#grab your palate cleanser!

[crazykuroneko]

Every body is one of a kind

[repulsiveliquidation]

Time Difference

Switch! Alexia Putellas x Bottom! Leah Williamson x Top! Reader

Part 2 of Time Consuming

word count : 4k

warnings : none? fluffier that usual lol have fun. I will say I’m not the happiest with this one but no one’s perfect.

“Fuck, Y/N!” yelled Leah, fingers pumping out of her pussy frantically as she fucked herself on the phone with you and Alexia. You were holding Alexia in your arms, legs hooked over hers to keep her legs open as your fingers pumped in and out of her at the same time.

Laptop propped up at the foot of the bed, Alexia squirmed and moaned loudly. Her legs fought yours, wanting so badly to close off and kick up in pleasure. You were stronger, pinning her legs open wide for Leah to watch. Leah was listening more than watching, her headphones on as you and Ale shared one each. The mics picked up EVERYTHING. Every little whine, every dirty word you said to Alexia, you were saying to Leah. She heard the sloppy squelch of Alexia’s pussy, her wet mess echoing into each earpiece.

Alexia was keening, hands grabbing the sheets that looked close to ripping. Leah threw her head back with a loud thud, lips begging for you to let her cum. Alexia began to beg too, tears brimming in her eyes. They fell, her chest heaving as she held her orgasm back.

“Leah, eyes on Alexia,” you instructed, leaning into Alexia’s ear.

“Look at her, Ale. Doesn’t our girl look so pretty?” Alexia nods frantically, your free hand wrapping around her neck. She whined loudly, melting back into your arms. She was trembling hard now, Leah’s eyes and hers locked onto each other.

“Doesn’t Ale look so sexy, Lee? She’s trembling so.” Leah huffed frustratedly, her three fingers grazing over her sweet spot as her other hand fondled her swollen clit. She couldn’t hold on for much longer, lips begging once again for her well-earned release.

“Cum.” You said deeply, both of them letting go and reaching their mind-numbing highs. The hand around Alexia’s neck tightened, her body shuddering deeply as her eyes sunk back into her head. You looked at the laptop, grinning maniacally when you saw that Leah too had her hand around her neck. Leah pulled her fingers out of herself just as you did Ale, desperately taking deep breaths to calm down. You kiss Alexia’s damp hair, rubbing your palms over her rigid thighs.

“Leah darling, you with me?” you ask, pulling Ale into your lap how she liked. She was always needier after sex, wanting to be close to either one of you after she came. You pull the laptop closer, softly rubbing Alexia’s back as Leah sits up with a dazed look on her face.

“Leah?”

“Mm…”

“Talk to me.”

Alexia began to softly kiss your neck, your hands softly squeezing her ass. She giggled, pressing more kisses on your neck.

“I’m good, still here.”

“Good girl, have you got that bottle of water nearby like I asked?”

“Yes.”

“Have half, please?”

You reach over and grab one that you had over on the nightstand, opening it for Alexia. She quietly sipped, turning back around to face the camera to talk to Leah.

“You okay, Lee?” she asked softly, leaning back into your arms.

Leah nods, laying back on her bed. She started to giggle, setting a slight orgasm high Ale into a fit of giggles. You laugh too, resting your chin on Alexia’s shoulder as the giggling turns into full-blown laughter. You’re wiping away tears, looking at Leah with fond eyes.

“Lee? Bath time, yeah? We can set the laptop up like last time if you want.”

She sits up, palm holding her head up.

“Yes please.”

//

“No, Leah! You can’t be serious!”

“She stole my smiley potatoes! Right off my plate!”

“That doesn’t warrant extra laps at training!”

“Katie McCabe deserved it.”

“You need a palate cleanser. Our freezer only has those unhealthy things because we love you.”

The bathroom echoes with laughter, both you and Alexia sunken in the bath as Leah did the same over in London. Alexia caught the sad flicker in Leah’s eyes when she felt your lips kiss her neck softly in the bath.

“Lee,” the Barça captain called, “I miss you.”

You stop your kisses, looking at the screen. Leah looked like she was about to cry.

“Couple more days, baby. We miss you so much. It’s not the same without you here, yeah?”

Leah smiled, and both you and Alexia smiled back sighing happily.

“Alright girls, bedtime. Any longer in the bath, we’d have soaked up more water than our bodies need.”

//

“Did you seriously make a sign for her, Ale?”

“Hey, my girlfriend is coming from England to my home, I don’t want her getting lost.”

“Ale, she’s here every other week.”

“And I’ve lived here my whole life, I still get lost! I don’t want Leah to.”

“I saw your sign clear as day, Ale. Won’t get lost, I promise.”

Alexia looked towards the direction of that voice, ending the argument she was having with Lucy. You were already engulfing Leah in a big hug, her bags forgotten to the side. Alexia hugged the both of you, kissing Leah’s forehead softly. You pull back, grabbing her face and kissing her softly. Alexia was next, giving Leah a tight hug before pecking her lips gently. She whispered, “Missed you,” taking her bag and her hand, walking ahead of you. Lucy and Kiera hugged their national teammate, walking with Leah’s other bags towards your car.

All loaded up, you drove back into town for lunch with the team. Everyone had gotten to know Leah better since she started dating you and Ale, having already known her from the years of playing together it was a seamless transition.

The restaurant was buzzing, having blocked off a section for a little privacy. Everyone welcomed Leah with open arms, never making her feel out of place. Alexia was a little protective of Leah, her arm wrapped around her shoulders the whole time. María was in deep conversation with her, Ingrid listening very intently to your girlfriend talking about football. You had your hand resting on Alexia’s thigh, Leah’s hand holding yours as you chatted with the girls. The food was delicious, and everyone added this new place to the roster of approved team bonding locations. Leah, the defender with the palate of a 5-year-old, still managed to get her fix of a bland chicken sandwich this time.

Waving goodbye, the three of you decided to take a walk in the park nearby. Alexia suggested getting ice cream, stating that she knew a little hidden spot where she used to go as a child. After securing three large cones with very different flavor choices (a/n I stand by my statement earlier, mint chocolate chip is the best flavor, and if I hear a PEEP about it being like toothpaste istg.)

Slurping the rapidly melting cones, the warm Barcelona afternoon brought a gentle breeze that was cooling. Kids were playing on the swings, another group of them kicking around a football. Alexia’s eyes shone with a glint of hope, her fingers tapping on her knee, anxiously wanting to ask you both a question.

“Can we play?”

You look at her a little surprised. Leah stops trying to shove the last bit of her ice cream cone into her mouth when it clearly won’t fit.

“Play what?” you ask, looking towards where she’s looking. You smile, Leah rejoices beside you, successfully shoving the cone into her mouth. You look at her and shake your head, she smiles messily.

“Want to challenge them to a three vs. however many?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

Quickly finishing the last bits of your ice cream, you walk over to the group of boys playing football. You notice that one girl is trying to play with them, looking about 8 years old, and is being told to go away. Leah gives you a look, and you reciprocate, Alexia already over there challenging the boys to a match. They immediately start shit-talking when the little girl comes over and tugs at your shirt.

“Hola, Soy Y/N. ¿Cómo te llamas?”

“María.” Alexia walks over with Leah following her. She bends down to the little girl's height.

"Mi mejor amiga se llama María, es muy buena en el fútbol. ¿Lo estás?”

“Sí!”

“Want to be on our team then?” Leah asks with her hands on her hips. María nods deftly, joining the three of you in the middle.

"¿Ustedes están listos para perder?"

//

After scoring about 15 to nothing, the boys begged Alexia to let them leave. She did eventually, with a warning to let everyone who wanted to be able to play football. María pulls a woman over to you, jumping up excitedly.

“They let me play, Mama!”

Her mother looks at you three with a smile, her smile suddenly turning into a little shock. She kneels beside María, a knowing smile on her face.

“Do you know who these chicas are, bebé? That’s Y/N L/N, Leah Williamson, and Alexia Putellas.”

María takes a good look at Alexia. She lights up, jumping up and down again, barreling into Alexia for a hug. Alexia laughs and gives her a tight hug, picking her up into her arms.

“You’re my favorite player ever, Alexia,” María tells her, mumbling her little confession into her neck. Alexia visibly melts, putting María down gently.

“You’re my favorite bebita, you were so good today.”

After signing her shirt and getting a picture, María gleefully bounded home with her mother. Alexia looked extremely pleased, noticing the lovesick smiles you and Leah had on your faces.

“You’re so good with kids,” Leah tells her, holding her hand as you take her other.

“It was hot babe, you’re a natural,” you say, rubbing her forearm softly.

She blushes, face going very visibly red. She lets go of both your hands, running to the car.

You catch her, hugging her tight. Leah grabs her face and kisses her, their lips moving slowly together. Alexia pulls away from Leah and turns to face you, kissing you the same way. The sun was setting, a soft orange hue all around you. It was the perfect day, Alexia’s hands taking one of yours and one of Leah’s. She whispers, pulling Leah closer only for the two of you to hear.

“Please take me home.”

//

Shoving the key into the lock was the most frustrating thing to do and it always seemed to be the hardest task when you’re sexually frustrated and need to get inside QUICK. Leah was kissing Alexia in the hallway, knee already between her legs as Alexia ground down on her.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, finally!”

Rushing in, the two girls almost run inside, clothes strewn everywhere. They were naked when they got to the bedroom, you were kicking off your pants and had your fingers on your hips to pull your underwear down. They’re making out like their lives depended on it, Ale flipping Leah over onto her back. She looked a little uncertain, more used to being in Leah’s position. Leah looked unfazed, fondly gazing up at Alexia. She looked back at you like a deer in headlights, beginning to scoot back off of Leah. Leah grabs her hand and opens her mouth before you can, voice as affectionate as she could. A voice she reserved for Alexia and you.

“Do what feels right, baby.”

Alexia looked down at her, eyes softening before filling with determination. She nods, crashing her lips onto Leah’s. You climb onto the bed, hands immediately finding Alexia’s waist. You settle behind Alexia as she leans back into you. She’s straddling Leah, Leah caresses her hips and thighs with the same loving smile on her face.

“Do you maybe want to try fucking her, sweetheart? She’d look so pretty on your cock,” you ask Alexia as Leah’s hands find yours and intertwine on Alexia’s thighs. Alexia’s eyes change, and her big hands (a/n everyone’s seen the TikTok by now lol) grasp Leah’s small waist. She leans down, kissing up Leah’s chest. Her voice turns sultry, mere decibels above a whisper.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Leah? I haven’t had your pussy in a while, bebita.”

Leah keens, nodding her head softly as her lips beg Alexia for her cock. Alexia smiles, looking back at you for approval.

“She’s all yours, darling. Did you want me to do anything?”

Alexia has that deer-in-the-headlights look again as she reaches into the drawer for her rarely used strap. She smiles wide before nodding, clambering back onto the bed between Leah’s legs.

“Want you to hold Leah like you hold me when we’re on the phone with her. I think she deserves to know how good it feels.”

Alexia leans in for a kiss, lips locked in deep. Your hands find their place on Leah’s breasts, kneading them hard as Alexia moves her lips lower to your neck. You groan as your fingers flick over Leah’s hardened nipples. Alexia pulls away breathlessly, biting her lip as she settles between Leah’s legs. You too sit back and pull Leah between your legs, holding her down the same way she saw you do to Alexia. You brush her baby hair out of her face, kissing her softly. Alexia begins to slowly drag her nails down Leah’s abs, kissing softly at the England captain's skin.

Alexia bites dark hickeys all over her chest as your hands caress and fondle her breasts. Your legs have locked Leah’s in place as she squirms all over the place. Alexia suddenly turns stern and slaps her thigh, her captain's voice low and serious.

“Don’t move.”

Leah nods softly and stops her squirming, an impressed look on your face paired with a proud smile. Alexia looks up at you again for approval, you give her a nod and an encouraging smile that Leah whines at.

“J-Just fuck me already…!”

“Don’t ask me, love. Ask Ale. I’m sure she’ll say yes if you say please.”

“Please Ale, fuck me!”

“Not yet, cariño. I want to taste you first.”

Alexia dives in, licking at Leah’s core hard and fast. It makes Leah struggle and whine, the defender putting up a valiant fight to get out of your hold. You’re again stronger, pinning her down for Alexia to devour.

Alexia spreads Leah open nicely, giving you an enticing view of Leah’s glistening folds and her tongue that flicks lazily over her clit. Leah cries out for Alexia, to which she coos and drags her fingers over the English woman’s folds.

A finger pushes itself in slowly, Alexia’s lips tight around Leah’s clit. She sucks and sucks and sucks, finger pumping in and out of her rhythmically. One very quickly becomes three, fingertips dragging over her spot hard and fast. Leah has flashbacks to the other night, when she witnessed your fingers inside Alexia doing the same thing to her. Leah grabs the sheets, just like Alexia did, crying out to both of you begging to cum.

“You’re so wet, cariño. Were you this wet when we were on the phone that night? I think so, you sound the same. Such noisy squelching, wasn’t it Y/N?”

“Yes, she does sound the same. Do you like Alexia’s fingers, Leah? Tell her.” you whisper the last bit into Leah’s ear, hands caressing her abs gently.

“I-I love your fingers, Ale!”

“Sí bebita, you’re getting so close to coming no?”

“Please, please!”

“Can she come, Y/N?”

Leah groans hoarsely, looking up at you desperately holding back her orgasm. You nod curtly and Leah lets go. She comes hard, thighs quivering and convulsing as you slowly release her from your hold. Alexia’s fingers are relentless, helping Leah ride out her orgasm.

She pulls them out once Leah calms and begins to wince, shoving them straight into her mouth. She sucks them clean as you and Leah watch, your fingers dipping briefly between Leah’s legs to have a taste of your own. Leah moans loudly, eyes flickering between you and Alexia, unable to decide who will be the death of her.

Alexia leans over to kiss you again, the taste of Leah strong on both your tongues. She pulls away, crashing her lips on Leah’s softly.

“You’re so delicious, mi cielo. Ready for my cock, sí?”

“Fuck Ale, please…”

Alexia helps Leah move in the middle of the bed. You sit on the side, watching them carefully. It had been a while since Alexia topped last, preferring to be treated like the pillow princess she was. You and Leah were more than happy to indulge her, giving her what she needed since her job and responsibilities often stressed her out. You could feel that she was slightly nervous about fucking Leah, afraid that her lack of practice would make her a bad fuck. You immediately sat beside her, giving her tummy a little rub that she liked.

“Don’t need to be nervous, you’ll be great.” Leah caressed her thighs gently, smiling up at her.

“Hurry up and fuck me good, yeah?” Alexia lines herself up with Leah, teasing the tip in gently before filling Leah in one smooth motion. Leah choked slightly at the sudden intrusion, grasping onto Alexia’s thighs tightly.

Leah hiked her legs back and with the help of Alexia, had them pressed deep and wide. Alexia’s whole cock slipped in and out of the with deep strokes, your praises in Alexia’s ear spurring her on. Filthy phrases left your lips and into Alexia’s ear, breaking her down right with Leah. Her hips never once faltered though, obediently pounding into Leah’s sloppy pussy.

Your fingers shoved themselves into Alexia’s mouth with orders to suck; once wet they found themselves between your legs to swipe through your soaked folds. Slipping two wet fingers into yourself, you chased your high as Leah and Alexia watched shamelessly. Alexia’s thrusts began to slow, her focus shifting from Leah to you. You stopped touching yourself, eyes staring into hers.

“Did I tell you to stop fucking her, Ale?”

She shakes her head vigorously.

“Do it again and you’re both not coming anymore tonight.”

Her grip on Leah tightened and her pace quickened, pounding Leah into the mattress as she tried to watch you. Your fingers moved into Leah’s awaiting mouth which she sucked on hard. Spreading out a little more than earlier, three fingers slipped themselves easier into your throbbing pussy. Alexia moans watching, hips faltering as she barreled towards her high. Leah was too, nimble fingers slipping momentarily into her mouth before circling her sensitive clit. Alexia bent over and suckled on Leah’s breasts; they were known to be her favorite set.

You didn’t know who came first, moans of everyone’s names echoed in the room. It was melodious, a symphony of passion and ecstasy.

Leah panted deeply, hands pressed to her face as she broke out in a fit of giggles. Alexia pulled out and bit her lip, starting to giggle too. You grinned and licked your lips, kissing a giggling Leah with difficulty. Alexia was easier, her lips molding to yours perfectly every time.

That was how it was kissing them. Leah’s lips felt like fireworks, new and exciting. Alexia’s lips felt like home, familiar and comforting.

You reached under your pillow, grabbing your harness to pull on. Alexia pulled hers off, scooting away from Leah with a soft peck to your shoulder. Kissing down Leah’s chest, you bit new marks in places that Alexia missed. Sucking on her breast, you pinched at the other, making her moan softly. She was a little more sensitive there than Alexia, responding to every fondle with a whiny moan.

“Ready for me now, baby girl?”

She nodded. Alexia leaned in and kissed Leah, just as you pushed your cock into her. Leah moaned into Alexia’s mouth, she threw her head back and couldn’t keep her sounds contained as you weren’t as lenient as Alexia. Your hips were rough and deep, hitting her sweet spot almost immediately. You had your eyes focused on where you both were connected, not seeing that Alexia had clambered onto Leah’s face facing you. She reached back and grabbed Leah’s blonde hair, pulling hard as she ground her pussy down on her face. Leah groaned into Alexia’s core, arms wrapped tight around her muscular thighs. Alexia tapped your shoulder, your head shot up, eyes met with a beautiful sight before you. Leah was noisily slurping at Alexia’s folds, Alexia puckered at you, asking for a kiss. Speeding up your thrusts to spur Leah, you grab Alexia’s face and kiss her passionately. You lick deep into Alexia’s mouth, reaching down to spank her ass.

She whines, sucking on your tongue hard. She grasps at Leah’s waist to stabilize herself, her face tucked into your neck as she desperately tries to ride Leah’s tongue. She gets a grip on herself, leaning back and grinding hard on Leah, chasing her high. Leah could easily let herself die here, she’d be a happy woman.

Her slender fingers slip into Alexia’s begging-to-be-filled hole, causing Ale to gasp and ride her fingers while Leah suckles on her folds. A chorus of groans fills the room, the three of you almost at your peak. Alexia leans in again, puckered lips ready for you to satisfy. You kiss her hard, fucking into Leah with more determination.

Leah comes first this time, already sensitive from her first two orgasms. Alexia follows 10 seconds later, gripping your arms tight as she practically goes boneless on top of Leah. One last thrust into Leah gives you what you need, cumming hard just as Leah begins to beg you to stop because of the oversensitivity.

Alexia climbs off Leah immediately presses her lips to hers. They kiss passionately, and you pull out of Leah and watch them for a bit. Alexia looks utterly infatuated, a look that she’s given you dozens of times after sex. You decide to leave them for a bit, going into the bathroom to start a shower. Throwing in a shower steamer and turning down the lights, you walk back into the room to find them both cuddling with each other.

“Come on darlings, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Alexia takes it upon herself to carry Leah into the bathroom. She sets her down in the shower, immediately grabbing her face and kissing her. Leah giggles softly, kissing her back gently. You saunter in behind them, pulling Leah closer to you. She reaches back and tucks a hand behind your head, your lips biting little hickeys along her neck. Your hands knead her flesh, massaging her sore thighs gently as Alexia lathers her up in body wash. You work on her hair next, scratching her scalp exactly how you knew she enjoyed it. Alexia was next, Leah insisting on shampooing the Spaniard. You scrubbed her clean, Leah rinsing her hair out while making sure not to get soap in her eyes. They worked on you last, Alexia massaging your head while she worked the conditioner into your hair, Leah having too much fun making sure the loofah scrubbed every inch of skin she knew about.

An hour later, skincare routines were completed and hair care was done, you called for a couple of pizzas for dinner. Alexia took back her needy-after-sex title, face smushed into Leah’s stomach as she watched the men’s Arsenal game Leah had put on.

“Why are we watching this?” she grumbled into Leah’s (yours) hoodie.

“Because my boys are playing.”

“Ale, just enjoy the football. It’s an important game for Arsenal in the Premier League.”

A minute later, you felt the need to clarify something.

“If it makes you feel better, I still want them to lose since I am a Manchester United fan.” (a/n I have been since I was a kid.)

Alexia laughs, snuggling closer into Leah’s stomach with a smile. Leah shoots you a sharp look, instead running her fingers through the Catalan’s damp hair, slowly Alexia becomes more and more interested in the game.

The pizza got there 20 minutes after you called, sharing a meat lover pizza with your girls was the perfect way to make up for the time difference.

[ivysangel]

Honey clings to your fingers, viscous and sticky, stringing every time it touches itself. Lines of liquid gold run down the curves of your hand, streams of goopy liquid pooling in your palm and flowing down your wrist in a few collective lines. You plunge your thumb back into the honey pot, the thick substance clinging to your skin instantly, and you bring your hand back up again, the honey only stagnant for a second before it starts its descent down your arm.

A large hand, strong and veiny, grabs your wrist. An unrelenting grip bringing your hand forth to him. He presses your thumb to his lips, smearing the sweet substance to and fro, to the corners of his mouth and back, leaving translucent liquid behind when he catches your thumb between his teeth, grazing the appendage and scraping it clean. A guttural groan sounds in the back of his throat, and you know that means he likes it.

"'s good, huh?" you watch the way his eyes flutter as he lets the rest dissolve in his mouth, ecstasy written all over his features. An emotion he only exhibits when he's eating good food or fucking you. "Yeah, really good." His voice is hoarse as if the honey absorbed all moisture from his larynx and left him in need of a glass of water, ironic given its effectiveness in soothing sore throats. "Thirsty?" you hand him a cup filled with cucumber water, a palate cleanser. "Real sweet," he says before tipping his head back and downing the drink. "But I liked it. What's next?"

Your eyes peruse the board of half-eaten sweets and treats in front of you, searching for one that was untouched. The beech wood board, previously a nice light beige, is stained a multitude of colors. Splotches of deep reds and purple form puddles where you had put the berries, frosting is streaked across the entirety of the board from the multiple unfinished slices of cake, chocolate chips and sprinkles from cookies lay scattered on both the countertop and floor, spoons and forks that were only partially licked clean can still be found near their designated desserts. Cubes of angel food cake half-dipped in chocolate and tooth-rottingly sweet marshmallow squares sit on napkins, drying out more and more by the second while long-forgotten brownies soak up various fruity jellies and jams, having been discarded with no regard for keeping flavor profiles separate.

It was a nightmare to look at, an even bigger one to clean up, and if anyone else had been the cause of this mess, you wouldn't have even begun to entertain the idea of letting it get this bad, let alone cleaning it up. But it wasn't anyone else, wasn't just some random stranger; it was Jason, and to you, spending weeks curating the perfect Valentine's gift to satiate his sweet tooth was a testament to your love for him. Who cares if you have to break out the good cleaning supplies.

"Hmm," you do one last once over, nothing catching your eye that hadn't already been touched, "I don't think so." unintentionally, you start to clean up, collecting dirty forks and spoons for the dishwasher, stacking empty bowls on top of each other to toss in the sink. "What a shame," he mumbles, appearing beside you seemingly out of thin air and taking the utensils from your hands before setting them down haphazardly right where they started. You look at him with confusion, silently inquiring about his undoing of your work, and you open your mouth to verbally ask but are stopped by the wolfish grin adorning his face and the way he begins to lift the hem of your shirt up. "d'ya think we got anythin' else," he asks, moving in closer, eyes locked on you like a predator with prey. "I'm still hungry."

[justleaveatnine]

i need casino matty to roll dice and the number that gets rolled is the number of orgasms girlie gets what is wrong with me actually. Also i need him disheveled in that fucking uniform of his with like his top buttons undone oh i'm so so down bad for him jj u don't UNDERSTAND

i learned how to play craps for this that’s how much i love you xxx

i hope this can serve as a palate cleanser for whatever the fuck that was matty jesus christ

the casino floor is loud, slot machines blaring and the cheers of successful gamblers filtering through your ears.

matty’s hand is wrapped around your lower waist, slowly inching closer to public indecency as it lowers with each drink he throws back. after your shift ended, he dragged you onto the floor laughing and smiling to play some games as he claimed he was feeling lucky. he had a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards a craps table and slotting himself in behind you.

you’re stood against the ledge, on your tip toes and leaning forward with engagement in the game below. his free hand holds your drink that he occasionally passes down when you ask for a drink, smiling devilishly at him as you sip from the straw while the glass still rests in his hand.

it’s nearly your turn to be the shooter, and you cheer as the current one rolls their point number. you collect the winnings of your successful pass line bet and gleefully accept the dice into your hands. fellow gamblers place their bets, and chips begin to stack up on the tables surface.

you’re shaking the pair of red dice vigorously, smiling lips bitten and eyes narrowed, when you feel matty lean in closer to your ear.

“whatever your point number becomes is how many times i’m gonna make you cum tonight.”

your hands freeze, the rattling dice coming to a sudden halt in your palm. you whip your head back to him to find him grinning devilishly. the flashing lights of the nearby slot machines dance across his features, and illuminate the cruel expression splayed across your face that makes your core throb.

“matty, it can go up to 10,” you say out of far more worry for yourself than his ability to draw that much pleasure out of you. you’ve had more than enough nights resulting in noise complaints from his neighbours that brought shame to your face and laughter to his to establish his affinity for making you see stars, but he’s never been this ambitious.

“i’ve got a lot of energy,” he states far too cockily. the grin on his grows even wider at the fear dancing in your eyes that he knows you crave.

“cmon, roll the dice!” you hear someone yell, violently snapping you out of your moment of frozen trepidation. his smile is shark-like, eyes gleaming and taunting. “go on, princess,” he says to you sultrily. “roll the dice.”

you take a deep breath and try to focus on the matter at hand instead of fearfully fantasizing about your fate once you leave the table. you turn your head back to facing the action, the dealer gesturing at you to hurry along. matty’s hand grips tighter on your hip, and you feel his fingertips press meanly against your skin.

you shake the dice one last time, and violently throw them onto the table. you pray for something low such as a four, still a high amount for most, but hardly a rarity for the man gripping onto you. he’s never satisfied until you’re lying nearly paralyzed with pleasure, your mind unable to think of anything but him and the power he holds over you.

the dice clatter against the wall before returning towards you. the white dots on the translucent red cubes read a four and a two. six.

you grip onto the ledge tightly as you hear matty chuckle arrogantly behind you, dancing his fingertips across your skin. the movement of the table continues, patrons chatting and dealers handing out bets, but you stay frozen.

“we better leave soon then, love, you’ve got a long night ahead of you,” he hums, leaning in close. he presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear as your knuckles turn white from your unrelenting grip, face flushed and heart racing.

[wand3rlustm3]

PALATE CLEANSE

getou suguru x chubby fem reader!

warning: smut, profanity

Likely spurred by the frequent natural disasters of the past year, cursed spirits were springing up like maggots.

Exorcise, absorb.

Over and over.

Exorcise.

Absorb.

No one else understands what cursed spirits taste like, It's like swallowing a dirty rag that's been used to clean up shit and vomit. Unfortunately, Suguru knows what they taste like all too well, and after continuously absorbing these curses, he loses his appetite.

Sometimes, what Suguru needs is a palate cleanse, and it just so happens to be you. It's not hard to believe that Suguru sends you a voice message before he gets home to put on his favorite pair of crotchless lingerie that just so happens to highlight his palate cleanser.

"I want you on the bed with your beautiful thick thighs spread for me before I get home, darling."

His voice made you realize how exhausted he was, but at the same time, the slight rasp made you wet without a single touch. You knew what would happen if you disobeyed Suguru, especially on a day like this. You take a quick shower and get dressed for the man who is about to ruin you. You stand in the mirror and see how the lingerie hugs your curves before you run to the bed and sit with your legs spread wide open, just how Suguru likes them.

As soon as you hear the front door open, your anticipation grows for what will come next. Suguru does not say much, but his eyes speak for him when he sees you on the bed. He ravages you with his eyes, and he is so glad that your pussy isn't covered by the lace. After all, he'd have to rip it off.

"Oh my... you're dripping for me, aren't you, baby?"

Suguru grabs you by your plush thighs and leaves trails of kisses on the inside. Suguru laps at your cunt like a starved dog, and he almost cums from how much he enjoys it. He loudly groans against you, and the vibrations from his low voice make you grind on his face. The room is filled with lewd sounds as your wetness drips down your legs. However, you'd be a fool to think he'd leave behind a single drop. He sucks and licks you at a pace that has you cumming over and over again, and after the 3rd orgasm, you're overstimulated, shaking and begging him to stop. But, if you're his good girl, you'll sit and take what he gives you.

"Darling, I know you can give me one more."

Suguru says as his face glistens, giving his puffy lips one lick before diving right back in.

[astonmartingf]

I FEEL THE RUSH. . . 🏁🍒🏎️

LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid

. . . with no available seat in the f1 grid, and winning the formula w championship, katarina looks for different prospects and lands on a wec seat

amgf it's refreshing to update this, especially after finishing ybom, it's a palate cleanser for me and i love her sm, i have three drafts on ltd

"RED FLAG! WE HAVE RED FLAG— Four cars crashed into each other, reaching the barriers. All cars are pitted and the race comes to a halt."

Those were the exact words the commentators said, and before Katarina knew it the season was over before the race even began.

That was two months ago, 2015 is starting and despite winning the Formula 2 Championship, she wasn't exactly feeling like a "winner".

Sure she could appeal to join Formula 1 by now, but Katarina the mere 17 year old thought the chances were slim. Sure she's capable of pulling a Max Verstappen, but the female didn't like sharing the spotlight.

Especially not to Max, she'd rather start on a different track. Something in the same playing field, but of a different caliber. Something like the World Endurance Championship.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Her father, Alvize Lombardi bursts out from the kitchen, facing his daughter right in front of the computer desk.

"It's just testing and I already told Ma about it. She's okay." Katarina shrugs before sending emails to three different teams. One thing about Katarina is her persistence, her need to create a space for herself, and if it means personally emailing team principals and asking about open spots she will do it.

"Ay, of course your mama will say yes she's just like you! Always racing, always busy with the cars. Slow down piccolina, we both know you'll get back on the track before you know it."

Katarina blinks, realizing how much she's been clicking reload, waiting for a response in her mail. Turning around away from the screen Katarina catches her father busy in the kitchen preparing snacks.

"You know what, you're right. I will get that seat." Standing up, Katarina wraps her arms around her father from behind.

"Thank you papa." The older male rests his hands on the smaller pair engulfing his waist.

"Now. Go bring this to the garage, or else your mother will never leave under that car she's been fixing."

"I GOT A SEAT! MANTHEY RACING!" Her excitement can be heard throughout their whole house. Her father in the kitchen swerved through the kitchen island, grabbing the female's shoulders for support reading the email in front of the screen.

"There are only two drivers at the moment, and if they don't find anyone, they say they'll give the seat to me." Katarina stares at the screen, rereading the letter word for word in case she misses something.

Eyes locked on the screen, Katarina blinks, losing focus of the screen. Only then did the tears fall from her eyes.

"Piccolina... we're proud of you. You did this all on your own." Katarina shakes her head left and right, taking comfort in the arms of her father.

"I wouldn't go far without you two– you're always there even though you don't like to see me race. I'm sorry for racing all the time."

Alvize tuts in disagreement, "Piccolina, I'm sorry you think that way. Seeing you race reminds me of when I first met your mother... wild and free. And that scares me, have you seen your mother drive?"

"Talking behind my back to our daughter?"

Katarina turns around to see her mother, blonde hair sticking out in different directions. Katarina could guess that she spent her time under her kart, meticulously checking for upgrades.

"Ma, you don't need to repair my kart for a whole year." Eyes wide, beaming with enthusiasm as Katarina watches her mother realize what the excitement in the living room was all about.

"You're racing?"

She bobs her head repeatedly, "I got a seat in Porsche Manthey Racin–"

"NO!"

"What?" Her mother's outburst caught her off-guard. "But you said yes, I told you about it."

Her mother shakes her head, “I thought you’d end up in a Formula 1 Team, not Endurance Racing. Withdraw right now.”

“Ma?” Katarina keeps her eyes at her mother, looking for the answers, an explanation at least to her actions. But before the younger female could ask her more, she left the dining room leaving Katarina frozen in the living room.

KATARINA’S LEGS BOUNCE UP AND DOWN AS THE CLOCK TICKS DOWN, marking the end of the first race in 6 Hours of Silverstone. Beside Katarina are her teammates racing for Porsche Manthey Racing in the LTGME Pro Category after being cleared to join. It was all new for Katarina, and a little bit too much.

Especially after her mother’s disapproval— something she took to heart. Her mother had been the one supporting her since she began karting, her mother who shared the same hobbies and dreams with. Her mother whom she wanted to be like, the dream of racing all began with her. And when she expressed her disapproval in Katarina in Endurance Racing, it hit hard for the female.

But like her mother, Katarina didn’t stop and instead pursued racing for Porsche, spending her summer in Germany training and testing cars. It bothered her how her mother didn’t even explain as to why she doesn’t agree with her racing. And now, at Katarina’s long awaited debut, yet her mother is nowhere to be seen.

She managed to contribute two hours worth of driving in the Silverstone track, it was unlike the cars she drove before— despite the months of training nothing could compare to the actual race, fortunately she managed to complete two hours successfully before switching with a third driver.

As the clock ticks down to the last few seconds, Katarina keeps her eyes on the leaderboard screen, looking for their team position. Just finishing behind AF Course, in second place on her first race with the team. After receiving congratulations from the team, Katarina gets ready to leave, right outside the Porsche garage her father greets her, with her mother following beside him.

“Ma! You came!” The tiredness and sore feeling leaving her body as she wraps her arms around her parents. “I thought… you don’t hate me?” Katarina bursts into tears hearing her mother’s laughter, wiping the tears falling from her daughter’s eyes.

“How could I ever hate you? I was just scared— I raced to you know. Seeing you achieve these, and race, it only dawned to me then that this was no longer a hobby, or a sport to you. I’m so proud of you Katarina, I would never hate you. I want you to be safe first, and happy, we will always be here to support you wherever you go.”

“WE’D LIKE TO EXTEND OUR WARM REGARDS TO KATARINA ANNELI LOMBARDI. We've seen your prospects from World Endurance Racing and would like to offer you a seat in Williams Racing for the 2016 Season. Signed, Claire Williams, Deputy Team Principal for Williams Racing.”

Katarina turned around, facing her parents with tears streaming down her face, “I got invited by Claire Williams.”

[aruanimess]

Aot parents reacting to their kids coming out to them ✨

Hi, Luca!

I can't believe you're forcing me to write homophobic shit on the eve of Pride month, but here goes: 

Eren: Mom, dad, I'm gay!

Carla: *grabs Grisha's hand before he can speak* Thank you for telling us, sweetie!

Grisha: What about that girlfriend of yours?

Eren: Who? Mikasa?

Grisha: Of course not Mikasa. The blonde one.

Eren: ...

Eren: Armin is not a girl, dad.

Grisha: ...

Grisha: Oh... I see.

~~~

Zeke: Mom, dad, I'm gay!

Dina: Thank--

Grisha: No one cares, Zeke. Go back to training!

~~~

Reiner: Mom, I'm gay.

Karina: *voice trembling* I'm glad you're cheerful, son.

Reiner: No, I mean I'm queer.

Karina: *teeth clenching* You're not weird, my boy.

Reiner: No, mom! I'm a homosexual!

Karina: *red in the face* We're all Homo sapiens. Didn't they teach you in school?

Reiner: *at his wits end* MEN!!

~~~

Historia: Father, I have something to tell you. I'm attracted to women. Exclusively.

Rod Reiss: I understand, sweetheart.

Historia: *breathes a sigh of relief* Thank you, father.

Rod Reiss: However, as you have no siblings left, you'll still be expected to marry a man of noble blood and continue the line.

Historia: ...

~~~

Annie: So... I like girls.

Mr Leonhart: ...

Mr Leonhart: Do you want a reward or something?

~~~

And a palate cleanser:

Armin: Captain, Commander, I have to tell you something... I'm bisexual.

Hange: WOOOOOOOOHOOOOO!! Another win for the queers! You heard that, Levi? We got another one!!! We must celebrate!!

Levi: I'll bring the damned party hats. *is already planning the heart-to-heart he'll have with Armin in private later*

[rayslittlekitten]

I've been writing so much angsty Jax lately, I needed a bit of a palate cleanser so I whipped this little thing up. I don't know if I want to turn this into a whole ass fic yet, but I think this small little scene can stand on its own. I sorta had an idea inspired by "Bring It All To Me" by Blaque but this isn't quite what I imagined but I still liked how this came out. GIF is from here. A little teenager Jax fluff.

You impatiently stare at the clock hanging above the chalkboard as your leg bounces up and down, counting down to the seconds waiting for the bell to ring. As soon as you hear the shrill, you grab your textbook and book bag and dash out of the classroom. As the hallway quickly fills up, you push through all the other students trying to make it to their next class, just like you are, but for you, you're more concerned about what happens between classes. When you finally make it to your destination, you slow down, as does time.

There he is: Jax Teller, leaning against the row of lockers, looking so cool in his white t-shirt, baggy jeans and white sneakers. He runs his long slim fingers through his blonde tresses as he's listening to his best friend, Harry Winston telling him a story, but gets distracted by a pretty brunette walking past him. His head turns and follows her as she struts down the hall like it's her own personal catwalk, flicking her hair back while putting one heeled foot in front of the other. He nudges Harry and he's also now watching the same girl.

Suddenly, time returns to reality when someone behind you pushes you, launching you forward and knocking your book out of your arms. Jax and Harry's own oogling gets interrupted as well by your interruption.

"Get out of the way!"

Embarrassed, you look around for your book in the sea of legs, but find it presented in front of you. You look up and all the breath is taken out of your lungs.

"Are you okay?"

Never in a million years did you ever think you'd ever get this close to Jax, let alone talk to him.

"Y-yes," you manage to croak out as you timidly take your book back from him.

"That guy was a jerk," he scoffs.

"Come on, Jax, we gotta get to class," Harry jumps in.

"We're actually gonna go smoke some weed in the cafeteria. Wanna join us?"

"Ignore him." Harry rolls his eyes.

"See you later." Jax winks at you and the two troublemakers walk off.

[shellshocklove]

baby blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern prince!tom holland x female!reader

summary: tom sooths your nerves before a presentation.

warnings: swearing

word count: 949

a/n: this is a little baby blurb pre-epilogue. it takes place between chapter two and three.  i’m posting the last blurb post-epilogue soon, but it think this little blurb will be nice as a little palate cleanser before the end! i hope this is okay?

series masterlist

“Maybe you shouldn’t finish the rest of your coffee” Tom chuckled, leaning forward to grab the plastic cup in front of you. The ice cubes rustled in his hand as he moved away from you.

The campus café was quiet. It was early afternoon, and most of the usual clientele were in class. Tucked away at the table in the corner, side by side on the bench, sat you and Tom. In front of you, you had your laptop opened to this week’s presentation. You’d finished it a couple of days ago, you just hadn’t practised yet.

Your mouth fell open in mock shock, “What do you mean?”. You leaned towards him; on a mission to save your coffee from its handsome kidnapper.

Your hand landed on his bicep, keeping yourself steady while the other chased after him. Tom’s face scrunched up in a giggly smile at your rescue attempt. A smile that grew into a grin as he raised his hand, holding your cup even higher in the air.

“Nah-ah, darling” he laughed, “You’ve had enough”.

Your body fell. Face pulled up in a disappointing pout, “You’re mean!”.

He laughed again, “You’re all jittery– you’ve had, what? Three iced coffees today?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Only two…” you mumbled, “And I’m not jittery– I’m just nervous”.

“About the presentation?” he put your coffee down on the table, on his side of the table, furthest away from you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “last time I swear to god I thought I was gonna be sick AND poop my pants at the same time up there!”.

“What are you talking about? You did so well last time! I couldn’t tell you were nervous at all” he said softly.

Inside, you felt yourself turn to mush. It tended to happen more often lately. He’d look at you a certain way, his brown eyes exposing only his kindness, and you’d forget what you were saying. Or he’d touch you, in a friendly way of course, and you’d feel the warmth of him spreading like a lovesick disease through your body. You felt yourself lingering a little longer with each hug he greeted you with, wanting to savour it. The goodbyes tasting more and more bitter on your tongue.

But all of this ­­­– your feelings – you pushed down.

He’s a fucking prince. He’s royalty. You needed to kill the saccharine feelings you had for him. You can’t fall in love with him. But god is it hard to resist, when Tom does nothing but say all the right things, at the right time.

You shook your head, “I felt like my voice was shaking the whole time­– like the words were stuck in my throat”.

“What nooo, darling!” his hand landed on your shoulder in comfort, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the knit of your sweater.

“There’s just so many people watching you up there, you know? And so much to remember… And you’re just so good at it too– I feel like I’m dragging us down” you confessed.

His eyebrows met in the middle in a furrow. “Darling!” his grip tightened around your shoulder, “What are you talking about? You’re not dragging us down at all!”.

“I just…” you trailed off, eyes falling to your hands in your lap.

“What?” he said it so softly it was almost a whisper.

“You’re a natural at public speaking. I’m actually in awe at you– you make it seem so easy. And I just wish I could be as calm and confident as you”.

His grip tightened around your shoulder, forcing you to look at him – to meet his eyes. Brown kind eyes. Big and moony. In your tummy the knotted cord of nerves, untied into a swarm of butterflies. They fluttered chaotically, conspiring for a prisonbreak.

“You won’t be this nervous before every presentation, darling! Every time it will get a little bit easier. I’m not a natural at all– I’ve just had a lot of practice. Each presentation we’ll have is just practice” he shrugged, “I’m sure that soon you’ll wonder what you were even nervous about in the first place” he smiled, a smile that went straight to your heart where it burned a little brighter.

“You sure?” you said sceptically. 

His hand on your shoulder moved a little further up your body. His warm touch grazing over the naked skin of your neck. Instinctively, you held your breath. Your heart boomed in your chest, and in your ears – so loudly you were afraid he could hear it.

“I’m sure” he uttered, voice low. His eyes dropped to his hand. Lips pressed tightly into a line. He circled his pinky against your skin, making goosebumps travel up your spine.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his face. His wild eyebrow. The curve of his nose. The angle of his jawbone. The air between you felt heavy. His eyes flickered from his hand to your eyes, and it was like the time stopped.

You could kiss him.

You realised you wanted to.

With a blink, the moment was gone. Something flashed before his eyes. Guilt? Regret? Shame? The earth started turning again, and he retracted his hand. Sheepishly, he turned away from you, wrapping his other hand around his wrist. Like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He cleared his throat. Chasing the moment away.

“I mean,” he started, fingers turning around his wrist, “Soon you’ll be so good at speaking in front of a crowd that you’ll be the professor”.

You tried to breathe out a chuckle, but it came out like a nervous huff instead, “Let us not get carried away”.

In more ways than one.

previous: two | next: three

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @spideysmb, @the-unknown-fan-girl​, @mannien​, @moonlightdotmp3​, @padlockedhearts​, @moniffazictress11​, @all4koo​, @angelayse​, @svechnibrock​, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx​, @xxtomspideyxx​, @i83andrew​, @clockblobber​, @fangirlinggalore​, @luciwritesstuff​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @lol-just-kidding002​, @allywthsr​, @captainsbestgal​, @readheadwriter​, @parkersdahlia​, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​, @alltoowelltom​, @hey-im-bored504​, @storybookholland​, @sadisticsongbird​, @prettyjendeukie​, @marsbars09​, @mixedfandxms​

[ddejavvu]

mei this is super sweet and cute and i love it but it has got me thinking 😵‍💫

“a Very Big Fan of tummy rubs” THIS IS JUST ABOUT REGULAR HUMAN EDDIE AND i am drooling about it

he comes home after a long day and sprawls himself across your lap on the couch, resting his head on the armrest- he takes off his shirt before he grabs your hands and puts one into his hair and one onto his belly and just vibrates with pleasure from it. he occasionally opens his eyes and looks up at you all gooey and sweet and he starts falling asleep and drooling and it’s so cute

you hug him from behind and stick ur hands up his shirt to rub his tummy and play with his happy trail </3

you run your hands all across it while ur sucking him off </3

any chance u get, ur hands r on his sweet little belly because he begs for it constantly and makes sweet little whines for u when you do <///3

feel free to elaborate or simply enjoy my horny thought of the day 😚

you are formally invited to ddejavvu's 10K dinner party, now serving palate cleansers

juliet i got the notification that you'd sent in an ask and the way i slammed down the inbox button.. YOU NEVER DISAPPOINT.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

argh okay he's got a little pudgy tummy and it's soft and squishy and he's got a happy trail yes and it's your favorite thing to pinch and squeeze, it's super sensitive so if you're play fighting with him you either tickle him or pinch him and he just loses it, squeals and calls t.o

laying on your lap :(( that boy's love language is physical touch and when he spreads out over your lap and you rub his belly he's so fucking gone. completely braindead, all whimpers and moans and groans when your fingers ghost over the extra sensitive spots, and yes he'll stare up at you all dreamy with those shiny puppy eyes of his while you love on him and he snoozes like a little kitty in your lap while you pet his belly :')

he complains 'cause your hands are always cold when you wake up and you stick 'em right up his shirt >:))) you go straight for that tummy of his while he's making breakfast and he jumps, 'jesus, babe! 'tryin'a make me drop the knife?'

hnngh the curve of his pelvis is so fucking sensitive so you ghost your fingers right under his belly and follow the curve and holy shit he's cumming in seconds. it's your secret weapon, he always begs you for it but you tell him you'll do it 'when he least expects it'

kissing his belly!! i repeat!! kissing his belly!! you blow raspberries on it and he folds in half like 'babe i'm not three years old!' but it worked and you know it did so you wipe off your sticky saliva smear and press soft little kisses there as an apology and he giggles at the feeling

[jaebeomsbitch]

Puppy (R.R.)

PT. II

Summary: Meeting Roman Roy at a gala leads to other things or Roman Roy entrances you with those big hazel eyes.

Warnings: None

Authors Note: My palate cleanser! I was originally going to shorten this all into one story but my brain is so fried right now. Not edited as always

You’d met Roman at a company gala, you were the plus one of a random schmuck Roman didn’t know. His eyes kept flitting towards you as you walked around the room. He couldn’t pinpoint why, maybe it was because you were hot or maybe because something about your presence commanded power. He could see the way your shoulders are squared back, your mouth moving like you’re not taking any shit. He decides to walk up to you as whoever you were talking to walks away. 

“What brings you to this fickle fest at the chuckle factory?” He says, leaning against the cocktail table. 

“A little bit of business and a little bit of pleasure,” You say, taking a sip of your champagne.

“Well, you certainly picked the right party of that second one. We are drowning in it in this crowd of the rich, the insufferable, and the wannabe,” He says, hazel eyes unmoving from yours. 

You hum, taking another sip of your own drink, the bubbles sliding down your throat. Roman’s eyes follow the way your throat bobs when you drink down the expensive champagne. You can’t help but smirk at the way he seems so focused on you. Roman Roy should be off schmoozing some schmuck for his Daddy’s business but he’s here giving you those signature ‘fuck me’ eyes knowing god damn well he couldn’t if he wanted to. 

He smiles back at you with that signature Roy smile, showing off all his perfect straight teeth. 

“Is this when you finally tell me your name or do I have to keep calling you Miss Business and Pleasure?” He says.

“You can keep calling me that. I enjoy a little game of mystery,” you say walking around him. You skirt through the crowd until he loses you in the crowd. You turn your business side on and start schmoozing some potential clients.

Roman spends the rest of the night hunting for you. He sees the occasional glance but then you turn a corner or dip behind someone. He notices you talking business to one client and he takes his chance. 

He goes to the same person and starts to subtly undercut what you’re saying to the client. He wants to see how you react. Unluckily for him you’re incredibly quick witted and unfazed. You meet his every undercut with your own. 

Once the client leaves you turn to Roman with an smug smile knowing they liked you more 

“Nice try Romulus, you’ll catch ‘em later tiger” you wink, a smug smile adorning your lips. 

You’re skirted away by Kendall who grabs you by the elbow. He whispers something in your ear, eyes looking over to Roman that fire of competition in Kendall’s eyes. Roman can feel that heat in his gut bubble like pure rage. They’ve never been into the same type, why was Kendall picking you? Kendall walks away, phone to his ear. 

Before Roman can approach you again someone else is greeting you with a fresh glass of champagne. Roman tries to look away, his eyes avoiding you at all cost but like a magnet, eyes flit back towards you. The way your lips move, your hand brushing off the strangers, your hand tightening around the glass before placing it on the cocktail table. Your eyes find Roman’s jealous gaze. 

You excuse yourself walking towards Roman,  you can practically feel his anger masked with faux cockiness. 

“Who pissed in your cereal? Nevermind you look like you’d enjoy that type of thing,” You say, grabbing a fresh glass of champagne. 

Roman is caught off guard by your comment. He feels his heart skip a beat. You’ve managed to get him in this one. He has an annoyed grunt but also is trying not to smile from how good of a quip it was. 

He has to try and get you back so he says, “at least I’d have a nice bowl of cereal, Miss Business and Pleasure.”

You can’t help but laugh at his absurdity, “ I didn’t take you as a cereal eater” You say. Roman chuckles at that. He’s only met one person who could bounce off his quips this well.

“What do you take me for?” He says with the slightest hint of a smirk on his face.

“A 120 pounds wet, skips every meal, hair clumps falling out type” you say studying his body for a second. 

Roman is taken aback. No one has ever come at him like that. He tries to act unbothered but when he feels his heart skip a beat after just a second of your inspection, he gives a bit of a smile. 

“Is that so?” He says with a slight chuckle and a small smile. How had you seen him and broken him apart to his core so quickly? Most people couldn’t tell when he’d pushed expensive meals around. They're all too consumed with their own bullshit to notice Roman faking eating his meals and yet here you are reading him like a children’s book. Like he was the easiest thing to decipher. 

​​You hum in agreement, handing a waiter your empty glass. 

“Seems like my night has come to a finish Mr. Roy. I’ll see you, when I see you” you flash him a smile before walking out of the gala.

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

From My Headphones: Mountains

AN: Hello my loves! I really just wanted to write something today so we went back to old faithful and pulled something from my song inspo playlist. This thing really is like a quick writing palate cleanser for me in full honesty, hence why it’s so short lol. I really didn’t even wanna put a tag list on this one cause it was so short lmfao. 

Summary: Who else would Shuri turn to in her time of need?

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of injury that’s it I think.

Word count: 1,068

Part 1.  Masterlist.  Taglist.

Suggested listening: Mountains - Charlotte Day Wilson

“Up on the mountain (up on the mountain) Searched through the valley (searched through the valley) You hear me calling (you you hear me calling) Won't you come find me? (Won't you come and find me?) Please don't forsake me (please don't forsake me)”

It had to be easily two or three AM when the familiar sound of a certain someone knocking at your door came. Groggily throwing a large fur over your shoulder and slipping your feet into your slippers you opened the door, greeted by an injured Shuri. She stood sheepishly there, staring down at your feet waiting for you to say something.

“This is the third time this month Shuri.”

“Does that mean you’re going to leave me out here? I mean, I trekked all the way up here in the snow.” The young Queen rocked on the balls of her feet, pulling her bottom lip into her teeth.

You stared at her for a moment, contemplating if denying her to teach her a lesson would be best in this case. But as much as you wanted to, your heart said no. Here Shuri was, feeling comfortable enough with you to come to seek your aid when she was at her most vulnerable.

No, you could never turn her away when she was like this.

Stepping aside to let the poor girl in, Shuri breathed out a thank you. Appreciative that your thin patience hadn’t run out just yet.

At this point you two had turned this whole ordeal into a dance, knowing the ins and outs and working with each other to make sure you had all the materials you needed. While you pick out an incense stick to set the room, Shuri grabs the matches from the cabinet above you. Making sure to breathe ever so slightly down your neck when she, leaving goosebumps in her path.

As you clear your small kitchen table of its wood decorations, Shuri strips out of the thick over-layers that she wore on the climb up here. Leaving her just in her sports bra and leggings. You try not to oggle at the sight, this was about healing Shuri, not praising the God’s for giving her a perfect body. Shuri however was amused at the way you pulled your eyes from her quickly as if you’d seen something you weren't allowed to.

This dance you two did ended with Shuri laying on her back on the table and you standing over her, a bowl filled with various herbs in your hand. There was only one injury Shuri came to you for, the one thing she didn’t trust anyone to try and heal; her injury from the fight with Namor.

Looking down over her as you gathered some of the mixture in your hand you analyzed the wound. Clearly, she’d reopened it doing God’s know-what and tried to get it to reseal by itself with no success. “What did you do to it this time?” You distracted her with a question as you applied the first layer.

She groaned slightly when your fingers made contact with her skin. No matter how gentle you seemed to be, that area was always extra sensitive. “I was helping with the rebuilding efforts in the River Tribe, moving things, stuff like that.”

“Mhm,” You encouraged her to continue on as you applied the second layer thicker this time.

Shuri’s eyes studied all of your movements. How focused you were on the task at hand, how every movement seemed filled with intention and you allowed not even a drop to go to waste. “I was playing with some of the children, showing off my strength.”

This pulled your eyes away from her stomach and up to her own. Giving her a look that let her know you were not pleased.

“What!” She cried out in mock defense. “They’re small children, what was I supposed to do? Not pick them up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh yeah whatever. So you pick them up and then what?”

Shuri lets out a sigh, moving her hands from her side to rest interlaced behind her head. This put her toned upper body right in your face and it took everything in you not to feast on what she was so clearly dangling in front of you. “Well of course when I feel my stitches rip, I can take a good guess that picking up all twenty of them was not the best idea. So when I got back to my lab, I whipped something up quickly to deal with it and went about my day.”

You shook your head as you wiped the last bits of the mixture onto her skin, encasing the previous two layers with this one. “That’s your problem.” You declared as you cleaned up your workspace, Shuri sitting up from the table and looking down at your work.

“What’s my problem?” She asked as she hopped off the table and followed you around the kitchen. Not giving you a lick of space to yourself. This was on purpose and you knew it, Shuri didn’t get a lot of time to spend with you. With your house being situated deep enough into the Jabari Land mountains your own brother M’baku had famously declared he would never make the trip. And Shuri’s newfound responsibilities being Queen and Black Panther, time just wasn’t on you two’s side.

But that didn’t stop Shuri from coming to you anytime she was injured, using it as an excuse to turn up at your doorstep at odd hours without invitation. Knowing you’d never turn her away.

“Your problem,” You turned around to answer Shuri but found that she was right behind you. “Is that you keep expecting a machine to heal something that only you can.”

Shuri sighed at your words having heard a variation of this speech before a million times. “I’m serious ihunanya (love).” You reached out and ghosted your fingers over where the paste had now completely dried to her skin. “You can’t use technology to heal this, nor can you expect me to with my herbs. Your body will heal once your mind has.”

You looked up at her hoping that maybe this time your message had gotten through to her, but you couldn’t tell.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Shuri’s request came quiet, it wasn’t unusual, but it did come as a shock to you that she asked. Typically you would just go to bed normally and she would join you, no questions asked just a mutual understanding. But tonight you had a feeling this was about more than just sleep, Shuri was searching for connection.

“Of course.”

Taglist:  @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav-deactivated2023040 @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku @lppriceisright @bratydoll @blackqueengold @iheartsolo @cafehyunji @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @ilroachsworld @locoforshuri @nrc-06

[ellekhen]

Of Silk, Sun, and Sparks

Summary: Laundry day forces Church to make use of a gift from his betrothed, much to Astarion's smug satisfaction. But the tiefling's relaxing, sunlit evening in Waterdeep is about to get a lot more involved — and magical — thanks to the arrival of a dear friend.

Pairing: Astarion/Male Tav/Gale (w/established Astarion/Male Tav) Rating: Explicit Length: 1.4K+ words; Chapter 1/4

As I'm currently in the middle of a pretty dark part of a longfic, I decided to play around with this as a bit of a palate-cleanser!

Timeline-wise, this takes place after The stars in between, but it's not at all required reading!

Whether this is your first Churchstarion fic or your eighth, I hope you enjoy! ^_^

-----

Excerpt below:

Church huffs a laugh, tapping the graphite stick upon his lips before giving up and setting his drawing aside. 

“Come here,” he whispers, and Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He crawls into Church's space, kneeling between his legs as he presses him back by the chest against the side of the windowsill. His lingering kiss deepens only briefly before he pulls away, regarding the dazed Church with a smirk. And then he nuzzles into the tiefling’s neck, sighing into his skin as his lips trail along its curve, down to his clavicle, and further down to his ridged sternum as the elf teases apart the collar of Church’s robe. 

“Thank you for finally wearing this,” Astarion mutters, pressing a kiss against the bare skin above his heart. “I was afraid it had gone to waste.”

“I haven’t done laundry yet,” Church admits sheepishly. “Desperate times, and all.” Still, he smiles and sighs into Astarion’s featherlight touch. “But I see what I missed out on.”

“What took you so long?” Astarion scowls, flicking away a speck of lint.  

“I was afraid of damaging it, and really making it a waste…”

“Oh for gods’ sake!” Astarion sputters in disbelief. “This…” he grabs at the tail-end of the robe’s belt. “…is spider silk. Not your cheap run-of-the-mill wood pulp or…”

He trails off, red eyes flicking up to meet Church’s as they widen. 

“…your heart’s racing,” Astarion tilts his head curiously. “Why?”

Church huffs a laugh, and Astarion keeps his exaggerated frown of confusion frozen upon his face as his eyes remain fixed on Church’s. At the same time, his hand carefully pulls at the silken belt, undoing its bow with a deliberate, theatrical flourish. 

Church raises a brow at him and Astarion returns it with a wicked smirk. 

“Testing the structural integrity?” Church grins. 

“Perhaps,” Astarion murmurs lightly. “Although it may take further experimentation.”

“Hm,” Church blinks slowly back at him. “Proceed.”

Astarion hooks his finger into the belt, tugging gently as he pulls Church in for a thorough kiss. Just like the belt, he takes his time as the tiefling moans softly through every push and pull upon his lips and tongue, every broken murmur exchanged between the two of them. Astarion's other hand floats up to wrap firmly around the back of Church's neck, pulling him ever closer, ever deeper...  

“Gods,” Church breathes. “I love you…”

He moans against Astarion's mouth as the belt unties completely, and Church gasps as his robe slips aside beneath the elf's eager touch. 

He expects Astarion's hands to head straight in for the kill, but instead he takes his time, fingers drifting back up to pull Church's robe further down, slipping the silk off of one shoulder —

— and the other. 

Astarion leans forward, pressing a kiss and a soft whisper against the warmth of the tiefling’s neck. 

“What?” Church pants, breath catching at his partner's electrical touch upon his skin. 

“I said…” Astarion murmurs. “…I have a gift for you.”

At that moment, a light tap sounds upon the door, and Church startles — hastily pulling his robe back together.

“You’re late,” Astarion drawls, sitting back upon his heels.

Their guest pushes his way sheepishly inside.

“Forgive me,” Gale chuckles, raising a bottle of wine in peace offering. “Seems I got lost.”

[wings-of-ink]

Hi! (this got a bit long, sorry for that,,)

I just finished reading the update and wanted to let you know I absolutely loved it! It was such a pleasant read, even if it wasn't packed with drama and action to the brim—I feel like a palate cleanser like this was appropriate after such an eventful start to the story.

I loved all the interactions between the characters, the dynamic between Oswin and Nathanael is especially fun. Actually, Nathanael by himself is fun. The oats sowing euphemism made me laugh more than it should have because, yes, I'm childish like that. What a dork; I love him. (I'm imagining now a scene in an alternate universe where MC stumbles up to Oswin dazed out of their mind after they shared a pipe with Nathanael, which is immediately followed by Oswin grabbing the merchant and shaking him until he spills out what it is he smokes—because we all know it ain't just plain ol' tobacco—and how could he let MC of all the three other people gathered take a drag, all while MC and Zahn sit by the fire, watching a looney tunes cartoon unfold before them.)

Oh, and Zahn! Oh man. Can I just say if they asked, I would give them anything? (the world, the universe, the stars; you name it.) Actually, no, scratch that—they don't even have to ask; I would just bring them all the yummy food and warm blankets and pamper them until they accept they are worth it, because they! are! not! a bad! person! Also, I don't know why, but before they were introduced, I had this image of them being a character that would only appear here and there (you know, like every story has a character that just doesn't get enough screen time), but knowing they'll be tagging along for a while longer makes me really happy! Right now it feels like a circus lol we have a horse (maybe also a mule), an elk, a cat and a golden retriever✨.

I also found it particularly interesting how you implemented the hobbies! To be honest, I haven't read the flavor text for all of them yet, but I picked sewing as soon as I saw it as an option (no reason, I just liked the idea). My MC chose to be a healer, so learning that they were the most trusted with stitching up wounds was a really nice touch. (Not to mention they can—and will—make/mend clothing for Zahn in secret and then surprise them while they least expect it… >:P) Once their journey is over and the MC comes back to Stonebrook, they're going to wait for Nathanael to pass by with his cart and give Shadow a little kitty sweater💖.

This is already too long, sorryy; I just get very excited when I find a story that pulls me in and refuses to let go. Seriously, I keep thinking about it way too much lol. I'm usually a simple lurker and nothing but, however, I do believe there's never enough praise and encouragement! You've done amazing so far, and I know it's only going to get better. (Can't wait to meet the rest of the cast; I keep daydreaming about Rune.. it's getting serious)

Thank you for your hard work, and I hope you have a nice and cozy rest of the weekend! <33

No worries, Anon, sometimes you just have a lot to say! ^_^

I am so glad you enjoyed the chapter! I am hoping to update it soon. I'm adding a few extra optional moments to spend with all three of your camping companions. Fingers crossed for more shenanigans.

Nathanael cracks me up too. I find fun in writing for all of them, but I feel like he gives me more liberties. I wrote the oats line and made myself crack up, but thought most wouldn't find it quite as funny so I'm glad you did! Also, your imagination is pretty much spot on with that scenario!

The hobby section was fun, but also a little bit of a slog for me to write since it was huge, so you won't find a ton of differences. The exception is the singing hobby. I really want to incorporate original music in some way, but I have zero - absolute zero - skills in it, including writing lyrics. I went a little extra, and I found a small artist to help me out, though the type of song I asked for was like waaay out of their normal wheelhouse, lol. I think they did a wonderful job. They are listed in the credits too.

I can't wait to give you a chance to spoil Zahn a bit! They need it and will adore you for it! Well, they will adore you pretty well regardless, lol. Shadow does not like clothing, but he's also getting attached to MC - best bed he's tried probably ever - so he'll make an exception to wear the little sweater.

I am so glad that you are living a bit in my little world. I can't wait for you to experience more! Thank you so much for the wonderful message, it lit up my day! As someone who usually just lurks as well, your reaching out warms my heart. ^_^

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Its been on my mind for a while. Does Jade put in the warm water first then the milk? Or milk then the warm water when making tea? Also how would he respond if he witnessed some making the worst brew of tea? I'm saying nuking it the microwave, adding in things you do not put in tea or at least not at the same time.

This'll be a nice palate cleanser after all... that.

Also, I drink tea, like, a lot and have never once heard of someone putting the milk in first. Genuinely had no idea people did that. The more you know, I guess.

Warning(s): none, unless you count the atrocities the reader commits by making the worst tea in the world

"What... ah, what are you doing, (Y/N)?" Jade asked you one day.

"Making tea." You responded. "Why're ya so curious, something wrong?"

"No, it's... it's just that, well... none of those would be good in tea...!" He had a very forced looking smile on his face.

You were mixing ingredients you've never even heard of before. Magical plants that only exist in Twisted Wonderland, items that are typically used to curse people, jelly, jam, fruit, you were just putting everything in there.

It felt less like you were making tea and more like you were making a potion.

You put in the teabag, the milk, and then to top it all off, you put it in the microwave.

"Ah, um, (Y/N), I-I highly suggest you-"

"Huh? Were you saying something?" You asked.

"...no, nothing at all."

The microwave beeped, and you grabbed your... well, can you even call this 'tea' anymore?

You stirred everything around, added way too much sugar, and-

Ta-da!! Your tea was done!

"(Y/N) whatever unholy mixture of ingredients you just made is literally glowing bright green I HIGHLY suggest you not drink it."

You took a biiiiiig sippy all while Jade was trying his best to not think too hard about what that... thing could possibly taste like.

"Ohhh!!! That was sooooooooo good!" You said to yourself. "You want some, Jade?"

"No-! Y-you can have it! I would hate to steal such a... um... flavourful drink from you..." He said, looking away.

"Alright then, more for me!"

Jade is not afraid of many things.

But after this? He is DEFINITELY scared of you now.

[slocumjoe]

If you were to rate the Fo4 companions from most to least favourite how would you rate them?

I can't list them in order, because I have too many feelings on them....and also, I love them all! It's just...there's such a Rollercoaster of quality of writing, of character concept, of VA performance, of actual attention and care given to the meat-and-potatoes aspects...

Like, I can say I have a favorite (Danse) and a least favorite (Piper) and a dude in the middle who I give not a crap about (Deacon), but I still like these characters??? They're fun! Its just, I like my idea of them more than what's actually there.

So, uhhhh

RORY TALKS ABOUT THE COMPANIONS 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

this is basically a long-post of a bunch of mini-essays, so grab a snack or nice bev and get cozy

Cait, to me, is a prime example of "this character sounds better on paper". I've already complained about her three greatest flaws; being bloated, being mishandled, and being a very confused character. If I were to describe Cait, it would be that she's a troubled young woman who was traumatized all her life, but understands that it's effected her heavily and wants to work past it and better herself.

In game, she's...an Irish Girl. She talks about drinking and fucking and fighting. If not that, she's detailing her absolutely horrific life. It gives me tonal whiplash. I feel like they were too busy adding things on rather than fleshing her out. I mean, really...what is the significance of the Tough Irish Girl type in the wasteland, where everyone acts that way? Is Cait an example of your average wastelander, someone whos supposed to show the daily life in this world? Well...no, that can't be it, she's put away from others, an outsider who doesn't fit in whatever circumstances she finds herself in. She doesn't belong with raiders, she doesn't fit into the average civilian life. So, is she about ostracization and how even after being nuked, there still is a society to ostracize people? That is brought up in text, but that's not at all Cait's thing, that concept is with Hancock.

I travel with Cait to quickly get her affinity up to speedrun her "recovery" (see the Cait breakdown to learn my thoughts on That Fucking Chair) because I want her to get better...but I don't like traveling with her that much. It's not just that she often disagrees with my usual choices, she's just rather flat. I don't get the impression that the writers really considered her psychology, what she stood for, what someone should or could take away from her.

But I like her conceptually. There's a lot of fun and emotional catharsis to be had with a traumatized character like her, someone who has to navigate life after escaping her bad situations, and not knowing what to do with the survival instincts she had to cultivate, but no longer needs.

Codsworth is inoffensive to me, and I like sassy but polite characters. I find them refreshing in settings like Fallout. I had more fun imagining his lines as thinly-veiled bitching than sincerity, though. I think he's fine, just simple. Simple is best, sometimes. I wouldn't trust Beth to give the indentured servitude robot an even remotely palatable story, given how they handled the synths and their whole thing...

But Codsworth, I like having him around. He's the lemon water to the black coffee, sugary soda, whiskey, and occasional cups of tar. He's needed at a palette cleanser.

Curie should have been a main plot companion, argue with the wall. She's a Ms. Nanny who becomes a synth, which are functionally human beings. She has a lot of narrative potential, being an example and counterargument for many different things.

Unfortunately, she's kept mostly a secret, being the most hidden companion, and she's left as a simple French maid fantasy. I'm not even sure why they bothered to make her a doctor. It has nothing to do with how she's actually handled and presented. Curie's more often blushing than meaningfully interacting with the world. She talks to Amari, she becomes a synth, and the rest of her story is just her going KYAA~ at the SS. I wish they gave her some edge, some weirdness. I like my version where she's this slightly pretentious, condescending, incredibly old-seeming entity that clearly doesnt come from around here.

Danse...my boy. My boy. I adore him. You don't need me to explain why. And you don't need me to explain why his incomplete writing infuriates me.

I've said before he's very similar to Hancock, and since I have something else I want to discuss about with Johnny down in this, I'll use Danse's slot to discuss it, very quickly.

Danse and Hancock are remarkably similar people and characters, even there is parts that drift or parallel in their differences.

Substance dependency (Hancock does chems, Danse is a canonical alcoholic)

They both struggled to find their footing and place in the world, and hate the people they were in their act 1's (Hancock's takes place during his founding of Goodneighbor, Danse's after BB)

They're fiercely loyal and protective of 'their people', even if it can take a LOT for them to consider someone 'their people'

Both are suicidal and identity plays a huge part (Hancock pretends to be someone he isn't, Danse is desperate to be the person he thought he was this whole time/hates that he isn't who he thought he was)

Both of these characters are two sides of the same coin. It's just that Danse's upbringing led him to believe in authority and control being the best way to help and take care of the wasteland, Hancock's upbringing (filled with corrupt authority and control) led him to believe in an egalitarian, we-all-lift mindset where the people have the power, he's just the guy who people talk to about any issues. It's somewhat implied that Cutler was similar to Hancock, judging by Danse's few lines about Cutler.

So uuuhhh Todd where the fuck is the last 2 arcs for danse and last arc for hancock? todd? todd where the fu

As said above, Deacon is nothing to me. I like him. I don't care about him much. I think he's fun to play with, but the moment you start getting into his backstory/angst, I slide right the fuck off.

Okay, the Barb thing. Dead wife. Fucking boring story, done to death. At the point I met Deacon, I had already met Mac, Nick, knew of Longfellow and his deal. So it was like "JESUS they really dont know any other reason for a dude to be sad, do they." But the thing that keeps me from caring about Deacon is that no one can agree if Barb is real. If that actually happened.

...his backstory is supposed to inform his character. Why is Deacon doing this? Because of his backstory. If his backstory isn't real, we know nothing about Deacon, and he is, functionally, not a character. Why does Deacon lie if Barb didnt happen? Dunno. He just...does. Why is Deacon helping synths? Uhh...we needed an RR companion? Deacon's character rides or dies on Barb. If she's real, then the rest of him makes sense. She's the windex and towel to the cloudy glass house that is the rest of him. If she isn't, Deacon...doesn't matter, in any meaningful way. He's a guy in the RR who lies about everything, which means you can't care about him. Because there is nothing to care about, because it's all bullshit.

So, that's my thoughts on Deacon, in-canon. I don't know what his deal is or if his proposed deal is genuine, so I can't click with him. But in my own canon, Barb is real, so my Deacon ken-doll does appeal to me. But in Fallout 4, in text, I regard him the same as I do Tom Bombadil. To give you an idea of how flimsy Deacon is in text, a prevailing fan theory from around 2017-18 was that Deacon was Mrs. Rosa's son. Mrs. Rosa was a pre-war neighbor. Her son was a kid. The fact that Deacon is so weird and fluid and almost omniscient isn't a plus for me, it isn't a point of fascination. It's a puzzle that I know doesn't have a finished product, so I leave and go hang out with Danse, who can't speak if he isn't being absurdly blunt.

Gage is a character that deserved a better DLC. The more I think about Nuka World the more I kinda wish it was just Gage and the handmade rifle, instead the map...but that's about Nuka World. Gage himself could have easily been a swing and a miss and fall face-first into the dirt, but he's a surprisingly well-written character? There are layers of psychology with him. You can look at an action or opinion he has, and map it to something that happened to him. You can literally unravel why he does what he does, is who he is. His writers had a concept for him, and they worked backwards to understand why he would become that way.

What really sells him is his VA. Rolston put his whole pussy into that performance. Gage has so many lines that would be utter cringe if not full-assed. The "That vault suit makes your ass look great" line comes to mind...i've seen modded followers with similar lines, and jesus christ i want to pepper spray some of them. It helps that Gage has multiple faucets to his personality. It also helps that he is intentionally distinct from the other raiders, and occasionally doesn't associate with them, himself. It gives him standards and principles, which help give him shape and dimension. Good character. He isn't my favorite, that's Danse, but he's up there.

Hancock is such a waste of a character and it boggles me no one else seems to think so.

He starts on a bad note because his core reason for existing, is Beth wanted a historical figure reference. There's a reason he gives you a history lesson about John Hancock, it's so everyone knows exaclty what Johnny Ghoulie is a reference to. It's not even so much a reference, because it is a direct mimicking. I cannot stand the moments in 4 where something exists because the team learned a fun historical trivia fact, and wanted to pepper in that they did research. I've already bitched about their love of this with the Railroad at some point on this blog.

I genuinely wouldn't mind Hancock if he wasn't pulling so limp-dickedly. It's specifically the contrivance of explaining why this dude is called John Hancock, in John Hancock's clothing. It's okay if they pull from history and allude to it, But Hancock is just...some history stuff tacked on, with no real thought or care. The clothing, the name, the catchphrase. I feel like this is Disney's Hamilton on Ice.

But moving away from that...what is the point of Hancock?

Is his character about drug use and addiction? NOPE, only Cait's addiction is noteworthy. Okay...idenity issues, since he's larping? Not really. It could be, but that's not at all of interest to the story/writing itself. The Hancock thing is an aesthetic, not a trait. So, don't have that either. Is his character about leadership, in any capacity? Kinda, I guess. He briefly mentions insecurities and guilt about it a few times. But if I said "Hancock's story is about leadership", most people would raise an eyebrow and ask why. Not because it's...wrong, it's just not prominent enough to say that's his story, definitively.

So...what is the point of him? What should I take away from Hancock? Duty to the people? Preston does that, and does it better/more explicitly. Regret about past actions? Mac does that. Protecting the people from political corruption? Piper's thing (AND WE'LL GET TO FUCKING PIPER.) What is there to Hancock that isn't done by another companion? It isn't his depression because ALL these bitches be suicidal. What is unique to Hancock? Pretending to be someone else? Deacon. Drugs? Cait. Trying to figure out who you are, removed from the expections that come with having been someone else? Nick. Leadership, and the failures of it? Danse. Struggling to navigate the world in a new, different body, as a new person, functionally? Curie.

The only thing I can think of is mentioned only twice, and is immediately brushed off; the questionable nature of your leader being buddy-buddy with you, and acting like 'one of the bros' even as they hold power over you and have resources you don't. Parasocial government, if you will. It's brought up by Finn and Bobby No-Nose and is shut down/forgotten.

So...the only thing unique to Hancock, and it's regulated to, like, 3 individual throw-away lines. 2 of which you can miss.

Great.

Again, I like him. I just like him when I'm writing him, and can actually have him work through his shit and concepts. But as he stands, he's just...hey, y'know John Hancock? New Vegas also pulled from history, but New Vegas had shit to say about it. There was debating. There was actual philosophy and politics. There wasn't some dude named Caesar who was just...hanging out. What does Fallout 4 say about John Hancock?

Here's something you can say about Hancock; Hancock owned slaves. He inherited them from his uncle, Thomas Hancock. He later freed them due to terms in Thomas' will. But the guy Fallout 4 meagerly puts up as a figure of freedom and independence, and duty to fellow man, was a slave owner, and had slave owning family.

So, what does that mean for our Hancock? Who looked up to this guy, mantled him, and this guy is, in some way, a perversion of his own ideals.

And our Hancock's favorite quote is from Lincoln. Who started the Civil War. Did Lincoln own slaves? Contested, i couldn't find any clear answers. But Hancock mantles a slave owner, using a quote from the president that would try to outlaw slavery, while pushing for freedom and independence and anarchist rhetoric.

Is that the best you can do with Hancock? No. But it's an example.

MacCready, I've compared to a can of Campbell's soup. He's simple, he's decently-done. He's not Codsworth's lemon water but he isn't Cait's tar. I often struggle to write MacCready because he's so simple. There's not much there, he isn't a complex character. He's not even a complex person. And I like that! I like that the grumpy mercenary is a normal guy, who's just going through the motions and has simple desires. His type is often tar and I'm happy to see that subverted.

Its just that his lack of complexity means there's not much to say about him that you don't already know. He's accessible, which is a good thing. Most people don't want to drink tar, but if you're reaching for a fun beverage, you're not often reaching for water, either.

I think the best thing about MacCready is how excellent he is as a romance option. I think he's the strongest romantic choice in the game, period, largely due to him being a simple guy. I would go for MacCready IRL, because he's a good dad, he has good work ethic, and he's emotionally available and isn't afraid to talk feelings, without being a clusterfuck of issues. I love Danse, but you have to talk him out of suicide before you do anything, and he himself will admit that there's going to be a lot of issues simply because he doesn't know what he's doing or what he wants out of his new life.

You don't get that with MacCready. He knows what he wants and who he is and what he cares about. He's such a solid romantic interest, and there's incredible fic potential with the Sole Survivor and MacCready both as soon-to-be grieving parents.

On the flipside, I can't understand people who romance Nick and think its all sunshine and roses. Mini-rant, but /rad-roche (i think thats their user?) has the right idea, with Nick being a hot mess of unresolved issues who is never not projecting or in denial. Nick is not fit for a romantic relationship, not in the state you see him in game. Especially not before Far Harbor. Especially if you don't get the good ending of Far Harbor. I know, bisexual women, I'm sorry. He's got more shit than Danse and Hancock combined. I write romantic Nick prompts as if this isn't the case, but make no mistake. Me giving yall what you want is not me under the impression that this is a good idea.

Anyway. Nick himself.

Dead wife. Booo. I've already complained about his dumbass quest, which i really dislike for all its contrivances. Also, I find him mismatched with the world around him, and I wish there was more attention paid to that. He's a stock character playing out in real life (in Fallout 4's real life, that is). He's a 40's noir flick detective. This character does not belong in a post-apocalypse. This is an urban setting character. Fallout is not urban.

But that doesn't mean he can't exist! I just wish they went more ham with it. I mean, how does a detective function in a lawless wasteland, full of secrets simply because there's so few people see shit happening, know what goes down? It's an information blackout, out there, and a detective is all about information. Nick deserved to be let loose and go full camp on it all. Instead, we got 2 piddly little piss stains of "mystery" side quests. With someone as clashing as Nick, you really need to either sand down the edges to make him fit, or make the fact he's so weird part of the Thing. Nick is played incredibly straight, and given that that man is clearly lgbtq+, i find that almost a waste. Let this man be deranged. This is why Far Harbor is best Nick. He's holding together in the base game, but i don't want him holding together. I want him to suffer. I want him to monolog like Hamlet before driving a cane into someone's forehead.

Now, as for Piper...

Oh, Piper.

You were doomed.

You were so fucking doomed.

I've written about Piper and her shitty paper multiple times, so if you want a refresher, go to my blog > pinned post > meta section, and find the Piper posts. My peer review of The Synthetic Truth will be your best look into what I think of Piper.

The thing is, if you removed her awfully done journalism aspect, I'd like her base form! When she isn't going on and on about shit that's either wrong, baseless, or presumptuous, she's sassy, she's community-orianted, she's mischievous, she's kinda sardonic. She has a sugar problem. She's a burnt out 20 year old with a parentification issue. There's a lot to like here! The problem is they set up the journalism, fuck it up, and then veer hard-right and crash into the "I'm raising a kid when I'm not even an adult either" thing, where it had no build up or time to unfold naturally.

In my own little world, Piper's journalism fuckups are addressed and have consequences. I don't want her smoothed out and perfect, I want her glaring flaws to be intentional and acknowledged. And that just doesn't happen in text.

Ive also got a ramble on my thoughts on Preston. I've said before I don't like his voice acting most of the time, and I actually got a lot of pushback?? But the people who disagreed didnt...disagree...they just pointed out that John Gentry had a gnarly recording circumstance. I think it was that his first takes weren't supposed to be the final product, because he wasn't really intended to be the VA? Something like that, I forget. Point is, I said John Gentry obviously had a rough time in the booth, and wasn't given a fair shot, and people went "No, his voice acting is good! John Gentry just had a rough time with his line recording and wasn't given a fair shot!"

M-ma'am. Thats...what I said.

If it makes anyone feel better, I don't like the majority of the voice acting in this game...a lot of it is very 'modded skyrim character.' Remember the Skyrim Romance Mod? Thats what most of it sounds like to me. Remember Mrs. Peabody? Holy shit. Do not let anyone involved in that cook ever again. I also have personal beef with Nate. The male VA for the SS...someone, somewhere, made a bunch of choices. It was the wrong one, frequently. (The only good male SS line i can think of is the one romancing Danse. Has some texture to it. It's shy and cute, very good)

As for Preston himself, love him, love my paragon good-guy characters. He's such a sweetheart but he's down for bloodshed. I adore those kinds of characters, those "do no harm, take no shit" types. He's treated as a fluffball by fanon (when not suffering racist ass takes or absolute disregard), but Preston has got some lovely edges to him. If you go through his dialogue page and his approvals, you'll find he can be hard at times. There are moments he approves of 'asshole' choices, which is very fun. I love this dude.

Anyway hot take. IF HE WAS WHITE, ALL OF THESE BITCHES WOULD LIKE HIM. YEAH. I SAID IT. He'd be a depressed white man who's buff and kind and snarky, and you Danse girlies, you Nick girlies, you Deacon girlies, all of them would love him too. He is tailor made for standom but nooo, he isn't #FFFFFF so I guess he's doomed to stupid ass settlement jokes.

Yall lack taste. Hawk puhtoo.

SPEAKING OF AWFUL FUCKING TASTE, LEAVE MY BABY X6-88 ALONE.

X6-88 is so unappreciated. Grotesquely so, by both Bethesda and fans.

X6-88, I've said many times, is a spoiled rich man's cat who sits all poised and hisses if you so much as look at it if you're below a certain tax bracket. He's fussy and egotistical and snippy and dislikes bugs, children, water, heights, and generally anything above ground. He gushes over Danse and thinks he's the coolest. He'll let you kill the Institute if you're Railroad or Minutemen and have high affinity with him. He'll brag about getting to travel with you with his courser buddies. He's a fucking dork.

X6-88 is a nerd/prep who could be goth if left in a Hot Topic to run wild, but until then, he's in a suit for his private school and he's going to sit on HIS bench at recess and snipe at the rival school children with his friends and then he goes home and complains that his english eacher failed him on his Roman history test for writing it in perfect Latin. That is X6-88.

If you don't like X6-88 we cannot be friends. Fuckiung look at him. He's such a little shit. He's perfect.