled Matt toward the bedroom, tugging you along too. 

“There’s more?” He asked again to no one in particular. 

You giggled. “There’s so much more, Matty. You’re in for a long night. 

Tag List (1/2):

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @callsign-mama @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @alina02 @thedevilwearsblack @violet-19999 @shoxji @layazul @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter

[taylor-swift-imagines]

Pool party

Pairing: Taylor Swift x (female) reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @lilylovescruelsummer

A/N: You and Taylor share your first kiss while in a swimming pool

***

“It’s two in the morning and I think you’ve had enough of that, (Y/n).”

You snapped your head towards Selena as she was the one telling you this. Selena was taking care in making sure that everyone had a drink, but you know it yourself that you had one too many. But even still, you weren’t done yet, and you weren’t shy on telling her otherwise.

“It’s two in the morning and I think I haven’t had enough.” you snarl back.

Selena doesn’t say anything at first, but if annoyed her when she’s spoken to in this way by anyone. The two of you had actually dated in the past for quite sometime and had called it quits shortly after meeting Taylor Swift. Taylor was all over you and you were all over her, you almost couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. When it comes to those times when your in the mood for it, which was basically all the time, Taylor would not hesitate to whisk you away and pull you into a room for some privacy. Nothing serious had happened yet, but that doesn’t mean things never got intimate when it was you two alone.

You were a kind hearted gal, and Taylor loved that about you. Taylor respected your boundaries and comfort zone when the intimate times come up once again, she never rushed you and was always sure to be as gentle as she could, not wanting to hurt you in the process. Taylor was the champion, she knew how to make you feel good without taking things much further or all the way. Just thinking about it made your legs shake as the thought turns you on, same goes for Taylor. Taylor had always pictured herself to be on top, the one in charge and the one to be the more dominant other with you underneath her. Oh and did she love it, she loved being on top during intimate moments, that was enough for her to get started in making it about you. This next time, Taylor would be the more dominant one as if it was any different. As of now, you were both at a pool party, you’ve been invited by Selena, the party being hosted by Hayley Williams and Olivia Rodrigo.

Before attending the party, you had decided to put on a two piece bikini and it showed a lot of skin. Taylor always loved how smooth and soft your skin was at the light touch of her own hand, especially when her gentle hand finds your smooth, flat tummy and leaves it there until she begins tracing soothing patterns on it, making you lightly moan from time to time. Taylor’s hand remains there while her lips reach for your neck, the sweet spot on your neck. You took a spot on a chair, still thinking about it and how things would be at a halt when they begin to get any more heated. Taylor isn’t shy to make the first move and leans in close ear, sending chills as she whispers into it.

“You’re perfect, (Y/n). I need you to know that.”

Now it was your turn to say something.

“Y-you don’t know how much you mean to me.”

Now here you are, picking up a drink handed to you by Hayley who reluctantly hands it over in your grasp.

“Last one and I mean it, (Y/n).” Hayley says sternly.

You just rolled your eyes as you mutter a “thank you” and are about to take a drink from it when someone’s lands a hand on your shoulder from behind.

It was Taylor, of course!

It’s at that point she asks you for a swim and you couldn’t say no to her. As you follow, you couldn’t help but notice her swimwear is nearly identical to yours. Skin revealing and everything, which to you was perfect. Once in the pool, you allow Taylor to swim you over with her to the deep end before having to sit on the underwater bench. Taylor’s legs drifted apart only slightly before having you on her lap, basically sitting on her smooth bare legs. This was a moment you never wanted to end, and as your head falls back onto her chest, Taylor holding your waist and before you know it, you feel Taylor’s hand begin to rub your bare leg lightly, but you don’t do anything to stop her.

You didn’t want to stop her, but when you feel her hand slightly moving closer further up, you flinch and slightly pushed back. Taylor grew concerned that she may have hurt you in some way and begins asking questions.

“Did I hurt you?” She asked fondly.

You shake your head.

“What is it?”

“It’s just, um…”

“Was that too much for you, sweetie?”

“For now, yes. I’m not quite ready to go much further, especially not all the way completely. You’re not cat fault here, I promise.”

“My apologies if I’ve made you you uncomfortable-“

“You didn’t, not at all. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Whatever you want to do (Y/n), is fine with me.”

“Hold me?”

Taylor couldn’t hold back the smile as she engulfed you in a warming hug and holds you for as long as you need.

All the while as she looks into your eyes, she sees nothing else besides absolute true love Taylor herself. Taylor leans in until your lips connect in a loving yet passionate kiss. Kissing Taylor while in the swimming pool was about to become a story to tell. This was one of your many first kisses with Taylor, the love of your life.

Just a kiss.

***

@taylor-swift-imagines

[britcision]

So I’ve been having a lot of the Organizing AuDHD lately, where I sit and obsessively sort things for just, a zillion hours

Things like 8 years worth of photos on my hard drive, all of my leather-working and sewing supplies into tackle boxes, grouping and organizing all of the paints and all of our craft closets, and sorting 2 years of CSP materials

(Aaaaand fully resorting and folding 3/10 fabric bins instead of just grabbing the fabric I needed to get started on a thing this is not remotely happening at convenient times)

And yesterday

Yesterday, I got my Granny’s old sewing cart

This thing had stuff in it older than my Granny herself

(Also a good 30% of grandma smell is sheep’s wool guess how I know now)

I’m talking packets of “hook and eye attachments” older than the brand for Velcro

Genuine lambswool threads from Scotland

British military surplus linen thread

This pic is actually after I already spent about 2 hours just separating and bagging things it was worse than this but here she is

So, yeah. Perfect timing. Organizing AuDHD paradise

Dragged all my sewing stuff back to the main room to redo it all again (but y’see I was smart the first time I just sorted my threads and left a space cuz I knew this lil cutie was coming)

And

Well

I promised my partner I’d clear the floors in between every time, and he has kindly offered to sort buttons for me cuz he’s also got Button Sorting ‘Tisms

(The BAGS of old buttons you guys. So. Many. Buttons.)

But. Uh. Here’s what it looked like while I was going

Featuring: my sewing box, Granny’s sewing caddy, both craft dressers, and the noble residents of Box Hell, aka every reasonably well conditioned box I have emptied for 7 years now doing duty sorting objects

(Also the paper patterns I was drafting onto broadcloth for cosplay but shhhh those are nearly done and super neat and out of the way)

And! And!

Four hours later, look!

All tidied away (for now)

I have officially sorted and rolled all of the ribbons (hers and mine)

I also discovered that that fucking massive cone of elastic does not in fact have a single fucking post in the middle there’s a tiny cardboard one that ends half way up and then it’s just a roll of PAPER

(That slid out while I unspooled about half of it to fix where the loops had been slipping off to coil it neatly again. It’s also at least two lengths of elastic but fuck it it’s in a cup now)

And! That little front drawer has been fully sorted and now holds the elastic, velcro, and zippers 😁

Most of the stuff from the main body of the caddy is at least sorted by types now, so the threads are all together and the snaps and hook and eyes all have baggies, but I haven’t touched the top two bits yet and I still gotta sort them baggies

But! I think I’ve found all the elastics and velcro and zippers! And ribbons!

And all the proper actual wool and nylons have their own bag because some of that shit feels like historical artefacts or something and I shouldn’t actually use it and just preserve it or something

It’s in really good condition and I’m a lil scared I’ll ruin it somehow and most of the ribbons are real silk and it’s just. Holy shit.

It’s so old

[000marie198]

There is another artistically incredible thing I noticed abt the first Httyd movie.

The movie, it's from Hiccup's perspective. And it conveys his perspective throughout, in details both subtle and clear.

Like the Book of Dragons clip; Chilling and terrific with sound effects and feels induced exactly as Hiccup was imagining it. That scene alone gives me the shivers and the way it ends on Night Fury (I absolutely love the fear inducing Night Fury theme from the first movie). I've been noticing that every single piece of score fit the emotions and situation Hiccup was in, affirming his perspective, his experiences, conveyed through the movie as if they were the viewers' own. And that scene when Hiccup is listening to his father speak just before entering the arena to face Hookfang, the way the lighting and expressions and sound of Stoick's voice was set apart from everything and felt resonated, Hiccup's dread and anticipation and anxiety and worry and fear were palpable. He was planning to do the exact opposite of what his father, the one he's been trying to make proud his entire life, was hoping and oof that few seconds HURT!

And with how the background score and scenes were animated so splendidly, there's one very subtle but greatly well integrated detail I just have to mention

If we take a note of all the dragons throughout the movie, there's a gradual pattern. The movie starts and every dragon looks wild and dangerous and animalistic. Beastly and emotionless, except for displaying an urge to cause harm or look vicious.

Aside from Hookfang. Every other dragon didn't look nearly as expressive and clear in intention as Hookfang did. And if you notice, he was the only dragon in the beginning of the movie whom Hiccup made a direct encounter with and sassed at. We saw Hookfang being angry and vicious and even worried and scared when he ran out of firepower and got captured, he seemed to display emotions more clearly than any other dragon. But he was also the only dragon so far Hiccup had a direct communicative encounter with. The movie is from Hiccup's perspective and we saw Hookfang from Hiccup's perspective.

But! It gets better. If you notice or think about it, try to remember the details in the movie with respect to the dragons, all the dragons earlier on looked wild and deadly and nothing else. Just wild and dangerous and vicious, the opinion every viking has on them, the opinion Hiccup during those earlier moments had on them.

But then he met Toothless. And it all began to change. Notice how the dragons seem to become more and more expressive and emotionally intelligent or humanly as Hiccup and Toothless' friendship proceeds to grow. How the snappy Terrible Terrors would gradually start to look like small little dragons who are mischievous and naughty and silly little guys, how the quick and swift Deadly Nadder started to look like a playful and curious friend, how the once sneaky and scary Zippleback who seemed to set it's target on everyone and everything became expressive and displayed worry and fear, how the powerful and dangerous Gronkle gradually started to look more kind and friendly and sleepy etc.

This happened with literally every single dragon during the movie. The more Hiccup began to understand them and got closer to Toothless and realized they are living beings who have individual personalities and feelings and are misunderstood, the more these mighty creatures felt more alive and expressive to the viewers. And this was done without the slightest change in the dragons' models or designs. They conveyed Hiccup's perspective splendidly throughout the movie.

Point in case;

Httyd 1 is a cinematic masterpiece

[junijunijune]

Edging | Harness | Oviposition

Kinktober 2024

Human/Naga (unnamed characters) bratty sub, edging, established relationship, monster fucking, laughing during sex, bondage Oneshot | 2829 words

She twisted a little against the tie. The rope harness was tied around her body in a complicated collection of loops and knots. It was beautiful and it kept her hands trapped behind her. She was good with knots and she was good with locks but the knots had been tied, prominently and simply so the trailing string of the rope hung between her bare breasts. It was a tease. A very easily untied knot where she could see every loop but couldn’t reach to do anything about it.

He watched her struggle, his strange slit pupil dilating in interest. He was human from the waist up and very much not from the waist down. The scales did run up his back and down his arms. He bit his lip very gentle with sharp fangs as he watched her squirm. She’d let a monster strip her down and tie her up and he was making sure that she had time to think about it.

He was hers. He wasn’t some dangerous creature. But still, sometimes the strangeness of him hit her all at once. The long looping snake’s tail with its white and gold diamond pattern. The forked tongue. The sharp teeth that sometimes slipped out so they were nearly as long as her finger.

“Should I untie it?” he asked playing with one of the ends.

He waited her out. She was stubborn and he knew that making her admit how badly she wanted something like this would embarrass the hell out of her. A smile played across his lips.

“If you’re uncomfortable, just say the word.”

She shifted again, feeling the rope slide along her skin but not give. It had taken a long time to tie and she hadn’t complained or gotten up during any of it. They’d talked and laughed but now that it was done, the sense of vulnerability hit her hard. She looked up at him and he was still smiling at her.

“Or we can leave it.”

She swallowed hard and said, “Leave it.”

“Good choice.”

He grabbed her ankle and pulled her forward which unbalanced her. She had been sitting up on the bed and in one movement he knocked her flat on her back. The loose ends of the rope trailed against her stomach, reminding her of the option to get out of it. She was completely naked and he wasn’t. He stroked from her ankle, up her calf and along her inner thigh. Anticipation built in her stomach but he didn’t touch her where she expected. Instead he rubbed his palm against her belly while she watched his face.

“This is going to take awhile, darling.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you begging for it before we’re done.”

She laughed at him. It was a little breathless because she was in a very vulnerable position but still, he could tie her up but she wasn’t going to beg for anything.

He slipped two fingers into her very wet cunt and she gasped. He thrust gently, back and forth, stroking

“You’ll see, love, you won’t last.”

“I’m not begging. If you want to fuck me, you can fuck me. It’s not like I can stop you.”

“You can say a single word and I will stop.”

He stroked his fingers in and out of her as he stopped and she shut her eyes and let her head fall back rather than answer that. She did not want him to stop. He rubbed her casually, slowly, warming her up and making her murmur happy little noises. She forgot a few times that her hands were trapped behind her and tried to reach for him. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to her clit. She moaned and spread her legs wider for him. She arched up into those fingers and his lips and moaned. The orgasm built in her stomach and he pulled back all at once.

She gasped and bucked her hips, trying to get the contact back. He pushed her down with both hands on her hips.

“What did you want?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Say please.”

She frowned at him. “This is the game?”

“This is the game. You can say please and beg me for it whenever you like. You’ll have to beg very prettily because that, little frustrated gasping moaning struggling thing? Very very nice. I could watch you do that for hours so you’re going to have to make begging more appealing than that particular show.”

“I’m not going to beg for you.”

“You are. And when you do, I’m going to make it the greatest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. Now, roll over.”

She did that. It was easier to roll over than to argue with his ironclad confidence that she would beg for an orgasm. She couldn’t hold herself up once she was lying on her stomach, her only option was flat on her belly with her face pressed into the mattress. He pulled her hips up and that made the position more helpless. He checked in and she stubbornly insisted that she was fine.

He slid his cock into her. She was still close the first orgasm and it did not take long at that angle to have her at the edge of the orgasm again. She cried out when he pulled out of her. She shifted and stretched and worked her hips back against the empty air and his strong hands.

“What do you want?”

“Some satisfaction.”

“Not badly enough, it seems.”

He manhandled her, pulled her up and then laid her out in a new position so he could put his cock in her mouth. He had two of the damn things and he had never come from a blow job but a contrarian part of her wanted to force an orgasm out of him early. Give him a taste of his own medicine. She sucked his cock into her mouth, taking it deep and sucking on it hard.

“Very good,” he praised her.

He let her take control or as much control as she could take lying on her back with her hands bound up in a rope harness. He praised her and pet her face and her breasts while she sucked. Then his hand slid down her body and he pressed his fingers to her clit. He rubbed her to the edge of another orgasm, making her scream with his cock in her throat.

“Good girl,” he said.

He kept his cock there as his fingers abandoned her on another edge. He switched cocks so neither of them got too overstimulated. She wasn’t going to be able to make him come like this. He dragged her to the edge again before he finally slid out of her mouth and leaned down over the bed so they were nose to nose.

“Hi,” he said with an expectant smile. She scowled at him.

“Please,” she said.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck off.”

A bark of laughter that she couldn’t help but answer with her own. For a moment they were both giggling even as her wetness dripped out of her. She felt spacey and more submissive than she was usually capable of.

He pulled her up off the bed and positioned her so she was straddling his cock. She knew better than to think this would give her an edge. He lined her up and pushed her down so she sank down onto his cock. She cried out in relief at the sensation of being full. He let her ride him at her own rhythm. It was jerky and desperate. She had trouble balancing without her hands and she wanted it so badly, that it was hard to put any effort into technique or style. That desperate rhythm fell apart into needy humping very quickly.

“Beg,” he said.

“No.”

“Then stop.”

He didn’t give her the option to refuse. He was stronger than her and he picked her up with his arm around her waist and just pulled her off of him while she struggled and whined into his shoulder.

“Beg and I’ll give you everything you want.”

“I want to have an orgasm, you dick,” she said.

“I want to fill you up.”

“Of course you do,” she said. A human could host a clutch of Naga eggs but the eggs would need to be fertilised by a second Naga. He just had a breeding kink that she had been shutting down. “Gooey snake egg fetish weirdo.”

“Monster fucking freak,” he shot back.

That set them both off into another cascade of laughter.

“Slut,” he said.

“Kinky bastard,” she said.

“I take that as a compliment," he said happily running a finger along the rope harness.

“Isn’t it monster-fucking-freak territory for you to fuck humans?”

“No. You’re a breeding host. Perfectly respectable.”

“You don’t fuck me because I’m a breeding host. This isn’t some god-honouring child-bearing sex for good little boys and girls. You fuck me because you’re a kinky bastard.”

“No, I fuck you because I love you,” he said.

He grabbed the knot of ropes on her chest and used them to yank her upwards and kiss her. She melted into it. He held her close as he rolled her onto her back and slid into her again. She gasped into his mouth and he kissed her through the entire fuck. When she was right on the edge of an orgasm, he pulled back again, sliding out of her and holding her close as she whined into his mouth.

“Also because you make the cutest noises,” he said.

She’d forgotten the conversation they’d been having about monster fucking freaks and just laughed as she buried her face in his neck.

“Do you want to have an orgasm?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding fervently into his chest.

He reached down and rubbed her clit with two fingers. She felt over sensitive and the touch made her moan and hold him tighter.

“Enough to let me fill your belly?”

She knew that it wouldn’t hurt her. There wouldn’t be any children. The only reason to say no was because it was gross. It grossed her out to think about the enzymes or whatever the fuck it was that relaxed the muscles so each egg popped in past the cervix and the tissues didn’t tear as the belly expanded. She would pass the eggs and the same whatever the fuck magic or biochemistry or whatever would have her body returning to normal.

She looked up at him. He was really turned on by the idea. He’d been dropping hints about it for weeks. Kinky bastard. It wouldn’t hurt her. She could handle it. He really, really wanted it.

“Yes,” she said.

A blink.

“Fill me up. Maybe I’ll like it,” she said.

He licked his lips, obviously far more interested in the idea than he wanted to let on.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He rubbed her stomach. He readjusted her knees so the position gave him a very clear view of her spread out on her back before him. He even grabbed a pillow and set it up so she could see it too. It was just a little nervous and over eager. The confident dominant demanding that she beg was replaced by a half smile and eager hands stroking her belly.

She almost wanted to flip the script and demand he beg but she was half delirious with arousal from the edging and as soon as he slid his cock in, all other thoughts fled. She let her head fall back as he set up a hard rhythm.

He was bigger and stronger than her and was usually very careful with that but arousal made him stupid and he was fucking hard. She was turned on enough that every thrust made her moan and push her hips up to meet his. There would be bruises in the morning but that was the morning’s problem. In the moment, it was incredible. His cock expanded or flexed or did some complicated Naga thing deep inside her and she cried out. The sense of relaxation flowed through her. Magic biochemical muscle relaxant stuff flooded up into her womb and her whole body melted for him.

“You’re perfect. Just like that,” he said.

The second cock was thicker and harder as he switched them out and fucked her again. The relaxant made her more aroused but the orgasm felt far away. She needed it and she was desperate for it but the edges of the world had gotten soft. The harder thicker cock seemed to slide deeper. Her body yielded to it in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. He had never disappeared entirely inside her but when she looked down, his body was flush with hers and the scales of his lower belly rubbed against her clit, sending shivers of pleasure with every thrust.

A rush of desperation hit her. Desperation for the orgasm but also for the breeding. She wanted him to fill her up. Close on the heels of that, under it all was a deep emotional need. If she wasn’t too many edges in, she would have pretended it wasn’t there. Instead, it came out as a question.

“You’re mine, right? It’s not just a kink?” she asked.

“I love you,” he said with a kiss. He was so deep inside her that it shouldn’t have been possible. “I love you and I’m all yours. I’m not going anywhere, you’re stuck with me.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he repeated.

“Fill me up.”

“Say please.”

“Please,” she said immediately and then amended, “Fuck you.” That attempt at bratty bravado died almost as soon as it was out of her mouth and she was back to begging, “Please.”

“I will fuck you. Since you asked so nicely.”

He thrust into her, leaning down so they were nose to nose and he could kiss her each time she gasped or struggled. She came first. She arched and cried out his name and he fucked her through the orgasm. Kissed her through the orgasm, pet her hair and didn’t stop. He pulled back while she was still shuddering with aftershocks. She looked up at him, panting and almost annoyed that he had been right about how good the orgasm was.

He stroked her stomach as he made his last few thrusts and then she felt his cock swell. He was seated unnaturally deep in her but the first press of an egg didn’t show. Her body shuddered with the stretch and weight of it settling inside her. She moaned and he reached down to rub her clit and drag another orgasm out of her as the he laid the next one inside her.

“Keep going, love, you can take it,” he told her.

She was panting through the third orgasm by the time her belly started to swell. He rubbed her stretched skin and her body resgistered that as pleasure too and sent another orgasm rippling through her. He grunted and thrust even deeper into her. She watched the mass in her stomach shift at the intrusion. The next egg was pushed in past her cervix and joined the others.

“We’re going to do the real thing one day.”

“If you put ten children in me, I will murder you.”

“Twenty five or thirty, easy.”

“No.”

“That was thirteen,” he said with another thrust into her.

“Not a baby, just an egg.”

“Someday, though.”

“Thirty children is an overcrowded inner city classroom, not a family,” she said.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her. “We can do it the human way then. You and I though? I want to meet that baby.”

“Give me ten years and a million dollars and we can talk.”

“Done.”

He said it like a promise but she laughed like it was a joke and pulled him down for a kiss as he kept pushing more eggs into her womb. He filled her up so her belly was stretched out tight and taut and round and thrust to a final moaning orgasm that filled her with something thick and hardening, sealing the eggs inside. It wouldn’t last long. Not with them unfertilized. For the moment, she was stretched and fucked to the point where she couldn’t have stood if the building was on fire. The plug keeping everything inside felt too large and it rubbed against sensitive places when she shifted.

He untied her, unwound the rope harness with the same careful methodical attention he had used when he’d put it on. His hands kept straying down to rub her distended stomach full of empty gooey snake eggs. His contented smile and gentle hands made her keep the comment about gooey snake eggs to herself. He was very very happy and once her body was free, he looped himself around her and pulled her in against his chest. He kissed her neck and wrapped his tail around her.

“Happy?” she asked.

“Yes, are you?”

The contrarian asshole that lived in her soul wanted to lie but instead she told him the truth, “Yeah, I’m happy.”

The intention is that I'll eventually edit these up to go on an AO3 page. But for the moment, unedited and thrown onto an empty tumblr account it goes.

[666writingcafe]

An Emergency

MC

The sound of water running greets Mammon and I when we return to Serenity Manor, which wouldn't be so unusual if it weren't for the living room ceiling beginning to show signs of leakage.

"What room's above this one?" I ask. Mammon stares at the ceiling, appearing contemplative.

"Asmo's bathroom." As soon as he answers me, he begins running towards the stairs, and I struggle a bit to keep up with him. I catch up to him as he's loudly banging on Asmo's door.

"Yo, Asmo! What's goin' on in there?" he yells. "There's a buncha water leakin' into the room below your bath!"

Silence.

"Alright, you had your chance! We're goin' in!" Mammon nearly throws the door open, spilling water out into the hallway.

Not that Asmo would know. He's completely passed out, his body slumped over the edge of the tub.

"Asmo!" Any anger Mammon may have felt before is now replaced with total, unbridled fear. "MC, turn off that water!"

Once done, I kneel next to Asmo and touch his shoulder. I may not be able to fix the bathroom or the leak, but I can at least help him feel better.

"May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated," I murmur. "I am the one they call MC; hear my command." White light emanates from the hand touching his shoulder, and within moments Asmo is conscious again.

"What happened?" he whispers to me.

"That's what I'd like to know!" Mammon exclaims before I can answer, walking over to the two of us. "Seriously, Asmo, what were you thinking, walkin' around in this state?! You're lucky me and MC came when we did, or you coulda died in here!"

I don't think I've ever seen Mammon like this, genuinely terrified over someone else's safety. I knew that he cared about his brothers, don't get me wrong, but I had no idea it went this deep.

"I...I don't know." Meanwhile, Asmo sounds like a lost, disoriented child. "I remember waking up incredibly sore and thinking that a bath might help me feel better, but as I was getting in the tub, I felt really dizzy all of a sudden, and..." He takes a deep breath, trying hard not to cry.

"It's okay, Asmo," Mammon tells him. "I'm not mad at ya. Just worried, that's all." He pauses. "Do you want me to get Lucifer?" Asmo shakes his head.

"He's still asleep. I don't want to disturb him." Mammon gently pats his shoulder before turning his attention back to me.

"Get Asmo back in bed," he instructs. "I'll take care of the rest."

~~~

Once I've made sure Asmo's sound asleep, I quietly leave his bedroom. There's not much more I can do in there at the moment, and Mammon might need some help cleaning up.

However, as soon as I turn the corner, I bump into someone.

"Hello, MC."

Solomon?

I didn't hear him come in, and I'm sure someone would have caught him earlier. If not Mammon, then one of the other brothers at the very least.

Except...

His energy's different. Living with Solomon has exposed me to his various moods, and this isn't one of them.

"Who are you?" Not-Solomon smiles.

"Very good," he replies, not answering my question. "You're further along than I was led to believe."

"Answer my question."

"In due time. Just know that I mean you no harm."

"What do you want?" He steps closer to me, and I step back.

"Fair enough," Not-Solomon sighs. "You don't know whether I'm telling the truth or not." He pauses. "The future of one of your closest companions is uncertain. He's standing at a crossroads, so to speak. He can choose to remain as he is or change into something different. He needs your help to decide."

He's being serious.

I should turn away and find Mammon.

But I can't.

"Who?"

"I cannot say outright. That would negatively affect his future. I can, however, help guide you."

"How?"

"By allowing you to observe the past. History often repeats itself, and it's our job to find those patterns and learn from them, use them to inform our future decisions."

He could be luring me into a trap. If I do as he says, I might end up dead.

Not-Solomon extends his hand out to me.

I'm willing to take the risk.