#hullo! I’m back!

[bunny-jpeg]

hullo bunny!! i’d love to order peanut butter bars and champagne with lewis hamilton!! please and thank you <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? hit up the menu for more information! everything you need should be there, i love receiving requests so please, send em my way! i even have new items on the menu for your choosing! (been a busy baker!). as for this order, thank you for submitting, lovely anon! i hope you enjoy and thank you!

also check out the master-list!

peanut butter bars (“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, biting/hickies, lewis in love

it was the sight of you in one of lewis' t-shirts that made something bubble to the surface. it was an old t-shirt, the honest lewis thought he threw out.

but there you were eating breakfast at the kitchen island, the way you sat let the shirt right up a little bit more. lewis got a sight of the softness underneath.

and that was how lewis knew he was fucked.

the sight of you in his clothes stuck with him for the few days afterwards. when he sat in the kitchen he thought about it. when he was at the gym, it was on his mind. he wondered if you'd wear his jewellery very casually or the cost of it scare you off. he wondered if you'd wear his more expensive clothes.

you often shied away from things that were too lavish. you were probably the least expensive sugar baby on the planet. most would've easily pocketed his expensive belongings on top of their payments. but you one time got all flustered because lewis suggested that you got a better (read: more expensive) cut of meat from the grocery store.

but the entire thing spoke to something deeper. the lingering feelings he had for you. he knew of your little arrangement. while not a sex worker, you went with him to events and cheered him on at the track. you were almost a live-in girlfriend, but mostly a beauty to hang around him.

but he yearned for something deeper. he wanted to be your one and only. he mostly got that fix through sexual intimacy, while not part of the agreement. it was hard to deny the attraction between you two.

it only made sense in the end

“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.” lewis groaned as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he rubbed himself up against you before he captured your lips.

he hated being desperate, but there was something about you that made something thrum inside of him. the engine of his soul was revving up at the feeling of closeness.

you giggled and held him by the back of the head to make him look at you. you smiled, his chin was on your chest as those dark eyes looked up at you. it felt so out of character, the often cool lewis hamilton was starting to get riled up.

you cupped his face with both hands and smiled, "lewis. do you like me?" you said in an almost flirty tone.

he swallowed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you as close as you could get. he tried to compose himself as he said, "you've been on my mind for days now... i think you've made me lost it. i've never been like this with anyone else."

you chuckled lightly, trying not to show the shock across your features. you could feel the tightness in your chest. you replied, "you're a bad sugar daddy, hamilton."

he shifted up towards and leaned in for a hot kiss. his lips square with yours as he held you close to him. he replied, "then i'll have to be a better lover."

you rubbed up against him, his hardened cock poked against your stomach. you replied, "good, i'm in need of a good one." before you kissed him once more.

his hands then worked to get your bra off, followed by pushing your panties down in a feverish rush. he groaned a little bit into the kiss. this was real. you both finally crossed the line after toeing it for so long.

soon you were both naked and lewis braced his hands on either side of you. he looked down at you and he licked his lips. you reached for him and playfully dragged your perfectly manicured nails across his tattooed chest.

he exhaled deeply and swallowed. his bare cock twitched at the feeling. he said, "yeah, you mark me. i'll mark you? how about you wear some of my rings. and you can claw up my back."

you blushed a little, "aren't they expensive."

"i'd pay more to have your teeth marks tattooed onto me." he replied, only half joking. he watched your squirm and almost cover your face. he chuckled and leaned in closer to you. he inhaled your scent and felt his cock grow painfully hard. he needed the sweet release of his precious angel's cunt.

"you're insane." you giggled. flowering at the attention, you always did. you were a sucker for him. at very few points in your life did you feel like the center of someone's world. but lewis was different, the light he carried for you.

it was only a matter of time before the dam came down. he took you by the hips and leaned back on his heels. he admired the feeling of your thighs in his hands. the right amount of softness under his palms.

he laughed a little, "you feel so good. i'm sorry i couldn't be your sugar daddy. i hope you don't run off and find another." he pulled you closer to him, his cock almost touching your slit.

you blushed, "don't worry. every other man just feels.... mediocre compared to you." then tensed up a little when he teased your pussy with his cock.

he felt the tug in his chest at your words. it had been boiling under the surface for so long. to have it out in the open made him feel more alive than ever. but he was careful about having sex with you.

he slowly slotted himself into you, and his hands braced on either side of you once more. you held onto his shoulders once more. being so close to him this way was nothing new. but it still left a flutter in your chest.

you kissed once more, you dug your nails into his back as he started to rock his hips. his pace wasn't painful, he wanted to indulge in the feeling of you. while you both had your fair share of quickies, in the comfort of his nice home, you had all the time in the world,

the sound of your kisses mixed with the small squeaks of the bed. you felt protected in your lover's arms. his kisses felt like lightning in your body, it was a heavenly feeling. only topped off by the pleasure coursing through your body. it felt good, really good.

lewis was a generous lover, that was why he ended up bedding so many before you. you squirmed a little from the heat that pooled in your gut with each of his heavy thrusts.

he savoured you like a fine wine. like dishes served at restaurants on the beach in rich capital cities. he moved against you at an even pace, but even that was making your toes curl.

"please, lewis." you panted as you held onto him. chest to chest.

he rutted against you, his hips rolled in a steady pace. the constant throb between your legs made you pant with want. and he in turn kissed along your jaw. soft lips against your skin.

"you like that don't you?" he asked quietly, "like the feeling of me against you. not the first time and it won't be a last time. not even close." he voice was tinged with affection.

"i love it." you panted, "shit. you always know how to make me feel good." you swallowed back the pleasure as you felt it course through you.

"pretty girl." he purred, "but you know that. we make quite the pair, i have the photos to prove it."

you got flustered under his words as the two of you move against one another. you felt hot all over with the sweat especially down your back, getting caught by the white sheets under you.

lewis' pace started to stagger and he felt the lust course through him. he quickly finished, his cum was pushed as far as it could get. the thought made him shudder, it aroused his greatly. he panted heavily, but he started to play with your clit as he continued to rut his cock into you. it greatly overstimulated him, but he was determined to make you cum.

you held onto him, your head against his shoulder as you tensed up. you moaned loudly into his heated skin and arched your back a little from the pleasure. you came and almost kicked out your legs from the intensity.

you both relaxed, with lewis pulling you to him as he laid on his side. his nose was against your neck as he started to come down. you two held one another, embraced in your warmth on top of the covers.

"i guess i broke the number one rule of sugar daddies." lewis chuckled a little.

"that's alright. i'm pretty sure it would have happened eventually. the money is nice, but i genuinely care about you."

he pulled away to kiss you on the lips. he said, "good, because i care about you too. now." he held you close to him, chest to chest, "would you like to go again or do you want to get something to eat?"

you replied as you got out of his grasp and straddled his lap. you splayed your hands across his toned chest. you said, "well, i don't think it's much of a choice is it."

he smiled, "that's what i like to hear." <3

[neil-gaiman]

So I’m writing an English research paper on British authors and I chose you (Neil Gaiman) because I love your work (and you’re just awesome in general). My teacher seemed so excited when I told her I could probably get information from your various social media accounts, and potentially get a message back with maybe a random fact about yourself. Can you prove me right by responding? Please and thank you! Have a lovely day!

Hullo, I'm afraid Neil Gaiman doesn't have any social media.

A random fact? I think the best smashed avocado on toast anywhere in the whole world is served at Archie's All Day in Melbourne, Australia. If I could, I would send everyone who has ever sold avocado toast anywhere in the world to Archie's All Day to discover how good it can be and to reflect on how they could improve upon what they provide the world and how good it can be.

[specialagentlokitty]

Remus x Student!reader - a unique bond

Hullo! How are you? I was hoping you could do a platonic!Remus Lupin x student reader? Maybe she's also a werewolf, and so hearing people talking badly about werewolves, and lupin, she gets defensive about it? She grew up with her family having stigma against werewolves, and so having lupin during her last year really helped her (her friends knew, but couldn't really help during the moon itself). Sort of like a father-daughter relationship? - Anon💜

It wasn’t hard for you to notice there was another werewolf on site not long after Lupin had joined, and he immediately knew you were one when you were in his class.

He recognised the scars on you, similar to the ones he had, he saw all the signs and noticed it in the little things that you did.

However at first neither one of you wanted to approach the other and give yourselves away just in case you were wrong, so it was a long first few months of trying to avoid one another, especially on full moons until at one point you had a detention and had gotten out late, struggling to get out the school grounds before you transformed.

Lupin had noticed you hadn’t left at your usually time and had come back for you, quickly grabbing your hand he dragged you after come.

“Quickly now (Y/N).” He whispered.

“Professor Lupin?!” You whisper yelled back.

He glanced back at you before looking ahead, trying to lead you out the school as quickly as possible without being caught.

“Now don’t pretend you don’t already know, I have a feel we’ve both know about each other since I arrived correct?”

You nod a little bit as you jog after him.

Once outside Lupin let go your head, both of you slowly down to a walk as you left the school behind to get to a safe distance before the full moon rose.

“Now it’s not like you to risk it being so close to transforming, what happened?”

“I uh.. I had detention sir, and I was only just able to get out.”

Lupin nodded a little bit, draping his jacket over your shoulders and offering you his hand to help you get down a small ridge.

“I see, is everything alright? I’m aware you don’t go around causing trouble, so why the detention?”

“Oh I forgot my potions homework.”

“Ah not a wise choice given who your professor is.”

You shook your head a little bit, letting go of his hand once you were down the ridge and sat in front of the lake as the final rays of sunset hit the earth and the moon started to rise.

Lupin crouched down next to you, a calm but comforting presence.

He understood how terrifying this could be, especially as a teenager and he would try hold back his own transformation to make sure you were okay.

It became like clockwork after that he would always wait for you, make sure you transformed first, look after you as you were both werewolves.

He would follow you where you went he wasn’t far behind, almost like a protective father would be, and after he would take you back to his office and make you a cup of tea and give you a bar of chocolate.

Your friends knew about you, and as a result found out about Lupin but they were happy to keep his secret and he was happy for them to sneak into his office to check on you after full moons.

Not everybody was happy about Lupin however, and some, mainly Slytherins would make fun of him, whether it was the way he spoke, dressed, his scars.

He didn’t react to them, but you knew it bothered him, especially about his scars but he wouldn’t do anything to them though, not to students.

You however were a different story.

As you were sitting in the quad on your break with your friends reading you could hear the students again.

“He’s just so weird…” one whispered.

“I doubt he’ll last long none of the teachers in the position do, you saw the last ones, they’re all freaks.” Another scoffed.

“Apparently he was a student here.”

“Wonder how he even passed, he’s not that good at anything.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore their comments but it was hard.

You looked up to Lupin, he was like a dad to you, showing you kindness you had never received before.

Seeing someone so kind, somebody who was so willing to help others and protect them just got to you, and without thinking you stood up.

Your friends tried to stop you but it was too late, you were already storming across the quad and you landed a punch on one of the students.

The boy wailed, immediately placing a hand over his nose while the others got their wands out and your friends did the same ready to have your back.

Other students crowded around while some ran to go get help before anything got out of hand.

“What’s your problem freak?!” One of them yelled.

“Don’t talk crap about people!”

“What that stupid Professor? Please he’s nothing compared to us.” She scoffed.

You didn’t even bother pulling out your wand, you just stormed forward, aiming to throw another punch but you were stopped by someone holding your shoulder.

“Now that is quite enough (L/N).” Mcgonagall scolded.

You pulled yourself free and carried on storming forward.

“Enough!” She called out.

Mcgonagall took your shoulder again, giving you a warning look while Snape dealt with the Slytherin students who were laughing.

“Last warning.” She said calmly.

“I don’t care!”

You pulled free once more.

“(L/N).”

That made you pause, turning your angry gaze to Lupin who walked over with his hands raised to show you he meant no harm.

He paused just in front of you.

“Calm yourself now, I imagine you’re already in enough trouble, let’s not make this any worse alright?”

“No! They don’t get to go around saying those things!”

“And they will be punished but there’s no need to make this worse for yourself, now will you come with me?”

As much as you wanted to refuse, to teach them a lesson you could see the slight pleading look in expression and you reluctantly nodded.

Lupin gave you a soft smile, leading the way to his office.

He didn’t need to look back to know that you were following him, he trusted you enough that you would.

Once you were far enough away from everybody he slowed his pace to walk next to you, seeing the furious expression in your face.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

You glanced up at him.

“For defending me, you didn’t have to.”

“They’re wrong about you, about werewolves.”

Lupin smiled at you.

“You’re right, they are, but we can’t change peoples opinions. What matters is we know the truth.”

He opened his door for you, letting you walk in.

He was going to give you a detention of course, but he was also going to take it easy on you knowing you were only trying to do the right thing

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Master post OG post Part 1

“It’s about to go from bad, to worse. Brace yourself.”

~

Dani and Damian spent another minute watching the Agents before Dani felt a tap on her shoulder.

Dani turned, Damian following her lead. They came face to face with a small redhead boy, with green-blue eyes that had an odd cloudy gaze to them.

“Wes.” Dani greeted politely.

Wes nodded, shifting slightly. “Hullo.”

“Wes, this is Damian.” Dani gestured to Damian, who stuck out his hand.

“Good evening.” He greeted coolly. He didn’t like the way Wes’s eyes darted back and forth.

“You’re the turning point.” He whispered, ignoring Damian’s hand.

“Excsuse me?”

“You’re the turning point.”

Dani took a step forward. “Wes, what are you taking about?”

Wes blinked, hard, and the cloudy look in his eye disappeared.

“Sorry, Dani. What did I say?”

Dani and Damian looked at each other. Dani turned back.

“You don’t remember? You called Damian the ‘turning point’.”

Wes frowned. “You don’t know yet?”

“Wes, know what?” Dani’s voice had an edge of panic in it.

“The ecto.” Wes looked around to see if anyone was watching. “It basically contaminated all the kids in the town. Especially the ones in our grade.”

“So everyone is liminal?” Dani whisper in a panic.

“And we have powers. Meet us at the Casper High Football stadium at 11 pm.”

And he was gone, disappearing through the crowd of citizens.

~

Dani and Damian walked to a large house with their suitcases rolling behind them.

The house was neglected, with dirt and buildup on the bricks and stairs. There was a green flickering sign that read-

“FentonWorks Lab.” Damian muttered out loud and Dani shot him a strained smile.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

They were barely on the stoop when the door flung open and a woman with bright red hair wearing a teal sweater that matched her eyes and headband.

“Dani! Thank Ancients you made it!” She said, wrapping Dani into a tight hug

Dani let go of her suitcase and hugged her back just as desperately.

“Hiya Jazz.” she said wetly, before breaking the hug and gesturing to Damian.

“Jazz, this is my brother, Damian. Damian this is my sister, Jazz Fenton.”

Jazz shot Damian a warm smile, offering her hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

Damian shook her hand.

“Likewise.”

“Let’s go inside.” Jazz eyed a GIW agent across the park, who was staring at them in mild curiosity.

Jazz opened the door and let them inn the house.

The house was nicer on the inside, although there was a familiar smell of what Damian thought was Battery Acid.

There was a teenager hunched over the coffee table, tinkering with some wires.

He was about Dukes age, black hair, swimmers body, ice blue eyes.

He looks exactly like Dani, from his posture to the freckle below his right eye.

The only difference he had from Dani was that the left side of Dani’s face and body was covered in lightning scars.

He grinned when he saw Dani and stood up, reaching his full height of 5’7.

“Dani!”

“Danny!”

Damian blinked in confusion.

“How can you have the same name?” He blurted, watching their twin grins grow larger.

“I’m Dani-with-an-i, hes Danny-with-y, duh.”

Danny smiled. “I’m Danny, Dani’s brother.”

“This is Damian. Also my brother.”

Danny furrowed his brow. “You’re going to have to start from the beginning.”

~

“You’re a clone.” Damian said, an empty plate in his hands. “And half ghost.”

Dani shrugged. “I’m mostly human. If I go ghost too often or too long the I’ll melt into goo.”

Damian took a deep breath. “… and is there anyway we can prevent you from… melting?”

Dani shrugged. “Time. If I have enough time to gather enough ecto to feed my core, if won’t destabilize.”

“To be fair, you haven’t had a haunt until now.” Danny points out, and received a small glare from Dani.

“What is a core? And a haunt?”

“A haunt is a ghosts place or city of residence. It can be as small as a house, or a large as a town.” Danny passed him more fudge. “A core is harder to explain, essentially it’s a ghosts entire being. Their soul, the propose of their afterlife. If a ghost damages their core, they become an ambition-less husk. It’s a war crime to take a ghosts core away from them.”

Dani shuddered, and Jazz winced.

“I think that’s enough learning for one day.” Jazz said, taking the plates and Dani stood up to help her. “Damian, are you okay with sleeping in Danny’s room?”

Damian nodded. “I have one more question.”

The three of them looked at Damian curiously.

“What’s your last question?” Dani asked, taking a seat once more.

“What is the GIW?”

~

[suempu]

hullo,, i love your kabru fics sm! i was wondering if you could write kabru with a s/o who is pretty shy with initiating affection and stuff. like they get nervous about it and shy when being affectionate, but they still crave touch and attention.

thank you sm!!

established relationship + sfw

masterlist <3

kabru would be the best character for someone with a personality like that imo

he can read you like a book and guess what you’re feeling based on your expression. he’s right with his intuition 80% of the time, especially if you’ve been together for a while.

the first time he’s ever observed your need for touch was on a random night out in town. he was walking you home after finishing up a tavern meal with the party when he couldn’t help but take note of your twitching fingers.

kabru feigned non the wiser, but the cute determined pout on your face was doing so much damage to his heart. he noticed that your pinky would inch closer and closer to his hand before retreating begrudgingly, eventually making you release a sigh. taking a hint of what you wanted, he decided to make the first move.

“can i hold your hand?” kabru smiles, watching in amusement as you stammer out a small “y—yeah…”

its been getting easier for him to figure out when you wanted to touch him as time goes on. there are telltale signs and gestures you make whenever you’re in need; like playing with your fingers, unconsciously reaching out for a hug, or just mindlessly staring at the back of his head in longing.

needless to say, he can sense it. doesn’t matter if he’s busy talking to other people or not, he can feel your desperation from your body language alone before deciding to intertwine your fingers together or pull you close by the shoulders.

and the way you preen and basically glow whenever he touches you makes him smile, although he does wonder why you just won’t ask him or initiate it first. even though you’re shy, he figured that you’d be comfortable enough with asking him, its not like you’ve just started dating, but he’s patient with you anyways.

“are you scared of me?” kabru tilts his head, a playful smile on his face.

you shot up to look at him, “what? no-!”

“then why won’t you touch me? my arms are pretty lonely without you in them.”

he can see your brain rolling around in your head as you gape at him, speechless. he almost feels bad for teasing you. almost.

kabru places his palms on your cheeks, squishing them together as he snickers. “you can just touch me, y’know?”

“w-whaff?” trying to speak through pouty lips.

sighing before he nuzzles his nose into yours with a knowing smile. “i’m just saying, you don’t have to be so nervous about touching me.”

after that, he deprives you of hand holding, hugs, and kisses, wanting to see you try and initiate things.

it kind of works.

you’ve taken to tugging on his shirt whenever you wanted to hold him or whispering in his ear that you’d like to be cuddled. its a small step, but he thinks its absolutely adorable.

[solarmorrigan]

hallo! I saw the angsty prompt list thing, and the “don’t trust me.” One kind of stood out to me. You don’t have to write it, but you’re one of my favorite writers on here so I thought it might be cool :)

Hullo! So I did fill this prompt once already, but I'd had a bunch of ideas for it and I was in the mood for something a little softer, so I did another! Thanks for giving me the opening to write it (and for the compliment, you're so kind?? 😭)

[General warning for mention of Steve's shitty parents and their generally shitty parenting technique]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

“Why am I the one doing this?” Steve grouses, straining slightly as he struggles with the full box on the top shelf. “Instead of, y’know, you?”

“You’re stronger than me,” Eddie replies readily.

“Bullshit, I’ve seen you lugging amps and shit around during your shows,” Steve shoots back, grumbling as he works the box free from the high shelf.

“You got me.” Eddie grins, though Steve’s back is turned to him. “I just like watching you work, sweetheart.”

From the depths of the storage closet, Steve gives an audible snort of laughter, but he also stops arguing. Then, with a little noise of triumph, Steve finally manages to tug the box free, holding it aloft long enough to back out of the closet and then heaving it down onto the floor, where it lands in a clatter of plastic and jingling bells.

“Excellent.” Eddie falls upon the box, rubbing his hands together in anticipation before tugging at the tucked flaps. “There’s one more box, would you mind? It’s on the floor; long rectangle.”

“You said there was one box,” Steve says, eyes narrowed.

“Whoops, miscounted,” Eddie says breezily, smiling up at Steve with as much innocence as he can muster. “You know how bad I am at all that academic shit.”

“Says the guy who plays a math game for fun,” Steve drawls.

For the sake of time, Eddie leaves the bait where it is, instead batting his eyelashes up at Steve. “Pretty please, pretty boy? It’s definitely the last one.”

Steve holds out for exactly five more seconds before retreating into the closet with a roll of his eyes. “If you suddenly remember one more after this, I’m suddenly gonna remember something I have to do back at my house and leave you to do all the decorating on your own,” he calls back, muffled from behind the coats Eddie can hear him shoving aside to find the last box.

Eddie’s at least eighty percent sure he’s bluffing, but it’s no matter – he hadn’t been lying. Most of what he needs is in the box in front of him: strands of garland, wrapped tangles of lights, and the same ugly pinecone wreath with the world’s most annoying string of jingle bells attached that Wayne’s been hanging since Eddie was a kid. Everything else—the ornaments, more lights, and, of course, the tree—is in the hefty, rectangular box Steve is currently hauling out into the entryway.

Normally, Wayne would be there to help, but his and Eddie’s work schedules have fallen out of sync in the hectic holiday rush of extra shifts; if one has the day off, the other is too tired by the time they get home to entertain anything as energy-consuming as getting up on a ladder to hang lights. Eddie and Steve, however (somehow; miraculously), share at least one day off a week, which has seen Steve recruited as Eddie’s backup decorating partner.

“That it?” Steve breathes as releases the box and stands straight, tugging his sweater down from where it’s ridden up (Eddie can’t believe he’s dating someone who unironically wears ugly Christmas sweaters. He can’t believe Steve makes them look good).

“That’s it,” Eddie promises. He plucks two balled-up strings of lights from the box in front of him and stands up, one under each arm. “So here’s what I’m thinking: I’ll get started on the outside, while you,” Eddie puts a boot to the tree box and shoves it towards Steve with a grunt; even across the laminate flooring it doesn’t slide easy, practically cocooned in layers of packing tape from so many years of opening and resealing, “get the tree going.”

Already halfway wrapped up in how he’s going to string the lights (he’d always loved decorating the outside of the trailer, and now he gets to figure out a new configuration for the tiny porch on his and Wayne’s equally tiny new house; it ain’t much, as they say, but it’s home – or, at least, it’s starting to feel like it), Eddie nearly misses the look of confusion that crosses Steve’s face.

“Uh… how do you want it set up?” Steve asks.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “Stand goes on the floor, pointy end goes up. I have faith in you, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes again, but with his frown in place he looks like he might actually be irritated. “I mean, you have to tell me how you want it, like, decorated and shit. Where it’s supposed to go, that sort of thing.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve decorated a tree before, man,” Eddie says. “I know I saw one at your house last time I was there.”

“Yeah, but that’s my house. This is yours. You have to tell me how you want it,” Steve says.

Once again for the sake of time, Eddie leaves the obvious opening for a joke where it lies. “Steve, it’s – y’know, lights, garland, ornaments, it’s not rocket science. I trust you to do a good job.”

“No, don’t trust me, just tell me how you want it decorated,” Steve insists. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to do it wrong.”

“It’s… a Christmas tree, sweetheart,” Eddie says slowly. “You can’t do it wrong.”

“Oh, I assure you, I can,” Steve says with a laugh. “Seriously, like – people are super particular about how their trees are set up, I think. My mom always has been. I remember when I was, like, ten, she and my dad had been away for a while, and we were coming up on Christmas pretty fast, and none of the decorations were up, so I figured I’d at least put the tree up. Surprise them when they got home, right? Except my mom lost her shit when they got home and saw it.”

“Noooot in a good way, I take it,” Eddie hazards.

“Nah, I did it all wrong. The tinsel wasn’t spread out right, and there’s only supposed to be a certain number of ornaments on each branch, and she wanted the angel on top, not the star, so she made me take the whole thing down.” Steve shrugs. “So, seriously, even if you don’t think you have a certain way you want it done, I’ll probably manage to find the exact way you don’t want it, so you should just tell me.”

“Steve, I promise, that tree is, like, older than I am; you can’t make it worse. As long as you don’t set it on fire, I’ll be happy with it,” Eddie says.

“That’s not–” Steve cuts himself off, running one hand through his hair with a strained little laugh. “I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me how you want it done.”

Eddie shakes his head, dropping the bundles of lights back into their box; he hates when this happens – hates when he stumbles over some mundane thing that Steve’s parents have fucked up for him that Eddie only manages to poke like a kid with a sharp stick at a beehive because he didn’t even realize it could be an issue. Who the fuck gives their kid a complex over how the Christmas tree is decorated? Who does that?

(Then again, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about more than just their expectations for the tree.)

“Okay, I need you to listen to me,” Eddie says, voice firm but hands gentle as he reaches for Steve’s own. “I swear I’m not trying to set you up for failure. I’m really not. The tree isn’t supposed to look perfect. It’s supposed to be kinda crooked and covered in dumb ornaments you can’t even remember the stories behind and only have, like, half a string of popcorn around it because you ate most of it when your uncle wasn’t looking and didn’t leave enough for the tree.”

Steve stares at him, brows furrowed, like he’s trying to piece what Eddie’s telling him into what he already knows about the world, like he needs both things to be true, even though they don’t fit together.

“Actually…” Eddie says slowly, deciding that it may be best to change tack, “come to think of it, there’s one thing about decorating the tree that I should’ve told you. Most important thing, really. Can’t believe I forgot.”

“What?” Steve asks, halfway between wary and eager for the instruction.

“You’re supposed to do it together. That’s what makes it good.” Eddie lets go of one of Steve’s hands to smack the heel of his own to the side of his forehead. “Duh. Silly me.”

Steve shakes his head, letting it hang forward with a little huff of a laugh as some of the tension leeches from his shoulders. “You’re such a dork, do you know that?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums, grabbing Steve by the front of that stupid, ugly sweater (it has reindeer on it, how does it not look awful on him?) and pulling him up for a quick kiss. “So how about you help me do the outside lights, and then we’ll come back inside and do the tree together?”

One last flicker of uncertainty crosses Steve’s face. “What about Wayne?”

A flutter of fondness rolls through Eddie’s chest, the same as it always does when Steve doesn’t just consider Eddie, but the things and people important to him. “His favorite part is stringing the popcorn. We can do that when he gets home.”

“Oh.” Steve nods, as though he is considering this very seriously, then smirks at Eddie. “Should we make some to eat before he gets back, so you leave enough for the tree?”

Eddie smacks him on the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Alright, Harrington, just for that, you’re the one untangling the lights.”

“What, like it’s a punishment?” Steve asks. “I’m great at untangling Christmas lights.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie presses a hand to his heart and pretends to swoon over the box of decorations, “when you say things like that, it makes me want to keep you forever.”

And Steve’s answering grin at that is far brighter than anything they’re going to decorate with today, Eddie is certain.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry wants it known that he’s at the ministry’s Yule gala under duress. It was all he could do to force himself into his dress robes and make himself presentable; he can’t fathom where he’ll find the energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

People he barely knows keep coming up to him – as they always do – to shake his hand, chat with him about this and that, thank him for his role in defeating the dark lord. (Still. He really wishes they’d stop doing that. It’s been more than six years now.)

And then there are pockets of people, staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Another constant in his public appearances, though he imagines the content of their conversations is at least a little different from usual, if not the tone. 

He’s just escaped another fan and is looking to make a beeline for the bar when it happens. Harry sees his doom approaching from several metres away but, since they saw him first and he (stupidly) refuses to run away, he stands there like an idiot, wishing he were anywhere else.

“Hi Harry,” Ginny says. It looks like she wants to hug him or get close, and his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. Thankfully, she stays where she is.

“Hullo Ginny,” he replies and, without looking at the man, utters a terse, “Malfoy.”

The smug arse smirks at him. “Potter.”

“How’ve you been?” Ginny asks, which. Rude. If she actually cared about that, she wouldn’t have cheated on him with the git on her arm, but whatever. 

“Oh, fine. Y’know, keeping busy.” God, he hates small talk.

Before he can respond with the requisite, ‘And you?’, Malfoy jumps in. “Yes, I suppose you have been, from what I’ve heard.”

Ugh. Fucking Malfoy. Harry wishes he had a drink or seven. He can’t believe he’d rather be caught in another conversation with that weirdo from earlier about his wand-care habits, of all things.

Ginny gently elbows Malfoy in the side with a chiding, “Draco.”

He’s considering the merits of letting himself be ripped apart by the anti-apparition wards to get away from this conversation – splinching himself can’t be much more painful than this – when a hand bearing a very welcome drink appears in front of him. That’ll do for now, though splinching is still on the table. Especially when he follows the hand to the arm up to the face and of course it’s Ri– Tom.

Harry gives him the side-eye, but accepts the drink. “Thanks.”

Tom leans in slightly, just enough so the two in front of them can’t read his lips. “You looked like you might be in need of a rescue.”

And as he pulls back out of Harry’s personal space, he rests a hand low on Harry’s back. Harry tenses for a moment before just accepting that tonight is all about him being as uncomfortable as possible. He takes a gulp of his drink – something dark and spicy. It burns pleasantly.

When he starts paying attention again, he finds Ginny looking at Tom with surprise; Malfoy is looking at the other man with – is that a hint of fear? And Tom is staring them both down, but somehow managing to do it with a veneer of politeness. 

“Good evening, Draco,” he says pleasantly. “Ginevra.”

“Riddle.” Malfoy’s greeting is stiff, as is the awkward, aborted bow he gives. Hmm.

“And Harry,” Tom says, turning to look at him fondly. “So good to see you again.”

Hoo boy.

“You,” Harry murmurs from behind the rim of his drink. “Are not subtle.”

Tom takes the opportunity to slide his hand further around Harry’s back, lightly gripping his hip and pulling him closer up against Tom’s side. He returns Harry’s withering look with an undaunted smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“When did you two get so cosy?” Ginny cuts in. Her tone is playful, but there’s more than offhand curiosity lurking beneath.

“Uh.” Shite, he doesn’t ever want Ginny to find out how this started, but especially not in public. Who knows who’s listening in or watching. “We ran into each other by chance a month and a half ago” –actually, he’s how I found out you were fucking Malfoy behind my back– “and we’ve met up a few times since then. It’s nice to have someone… uninvolved to talk to.”

Tom looks amused at that. He’s definitely involved in the demise of Harry’s relationship, and if there’s one thing they haven’t been doing (but probably should), it’s talking.

“I’ve been helping him expand his horizons,” Tom says without apparent innuendo, yet somehow the layered meaning is still obvious. Prat. “Getting him to try new things, keeping him busy.”

“You and half the town,” Malfoy mutters under his breath.

“I see…” Ginny says over him. “Funny how that escaped the rumour mill.” 

Harry laughs awkwardly, wishing for a stray lightning bolt to strike and put him out of his misery. “Must not’ve been exciting enough.”

The conversation dies for long enough to become uncomfortable - well, even more so. Malfoy touches Ginny’s elbow and leans down to speak into her ear. Harry seizes their distraction to turn on Tom.

“Are you sure you don’t want to piss on me to mark your territory while you’re at it?” he asks dryly.

Tom wrinkles his nose delicately in disgust. “No need to be crude. Though…” He gives Harry a considering once-over. “I’m not at all opposed to the idea of you carrying my mark. How do you feel about tattoos?”

Harry snorts. “Not a chance.”

The other man tucks his face in close to Harry’s, breath hot against the skin beneath his ear. “What about bruises?”

As though he doesn’t regularly leave an abundance of those on Harry anyway, what with his penchant for treating Harry like a chew toy. Harry shivers all the same, just a little bit. He can feel the barest brush of Tom’s grin against his neck.

Ginny clears her throat pointedly.

“Good to know,” Tom breathes as he pulls back.

Ginny continues trying to talk to him while Malfoy makes the odd snide comment, Tom attempts to meld into Harry’s side while replying for him and being subtly insulting, and Harry tries to become one with the floor. He realises he’s missed a question when he breaks out of his daze to find both Tom and Ginny are watching him expectantly.

“Huh?”

Ginny starts to say something when Tom cuts her off. "Care to dance?"

If looks could kill, Tom would be in a bad way with how Ginny’s glaring at him. "Harry doesn't dance," she says tetchily. Tom doesn't bother with her, waiting for Harry's wary nod.

He looks back at Ginny smugly. "Perhaps yet another new thing to which I can introduce him.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Harry says, grabbing Tom’s wrist and dragging him towards the dance floor. Best to get this over with, and all the better if it means he doesn’t have to speak with anyone else in the meantime.

"She's not wrong," he mutters once they don't have to fear being overheard. "I don't dance.”

"Just follow my lead," Tom replies easily. “Would it be correct to say you don’t particularly care about stepping on my toes?”

Harry stares at him blankly for a moment before he feels a reluctant smile appear on his face. “It might be the one redeeming part of this.”

“The only one?” Tom says archly, pulling him into the correct hold. And, without giving Harry a chance to breathe or think, they’re off in what Harry thinks might be a waltz. 

"That was quite the risk you took," Harry says, trying not to stare at his feet and hoping for the best as Tom spins him around the room. He is, oddly enough, a much better dancer when he’s not constantly concerned about crushing someone's foot.

"Was it?"

"Yes. What made you think I wouldn't refuse and let you look foolish?"

He catches sight of a pleased grin on Tom's face from the corner of his eye. "The same thing that made me ask you to dance when I've seen your previous forays. You rise to the occasion when I push you.” He looks at Harry, for a moment, proudly. “I also knew you’d be more than amenable to anything that got you away from those two.”

Harry can’t deny that.

“Now look sharp, and do try to keep up,” Tom says, the hand at Harry’s lower back gripping him a little tighter.

“Wha–?” 

And it’s all he can do not to trip over his feet and take them both down in a painful sprawl, but the rush, the heady triumph of making it through the successive, intricate turns, goes straight to his head. Before he can stop himself, Harry lets out a loud peal of laughter, further disrupting the couples around them and drawing sneers and disapproving glances. And he just doesn’t care. Not that he thinks he normally would’ve, but it feels like it’s been ages since he’s felt so light and happy. So, he doesn’t think about the people around him. He doesn’t think about how it’s Tom who’s making him feel this way. He just basks in the sun-warm feeling of contentment – of being okay for the first time in a while.

(One night)

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(a romantic interaction with silver please!) i was nervous, to say the least. even if it had been years since we've graduated from nrc, that shy and awkward sixteen year old girl i once was had become an even more socially inept adult, much to my chagrin.

it had been years since we last saw each other, and lilia just so happened to tip silver off regarding my whereabouts in the forest. finding me wasn't very difficult, as i was singing a very familiar melody, one that had an assortment of woodland critters as an audience. i paused, being able to sense his presence nearby.

and i smiled. "it's been some time, hasn't it?" i say softly, motioning for a dismayed silver to join with an outstretched hand, hoping he wouldn't notice the sound of my pounding heart and that he'd accept the gesture.

(also hullo miss raven! i hope you've been doing well ^^)

xhsbsjskal I’m not sure if I understood why Silver is dismayed?? I wasn’t able to find a smooth way to incorporate that into this interaction since there wasn’t a ton of context given 💦 Apologies!!

What comes after Ever After?

Silver is a spitting image of the Dawn Knight, but with hair the color of his namesake rather than the spun gold of his biological father. The shining tresses are long, almost forming a cloak over his pitch black armor. The metal plates are sleek and spiked, weaving an outfit most menacing—but his uncovered face is the complete opposite.

The pert mouth of a prince, wispy lashes cast over multicolor irises, the bridge of his nose as straight as his morals. So gentle, so graceful. The face of the boy you had crushed on all those years back, the face of the man you had longed to reunite with.

Your pulse picks up in pace, your mouth drying. The song on your lips has long since gone out, and you don’t think you can start it again anytime soon.

He’s standing there. Oh, Sevens. He’s standing right there…!!

“It has,” Silvers says in a whisper—and in the quiet of the forest, it feels louder than it should be.

He peels away from the trunk he was leaning against and enters the clearing. The animals ringing you—deer, squirrels, birds, skunks, bunnies—shift, making space for Silver. His strides remind you of a noble gliding across a polished ballroom floor. The woodland critters, a crowd dispersing to make way for the guest of honor.

Then, magically, Silver bends the knee and kneels, meeting your gaze as he takes your hand in his. He offers that same small, subtle smile that had made your cheeks flush and your heart flutter. It still does, much to your dismay. You pray he doesn’t notice, and, thankfully, he doesn’t seem to.

Bless his obliviousness.

“I’m glad I got to see you again.”

Me too, you want to say, but the words bunch up like a wad of paper being crumpled. They refuse to come out, so instead you simply nod.

Your fingers find the back of a rabbit and sink into its plush fur. Stroking it manages to calm you for a few fleeting moments. The rabbit thumps a foot, either excited about the attention or in an attempt to encourage you.

“Father told me I would find you here.” Silver inclines his head slightly. “You never did like crowded places.”

“I like the company of the animals,” you mutter. It’s easier than dealing with people sometimes, you silently add. More comforting.

“I do too.” A plump bluebird has landed on Silver’s shoulder. It busies itself with prodding his chin with its beak. He chuckles, acting as if the touch tickles. “Even if we may not completely understand what they’re saying… they can communicate with us in their own ways. Words are not necessary to express yourself. I think you once sang a song about this. How did it go again…?”

“Ah, the one that goes…” You cleared your throat, then hummed a tune. It was floaty, whimsical—like two feet entangled in a jig. “Dancing is a language that is felt instead of heard. You can whisper and shout without so much as a word, like so 🎵”

“That’s the one.” His smile is a little wider now, more cocked to one side than the other. “You still sing just as much as you did before too. And you look so happy doing it.”

“D-Do I…?”

I think I’m happiest when I’m with you. The warmth unfurling in your chest and the tingling where your hands lock agree. But to say it out loud, to expose those raw feelings to him after so long…

“Yes.” He says it with such clarity, such certainty, like he’s swearing a vow. “I like listening to it. Maybe because it’s been so long since I’ve heard you. Would you mind if I asked to hear more? Only if you’d be willing to provide, of course. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Y-You’re not!!” you insist. Shock has your eyes flayed wide open. “I-I’m surprised you’d want me to… I mean, I’m not anything special—”

“Please,” he pleads, pressing the back of your hand to his cheek. It is springy and soft, like the petal of a pale rose. “Sing for me. Let me hear your truest feelings. I've missed that."

You splayed a hesitant hand over your throat, fingers fanning out. Anxious as you gazed out at your waiting, expectant audience. The animals that had gathered, the knight at your level.

Silver.

The drop of sunshine in your chest becomes a fully bloomed flower. Buttery yellow and bursting with hope. Banishing the darkness, chasing doubt into a corner for another day. Making space for confidence.

You take a deep, shaky breath.

And you do.

You sing.

For the forest, for its residents, for him. And every note is golden and lined in silver.

[ramp-it-up]

The Gentleman Returns

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Veterinarian!Reader

Summary: Henry comes back. Can he keep his composure around you?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. P orn with just a little bit of plot. Read at your own risk.  Flashbacks, Facetime s ex, long distance romance, Angst, pining, flirting, arguing, reader insecurity, wagering, brat behavior, dirty talk, size kink, or al s ex, raw p in v (wrap before you tap),  b reeding kink, pain kink, m asturbation,o ral sex (f recieving) Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is part two of Doctor and Mr. Cavill. Let me know if you liked it!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“I am in control. I am not a man possessed. I am not an animal.”

Henry repeated it to himself as he prepared for his morning cardio run down, which just happened to be 3.5 miles down Route 60 to your house. He decided that running would serve two purposes: One, to round out his morning exercise, and two, to calm him down. 

It had been a long two weeks away. 

You were constantly on Henry’s mind and it took all of his acting skills to attend to the matters that took him home to Great Britain. But he was finally back in your town, which happened to be the location of his latest film role, and he was focused on letting you know that he didn’t think of you as just a good time in America. 

Henry knew that you thought he just wanted to have his way with you. The truth was that he felt for you deeply, and he didn’t quite know how to tell you. Things had gone much farther and faster than he ever imagined they would.

That’s why Henry was determined to be a gentleman today.

He’d stop by and say hello, collect Kal, ask you out on a date, and leave you intact like the lady you are. And then, maybe later, perhaps…. His heart rate escalated as he decided that he wouldn’t just grab you and take you up to your bed and fuck your brains out. 

No.

Absolutely not. 

Henry shook his head and smiled as he started the 5K run to your house. 

He’d landed the night before, and you both agreed that he needed to rest before he was in charge of Kal again. He slept, and then bounded out at 5 am the next morning to train and also to tame the boner that he’d awakened with for the past fortnight.

Henry’s head was in the clouds and he barely registered any exertion on the road to your place; he just daydreamed about led him to this point.

-------

Two weeks earlier...

Good morning Doctor. How are you?

The text was sent at 7:43 am, as soon as he touched down at JFK. Henry found that he had no qualms about looking desperate for you, because he actually was. 

Henry was surprised when you responded so promptly this early in the morning, but he was pleased.

Good morning Mr. Cavill. I’m a little sore. Fed the animals and am now taking a nice, hot bath.

Henry was concerned as he shouldered his backpack and walked down the jet bridge to the car area for his service. He was stopped for an autograph by someone who recognized him despite his baseball cap and mask, and as such, he didn't have time to really think when he responded.

Oh no! Did you lift too much feed? You really must lift heavy weights properly.

Henry’s brow was furrowed as he thought of you injured. You chuckled at Henry’s cluelessness. 

You’re carrying the weight that did the damage.

It took a second for the lightbulb to go off in Henry’s head, and when it did, he groaned, remembering how tight you’d been around him, but then he frowned again. He dialed you as soon as he was in the SUV with the door closed. 

You stared at your phone, not believing that he was facetiming you. After hesitating for just a moment, you answered.

“Hello?”

Henry peered at you through the screen then smiled, bringing the sun into your world.

“Hullo.”

You smiled back and bit your lip and Henry watched your mouth turn into a little pout. Damn, he was a goner. 

“Are you okay?”

His voice was laced with a sexy tone that sent a tingle down your spine. You could swear that your title had now become a term of endearment instead of a joke. Your head was spinning with desire, need and a little uncertainty. 

“I am perfectly fine.”

You certainly looked fit, Henry thought. And then he spied the bruise on your lip.

“What happened to your mouth?”

Henry looked angry, and your heart beat faster, thinking of how attractive he was when the dark clouds entered his eyes.

“… I split my lip when I… “ 

You looked down, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks. What came next out of your mouth was a low and husky, but perfectly clear, whisper.

“I split my lip on you.”

Even in the bath, you grew moist at the memory of trying to accommodate Henry’s girth the night before. The slight pain of your bruised lip was forgotten the night before when you’d looked up at him through your lashes. 

Henry’s barely perceptible moan brought you back into the moment and made you rub your thighs together under the water. He took you in, an alluring vision all slippery and wet and beautiful. If he could actually fly like Superman back to your side, he would.

“Dear God. Do you know what you do to me?”

Henry intoned it deeply as he rubbed his jaw and licked his lips. 

“No, I don’t know, Mr. Cavill. Tell me?”

Henry let out a dark chuckle, double checking that the privacy partition was up in the car even though he had his airpods in.

“You’re an enchantress. I cant resist your allure, my dear Doctor, you’re captivating and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left.”

He watched you blush and had an idea. 

“I have to get out of this car soon, and I’ll have to make it to my room to take care of this evidence of your affect on me…” 

He panned down to his lap.

“Don’t…please.”

Henry's hand stilled on the ridge of his denimed dick. You’d commanded him with a whisper. He growled your name deep in his throat and you visibly shivered.

“I mean. It’s not for me to decide, but, if you were looking forward to us participating in activities like we did last night again…I’d rather you not…spill anything without me there to collect it. That is, if you could wait that long to cum again. To cum.. inside… me again..”

When you looked up at him again, you saw Henry’s eyes dilate as he bit his lip thinking of your wet heat. His cock jumped as debased images of what he wanted to do to you flooded his brain. He cleared his throat and his eyebrow rose as he bared his teeth in a feral smile to speak to you, his deep bass rumbling through you.

“You want me to save my seed to fill you up with, hmmm?”

You nodded, biting your lip, and your half closed eyes and whimpers only made him harder. He moved his hands to the leather seat of the suv, as he listened to the water moving around you as your free hand floated to your thigh. 

“How about I come back with my balls heavy with cum to pump you full of and let drip out of your pores. Could you handle that?”

You squirmed, your face full of desire. Henry felt like a man starved for your touch although he just left you not 4 hours earlier.

“Mmmmmm... I’d like that. Very, very much.”

Henry watched you throw your head back and licked his lips,trying to find the taste of you from last night.

“D’you need to be fucked again, Doctor?”

He was speaking softly, but resolutely now, his dulcet tones making you feel some kind of way.

“Ohhh, Henry… I’m still a little sore and swollen.”

Henry bit his lip. He didn’t want you to be discomforted, but the idea that he’d ruined you made him mad with need. He was panting as if he’d played a full rugby match and he was ready to burst inside his pants. 

“Are you? I should be there, to kiss that sweet little cunt. Soothe all her sore places with my tongue. D’you need that?” 

Henry stopped himself from calling you Love, but the pet name reverberated in his brain as he watched your beautiful face full of want for him.

“Yes Henry. Oh my goddd!”

You brought your hand up to your neck and Henry wished it was his.

“Lemme see those nipples, play with them for me, yeah?” 

You did as you were told and Henry watched as you filled your hands with yourself. He nearly cried at the sight. He instinctively rubbed his cock again, but he could control himself.

Couldn’t he?

With you he was not so sure, but there was no going back now, he had to see you through to your end.

“Feel that pussy for me, let her know how much I miss her already. Get in there, Love. Let me hear how much she aches for me.”

He’d let it slip. And he didn’t care. You didn't either. He could call you anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop talking you through this need. 

“Oh… Hen-ry…”

Your mouth opened wider and your head was thrown back as your hands ventured further down your body.

“Are you circling that plucky little bud for me?”

“Y-yessssss.”

The stutter and the look on your face made him even bolder. Henry clenched his jaw and his fists to keep control.

“I’m not far from the hotel. Give me one before I get there. Be a good girl for me…you were so good last night…took my cock so well, although I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not…hurt so good Henry…”

Henry kept his eyes on you as you licked your lips and keened. You had him sweating 1500 miles away. 

“I wanted to fill you up and watch it drip out of you…”

“F-f-fuck…!” 

You were panting like a wild animal, and Henry swallowed the whine that was lodged in his throat with a growl. 

“Now stuff three of your pretty little fingers in that pretty little plump cunt. Cum for me. Give me something to dream about.”

You heard his fierce whisper and your eyes rolled as you tried to catch your breath. 

“H-h-henryyyy!”

Henry experienced three things: your beautiful face as you screamed with pleasure, his cock raging hard in the confines of his jeans, and his heart beating a mile a minute in his ears. Henry cursed under his breath and reached for the cold bottle of water provided by the car service. He took a swig, then closed it and put it on his forehead. 

Henry tried to collect himself as he listened to your breathing settle and watched you open your eyes slowly and smile shyly at him.

“Such a good girl for me. You alright?”

You hummed. 

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned. Maybe he had tamed the brat a little.

“Now. No more orgasms until I return.”

Henry the Dom was in full force. How was this your life? All you could do was smile at the fortune of having one of the sexiest men in the world lavish this attention on you. You decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Right.”

Henry cocked his brow at you. He hoped he looked hard. Because inside….Well, inside, he was all mush for you.

“What was that?”

“I mean, No Sir.”

Henry wanted to say a lot, but he needed to get on with his day; his first interview was in less than two hours.

“We will talk later, Doctor, before I board the redeye for London..”

“Of course, Mr. Cavill. Sir.”

Henry threw you a look as you winked and ended the call. He sighed and stepped out of the car, head full of you as he headed to the penthouse.

You climbed out of the bath and fell back into bed naked, dreaming of Henry in your arms.

—--

Three days later….

The picture you’d sent made Henry wild.  

It was an innocent picture of Kal, his snout resting on your bare thigh. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

“That rake. Trying to steal my girl,” he murmured to himself as he grinned at his phone.

“What’s that Hen?”

Henry looked up at the two men who were smirking at him over their brandies. Henry looked from Corey to Jamie’s face. He hadn’t heard a word they’d said.

“What?”

“You’ve not stared down at your lap and smiled like that since Year 7.” 

Corey knew Henry better than almost anyone.

“Who is it?”

Jamie was curious what had his mate so distracted. Henry’s head was in the clouds in between press for their movie that was being released, he was working out every spare minute, and he wasn’t looking at any of the lovely ladies that threw themselves at him, not even a little. 

Henry’s face lit up.

“I don’t even know where to begin. She’s… she’s amazing…”

Henry commenced to waxing poetic about you. 

When he finally took a breath, Corey asked, “Yeah, yeah.. But how does she look, lad?”

Henry grinned and flipped through the pictures that you’d sent him on request. He found one that was relatively tame, with you sitting ensconced in his sweatshirt and nothing else. All you could see was your freshly washed face, that smile, and those legs.

Corey whistled.

“There’s a looker!” 

He passed the phone to Jamie who looked at you and then up at Henry, who was beaming.

“That’s why you’ve been hitting the gym harder than usual. Working off that tension.”

Henry grinned.

“Yeah, she’s going to get it when I get back.”

Corey was quick to catch him.

“He’s saving himself? Oh shit. This is serious. When’s the wedding?”

Henry blanched.

“What?...No… we only just…”

“Henry. Did you notice the girl with the huge rack who’s walked by our table four times?”

Henry looked around the restaurant.

“Where? No…”

“She’s right there!”

Henry looked in the direction that Corey pointed.

“Her?” Henry laughed. “She’s… passable.”

Corey looked at Jamie and shook his head.

“You’re right, James. He’s gone. Raise a glass.”

Henry shook his head as Corey and James toasted and took a mockingly somber drink, then he clinked his own.

“Here’s to My Dear Doctor.”

“If she can tie you down, then cheers to Dr. Y/N!”

Henry shared a laugh with his friends.

“Now who wants to go on a run in the morning?”

—

Later that night:

Although it was after midnight for Henry, it was only after 7 where you were. But your insecurity permeated your conversation with him that night. You went on about his dating history and he railed against online gossip mongers. Finally, you said what you were really thinking.

“I am so not your type, Henry.”

Henry sighed.

“What are you on about?”

I’m a convenience while you’re in town. And you still think you want me because we’re practically sexting every moment of the day. I bet that if we didn’t talk until you had to come back, you’d forget all about me. You’ll find some beautiful English rose…”

“How much?”

“Hunh?” You were being thrown off of your rant.

“How much do you want to bet?”

“Henry….”

“We’ve got, what, 10 more days? 100 quid.”

You couldn’t believe him.

“You’re trying to make light of this. Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset Henry.”

“So you’re chicken?”

“I am NOT!” You huffed. “What is a ‘quid’? A pound? You’re betting me a hundred pounds?”

“I forgot how poor the dollar is. I’ll take it easy on you. 100 dollars US.”

“You have a deal Mr. Cavill.”

Henry grinned on the other end of the line. Your brat side would work to his advantage this time.

“Deal. No more phone calls. Just two texts a day. Good morning and good night.”

You were quiet a long time. Then you decided, if it was going to end, you should just go ahead and end it.

“Okay. Goodbye Henry.”

“See you soon, Doctor.”

—-----

Ten days after that conversation, you were feeding the sheep when Kal started barking and going crazy at the fence. You approached it and looked down the road to see Henry running toward you at an impressive pace.

Butterflies began to flutter in your belly. The last 10 days had sent you spiraling. Two texts a day were not enough. You missed Henry horribly, and you’d imagined him diddling half of Europe since you practically told him to. Well, you only had yourself to blame. You’d ruined a good thing, even if it were temporary.

You didn’t want to face him, but you had to give him his dog. You didn’t have much time prepare yourself because Henry’s time was good. He ran up and leaned on the fence as he greeted Kal. Then he looked up at you, hypnotizing you with those eyes and that smile of his. 

Damn, you’d missed his face.

Henry was unequivocally a goner. The sight of you made him light headed, the erratic nature of his heart not a good combination with the increase from running.

“Hello, Doctor. How are you?”

Henry smiling at you made you warm. It felt like you’d never been asked that question before and you wanted to tell him your life story, but you just said, “Fine. And you Mr. Cavill?”

Henry grinned at the formalities. You were still his incorrigible brat that he’d left in bed two weeks ago. 

His?

Yes, His, he decided as he watched you unlatch the gate enabling Kal’s attack. He laughed and rolled around in the grass with his pup and you watched fondly. You could get used to these two brutes. You tried to walk around them when Kal went after you too, tripping you up and causing you to fall onto Henry, straddling him as Kal barked excitedly beside you two. 

You looked into Henry’s eyes, feeling him beneath you. It wasn’t sexual, not quite, just familiar. Henry was being calm and his hands just rested on your sides as he grinned up at you. You wanted to hug him. But instead, you made to get up.

“S-sorry.”

“No problem at all, Doctor.”

You cleared your throat and stood up, placing your hands on your hips, grimacing at Henry, who was up now himself. His hair was haloed by the early morning sunlight, and he winked at you as he brushed himself off. Damn him and his perfect features.

“D’you want some water?”

Henry regarded you, solemn and intense, when a drop of sweet traveled from his hairline into his right eye. You felt like you were drooling as you watched his biceps flex as he wiped it away.

“You’ve read my mind.”

The timbre of his voice reminded you of that night on facetime, and your pulse quickened at the thought that you had indeed read his mind. You wanted him, and here he was acting like you were just acquaintances. He really had fooled around in Europe. You could have kicked yourself.

You turned and Henry followed you into your house, taking off his shoes and washing his hands as you did. You watched Henry gulp down the water and you kept your distance. Kal seemed content to give you both your space in the kitchen as he laid in the sunlight from the window in the dining room.

“Doctor, we need to talk.”

Your heart dropped. You knew it.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We talked already. You found someone else. Or had some random hookups. Just as I told you you would.”

Henry’s blood was starting to boil. He took a deep breath, but his voice still came out menacing.

“You are the most maddening woman.You don’t get to tell me what I want, or what I did or what I should do. Like you said, we don’t know each other that well. But I thought that we had an understanding, L/N…”

Now you were angry.

“What understanding? How can we have an understanding if we’ve never really talked. We just fucked. You were horny. I was there. We. Just. Fucked. That’s it. It was good. Now it is over.”

“Oh? It’s over is it? I’ve half a mind to turn you over my knee.”

You chucked your chin up at him like you were daring him.

Henry saw the glint in your eye and he knew what had to happen. Gentlemanly thoughts were out the window. He put the glass down and advanced on you.

You moved back and opened your mouth to reply, but what came out was a squeak. You closed it quickly

“That’s right, listen good, little mouse.”

He moved again and you stayed put.

“Yes. We fucked. We fucked and it was amazing. But we fucked because I’m insanely attracted to you in a myriad ways, not just because I wanted to fuck. You were right. I know how to smash and dash, Doctor, and this is not that.”

Henry paused to look into your eyes, to make sure you understood him. 

“I’m in awe of you. You’re a skilled professional, you’re kind, and gentle, and a nerd who loves to have a good time. You soothe me. You make me think and you make me go mad every time I think about how your body seems made for mine.”

You were inches apart, but he didn’t touch you. 

“I’m entirely and utterly smitten with you. And I’m afraid of the power you have over me Doctor. I’m supposed to behave as a gentleman, but you make it impossible.”

Then, he stepped back leaned up against your counter, running his hand through his curls. It was the counter where you first kissed. You smiled at him.

Henry eyed you warily and crossed his arms, showcasing his muscles and veins. You were dangerous. but he was going to be strong.

“What?”

“You mean that you didn’t get with anyone else when you were away?”

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“No. Didn’t want to.”

He stood up straighter as you advanced on him now.

“This perfect specimen of a body?”

You pointed, just shy of touching him. Henry reached back and grabbed the counter to keep from grabbing you. 

You reached out and trailed your hand down his muscle shirt, stopping shy of the waistband of his shorts.

“And you’re willing to wait even longer?”

Henry cleared his throat.

“Yes.”

Henry’s voice broke and he caught your eye. At that moment, you knew your power.

“It’s just for you, Doctor. When you’re ready.”

You scoffed at him. And leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“But this body is for the world, Mr. Cavill. After all, millions drool over it every day.”

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear, and Henry closed his eyes and suppressed a shiver. He gave in and reached for you, grabbing you and pulling your flush to him. He looked down, eyes sparkling.

“Maybe so, but how we feel pressed together is just between me and you.”

You looked into the softness of his eyes and you could tell he was sincere.

“But how can you know?”

“I just know that I know. I want to protect you, I want to comfort you… I want to...”

“Oh, Henry…”

You threw your arms around him and kissed him. He lay claim to your mouth again and after, he rested his forehead on yours, panting.

“I’m… I want to be a gentleman…Want to take you out. Wine…dine…”

You palmed him over his shorts and watched his eyes dilate.

“What if I take you out?”

Henry watched you lick your palm and reach into his sweats as he forgot to breathe.

“I- I …”   Henry looked down at what you were doing. “Careful…’

You looked up at him, determined now.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me and leak out of my pores.”

“Mmmmmmmmmother of god!” 

Henry clenched his jaw as he growled at you. 

“I do want to fuck you very badly, Doctor. But you deserve… to be treated….”

Henry’s voice faded away as you continued to stroke his rock hard length.

“It’s been 14 days. I deserve to be fucked. Hard. Need you ... please… Sir.”

You took his right hand and put it on your breast. He rolled your nipple through your shirt and then mirrored the gesture with his left. Henry had a brief thought that you were trying top him before his brain short circuited.

Before you knew it, you’d been spun around and your face was on the cool marble of your countertop. Henry pulled your leggings down to your ankles. You pulled one leg out and Henry hoisted it up on the counter. You leaned back and desperately grabbed at his curls.

“Please Henry, Give!”

He leaned over and whispered in your ear as his fingertips spread you wide. 

“Trust me Doctor, you will take. But first…”

Henry sank to his knees and whispered to your cunt.

“Been so long. Need to taste…mmmmmmm.”

You were pulled back onto Henry’s face as he buried his mouth into your wet crevasse. He hummed and smacked as if he were eating the best meal of his life. Henry certainly thought so. He destroyed your soul as he alternated fucking you with his tongue and licking you rudely throughout your entire crease.

After you came on his face, he took off your pants completely, and lifted you easily in his arms, walking a few feet to your couch.

Henry set you down face first before him, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re a venus, my dear Doctor.”

Henry’s thick fingers moved from your knee digging into the couch cushions up your thigh to the wetness dripping there. Four fingers found your slick and swiped, while his thumb ghosted your puckered hole.

“Mhmmmmm. Henry…”

“So responsive f’me. Want to be everywhere all at once.”

Henry enjoyed the feeling of his cock slipping in your wetness, the way you moved to try and get him inside you. He moaned knowing how much you wanted him too. His hands moved up from your hips to find your nipples under the top you were wearing and your moves became more wanton. Henry became irritated at the confines of your shirt. He reached for the hem.

“Take this off…There we go.”

He pulled you to him, your cool back against his warm torso, and he trailed his hands up and down your body.

“‘ve wanted my hands on you ever since I left…”

“Me too, Mr. Cavill.”

You’d turned your head to whisper, and Henry’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. You wiggled your ass against the pounding organ that was wedged between your cheeks, and he reached down to grab your hip to still you.

“Want my cock?”

You shook your head.

“No. Need it.”

And with that, you bent down again and looked over your shoulder at him, arching your back.

Henry gazed down at your presented ass and turned his head to the side, admiring, as that eyebrow raised and made you that much wetter.

“Yesss…” His blue eyes met yours. “I believe that you do.”

You whimpered and dropped your head, watching from below as Henry grabbed his cock at the base, his fingers splayed out against his big balls as he lined up and breached you with his rude, wide, mushroom tip. 

“Let me…”

The stretch burned deliciously, and both of you grunted as Henry eased into you, his length and girth making you question reality again. 

“…Slide into this warm…”

“Oh, Henry! Feels so-”

He cut you off.

“Shit! Love how you take it.”

“Oh god!”

You were almost sobbing at how good it felt.

“I feel you inside me.”

“D’you feel it getting bigger?”

You could hear the grin in his voice. You nodded and sobbed, the feeling indescribable.

“Stretching you out. So, so good.”

“Uh unhhh uhmmmmm. Missed you Hen...ry!”

“Me, too, Love. Me....too!”

Henry was moaning behind you as he smoothly thrust in and out of you, making it so good that your buried your head into the pillow and drooled into it between your screams of: “Oh my goddd!”

“Mmmm just like that, take it all for me.”

He delivered a sound slap to your behind and you keened.

“Love it when you take it all.”

He smacked you again.

“D’you like my cock?” he demanded.

“Mmmmyeah hmmm, I love itttt!”

Henry moved his hand around to your clit and started manipulating it.Then, he moved your hand to your sensitive nub as you whimpered.

“Now take over for me. Circle that clit. Justttt like that.”

You did as you were told, your legs shaking.

“Ohhh oh my god, Henry!”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Henry smacked your ass yet again.

“Now keep it up.”

The stimulation was getting to be too much. This man knew how to fuck all of you, not just your body, but your mind.

“Henry…” 

Your plaintive wail was almost too much for Henry. Yet he persisted.

“M’ gonna fuck you….”

Your wetness was making what was now happening sound obscene, and served to get you closer to the orgasm he hadn’t given you permission to have yet.

“Oh god!”

You wanted to pull your hand away, but you obeyed his command.

“There…”

Henry swiveled his hips so that your insides lit up like a christmas tree as he fucked you.

“Please…”

You couldn’t breathe, and you were beginning to feel a certain pressure in your pelvis. You whimpered again as Henry made you feel every nerve ending in your body.

“…Just…. there…”

Henry’s thrusts were controlled and steady, despite feeling your cunt clenching in waves around him as you tried in vain to stave off your end.

“Oh yeah I like that.” 

He’d leaned down, hot breath in your ear.

“Oh I feel it Henry.”

“God yeah. Me too. You like that, Doctor?”

“Oh Godddddd!”

Henry pulled you upright and you struggled to keep circling your clit as your hips sped up of their own volition. You used two hands as Henry squeezed your hips, holding on as you bounced up and down on his dick. His eyes were glued to your bouncing tits. 

“Oh shit! Just there…bounce like that, yeah.” 

Henry’s mouth descended and latched on, sucking your jugular as you fucked yourself on him. His hands kneaded your bouncing breasts. He was in heaven.

“Use me, Baby. Make yourself feel good.”

“You’re so fucking big….”

Henry grinned into your neck.

“Feel it Doctor…” 

Henry was blowing in your ear as he suckled on your lobe now. He bent you back over, placing his hand between your shoulder blades so you would move your hands and deliver the arch. You were relieved yet still desperate. Henry looked down and groaned.

“Look at that cream.”

The timbre of Henry’s voice and the slapping of skin on skin was more than you could bear.

“Henry… Please! Can I cum?”

The slapping intensified as Henry sped up and got sloppy, losing control finally.

“Cum… now Doctor…”

Henry stroked into you fiercely, prolonging your orgasm until your spasming channel forced him out of you.

You both exclaimed in disappointment, and Henry in laughed as he kissed your neck and plunged back inside you, fucking you even harder now.

“Thank you for that. I was about to spill everything inside you and this would be over. Gave me a bit of a breather. Now give me that arch again.”

He bent you over again.

“Just there. Oh yeah… Looka there…that arch…yesss. Love that arch.”

He crossed his arms to hold your hips still so that he could go even harder.

“Am I fucking you properly?”

You were drooling and your eyes were rolling; you barely registered his question. Henry slapped your ass.

“Oh. Yesssss! Fuck yesss. Cock is so hard…so big.”

“Oh, shit…sssssss!”

Henry hissed as he felt his cum crawl up from his balls. 

“I….ugh… Henry!!!... I’m cuming…”

“M…Me toooo!”

—-

You were the little spoon to Henry’s big as he held you on your couch, the plaid throw covering your nakedness. You stroked Henry’s arm as he held you close.

“Did you spend the entire two weeks thinking that up?”

Henry leaned over to look at you, smiled, and kissed your nose. Then he relaxed again.

“That was entirely off the cuff. You’re an inspiration. A muse.”

“A sexual muse, hunh.”

Henry pulled you closer to him. 

“So much more than sexually. You inspire me in so many areas.”

You looked back at him quizzically. He just grinned.

“Come, lets get cleaned up and get dressed. And give me ride over to my place, would you? We have a brunch reservation in… two hours at The Orangery. I’m taking you out on the town.”

“And you can pay, because you owe me a hundred dollars.”

You realized that it was put up or shut up time as Henry grinned at you.

——

If you liked it, reblog and let me know!

[certifiedsexed]

hi, so I’m wondering if I could get your insight on a particular matter.

basically seeing people pass out or lose consciousness gets me hot. theres something about it it, whenever i see it in movies or tv shows. it just does it for me, not sure why. maybe something to do with the eyes rolling back.

anyway, is this weird or predatory? does it count as somnophilia? im on the fence because its not the actual BEING passed out part, but the passing out itself. idk im sorry this is weird 😭 and thanks a zillion for your insight in advance

Hullo! Let me see what I can do.

As I've said before, Anon, if this is weird, it's all weird. This just sounds like a kink to me. You have a hyperspecific thing you know turns you on, that's cool! There's nothing inherently wrong with that; you're not assaulting, harassing or stalking anyone. You're just describing something that turns you on, that's not predatory.

Somnophilia usually refers to someone sleeping but it can count just for someone unconscious. I think it's kind of iffy since you said it's the action of them passing out, not them being unconscious that you find attractive.

What you're describing does sound different but I think I'd have to be more into those kink spaces to say!

It's absolutely fine! Hope this helps, let me know if you have anymore questions. <3

[inexplicifics]

If you're still doing snippets, I don't think we've had the Eldritch Trio one yet?

Also the Weird Omegaverse Warprize Thing is intriguing from the bits so far.... honestly I'm generally stoked for the entirety of the list.

If you feel like showing off one that hasn't been mentioned yet, blank space here!

Eldritch Trio:

The trio are all staring at Voltehre in bafflement as Lambert sits down. Well, Gweld is staring a little bit over Voltehre’s head. He never looks anyone in the eye unless he means to overpower their will. But the bafflement is still definitely there. “Hello,” Eskel says at last, a little warily. “Did you lose a bet?” “No,” Voltehre says, giving Eskel a sunny smile. ��I wanted to say hello, and Lam thinks you’re fascinating.” Lambert covers his face with a hand and prays the Grasses really did destroy his ability to blush. “Fascinating,” Geralt rumbles, and Lambert shudders at the sound. It’s not fear running down his spine, though maybe it should be. “Fascinating,” Gweld lilts, sounding amused. Lambert puts his hands on the table to push himself upright - he isn’t going to stay here and be mocked, fuck Voltehre for dragging him into this - One of Eskel’s tentacles curls around his wrist. “Stay,” Eskel says. “Fascinating’s better than most of the things we get called when they think we can’t hear.”

Weird omegaverse war prize thing:

As the barbarians finish eating, they get up and leave the hall, without any ceremony whatsoever; by the time Jaskier has cleared his plate, the hall is three-quarters empty. And it’s as he’s setting his mug down empty - he has to admit he rather likes the strong tisane they were served - that a beautiful young woman gets up from one of the other tables, leans down to kiss the barbarian she was sitting next to on the mouth, and comes striding over to the omegas. She’s tall and blonde, with blue-grey eyes and a generously curved figure that suggests both strength and probable fertility, and as she gets close enough to smell, Jaskier realizes she’s an omega. He wracks his brain hastily, but he doesn’t think the young barbarian she kissed was one of those who claimed any of Jaskier’s companions, so she’s probably not coming over to assert her own prior claim to her alpha - “Hullo,” she says, sliding onto the bench across from Jaskier. “I’m Julita.”

And for the author's choice - knight!Milena

The first thing Lambert thinks when he sees the armored figure riding at the manticore is, Well shit, that’s a waste of a good horse. It is a good horse: an enormous black stallion, maybe even larger than Scorpion, with absolutely beautiful conformation. It dwarfs its rider entirely; Lambert, watching the coming catastrophe with a grimace, assumes some squire has stolen his knight-master’s mount and is trying to prove himself worthy of his spurs, and is just going to get himself eaten for his trouble. Manticores are basically only vulnerable at eyes and mouth, and the chances of the rider hitting either of those with a lance-tip from a full gallop are… Lambert’s own mouth drops open, and he stands there gaping like a complete nitwit as the rider’s lance takes the manticore squarely in its open maw, the full force of the horse’s weight behind it, and the manticore goes back on its haunches and then over onto its side, taking the lance with it. The rider reins in the horse, curving neatly away from the fallen monster, and trots around to face his defeated enemy, sensibly drawing his sword as he goes. The manticore is busy going through its death throes, though; the rider halts his horse and waits, alert but unmoving, until the creature finally breathes its last.

[bradshawsbaby]

“don’t worry, i’ll always come get you.” and “i didn’t have anywhere else to go.” scream rhett to me!! like you could call this man up at any time and he would drop everything to come to you

I hope it’s alright, but I decided to edit one of the prompts slightly to make them work a little bit better together. So “I didn’t have anywhere else to go” became “I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Hope you enjoy!

“Hullo?”

Rhett’s voice was groggy when he picked up on the fifth ring, and you could tell you had just woken him up out of a deep sleep. You winced, guilt assailing you when you heard the exhaustion in his husky greeting. It was nearly three in the morning, and you knew he’d have to be up in a few hours to start doing his morning chores around the ranch.

“Rhett.” Your voice was soft as you uttered his name, pressing your phone closer to your ear and turning your back on the entrance to The Handsome Gambler. “It’s me.”

You could hear the rustling of his sheets, the picture of him bolting upright in his bed floating clearly across your vision. The sound of your name on the other end of the line, falling from his lips, caused tears to spring unbidden to your eyes.

“Where are you?” he asked, a gruffness to his tone that you knew had nothing to do with frustration and everything to do with worry and concern.

“The Handsome Gambler. Can you come pick me up?” you asked, your voice sounding pitifully small, even to your own ears.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t move,” he instructed you. You could already tell he was jumping out of bed, reaching for whatever clothes he could find first.

“Thank you, Rhett,” you murmured, ending the call and burrowing further into your jacket, your back pressed up against the wall as you tried to make yourself as small and invisible as possible.

True to his word, as always, Rhett’s truck pulled up in front of the bar exactly twenty minutes later, his hair sticking up in all different directions as he jumped out and slammed the door shut. Evidently he’d been in such a rush that he hadn’t even thought to grab one of his hats.

“Are you alright?” he demanded, closing the space between you in seconds and pulling you in, his blue eyes scanning your face for any sign of trouble.

“Yes,” you assured him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I just really want to go home,” you confessed.

Rhett tore his gaze away from your face long enough to glance at the door of The Handsome Gambler, his expression hardening slightly as he turned back to look at you.

“Roxie still in there?” he questioned, his warm hands still resting on your upper arms.

You just nodded in response, ducking your chin to avoid his eyes.

“It’s not your responsibility to take care of her. You know that, right?” he asked, his tone softening as he hooked a finger under your chin to lift your face.

You laughed without humor. “It feels like it is.”

“If your big sister wants to drag you out every weekend so that she can get trashed, that’s her problem, not yours. Let her figure out her own way home. I’m taking you back now,” he said, draping his sweatshirt over your shivering shoulders and walking you to his truck.

As he opened the passenger door for you, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Rhett. I know it’s so late. I just…I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

Rhett grew very still, carefully lifting one hand to brush his fingers down your cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “I’ll always come get you.”

late night prompts

[bodhrancomedy]

The Long Road to Melrakki Goðahús by Bodhrán M.

There were only two occupants of the cart now; a tall, oak-trunk chested human man and a smaller, cloaked individual hunched beside him. They appeared to be deep in conversation, the man’s arm around Cloak’s shoulders.

As she approached, she saw the man straighten up and flash her a cheerful grin. “Hullo! You wouldn’t be willing to spare a few vittles for some famished travellers? Last night’s hare left a bit to be desired.”

The goblin (girl? Woman? Hyrrokkin wasn’t sure) rolled her eyes and sniffed derisively, “Next time, Treech, you can do the cooking if you’re going to be like that.”

“Ah, I wasn’t the one who dropped half of it in the fire.”

“You know that wasn’t my fault,” the goblin woman patted the horse’s flank as she cast an exasperated look at Hyrrokkin. “I’m Quirk, by the way.”

“Hyrrokkin.” She half started to hold out a hand, but stopped. That was a human custom. She couldn’t remember if she’d learnt goblin etiquette. Quickly, she dropped her arm and tried to look as if she was just adjusting her skirts.

If any of them noticed, they had the good grace not to comment. Treech reached into the back of the cart with one hand and grabbed a bag, hefting it over his shoulder with ease. He hopped off the seat, landing like an eclipse on the scrubby grass.

His hair was extraordinarily neat, Hyrrokkin noticed, especially after travelling. He was also clean-shaven – something Aeolus rarely was even when they didn’t have a commission – and the half-buckled breastplate gleamed like a mountain snow-cap at dawn.

He held out his hand. “At your service.”

She did shake then, relieved he’d initiated it. His palm was almost as rough as hers, scales and all. “You folks are heading over the Líkdryrr Pass?”

“If you’ll take us,” he shrugged, “I’ve heard - wait a moment there, gramps. Let me help.”

The bag was shoved into Hyrrokkin’s hands so quickly she almost dropped it, stomach lurching as she fumbled it. With a deliberate quickness she hadn’t expected from such a large man, Treech reached up and grasped Cloak’s elbow before they could finish rising from the seat.

Cloak stilled instantly. Raising his eyes to the heavens, Treech took hold of their upper arm with his other hand and guided them down onto the ground.

Quirk bent back down to what she’d been doing and said casually, “Close one.”

“Don’t want you breaking a hip there,” Treech added. He kept hold of Cloak’s arm, seemingly supporting him.

A jolt of apprehension tingled in Hyrrokkin’s guts. If they need that much help off a small cart, she thought, Aeolus won’t be happy taking this.

Or letting you.  

Gritting her fangs against the thought, Hyrrokkin painted what she hoped was a warm smile across her face as she stepped forwards. “I’ve been rude. I’m Hyrrokkin. And you are?”

“Faro. Brother Faro,” Treech smoothly cut in. “Don’t mind him, he’s taken a vow of silence. Some odd sect of Vislyn.” At her expression he quickly continued, “He’s a monk.”

“Oh!” She’d never met a monk. Frostlings had a very communal and unstructured approach to religion and she hadn’t been able to get her head around the concept of organisation. “What’s the difference between a priest and a monk?”

“Priests talk about the gods, monks just think about ‘em,” Quirk said. “I’m loving the chat, but would someone mind giving me a hand with this damned horse?”

[mollymagician]

I’m sitting here hurting my own feelings today, thinking about retired!Dream feeling more and more afraid that’s he’s not going to be able to cut it, and Hob knowing this but not knowing what to do.

Just, how wildly alien life as a human is, like the wall of sensory overwhelm that people who are suddenly immersed in a new country feel but magnified by several thousand orders of magnitude. Dream knows he has to push through it, but he doesn’t know how. And Hob knows that he’s not enough, that Dream can’t do it for him, for Hob, as much as they both wish he could. He has to do it for himself.

Hob’s taken to waking in the night and going to ferret Dream out in whatever corner of the flat he’s burrowed (usually curled up on the floor behind the couch, staring out the window into whatever he can see of the night sky…occasionally the bathroom…once-memorably- the closet.) Hob sits quietly and waits patiently, until Dream comes back from wherever his mind is attempting to go. And Hob asks him, “So, old stranger. Do you still wish to live?”

At first, he gets no response. He doesn’t really expect one, but he tries not to feel how crushing it still is. Feels it anyway.

He keeps asking. Every day, he asks.

He asks the day Dream leaves the flat for the first time, wrapped in a borrowed sweater (it stays indefinitely borrowed) and a human-contact-repelling glare.

He asks the day Dream finally speaks three (rasping, stilted, but real) sentences in a row, which Hob declared the new record to beat and insists is a cause for celebratory pizza.

He asks the day he finds Dream standing in the kitchen, transfixed, reaching out for the heat and flicker of the little candle left burning in the colored glass holder on the counter. (He stares at Hob the same way as he hovers over him in the bathroom, smearing burn gel on Dream’s burnt fingertip.)

He asks again the day Dream actually asks to eat, for the first time.

He asks again, the day Dream tells him that he’s added ‘being alone in the night’ to his tally of things he hates.

He would have asked, he knows, the day that he wakes to find Dream plastered against him in his bed, wearing that expression again, as though Hob were a fire being seen by eyes that had never really seen a flame. He would have asked that day, but Dream is already there, whispering “Ask me” against his forehead. Too quick by half, this one.

“H-hullo, old Stranger,” he whispers back, like a secret. “Do you still wish to live?” And Dream smiles.

“Death’s a mug’s game,” he says, and kisses him.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 19 - Admire

Douglas Couldn't Help It!

Douglas smiled softly as he watched the station. It had been only a couple of years since his dramatic escape from British Rail and arrival on Sodor, but Oliver was already fitting in like a natural. The Great Western engine was an absolute social butterfly, able to charm the big engines with ease even as he made Duck laugh with all his in-jokes that only the two truly understood. He was admittedly still a little wary of the diesels - especially Bear and Daisy whose classes had worked around where Oliver had lived and replaced him and his siblings - but even then he was growing more confident around them with each passing day. 

“It’s nice being on Sodor,” Oliver had confided in Douglas. “Diesel and steam engines can live in harmony here without fear of one replacing the other.” Douglas couldn’t agree more, he himself feeling more at peace with the diesels on Sodor with each passing year. But the way Oliver seemed so relaxed and confident in himself, it made Douglas feel all sorts of things. Douglas couldn't help it! Oliver was so suave and witty and brave - how could he not admire him? 

As if on cue, a cheerful whistle blasted in the distance, and Oliver steamed in. Douglas puffed over, a broad smile already growing on his lips. “Hullo Oliver, how was yer run?” “Oh, hi Douglas,” grinned Oliver. Douglas felt like his fire was about to melt right through his firebars and fall all over the line. “The run was good - I don’t think I’ll ever get over how beautiful this line is!” “Aye, it is a fabulous little line, though I’m sure yer old line was also nice.” “Oh it was!” Oliver began, “but… then the diesels began to arrive, and we didn’t get to use the line as much. And that was after they replaced most of the Autocoaches with their Mark 1s… nasty, heavy things!” Douglas just hummed, a little dopily. Oliver chuckled, shooting Douglas a megawatt smile that went straight to the poor Scot’s boiler.

“I’ve got to go, and I think you do too,” grinned Oliver, already beginning back down the line with his train. Douglas blinked, and looked back. His guard was tapping his foot impatiently, and when he spotted Douglas finally paying him some attention, gestured to the trucks. Douglas went red with embarrassment and hurried to get back to work.

As he back down onto his trucks, Douglas looked over and spotted Mike sitting on the Arlesdale Railway’s tracks next to him. Mike was shooting Douglas the most disgusted look an engine could, his face scrunched up comically. “What?” “You’re besotted,” sneered Mike. “It’s pathetic to watch – just talk to him like a normal engine, ask him out if you have to! But stop gazing after him like he’s some damsel in a Hollywood film!” Douglas just sighed. “Ye'll understand ane day.” “No I won’t! Who would I even look at like that? Frank?! You’ve lost it, Douglas!” Douglas ignored the little pillarbox of an engine and steamed away.

Douglas worked hard all day, trying his best to find another time when his schedule matched up with Oliver’s so they could chat – only much to his dismay, it just didn’t happen. Poor Douglas was never in the right spot, and all he could do was watch as the cute Autotank vanished out of view with his passengers.

“Ah canae tak it anymore! Hou is it thon A keep missin Oliver by mere seconds?!” burst out Douglas to his twin that night. Donald snorted. “Ye're juist unlucky. Iver considerit playin cards - ye'd have more luck thare than i love!” Douglas rolled his eyes at his twin and went unhappily to sleep.

An entire week went by in this manner, with Douglas managing one or two short conversations each day where Oliver would leave him absolutely flustered and whining to his twin about the Western engine he had rescued. Donald indulged his twin with a wry grin, remembering similar conversations he’d had to listen to back in Scotland and back at Tidmouth.

Finally, Douglas managed to strike good fortune. On Saturday, he finished up his duties near Tidmouth, and convinced his driver to let him sleep there the night, so he could try strike up a conversation with Oliver again. But as he neared the shed, he heard voices – it was Oliver! And… Gordon?

“I mean, he’s just so strong,” sighed Oliver wistfully. “I suppose, though I don’t see the appeal personally,” came the reply. Douglas felt his boiler pressure drop. Who was Oliver talking about?

“I mean, have you seen him?” went on Oliver. “Especially at night! Watching him go by is a true sight.” Gordon snorted. “You talk like he’s me! Please, just because we—” Douglas reversed back down the line as fast as his wheels could carry him. Oliver liked another engine. Oh.

Oh no.

And Douglas knew who it was too – a strong engine who ran at night and Gordon could relate to? It had to be Henry! Gordon and Henry had shared a shape, and Henry hauled the Flying Kipper. It made so much sense, didn’t it? Of course Oliver would want someone like Henry, who was strong and caring and determined! And the two shared a shed too, so of course they had gotten to know each other well; and to think Douglas thought he had a chance.

Douglas managed to get James to agree to trade his late evening coal train – which was not that difficult, all things considered – and got as far away from Tidmouth as quickly as possible. He delivered the coal, then slept unhappily at Vicarstown.

Douglas didn’t say much for the next few days. He did his work, sighing quietly but still treasuring every smile Oliver sent his way. The Fat Controller had listened to his rather sudden request to help out on Edward’s branchline and agreed – for a few days at least, but all too soon Douglas was back on the Little Western.

Donald had noticed Douglas’ change of mood almost instantly, but waited a few days before confronting his twin.

“Richt, ye've been mopin aw week. Whit's wrong wi ye?” snapped Donald at the sheds. Douglas jumped, and looked at Donald for all of three seconds before gazing down at his buffers, a defeated look gracing the Caledonian’s features. “Oliver likes a different engine. A dinnae want tae get i the way thouch - A'm no some insane jealous idiot wha refuses tae see him happy without me thouch – e'en gin it's wi Henry. A'll juist admire him from afar an wait for these feelings tae gae away.”

Donald stared at his twin for a long, silent minute. He didn’t know what to say – Douglas believed, of all things, that Oliver liked a different engine. “Are ye sure?” he asked delicately. Douglas sniffled a little. “Ay, A overheard him at the sheds. He wis talkin tae Gordon aboot his crush. A'll be ok, juist... give me some time, aw richt?”

Donald agreed, and watched as his twin fell asleep. Then, he groaned aloud. “These twa idiots,” he grumbled. “A'm gaun'ae have tae talk tae Duck aboot this.”

Duck agreed with Donald. “Oliver’s been moping about Tidmouth too,” he huffed. “These two are as dumb as each other, I swear. We need to do something about it.” “Douggie wonae dae anythin - he's committit tae "just admirin him from afar" like some sort o chivalrous knicht.” “So it’ll have to be Oliver,” Duck realised. Donald agreed grimly.

These two would definitely need a push in the right direction – and thankfully, Duck knew exactly what to say…

“You’re an idiot and now Douglas thinks you like Henry.”

…Or maybe not.

“He thinks what? How?!” “He overheard you talking to Gordon about him and somehow misunderstood everything. The only reason I know is cause he told Donald, and I put ten and eleven together and figured out how dim-witted the pair of you are. Go ask that dumb Scot out already or I will dump you with Thomas.” “I get along fine with Thomas,” huffed Oliver. “He’s having another spat with Percy,” Duck replied with a groan. Oliver shuddered. The two still remembered the screaming match the pair had had in the middle of the Big Harbour a month back – it had been so bad that Gordon had to drag Thomas away while Henry held Percy back from chasing after the blue tank engine.

“Those two fight like cats and dogs,” sighed Oliver. “inconsistently and whenever it suits their fancy.” Duck couldn’t help but laugh, before pausing. “Don’t try and distract me – go ask Douglas out!” Oliver groaned, and puffed away to go do just that.

He found the Caledonian dozing in his shed up at Arlesburgh. Thinking quickly, Oliver convinced the signalman to let him roll onto the same line as Douglas, puffing right up to the Caledonian’s bufferbeam. Douglas opened a sleepy eye – and then bolted right awake.

“Oliver?!” “Hi Douglas. You know, I heard a very interesting thing today.” Douglas gulped, feeling his fire go cold. “O-oh?” Oliver grinned at the nervous engine, and smiled cheekily. “Oh yes – a birdie told me that you liked someone. And imagine my delight when I found out who.” Douglas listened intently – and then it sunk in. “Delichted? Are ye…”

Oliver smiled at the Caledonian, and rolled forwards until he buffered up to him.

“You’re an idiot, you know that? I like you, not some other engine. Strong, runs at night, saved me, blue like Gordon? It’s you.” Douglas just blinked dumbly, then groaned. “O course Gordon wad compare our paint juist sae he coud talk aboot himself!” “Of course,” agreed Oliver. “But I’d rather not hear you talk about other engines when we’re talking about us.”

Needless to say, Douglas was flushed bright red for the rest of the day and Oliver scored himself a Caledonian boyfriend.

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