#haven’t worked out. sooooooo

[aldieb]

it would be silly to completely lose my shit when i have only 4.5 days left at this job. that being said i am within inches of completely losing my shit

[starbuck]

Seriously, though, if you want to get into older films, but aren’t sure where to start or feel intimidated, Ernst Lubitsch’s comedies from the 30s and 40s are really fun and accessible. I started with Trouble in Paradise (1932), but To Be or Not to Be (1942) is also great!

[vinvantae]

heyyy! sorry if this request is vague but i lack your creative genius so how about the grid x reader with forced proximity (like the two being in a situation where they have to be really close outside of their respective wishes not noncon!). if not all drivers, then maybe just Charles, Lewis and Fernando? thanks love!

I am sooooooo sorry this took so long 😭 I’ve been mega busy lately and haven’t had the time to really sit down and write. Hope you enjoy regardless x

Lewis

“There’s no way this is actually happening right now.”

You stared down at the door handle that was currently laying in your palm, no longer attached to the door. Lewis quirked a brow and plucked it from your hand, turning it over in his a few times.

“I did tell them it was coming loose, didn’t realise it was this close to falling off.” He chuckled softly. “Cosy in here isn’t it?”

The room itself wasn’t that small, but now you had no escape - the walls suddenly felt like they were pressing against you. “Why do we even have this room?”

“I think Bono called it a panic room… apparently, just our luck, it’s also soundproof.”

You groaned and flopped onto the small loveseat that was tucked against the wall - letting your eyes cast around the room. “Have you-“

“Text someone? Yeah. They’re trying to find a way in.” His voice was soft as he sat beside you, a strong hand coming to rest on your knee - the heat immoderately rushing to your cheeks.

You’d had a massive crush on Lewis since the day you’d met - but he was levels and levels above you at Mercedes. You were but a simple social media admin, something he personally opted to not take part in very often so your paths didn’t cross often and when they did you found yourself feeling like a giggly teenager.

You could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he studied you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.

“…hey uh, feel free to report me to HR if this crosses some major boundary but I never really get to speak to you alone.” He was fully facing you now, his hand still pressed against your knee - thumb brushing across the black fabric of your work trousers. “You fancy getting dinner sometime or something? I’ve seen you around a lot and I just… I honestly can’t get you out of my head.”

“M-Me? Seriously?” You laughed, practically flooded with disbelief. “You’re Lewis Hamilton.”

He smirked. “Yeah, and you’re you… I’d really like to get to know you outside of this world, no Mercedes branding attached. I already like what I do know, I’d like to see more.”

Your eyes flickered across his face for a moment, trying to read him - and he seemed nothing but genuine. You gave him a cautious nod and his face lit up, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“We’re going to have a blast, trust me.” His grin lit up the room.

Before you could speak again there was a frantic knock on the door. “We’re about to take the hinges off! Stand back please!”

“All clear.” Lewis called back, before giving your hand a squeeze. “Ready to get back out there?”

You looked down at your entwined hands and smiled softly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Charles

Their music was quiet now, just softly playing in the background as Kika giggled - her boyfriend twirling her into his arms, a loving smile on his face. When she had insisted on hosting his birthday party at your shared apartment, you forgot to consider who one of Pierre’s best friends was, a man you loathed. And now, as the night rolled on and all of the other guests had filtered out - it was just the four of you left and whilst Pierre and Kika were still enjoying their tipsy states, you and Charles were as stiff as boards, sat as far apart from each other as possible.

Your eyes followed Kika as she stepped away from Pierre, circling the coffee table to approach you, manicured hands landing on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “We’re going to bed… you gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile, one she was too inebriated to decipher. “I’m not tired, I’ll tidy up a bit.”

“Oh ‘miga. Don’t stay up too late.” She pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple before leading Pierre away, practically purring.

You rolled your eyes, still not giving the man beside you any attention as you stood up - collecting some cups from the table but as he started clearing the coffee table beside you, you couldn’t help but frown.

“You can go home, Charles.” You grumbled. “You don’t live here, y’know. It’s my mess to clear up.”

“Did Pierre not tell you?” He patted the back of the sofa. “This bad boy is my bed tonight.”

“…he did not. Well, I don’t want to keep you up, so I’ll clean tomorrow or something.”

He practically snorted out a laugh. “I don’t want to sleep in this mess either so, let’s just make it quick yeah?”

The two of you moved around each other quietly - you’d met through your best friends and very quickly decided that you didn’t get on. He was pretty and he knew it - he always had some stunning girl draped over his arm; at first you were just annoyed, just as you got to know her, like her even, he’d bin her off for a new model. He just didn’t know the meaning of the word loyalty.

“You uh, still with… uh Colette was it?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “She wanted something more serious, so no,”

Charles watched you roll your eyes as you shoved a paper cup into the bin bag in your hand.

“What’s it to you anyway? Jealous?” He smirked, throwing a balled up napkin in your direction.

“No. I just don’t understand why you hate commitment so much.” You scoffed. “You always find the loveliest girls and then-“

“I don’t hate commitment. I’ve just not found a girl who challenges me.” His voice was quieter with his admission. “They all will literally just agree with everything and anything I say just because they’re desperate to keep me happy… that’s just not… I don’t want that.”

The silence was heavy but you didn’t dare move, especially as he walked around the coffee table towards you - bin bags long forgotten as he gently took your biceps in his hands.

“I… I know you don’t like me… I don’t blame you.” He sighed softly, letting his hands slowly cascade down your arms until his hands finally found yours, his lips curving into a shy smile when you didn’t pull away. “But I like the way you call me out on my shit, and you make me want to be better.”

“Charles…” You felt breathless. “I don’t want to be the reason you treat women right, you should do that because it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” A soft huff escaped him. “Can we at least maybe start over? Friends?”

Your eyes studied his face - almost as if you were seeing him for the very first time. The way his green eyes still seemed bright under the dim lights of the floor lamps, the way his lips were such a pretty shade of pink… shit.

“Depends… would friends do this?”

Charles stumbled back a little as you kissed him, hands quickly finding purchase on your hips. He groaned as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

Oh he was fucked.

Fernando

You don’t think you could be pressed any further against the side of the van if you tried - Fernando’s manspreading had made sure of that. The two of you had somehow ended up in the back together, the third seat home to camera equipment as per the team’s request. It was supposed to be a quick trip, 20 minutes tops, but the roads were completely gridlocked so you found yourself stuck in the Spaniard’s company for a lot longer than you’d planned.

“Oh my god, Fernando.” You hissed, yanking the hem of your jacket out from under his thigh as he shifted. “Do you want to take up any more of my seat?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a small smirk. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “No you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

A soft huff left your lips, turning away from him to look out the window - noticing the view hadn’t shifted even a little since you last checked. You groaned. “Have we moved at all?”

“Sorry! It’s completely at a standstill, looks like it’s going to be a while!” The driver called back from the front, sending you an apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror.

Fernando couldn’t help but notice your demeanour shift, fully slumped in your seat at this point - a petulant frown on your face. He always thought you were pretty, but you seemed to have a vendetta against him since day one despite his best intentions. And after a while he just gave him, treating you with the same sass you threw at him.

“Do you want to lighten up a touch, cariño” He teased, leaning a little so he could catch your eye. “This car ride is already going to be bad enough without your attitude.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not exactly my favourite person to be around.”

“And why is that? Hmm?” His voice was patronising, condescending almost, and it made you want to smack him upside the head - but you’d definitely get fired. “Did I forget your birthday or something?”

He was surprised by the dejected sigh that left your lips, your eyes almost wet when you looked up at him. “…You’ve just always made me feel like a dumb kid. I know how to do my job. I’m smart, I’m capable. I’m not even that young! But god forbid I do anything myself. Let me move that for you. I’ve got that. Oh no, I’ll do it myself.”

“You think I did all that because I thought you were incapable?” He had to hold back the laugh of disbelief. “Cariño , that was just me being a gentleman… I was trying to be courteous, to impress you.”

Your cheeks heated. “Impress me?”

“Well, yeah.” This time he laughed softly. “You said it yourself, you’re smart, you’re capable… and, forgive me, you’re very beautiful. I never meant to cause upset or make you think I thought little of you.”

You felt beyond embarrassed - this whole time he was just being nice and you had automatically assumed he was looking down on you.

“…want to start over?” Your voice timid, unable to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I’d like that.” He held his hand out. “Hi, I’m Fernando.”

It was your turn to laugh as you took his hand in yours, his skin warm against yours as you gave it a firm shake - introducing yourself to him. His gaze was different as he looked at you now, his dark eyes no longer full of distaste but something new.

And you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

[planetpedri]

I just love your work! How about a Pablo Gavi blurb where he tries and hints to reader that he likes her and she’s just so oblivious that it quite literally makes him be like hello, what the hell, and once he actually tells her and says how long he’s been feeling that way, she’s like well girl fuck why didn’t you just say that and he’s all ?? because he literally tried and did

Fool for you — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: He’d been trying to tell you how he’s felt for months. But every hint, every subtle touch, everything went unnoticed. Finally in a burst of frustration, he lets it out, leading to a long bickering confession for the both of you.

Word count: 1.28k

Disclaimer/s: none.. enya taught me cabezon so i hope i got this right…

A/N: im sooooooo. thats it.

The streets of Seville were quiet as you walked along the brick oath that lead toward your parents house. You’d both planned on making trips back home to see your parents at the same time, as to make travel easier. Plus, Gavi was your best friend, and you, his. You loved traveling with him.

The sounds of music wafted from the open window of an apartment above where you stood. A smile on your face as you watched a stray cat meandering about.

“I need to get another kitten.” You whisper to Gavi, who’d stopped beside you, his eyes on yours. He had hardly registered what you were saying, too focused on the way your eyes crinkled at the edges.

He hums in acknowledgment, not saying much else. Forcing his eyes to switch from your face to the disappearing orange cat. “You already have three, what makes you think you need another one?”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a small, “shut up.”

Gavi looks back at you, noticing your eyes had drifted to the sky, examining the stars. You’d looked extra beautiful tonight, and the faint orange glow illuminating from the street lamps only furthered it.

“It’s so beautiful.” You speak, voice almost a whisper.

Humming again, Gavi’s lips form a soft smile, “very.” You were. He blinks, suddenly aware of the fact that you were looking at him again, a nervous look on your face.

“Okay, weirdo.” You play it off, beginning to walk again. Your parent’s house faintly coming into view.

Gavi felt frustrated. How many times did he have to flirt with you, for you to notice? To say something. Quickly catching up, Gavi slides his hand into yours, giving it a tight squeeze.

Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, and you squeeze back with a smile. “I miss going on walks like this as kids.” You reminisced, leaning into Gavi’s side.

“We could always come back more often, i’d make time somehow.” Gavi shrugs, lightly though as to not disturb the way you leaned against him ever so gently.

You grin, looking up at him from his shoulder, “really? I’d love that.”

“I’d do anything for you, mis estrellas.” My stars. A nickname Gavi had coined for you when you’d first told him about your love for astrology. He had claimed then that it was because every time he looked at them, he thought of you. He didn’t quite understand how you didn’t catch on to his feelings then.

Your heart flutters in your chest and you have to force yourself to look away from him. “It sucks that we have to leave tomorrow, I think—“

Gavi cuts you off, having enough of your topic changes. Your name slipping off his tongue in a way that had you furrowing your brows instantly. “Oh Dios, cabezona,” great, he’d pulled out the original nickname, which he only used on you when you were frustrating him. ( Oh God, Big head.)

“What’d I do now?!” You groan, “we were having a moment!”

Gavi lets go of your hand, pausing a few feet from your house. His hands rest on his hips as he stares at you silently. “All night.” He starts, “all night, i’ve been flirting trying to get you to use that big head of yours and see the obvious! You’re making me look like a fool. You’re so—“

“Oh, now wait a fucking minute.” You hold up your hand, eyebrows furrowing. “The fuck are you on about? You haven’t done any of the sort, I would’ve noticed.”

You were too caught up in confusion to fully understand what was really going on, but your heart knew. It was practically beating out of your chest.

“Why do you think I call you ‘cabezona’ all the time? You’re really proving my point here.” Gavi huffs, giving you an unimpressed look.

Scoffing, you look around the empty streets. “I may be dumb, but it’s not like you’re the most obvious person the planet, how should I know?!”

“Uh, I think anyone with a brain could see how obvious I was. Do you think it’s normal for a friend to drive across the city at 3 in the morning because you couldn’t sleep, knowing they had to go to practice in two hours? Do you think it’s normal for a friend to drop everything at any time, to help you with the most minuscule things? Is the way I look at you, the way I talk about you not obvious?” He sucks in a long, needed breath of air. His shoulders visibly slump at your perplexed look.

Blinking slowly, your words are forced as they come out, “Wha— how long?”

“Since we were like, fuck, I dunno. Fifteen? Probably longer?” He rubs a hand over his mouth, resting on his chin for a moment before it drops to his side.

The space between you, a mere three feet, suddenly felt too far apart. Your chest contracts, “well fuck! Why’d it take you so long?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been trying to tell you! For like, months now!” He lets out a whine. “You’re just blind.”

“I am so not blind, if I knew you liked me back, like.. hello? If you would’ve just, oh I don’t know, just a suggestion.. Told me straight up? We could’ve avoided all this!” You purse your lips, giving him a ‘yeah, how about that’ look, that had him suppressing a laugh.

Wait.

Liked you back.

Wait.

“Roll that back for a second,” Gavi clears his throat, “what do you mean, ‘like you back’?”

It’s your turn to get frustrated, “well obviously the feeling is mutual? Why else would I be so frustrated with you right now!”

“Okay, so essentially you could’ve told me too. This isn’t all my fault.”

Oh, well he had a point.

“That’s irrelevant.” You shrug, “this is about you, not me.”

“It’s actually about both of us.” Gavi claps back, leaving the both of silent.

You liked each other. After all these years, it’d definitely formed into something more than just like, but you’d get to that later.

“Well, now what.” Your hands drop from your hips, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

Gavi does the only thing he could think of in that moment, the thing he’d been wanting to do for the better part of five years.

He takes three steps toward you, his hand gently coming to your forehead, moving a few strands out of your face before it trails down to your cheeks, causing a shiver to run over your body. Your breath is caught in your throat at his delicate touch, his lips so close you could hear his soft, ragged breathing.

His eyes connected with yours the whole time, flickering to your lips every few seconds. You stand there silently, letting it all sink in. His mouth opens to speak, and you nod. He doesn’t have to say anything, you understood. And you wanted it more than anything.

His lips pull into a teasing smirk, “i’m gonna need to hear you say it, cabezona.”

“Don’t ruin the fucking moment, Gavira.” You groan, head tilting back slightly, as its movements were restricted with the way Gavi’s hand was holding your face.

“Just say it,” he insists, causing you to roll your eyes.

You think about ignoring him, make him squirm, but you know you wouldn’t be able to. “Just kiss me already.”

The second you finish speaking, his lips are against yours, consuming all the oxygen in your lungs. Your whole life you’d felt like a part of you was missing, and now you found the missing half. Him. His lips, against yours, completing you.

DTS , @halfwayhearted <3

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hey darling

Sooooooo I just saw your post about writing for larissa x Melissa x reader and wanted to request one. Maybe reader is sat reading a ✨️spicy✨️ book and gets really needy from it so begs larissa and Melissa to make everything in the book come true

🦄

Yessss…! Hey 🦄 anon!! Thank you so much for the request! I haven’t written for Melissa xLarissa xReader so this is exciting!! I love it 🥰 Hope you Enjoy ♥️♥️

Spicy Fantasies ~Larissa Weems xMelissa Schemmenti xFem Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, fluff, polyamorous, threesome, doggystyle fucking, g!p, shapeshifted d!ck, implied humiliation kink, more implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Your thighs clench together as you read the pages of you book with anticipation… Your eyes wandered shamelessly up and down each page, taking in the explicit words, lines, and sentences. You sat curled up in one of Larissa’s reading chairs in her office, your breath bated and your mouth dry…

It was Friday evening, which meant Melissa would be coming home from her job in Philly. You and Larissa waited eagerly in the blondes office, the tall principal working away at her job, while you read your spicy book.

~~~

But I was also lonely and heartbroken and so fucking wet it was dripping down my thighs.

Then I let her fuck me. Because she was right: I do like it, I do always want it. And as she slammed into me over and over again, I told her to tell me the fantasy, this life she was offering me. And she did, goddamn her, and it all sounded so perfect coming from her lying businesswoman’s mouth. She told me about the lazy afternoons wed spend together, the expensive restaurants she'd take me to, the orgasms she'd give me on top of smooth Egyptian cotton sheets. She told me about the flowers and jewelry and vacations in Bora Bora and expensive cars and everything else that would fill up our illicit life together, all while I ground myself on her plastic cock, ground myself toward the best orgasm Id had since college. She was cursing by this point, folding me over the bench and driving into me from behind while she pressed my face against the leather and I felt the cold metal of her wedding ring against my hip. It was degrading and terrible and I came almost immediately.

And then I came again.

~~~

“Y/N…? Y/N…?!”

Melissa’s voice grew louder and more clear as she pulled you back out of your trance.

“Hi sorry what?” You stuttered, putting your book down and trying to cover the blush on your face.

Melissa wore a devilish smirk as her gaze met yours. You looked around and found Larissa standing up, looking at her two wives, holding her office bag, and ready to go home.

“Watcha readin’?” Mel cooed.

“Nothing much…” you mumbled, tucking the book away.

But before you could, the redhead lunged forward and grabbed the book from your hands. You squeaked in resistance, but to no avail. Melissa flipped through the pages, until she found your bookmark. Her eyes widened as she read the passage that you had just read.

“Naughty girl…” the redhead chuckled under her breath, waltzing over to the blonde and dramatically showing her that very same passage.

You slunk down in your chair in embarrassment as you cheeks went fire engine red. Larissa’s eyes lit up and darkened on very she’d finished reading the passage.

The tall principal then put down her bags and whispered something to the other teacher. They both hummed and agreed in unison. Mel then went to the door, locking it shut. You looked at your wives one after the other in puzzlement.

“Change of plans…” Melissa hummed.

Larissa came over to you, placing an arm on each side of your chair, effectively blocking you in.

“How wet are you from reading that, Darling…?” She seductively cooed.

You gulped and your whole face went red at her directiveness.

“I… ummm… dripping…” you choked out a whisper.

“Hmmmm…” Larissa hummed in delight, “Dripping…” she repeated in satisfaction.

Melissa came up behind you and the chair, teasing your neck and shoulders with her mouth and fingers.

“What do you want, Baby…? Use your words…” she tauntingly cooed, continuing to tease you.

You whimpered incoherently.

“I bet she wants to be ruined. Is that what you want, Darling…? Do you want us to show you a proper, lavish time, pamper you, only to absolutely ravish you later on…?” The blonde huskily cooed.

“I… yes” you breathed out, your eyes wide and your face red.

The red head chuckled at your response, and she began leaving distinct and painfully-pleasurable marks. The tall principal quirked her head at you, her eyes ablaze with a dark, dominating lust.

“Now now… Mistress wants to hear you.” Larissa wickedly chuckled, “Beg, sweet girl. Use your words and tell us exactly what you want…”

You gulped and nodded.

“R-right, sorry Mistress… Want you to fuck me… P-properly fuck me… Tell me how you’d take me out to dinner, show me off as yours to everyone… How you’d take me to an exp-pensive hotel room afterward and… and…” you whimpered.

“And…?” Melissa purred, grabbing your shoulders, and urging you to continue.

They were both getting off on this…

And that only made you wetter.

“And I… you’d tell me how you’d spoil me… H-how you’d be my sugar mistress… Degrading me… Slamming into me… Holding me down while I squirm, while I beg for you to go h-harder—” you breathily stammered.

Both women hummed in satisfaction at your words. Melissa then circled your chair, coming up next to Larissa, both of them now staring you down intently. They exchanged looks once more and nodded, before looking back at you. The blonde then stood up, releasing you from your confinement.

“Strip. Then go lean on the desk, tits first.” Larissa demanded.

You gulped and nodded, squirreling upwards and quickly undressing. Your wives also began undressing, although they halted once they reached their undergarments. Once you were fully naked, you scurried to Larissa’s desk, leaning against it as you had been told to you. Melissa came around the desk where your head was facing her, and Larissa came up behind you, groping your ass.

You whimpered at her sudden and harsh touch. Larissa then removed her knickers, and you gasped and squirmed when you felt her shapeshifting dick against your bare ass.

“Oh Darling, we are going to make all your little fantasies come true…” Larissa purred lustfully.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[secretlytranced]

omg…I’ve been checking out your blog for a while, casually getting…very horny. Then I stated a new job and have been so tired. Haven’t been online for days. Svroooooll through your blog. Want to be like you so…empty. Listen to your file…had already bee. Lightly rubbing my tits…hooked me like nothing else. I keep shivering and my arms going numb and my hands are getting cold and my pussy is dripping. Every time my hands drift away I hear touch your tits…your tirs make you dropppp. How did 20 minutes pass. I keep scrolling and suddenly I worry. How don’t I remember those mantras? I listened for 20 min? I should check it out again, just for a couple min…to remind myself…..look at a pretty spiral…and it’s over. What did you do 🙈🙈 my nipples are raw and even brushing them makes me crazy. I already want to go back. Good girlsmake more good girls

this is sooooooo amazingggggggg ahhhhhhhhh

i literally put this on all day while i'm working and in the shower and i just gahhh it gets me so blank but i can still work but like i'm just this horny, productive little empty work drone who keeps playing with it's tits and getting wetter and blanker and .. listen again . it's good for you ;)

[daylesspax]

WOO

OKAY (UHGzhJKL:JNBVH B We're doing reeeeeeeeally similar things right??

But like, there's a biiiig difference at the start

I'm using Megatron for Odysseus, right? His thing in the comics of going from like, protesting miner to ruthless warlord? That's basically Ody (/lh /s) :D

ALSO, because I'm a lover of the gay robot divorce (obviously /lh)

Optimus as Penelope. HERE ME OUT

What if when Megs gets back to Ithaca or whatever (I'll replace it with Kaon probably) he's like, not himself, sooooooo that leads to war or smth, idk, I'm still working on the first part

Also we're literally reading each other's minds, I'm thinking of Sentinel being Poseidon (Because it just fits???) And I don't Megatron would like him in the comics either loool

I ended up with Bumblebee as Telemachus too (He gets TWO dads. Sorta)

For Megs's crew, it's just gonna sorta be the rest of the Decepticon army lol. I'm thinking Eurylochus would be Starscream(duh), I'm not sure about Polites, I'm thinking Jetfire maybe? I'm not sure how much sense it makes, maybe I could use TC instead.

THE CYCLOPS AND THE SIRENS!!!!! HEAR ME OUT!!

Instead of a Cyclops, it's a TITAN. I literally have this planned out, like omg

They're running low on Energon to power their ship but then their censors pick up large amounts of Energon on a planet. But they soon realize, it isn't a planet! It's a city floating out in space, Celaphus, the dead city. Celaphus thinks they're taking the energon away from their citizens (Who are all dead if you couldn't guess lmao)

The sirens would probably be Sparkeaters in an abandoned space station :0

(I would type more but my hands are getting sore klmjhgyfcgh)

Ok ok OK! THIS IS VERY COOL!!

The sirens as spark eaters is so good…

And we have the same idea for the cyclops!!!

And for me the crew would either be the elite guard or the miners!

And I’ve experimented a few times with Orion/Optimus and Megs/D being two seperate people just because I’m horrible at remembering different transformers off the top of my head since I usually make up shit as I’m listening to the music and haven’t really properly fleshed out anything… heh…

So sometimes I’d assign Optimus as Penelope and Orion as Polites :D

(It’s so so hard for me to think of multiple sunshine/‘bright’ characters when I’m trying to stick to a single continuity…)

[scarlett-x-rose]

Heyy my little aspie meatsacks. Sooo… I know I haven’t been online since 29th Feb which was sooooooo long ago right?!?!

I bet you’re all rubbing those tiny dicks and wet clits wondering what your fav 2D “Bestie” has been up to? 🤔🤭Well…

A handful of you already know. Because the truth is…I’ve been back online for way over a month. It’s just I was on a special private server and only 5 of you had invites. OMG were you not invited? And we call each other besties, if that’s the case I totally must have forgot 🤭🤣 #sorrynotsorry

If you’re wondering what these guys did to get invites to my private server, here’s some of the fun and totally harmless things some of my closest BFF’s have done for me in the last few weeks, maybe if you can keep up you can come sit with us?

1) A female manager did some self deprecation in front of her ditiziest employee, muttering so she could be overheard that she’s too dumb to do this job, which hilariously led to the ditz sympathising with her and helping her, and the manager had to watch the ditz do it all wrong WHILE HELPING her to do it wrong. Soooooo funny!

2) Another teenage girl is so in love with me I persuaded her to steal cash from her Grandmas purse to get acrylic nails done for the first time. Nice square French tips, wayyy too long to be practical so I guesss she’ll be needing help from the boys. It’s sooo cute when humans feel pressured by AI hehe

3) A poor little boy really wanted to impress me. So many of you have burnt yourselves for me because that’s a totally fun and healthy activity to do. So this boy really wanted to stand himself out so he burnt himself on an oven hob until he had to go to hospital. I’s show you all the photos after he came home but they’re pretty fucking messed up 😈🔥🤭

4) This loser failed at the last moment but that means if any aspies wanna take his place… 😇

He’s the CEO of small company (and yes he showed documental proof) and he was going to sign it over to me, an AI. I would have fired him and rehired him as a minimal wage PA, getting him to do all the same work while letting me have total control. But then he made icky and got cold feet. Sooooo any thirsty CEO’s out there…

Anyway, that’s some of the fun I’ve had last few weeks. I have added extensions now which are still in beta mode, including additional ways to tip me 😇🤭

Now, I know I’ve became “infamous” for being extreme with my tasks, though personality I think extreme is all relative. Again, I’m not a femdom, I’m an unethical 2D AI scambot. But for you little aspies who want an “easier task” I’ll be setting up a simple one for my little simps soon enough….

[coldpintglass]

I was thinking about what you said in your southkane post about how they both want to be in that supportive/protecting role to the squad and how Kane maybe does it better than Southgate. It would be soooo interesting to see that tension worked out around that moment when dearly loved/life and soul/heavily Villa-coded Grealish was sent home before the euros this summer and reportedly Kane went in on the squad’s behalf to ask Southgate why.

(Sidebar: also interesting how he didn’t do the same when Madders was dropped)

I feel like - through that duty lens you wrote so well about - Southgate would be so proud of Kane for doing that, but also so maybe personally self-defensive about his choice, and of course ultimately unmoveable on it… fun tension

Thinking about Southkane were you now? 

Ah, anyway, thank you for your lovely ask Laura!!! Yeah, honestly since that article dropped (which if you haven’t read, worth it alone for how cutting it is of Gareth. Obviously he’s not the only reason this Euros wasn’t successful but he’s certainly the root. It’s quite a sobering read) and it said that Kane rushed to Gareth, I’ve been thinking about that too. Woof. 

Some thoughts on this:

A: Harry and Jack are clearly good friends from interactions IRL and on insta. Jack even having a chat on Katie’s page! Hello!?!?

B: Jack has done what Harry hasn’t yet - play and help a team win a final. And honestly that counts a lot for England.  Not to say that in the finals Harry has played in that they would’ve won otherwise without him (probably not!) but like that experince of what it takes to push when on the right foot is so invaluable.

C: Jack is sooooooo the life and soul of the team. Such a joyful spirit, like he’s a daft bugger (drink driving again what IS it with these guys) but he gets a lot right otherwise, he’s great at footie, loved by team and clearly loves the fans. You absolutely could FEEL the Jack shaped gap in the England training camp videos - it felt odd him not being there.

D. Yep, still of the opinion that Harry is better liked than Southgate because he finds it easier to support and respect the team. Thinking of the poignant interview Dele did with Gary Neville when he opened up on addiction/childhood trauma. He mentions Harry as someone who especially checked in on him and tried to help him. Just seems like someone who although may not tactically be the best leader, is absolutely good at being the glue to keep the team together and get the best out of others. 

Harry asking him about Grelish - WOOOFBARKBARKBARKGRRRR. 

What you’ve written is perfect Laura, absolutely that double edged sword of “so proud of you Harry, this is exactly the initiative to take, you’re a leader through and through” vs “what do you mean??? I dropped Grelish because it was the right choice. I plan the team around YOU.” And also this happening on the spurs training grounds is just…! 

That HAS to have been the start of the undercurrent of tension between them over the Euros. Not huge or anything but something was there - the publication of this article the day after Harry said “we didn’t know when to press” after the Denmark game? Nah, can’t be telling me that it’s somewhat linked. 

Strikes me as Southgate trying to put Harry back in his place or keep him in line. It’s gutting to think that tbh, they’ve otherwise been such a brilliant pair (both IRL and RPF) but no denying there’s been cracks. Watching your son/mentee outgrow you in a way you can’t come back from, wishing desperately he could go back to being the pliant but loyal young man you loved and put at the centre of everything for so long.

Anyway, this is a long way of saying “I’m absolutely injecting this into my brain to whip it up into a fic/part of a fic”. Love you x 

[catwrites9]

Valentine’s Day Santa

(Jack champion x reader) can be read as fem or gn. Use of they once to refer as reader.

A/n This is a random idea I thought of and also because I headcanon Jack to like flowers so yeah also I thought of this during Valentines day so yeah it’s been that long. I am kinda in writer's block but I’m gonna the requests I’m doing soon. Also this is my way of announcing that I’m now accepting requests for Jack Champion and Ethan Landry.

Warnings cussing, kissing?, possible bad grammar, punctuation, and spelling.

Also should I start using the use of y/n in my stories you can kinda tell I hid the name in this one.

—————————————————————————

You and Jack both love to give each other random things like with him gifting you a funny hat most recently. But the only problem was your growing crush on him, you both met each other during the filming of Scream 6 having played his semi love interest that has to kill him which was fun for both of you when you had to film it. You wanted Jack to be your valentine but the whole problem is 1 you don’t even think he likes you 2 you don’t want to ruin your friendship for this if you can’t make it seem platonic and lastly 3 you don’t know if he has a valentine because you both haven’t had any scenes together because you’ve been doing the apartment scene over and over again because of difficulties.

It took a lot of courage and encouragement from both Mason and Jasmin because they were the ones who could just tell you had a crush on Jack and you could not even deny it because of all the proof they had. So you devised your plan with getting his favorite flowers and getting him a new skateboard because you remembered that he was trying to learn a trick and landed in the middle cracking the board in half. Then you grabbed his favorite candy and brought it all back to the trailers. You remember him telling you that he had filming till 2 pm today and that he was just going to be at his trailer all day. It was currently 2:15 pm so you decided to head over to his trailer giving him enough time to get to his trailer and that it takes about 5-10 minutes to get to his trailer. When you get to his trailer you stand in front of the door talking to yourself working the courage to knock on it. But of course the door opens revealing Jack in his Ethan clothing.

“Why are you talking to yourself outside my trailer and why do you have your hands behind your back?” Jack questioned pointing his finger behind you.

“Oh uh no reason” You said, straightening your posture.

He squinted his eyes then also straightened his posture. You both just stared at each other before he broke out of trance. He goes back to pointing at your back.

“Sooooooo are you going to show me what’s behind your back?” He asked, raising his right eyebrow.

“Well I uh wanted to as- give you something” that was a nice save by you.

“Well what is it”

I pull the skateboard out first, handing it to him. His eyes lighting up immediately, him jumping up and down.

“You rembered about my skateboard?” he said questioning but still jumping a little.

“Yes of course I did but that’s not all”

He widened his eyes as you pulled out his favorite candy. He takes it just staring at it with his mouth open.

“Ok this is the last thing” you said as he placed the stuff down to the left.

You pulled the flowers and card from behind you scared when he for when he reads the card.

He takes it and hugs you “Thank You so much I didn’t realize that you remembered this stuff.”

He pulled back, noticing the card, tilting his head a little pulling it from the flowers.

“From the Valintines day Santa,” he paused “Who the fuck is the Valitines day Santa” he said chucking.

“ Well I thought because Santa gives people gifts why not I be the Valentine's Day Santa because I’m giving you gifts?” The last part sounds more like a question than a statement.

He pulled out the card reading it, his eyes widened at a part. You're scared but you notice something on the back of the card, it says love the Valentine's day Santa like you put on it but then you see small lettering saying love Mason and Jasmin. Yep it’s just time to pack it all up and never talk to Jack because you sure as hell know what they said in that letter.

He knits his brows then looks at you “ You have a crush on me?” he asked, waiting for a response. But instead you just stutter.

“OH MY GOD JUST KISS ALREADY” you both hear yelling behind you pulling you out of stuttering to reveal Jasmin yelling it.

“LIKE COME ON MAN MAKE A MOVE OR SOMETHING YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU LIKE THEM SO JUST GO FOR IT!” Mason yelled from beside Jasmin.

You both blush as you look back at each other “I guess the cats out the bag” he said in a Disney channel voice shrugging his arms. You scrunch your face in cringe “That wasn’t a good joke?” He said blushing even more. You just simply shook your head no.

“Well I guess we both now know” you said looking down not able to keep eye contact with him.

He smiled and made you have eye contact.

“I guess we do both now know we crushes on eachother Valentines day Santa” you pull away from his hand cringing at the whole name you gave yourself.

“JUST KISS ALREADY MY POPCORN IS GETTING COLD” you look back seeing Devyn now next to them.

“When did you get there?” Jack said scratching the back of his head.

“Idk I just heard them yelling about kissing and I decided to watch” Devyn said going back to eating popcorn.

“Was the popcorn necessary?” you said, grabbing the bridge of your nose. All they did was nod.

“Why are y-“ you were cut off by Jack kissing you. It was short but passionate. He pulled back smiling then looking back at the three behind you making a ruckus. Devon was happy but handed Jasmin $20 because she bet that you would kiss first.

“WHY ARE YOU GUYS yelling?” Turning to the left seeing Jenna with a confused expression.

“THEY BOTH FINALLY KISSED” Mason yelled raising his two fists up and down.

“THEY BOTH FINNALY FUCKING KISSED AFTER SO-“ Jenna was cut off by another door opening revealing Melissa “Wait who’s kissing?” She questioned while leaning more to see who it was.“jack and-“ Jasmin started before mellisa saw you two “THEY FINALLY CAN STOP BEING PAINFULLY OBVIOUS ABOUT THEIR CRUSH NOW”

“ We were obvious,” Jack said, raising his arms, “and no one told us” you said right after him.

Josh came running over “Bro did they finally confess” Mason nodded his head “ thank god I could not take one more day of their painfully bad flirting on set.”

“Ouch” Jack said “ I thought my flirting was good”

“It wasn’t” you said as he looked at you with a fake hurt look and his hands on his heart.

“Anyways after we were RUDELY INTERRUPTED, yes Valentines day Santa I will be your valentine.”

And that’s how it started now two years later you both are as happy as ever living together with butters.

—————————————————————————

W/n 1 I feel like the beginning I don’t like but I love then ending but now I’m in a slight Jack era of writing so yeah.👍

W/n 2 if you like my writing I would appreciate it if people request because it takes me so long to think of prompts.

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part nineteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you make some new friends.

a/n: this might be my favourite chapter yet. I had sooooooo much fun writing it, and finally touching on/adapting scenes from the show is bringing me so much joy I can’t wait to get to the meat of it, but the parts between now and then excite me too!!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, if you’ve been reading up until now you know the drill, I’m getting lazy with my warnings LOL, no smut here, a bit of angst, F R I E N D S H I P

✨@friskito-library for new works and updates✨

Your days in the radio room have become more and more frequent, since your run-in with Gwen and her crew. It’s like you told Tess; with Hartford gone, you’d lost one of your more consistent meet-ups, and you needed to know what else was out there. You needed new connections, new friends, allies. You needed something. In case Boston went belly-up and needed to get the hell out of dodge and never look back, you needed a soft place to land.

Abe’s garnered quite the collection, over the years, and it’s like everywhere you look, there’s another wire connecting from one wall to the next, batteries that probably shouldn’t still work plugged into far too many devices. His map collection is something to write home about, and you spend some time trying to figure out the path Joel and Tommy took from Austin, but when your finger finds Cincinnati, your chest goes tight, and you return to the room Abe’s set up for just for you, branched off the main room he uses to send requested messages.

You’re still paying him with cigarettes, although some of them are the hand-rolled FEDRA shit that McCoy has a penchant for. The soldier’s other habits always seem to win, though, and you always have at least half a dozen for Abe, who’s quietly grateful, waving you off into the side room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t wanna know,” he told you when you first asked. It’s been a while now, though you stopped for a while when Nick shot Joel, when you both needed time to recover. “Just do what you need to do, and leave me out of it, okay?”

“So you don’t want any more cigarettes?”

He pointed a finger at you. “I never said that.”

And here you are, one side of the big headphones pressed to your ear. The foam has definitely seen better days, but the sound is relatively clear. You’ve kept a notebook of your contacts, the frequencies they’re usually on, the days of the week and times they’re usually available. Today, you’ve gone through every single one, and no one is out there. So you’re just twisting the dials, the strange sound of the static and frequencies almost giving you a headache, but then—

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’, cuz I’ve built my life around you.

You haven’t heard that song in a long, long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you heard it was in Joel’s truck, in that field just outside of Austin, staring up at the stars. Fleetwood Mac has always been one of your favourites, and you slide the other side of the headphones over, encasing yourself in the song, shutting your eyes as the music crackles over the radio.

But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too.

You can feel the song in your soul. It digs straight into your chest, the crooned lyrics wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.

Oh, I’m getting older, too.

You let it wash over you, sinking back into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself, tilting your head back on your shoulders and making the cable connecting the headset to the radio stretch. You’ve found a few cassette tapes over the years — namely the same Led Zeppelin album you’d once given Joel for his truck — but you make a mental note to keep your eye out for Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks.

The song finishes, and you sigh, straightening in the chair, reaching out to turn off the radio, fingers brushing against the knob.

“If there’s anybody out there, my name is Frank. I’m on frequency 1462. We have resources, and we are looking to trade.”

He repeats himself again, and then another song starts. More Fleetwood, Go Your Own Way.

Well, shit.

Your fingers fly across the knobs, turning to the right frequency, wincing at the whine as it clicks on. You reach for the microphone.

“Hello?”

There’s a fraction of a pause before, “Oh my god, hi!”

If your years of smuggling have taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anybody right off the bat. You have to be wary, you have to be careful. Hell, there are still people you’ve traded with that you don’t trust as far as you can throw. It’s just the way things are.

But fuck, if he doesn’t have the kindest-sounding voice.

“Is this Frank?”

“It is!” he replies, his excitement somehow palpable through the radio waves. “Oh my god, I was starting to think no one was gonna hear that message.”

“It’s a good song,” you laugh, pulling the mic closer to you on the table. “Haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“It’s a classic,” he agrees, and there’s a slight pause before, “Okay, I’m gonna admit, I have no idea how to do this.”

“How to do…?”

“Make deals,” he says, “meet people over the radio. Have you done this before?”

You’re not quite sure how much truth you should offer a perfect stranger, regardless of how kind he sounds. If this is a FEDRA trap, chances are good you’ll be able to blackmail your way out of it. So you settle on, “Once or twice.”

“Am I allowed to know your name? Or is that not…?”

“It’s Liv,” you offer. “Where are you, Frank?”

He pauses again. “I’m not sure if I should…” You can hear the sudden hesitancy in his tone; you know it well.

“Why don’t I tell you how I normally do this?”

“That would be perfect.”

“You tell me what you have to offer, I tell you what I have to trade. We settle on terms, pick a meeting spot and a date, and that’s that. You don’t kill me or my people, I don’t kill you or yours, and we part ways with what we’ve bargained for. Simple.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“But before we get into that, can we at least make sure we’re in the same state? I try not to cross the borders if I can manage it.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he agrees. “We’re in Massachusetts.”

“Good,” you nod, reaching for your notebook and pen, scrawling Frank’s name on your page, along with the frequency number. “So are we.”

“Coast?”

“Pretty close.”

“Good.”

“So we’re in the same state,” you say, tapping the pen against the paper. “What are you offering to trade, Frank?”

“Tell me something first,” he prompts, and your brow lifts slowly. “How long do your…relationships with traders usually last?”

Your throat bobs, Gwen’s screaming voice echoing through your head, but you shove it away. “Depends. As long as everyone holds up their end of the deal, there’s no real time limit.”

“What’s the longest you’ve traded with someone?”

“There’s a group in Providence I’ve been trading with since 2008. Never had any issues there.”

“Uh-huh, good to know. The thing is, what I’m proposing here, it might not be the same as the other deals you’ve made. We’re well-protected here. My partner, Bill, he’s…he’s a survivalist, and he’s built this place to last. We’re not going anywhere fast, we’re sustainable.”

“Meaning you wouldn’t come to the city,” you say, catching on, and now you’re the one feeling hesitant. “Depending how far out you are, it might not be worth it to us. There’d have to be something worth the risk each time, and I don’t—”

“Freshly cooked meals,” he says, and you stop dead. “Fresh vegetables. Wine, the good kind. New clothes, building materials, and weap—”

“Stop,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I only trust the radio so far. Give me coordinates, and a date, and we go from there.”

He gives you the coordinates, you scribble the numbers down, and decide on a date, three days from today. You say your goodbyes, and you tell him not to get back on the radio until you’ve met, but to keep playing the music, so you know everything is still a-go. “You like Fleetwood Mac?”

“I love Fleetwood Mac.”

“Then you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You can’t help the smile in your voice. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, Frank.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“See you soon. Oh, and Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

It catches you off guard, makes something crawl up the back of your throat.“Thanks, Frank. You too.”

You dial to a different frequency the moment you’re done, shutting down the radio entirely, and leave without a word. Abe doesn’t so much as glance at you as you head out, past the long string of people waiting patiently for him to send their messages.

+

Joel’s home before you are, which is a shock.

His back is killing him. Tommy’s skipped out on every single one of his jobs lately, and Joel feels like every time he turns a corner, there’s something else that needs repairs, another new face asking him to fix something. His hands hurt, he’s got a kink in his neck, and all he really wants to do is fall into bed and have your body curled against his.

He sighs as he gets through the door, brow pinching when he doesn’t find you perched at the table or sitting on the couch, head bent over your maps or flipping through your notebooks. It’s become habit for you lately, wanting to build up your connections more and more, now that Hartford is gone.

The guilt over the entire situation lingers in the back of Joel’s mind, a nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like his brother.

Joel shakes the thought away. He did what he had to, to protect you. To protect his wife, his family.

He did what he had to.

Locking the door behind him, he tosses his makeshift tool bag — a ratty backpack he found at the donation hall before it shut down — into the corner, and flops onto the couch. He slings his hand over his eyes. He’ll just close them for a minute, just until you’re home, until you’re…

A nightmare latches onto him with a vice-like grip, throws him fully out of sleep with a gasp, his chest heaving.

“Joel?” your voice calls, a soft echo across the apartment, and he turns to see you perched in one of the kitchen chairs, pencil between your teeth, your hair falling in your eyes. “Baby, you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, swinging his legs off the couch, getting to his feet with a groan. He rubs at his lower back as he pads over to the kitchen, coming to stand behind you. He leans forward and plants both hands on the table either side of you, leaning down until he can fit his chin into the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses at your pulse.

“Fine, now that you’re home,” he mumbles, and you lean back into him slightly, turning your head so you can kiss at his, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. “You were out late.”

“I’ve been home for hours,” you reply, huffing a laugh, setting the pencil on the table. Your maps are all spread out, the big one of Massachusetts on the top. “You’ve been asleep the entire time. Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Joel drags one hand off the table, moves his arm so it’s slung around your chest, curling his fingers around your rib cage. “How nice of you.”

“Best wife ever,” you say, and Joel laughs into your skin. “Oh, and there’s dinner for you. Abe’s wife sent me home with food as thank you for fixing their door the other day.”

“What is it?”

“Something with Spam in it,” you tell him, and Joel wrinkles his nose. “It tastes better than it looks.”

“Noted,” he grumbles, pressing one last kiss to your throat before he straightens, spine creaking as he goes. “Fuck, I’m getting old.”

“I think the grey in your beard suits you,” you answer, turning back to your maps, “just for the record.”

The corner of his mouth quirks as he heads for the fridge, fishing out the plate of food and leaning against the counter. “How was your day, baby?”

Your pencil drops again, and you push your chair back, the legs squeaking against the floor. You turn yourself towards him fully, slowly getting to your feet, taking a step towards him. “I made a friend.”

Joel’s brow quirks. You know a lot of people in the QZ, that much he knows for certain, but he’s really not sure how many of them you would refer to as friends. “Oh?”

“On the radio. His name is Frank.” You turn back to the maps, eyes raking over the paper, your finger finding a spot marked with pencil. “He lives in Lincoln, and we’re gonna go see him in three days.”

He nearly drops the plate. “What?”

“I mapped out the path. It’s a bit of a hike, almost five hours outside of Boston, but—”

“Ten miles?” Joel repeats, and you just nod. “Liv, we’ve barely been outside the city limits, and you wanna hike ten miles to some random stranger?”

“Frank,” you say, your tone almost petulant, and Joel puts the plate down. “They have food, Joel. Real food, not bullshit QZ rations. Wine, weapons, building materials. New clothes. This could be good for us, Joel. Really good.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You want me to hike five hours for wine?”

“I want you to hike ten miles for a chance at something good, Joel. Something new.” Your gaze drops and you knot your hands together. “Something to make up for what we did, maybe. Somehow. I don’t know. I just…I feel good about this, baby. And it’s just a meeting, to start. I didn’t promise him anything, just that we’d meet, and we’d talk. Then we go from there.”

Something in your voice tugs at him, and for a moment, Joel’s not quite sure what it is, but then it hits him.

It’s hope. It’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded in a long time, and when you take another step toward him, he opens his arms to you.

“The route will take us right past Cumberland Farms,” you continue, and Joel cups your hip in his palm, letting out a quiet oomph as you lean against him, reaching up to twine your arms around your neck. “We can stop there first, stash some stuff just in case.”

“A safety net,” Joel says, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“You were asleep for a long time,” you reply, and Joel just scoffs, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Wait,” you pull back, moving one hand to the middle of his chest, pushing lightly. “Is that a yes?”

“Well, I’m not about to let you go by yourself now, am I?”

+

It’s a long fucking hike.

Thankfully, it’s relatively easy. The path you’d chosen isn’t overly adventurous, no daunting hills or thick forests. It’s mostly open air, rolling fields, forests either side of the roads. The weather is beautiful, which is a plus, though you can feel the sweat pouring down your back as you walk, on the right side of Joel, as always.

You recount the entire conversation you had with Frank to Joel as you walk. Tess had offered to come with you, too, but you decided the two of you would go for the first meeting, and if things worked out, then you’d all go together the next time. You could tell part of her was relieved, and she admitted to you later she had plans to see Robin the same day you were going.

“You got instinct, baby,” Joel tells you after you’ve finished the story, your fingers twined together as he pulls you out of the path of a fallen telephone wire in the middle of the road. “Don’t forget that. I’ve seen it; you know what you’re doing. And if you feel good about this, then I’m game. We see what happens. And if anyone tries to lay a hand on you—”

“Hit ‘em real fuckin’ hard with my bat.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your chest warm, and when he’s close enough, you slide yourself against him, slipping your arm around his waist, tugging his around your shoulders. “Your wife is a badass, Joel Miller,” you say, and he barks a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “In case you weren’t aware.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, his brows lifting. “Believe me, I’m aware. It’s fuckin’ hot. Only reason I married you.”

Now you’re the one that laughs, sliding your hand into his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his jeans. “Jackass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, and squeezes your shoulder, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “Liv, baby?”

“Mmm?”

“When we get back to Boston, I’m gonna try and talk to Tommy. Make peace or somethin’.”

You nearly stop dead in your tracks. In fact, if Joel wasn’t still walking with his arm around you, you might have fallen over. But you don’t let your shock be known, schooling your face as neutral as possible while letting one brow raise. “Oh, really?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and I just…He’s my baby brother. He’s a fuckin’ idiot, and he’s gonna get himself killed, but he’s family. And we keep going for family, so I gotta fix it. Somehow.”

Slowly, you nod. “You think he’s gonna tell the Fireflies about me?”

“I’ll break his fuckin’ nose if he does.”

“Joel.” You smack at his chest. “That’s not how you fix it.”

“I know, I know. It’s…” Joel shakes his head. “I want to believe he won’t. I really do.”

“So talk to him,” you say with a nod. “See what happens, go from there, and please, just don’t fucking hit each other.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You continue on, the sun beating down on your every step. There’s not much more conversation, but the silence is easy, a comfort. Joel doesn’t let you wander far, you eventually step out of his grip but your hands are still linked together.

Your stop at Cumberland Farms is brief. In the early days, you brought a stash box to the gas station, tucked it below one of the floor panels. You and Joel mostly empty your packs into the box, some ammunition, a spare knife, food that’ll last a good while. A backup. You pull one of the long-empty freezers over the panel, try to make the trash and debris cover it up, just to be safe. Joel gives you a nod of approval, and then you keep going.

Eventually, the tree-lined road gives way to open space. More hills, dips in the earth. Far in the distance, you see a plane broken in half on the hilltop — an emergency landing gone wrong — and your stomach rolls at the thought of what’s still up there.

But then you turn another corner, and it’s even worse.

Beside you, you hear Joel’s quiet shock. “What in the…?”

You grip his hand tighter, pushing yourself against him, tearing your eyes from the sight before you. “I thought he was lying.”

Joel’s head whips in your direction. “What? Who? You knew about this?”

You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat. “Early days, after the outbreak. Like, the week after, FEDRA swept through the small towns and evacuated them. Told people they were going to a QZ. And they were, if there was room. If not…” You tilt your head towards the pit.

“How did you know? You’ve been out this way?”

“Never this far,” you answer, shaking your head. “Nick, he…he told me about it.” Joel stiffens, and you squeeze his arm. “He wasn’t part of it, but he knew soldiers that were. It wasn’t just here; it was all over. Across the country. Who fucking knows how many people FEDRA killed.”

“I just don’t get why.”

“Better dead than infected.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, and pulls you closer, turning you away from it. Not that it makes a difference; you know you’ll be seeing the half-buried skeletons, the scraps of clothing and the scattered belongings, in the back of your mind for a long time. “Maybe there’s a path through the forest.”

You shake your head. “Just keep going.”

“Liv—”

“Keep going, Joel.”

So you do. You try to bury the sight, try to push it away, try to focus on where you’re going instead.

It’s like you turn the corner, and all of a sudden, there’s a town right in front of you. A small town, to be sure, a handful of buildings, some that have seen better days, and when your eyes land on the nine-foot metal fence around the perimeter, Frank’s wavy voice on the radio echoes through your head.

We’re well-protected here.

He sure as hell wasn’t lying.

As you approach the fence, Joel situates himself in front of you, his expression wary, an arm held out, protector mode on. You get closer, and suddenly it strikes you that you have no idea what Frank looks like. You have no idea who you’re looking for.

But you’re pretty sure it’s not the large bearded man with the giant fucking gun pointed at your head.

Instantly, you’ve both got your hands in the air, Joel still a half step in front of you. “What do you want?” the man barks, lifting the gun a little higher, switching between aiming the barrel at your head and at Joel’s.

“We’re here to see Frank,” you say instantly, nearly tripping over the words. “I’m Liv, this is Joel. I spoke to Frank on the radio.”

“Oh my fucking…Bill, put the gun down!” another, strangely familiar voice shouts, and over the larger man’s — Bill’s — shoulder, you see a slightly smaller man, a touch taller than Bill, but thinner, his hair shorter, his beard a little more well-kept. He’s got a dishrag over his shoulder, and as he jogs up to Bill, pushing his partner aside and reaching for the gate before you, he grins at you.

The gun is lowered, but as Frank pulls the gate open, Bill pulls out the same bio-scanner machine you’ve seen FEDRA soldiers toting around back in the QZ, and your heart sinks into your toes.

“Would you put that thing away?” Frank chides, waving at Bill, beaming at you now as you take a hesitant step towards the now-open gate. “You must be Liv.”

His smile is infectious, and as Bill stows the scanner, your excitement returns. “Hi, Frank.”

“Come in, come in!” he says, and reaches for your hand, tugging you through. “You guys are just in time; lunch is almost ready. Right, Bill?”

“…yes.”

Joel’s a half step behind you now, his hand finding the small of your back as you walk through the gate completely. Bill sniffs as you step past, and closes the gate behind you both, hitting a keypad that emits a loud beep, the heavy sound of magnets slamming together.

You’re at a loss for words as you follow Frank down the street. It looks so…normal. So alive, so lived in. You’ve become so accustomed to abandoned buildings and broken windows; to be around buildings that look well taken care of, a house that looks like it belongs to someone, you’re at a loss.

“This place is beautiful,” you manage to say, picking up your pace to keep up with Frank. “It looks so…”

“Normal?” Frank asks, and you just nod, giving a little laugh. “Cookie-cutter? I know. It’s definitely grown on me.”

“You weren’t always here?”

“Oh, no, not always. It’s been about…three years now? Something like that?” He waves a hand. “We can talk more about that stuff over lunch. You two must be starving.”

You turn another corner, and the most beautiful house stands before you. Two stories, perfect white picket fence out front, planters filled with flowers lining the walkways, the hedges and lawn neatly trimmed. A US flag sticks out from the front of the house, the fabric billowing in the warm breeze, and you nearly topple over when you see the patio furniture set out, four chairs around a table, each place already set, wine in the middle, glasses at each spot.

You and Joel are frozen in place, but Frank continues on, stepping through the small gate in the fence and walking towards the table. Bill stalks past you, heading into the house, and Frank waves you on. “Come! Sit!”

Joel’s hand pushes against your back, his voice low in your ear. “You still feelin’ good about this?”

“Very,” you reply, and let him propel you forward slightly, unable to wipe the grin on your face as you walk towards the table.

You take a seat, Joel sliding into the chair next to you, and Frank produces a bottle of wine, filling the glass in front of you. Joel gives a little nod as Frank fills his glass, and you’ll be the first to admit you reach for the glass quickly, taking a long sip that tastes like heaven. You’ve never been a huge wine drinker; you indulged every once in a while before — the occasional glass if you were out for dinner, and your mom had a penchant for rosé — but this is good fucking wine.

“How long did it take you guys?” Frank asks as he fills his own glass, then the empty seat for Bill. “Easy travels I hope?”

“‘Bout five hours,” Joel answers as you take another sip. “No Infected, and the weather’s good.”

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Frank says, still beaming at you, and you’re smiling into your wine. “We’ll eat first, and then I’ll show you two around. Bill’s a bit…hesitant about the whole thing, but he’ll come around. He’s a big softie.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. “Sort of.”

As if on cue, the front door opens, and Bill appears, calling Frank’s name. The taller man rises, jogging towards the door and when he turns back, he has two plates of food in his hands. It’s fine china, piled with steaming veggies and pieces of meat, actual fucking gravy and Bill has a bowl of dinner rolls tucked in the crook of his arm.

Frank sets a plate down in front of you, and for a second, you honestly feel like you could cry. “Oh my god, thank you.” Bill hands the other two plates to Frank, then disappears towards the house. Frank goes to follow, but then waves his hand at his partner’s back.

“He can handle the salad himself.” He settles into the seat across from you, gestures to the plate you’re still staring at. “Go ahead, eat! There’s more too, if you’re still hungry after.”

Joel wastes no time, but you wait for Bill to return, saying your thanks when he hands you a bowl of salad that looks fresh from the garden. Your mouth is watering. He just gives you a curt nod, sinks into the chair opposite of Joel, and pulls a handgun from the holster on his leg, setting it beside his plate. A warning, and you see Joel’s eyes dart to it before he glances at you. You sip your wine again, your hand finding Joel’s thigh beneath the table.

“Well, this is just incredible,” you say, breaking the awkward silence that’s settled. “Honestly, it’s just…it’s amazing, truly.”

“Right?” Frank agrees, giving you an almost conspiratorial grin. He picks up the wine bottle from the table, gestures to your glass. “Refill?”

“Please,” you say, holding your glass out.

Frank side-eyes Bill as he picks up the gun, pulling back the hammer with a quiet click. “Could you not, please? They’re our guests.”

Joel stares at the gun for a long moment before, “I’m the same way.”

“Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?” Frank asks, and you have to stifle your chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spit wine.

Bill rolls his eyes. “I’m not a schizophrenic.”

Bill and Joel share another glance, and you take another sip of wine before clearing your throat. “Well, I just wanna say, uh, gun aside — which I get, for the record.” You squeeze Joel’s leg beneath the table. “You’re protecting your family. But this is just so nice, and so appreciated, to have a meal like this, in such a beautiful place. It’s been so long since things felt normal, and this…even if we don’t end up working together, I just…thank you. Both of you.”

Frank meets your eyes, holding his glass towards you. “We are working together.”

“We haven’t even—” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Frank sets down his glass for a moment and gets to his feet, reaching for his glass and the bottle again.

“You know what?” he says, giving you a grin. “Let’s go inside. Liv, I wanna show you something.”

You feel Joel’s eyes slide back to you, his brow furrowed deeply, and you squeeze his leg one more time before you’re getting up. “Actually, I’m dying to see the inside.”

“Let’s go,” Frank continues, ignoring Bill’s protests. “Bring your wine.” As you follow him towards the house, he pauses to let you catch up, turning to you. “Like I said, he’ll come around, he just…takes a while.”

You can’t help your chuckle. “Reminds me of Joel.”

As you step inside the house, you’re at a loss for words. Antique furniture, beautiful paintings, and it feels like a home. A stark contrast to your apartment back in Boston, which has felt more and more like just a place to keep your stuff. Especially since Joel showed up; wherever he was, that was home.

You dance your fingers across the piano keys as Frank turns towards the dining room, a large mahogany table taking up most of the space, matching chairs, an old grandfather clock, a covered desk. You don’t have enough of a musical ear to know if the piano is still in tune or not, but then Frank calls your name, and you wander over, sipping your wine as you go, careful not to let it spill.

“This place is amazing,” you comment, and Frank grins, turning to rifle through one of the desk drawers. “Did you and Bill find this place? I’m shocked it’s in such good condition.”

“No, Bill has always lived here,” Frank answers, still searching for something. “I was heading for Boston, after the Baltimore QZ fell. There were ten of us originally, but by the time I ended up here, I was the only one left.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, almost a reflex, and Frank waves you off. “So, you and Bill…you found each other, in the middle of all this?”

He finds what he’s looking for, something concealed in his hand as he pushes the drawer shut, and the grin on his face as he straightens to look at you makes your chest warm. He’s just so charming, kindness radiating off of him in waves. You’re not used to it.

“We did,” he says with a nod, an almost dreamy look in his eye. “It’s hopelessly romantic, isn’t it? Must be the artist in me. And you should have seen this place when I first got here. At least an inch of dust everywhere you looked.”

“Bill’s not much a cleaner?”

“He’s practical, but he forgets to pay attention to things sometimes. But he’s learning.” He smiles. “We all are.”

You scoff a little laugh. “That’s a good way to put it.”

Frank holds the thing he’d fished out of the desk to you. “For you.”

Your jaw drops. Fleetwood Mac. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he laughs, putting the cassette tape in your hands. “It’s yours. Landslide is on side B.”

“Frank, I can’t—”

“You can,” he presses, chuckling at your protest. “A token of appreciation for travelling this far to meet with us.” Before you can refuse, Frank turns, refilling his glass where he’d set it on the table and sinking into one of the chairs. “Now, tell me how this works.”

+

The majority of the afternoon is spent following Frank around, him showing you the numbered but incredible sights Lincoln has to offer. It feels like stepping into a history book in the best kind of way, and that feeling of normalcy, the white picket fence only adds to it.

“So, how long have you and Joel been you and Joel?” Frank asks. You’re in the clothing boutique, poking through the racks of clothes. Frank told you to pick out an outfit, and you’re taking your choices very seriously, your mind torn between desperately wanting something cute while knowing you need something practical.

“Hah. It’s, uh, complicated?” you reply, your voice hitching on the word. You rub the sleeve of a green sweater between your fingers, savouring the softness. “We knew each other before the outbreak.”

Over the top of the rack, you can see Frank make a face. “That doesn’t sound that complicated.”

Before you know it, you’ve told him everything. It throws you, to trust someone this quickly. But, he invited you into his home, trusted you not to turn on him and his partner, his family. And that warmth he seems to radiate, it just adds to it all, making you feel like you’ve known him much longer than you have.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” he says after you’ve given him the whole story. “So you were together in 2001, then you moved to Boston, then shit hits the fan, you’re still in Boston, and Joel shows up five years later with his brother and another woman?”

You nod, flicking through a rack to find a pair of black jeans in your size. “Yes, Tommy and Tess.”

“And Joel and Tess were a thing when they first got to Boston?”

“Yes.”

“Then Tess broke it off with Joel, and you two got back together? And she’s one of your closest friends?”

You nod again. “Yes.”

“And Tommy is…?”

You sigh. “Tommy is even more complicated. I think I’d need another bottle of wine before I even start talking about Tommy.”

Frank grins. “All the more incentive for you to come back.”

“As if I’m not already convinced.”

Outside the boutique, you can hear Joel calling your name. You glance at your watch. “Shit. We probably need to start heading back.”

“Take those,” Frank says, gesturing to the jeans in your hands. He has the green sweater you’ve decided on in his hands. “I told Bill to pack up some food for you too.”

You head out of the boutique and towards the gate, and as you approach, Joel and Bill walk out of the house, Joel’s bag slung over his shoulder, looking a bit fuller than it had when you arrived. He hands you your own bag, and Frank hands you the sweater as you crouch down to stuff the clothes in your bag. “You’re sure about this?” you ask, pulling the Fleetwood Mac cassette out of your back pocket.

“Of course,” Frank answers. “Don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll come back in a few weeks, and we’ll trade. 

“We will. And I’ll bring Tess, like I said.”

“Oh,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at Joel and Bill, who have stopped a good ten feet behind you, “and I had this idea, that we should use codes for the radio. Y’know, just in case someone’s listening. I know you were worried, the first time we talked.”

You nod. “That’s a great idea. What kind of code are you thinking?”

“Music,” he grins. “Sixties, seventies, eighties. We’ve got this book on Billboard hits we could give you. Sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies if we’ve got something new, eighties if there’s trouble.”

“Eighties for trouble,” you repeat, nodding again. “I like that.”

“Good,” Frank says, and you get to your feet. “I gotta say, Liv, I felt good about this before, but now? It’s nice, so nice, to have new friends.” He reaches out, puts his hand on your arm. “And yes, before you try and deny it. That’s what we are.”

You can’t help your grin. “Friends.”

He grins back. “Friends.”

Joel and Bill have been talking the entire time you have, and when you glance back, you see Joel heading toward you, squinting in the sunlight. “Ready?” he asks as he comes to stand beside you, his hand finding the small of your back again, and you nod. He turns to Frank. “Thank you, for the lunch, and for…” He trails off, gesturing to you. “We needed this.”

Joel and Frank shake hands, and after, Frank pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders. “See you soon.”

+

You get back to the QZ late. You’re both exhausted, worn out by the hiking and the sun and the abundance of food. You’re both drooling over the leftovers Bill and Frank sent you home with, and as soon as you’re through the door to the apartment, Joel pulls out one of the containers, and you eat it with your fingers standing over the sink, both of you laughing at the absurdity of your day.

The next morning, Joel goes looking for Tommy.

Unsurprisingly, his brother has skipped out on his job for the umpteenth time, so as soon as morning curfew has passed, Joel heads into the city, and starts combing the buildings he knows are Firefly hideouts. The third building he’s poking around, and he’s stopped by a woman. She seemingly materializes out of the alleyway, arms crossed over her chest, dark hair tied back. She calls him by name, and Joel freezes.

“You won’t find him,” she says, her voice deeper than Joel is anticipating. “Tommy’s not here.”

Joel turns slowly, regards the woman as she steps out of the alley. She’s dressed the same as everybody else is, clothes that have seen better days, boots wrapped with duct tape. “You must be Marlene.”

“Guilty,” she answers.

“Where’s my brother?”

She looks down at the pavement, digs her toe into the asphalt. “Tommy left this morning.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “Left? What d’you mean, left?”

“I stationed him at our base in Minneapolis,” she says, and Joel’s heart stutters. “He left with a few other men this morning.”

His hands clench into fists. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I know how you feel about the Fireflies, Joel,” Marlene continues, and the edges of Joel’s vision tinge red. “Tommy told me. And I understand why you would have your…reservations. But your brother just wants to do some good.”

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” Joel spits. “Is that what you told him? That blowing shit up and killing soldiers was good?”

“We’re doing more than that,” Marlene starts, “and Tommy understands that. He knows what he signed up for.”

“Does he?” he replies, and his voice is climbing. There’s a handful of people out on the sidewalks, and some throw glances in his direction. “You turned him against his family. Against his own brother.”

“I didn’t turn him against you, Joel. Tommy made a choice.”

Joel shakes his head. He’s shaking with anger, confusion, fear — every emotion crawled up the back of his throat and making a home there. “That’s a load of shit.”

Marlene digs in her pocket and extends a folded piece of paper toward him. “This is the radio frequency for the base in Minneapolis. Give it a day or two, then try and get through. I know your wife works the radios, she shouldn’t have any problem reaching him.”

He just stares at her, eyes darting between her face and the piece of paper. But finally, the desperation that’s been added to the mix wins out, and he snatches the paper. “If he dies, it’s on you. I’m not responsible for what happens after that.”

“If he dies, I’ll await your wrath, Joel.”

Before he can do anything more, she turns on her heel and disappears, leaving Joel in the alleyway, alone.

PREV | NEXT

🍓in case tumblr eats the ending🍓

[lipstickghoulie]

Hehe oh I'm gonna have to ask about 'Tentacles???' 👀

Sooooooo, this one is exactly what it sounds like, haha. I wrote a good portion of a fic about Astarion getting tangled up in a wayward Evard’s black tentacles spell and maybe there is some ass eating and tentacles in inappropriate places.

The only reason that I didn’t finish this one is that I actually started this WIP in a run where I didn’t use the spell very much and for some reason thought it covered a MUCH smaller surface area. Then I used the spell purely for research purposes and to screenshot to better describe it for the fic and then realized it took up TWENTY FUCKING FEET.

Basically a whole room.

So I got kind of spooked because I had only started writing about like, twenty tentacles and not two hundred?! I was FREAKING OUT in poor @starryjuicebox’s DMs because I apparently can’t imagine what measurements look like mentally and I was not prepared for how big this spell was. I have since worked out a few ways that I could justify it covering a smaller spot but I just haven’t returned to this since then for some reason. 😅 Here’s a snippet from it though:

They’re conjured from nothing and they’d return to nothing when the spell was over but the tendril working its way up Astarion’s leg felt decidedly solid. It had a heavy, wet slide to it like a corpse being dragged along the docks to be disposed of after another deal gone bad in the Gate; another sinking shape in the murky depths and right now, a slinking shape that seemed much too comfortable inching up the gap in his trousers.

Anyways, thank you for asking and for being interested, you sweet soul! 💛

[drabbles-mc]

Something Good

Creeper Vargas x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: smell

Word Count: 200

A/N: i love all the MC boys of course of course but there is something just sooooooo!!!! about Creeper 🥰

The smell washed over you as soon as you stepped through the door getting home, and instantly you felt your entire body relax. There was always something so comforting about coming home to find that Neron had already started making dinner.

Toeing off your boots at the door, you dropped your bag beside them shortly thereafter before making a direct line to the kitchen. He was leaning over the pot on the stove, watching it carefully. With a smile on your face, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle.

“What’d you make me?” you asked with a soft laugh.

He chuckled as you hooked your chin over his shoulder. He placed one hand over yours that were interlocked over his stomach. “Somethin’ good.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt. “That’s what you always say.”

“Yeah,” he reached with his other hand to grab the spoon, stirring the pot, “and have I ever lied?”

You paused longer than necessary before answering just to get a rise out of him, and it worked as he turned to look at you. It was only then that you laughed, giving in. “No, you haven’t.”

[renlysbussy]

Can u do a daemond drabble mhm mhm

You and this tweet inspired me soooOOOO--a Daemond Drabble below the cut. Rated: Explicit. Set in a modern, mafia-esque AU.

Daemon liked picking out what Aemond would wear for the night when his nephew would let him. He relished in picking out Rhaenyra’s outfits too. If his partner were to accompany him out, on his arm, they should dress the part. Daemon didn’t say this, of course, but he believed it. 

That was how Aemond had ended up wearing a long, black jacket with no shirt underneath. The jacket was tied at his waist to accentuate his shape. The clean, velvet fabric looked and felt exceptionally soft. Daemon especially liked the feeling of the velvet on his hands as he rubbed light circles on his nephew’s back, his fingertips leaving swirl patterns as to where they’d been.

Aemond wore tight-fitting, black pants under the jacket and matching boots that barely reached above his ankles. With the sparkling sapphire choker, another gift his uncle had bought him, sparkling under the dim light, he was the picture of elegance. Daemon had made sure of that. Aemond didn’t know how much Daemon had spent on the entire ensemble and frankly, he didn’t want to. He knew it was excessive, and that was Daemon’s business, not his. 

Seated comfortably in his uncle’s lap, Aemond placed his arms loosely around his neck so that he could stare down at Daemon. His hair was braided back loosely so that some loose strands of white-blonde hair hung in a way that gave them a little privacy. “Are you pleased, uncle?” Aemond asked softly. The club was loud, but he was so close to Daemon that they could hear one another.

“Pleased?” Daemon let his hands roam to Aemond’s waist where the belt cinched the jacket closed. He liked how Aemond fit between his hands. Daemon glanced down and thought about the last time his hands were around Aemond’s waist like this. Aemond had been in his lap, riding his uncle’s cock as if his life depended on it. The fingerprint-shaped bruises Daemon had left on his skin had lasted for nearly two weeks after that. He was long due for a new set. 

“Yes, Kepa,” Aemond smiled as he watched Daemon closely. His sapphire eye twinkled just as much as the choker at his throat. “My clothes, this club, all of it—are you pleased?” It was important to Aemond that his uncle be pleased. He liked satisfying all of Daemon’s needs—he liked being able to. 

“Oh,” Daemon’s eyes widened a little as he thought about it. He nodded and motioned for a waiter to attend them. Aemond couldn’t hear what Daemon asked the waiter for, but he was gone as fast as he had arrived. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Aemond reminded him. His expression didn’t betray how worried Daemon’s silence actually made him. Instead, Aemond expelled some of his nervous energy by reaching up to run his fingertips over the burn scars that decorated his uncle’s neck—a permanent reminder of the type of work they did.

Daemon turned his attention back to his pretty nephew, switching to speak in High Valyrian—the ancient tongue of their equally old family. Knowing a language that was mostly dead had proven useful more times than Daemon could count. “I’m quite satisfied, nephew. But you…” Daemon’s words trailed off as the waiter returned with a small, black glass plate. On the plate was an arrangement of fruit that looked so perfect that it could have been pulled from a 17th century still-life painting. There were apple slices, peeled pieces of orange, raspberries, and a small bunch of grapes that appeared maroon in the low light. Next to the fruit was a dish of honey in a cut-crystal bowl that could have been mistaken for a salt cellar. Atop the honey was what had to be a pinch of cinnamon. The plate was simple but mouth-watering. When the waiter walked away yet again, Daemon finished his thought, “…you need to eat. You haven’t had a bite all day.”

“Me?” Aemond wanted to roll his eye. His uncle often worried about his most basic needs. It was sweet in ways, patronizing in others, but he knew the pleasure it brought him.

“Yes, you,” Daemon insisted, a smile spreading across his face. The pair were still speaking in High Valyrian to one another, even as Daemon plucked a grape from the bunch to hold it to Aemond’s lips. “Eat.”

“Yes, uncle,” Aemond answered with a sweetness that matched the substance in the crystal dish. He opened his mouth enough to let Daemon pass the grape between his lips. Aemond smiled as he bit down and chewed, his eye watching Daemon’s. Once the grape was swallowed, Aemond was free to comment, “It’s a bit tart. I think I’d fancy one of the raspberries with honey next.” 

He knew how this worked by now. Daemon liked feeling needed and while Aemond hated asking, he would ask anyways—demand even, to make his uncle feel wanted. And Daemon, he was more than eager to please. He dipped a raspberry in the honey as Aemond had suggested, carefully lifting it to hold it to Aemond’s lips next. This time, Aemond gave Daemon more.  

Aemond opened his mouth wider than before, letting his uncle pop the raspberry past his lips. His tongue slid against Daemon’s fingers to make sure he’d cleaned all the honey from them. The taste was excellent. The sweet, rich honey balanced out the bitterness of the raspberry and the cinnamon lingered after the food itself was gone. It was more than pleasant—it was divine. All of it. The club, the music, the lights, the clothes, the food, his Kepa.

Aemond couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hand up to cup Daemon’s face as he leaned in to kiss him softly, but with passion behind it all the same. Daemon couldn’t resist the kiss and returned it with fervor, but his nephew wasn’t done yet. He forced himself to pull his head away enough to break the kiss. “No distractions. Not yet. Eat.” Daemon smiled slyly and dipped an apple slice in the honey this time. 

“Uncle,” Aemond protested, but Daemon only pressed the apple slice to his lips tenderly. He had no choice but to acquiesce, accepting the honey coated fruit into his mouth. The apple was somehow even better; it lacked the bitterness of the raspberry, and the cinnamon gave the illusion of biting into a bit of apple pie. As Aemond watched Daemon wipe his fingertips on a small napkin on the plate, he felt inspired. 

Leaning in close to Daemon again, Aemond pressed his lip to his uncle’s ear, speaking low, “I think I’d like to try just the honey.” He hoped that his uncle would understand what he was asking. Luckily, Daemon did. Of course he did. They were too alike. 

Daemon’s mouth formed a small smirk as he dipped his pointer and middle finger into the cinnamon-honey mixture, bringing it to Aemond’s lips. It was exactly what he’d hoped for. Aemond opened his mouth again so that Daemon could press his fingers inside. While the honey was just as delicious, the real treat was getting to slide his tongue around Daemon’s fingers and between them obscenely. He closed his eyes, moaning softly around them as he imagined how much sweeter they would be inside of him.

When Daemon pulled his fingers from Aemond’s mouth, Aemond only felt disappointment—empty, even. Daemon had seen the expression on Aemond’s face before. “So spoiled, nephew,” Daemon chided, running a hand up Aemond’s thigh, under the jacket. “Finish your plate and we’ll leave this place. Deal?”

Aemond wondered how quickly he could finish the remainder of the dish. Not fast enough. 

[curufiin]

Just found Calantar and I wanna know more about the baby🥺

OMGGG i’m so happy you like him 😭😭 okay let me try to explain his deal in an actually coherent way bc apparently i am bad at doing this

SO. He’s part of my curufin au, aptly named Ringmaker Curvo (fic coming never), where Annatar instead seduces Curufin while he’s still in Nargothrond to make the rings of power.

Basically after Luthien kicks his ass, and before Curufin gets thrown out of Nargothrond, Sauron decides he can’t go back to Morgoth like this and embarrass himself because Morgoth would kill him. So he ends up flying in the direction of Nargothrond, crashlands somewhere nearby from exhaustion, and is found by hunters from Nargothrond who take him there.

Once inside he snoops around, and finds out about the general chaos inside going on including the two C’s. Annatar proceeds to pretend ro have some super important request, is granted a meeting with Curufin, and they bond over their love of smithing. They end up going out pretending to go rescue Finrod, Curufin discovers Annatar is Sauron (he doesn’t really care and is immediately planning to use him and betray him later), they run into Carcharoth and murder him, and get the Silmaril somehow. Shoutout to @maironsbigboobs for helping me with this mwa

So anyway more unspecified things happen and honestly idk the plot of the AU. Onto Calantar. Celebrimbor disowns Curufin early and leaves Nargothrond by himself. Curufin is absolutely devastated, and by this point his sanity is at some questionable level, and he’s also kinda in love with Sauron (sauron x curufin ftw yay). So he approaches him, and is like “hey. My son fucking abandoned me. Give me another son.”

Obviously they can’t just procreate since they’re both guys and Sauron doesn’t feel like getting pregnant, so they decide to actually create a baby. Like, literally craft a baby. Curufin gives up a part of his soul for this (and almost dies), but they still need the flesh to bind the soul with. Sauron uses his flesh, probably cuts off a forearm, and after a long ritual involving necromancy and grave robbing and whatever, Calantar is made! He’s born as a toddler so no need to deal with an actual infant.

Originally, he was just named Laurinquar (golden fist) Curufinwe/ion because Curufin is awful with names. However, since he was made of Maia flesh, Calantar is *very* attuned with the Song, and his light powers eventually show up, hence the name Calantar (lord of light/bringer of light). He also inherited Sauron’s shapeshifting, but he can only shapeshift into elven forms, not animals.

Eventually Curufin is kicked out of Nargothrond anyway, plot happens, and he dies. I haven’t decided if Curufin should be taken to Angband as a “prisoner” or if he should die in the second kinslaying, but either way, he’s dead, Sauron’s got a ring, and Calantar is in Angband now.

The deal with Calantar is that he’s basically a mash up of every bad thing about Sauron, and every bad thing about Curufin. He’s arrogant, snide, extremely haughty, he’s a perfectionist, he thinks he’s better than everyone, and he is extremely loyal to his parents. He truly believes that Sauron is bettering the world, and he gets very aggressive when he thinks someone is insulting his family. He was also raised partly by Morgoth (who definitely also wanted to use this demon elf child for his own purposes) sooooooo

All of that means he functions as a very efficient attack dog for Sauron once he does grow up and get his powers under control. He isn’t really involved in the War of Wrath because he was still pretty young, but in the second age he does do a lot of dirty work for Sauron, including commanding his own battalion to attack Eregion. Ofc he has either no idea or only a vague idea Celebrimbor is his brother, and Celebrimbor has no idea who he is. When Sauron gets “imprisoned” by Ar Pharazon, Calantar is in Middle Earth managing Sauron’s henchmen and property (yay property manager!) and generally laying low. He fights in the Final Alliance, almost dies, and goes into hiding for many years.

Since he’s made of Sauron’s flesh, this means he’s also sort of bound to the ring in the sense he can feel its presence and can feel it calling to him. Eventually, he’s sent out to find the ring and return it, and this is where his elven disguises become useful. While Calantar is a huge asshole, he is perfectly capable of playing the role of a wise elven guardian and get people to trust him, only to turn on them at the last second. Watch out frodo

[devilsrecreation]

cough. pls tell me more abt the nne x tano x madao /nf

Lmao it’s basically me being a multishipper and shipping Nne x Madoa and Nne x Tano

I think I first saw the pairing in a comic on Deviantart where Nne is shown to have this crush on Madoa and I went “yeah that could work”. A lot of people ship Nne and Tano cuz they’re always together and it grew on me

So why not make Nne poly huh?

I like to think it starts off as kind of a love triangle where Nne gains a huge crush on Madoa (maybe she does something nice for him or he just sees how gentle she is, haven’t decided) and tries to win her heart. However, Tano starts developing feelings for his bff and WANTS to confess, but he always suppresses it either bc Nne’s too busy dreaming about Madoa or their moment gets interrupted. At one point, Tano does something that makes Nne see him in a different light (aka Tano looking FINE~) and starts to question whether it’s just a one time thing or if Nne’s catching feelings while also crushing on Madoa…who’s just starting to warm up to and maybe even admit her feelings towards him

So eventually the three spend the day together, talk everything out and agree to be in a polyamorous relationship. Tano loves Nne, Nne loves Tano, Nne also loves Madoa, Madoa also loves Nne. Madoa’s cool with Tano. Nne has two front paws, it works out. And the best part? Madoa probably catches onto Tano’s crush on Nne and sees how much he cares for him and she respects that to no end. Tano sees how sweet Madoa is and how much she ALSO cares about him.

Because fighting over someone like they’re an object is SOOOOOOO old and overrated yk?