#hmmm or maybe this is like him having the leftovers

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

[jinuaei]

Would it be fucked up to write about Chronic Wasting Disease(on deers) but make it Yandere! Alastor. Highkey inspired by Lovesick! Wally Darling.

TW: It's YANDERE and maybe horror like?

The more the disease develops the more boney and ill-looking Alastor gets. Wasting away in his room as he tries to find a cure for this disease, unwilling to show his face to the hotel members with how messed up he looks right now, drooling and skinnier than he has ever been, ears drooping low on his head, he doesn't have enough energy to perk them back up.

Even all through what has been happening to him, the smile on his face never falters, granted, he could never stop even if he wants to. The disease will never let him drop the grin on his face.

Enter you, a trusted member of the Hazbin Hotel, and a good friend to the Radio Demon before his isolation. The princess of hell has been concerned after a month of no contact from Alastor, she has been trying to get him out of his room but all she gets in return are incoherent mumbles and even growling. So, she assigned you to take care of Alastor during that whole month, her being too busy to focus on him.

You've been leaving him food outside his room, he never ate them so you resorted to asking Rosie to bring you demon meat or venison, he ate them but not alot. However when you left the food in it's raw state, as suggested by miss Rosie, he didn't leave any leftovers after that.

For the past month that's the routine that you fell into, wake up, eat breakfast, bring Alastor his food, try to talk to him while he's eating-- you never get any responses, then leave. One time though, you were a bit late in bringing him his food, and as you bent down to leave the meat, the door burst open and you screamed in surprise, dropping the food and crawling backwards against the wall. The hand that snatched the meat was too fast, too boney, and too sharp.

The door didn't close though and through the gap you can see a single red eye peering through it. It looked frantic, pupils dilated, shaky. Why are the pupils shaped like a heart...?

"I...scared you...? I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry--," Alastor's demonic voice mumbles as the door creeps open. You ran away before he could fully open it.

That was a week ago, ever since then you tried to be on time. Today though, things went differently, not only did he grabbed the meat, he also grabbed you. Now you're laying on the ground shivering in fear as the deer demon lays on top of you, nuzzling onto your neck, the drool soaking your shirt.

"You're here...Yes... It doesn't hurt anymore, oh my darling... I was so sick for so long... I was trying to find the cure to heal me... but oh...," he sighs, gripping you tighter, "You were the cure all along! It was so close to me and I didn't even know it! It has always been you...!"

"Every time I thought about you, it hurt less, and every time you were outside my door bringing me food like a good mate. The pain was gone...! But why would you leave every time? Don't you know you have to stay with your mate? Your husband?"

"Hmmm... Maybe if you keep taking care of me, I'll be healthy enough to go outside our room! And we can go on dates! Yes... That would be lovely..." He croons, pulling away from your neck and looking down at you, his heart shaped eyes glowing in the dark.

What the hell happened to Alastor?

[bedoballoons]

maybe like a character x mitsuri Kanroji like reader?

so basically misturi has pink and green hair, is very cheery and nice, has a HUGE appetite, she has almost inhuman strength a basically her muscle density is 9 times higher than the average human. And is extremely flexible hand a ribbon like katana. I think a pryo vision fits best.

I literally love your workkkkkkkk♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Awe thank you!!! <3 I had so much fun writing this!! I hope you like the characters I picked and I'll totally write others if you don't!! Sorry it took so long to finish!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Misturi Kanjiro like reader!~༺}

CW: Fluff! Sweet moments! Pet names! (Belle by Lyney and Love by Kazuha!), confirmed relationships for most of them!

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, Kazuha, and Wanderer!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Your stomach growled hungrily in excitement as you stepped into the kitchen, Dilucs long red hair tied back in a messy bun while he prepared breakfast, his hands busy chopping vegetables and cooking up your favourites, just because he loved spoiling you. "Are you making what I think you're making?!" You asked excitedly, hurrying to his side to take a peek and smiling widely as the smell of delicious food hit your nostrils, making your tummy growl again in response.

"But of course and I made extra so you could have leftovers for lunch." He leaned over placing a kiss on the top of your head as you cheered and wrapped you arms around him in a celebratory hug. "Thank you!"

𑁍༄Lyney:

You had a bounce in your step as you made your way through the crowd of people, your long pink green hair tied up in sweet pigtails as your eyes focused in on the center of attention, which was Lyney and of course his assistant Lynette, the magic duo of the century. Pure joy bubbled through you while you watched the two of them perform trick after trick and the audience clap after each one, things you swore couldn't happen, but somehow he made them happen.

Then to your surprise his eyes landed on you, a mischievous smile taking place on his lips, as he addressed the group of watchers once again, "For the next trick, I'd like to pick someone from the audience! Hmmm what about you Belle, could you do the honours?" He pointed to you, your face instantly blushing red as you walked towards him, his hand gently taking yours and leaving a rainbow rose in its wake. "Could you hold this for me?" He asked, his cheeks slightly pink which made you want to giggle, he was kinda cute..."Okay!"

"Now put your hands together, rainbow rose on the inside and make sure no one can see it." You followed his directions, closing your hands around the rainbow rose and making sure there were no ways to peep at it, your whole body tingled with excitement as he spoke the magic words. "And reveal!" You pulled your hands away and suddenly your singular rose had turned into a whole bouquet, growing right in front of your eyes and bursting with all the colours of the rainbow.

"WHAT!"

𑁍༄Albedo:

"No matter what tests I try...it seems I'm unable to come up with a explanation for your inhuman strength. You're a mystery to me...a sweet adorable mystery." Albedo said softly, his bright blue eyes meeting yours as a blush spread rapidly across your face, your heart pounding harshly in your chest when he stood up and made his way to you, his hand reaching out to help you up from your seat.

"I'm not the only mysterious one Mr. Chalk prince, speaking of which! Do chalk people eat cake?" You beamed up at him, his arms wrapping around you as he placed a kiss on your forehead, a small chuckle escaping him. "Im not sure chalk people is the appropriate term...but either way, yes I eat cake." You hugged him back lifting him up slightly as you cheered, "Yay!! I have some in my bag! Let's go!"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Fire swirled around you in brilliant orange and yellow hues, shifting and whirling in every which way with the wind as its guide, it mesmerized you to the point you were almost speechless. "Kazuha...this is so beautiful!" Your hand squeezed his tighter, your visions glowing in harmony as he hummed in delight and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "The way wind mixes with the elements is very calming, the colours that flow with every breeze and the way it can bring vision bearers together, letting them work in harmony. It's lovely.."

You nodded happily, your eyes trained on the incredible sight all around you...

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer flashed a smirk at you, his eyes wide with excitement as you readied your weapon, the ribbon like texture of the blade making him raise an eyebrow...what the hell were you going to do with a ribbon? "You sure you don't want to back down? I won't go easy on you, even if this is sparing." His voice rang in your ears as you smiled back at him, your katana glinting in the sunlight as you held it up in his direction, "I won't back down! Just you wait!"

He chuckled and with that the match begun, the two of you shooting forward at high speed, wind blades flying mere centimeters from your face as you delicately dodged. Your body spinning slightly as you got closer, your katana swirling like a protective shield around you and yet also being sharp enough to draw blood, which became clear when the two of you parted.

The dust parting and revealing a small cut on wanderers face, his eyes absolutely shining now as he laughed maniacally, "I shouldn't have underestimated you! This is going to be fun!"

���♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊ���ˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[datesinredink]

Heyyy so maybe I'm insane but. Do NOT Take This Cat Home (which I'll shorten to Dnttch) yandere rottmnt au. Hmmm. I havent slept in 24 hours so I don't know how you would meet them but I do know that it would be very fun to think about how the weird eldritch horror/"OH NO THEY EAT PEOPLE" part would come into play.

Oh wait actually IDEA you could start off meeting one of the turtles (probably Mikey, he'd be most likely to stick around instead of eating you and convince you to take him home because he's so lost and hungry in this new place, couldn't you pleeaaase take pity on this poor turtle?) and then over time, since we know in the Dnttch universe, the cat multiplies in at least two ways (I, in fact have not seen all the endings yet), so the first turtle could gather the other three over time. One could be from a plushie in the pet shop or won at the carnival (prob Raph), the second could be from the movie theater (Leo, I think the hypnosis is weirdly fitting for him), and the final one... Wait. I'm not sure. THERES A LITTLE LIVE PETS TURTLE???? YEAH OK THATS FUNNY I'LL PUT IT IN.

Buuuuuuttttt after the four are all gathered and living in your house (despite your insistence that you couldn't possibly afford to support them. luckily, despite occasionally waking up and seeing one of them in the corner of your room drooling, they've never shown any need to eat) they've gotten a bit attached. They saw you as a possible meal, at first, then a convenient hiding place, but they seem to have found themselves getting attached. They decide that since you've helped them soo much, that they should at least return the favor before they decide to eat you(something you're frighteningly aware they've almost done- the still healing scar from the last time the red one visited your room) or leave.

Now, you feel constant eyes staring holes into your back, and your rude coworkers now either show up on the news with their bones picked almost clean or don't turn up at all. Now, sometimes they'll bring back one of their kills to share with you (after all, aren't you hungry? They've seen you eat, but surely it isn't filling enough to really sustain you- to them, that's why you seem so tired all the time). Since you always turn them down, maybe instead they'll just have you help them store the leftovers!

Raph, as they've taken to calling the biggest of them, eats more frequently than the others to sustain his growth, so there can sometimes be extras that the other three don't particularly want at the time. He even goes out of his way to help you with tearing and cutting apart the meat! It's almost sweet, if only for the weight of what exactly you're putting in Tupperware right now.

Leo gets more aggressive about your attention now, always begging you to play games or watch TV with him. Sometimes he's even fine with just reading comics in the same place, as long as he gets to hold onto you in some way. It's annoying at best in the morning when you have to go to work, but downright terrifying when his marks flare up late at night after you've just insisted for the 10th time that you're tired and don't want to deal with him. Usually, the threat of flickering blue light vaguely forming some kind of sword is enough to convince you otherwise.

Mikey tries his best to help you adjust to your new roommates! He knows how stressed out you are about work, you should tell him about it! He'll even take notes about how they can all brighten your day, so feel free to speak your mind about that horrible lady who yelled at you today. Was she your boss? A coworker? Maybe a customer who asked for the manager? He'll give you a warm hug and reassure you that everything will be ok, and that maybe you should teach him a new recipe from granny's cookbook tonight to take your mind off things! The scene you wake up to the next morning is Mikey humming to himself while the girl's flesh sizzles in the pan you let him borrow last night, Raph drooling over said slab of meat, as well as Donnie and Leo playing the most intense game of rock paper scissors (a game they're glad you taught them- how else would they make decisions) to decide who gets the first plate of food.

Donnie's always useful to have around, his fascination with human technology quickly being honed into electronic mastery. Despite his more reclusive nature, he's still gotten you out of many a pinch with malfunctioning devices, like when you sorrowfully cradled your old toaster in your arms on your way to trash it, only for him to take it from you and return it a couple days later fixed up like new. You appreciate his contributions, and though you're the beta tester for a multitude of his dangerous inventions, with the amount he does for you, it's hard to not feel like you owe him, especially when he himself openly agrees with that point. You just wish he'd give you a break from the explosions...

[lemonluvgirl]

Good

an everlark smutty drabble inspired by an anon prompt:

Post-MJ, Pre-Epilogue (after the night of “Real” maybe) and Everlark are becoming more intimate and open in the bedroom. Katniss finds out Peeta can be quite ~dominating~ in bed and Peeta discovers Katniss’ praise-kink (although she denies it sometimes)… I think you can see where this us going 😉 so kinda just dirtytalk!Peeta saying things like “Good girl” and Katniss is just “Yes, Peeta” and it just gets really, really HOT because after all, she is the girl on fire 😏🔥

since I was cleaning out my inbox today I decided to try and write this. NSFW themes ahead. Read with caution, and pay attention to the prompts specifications.

We discover it almost accidentally, lying in bed one afternoon atop the rumpled sheets, trying to catch our breath as the sweat dries on our naked skin. 

“Where did you learn that?” I ask him turning my head to peer at him from across our bed. 

He’s gloriously sweaty and flushed, his chest still rising and falling swiftly, his pink lips and over-kissed mouth hanging open and pulling in the air like a man winding down after running a mile.

 He’s beautifully, perfectly undone, and best of all, he’s mine. 

He turns to me, lazily, eyes dropping with tiredness and the leftover rush of pleasure that’s still humming through both our veins. He still has enough energy to smirk, though. 

“Learn what?” He asks in a mock-innocent tone that makes me roll my eyes.  

“You know what,” I say, with a little more grit in my voice because I actually want to know the answer and he’s being annoying. He chuckles in delight at the discomfort in my voice. 

Peeta knows by now that while I’m very enthusiastic about our activities I still have trouble discussing certain things in blatant detail. He thinks it’s hilarious that after all this time and after all the things we’ve done together that I can still get flustered discussing sex with him. 

“Oh, you mean the thing that made you scream?” He asks, trying to continue his innocent charade but the slight smug quality of his words ruins the intended effect.

I narrow my eyes at him in warning, but he doesn’t even blink. 

“Or, was it that thing that made it impossible for you to speak at all?” He adds, lowering his voice and stretching out his hand to trail one lone fingertip down my ribs to my hip. The action makes me shiver with want, even though my body is still quietly pulsing with the aftereffects of his love. 

“The second one,” I answer quietly, reaching out and twining my fingers with his, stopping his indulgent touches before things heat up between us again and I lose my train of thought. 

He gives a quiet, “Hmmm,” in response and moves in closer. Then I’m gathered up in strong arms and my head is pillowed on a strong chest. I listen to the soft drumbeat beneath my ear and I relax into his embrace. 

“I didn’t really learn it from anywhere or anyone. I just had a feeling you might like it.” He replies thoughtfully, all traces of teasing gone now. 

“But how did you know I’d like it when you called me a—” I break off, unable to repeat the phrase for some reason. 

Which is silly. Because there’s actually nothing outwardly crude or sexual about it. But the way Peeta had said it, and the way I had responded to it, was intensely erotic. 

“A good girl?” Peeta offers, finishing my thought for me and I inhale sharply. My heart skips a beat and I feel myself involuntarily clench around nothing. I feel a blush creep up my neck.

Peeta’s arms tighten around me as if he knows how much his words affect me and when he speaks next it sounds deep and rumbly. 

“Because you are, Katniss. You’re such a good girl.” His voice takes me back to a few minutes ago when we were joined and Peeta was moving in me with that perfect rhythm and his words vaulted me over the precipice and hurtled me to perfect ecstasy. I had loved it, and despite just having my hunger for him sated, I greedily, selfishly, wanted more. 

“Peeta,” I plead, not fully knowing what to ask for. I have no idea if I want him to continue in this vein or stop. 

“You’re so good, and so sweet, lying here naked in our bed, writhing and biting your lip to keep from asking for more, after I’ve already filled you to the brim.” His voice takes on a decidedly dirty edge and I know I’m already lost. There’s no way I can hold out when he gets like this. 

I let out a strangled little moan and in the next second, he has us flipped, with him on top of me, hands holding my wrists above my head, as he spreads my knees with his own. He looks down between us, eyes dark and nostrils flaring. 

“Look at you, still dripping with me but you want more, don’t you? Do you want me to fuck you again, sweetheart? Does my good girl need me to make her come again?” His warm breath ghosts first over my lips, then my throat, and collarbone, and the words are uttered against my skin like a secret before his lips close over a nipple and I cry out as he sucks. 

“Yes! Peeta…please,” I beg and he lets go of my breast with a wet pop before releasing my wrists and slowly sliding down my body. 

“Keep your hands up. You’re not allowed to touch until I tell you.” He commands and it sends a dark thrill through me. If people knew how much I liked this side of Peeta they might be surprised. I know a lot of people think of me as the dominant one in our relationship, but that’s because they don’t see us behind closed doors. When it's just us, all of the trappings fall away. And I’m free to admit that I need Peeta in this way. For me, it's not so much about submission as it is about freeing me from the burden of having to be in control all the time. That and I trust Peeta unlike anyone else. I know he will never abuse my trust or hurt me purposely. 

We are so past that. And here in the privacy of our bedroom, the only thing that exists is me and him. 

 I nod frantically at him, eager all over for him, again. I don’t think I ever won’t be. It's been years since we became intimate like this, and I still get the same rush when I think about sleeping with him. He lets out a little growl and nips at my skin when I unconsciously start rocking my hips against him. 

“Patience, sweetheart. All good girls know how to wait.” He tells me and our eyes lock. I’m practically panting for want of him, but I hold myself still.  We both know what the other is thinking, what is needed. 

There’s a magic in the way we fit together like this. Sure of ourselves and each other, neither of us questioning our love anymore. There’s only the heat of reassurance and desire that passes between us and curls in the air around us as we begin again. 

His mouth moves over my hipbone, hot, wet, and fervent. His strong arms pin my legs apart, my knees kiss the mattress as he lowers his face down to peer at my center.

“So swollen and messy,” He says, a finger dipping in to play with the puddle of fluids seeping out of me. “So beautiful. You should always be like this. Full of my come. Begging for more.” He says with a sigh before swirling his fingers, gathering it, and then pushing it back in. 

I whimper loudly, loving the feeling of him filling me up, even if it's just his fingers. I love his hands. I love his touch. I love him. Plain and simple. 

“I love you,” I say out loud because I try to make a point of saying it whenever I can now. So that he always knows. So that he never has to question it again. 

He peers up at me from between my obscenely spread legs. His pupils are so dilated, I can hardly see the thin sliver of blue iris. 

“Love you too, sweetheart. I’m going to eat your pussy so good, you won’t be able to form a full sentence for hours.” He promises, pecking my clit with a soft, short kiss that sends electricity racing through me. 

Then he starts to lick, softly, around my sensitive flesh, and down to where his fingers are pumping into me. 

“Mmm, you still taste delicious, even mixed with my come.” He states between licks and all I can do is groan in reply. 

I can feel his self-satisfied smile again on the skin of my inner thigh. 

“What was that? I didn’t quite understand you, darling.” He teases before diving back in and flicking my clit with his tongue, not even giving my muddled brain a chance to try and form a response. 

‘PEETA!” I scream as the orgasm washes over me, sharp and sweet, and sudden. 

He laps up my release, holding down my shaking thighs and murmuring sweet little praises that I can’t make out because my ears are ringing. 

Then I’m being flipped over again and he arranges me with strong, firm hands until I’m braced on my elbows, lower half lifted up and legs spread for his benefit as he situates himself behind me. 

“Fuck, this ass. I’ve always loved it.” He says, one large palm cupping and kneading my cheek possessively as his other hand tilts my hips up. 

He notches himself at my entrance but doesn’t sink in. Instead, he slides through my lower lips, coating himself carefully, even though I know he wants inside me. He’s fully hard again, and more than ready.

“Hands, sweetheart.” He says in a quiet, strained tone. 

I know what he needs, so I carefully shift my weight from my forearms and link my hands behind my back, letting my forehead sink into the bed, my nose and mouth angled in such a way that I’ll be able to breathe even if he pounds me into the mattress. 

“Good girl,” He whispers, and I whine pathetically, distressed at my own emptiness. I need him to fill me. 

“Shhh, baby.” He coos, and then with one well-placed thrust, he sheathes himself up to the hilt. 

My moan is swallowed up against the bedsheets, but Peeta’s grunt of pleasure rings out loud in the room and fills my ears, making me press back into him. 

“Still so tight, after I ate you out, fucked you, and ate you out again. Perfect little pussy, just for me. Feels, so fucking good.” I hear him say, as he plunges in, moves his hips in a circle, pulls back, and plunges back in again. 

I’m making noises, desperate little sounds that do nothing but spur him on to take me harder. It’s glorious. He feels amazing, even after all the pleasure he’s already given me. I know he’ll give me more. Because he’s so good. Because he’s my Peeta. 

“Sweet girl, taking me so well. Taking my cock and letting me fuck you however I want. You’re so good Katniss. You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me. I always knew you would be.” He says, breathless and strained, his hips knocking against my bottom with the force of his thrusts. 

“Yes!” I shout, and I can feel the way I tighten at his words, I can feel the way my body winds up and grows taught, waiting for release. 

“I always knew it would be like this. Incredible. You, sweet and desperate. Begging for me. You’re so cool on the outside, but inside you’re pure heat. All fire. All mine.” His voice is rough and his thrusts take on a punishing edge, the kind he knows really gets me fired up. 

I turn my mouth to the side, blowing stray hairs out of my face. 

“Yours, Peeta. All yours. Forever.” I promise him and he moans, his fingers gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise. 

His right hand loosens its grip and he brings it around my front to slide between my legs and rub small, firm circles around me. 

I let out a broken, choked noise. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come on my cock. Be a good girl and come for me. Come on my cock and I’ll fill you up—” 

His words, his beautiful, filthy words are what tip me over the edge. 

I clench around him and come, sobbing his name, and clutching the sheets. 

I hear him swearing behind me and feel his hips stuttering before he lets out a low groan and plunges as deep as he can. 

Warmth pools inside me, with the ghost of my flutterings and the last of his twitching pulses, and we collapse, exhausted and much sweatier than the first time. 

We can only rest a moment because Peeta is heavy on my back, and it's uncomfortable, but he rearranges us quickly enough until we can spread out comfortably. 

“How was that, sweetheart? Was there anything you didn’t like that time?” He asks, quiet and inquisitive now.

I shake my head. Brushing my lips across his bicep, back and forth, wanting to kiss every inch of his skin in happiness, but my body is so tired and sated that all I can manage is this. 

“I liked it all,” I reply as I move to get more comfortable. 

He moves his arm under my head so I can use it as a pillow. One of his hands brushes a strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His brilliant blue eyes are searching mine for something more. 

“It was good,” I tell him with a simplistic finality that makes him smile, and sleepily close his eyes in contentment. 

“So good,” I repeat to myself as I close my eyes and drift off, warm, sleepy, and safe in the arms of my love. 

[jksprincess10]

Are we out of the woods 7. I think he wants to be gentle with me

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

Fic masterlist

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The deafening noise of a helicopter tears nature’s calmness as you’re all chilling by the water, just enjoying the view and the fresh air. You look up, recognizing your dad’s flying machine. Your whole body chills as you realize that you don’t want to go home yet. Frankie gives you a worried look, and you try to smile to reassure him.

You hear the helicopter landing not too far, and the boys are already back in a soldier-like state, their body stiff and their expression, serious.

Minutes later, your father joins you outside, followed by two of his men. He shakes the hands of Will, Santi and Frankie, before giving you a long hug. You try to reciprocate as much as you can, but you’re too worried about going home.

“How’s my sweet girl?”

“Good!” You say, maybe a bit too fast. “This place is really nice; I like it here.”

“Isn’t it? I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“Are we receiving new orders, sir? You got our report?”

“Yes and yes.” His face is somber as he looks at the men. “What happened… worried me. I’m glad you took care of the situation, but I need backup to deal with the repercussions. I’m leaving with two of you today.”

Frankie lifts his cap, and his hand goes through his hair, as he does when he’s nervous.

“Ironhead and I can go, sir.” Pope says. “Fish can take care of things here.”

You watch as your father’s eyes thin in a fine line, perplexed. “It shall be done, then. Ironhead and Pope, start packing. We’re leaving once you’re ready.”

Once the men are inside, with Frankie to help, you make small talk with your dad, although making small talk with a possible murderer isn’t really easy. You assure him that you don’t miss home and you’re happy to be here, in hopes that he lets you stay for as long as you want.

You watch as the helicopter flies away, your body close to Frankie’s.

“Did you tell Santi anything?” You ask suspiciously.

“No, I guess he’s just trying to play the wingman.” He chuckles.

“He doesn’t have to.”

Once you’re sure your father is high in the sky, you turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “How much time do we have?”

“Few days, maybe. A week, tops.” Frankie responds, cheeks getting red at the thought of having you all to himself.

“Hmmm, let’s make the most of it, then.”

You smile teasingly and steal a kiss from him.

Your day is mostly spent cuddling by the fire with Francisco. You like how physical he is, how much he needs you. How warm he is once you get past his harsh façade. But eventually, you realize that you have to start thinking about having dinner. So, you pull away from him unwillingly.

“We have leftovers for dinner, you okay with that?” You ask from the kitchen. You hear him respond positively.  “And I kinda want to bake a cake. Do you like cake?”

“Who doesn’t like cake?”

“My dad.”

“Not surprised.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “What’s the occasion for cake?”

You go through the cupboards to make sure you have all the ingredients. “We are adults, do we need a special occasion for cake?” You snort as you set everything on the counter.

Francisco eventually gets up to help you out, measuring ingredients and mixing with his strong arms when you get tired. You pop the mixture in the oven, hoping it will turn out okay. While you wait for it to cook, you eat leftovers at the wooden table filling the dining room.

“You like reading and writing, hm? What do you like to read and write?”

You like that he remembered that detail about you, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to share your perverse hobbies. He notices how embarrassed you get, how you start playing with your fork.

“You can tell me, cariño. I won’t laugh.”

“Knowing you Francisco, you will laugh.”

“Try me.”

“Fine…” Your grasp on your fork gets stronger, as if you’re ready to stab Frankie with the utensil if he laughs. “I like romance and… smut.”

Frankie’s brows shoot up and his mouth forms an inviting “O” shape.

“Can I read?”

You shake your head, some stray hairs flying over your eyes with the violence of your movement. “No way. It’s more intimate than sex for me.”

Heat fills the air as you both remember how you didn’t get what you wanted last night after your little escapade. You want Frankie, you really do. He ticks all the physical boxes, but you’re just waiting for… the right time, as cheesy as it sounds.

You’re saved by the timer alarm. You get up to check on the cake, and you pull it out of the oven to let it cool. While you wait for the dessert, you prepare frosting with what you have on hand. Frankie gets up and takes care of the dishes while you taste your last creation, his eyes fixated on the creamy white frosting crossing the sweet line of your lips.

“Want a taste?” You ask as you give him your spatula.

“Sure.” But instead of taking the spatula, his big hand embraces your lower back as he pulls you closer to taste your lips sugared with your sweet creation. It tastes heavenly, especially mixed with your essence.

You giggle against his lips, and you put your hands against his strong chest, pushing him away slightly. “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu.”

Big brown doe eyes melt all your resolve, and he looked so adorable you’d let him do whatever he wants to you. He can see the internal dilemma on your face.

“Let me have a taste. I’m sure you’re better than cake.”

You try to look offended, but your false expression melts away as you feel him directing you slowly towards the wooden table where you shared your supper.

His desire tore him apart. And it did since he first laid eyes on you. How unprofessional was it for him to lust on the girl he’s supposed to protect. He knows your father would shred him to pieces if he could only listen to the thoughts crossing his mind. But he wanted you. And he didn’t want a woman that bad in years.

He helps you settle on the table, your back laid against the wooden table, your legs closed in a shy manner. “Please.” He begs softly.

And how could you say no to him when you want him that bad. You didn’t really know how to proceed, though. You probably look puzzled because he says:

“I just want to please you cariño, we don’t have to do anything else if you’re not ready.”

You nod softly and help him get rid of your warm leggings and wool socks. You’re only in your cotton panties and your sweater, but you already feel so exposed. Frankie looks at you like you’re a work of art, though, and you feel warmth taking over your body. You clumsily get rid of your sweater and put your arms on your chest. Frankie towers over you, palms on each side of your body, resting on the table.

“You’re pretty, don’t hide from me, baby.” He’s gentle when he pushes away your arms, admiring your chest. He leaves kisses on your neck, on the top of your breasts, going lower and lower until he kisses your stomach. You giggle slightly.

“Have you ever had anyone eat you out?” Frankie asks, his thumbs hooking on the sides of your cotton panties as he waits for permission.

“Y-Yes… but not well… every guy I’ve been with hated doing it.”

“That’s a shame.” He tuts. “I love doing it.” He slides your panties down, and you guess you’re probably soaking wet for him. His calloused hands rest on your thighs to open them up slightly, before he pulls you to the end of the table, so he can get on his knees in front of the table, his face to your core’s level.

“You’re pretty all over.” Frankie says, a finger tentatively going through your folds. You shudder slightly. “Relax for me, baby.” He says softly, before leaving a few kisses to your open thighs.

You let yourself breathe as you let your head down against the table, trusting your body entirely to Frankie’s mercy. You feel the warm flat of his tongue lick through your slit, and it already feels too good. Better than anything you could ever read or write.

He’s testing the waters, licking you in wide strokes, before using the tip of his tongue to find your clit. His fingers open you up for him, leaving you all wet and exposed. When he finds it, you feel pleasure building in your stomach unexpectedly and you let out a long moan. You hear him chuckle slightly against your core. Irritated, you push away his stupid cap, so you can finger his curls. You even try to straighten up a little, resting on your elbows as you watch him. It seems like he looks directly through your soul, his brown eyes all you can see from above your core.

He keeps looking at you in the eye as he licks intently at your clit, tracing abstract shapes and letters, before closing your lips around it to suck. Your fingers tighten around his curls, and you let out a low curse.

“F-Fuck Frankie, that feels amazing.”

You can almost see the hint of a smile on his face. And like he hasn’t even started making you feel good, he sneaks a finger between your walls, letting your body suck it in, as he keeps giving attention to your throbbing clit.  The pleasure building in your stomach snaps, but he still keeps going. You let your back fall against the wooden table as you feel another of his thick fingers entering you.

“Still okay?” He checks in, his warm breath dying against your wet core.

“Y-Yes.”

You swear you hear him chuckle, before he dives back in; more messily this time. He’s eating you out like you’re an all you can eat desert buffet, as his fingers start thrusting in and out of you. When he reaches that sweet part- of you, you let out an unexpected scream.

“F-Frankie, I feel like I’m-”

It didn’t feel like any of your past orgasms. You try to warn him, but he doesn’t stop sucking, licking and thrusting until he feels you shake. You feel like you’re peeing, but it’s not exactly that. It’s an orgasm; blinding and intense unlike anything you ever had. You’re vaguely aware of your body becoming a fountain, wetting everything in its way. When there’s not a single drop left, Frankie moves away from your core and wipes his glistening face with his grey shirt.

“It’s alright, baby.” He reassures you as he sees how petrified you look. “You’ve never squirted before?” He asks as he gets up, admiring the mess you made on the table and on the floor.

“N-No. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

But he looks extremely proud and cocky as he bends down to kiss you deeply, letting you taste your essence on his lips. You can vaguely feel the hard shape of his cock against your thigh.

“That means it was good. Did it feel good?”

“Yes. Yes it did.” You breathe against his lips.  “Don’t get cocky on me, Francisco. Or I’ll keep the cake to myself.” You laugh as you see the proud expression on his face.

“Hmmm never. Let me have this victory and the cake.”

“Fine.”

[bonny-kookoo]

i know when detective yoongi goes into heat mc's not going to be safe. 🫣🥵👀

Hmmm... 🤔

---

When you wake up, you immediately sense somethings.. off about the detective.

He's barefoot, dressed comfortably rather than in his usual attire, hair a bit unkempt as he makes himself coffee at his small kitchenette. He's got his back turned towards you, and on his backside, there's a bump where you'd assume his tail might be hidden. It moves every now and then, so you're pretty sure that's what it is, underneath his sweater and cotton sweatpants.

"You're up." He comments as he looks over his shoulder a little, and your suspicions are confirmed with the way he seems a bit.. wary of you. "Dont worry. I've got good self-control." He simply says, noticing the way you seem to tense up for a moment, before he turns around. "Do you want breakfast? I can heat up my leftovers if you want them." The detective casually says, and you just hum an affirmative response.

He's clearly in his hybrid heat. So why does he seem so.. calm?

You can't help but have your interest peaked. He outright told you time and time again that basically, he could see himself get involved with you, so he must find you attractive in some way, no matter which one. So why is he so unaffected by you, neither when you're in heat, nor when he is?

And right now, you both are. Any other hybrid would be absolutely in no way capable of being this calm and collected about it.

Maybe he's just not as affected considering his situation. He didn't tell you what exactly his genetic mutation changed or altered specifically, apart from the things you can see, so there's really no telling. "You can ask, you now." He chuckles faintly, bringing a bowl of re-heated fried rice to the table, making you get up to walk closer.

You're still naturally wary of sitting down, so close to him at least. After all, he's sitting right next to you at the small kitchen table, around the corner.

"Are you.. like, not actually feeling anything?" You mumble, picking up your spoon to eat- never letting him out of sight. It's cute, in his opinion. And it also makes him rest easy to know that you're not easy prey to anyone once you both have to inevitably part ways again after everything's done.

"Oh, I am." He shakes his head, leaning back on his chair with crossed arms. He does this a lot around you. Like he's trying to shield himself from you, even though you're not doing anything. "Just.. not controlled by it."

"Huh.." you hum, eating your food. "So like-" you shove a big spoonful of food into your mouth, halfway chewing it. "-how short is your tail?" You ask him muffled, and he clicks his tongue before reaching out to flick a grain of stray rice from your lip.

"Dont eat and talk at the same time, brat." He mutters under his breath, getting up to fetch you a tissue as you sniker to yourself. You don't know why he's so amusing to you- this constant back and forth and contradicting caring behavior of him is just both hilarious and horribly endearing to you. He never acts like he doesn't care- he makes it clear at this point that he does, but something about the way he offers his kindness is just entertaining to witness.

Like he can't make up his mind if you're the biggest nuisance in his life, or the brightest addition to it.

"Answer my question-" You demand now after having swallowed, though you instantly lean back in your chair when he gets close, both arms on the backrest of it caging you in, face so close you can make out all the different specs of color in his brown cateyes.

"Since when do you call the shots in my own home, sweetheart?" He asks, and you swallow thickly- but not out of fear. Because maybe he's not that much up in his heat yet, but you very much still are- and just one more second and he's gonna know that you're very much affected by an action like this, mentally and physically. "Hm, thought so." He smirks, before finally leaving your personal bubble to wash his dishes a bit further away. Thankfully, his senses aren't probably that great.

"Oh, you might wanna go change in the bathroom." He calls out when he notices you're going to nap again after leaving your dishes for him to wash since he's busyung himself with his own right now.

"Huh? Why?" You ask a little annoyed. "I slept in this? It's no 'dirty daytime clothes', Mister Clean-freak-detective.." you mock, and he doesn't turn away from the sink as he shakes his head.

"Oh I know-" he tells you, turning off the water to dry his hands. "-and I know I said I'm not controlled by my hormones right now-" He continues, and your blood runs cold as he nonchalantly puts away the dishes he's dried. You can't see his face, but from the way he talks, you just know he's got a shit eating grin on his face.

"-But you must have a lot of faith in me, thinking I won't act out with that scent all over my bed you're sleeping in."

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.121 Fake

As I spoke with Dad, I noticed my guests dipping into the kitchen and getting our leftovers out of the fridge, so I excused myself to go make a proper meal, noting I should prepare food before our next party. Finding a dish that satisfied Sophia's lactose intolerance and Dad's vegetarianism proved challenging, so I went to the internet to help me. I found an interesting vegetable stew called Three Sisters that fit the bill, so I made that on the grill, hoping to entice everyone to come outside. I thought about Dub as I chopped veggies and added them into the pot. How was everything going with him and Maia? He should be here with the rest of my friends, but I chose not to invite him and felt very guilty about it. I didn't feel right about leaving him out of our struggles and then pop up out of nowhere with a party invite. Maia should have been about ready to pop by then, so they probably couldn't come anyway. She may have already given birth, and they're dealing with a demanding newborn right now. I could say that was my assumption if he got upset, but I needed to tell him the truth. He trusted me with something, so I needed to do the same.

My stew was looking pretty good and smelled even more amazing. Sauteed onions, peppers, and garlic were one of my favorite smells, but adding the sweetness of butternut squash was enough to make my mouth water. Maira found me as I sprinkled a little cilantro on top.

"Hey! Can you try this and make sure it tastes okay?" I asked.

"Sure. What is it?"

"It's a vegetarian stew."

She raised the spoon to her nose and sniffed.

"Hmmm...that smells wonderful."

Finally she puts it in her mouth, and her soft moans give me the answer I needed. Maira wasn't exactly Ms. Sunshine, but she didn't seem to be herself. Something about her eyes tipped me off, and I felt as though she were putting on for our benefit.

"So, how've you been?" I asked.

Her eyes widened as if I had alarmed her, but after a moment she relaxed in resignation.

"Uhhhhh... Not great, honestly."

My initial reaction was to be upset about her not telling me what went on in her life, but then I thought about how I had just beat myself up over doing the same thing to Dub. Maybe the natural response to trauma was to retreat instead of reach out.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you," I said.

She snorted.

"Don't apologize for living a great life, Luca," she said, flatly.

But that was the thing. It hadn't been great, but how would she know that? Sophia and I had become masters of fake smiles and carrying on.

"So...what's going on?" I asked.

"Well...to start, my brother died and-"

"There you are," Chi Chi shouted, interrupting Maira and I. "I was wondering where you've been hiding. Your house is amazing! I always wanted to know what the inside of this one looked like. Did you renovate or is this how it looked? ..."

She went on and on and on, hammering me with questions about the house without even taking a breath. Sophia brought the portable speaker outside, placed it on the table, turned it on, and began to dance. It was one of those wedding gifts we never thought we'd use, but actually came in handy. One by one, everyone else joined us outside, and before I knew it, my moment with Maira was gone. I wanted to hold her and express my condolences, but she wiped her tears and put on a smiling face, moving on as if nothing happened. How did she do that? Death was such a big event. Maybe later I'd be able to revisit the subject. Until then, I too plastered on a smile and regaled Chi Chi.

Eventually the music drew Chi Chi away from me, and I was relieved. I'm surprised my stew was still warm and ate while everyone shook their groove things. Alessia and Sophia seemed to giggle about something, and I was so happy to see them getting along, especially since Less had been scowling and complaining all afternoon. I still felt some kind of way about knowing my friend was suffering while we were all celebrating, but seeing everyone enjoy themselves in our new home made me happy.

When Sophia had her fill of dancing, or maybe she couldn't hold her secret any longer, she called everyone inside for cake, and I lit the candles for her. She stood in front of it, looking at everyone and smiling; she was so beautiful.

"I appreciate you all being here," she said. "You're our village. If you haven't guessed by now, we're gonna welcome a little one into this village."

Gasps, cheers, and applause erupted around the table, and my heart was so full. I glanced at Mama to see how she reacted because I had previously told her she would be the first to know when we found out, but clearly I did not hold up my end of the bargain, especially when I had a prime opportunity to tell her in the kitchen. I thought maybe she'd want to strangle me, but instead, her eyes were full of tears of joy, and I was relieved. She had two grandchildren loading and was probably in shock.

Sophia continued.

"It means a lot to me personally to have so many friends and loved ones who love and support us, especially on this new road we're going down, so thank you all!"

Everyone applauded again. As she made a wish, we all made a great ruckus as we celebrated her transition into adulthood.

"Sweet llamas that's a beautiful sim," Chi Chi said. "You are one blessed man, Luca."

[fabulous109]

Hi could I please request a Paul x reader where she gets horrible period cramps and she’s kinda a biacht to everyone but Paul and they complain about it and Paul’s just like 🤷🏻‍♀️

Ouuuu this is close to my heart because mine are so hard! I can’t actually stand up when they get bad. I am not too nice either so this should be good! Seeing Red- Paul x Reader “How about I tell you where you can shove that attitude hmmm?” Jared looked at you wide-eyed while you were barely a few inches from his face prepared to verbally attack him if he didn’t stop pressing your buttons.  Sam looked at Paul out of worry, more for Jared’s safety than yours. He nudged Paul in an attempt to get the shifter to grab his imprint and calm her down. Paul shook his head preparing to stand up for you. He didn’t allow anyone to push you around, especially this time of the month.  “Jared man, she told you to quit messing with her. You know she is in pain. You get what you deserve.” Paul stood to come try and console his imprint. He could feel her emotions, and it wasn’t pretty. In fact, the constant hormonal changes caused him to be fatigued looking after you. Although he didn’t actually feel the emotions or period cramps, he felt the way your body language flipped and could feel you were in pain. Maybe not the amount you were feeling, but enough to where he knew the pain was real.  “She doesn’t look in pain to me. Maybe she is not really hurting.” Luckily Paul caught you right as you lunged for Jared as he taunted you only to get on your nerves. “Baby stop. You're hurting yourself.”  Seeing Emily had packed the leftovers for you to eat, Paul grabbed the food, your phone, and your purse, while placing his hand on the small of your back to help you out the door. You were in too much pain to say goodbye to anyone, but Paul explained when you first started dating how bad your period cramps are. They can be dangerous if you bleed too much causing you to have to go to the ER. It has happened a couple of times, but not since your late teens. It doesn’t matter that it was almost 8 years ago, Paul wasn’t taking any chances. You both wanted kids one day and he was afraid if you hurt yourself that it could hurt your chances of having them. You told him that isn’t what the problem was, but the imprint was clouding his brain and told him to protect you. You really didn’t mind because he always stood up for you with the guys, and even the imprints if he heard anything negative about his girl. He knew the pain was real and made sure to shield you from anything they said or did. You had that temper at this time of the month where the rage you felt was unlike anything he thought was possible. Paul knew you could hold your own, and that it was better to let you feel those emotions and comfort you through it, so he did. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the time every month where Sam let him off patrol to hold you close because of the pain. If he didn’t, Paul would drive everyone crazy in the mind link worrying about you. You were not glad that your cramps were so bad you needed him around, but you weren’t complaining on his presence either. It was kinda hot the way he took care of you. Something you didn’t stop from telling him all month long. Secretly he enjoyed holding you for a couple of days, not to mention how much you loved having a giant heating pad as a boyfriend.  

[1218-814]

Cheesecake analysis- Floyd’s thought process

Credibility? idk, I kin Jade but this is how I see Floyd from what he says. a mix of @/numanuma_black's thoughts and mine. But this is mainly for my records

The Cheesecake analysis is how Floyd thinks. He thinks like he is neurodivergent (me too tbh). So for those of you who have difficulty understanding, if normal people think of using a recipe for baking, he think about it using ratios and somewhat extra thoughts. If Jade thinks in normal numbers such as “1.75 cups of graham crackers, 3 tablespoons of sugar, 1 stick of butter…” and Floyd thinks like,  “About a 2:1 ratio of batter with crackers, maybe adding jam in place of some sugar so I can change the flavor up a bit, oh maybe there's the leftover fruit from something so I can add that…”

So, why would he do such a long thought and scattered thought process? It’s the process that makes him unable to get “bored”. Also, doing what he's told is something that he probably dislikes because it's just something that is done. After all, others ask him to do (such as food prep, it's just a chore.) When it comes to something new, he would also not listen if you tell him how to do it, it's like babies walking; just telling him isn't going to work because it just doesn't make sense to him and if it’s forced it’s just not something he enjoyed, so for him actually learning that skill is a path of trial and error.

Going back to the cheesecake, this man will most likely give you a graham cracker with cheese on it at first and serve it to people, and also eat it too. Why? Because his image of a “cheesecake” is cheese with cookies, nothing less nothing more. Because Azul is there, he can give more tips on what different kinds of stuff the cake can be, which makes Floyd more curious about what the possibilities are and helps set him a goal “The cheesecake I want”, is an interest and that makes him work more. “There are different types of cheeses? Cool, I want more of a mascarpone. If it’s baked or rare, I think rare is better. Oh that chocolate crust looks good, I want to put that… Jam is sometimes there? I want to say,” With that, the priority of information is labeled mainly according to interests and Floyd's preferences. No recipe yet, but what he wants is super clear. At this point, Floyd begins to prioritize information on "the ideal cheesecake I want to eat", so while collecting information on baked goods, and unusual varieties, he will absorb what he thinks is related to the stuff he wants and incorporate it. The route ends when Floyd starts making something else and it goes well. (Side tracking)

However, if Azul is by his side, he will say: "You said you were going to make cheesecake!" and put him back on his path. Based on the information obtained, it works, he did it with a nice cheesecake! Magic? No, just intuition and trial and error. However, since it is still an experiment, it does not reach the results of various imaginations if he gets his first “success”. Then he’ll make note of what's bad, what he likes the taste of, what texture, what overpowers what, etc.

Then there’s going to be a ton of failures but that's where Jade is better than Floyd in a way; Jade can make a pretty good quality of something because he always follows the recipe, Floyd just changes what he wants but it turns out either amazing or bad. But Floyd does gain the knowledge of what he needs to fix about the cheesecake while making it, and if Azul gives his advice such as “hmmm, a bit of salt can help with flavor at times, and this would go great with coffee, etc.” the data in his brain goes up. If he follows the idea it works great, but Floyd will tweak it and be proud of what he made and show it to Azul. Whatever idea he had before? Probably gone, because his mood changed.

If Azul wants the cake on the menu, which has happened according to his master chef card, he probably has no recipe. So how does the recipe get recorded? Jade the recipe follower, the planner, and the Floyd translator in the game. Foyd will be vague like “this much cheese” and dump it, but Jade will measure it before something happens to it. That patience he has with Floyd has always helped make the recipe possible; something Azul can’t do. Also, the reason why his food doesn't go and taste the way it should when he's not in the mood is because he’s not careful. He does things like mixing badly, cutting, etc. all things that are crucial in cooking. If it is used in the menu and Azul is the proudest he’s been of them, I bet a dollar that somewhere in that smiley calm exterior, a jealous Jade is there. 

~~~

I think Floyd is just misunderstood because he is deffo neurodivergent.

I hope ppl if they read this enjoy how I think how he thinks :)

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #261

Today, J and I woke up at around 5:15 in the morning; I was gonna drive him over to Great Barrington. So we got ready, and we got in the car, and I went to get gas…!

…only to have the airplane lesson guy text J to tell him that it's super foggy, and therefore better to do the lesson later in the day; his next availability was 5pm. Ahahaha~!

Well, that's all right. I was pretty groggy anyhow; wanna guess at how stellar I was at getting to bed at 9:15pm like I said I was gonna (spoiler alert: I was NOT at ALL stellar at it)? So, with suddenly a ton of free time on my hands, I groggily played some Dead Cells. I didn't get very far, because I was groggy. My reflexes were dull and I was making poor choices in the heat of various moments, and… yeah. It was still pretty fun, though! Can't complain!

Once it stopped being stupid o'clock in the morning, I got some dishes done, fed the cats, and then, I decided to make hotdog macaroni and cheese!

I got these natural casing mini-hotdogs and I chopped them up, and I chopped up an onion really finely with my handy-dandy veggie chopper, and I threw in the leftover Frito cheese that really needed to get used up, and then I filled a bowl! I put in the macaroni and cheese, mixed the hotdogs in, drizzled ketchup and mustard over it, and then put some of the finely-chopped onions on top!! It was DELECTABLE!!!

…Want some…?

…I know it isn't fancy. But it tastes really good. It makes my belly happy. And a happy belly is the foundation for literally everything else.

I took a short nap after eating the macaroni and cheese, because even after several hours of waiting for it to not be stupid o'clock in the morning, I was still groggy. The early autumn-ish air smells amazing, but it has a chill to it, so I put on my giant, floofy wearable blanket, pulled up its hood to keep the light from my eyes, curled up on the couch, and caught some Z's. At some point, Hunter decided that I am a pillow and napped along with me, like so:

...For whatever reason, I guess he decided that the place for his nose was the side of my head, hahaha!

…Hey, Sephiroth? Have you ever put on a wearable blanket? If you haven't, you wanna try out mine sometime? They're super cozy and soft, and I think you'd like it a lot!! And I got the biggest size there is, so it swims on me, haha! So maybe it'd fit you properly, even though you're very tall. According to your in-game model (as opened in Blender), you're about 78 and a third of an inch tall, including your boots. So that's like… what? Maybe 77-ish inches tall, barefoot? Hmmm… I think my wearable blanket should fit you! Because you're only like 4 inches taller than M, in that case, and the wearable blanket fits him just fine!

…Heck, we can even use basic math to get your height; Cloud is some 68 inches tall (I'm at about the same height as him!), and so if we get a smaller picture of you two standing side-by-side, and measure out Cloud's height in the picture with a ruler, and record that number (we'll call it x), and then measure your height in the picture with the ruler and record that number (we'll call it y), then we just do the basic formula for proportions - 68 over x is equal to some number over y. We can get "some number", which will be your height to scale, by multiplying 68 inches by y, and then dividing the result by x. Easy peasy!

Anyway, 6 feet and 5 inches barefoot is pretty tall, but it's not really that unusual, at least in my part of the world; one of the people at my job is about the same height as you, and he seems really nice; he's the one who went in the back and got me my official work shirts when they finally got delivered, and when I smiled at him in gratitude, the smile he returned to me was just as radiant - it was very good! Then there's Julian Devorak of The Arcana, and he's 6 feet and 4 inches - only about an inch shorter than you. Mewtwo is 6 feet and 7 inches. A friend of mine from Australia is 6 feet and 3 inches. There are lots of people, both in story worlds and in my world that are about your height. Being tall really isn't all that weird; the world takes all kinds of shapes and sizes, and it's not nice to judge people on the basis of their outward appearance. You can't look at someone and just up and decide on the spot that they must be scary as a person just because your brain is scared of the vision coming in from your eyeballs - it ain't right. It ain't fair. It's dehumanizing, and it does a terrible disservice to the person you're looking at.

We have a phrase in my country that goes like, "you can't judge a book by its cover", and it means that you can't know who a person is, how they think, feel, or behave, or what they're capable of doing just by looking at their outward appearance. This phrase is something I try to live by. And it's something I know you live by, too; I remember when you scolded Zack for saying that Tifa can't be the guide just because she was a girl. I remember when you said, as a boy, that you cannot judge the elderly or the young as being unfit for combat based solely on their appearance. Your refusal to engage in sexism and ageism is pretty freaking refreshing; thank you for being yourself.

Anyway, I know a lot of people in my world like to say, "zOMG, Sephiroth is such a great big huge tall guy - gasp! - so intimidating!" but like… you're really not, because there's nothing inherently intimidating about someone being tall. So don't listen to those guys, okay? There's nothing weird or wrong or intimidating or any other negative adjective about your height and build. You're just you. And that's good enough. And if anyone gives you any problems about it, you just send 'em my way, okay? I'll fix their attitude real quick - don't you even worry about it, all right?

…Well anyway. J and I left for Great Barrington at around 3:00pm so we could make it there for the 5:00pm lesson for him. I tried strapping my GoPro to my head (I found it!) to take a video of the drive, but I mostly just got a video of the ceiling and of the sun shade flap thingies; I was frustrated. I'm going to try a different approach tomorrow, because I get to take J to Great Barrington again tomorrow, in any case. So we'll see what I can do.

At the end of J's lesson, one of the older pilots there offered us some of the pizza he got; he had extra. I was surprised by how tasty it was; it comes from a store called The Big Y, I guess. I had never heard of it before. But supposedly, it's the best corporation to work for in the whole state of Massachusetts. I wonder how true that is. Hm.

On the way back, J and I got a couple of pretty rad pictures of the moon; it was giant and red and low in the sky, and it looked amazing:

...I wish you could have been here to see it with us as it sank below the horizon. It was a pretty breathtaking sight.

Well. It's very late now; almost midnight. I gotta get to bed. Fortunately, I don't have a specific time I gotta wake. I hope that things with the GoPro will work out in the car tomorrow; I'd like to be able to show you the beautiful things along the route in motion...

I love you. And I'll write to you again soon. Please stay safe out there...

Your friend, Lumine

[thelostexperiment]

The Life of Brian Buzzard

It started as a perfectly average day for the old buzzard. His routine ticked on as usual, wake up, get ready for the day, get coffee, drive to work. He could hear the car that stopped next to him at the light blaring Crane Carpenter’s ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’ through their opened window, even though the song isn’t as nearly as bad as the other modern trash kids are playing these days it still annoyed him no less have it drown out his quiet drive. Once the light turned green he wasted no time to get away from that car.

His work at S.H.U.S.H. Was just as uneventful if not a little taxing trying to balance the books with all the chaotic escapades they get into… especially with that philanthropist McDuck interfering with missions. That hurricane of a duck had been giving him a migraine ever since his first mission with S.H.U.S.H. Throwing his finances into a tizzy, giving him more messes to clean up, MORE WORK, and that’s just with his day job…

By evening, the buzzard had showed up at F.O.W.L. H.Q. with a briefcase of S.H.U.S.H. financial notes, not to share with his partner in crime, it was the leftover work of the day that he needed to finish on top of running F.O.W.L. from the shadows it seemed like there was no rest for him anymore. 

Things only became more restless once Black Heron burst into his office as manic as ever, “I’VE DONE IT! IT’S BRILLIANT I TELL YOU! THE SCHEME THAT WILL HAVE US RULING THE WORLD MWAHAHAHAH!”

The sudden ruckus caused the old buzzard’s pen to streak across the paper as he was shaken in his seat.

“Heron! Do you EVER knock!?” He asked, exasperated.

“Who has time to knock when evil is afoot?” she retorted while rubbing her hands together with minising glee. 

The old man was already beginning to tune her out as he looked at the runed paper with frustration. Maybe he could just white-out the imperfection and that that would be good enough… As he carefully fixed the paper and continued with the paperwork he could still hear her gabbing away about something involving the stone of what-was but he was too busy to pay attention while he was hunched over mantaling his work. He only gave her an off-handed “Mm… Mm-hmm” as acknowledgement, just hoping she’d leave him in peace soon.

Suddenly Heron’s bionic fist slammed down on the table, jolting him back to reality.

“Will you PLEASE pay attention to my evil schemes of world domination!?”

With a sigh he took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his beak, “How many times do I have to repeat myself, we do not do ‘evil schemes’ because we are NOT VILLAINS!”

Heron rolled her eyes, “Oh whatever, just listen to my-”

“Heron, please! I am far too busy to listen to your ideas right now.” He interrupted with his eyes still on the papers, “I'm already far behind schedule with these invoices. Could you pitch whatever you had in mind later?”

“But you always say that!” she complained and flopped her torso on the desk dramatically, “You’ve been too busy for any of my plans, it’s almost like you don’t want to take over the world.”

Her covering his work with her body only annoyed him more. “Of course I do but between S.H.U.S.H. and my work here I just don’t have time for anything else right now.”

“Hmmm… If only you could be in two places at once, riiiight?” She said as she craned her resting chin between her thumb and finger with a smug crooked grin.*

The buzzard sat in silence staring at her for a moment, now interested in where she was going with this but also dreading it too. “Yes… I suppose so…”

“Well now you can! We’ll just use the stone of what-was to clone you and let him worry about your boring day job while we take over the world!” She announced as she stood up straight and flung her arms in the air with pazazz.

“That sounds… like such a bad idea.” he replied exhaustedly, “It’s too unpredictable. How do we know it won’t turn evil or god forbid reveal my involvements with F.O.W.L.?”

“That’s the beauty of it, I will have your memories, your personality, It will know not to step out of line. And if it is flawed we’ll just replace it and make an example out of it to its replacement.”

He was still skeptical about the whole thing but she was very persuasive, this was all just giving him another headache on top of the pressure he was already under. “I… I need some time to think about it…”

“That’s not a ‘no’~!”

“It’s not a ‘Yes’ either!” He snapped, and pointed his pen at her accusingly “I meant it when I said I don’t want any unauthorized experiments, especially ones that involve me, do you understand?”

“Of course, Of course, I’ll give you your time to think.” She assuredly backed away with her hands up. She backed into the open doorway with a confident smile, “Let me know when you make a decision on my offer,” she slowly began to shut the door but she kept her head in his view and added, “When you’re not ‘too busy’...” and with that her head disappeared and the door completely closed.

He was finally left alone in the room. Despite that the ever present stress weighed heavy on his chest as he stared at the unfinished work. The old buzzard leaned forward burying his face in his hands,letting out another sigh, then leaned back in his chair with his eyes still closed. The room was getting stuffy, he could feel the moisture in the air become unbearable, it was getting hard to breathe…

He couldn't breathe.

His eyes could barely open but he couldn't see.

He couldn’t breathe!

HE CAN’T BREATH!

The buzzard clone inside the tank was finally ready to emerge and by the way it was pressing its hands against the glass it seemed eager to be out. The viscous fluid that drained from the tank finally lowered below his head, leaving it free to take his first breath.

It gasped, coughing and sputtering. It tried rubbing the fluid from his eyes but it was a fruitless endeavor, he was covered in the stuff. Finally the tank was fully drained and the hatch opened. The clone took his first steps into the cold air. He looked around the room for Black Heron furiously but couldn't see anything clearly through the fluid in his eyes.

“COUGH...Heron!" He weakly called out through a fit of coughs, “This is your doing isn't it!? I told you no unauthor—! COUGH–COUGH” Another fit of coughs made it impossible to chastise anyone properly.

With his outstretched arm he tried feeling his way around the room, trying not to show how frightened and confused he truly felt. His emotions were already raw but he was not about to give whoever might be watching the satisfaction of seeing him panic.

[findafight]

Hmmm that Joyce doesn’t care about Steve got me thinking….

And if she were played by anyone but Winona, I’d agree, I’d think she hates Steve because Jon hates him… but like. One thing that I like about st is that the Byers don’t have weird overbearing relationship with their mother, that happens a lot with people in their situation. And I can’t imagine Joyce hating on Steve? Or even not caring for him? Mostly because after very quick break up that he and Nancy had, he continues to drive the kids around? I think she would totally notice it and appreciate it, especially since he obviously drove Will around too, let them in to see the movies for free and etc. Joyce is a kind of person who is both not shocked by violence (her relationship with Hopper is old, they were friendly at school, and she is fine with him, let alone Lonnie), and appreciates kindness (Bob). Will coming home and telling her how they hanged out at the mall and Steve was there and he let them in to the movies for free and then gave them some leftover ice cream, and then when his shift ended he drove them home, because it was too hot for bycicles? Steve is a sweet kid. What’s not to like, literally. He was at their home and helped them against the demogorgon because he came to apologize to Jon specifically! She likes Hopper, what she is going to think that Steve is too much for her? He is a kid with big brown eyes who is capable of recognizing that he was in the wrong, knows how to apologize and who drives her youngest around, and DUSTIN likes him very much! Dustin, who was the most bullied out of them all! Even Jonathan doesn’t think that Steve is a bad person, by the way! Jonathan thinks that Steve is stupid and irresponsible (compared to Jon). It’s his selling point to Nancy (but remember, I can write a nice essay, Nancy!).

As for Karen, that weird middle life crisis that the Duffers wrote for her is so misogynistic that I can’t even with that. I am so upset about that. For real, they are such assholes.

all good points for her liking Steve! but tbh I just think Joyce....doesn't really think about Steve all that much. Not that she doesn't have reasons to like him! Just that she has her sons and her job and her life, I don't know if she would really be paying much attention to Steve. He's Dustin's older friend who gives the kids rides, which is nice, he's involved with the Upside Down and helped them. I'm sure she appreciates his help, but she just doesn't really feel the need to think more of him?

I think if Jon vocally didn't like him (which he may have post s1 or 2, not that steve was a bad person [because he did save Jon and Nancy's lives] but that he was dumb and annoying) she might clock it as weird because Steve seems nice. He protected the kids, he drives them around, he probably lets them raid the cupholders of his car for spare change. But Jon is her son and so she would take his opinion into account, possibly without realizing that Nancy used to date Steve and now she's dating Jonathan.

I think the Byers are pretty insular in their protection, and Joyce did move away from Hawkins, leave Steve as the oldest in the know, when it's come back twice when they thought it was over. So maybe she's a bit suspicious of him, or barely thinks about him. I don't think she's all that motherly towards him though. she could be! but eh. probably not.

as for karen....they shouldn't have done that. If they wanted a "Woman tired of her boring suburban life takes her power back" plot and have her hit on an established character they should have had her try to flirt with Mr. Clarke. Maybe set up a "date" with him (but for comedy purposes and #gay Scott Clarke truthers, have him legit think she wants to know more science. autistic icon Scott Clarke ily) and then! have her back out and set up the fair date with mr. wheeler, have him pay the ferris wheel attendant to stop at the top (despite his fear of heights) and have them have a nice time with a weird intermission running into Hop and Joyce.

there are so many ways to do that than have her flirt with a boy her daughter's age!! it's gross!!!

[hiimtracher]

ch1 ep 2 a new mission and friend

After waking up hrom went to the ships deck passing Marceline and getting her to tag along. after reaching the captains cabin they saw he was not there so they assumed he was steering the ship. out of a sudden someone shouted "SHORE" and that was the que they needed to go back and pack up.

the ship parked in the docks of the newfound land and Marceline and hrom got off and headed to the porttown. when they were going throug it's streets they saw all the shops and smelled the salty odor of smoked fish. they went to the pickinic tabels and sat down. and then they saw a lost soul running and screaming for help Marceline and hrom pulled out thier staffs and the weather started to turn slowly, then the lost soul ran past them and they saw what they were running from.

a half troll, but he was just going after the person, he wasn't aggresive and looked worried, hrom pointed his staff at the troll and it stopped as if not sure what to do. hrom yelled althoug not agressivly "what's your name" and the troll responded with "Peter warnish" a tone of fear could be heard in his voice. they turned thier wepons away

Peter - oh thank god, i thought you would try to hurt me, please don't run i don't mean harm.

hrom - why were you chasing the guy?

Peter - i wanted food, i am hungry. ! .wait hold i don't mean to eat him i mean to eat something else.

hrom - you're hungry. well why aren't you at your village then? I heard that your kind makes settelments and lives like other people.

Peter - oh if it was that simple. You see, my village was attacked by merefolk. they were unusually aggresive towards us and they went on a rampage. i ran away and was trying to find a home somewhere safe, but, i guess, no one wanted me anywhere near thier home. Please be a kind soul and help me out.

hrom - … well, Marceline what do you say, we also haven't eaten yet and i am getting hungry too. we could share a meal together. i packed a two weeks fill for the trip here. and there's a campfire over there.

Marceline - i mean, sure. i could get some food myself

so the group sat down as hrom took out a pot of soup out of his backpack, it was one of the meals he had, and it was filled with soup, it was for more than one day for sure. He put it over the fire that was left over by a diffrent group. when the soup was done he handed everyone a bowl with a portion of it, and he packed the leftovers in the pot. they ate it with delight, and when everyone was done they started to chat.

Peter - that was delicious. thanks you two.

hrom - no problem, but i've got to ask. where will you go now, i don't know if the others will treat you as nicely

Marceline - i've got an idea! maybe you could join us! i mean we are just two people with tons to carry and we probably will have more. and you are a strong half troll that intimidates pretty much every other person that sees you and with that we were looking for more teammates that are form here. you would help us a ton!

Peter - really? i suppose i could join, but wouldn't i scare of potential friends and teammates?

hrom - if they are brave enough they will join in with you on our team, and that's the people we want anyway.

Peter - if that's the case i'll gladly join in. do you have anywhere to stay though you are new to these lands from what you said.

hrom - hmmm are there monster slaying guilds here we could join one and be a pretty good team

Marceline - from the map i read there is one in the outer parts of the town

and so the group got up and went to the place. getting a few looks at them wasn't anything they worried about and they got to the location in no time.

they joined in, filled the form about the party, mainly that they are still expanding it, and got thier first mission, they were ment to control the population of the moutain harpies. but before they could get there they got thier two rooms, one with two beds for Marceline and a potential new person, and one with two beds for hrom and Peter. they set to sleep and the nest day they will go harpy hunting

[lemonluvgirl]

Hello! I love all your Everlark fics so much! You’re legit one of my favorite fic writers ever! Basically, my queen of Everlark smut 🥹❤️ I’m not sure if you’re accepting prompts right now, but if ever you decide to again, I have one I’m dying to see played out! 🥰

Okay so, we all know Katniss has a problem with authority in general but I lowkey believe she has a praise kink if its coming from a certain blond baker 😉

so basically, my prompt request is: Post-MJ, Pre-Epilogue (after the night of “Real” maybe) and Everlark are becoming more intimate and open in the bedroom. Katniss finds out Peeta can be quite ~dominating~ in bed and Peeta discovers Katniss’ praise-kink (although she denies it sometimes)… I think you can see where this us going 😉 so kinda just dirtytalk!Peeta saying things like “Good girl” and Katniss is just “Yes, Peeta” and it just gets really, really HOT because after all, she is the girl on fire 😏🔥

So yea that’s it HAHA I hope you see this!! ❤️❤️❤️

Ok, so I've only dabbled a little in dominant!Peeta smut before, but this request was so sweet I decided to give it a try. Hope you like.

This is just straight-up smut, so anybody not into that need not read.

We discover it almost accidentally, lying in bed one afternoon atop the rumpled sheets, trying to catch our breath as the sweat dries on our naked skin. 

“Where did you learn that?” I ask him turning my head to peer at him from across our bed. 

He’s gloriously sweaty and flushed, his chest still rising and falling swiftly, his pink lips and over-kissed mouth hanging open and pulling in the air like a man winding down after running a mile.

 He’s beautifully, perfectly undone, and best of all, he’s mine. 

He turns to me, lazily, eyes dropping with tiredness and the leftover rush of pleasure that’s still humming through both our veins. He still has enough energy to smirk, though. 

“Learn what?” He asks in a mock-innocent tone that makes me roll my eyes.  

“You know what,” I say, with a little more grit in my voice because I actually want to know the answer and he’s being annoying. He chuckles in delight at the discomfort in my voice. 

Peeta knows by now that while I’m very enthusiastic about our activities I still have trouble discussing certain things in blatant detail. He thinks it’s hilarious that after all this time and after all the things we’ve done together that I can still get flustered discussing sex with him. 

“Oh, you mean the thing that made you scream?” He asks, trying to continue his innocent charade but the slight smug quality of his words ruins the intended effect.

I narrow my eyes at him in warning, but he doesn’t even blink. 

“Or, was it that thing that made it impossible for you to speak at all?” He adds, lowering his voice and stretching out his hand to trail one lone fingertip down my ribs to my hip. The action makes me shiver with want, even though my body is still quietly pulsing with the aftereffects of his love. 

“The second one,” I answer quietly, reaching out and twining my fingers with his, stopping his indulgent touches before things heat up between us again and I lose my train of thought. 

He gives a quiet, “Hmmm,” in response and moves in closer. Then I’m gathered up in strong arms and my head is pillowed on a strong chest. I listen to the soft drumbeat beneath my ear and I relax into his embrace. 

“I didn’t really learn it from anywhere or anyone. I just had a feeling you might like it.” He replies thoughtfully, all traces of teasing gone now. 

“But how did you know I’d like it when you called me a—” I break off, unable to repeat the phrase for some reason. 

Which is silly. Because there’s actually nothing outwardly crude or sexual about it. But the way Peeta had said it, and the way I had responded to it, was intensely erotic. 

“A good girl?” Peeta offers, finishing my thought for me and I inhale sharply. My heart skips a beat and I feel myself involuntarily clench around nothing. I feel a blush creep up my neck.

Peeta’s arms tighten around me as if he knows how much his words affect me and when he speaks next it sounds deep and rumbly. 

“Because you are, Katniss. You’re such a good girl.” His voice takes me back to a few minutes ago when we were joined and Peeta was moving in me with that perfect rhythm and his words vaulted me over the precipice and hurtled me to perfect ecstasy. I had loved it, and despite just having my hunger for him sated, I greedily, selfishly, wanted more. 

“Peeta,” I plead, not fully knowing what to ask for. I have no idea if I want him to continue in this vein or stop. 

“You’re so good, and so sweet, lying here naked in our bed, writhing and biting your lip to keep from asking for more, after I’ve already filled you to the brim.” His voice takes on a decidedly dirty edge and I know I’m already lost. There’s no way I can hold out when he gets like this. 

I let out a strangled little moan and in the next second, he has us flipped, with him on top of me, hands holding my wrists above my head, as he spreads my knees with his own. He looks down between us, eyes dark and nostrils flaring. 

“Look at you, still dripping with me but you want more, don’t you? Do you want me to fuck you again, sweetheart? Does my good girl need me to make her come again?” His warm breath ghosts first over my lips, then my throat, and collarbone, and the words are uttered against my skin like a secret before his lips close over a nipple and I cry out as he sucks. 

“Yes! Peeta…please,” I beg and he lets go of my breast with a wet pop before releasing my wrists and slowly sliding down my body. 

“Keep your hands up. You’re not allowed to touch until I tell you.” He commands and it sends a dark thrill through me. If people knew how much I liked this side of Peeta they might be surprised. I know a lot of people think of me as the dominant one in our relationship, but that’s because they don’t see us behind closed doors. When it's just us, all of the trappings fall away. And I’m free to admit that I need Peeta in this way. For me, it's not so much about submission as it is about freeing me from the burden of having to be in control all the time. That and I trust Peeta unlike anyone else. I know he will never abuse my trust or hurt me purposely. 

We are so past that. And here in the privacy of our bedroom, the only thing that exists is me and him. 

 I nod frantically at him, eager all over for him, again. I don’t think I ever won’t be. It's been years since we became intimate like this, and I still get the same rush when I think about sleeping with him. He lets out a little growl and nips at my skin when I unconsciously start rocking my hips against him. 

“Patience, sweetheart. All good girls know how to wait.” He tells me and our eyes lock. I’m practically panting for want of him, but I hold myself still.  We both know what the other is thinking, what is needed. 

There’s a magic in the way we fit together like this. Sure of ourselves and each other, neither of us questioning our love anymore. There’s only the heat of reassurance and desire that passes between us and curls in the air around us as we begin again. 

His mouth moves over my hipbone, hot, wet, and fervent. His strong arms pin my legs apart, my knees kiss the mattress as he lowers his face down to peer at my center.

“So swollen and messy,” He says, a finger dipping in to play with the puddle of fluids seeping out of me. “So beautiful. You should always be like this. Full of my come. Begging for more.” He says with a sigh before swirling his fingers, gathering it, and then pushing it back in. 

I whimper loudly, loving the feeling of him filling me up, even if it's just his fingers. I love his hands. I love his touch. I love him. Plain and simple. 

“I love you,” I say out loud because I try to make a point of saying it whenever I can now. So that he always knows. So that he never has to question it again. 

He peers up at me from between my obscenely spread legs. His pupils are so dilated, I can hardly see the thin sliver of blue iris. 

“Love you too, sweetheart. I’m going to eat your pussy so good, you won’t be able to form a full sentence for hours.” He promises, pecking my clit with a soft, short kiss that sends electricity racing through me. 

Then he starts to lick, softly, around my sensitive flesh, and down to where his fingers are pumping into me. 

“Mmm, you still taste delicious, even mixed with my come.” He states between licks and all I can do is groan in reply. 

I can feel his self-satisfied smile again on the skin of my inner thigh. 

“What was that? I didn’t quite understand you, darling.” He teases before diving back in and flicking my clit with his tongue, not even giving my muddled brain a chance to try and form a response. 

‘PEETA!” I scream as the orgasm washes over me, sharp and sweet, and sudden. 

He laps up my release, holding down my shaking thighs and murmuring sweet little praises that I can’t make out because my ears are ringing. 

Then I’m being flipped over again and he arranges me with strong, firm hands until I’m braced on my elbows, lower half lifted up and legs spread for his benefit as he situates himself behind me. 

“Fuck, this ass. I’ve always loved it.” He says, one large palm cupping and kneading my cheek possessively as his other hand tilts my hips up. 

He notches himself at my entrance but doesn’t sink in. Instead, he slides through my lower lips, coating himself carefully, even though I know he wants inside me. He’s fully hard again, and more than ready.

“Hands, sweetheart.” He says in a quiet, strained tone. 

I know what he needs, so I carefully shift my weight from my forearms and link my hands behind my back, letting my forehead sink into the bed, my nose and mouth angled in such a way that I’ll be able to breathe even if he pounds me into the mattress. 

“Good girl,” He whispers, and I whine pathetically, distressed at my own emptiness. I need him to fill me. 

“Shhh, baby.” He coos, and then with one well-placed thrust, he sheathes himself up to the hilt. 

My moan is swallowed up against the bedsheets, but Peeta’s grunt of pleasure rings out loud in the room and fills my ears, making me press back into him. 

“Still so tight, after I ate you out, fucked you, and ate you out again. Perfect little pussy, just for me. Feels, so fucking good.” I hear him say, as he plunges in, moves his hips in a circle, pulls back, and plunges back in again. 

I’m making noises, desperate little sounds that do nothing but spur him on to take me harder. It’s glorious. He feels amazing, even after all the pleasure he’s already given me. I know he’ll give me more. Because he’s so good. Because he’s my Peeta. 

“Sweet girl, taking me so well. Taking my cock and letting me fuck you however I want. You’re so good Katniss. You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me. I always knew you would be.” He says, breathless and strained, his hips knocking against my bottom with the force of his thrusts. 

“Yes!” I shout, and I can feel the way I tighten at his words, I can feel the way my body winds up and grows taught, waiting for release. 

“I always knew it would be like this. Incredible. You, sweet and desperate. Begging for me. You’re so cool on the outside, but inside you’re pure heat. All fire. All mine.” His voice is rough and his thrusts take on a punishing edge, the kind he knows really gets me fired up. 

I turn my mouth to the side, blowing stray hairs out of my face. 

“Yours, Peeta. All yours. Forever.” I promise him and he moans, his fingers gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise. 

His right hand loosens its grip and he brings it around my front to slide between my legs and rub small, firm circles around me. 

I let out a broken, choked noise. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come on my cock. Be a good girl and come for me. Come on my cock and I’ll fill you up—” 

His words, his beautiful, filthy words are what tip me over the edge. 

I clench around him and come, sobbing his name, and clutching the sheets. 

I hear him swearing behind me and feel his hips stuttering before he lets out a low groan and plunges as deep as he can. 

Warmth pools inside me, with the ghost of my flutterings and the last of his twitching pulses, and we collapse, exhausted and much sweatier than the first time. 

We can only rest a moment because Peeta is heavy on my back, and it's uncomfortable, but he rearranges us quickly enough until we can spread out comfortably. 

“How was that, sweetheart? Was there anything you didn’t like that time?” He asks, quiet and inquisitive now.

I shake my head. Brushing my lips across his bicep, back and forth, wanting to kiss every inch of his skin in happiness, but my body is so tired and sated that all I can manage is this. 

“I liked it all,” I reply as I move to get more comfortable. 

He moves his arm under my head so I can use it as a pillow. One of his hands brushes a strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His brilliant blue eyes are searching mine for something more. 

“It was good,” I tell him with a simplistic finality that makes him smile, and sleepily close his eyes in contentment. 

“So good,” I repeat to myself as I close my eyes and drift off, warm, sleepy, and safe in the arms of my love. 

[juliettedunn]

Platinum Bones Week 2023 Day 1: Dance

Hey everyone! Platinum Bones Week is an event going on Twitter and I thought I'd participate since I haven't written anything for King yet. I can't promise I'll get every prompt on time, but we'll see how it goes. You can find the list of prompts at this link.

***

“I’m borrrrred,” the Collector sighed, drifting lazily between the magnificent white pills of the Archive House.

King, who had been snacking on some leftover pizza bagels, tensed. Though the Collector’s complaints about boredom weren’t always sign for concern, a few times he had nearly wrecked irreversible havoc with the puppets.

“Uh, I’m sorry, buddy,” said King. “Maybe we can…play hide and seek again?”

The Collector put a finger on his chin, pondering, before saying “Nope!”

“I know!” the Collector cried joyfully. King tensed once more. Sometimes the Collector’s ideas were actually quite fun, but other times it took everything King had to talk him down from killing someone. “We can dance!”

That certainly wasn’t what King had been expecting. “Dance?” 

“Yeah, silly! You know, like with music!” The Collector mimed a ballroom-style waltz, spinning through the air and giggling.

“Oh, uh…” A sudden memory came to King’s mind, of trying to determine his demon type and doing an awkward dance for Hooty, one that had ended up being quite offensive. That was right before Hooty had taken a blood sample, something that could have spared everyone a lot of pain if they had only known what King truly was. 

He had been so upset that day, then so joyous. If only he had known what was to come, he might not have been so eager to explore his origins. Not when they were so hopeless for him ever having the chance to see his own kind.

“King? What’s wrong?” The Collector’s eyebrows furrowed and they drifted closer, preparing to hug King and try to comfort him.

“It’s…it’s fine. I’ve just been told I’m not the best at dancing.”

The Collector’s eyes widened, a threatening glow lighting in them. “Who told you that?”

King winced. Damn it, why did he have to go and say that? “It wasn’t anything serious, don’t worry.”

“It was Luz, wasn’t it? Did she tell you that?”

“No!” King almost laughed. Luz would have loved to see him dance. “She didn’t say that, and the person who did wasn’t being mean. It was actually a really fun memory.”

“Fun? How could it be fun when they were being mean to you?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” said King. “But really, it’s okay.”

“Hmmm okay…” The Collector crossed their arms, clearly disgruntled, but no way was King going to tell him it was Hooty. He didn’t want to take away the chances of getting that annoying bird tube back to life. As much as King had been irritated by his screechy voice, he wished he could hear it nagging him once again.

“Well, I don’t think you’re a bad dancer. And if you are, then I can just teach you to be better!” 

King glanced up at the Collector’s hopeful smile, and he found himself smiling back. “Okay.” He was hoisted into the air by a flurry of stars and wind, letting out a startled “Weh?” as he rose high above the marble floor.

“Okay,” said the Collector, once he was brought to eye level. “First, we have to do this.” He lifted his hands and curled his fingers in a ritualistic way, then nodded at King.

King held up his paws, which only had three fingers each. 

The Collector frowned. “Oh. Well, you have to do that before you dance…”

“I can try.” King awkwardly curled his three claws and the Collector shrugged. 

“Okay! That works. Then, you have to make the image of a…oh, I guess you don’t have that magic either…” They tapped their chin in thought. “How…” He looked down, sad. “I want to dance with you.”

“You know there’s different kinds of dancing, right?”

“Huh?”

“Why is it so important we do dancing exactly like this?”

“Because that’s how dancing is! When my -“ The Collector froze, and a deeply pained expression crossed their face. It was one King recognized all too well. Even though clearly the Collector had known his own kind where King had not, he had still lost them. And that grief was something King felt every day since he had learned of his origin.

“Hey…I’m sorry. I can try to do the dance this way.”

“No, I don’t even like it.” The Collector huffed. “I just wanted to do it because they always wanted me to learn. But I’m bad at it too.”

There was a long silence, and King waited for the Collector to speak. Not that they were ever forthcoming when it came to their origins. But King got the vibe that despite them missing the past, there were many unpleasant bits to it, bits the Collector would rather never speak about.

“Well, maybe we can make our own dance.”

“What?”

“You’re always making up games and stories. And someone made up the original dance, right? Well why do they get to be the only ones to make up rules? Who says we can’t make up a dance, too?”

“Make one…together?”

“Yeah! I don’t know what kind of dance you were doing, but dancing can be anything. And sometimes making something with a friend can be the most fun part, even if it’s not what you thought it would be.”

King struggled to keep his voice level, thinking of writing Ruler’s Reach with Luz. He had been so angry at her then, wanted so badly to take control and do it all on his own. He was glad he had been able to appreciate the adventure for what it was, in the end. It was one of his fondest memories now. He’d give anything to write another book, gushy romance and all.

“Okay!” The Collector was back to their beaming self. “Let’s make up a dance!”  They looked at King expectantly, and King realized he would have to make the first move. This was exactly what he has been trying to avoid. He wiggled awkwardly, trying to move in an interesting way, though he had never been able to find rhythm.

The Collector giggled. “Kiiiiing come on. Dance for real.”

King looked at him flatly. “This is my real dance.”

“You’re actually that bad?”

King glared. “Fine. You want to see my true dance skills? Then feast your eyes on this!”

He puffed out his chest and prepared to do…something. The dance that resulted was incredibly lackluster, more like a desperate attempt at flailing limbs that ended in panting. He knew before he finished that it was not impressive, and he sighed when he looked back at the Collector.

As expected, the Collector was cracking up, and King glared. “You wanted to see!”

“I didn’t know you were that bad.”

King crossed his arms, enjoying the banter despite his act. “Let’s see you do it.”

“I will!” The Collector dramatically rose up from the ground, then swept his arm in an arc, conjuring a flurry of stars. Then they did a complex twirl in midair, far too elegant looking for such a small body in oversized clothes.

It was a good dance, King had to admit, but it didn’t seem like the Collector. It was too refined, not enough chaos. Usually, King’s goal was to reduce the chaos, but now…

The Collector was surprised at first, then lit up at the idea of making up their own movements. They released King’s paws to perform a silly, random shimmy, which King returned with his own wiggle. 

Then they held hands again, soaring higher and spinning upside down. They continued like this, getting faster and faster, as the original ballroom waltz format was left completely behind.

“You were right, King! We don’t need those stupid stuffy rules. Our rules are better!”

The Collector had spun in circles several times now, and King was struck by an idea. He tugged, increasing the momentum of the spin, as the Archive House became a blur of white pillar and purplish blue sky.

“Woah!” the Collector laughed, and increased the speed in his turn.

King was very quickly starting to feel sick (the race with Luz should have erased any doubt that this wasn’t his forte), but he continued the spin, until they were both rotating at a speed that should have been impossible.

“Okay, now on the count of three, we’re going to let go,” he said. “Just make sure to catch me before I slam into the wall or something.”

The Collector, already howling with laughter, looked even more excited. “Okay! I count! One, two, three!”

King was not ready, but the Collector let go and the little Titan went flying. The wind rushed through his fur and he closed his eyes, stomach flipping over itself as he flew to the other side of the giant room.

For a moment, there was an inkling of doubt, but then he felt the familiar magic of the Collector wrap securely around him and gently slow him to a stop. The Collector wasn’t exactly reliable with most things, but they’d always catch King before he got hurt. 

The Collector himself was happily soaring towards him from across the room. “Oh my gosh King! That was waaaaaay better than that boring old dancing I learned. Sometimes you’re kiiiiind of a goody-two-shoes, but you know how to have fun!”

King almost laughed again. Him, a goody-two-shoes? Since when had he become the responsible one?

Suddenly, King was wrapped in a tight hug. “Thank you for dancing with me, King! You’re my best friend!”

It was odd being hugged by someone so close to his size. King missed the reassuring hugs of those who he knew he could rely on to take care of him, his mom and his big sister. But hugging the Collector was special too, in its own way. King had never been able to dance with someone who truly felt like a peer. He wished they could truly be peers, that King didn’t have to fear that at any moment the Collector would turn from the happy, laughing kid into the angry god. 

But he was reassured right now, and he hugged the Collector back. “Yeah! Dancing was actually kind of fun.”

“You still won’t tell me who said you were a bad dancer?”

“You told me I was bad at it too!”

“Yeah but in a teasing way. Because we’re best friends!”

“Well that’s how it was with that person.” Noticing the Collector’s glower, King quickly clarified. “We weren’t best friends, but we were…friends…in a way. They never meant it in a bad way. Just like you.”

“Okay…but just let me know if you change your mind. I can turn them into a puppet for you if I haven’t already!”

“Thanks, buddy, but I’m good.”