#i just did it knowing i was gonna fool around tbh

[oni-1-oni-none]

i did a picrew but it was kinda cursed bc 1, that does NOT look like me at all and 2… jack box.. 😭

link if anyone wants to do it

[heartbrake-hotel]

Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:

Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.

At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.

And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.

aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,

(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))

also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏

far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).

right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check

for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏

if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring

kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.

colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me

but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing

coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.

colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !

and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business

just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]

he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.

he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.

the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers

his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.

he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.

when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.

he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.

the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?

they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !

he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.

he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.

the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.

and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.

he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.

the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.

the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...

when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.

he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.

of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.

if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.

the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...

it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.

colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.

elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.

she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.

surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.

he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.

when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...

...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.

thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.

the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.

of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.

vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.

if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.

elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.

and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.

things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.

he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.

this is where the reader steps in !!!

you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that

but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.

tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.

you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.

you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.

eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.

elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...

ah. there it is

you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?

that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?

you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.

you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo

you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.

the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.

he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.

as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.

"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"

when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.

meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.

you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.

elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.

"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.

"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.

"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"

"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol

you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.

he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"

you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."

and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?

but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.

"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.

as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"

you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move

"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually

the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.

"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."

your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3

you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.

but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.

he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere

he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."

he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."

over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.

"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.

at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.

"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"

the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.

his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.

his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.

"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.

"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.

he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."

"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.

"let's get to it."

[dreamofjoys]

Malleus in a rut

— c/w: smut, afab, malleus in his season eheh, scratching, groping, cockwarming, shower sex, breeding, cunningligus, overstimulation, serpent tongue,

— a/n: i did a similar one but it was for an april fool's prank LOL anyways here's a legitimate one :D i got carried away tbh

Malleus knows it's gonna be his season soon when he starts showing tantrums and being clingy towards you

You know it too, especially during the mornings when he would cling onto your body like a koala, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, begging you to stay in bed with him while snarling at anyone who dares to interrupt his time with you

Times like this, everyone (just malleus honestly) decided that it would be best to just whisk you away to one of his private towers so that no one would disturb the both of you

His season is probably one of the best thing that has happened to him, since he gets to spend infinite amount of time with you without having to bother about his pending workload

Every morning with him is just lazy time, you being too tired and sore from previous night’s activities ahem ahem

You would wake up to Malleus staring at you, propping his elbow up to rest his chin on his palm, his bare chest with scratch marks on displayed

Your face would turn red when you realised how hard you scratched him. Malleus doesn’t really care about it, in fact he loves it when your nails dig into his skin, leaving crescent red marks. Those are physically proof that you are laying your claim on him(or at least in his dragon theory), and he wants you to mark him over and over again

You would forcefully drag yourself out of bed, deciding to take an hour long of morning shower after falling asleep with layers of sweats and.... fluids

But it's all a game over when you start to stand up. A trail of white cum starts leaking down between your legs, reminding you of how much Malleus had dumped his cum in you the previous night

Dragon boy saw it and was not happy at all

He carries you to the shower, turning on the shower head so that the both of you would start cleaning up

However, he's a sneaky boy. He would slot his rock hard cock back into your cunt, determined not to let any of his seeds drip out again

It's romantic at first. The both of you facing each other, rubbing onto each other's body with body wash. You would apply some shampoo to Malleus's wet hair, scratching onto his scalp with foamed bubbles, making him purr in delight

(( THE IMAGE IN MY MIND RN IS THE WATER FROM THE SHOWER HEAD DRIPPING ONTO MALLEUS, MAKING HIS HAIR WET AND THEN IT DRIPS DOWN TO HIS CHEST, MAKING IT LOOK EXTRA SHINY. AND THEN YOUR HANDS ARE SCRATCHING ONTO HIS SCALP AND THERE'S SOME BUBBLES IN IT. HE IS PURRING IN DELIGHT. BARK BARK GRRRR WOOOF))

But then Malleus decided to play around, bucking his hips up in such precise accuracy, making sure that his tip brush onto your sweet spot

Perhaps your little moan in response has triggered his raging hormones again, he had you pressed in a missionary position against the shower wall, beginning to ruthlessly assault your cunt at 8am in the morning

One hand presses on your waist to hold you against the wall while the other roams around your body, spreading - while groping and kneading - the body wash all over your soft flesh

There's really just something turning him on when he sees you drenched from head to toe, folded in half perfectly for him. His cock disappearing in and out from your pussy. God, you are definitely made for him. How he want to just fill you up with his cum, and maybe dirty you a little by cumming all over your body

That 1 hour shower turned into 3 hours of sex

And that wasn't even the end. Lunch was meant to be a break time where people rest and eat to recharge their energy, right???

RIGHT??

In Malleus's eyes, it's just the time for him to eat you out like a starved man. Bending you over the kitchen, spreading your ass cheeks to expose your pretty pussy to him while he dives head right in, fully burying his face in as his tongue laps and swallows everything that you give

It was good at first. His wet muscle may pale in comparison when it comes to his thick cock, but man was excellent at pleasuring you, his mate. His long serpent tongue doing circular motions to feel every single part of your wall spasming around like crazy just on his tongue alone

Would insert two fingers inside just to scissor you, bringing you closer to your orgasm as you let out a high pitched moan, walls clamping down on him before releasing the tight knot

He's a god at making you cum just on his tongue. But when it gets too much, you tried closing your thighs, which resulted to trapping his head in between your legs. Your small hands gripping on his horns, trying to push him away as you tell him that you can't cum anymore. You are hungry, you want to eat. But man only stays stationery in his position, the filthy sound of your slopping wet pussy being devoured continues to echo through the kitchen

If you haven't said your safe word yet, surely, you don't mind, right?

Dinner is... well, dinner. Dragon boy will have you sit on his lap while feeding you like how a mother would feed their child. It's absolutely pleased when you open your mouth to eat the food that he personally spoon feeds you to. A protective arm wraps around your waist, his thumb rubbing circles as you excitedly tell him about one of your outings back in your world

Will think you are a chipmunk when your mouth is stuff with food while looking at him with eager eyes

Sex after dinner? It depends. He knows you are tired and won't push too much (He holds himself back but if you want to, you guys can keep on going)

Basically he becomes sex crazy during this period but man is still a puppy for you regardless of what happens

[corazondebeskar-reads]

could be

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

this ficlet is brought to you by @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my assigned color was "pretty clicker" (which tbh idk if we needed to include the color but I did anyway lol).

genre: pwp (I tried my best) prompt: "whoa, that's a new one."

words: 1.7k

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

warnings: pwp, oral (m&f receiving), handjob, fingering, joel and reader are astoundingly bad at emotions, a few playful spanks, tommy makes an off-screen cameo, old man joel my beloved, antics, absolutely no proofreading or beta reading whatsoever rip sorry

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Whoa, that’s a new one,” drawls the man as he steps out of the shadow of the copse. “ If it ain’t the prettiest little clicker I’ve ever seen.” 

You scowl, tugging the hat off, boot scuffing the dirt as you grind the frustration of being caught out into the soil. It gives with some difficulty, the late autumn’s early frost already turning the ground to stone. “Shut up, Joel,” you mutter. 

“That always work for ya? How haven’t you gotten shot yet?” He says, jerking his head down at the ball cap you’ve adorned with the decapitated clicker’s face.

(Or should you say disembodied? Dessicated? Desecrated? Whatever, you cut the fucking mushrooms off a dead fucker and stuck them on a hat. The terms don’t matter.) 

“Yep. Not too many fools out here who will go looking for a clicker when they hear one.”

“It’s a good impression, darlin’, but it’s not quite enough to trick me.” He’s drawn close, maybe too close, and curls two fingers under your chin, drawing your gaze to his grizzled face. 

You roll your eyes. “You a clicker whisperer or something?” 

His lips curl. “Not quite, no.” He lets his hand fall from your chin, and you watch it go. 

When you look back up at his face, you’re caught. Trapped. His grin is solemn, as if he, too, feels the snare.

“You got somewhere to stay tonight?” he says, instead of acknowledging the way you’ve drawn a breadth closer. 

“Sure do,” you drawl. 

He chuckles. “Alright, keep your secrets. But, uh—my back ain’t what it used to be, so the forest floor ain’t gonna work for me today.”

Your lips curl. “Presumptuous, are we?”

“You’re lookin’ at me like a piece of meat, sweetheart.”

“Well, ain’tcha?”

“Guess you must be desperate, then, ‘f’you’re back for an old man like me.”

“Guess so,” you hum and give in. “How d’you always find me?”

“Hmm, don’t you worry ‘bout that, alright? All you gotta know is that I do always find you, and I’ve got some of Tommy’s peanut butter cookies in my bag for ya.”

“My hero,” you press one hand over your heart while the other makes the universal ‘gimmie’ gesture at his backpack. 

“Could be, y’know,” he mumbles. 

You both ignore the slip. He rifles around in the bag and pulls out a tin. You try to snatch it from him, but he pulls away with a wagging finger. 

“Nope, not yet,” he says with a teasing lilt, his drawl drawing out. He hands you one precious sweet and tucks the rest back into his bag. “If I give it to you now, you’ll just run off, and then what’ll I have?”

“A sense of satisfaction from being kind?”

You share a laugh at your joke as he leads you not to the safe “house” but up to the old, creepy lodge you avoid like the plague. Or. Well. Like the Infected. 

“Calm down, I already cleared it,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s got a real bed, though, sweetheart, so I can take my time with ya.”

“You mean so you don’t break a knee fuckin’ me over a log?”

“It didn’t break. Jesus. How old do you take me for?”

“Old as shit,” you mutter. 

He just grins. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’. You just get brattier the longer you’re away. Ain’t got any good cock back home?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, but it’s close to the truth. There’s cock back home, sure, but then you’d have to fuck one of those losers, and you just know Joel’s ruined you. 

Ruined you with intent and precision, and now he’s taking you by the hand and leading you up into the lodge’s dusty halls and into what must have once been a nice guest room. 

You whistle. “Did you clean this just for me?” You ask, batting your lashes. 

“If I say yes, you gonna be sweet for me?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. “So get your ass up here.”

You quickly shimmy out of your sweats and climb up to straddle him, but his grin splits wider in a lecherous stretch. 

“You think I brought you here for you to ride me? Y’can do that shit in the woods. Get up here.”

You hesitate. “I live in a fucking camp, Joel.” The “without running water” bit is obvious but unspoken.

“I do not give a shit,” he says bluntly. “Get up here.”

“Your funeral,” you say with a shrug, and let him help you settle over his face. You’re barely steady when he grabs your hips and pulls, bringing you to meet him. 

It’s been… longer than you can even remember, and oh shit. Either your memory hasn’t done this justice, or the last man to eat you out was fuckin’ terrible because this is nothing like you’ve ever known. 

But he doesn’t dive in and rush it. He doesn’t go straight to sucking on your clit; he doesn’t push three fingers into your cunt to work you open for his cock. 

Oh, no. You’ve been had, you think. This setup was an elaborate trap to wipe your mind clean and replace everything with thoughts of him. He’s brought you here to the second closest place of safety he knows so he can take his fuckin’ time with you. 

His hands are gentle on you, and he nuzzles into your mound to part your folds, his wide nose pushing between to seek out his prize. The tip of his tongue pushes out to help, tracing the tiny slit of your cunt. At the first taste of you, he groans, drawn out and filthy. 

“Shit,” he pants, hot breath scattering across the soft peaks and valleys. “It’s been too goddamn long.”  He seems to be talking to himself, which is good because you can’t wrangle more than a tangled gasping whimper in response. 

He brings his hands up underneath you to grip your inner thighs, pulling to spread you more so he can watch you start to glisten. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling back in to lap it up. “Mmm, baby, is all this for me?”

“Shoulda known you wouldn’t shut up,” you mutter, even though you’re addicted to his filthy mouth most of the time.

“Shut me up then,” he says in a way you simply cannot refuse. 

You grind down on his face, expecting protest, but he moans in a way you can only classify as slutty. He buries his face between your thighs with a growl and gets to work. 

You can barely hold yourself up after the first orgasm he coaxes from you, all powerful tongue and gentle lips. 

“Y’ain’t quittin’ on me, are ya?” He taunts. 

“I thought you were gonna shut up.” 

He smacks your ass. “Turn around.”

When you do, he pushes you down to lay on him. “Get nice and cozy with my cock, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

You take the invitation but before you can pull him free from his jeans, he’s diving back into his personal all you can eat buffet and showing no sign of slowing. 

Eventually, you manage to pry his ridiculous monster cock from its denim confines and try, really try, to focus on it, but it’s so hard (you giggle as you tell him) when he keeps doing that thing with his teeth and your clit. After the third time, you find yourself just moaning and drooling around it; you give up and rest your head on his thigh, content to hold it in your hand and lick. 

He spanks you again. “Don’t be a tease.”

You try to protest, but he bests you by attempting to suck your soul out of your clit while hammering two thick fingers against your g-spot, and it’s all over for your brain. Poor thing never stood a chance against Joel anyway. 

You squirm away from the menace when he attempts to keep going and smack him in the face with a pillow when he whines. He wipes his beard on it and throws it back at you. 

You can’t hold back your questions now that you’re back up and running. “How d’you have the time for this?” 

“Hmm?” Joel grunts, a hand tugging lazily at his dick while he surreptitiously slides his hand down the length of your thigh and back up. 

You turn on your back, swatting his hand away. “You’re usually in a rush.”

He turns a little pink. “Don’t matter.”

“Uh, it clearly does. I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s nunya.”

You groan. “Think I liked it better when you were too busy eating me out to talk.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

You throw the cum-stained pillow back at him but miss by an embarrassing overshot. It arcs over him and into the floor between his side of the bed and the wall. 

You shrug. “Gone forever,” you say and throw an arm over your eyes dramatically. 

It’s a good thing, too, since the pillow hits you in the face. 

“I’m on watch here,” he says once you stop screeching indignantly. 

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” you let him know solemnly. 

“Ain’t alone. M’brother—Tommy,” he clarifies unnecessarily, “S’here too. He’s got it handled.”

“Oh my god, did you ask your brother to cover for you so you could get laid?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Aw, Miller. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you drawl. 

He plays it off with another eye roll and scoffs, but the thing is—you know. He stopped asking you to think about moving to Jackson a long time ago. But slowly, he’s been taking you closer and closer to town when you meet up. 

And you’re pretty sure he’s using Tommy’s cookies as a reward. Each time he lures you closer, he brings more treats the next time. You’d be mad at the absolute gall, but… it’s not not working, so you only have yourself to blame.

When you catch his eye again, he makes a point to hold your gaze and draw it down to his leaking cock, and you know he knows. You won’t go with him, so he’ll have you here. Jackson is not your home. But that quiet drawl in your head that sounds unnervingly similar to the man sprawled before you whispers, it could be.

[2knightt]

CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

[yan-lorkai]

Any headcanons for Sebastian dirty talking 👀 like the kind of things he'd say

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Casually throw this to y'all like it wasn't hidden on my drafts for some time now. No but like I can't dirty talk to save my life (+ I'm ace ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭) so I don't know if this is good? But if I don't post this now, I may never post tbh. I hope it's good lol, enjoy!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, possessive Sebby, very suggestive content, dirty talking obvs, amab and afab reader

Sebastian is a versatile lover, dedicated to you and your pleasure. And he knows how to draw out each syllable, what tone of voice to use and how to speak to make you melt in his arms. What does he normally say?

"Love, you're doing so well for me, mmh!"

"Let's see if you're capable of keeping this atitude after I'm done with you."

"You naughty little thing, you think I wouldn't notice how you were trying to tease me? You're not walking tomorrow, mark my words."

"You're so hard already, how cute! Let's see what kind of sounds you make when I swallow you whole, hmm?"

"You like when I'm rough with you, huh? Tell me, tell me how much you love my cock."

"Good girl, so good for me. Mmh, are you close? Gonna cum for me?"

"Please? Please what, darling? Enlighten me, what do you want? Do you want me to touch you here? Wanna me to be faster? slower? I can't read your mind now, can I? Don't get shy on me now, angel. Use your words!"

"Your moans always get me hard, so heavenly it's almost sinful, darling."

"You look so handsome like this - ooh, fuck, you like when I praise you? I can feel you clenching around me, my good boy. So precious for me, so good, aah!"

"You look so so gorgeous right now - ohh, riding me like that."

"Think you can top me, think you can make me scream and cry like I do you? That I like to see, angel."

"Like that, scream my name like that — ahh I'm close!"

"Cum on my tongue for me. You tastes so fucking sweet."

"Who owns this pussy? Who? That’s right. I do. I own your fucking pussy, your ass and your mouth. I own everything you are, darling. Never forget this."

"You did so well for me, love. But do not be fooled, I'm not done with you just yet!"

[tiredfox64]

Part two of my kill for hire reader?!?!?! Like the brothers all court her? Different endings on who she chooses?!?!?!

Go for the Kill

Prior notes: @eemr1000 @livingdeadgirly @k3ythesapphic COME GET YOUR FOOD BEFORE THE MOLES GET IT. Tbh I struggled a little but i think I did okay.

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Just get inside!

You made quite a reputation for yourself. You have been most useful to Lord Liu Kang. Thanks to the help of the Lin Kuei your skills have grown substantially. And look at that, you made three new friends as well. Well, they want to be more than just friends.

It didn’t take long for the brothers to recognize that they all liked you for their own reasons. Bi-Han liked how deceitful you can be just to get the job done. Kuai Liang applauds your tactics and finds your intelligence to be quite attractive. Tomas saw your huge potential and finding out you are actually sweet drew him in.

Yes, yes, you certainly have a nice set of bachelors just waiting to nab you for themselves. But, uh, who are you gonna pick?

I mean they haven’t even asked you out yet. You’ve been busy with more killing assignments so they haven’t gotten the chance to have you alone. It’s fine, it gives them plenty of time to think and prepare a way to court you. They have their own ways, it just depends who gets to you first.

You get back to the Lin Kuei temple after another successful killing. You’re a bit tired and just want to settle down for the night but you can already hear all three of them making their way towards you. Well, now it’s just one since Bi-Han decided he gets to see you first. It wasn’t a mutual decision he just pushed his brothers out of the way.

“I see you are successful once again. I do not expect anything less from you.” He compliments you as if you haven’t been killing for who knows how long. You noticed he grabbed onto your hand, ready to drag you away from everyone else.

“It is incredible how perfect you still look. You look like you barely broke a sweat.” Now Kuai Liang was coming in. He grabbed your other hand with the same intent Bi-Han has.

“You must be tired after that assignment. Maybe you should relax for a little. I can help you.” Who do you think just snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist? That’s right, Tomas.

You could feel tension in the air building up as you looked at all three brothers. They weren’t looking at you but they were glaring at each other. Something’s off but you can’t tell.

“Come with me, I have something important to discuss with you.” Bi-Han spoke.

“Whatever you have to say, brother, can wait. I have something important to tell her as well.” Then Kuai Liang spoke.

“I have something just as important to say to her.” Tomas pitched in.

“Why don’t you all just tell me what you want to say.” You were snappy since you were tired.

There was silence. They were unsure about confessing right now. But if it has to be done, so be it. Bi-Han will go first obviously. He pulled you in close, glared at his brothers, then looked down at you with a less cold look.

“Ever since the first time I saw you kill that fool, I knew you were the perfect woman for me. Skilled, precise, vicious even. You belong next to a grandmaster like me. I would hate for some incompetent fool to have their hands on you and ruin a perfectly good woman like yourself.”

To be honest, you were shocked. Did Bi-Han really have his eyes on you this whole time? You would have never guessed.

I mean it’s not like he deliberately made time to train you every time you were at the temple. It’s not like you caught him giving you that devilish smirk whenever he watch you kill someone else in your own devious way. And when you asked everyone else if he has ever smiled at them that way they all thought you were mad. Cause when the fuck does Bi-Han ever smile. There was never even a twitch in his lips at anything enjoyable other than you. Alright so there were signs you just didn’t think too much into it.

Now it was Kuai Liang’s turn. He yanked you away from his brother and held you close. He looked at you more warmly and a less cold expression overall.

“Your beauty and intellect has awed me. I have never met a woman with your skills. You are a rare kind of person that I would hate to let go of. My desire for you burns brighter and hotter than the fire I produce.”

Kuai Liang’s words were sweet. You believed him since he was always such a gentleman to you. He always complimented and applaud you for your plans. Your ways of execution were unlike anything he has seen. You always appreciated that you felt equal to him. He never held back when you two would practice which helps make sure you were always at your best.

Don’t forget about Tomas. He pulled you in by your waist. His head rested on your shoulder, just appreciating your presence before confessing.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen someone with such skills that could rival a hunter. Not even in my homeland did I see many like you. I see so much potential in you and I want to be next to you as you develop your skills further. No one could rival you.”

You always heard Tomas cheer you on. He wanted to know your tricks and you would happily share them with him. You two had a closeness that came from your sneaky skills. He was great to practice with when preparing for your next assignments, except you wouldn’t actually kill him of course. You appreciated that he saw that you were actually sweet and never questioned if you were just putting up a persona or not. He wasn’t afraid of hearing that sweet voice of yours and think that you were about to poison him.

He let you go and now they were all looking at you. It’s your call. Whoever you will pick will have you for himself. Now pick. Who will you be with?

Bi-Han

(So…this is your choice)

You walked up to Bi-Han. You had your eyes on Bi-Han for some time. He is strong, he helped you better your skills, he’s got a handsome face, and a voice that sends shivers down your spine. Clearly, you’re digging him too.

That devilish smirk came back. In his mind you made the right decision. A woman like you is fit for a grandmaster. Your devious tactics combined with his high title is a great combo.

You didn’t even have to verbally say yes to him he took your approach to him as the answer. Unexpectedly, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

Well he can’t have you in front of his brothers since they wanted you just as badly. You didn’t know where he was taking you but you recognized soon that he took you to his office. Just for extra measures since the locks apparently aren’t good enough, he froze the door handle. Now no one could get in and no one can get out.

Bi-Han wiped all the papers off the desk before placing you down on it. He leaned his body against yours to the point he pushed you onto your back. You heard a little hum of desire before he spoke up.

“Finally, we are alone. I have you all to myself.”

Kuai Liang

(Is this correct, reader?)

You walked up to Kuai Liang. You need a gentleman like Kuai Liang. Not just that but his body drew you in. So warm and well built. All those times he would pin you down during practice made you fall for him hard. Even his serious expression was attractive to you.

You made Kuai Liang a happy man today. A lovely lady like you is something he has dreamed of. One that is just as tough and precise when plan making as he is.

“You have quite a way with words, Kuai Liang. I can tell it came deep from your heart.” You commented as you placed your hand on his chest.

He looked at you so lovingly. In your heart you felt like you made a good choice. He held your face as he leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. The kiss felt hot. His desire truly does burn hot.

You heard a groan come from Bi-Han. At least Tomas can act happy for his brother. Kuai Liang will surely get shit for this from his brother. But it doesn’t matter. He has you and he couldn’t be more happy.

“Do not worry about him. He is just upset that I have a beauty like you in my arms now.”

Tomas

(Your eyes see true)

You walked up to Tomas. You want someone who sees so much in you. To hear that you remind him of his homeland made your heart melt. You never heard something so sweet.

Tomas was ecstatic. Being picked is such a wonderful feeling. He picked you up in his strong arms and twirled you around as if you were a princess. Hey, I bet he would give you that princess treatment you deserve.

You giggled as he placed kisses all over your face. His beautiful huntress. All his.

Of course Bi-Han groaned and wanted to start a fight with Tomas. For once, Tomas would not let his brother get in the way of his happiness. He threw a smoke bomb in Bi-Han’s direction which made him go into a coughing fit. At least Kuai Liang was happy that his brother found love, and that he didn’t get hit with a smoke bomb. He turned his attention back to you again.

“Perhaps we should go somewhere more private, my dearest.”

Bonus: All of them

(I’m the writer I get to have a say!)

“Well, you clearly all like me. Why not I just date all of you.” You said it so casually.

You stumped them all. It wasn’t because they didn’t think of that it’s because it’s not something one would usually say in a situation like this. But you ain’t the usual kind of gal, are you.

“Can’t I love you all equally? Don’t brothers have to share anyways?” You keep bringing up these points which stump them further.

Ah yes, the tactic of confusion.

You can easily love them all. They will get their own special treatments. There is so much to love about each one of them. You were already debating on this before so you had this all set in your mind.

“Perhaps you can. I am unsure how this could work but it will not hurt to try.” Kuai Liang answered.

“Yeah, I think this could work out. You always find a way to make things happen. it will make everyone involved happy.” Tomas added on.

Kuai Liang agreed with Tomas which made them both on board with this. Bi-Han was more hesitant. He should have you all to himself. But it would make some things awkward around her. Oh fine! At least he still gets you.

“Fine. We will have it your way. But I get to have you first.”

Bi-Han picked you up and threw you over his shoulders. You get a sense of deja vu but you never experienced this, right?

All the brothers start to argue and insist he put you down. It was a no from him every time. You sigh as you realize this could get a little complicated.

Oh dear, looks like Bi-Han needs to learn that sharing is caring.

After notes: Alright yall I gotta go gamble and fight senior citizens for pickle rick, giants football, and a Japanese switch. I will throw hands. Sorry if this ain’t the best I did my best. Adiós!

[kairoot]

the hide my bfs here prank one with jay is so real 😭😭 i cant wait to see the break up one 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 hopefully u don’t plan on making it too angsty or anything :00

enhypen, break-up prank ꒰♡︎꒱ . ⁺

genre: fluff, a little emotional but not too angsty!

warnings: mentions of ending a relationship, nothing too much, jay’s is a text message oneshot

requested: yes!

pairing: enha x gn!reader

author’s note: of course, i didn’t plan for this to be too angsty, mainly all jokes! 😽💕

🔖 — heeseung.

instantly turns into a confused Bambi

doesn’t take you seriously at first

but then he’s kinda worried

a rollercoaster of emotions tbh

esp after you tell him it’s a prank

heeseung had noticed that you were acting weird all day. whenever he went to kiss you you didn’t kiss back, or when he talked to you your responses were short. he wasn’t sure what it was.

as he entered the room, he saw you sitting at the edge, scrolling through movies on the tv.

he sat on his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“love?” he called, your gaze not on him but you could feel his on you. you gave a half-hearted hum, eyes still on the tv.

“is there something wrong?”

“hee,” you started, putting the remote down. “i think we should break up.”

his heart sunk for a moment. that was so random, you weren’t serious right?

“babe,” he laughed a bit, taking your hand in his. “seriously, what’s wrong?”

you finally look down at him, a sour look on your face. his expression changed, doe eyes now sparkling up at you.

“did I.. did I do something?”

the prank didn’t last very long since you weren’t able to resist the look in his eyes.

“oh, baby,” you wrapped your arms around him, cooing. ok, now he was really confused..

“i was joking honey, i can’t leave you.”

that made his insides all fuzzy. but he was still indeed, confused.

🔖 — jay.

confused pt2

esp when you call him by his first name

is lowkey upset

he’s in denial

cause how are you gonna try to break up with THE park jongseong??

over text too??!

will not let you “break up” with him

🔖 — jake.

might actually break down in tears

he’s a bit emotional guys

is literally going through a list of things he did in his day to check if he did anything wrong

shut him up with kisses please before he starts panicking

definitely don’t try this prank on him again

“hey, babe-“ jake sat next to you on the couch, going in for a kiss. he stopped his sentence though, when you dodged the smooch he was about to give you.

“jake, omg this is why i wanna break up with you.” you playfully rolled your eyes. his turned into puppy ones, now leaning away from you slowly.

“w-what? did i do something? am i being too touchy? clingy? did i forget to put the seat down? did-“

he began to rant before you grabbed his face in both of your hands and brought your lips to his soft plump ones.

he made a confused noise but still melted into the kiss.

“I’m confused.” his words were muffled by your lips still on his, his hands coming to rest where yours remained on the sides of his face.

“i can never prank you.”

🔖 — sunghoon.

smug.

knows you’re not serious

cause once again, how are you gonna leave HIM?

does not take you seriously

“hoon, we should end this.” you said to him, leaning on the countertop in your kitchen. he stood at the stove, attempting to make dinner for the both of you.

“what, me trying not to burn dinner?” he chuckled a bit, that deep laugh making your cheeks warm. you tried not to get distracted by his charm and continue with the prank.

“no, our relationship.”

he snorted, not sparing you a glance, “y/n, please.”

“what?”

“you love me way too much to leave me. i’m just too handsome and lovable.” he shrugged, continuing to stir around dinner in his pan.

“you’re no fun, sunghoon.”

🔖 — sunoo.

ok?

then leave?

will not complain 😹

only cause he knows you’re not serious

if you were, he’d obviously talk to you abt it

but because he’s not fooled by your little jokes anymore he’s like fine 🤷🏽‍♀️

“sunoo, we should break up.”

“okay.” he responded from the sofa, scrolling through his phone. he didn’t even look up at you, just shrugging his shoulders when he answered.

“okay?” your mouth was agape as you laughed a bit.

“mhm. bye-bye.” he waved somewhere in your direction, still not looking up from his phone.

“SUNOO, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT FOR ME.”

“nah, im good.”

🔖 — jungwon.

is like wtf

wdym break up

what did he do?

lowkey has a hard time processing what you just said

you walk side by side with jungwon up to the library the two of you would be studying at. you stopped outside of the door, a faux pout on your face.

“what’s wrong, love?” jungwon stopped to look at your face as your gaze seemed to be on the ground.

you turned to him, “wonie, we need to break up.”

“what?” his eyebrows furrowed below his beanie. he shifted on one foot, eyes still on you as he tried to process the words that escaped your lips. the words he never, ever wanted to hear.

“we have to break up.”

“y/n, did you seriously bring me all the way here just to tell me that?” now he sounded irritated, his jaw clenching.

you finally looked up to see his expression, actually feeling bad now.

“no, baby, im just joking.” you hid your giggle with a small smile, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he sighed, shaking his head while mirroring your smile. he placed a hand on your head while the other came to wrap around you.

“come on, we’ve got some studying to do.”

🔖 — ni-ki.

wants to take you serious when he sees your face but he just can’t

ki is the prank master, he can see right through your little jokes

is like, “you? wanna leave me? yea ok 😹”

clowns you 100%

ni-ki plops on your bed, ready to share different details about your day when he notices your expression.

“what?” he lifts his head, propping himself on his elbows.

you sigh, not looking up, “i wanna break up.”

there was a loud silence before it was interrupted by ni-ki’s loud laugh. he cackled for a good while, grasping his stomach as you looked at him like he was crazy.

“are you really laughing right now?”

“i-im sorry, it’s just-“ he snorted, laughing even harder this time. you sat there, arms folded. you could never fool someone who could pull pranks better than you.

⟢ milan’s notes: another short reaction im sorry 😞

taglist: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura (message or comment to be added)

[swifty-fox]

I was so excited when I woke up to the Love Song from a Dog notification this morning! The parallel between Gale fantasizing about John and John fantasizing about Gale in the same bed was so well written that I actually went back and read that chapter in KFAK.

I was wondering if you think Gale would ever admit to John he feminized himself in those fantasies? Would John be into it?

I so appreciate that you don’t soften Gale as a character, I think he is often feminized in the head canons I see floating around. Which is fun and often sexy (and easy to do when you look like Austin Butler goddamn). But how you write Gale as well aware of societal roles and how he doesn’t conform to them (in that he doesn’t want John to view him as a woman) is such great characterization.

On the other hand maybe sometime down the line when they’re both more confident and comfortable in their relationship it might be something they explore.

I’ll be waiting in wonderful agony for the next two weeks for the next update!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

every time love song gets an ask an angel gets its wings....sometimes I wonder if anyone reads it dbskfjhgvf

But I love it. It's a really heavy fic to write and the next chapter is def gonna be rough. I might not have the mental fortitude to get to it until the holidays are over but!!! It's my baby.

Hahaaa yeah I was like narratively speaking he HAS to!! I love how their journeys with their sexuality are so parallel but sooo deeply different. Almost opposite in a way. Gale knows what he is but is so sexually repressed meanwhile John is so repressed about what he is but sexually is so open. That's almost the issue of their conflict in some ways. The things they need to work through are so conflicting.

I think for Gale his feminizing himself is less of a kink and more of a avenue of self loathing tbh. It doesn't sexually excite him, it's a weird self-flagellating safety net.

In Gale's eyes John doesnt like women. He'd never want Gale, but if Gale were a woman he would. And so he puts himself in these fantasies to both dissociate himself from it as well as almost like sexually punish himself? That's why in the aforementioned bed masturbation bit when he begins to fantasize about topping John it takes him out of the fantasy and he has to stop. it feels to real and too close and too scary. it's giving himself TOO much agency. Straight, Masculine John bottoming?? Impossible (Gale u fool)

To that degree I don't know if Gale would ever bring it up and if he did yes John would definitely find it arousing (he finds anything about Gale arousing lol) But I don't know if they would ever explore it because Gale is so... weird about his masculinity.

I think for me Gale is the more hypermasculine of the two. BECAUSE his masculinity feels sooooo performative. It's more of a shield or a mask he wears rather than John where he's more just...being himself and that happens to be very traditionally masculine. And to me I interpret that as someone (In Gale's case) who is DEEPLY insecure about said masculinity. Gale has issues with his gender presentation stemming from his sexuality and really he just needs to be dropped into a college sex & sexuality course and he might be fixed.

Unfortunately, it is 1946.

And thank you! If ur in the US I hope your holidays were good as well!

[moonshynecybin]

what would you consider essential marc and rosquez watching? i don’t mean races but the stuff happening around it, there seems to be so much and idk where to start 😭

BIG ass question. i think it depends what you want outta this and how you best interact with content slash consume information. for me (not to brag but. winner of multiple historical essay writing competitions in high school. for context on the kind of freak i am bringing to the table here.) the research is kind of the fun part ! like i just started googling shit! i would go to inactive blogs and just search 'marquez' on them to see what would happen ! a lot of the times that works ! but it also takes a lotttt of time lol so i'll chuck some good resources your way, why not...

okay im not sure how basic we're talkin here but um. background. so the documentaries are, i think. the best place to start. theyre entertaining and offer a good amalgamation of clips to provide context for the actual racing. and like i know you de-emphasized racing (which is fine lol who cares) but it really is like the most important thing in the world to these fools and its a pretty visual sport so i think its at least helpful. like yes sepang IS about the press conference, but its also about the conversation they have ON the race track using their motorcycles. which is also somewhat a conversation that they HAVE been having all year long...

i'd start with hitting the apex (2013), its a GREAT introduction to the "characters" that does a lot of legwork to contextualize everything. lays the scene for where vale is at coming into his relationship with marc (both personally, wrt to marco simoncelli, and career-wise concerning his flop at ducati), and also how insane marc's whole deal is in general. the second half is. materially a study on what him entering the premiere class did to the sport as a whole. the introductory chapter in many respects

marc marquez: all in. MY introduction and blissfully free online. marc comma in his own words, with all the implications of that. a self-produced documentary where he is giving feedback about the edit of said documentary straight to camera and no less vulnerable because of it which is very marc imo. revealing both intentionally AND unintentionally about his whole deal with injury, vale, and his image.

motogp unlimited. im gonna be real kind of boring. like i would still watch it ! but do it kind of later, once you know the major players so youre automatically more invested. it doesnt really give you more than marc says himself in all in tbh, and i get the sense him and vale were NAWWWT interested in doing more than the bare minimum for it.

marc's rookie doc. free and subtitled on the youtubes. the first half of this is deadass just him wanting to fuck vale so bad while every comment from vale has me saying GIRL. out loud because the foreshadowing would be genuinely shocking if this was fiction. anyways the laguna seca of it all....

next i would hit up PODCASTS ! i think it makes sense after the documentaries, because these are all podcasts that arent strictly about rosquez (even if they are in many ways the main characters lmao) and personally it helps to put faces to lesser known names that might pop up before i listen to a purely audio product and get lost in the soup of sounds. the paddock pass podcast has two retrospective episodes about the 2015 season that are really good at context, oxley bom pod has a fun recent episode on valentino that i love, again just poke around a lil

videos. these guys have never filmed a lot of content together tragically. what i wouldnt give for someone to make them do an escape room. anyways ranch visit HERE (post explaining the ranch visit here). sepang presscon (sowwy) here. vale unhinged podcast interview the month after marc's documentary came out here. vale retirement interview where he gets asked about marc here. vale talking about asking marc to the ranch here. vale postrace at argentina 2018 here. UCCIO postrace at argentina 2018 here. theres a lot moreeeee just go on my blog archive and filter for rosquez and vids its easier lol

journalism. hello. okay so you should genuinely spend some time reading through mat oxley's stuff he can write (theres a paywall but you can run that shit through wayback machine). he also loves an insane comparison which i do enjoy.... again this is one that can be solved by googling his name and tacking on 'marquez' or 'rossi' or a specific time period or race it will probably reap some dividends. in terms of specific ass articles this one is kind of load bearing in terms of sepang and some of the interpersonal competitive tensions at play. that being said there are manyyyyyy crazy interviews and snippents of articles from other journos floating around motogp tumblr (like literally too many to link) adn its fun to dig around to find them, but mat oxley gets a shoutout because i was reading this article TODAY !

other content. honestly one of the best resources I'VE found for plotting out the arc of their relationship is @kingofthering's everyrosquezpodium series. you can REALLY see it play out lol. also her tagging system rules she very neatly lays out years and races... so if something jumps out at you, CLICK ITTTT ! also all of @ricciardoes fave presscon moments series. insane.

all this to say a small little rpf fandom like this rewards some digging! i would just recommend following narrative threads that interest you ! its also a small fanbase that is pretty research oriented, so if youre ever confused about somethin, just shoot an ask or run a search on someone's blog (@kwisatzworld has endless vale resources and @batsplat is one of the most thorough researchers ive ever seen, for example) like for real theres so much... i also have a primer that i made forever ago that has some links on it so you can peruse that if you so wish. but frankly a lot of it is just using those research muscles and being sufficiently deranged enough to be screenshotting reddit threads at one am so you can post them to tumblr because they mentioned marc and vale in the same sentence and that lit up some of the neurons in your brain

(and i know you said outside of races but i think theyre good benchmarks as turning points soooo you should do some diggin on laguna seca 2013, jerez 2015, argentina 2015, ASSEN 2015, sepang 2015 obvi, argentina 2018, and misano 2019. those are the big tentpoles of insane rosquez relationship drama imo. i mean theres many more but. im limiting myself.)

[callmerhynner]

Wanna switch?

synopsis: A wish a psychic has chanted all his life gets granted, by a witch that just wants more answers. Regret seeps, but will something else too?

tags: bad elden german, witch!fem!reader, maybe ooc Kusuo, story building (if you squint), no idea tbh, slice of life (maybe?)

"Saiki, good timing buddy!" a purple-haired medium exclaims, seeing his friend, greeting with a up-high wave and a bright-lit smile.

"Nevermind" the psychic merely replies, turning his heels and walking away. The purple haired male doesn't take the hint, however, and wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He waves a letter at his face and start talking about how a pretty girl had finally become friends with him--he expects it to go farther, though.

Saiki looks at the letter he's waving begrudgingly, thinking of ways he could get away with killing the fool that was on his hunt for the coffee jelly he had seen in so many advertisements.

"It's not even addressed to you." he says. Toritsuka lets out a cartoon-ish shocked face and sighs in defeat. As the medium drops to his knees, the boy takes the letter in curiosity.

He regrets being curious more than he regrets taking that letter's offer.

Now, he was sat on the floor carpet, you continue meditating and keeping yourself reserved, though that wasn't going as good as you'd hoped seeing as a certain pink-haired psychic was watching you. You continue to keep humming, trying to block out the stare you could feel through your skin. After one more try, you let out an annoyed grunt and sent a glare at the boy.

"What do you want?" you say, brows furrowed.

"Don't get so pissed off at me, you're the one that invited me." he replies, pointing out your past conversation.

“I’m gonna kill that idiot.” you sigh, pinching off the candles’ wicks that circled you and standing yourself up. “I’m guessing your servant told you about my offer?”

"He's nowhere related with me." the psychic replies with the same monotone voice that piqued your curiosity

You stand in front of him, head tilted in thought as you measured him up and down. He stood quiet, surely reading your mind as you estimated his every noticeable detail.

"I'm guessing you already know why I invited you over?" You hum, walking past him and going over to your study desk, looking for something, by the looks of it.

"He mentioned." He says bluntly, with how fuzzy your mind was getting. He has been reading through your thoughts but it sounds as if it was broadcasted on a broken radio. If you didn't look so decent and well taken care of, the psychic would question if you had been drinking.

"I know you're psychic and all, and that--ugh, where is it." you groan, looking through each drawer and corner of the desk. "--and that you're probably hearing very thought in me right now."

"I do warn 'ya, not many can even understand this broken head I got up here." you chuckle lightly, knocking on the top of you skull before continuing to look for whatever it was you were looking for. "From what people like you tell me, my head sounds like a wounded doll or some 60s voicebox."

"What do you mean 'people like me'?" The pink-haired boy questions, eyebrows furrowed down.

"Did I say that? I don't remember." You just turn to face him with an innocent smile and a shrug. Turning your back again.

"Are there other psychics?" he sounded a lot more emoted when the topic was mentioned. He trued harder and harder to read through your thoughts, to no avail.

"I'll tell you about that later, for now... Aha! There you are, little prick." You exclaim, raising a large old-looking book with a gilded lock guarding it. "This will answer both of our questions..." you smile with a dark air surrounding you.

"If you're willing, of course." you add, looking up at the man in front of you. You let a hand out for him to grab, reluctantly he does. Your eyes squint as your smile grows bigger in excitement.

You open the book with a key you had tied to your necklace and skim through pages and pages until you see your desired spell. As if by magic, the candles were lit up once more, you and the psychic inside the lit circle back-to-back. You raise your arm as something resembling static buzzes around it, eyes going pale, you chant an ancient text from the book.

"In tiefen Schatten, weben Flüstern,

Tauschen wir Formen, unsere Seelen zu bewahren."

The room starts to fume and fog begins to puff in from the static's heat. The room's walls are barely seen with how thick the air is, from the posters to even the doorknob, nothing is noticeable. It's a wonder what your parents must think when about when you're up to these gimmicks.

"Dankbarkeit gelernt, in neuer Fleischlichkeit,

Lehre gegeben, für dich und mich."

You chant before the smoke begins to collect and wrap around each of your bodies, the pressure is tolerable yet uncomfortably tight. The psychic begins to cough when the clouds around his necks tighten and smoke chain begins to wrap his wrist linked to yours. He feels his feet lift, this was crazier than what he could have ever imagined.

'How powerful is this witch?!' he yells to himself as you both spin around. He shuts his eyes, wishing the worst on every soul he could think of that led him to this decision. And before he knew it, he was back on the floor, laid down on the hard wood floor. He skimmed the room, nothing.

It was as if nothing had happened, there were not smoke nor any traces of the witch's doing. He stood up, thinking he may have been pranked since nothing felt different, who was he kidding? A witch that could take away his powers? He should've never hoped anything to come of it.

He stood up, he expected the chatter of people's thoughts to clamor him as they usually did, when he heard nothing, his finger fiddled with his other hand to check his germanium ring.

"Huh..?" the air stood quiet, he stood still and the room was suddenly colder than the Antarctic. 'Where is it?'

The ring rolled in front of him, in shock, he looked up seeing a girl that looked his age stood above him. You just tilted your head down at him, smirking with a glint in your eye.

"You plan on laying there til the sun goes down or what?" you hum, lending a hand out for him to grab. He lifts himself up without your help and looks around the room once more.

"How does being average feel?" you ask, prompting yourself to sit on your chair.

"What did you do?" he says, but without his psychic abilities, there would be no way for you to even understand him further than that glare he was putting out.

"Hm?" you sound out, clearly confused before getting the hint that he still remains in denial of his powers no longer with him. "I can't read your thoughts, nor can you make me understand yours."

"What?" he still doesn't seem to get it.

"Talk." you simply put. "Talk with your mouth, you can't talk to me telepathically anymore." You pioint at your lips as you speak, his eyes bulge out before he finally opens his mouth.

"What did you do to me?" he asks, incriminatingly, even with his feet positioned as if he was ready to throw down a fight.

"Your wish, was it not?" you say, tone stating as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're no longer a psychic, just a simple, average, and mostly un-unique boy from a small city school."

"Aren't you happy, Saiki?" you say, the smile in your face soon showing in your voice.

to be continued...

Part 2

[starberry-cupcake]

I have made up from last time that was about only one chapter, this time we have 5 in a row. We finished act one, fam!

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

I want to also thank you for all your nice comments and replies, I read every single one, I promise ♥

ch. 7 to 11 summarized terribly, here we go:

it's time to cross the river

difficult task to perform

as someone who lives literally surrounded by rivers, in every direction, I can relate

my rivers don't carry ghouls though, as far as I know

I mean, there are ghost and cryptid legends, but not ghouls that stick to the windshield of a spaceship like bugs

like these ones do

so harrow and yandere twin aren't doing fantastic

yandere twin loses it in like the first 2 seconds

harrow sees the ghosts of all the ninth kids who died for her to be alive

there's water also, but that part sounds very relaxing, actually

getting covered by water but not needing to breath

I'd be there forever tbh

but we can't, because ghoulies

mercygirl is still doing sound effects like kronk

btw we're changing her name to mercygirl because it's what I've been calling her now

I have been told by a number of you that mercygirl is your camilla so I apologize for disrespecting your blorbina

I might do it again, if the situation arises, though

mercygirl is piloting the ship and emperor the fool is just chillin' until he realizes harrow is walking about and doing theorems, which they didn't think she'd be in a state to do, so they didn't tell her not to do it

these people half-assing plans, who would have thought

mercygirl calls the emperor john

emperor johnnyboy tries telling harrow to come back from her state because she's in too deep and it's becoming dangerous

mercygirl stars talking about the death of cassiopeia (another name that's easy to remember)

says cassiopeia had a ceramics collection, which makes her worthy of all my respect

harrow was thinking "five", idk what it's about

next thing we know, we're back to our gideonless retelling of gideon

in this version, teacher explains things

he says the house was inhabited previously by "ten normal human beings of the Resurrection, though half were blessed already with necromantic gifts"

I'm tired of MATH

he says they left blueprints, he tells them about the Sleeper, he tells them how not to awaken it, he tells them about the trap door, he tells them what's under the trap door, he asks them to work together...

you know what this is like

it's like reading gideon was entering a new game and skipping every tutorial they give you

and reading this is like clicking every NPC's info and reading all that they say

ANYWAY, here is where ortus 1...

wait, this is going to be confusing

I want to call ortus from the ninth "ortus 1" and the new guy "ortus 2"

because ninth ortus was the first to show up

but new ortus is actually older and also is ortus the first

we're gonna go with ortus and lyctor!ortus, for now

so, as I was saying, this is were ortus starts becoming much more insistent in these "flashbacks" about him not being the right choice

which, he's not wrong

we know he's not wrong

and harrow is saying stuff like "unless you can summon matthias nonius" (matthias nonius is becoming a recurrent thing, let's remember harrow compared gideon to him at one point)

and ortus goes "I don't understand why you chose me" to which harrow says "there was nobody else" and ortus exasperatedly says "you never did posses an imagination"

VERY IMPORTANT THING

a skeleton turns around when they're walking and says "is this how it happens?"

we'll come back to that shortly

REMEMBER IT

(I know you all remember it, you've read this already, just act like I'm dora the explorer and play along)

next chapter starts in not!dulcinea's funeral

I'm sad I used the oliver queen grave meme already, I can't use it again to express my feelings

I'm gonna use the steel magnolias scene where they laugh at the funeral instead

so, we are introduced to the famous augustine who's name I will remember

there's some conversation about first and second generations and about not!dulcinea being chosen, and Emperor Johnny Bravo says "we were all there to meet her, all sixteen of us"

MORE MATH

I guess she was the last one of these, but maybe we knew that already, I feel we knew that already

apparently, not!dulcinea was the most reluctant to slurp her cavalier, but that didn't stop any of them, not even her, so

Emperor Johnny Quest says "for god's sake" and harrow thinks "the god who became a man and yet still invoked himself, apparently"

when she's right, she's right

that's better commentary than I could make

I have to respect augustine a little bit because he asked "which one of the kiddies did her in?" and I thought that was hilarious

he is called the saint of patience, which makes my previous comment about them being named via sarcasm very correct

it's like captain planet or the power rangers but chosen as funnily as possible

they start summoning lyctor!ortus by saying that he's interested in "you-know-what", which is both suspicious and childish and the vibes of these lyctors are all over the place

augustine thinks something's wrong, which is an understatement at this point, but ok

lyctor!ortus comes in as if summoned by the gossip and harrow calls him "the next terrible part of your life" which is saying something

lyctor!ortus comes with news of the seventh beast or whatnot that's trailing them

harrow bleeds from her ears and smashes her head on the next available surface to pass out

the mood

who could blame her

this lyctor job is terrible

it's like the end of drop dead gorgeous and harrow is kristen dunst

I'm not explaining that, in case you haven't watched a classic

we are back to the "flashbacks" and we've got a special appearance from the fifth

*studio audience claps and cheers*

they say they prefer to look into books than going downstairs, which is something one would consider if one had known what the fuck was downstairs from the start

abigail also does sound effects like mercygirl, it's catching on

abigail finds a piece of a recipe note that mentions an M and a Nigella

still no G&P

we know nigella is the cav of cassiopeia, the ceramics collector

I remember nigella's name because of the cook, which makes it funnier that it's a recipe

M could be mercygirl

abigail also gives harrow a note

abigail says that she'd like to summon the ghost of a lyctor but she's not sure how that could work or where they go when they die

ortus, magnus and abigail, in this gideonless version, are a polycule

I am convinced of that

while they're talking, magnus says "is this really how it happens?"

REMEMBER I SAID WE'D BRING THAT BACK

IT'S BACK

abigail starts telling harrow that she's got the energy of a lot of dead kids in her and harrow storms out

harrow gets angry when ortus calmly agrees about things and she doesn't want to look into why

I WONDER WHY THAT IS

harrow looks at abby's note again and now there's text on it

it's a longer version of the note she found before

it's a rant

it mentions dead eggs, implantation, some guy being sent after the OP, said guy taking pity on OP

OP is mad about all of this and doesn't use punctuation

what ortus reads isn't what harrow reads, once again

NOW THIS BIT

"ortus, I need a cavalier with a backbone" "You always did and I am glad, I think, that I never became that cavalier"

the gideon points keep adding up

harrow then goes to sleep and is like this

final thing in act I, in chapter 11, is harrowbean stabbing not!dulcinea again, which

always make sure, it's like resident evil in here

just in case, let's stab her a bunch of times

so, are these "flashbacks" happening in real time whenever harrow isn't conscious?

is it her trying to remember what actually happened?

or is it her trying to hide it?

was there actually a longer period of time between the defeat of not!dulcinea and the emperor Jon Arbuckle coming to pick them up?

a period of time in which harrow learned things that made her write those letters?

and in which something happened regarding gideon?

is the note of the implantation also related?

why was gideon born in space?

of course I'm not asking you, please don't spoil anything, I'm just asking the void of desperation and chaos right now

we'll see if any of this gets answered soon or if I just get more questions

also, guess who wasn't mentioned

see you on the next one!! I'll try to get back to the awesome replies I've been getting soon ♥

[panelshowsource]

my IMMEDIATE thought is judi love, right?? her and roisin 1000% not even one show each, A SHOW WITH THEM TOGETHER 😍 and it's called JUDI & ROISIN'S DOUBLE DATES 😍

hahahaha absolutely! do you remember the stationary shop / pun guessing task that tim vine did on taskmaster s6? i always thought victoria would have enjoyed every single thing about that, just my intuition...

hahahaha this is so cute! they got married not to terribly long ago, so no worries. don't you love how sweetly they speak about each other 🥹 you know, when i saw richard at his last book signing in new york, he told a quick story about how ingrid had recently written for a doctor who publication and that she is super engrossed in & proud of the doctor who world 🥹🥹🥹 (made me so happy!!! bc i'm also a massive dw fan (i make those gifs on my main!) 🥹)

this is my modest richard and ingrid tag 🥹 i hope to flesh it out even more over time hehe

yes i've been listening to these!! they keep teasing a nish kumar one coming up that is supposed to be very special in some way?

anyways the richard osman one was very sweet because there was tons of kitten talk (LOVE) and you can tell how much richard adores david — which means he had a lot of fun teasing him hahaha that's what makes richard such a good podcast guest: he's such a comedy fan!

also enjoyed the eps with ivo and sam campbell, and i'm gonna listen to at least ed gamble, rose matafeo, and amy gledhill this weekend!

are you guys liking it??

i've def seen it (i saw the comedy blogs advertising the pilot) but i'm gonna be sooo honest and say i haven't had time to give it a listen yet TT have you?? i'm obsessed with both of them and will DEF listen to it this week! i'll post my thoughts :)

honestly, i think there are more comedy writers and comedy actors than proper comedians that i would like to read bios of. simon pegg comes to mind first! i also think it would be fascinating to read a kind of day-by-day journal of a proper circuit comedian, someone who could humorously and truthfully document the lifestyle. did you have someone in mind who hasn't written one?

as for books that are already published, i really want to read bonkers by jen saunders as well as richard e grant's semi-new autobiography (i'm worried it's going to be exceptionally sad since he'll always be dealing with the passing of his wife and he's very open about grief 🥺), so hopefully i get around to those before too long!

i haven't, tbh i never watched miranda, not going out, or even call the midwife — so even though i've obviouslyyy seen her around, sometimes on panel shows, and absolutely acknowledge how big she was/is, i don't carry enough nostalgia to read her whole bio. THAT SAID, i agree she was so so touching on graham norton and i think her stories both about her health and about finding love were SO LOVELY 💜 but if you tell me it's a must read then i'll definitely check it out!

and for anyone who's interested i added the audiobook to my drive :)

okay this scared me HAHAHA because as much as that is obviously not true if one uses a single modicum of common sense i am so easily fooled—

anyways it was a sweet episode! i don't really listen to that show but i was hoping to hear more about joe's particular approach to parenting, and even though he is clearly very private it was endearing. i love how much he loves birmingham (as someone who doesn't really have a hometown it's something i'm always fascinated by and envious of in others), and he really put his foot down about his sexuality! he was like "bi is bi, pan is pan, it's on you if you wanted to call me gay anyways" and PERIOD KING !! anyways, super happy for him. i have a feeling he won't post very much about it or even talk much about it in general, but i selfishly hope he does 🥹

it was a cute episode!! highlights for me include rob being extremely new to the concept of kimchi, rob claiming he doesn't understand why people care so much about seasoning (my fellow americans, have fun with that one), and rob roasting steve coogan lmaooo also i never get sick of the alan bennett impression i love how it's almost tom courtenay it's hilarious to me

i've loved a lot of the recent eps, especially the ones with matthew macfadyen and richard e grant (funniest man alive)! and i watched the gordon ramsay episode like 5 times, it was sooo interesting and soooooo sweet to hear about his relationship with angela!

one thing i really like about this show — besides how awesome angela is — is that nick asks the genuine questions someone who isn't big into cooking would ask. like, when they were eating the rib eye, he was like, "if someone wanted to make this at home, what would they ask the butcher for? is this a specific cut of meat?" and even though it's like 'lol yeah nick...rib eye...' people who aren't familiar with cooking beef wouldn't have known that! he asks about cuts, measurements, cooking times, that sort of thing in a way that feels genuine and curious, which i appreciate (as someone who doesn't cook a lot lmao)

for sure!

hello anon! these are always posted on reddit every single night that they air, i recommend sending a polite "hello would you kindly add me to the sub?" message (you don't need to get fancier or more specific than that; they have to keep the sub private for obvious reasons so no need to feel intimidated) to r/TV_NCA so you can snag those links each week

sure anon i'll work on that for you this weekend xx

—

PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS / NON-PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS FAQ / ASK

[rafyki]

Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 8!

Hi, sorry for the wait!! I was a little in doubt about if making this chapter in Percy's or Nico's POV, tbh, but in the end I decided that we're back to Percy! I always enjoy writing him being all smitten and in love <33

Enjoy~

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You can also read it on AO3!!

~~~~

Percy had been looking at his phone for what felt like hours, staring at the empty message box and the name written on top, trying to find something, anything, to write that wouldn't sound extremely lame.

He knew his friends were looking at him, probably thinking he was the most ridiculous lovesick fool they had ever seen - which was fair, honestly, because Percy did feel like he was one second away from screaming into the void and starting to roll around on the cafe’s floor. 

So, yes, he was a lovesick fool - but a lovesick fool with his crush's number now safely saved into his phone.

Crush.

It had been two days since his meeting with Nico at the beach, and for the whole time Percy had felt like the word wasn't right, wasn't nearly heavy enough to embrace the way he felt. When he had told Annabeth, she had looked at him and smiled.

“I can see that, Percy, but you do realize you barely know him, don't you?”

It was true, of course it was - yet it didn't matter.

Percy could still feel the warmth of Nico's hand in his like it was engraved on his skin. The need to hold it again was almost overwhelming, Percy could feel himself going crazy for it.

They had held hands, and it had felt like Nico hadn't wanted to let go either, that he had wanted to make the contact last as long as possible just like Percy had.

Percy wanted to text him. But what do you even write to the guy who's been haunting your mind for the past few months and who you aren't exactly friends with but at the same time it feels like you're so much more?

“Hi, it's Percy, how are you?” 

Yeah, no, that was lame. 

“Hey, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Too forward, definitely not.

Percy groaned, frustrated.

“I swear to god, Jackson, if you don't stop staring at that phone right now, I'm gonna kick you out of this place”.

Thalia's voice pulled him violently out of his thoughts.

“This is a public space, Thalia, you can't kick me out”, he replied without even looking at her.

“Oh yeah, watch me”.

Percy only looked up at her when a kick did actually hit his legs under the table.

“Ehi!”

Thalia smirked down at him. “Told ya”, she said. “I can't believe I only come here like two times a year - and when I do, you're too busy to look at your phone to actually talk to me? That's low, Jackson”.

Percy rolled his eyes, but the pull in his guts let him know that he did feel guilty. He sighed and finally put his phone down, straightening himself and going back to sip his coffee. Not that he would apologize to Thalia, but he could admit to himself that she was right; and after all, if he put aside for a moment his current concern, he really was happy to see her. It had been months since the last time they had the chance to hang out together like this.

“Don't mind him, Thalia”, Annabeth jumped in. “He just got his dream boy's number! And now he's trying to figure out what to write to him”.

She said it like it was ridiculous, but Percy remembered how happy she had been for him when he had told her about the events of two days ago, so he didn't take it to heart.

“His what!?”, Thalia almost screamed, accompanying every word with a painful slap on Percy's shoulder. “Why don't I know anything about this! How could you guys not tell me, come on!”

He swatted her hand away. “Ouch, ow, ow, okay, alright!”

“I can't believe this! I can't even remember the last time you had a crush”.

“Yeah, well”, Percy said, and lowered his eyes. “Doesn't really feel like a crush, anymore”. 

“Oh woah, then it must be serious”, she said. “Come on, tell me everything”.

And so he told her - told her about the first time he saw the pretty goth boy working at the beach kiosk, about how long he had spent just looking at him. Trying to leave out the most embarrassing parts was no use because of course Annabeth had to jump in to point out how ridiculous he had been the whole time and how much he had panicked to just go and talk to him to buy something, and obviously she couldn't leave out his plan to impress Nico with his fantastic surfing moves.

“Annabeth, stop making me look like a loser!”

“I'm not making you look like a loser, Seaweed brain, I’m just telling the truth!”.

Percy kept talking, and he kept thinking about Nico, and he knew that he had the most enamored smile painted on his lips as he spoke. He talked and he couldn't stop because, god, he did love to talk about him.

They had only seen each other the previous day and Percy missed him already. He definitely needed to find the courage to text him - perhaps he didn't need to think too much about it, maybe a simple hey how are you would do, after all.

He wondered if Nico was doing the same, looking at his phone and trying to find something to write to him, or maybe waiting and hoping for a text to arrive.

He was so focused on recounting everything that he didn't notice the way Thalia's expression went from curious to surprised, then to confused, and finally to pensive.

“Wait, what did you say this guy's name is?”

Percy stopped in his rambling. “Nico, his name’s Nico”, he said, and finally noticed how Thalia seemed to be deep in thought. “What’s that face?”

It took a moment for her to reply. “Nico as in… Nico Di Angelo?”

Percy stopped and looked at her like she had grown a second head. “What?”

Next to him, he heard Annabeth’s voice echoing the same sentiment.

“What are you talking about?”

“Goth boy, shortie, long hair and lots of piercings, doesn’t seem like he own anything but black clothes, looks like he doesn’t know how to smile-”

“Hey, I’ll let you know that he has the prettiest smile you could ever imagine!”

Thalia waved him off at the same time that Annabeth said “Yes that does sound exactly like him”.

“And he works at the beach kiosk with a blond guy?”

A long moment of silence passed during which Percy kept staring at Thalia as her words kept swarming around in his head, blinking at her trying to process what she had just said. 

It couldn’t be, could it?

“You know him!?”

Percy could feel his heart run around in his chest, pumping blood loudly in his ears.

That felt so much like fate. 

“Huh, kind of?”, Thalia said. “I saw him a couple of times when I went to visit my brother”.

“Your brother?”, Annabeth asked.

Thalia nodded, smiling. “The blond guy working at the kiosk. That’s my brother, Jason”.

Another moment of silence passed before Percy finally came to his senses. “What the hell, why didn’t you tell us!”

This time, it was his turn to swat Thalia’s arm over and over. She hit back with just as much strength.

“Ow, why would I tell you! I didn’t even know you guys went to that beach - see, your fault you don’t tell me anything!”

Percy could feel Annabeth rolling her eyes at their antics.

But he had more pressing things to think about. He couldn’t believe it- really? 

It was so stupid, feeling giddy for something like this, but Percy couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips. They were connected.

You’re so ridiculous, Percy Jackson, so ridiculous, he told himself, as his heart danced in his chest.

“Nico Di Angelo”, he murmured to himself. 

He knew his friends were looking at him ready to laugh at him. He looked at Annabeth. “See? I told you he must be an angel!”

They did laugh at him at that, and Percy felt so light he joined them. 

“You really are so ridiculous, Seaweed Brain”.

“Hey, can’t a man be a little in love?”

They stopped in their laughter to stare at him, and it took Percy a moment to realize what he had said. He felt himself blush - he hadn’t even admitted it to himself yet, yet the words had felt way too natural on his tongue, leaving his lips without him even thinking about it.

“Percy….”

“I know”, he cut her off, looking away. For some reason, his hand felt warm. “I know, I don’t know him all that well and it’s too soon. But… that’s why I said a little”.

“So you like him for real, huh?”. Thalia asked. The look in her eyes was earnest in a way that Percy wasn’t very used to. He and Thalia had been friends for a long time now, but it wasn’t often that they ended up talking seriously to each other.

Percy nodded. He really didn’t think he had ever liked anyone like he liked Nico before.

“Now, I don’t know him too well”, Thalia said. “But Jason told me once that it took him a pretty long time to get close to him ‘cause Nico isn’t an easy person - so, from what I know and from what you told me, I can say that you are an exception to this rule”.

Percy’s heart was running miles.

He thought about Nico so easily talking to him, smiling at him, thought of him asking about him out of worry, of him taking his hand and getting in the ocean with him despite his fear of it.

“I can ask Jason about him, if you want. But”, Thalia continued, pointing a finger at him. “You better text him - today”.

~~

When he went home that evening, the phone felt heavy in his head.

He would see Nico tomorrow anyway, he didn’t have to text him, he could easily wait until he could talk to him face to face. Or he could simply wait until tomorro’s evening and see if Nico would be at the beach after his shift again. He could.

It didn’t feel like the right thing to do. It felt like the coward way out, the one that wouldn’t lead to anything more.

And so, before he could think too much about it, he pressed send.

Me: Ehi, Nico! You have the afternoon shift tomorrow, right? Let’s hang out at the beach again after it?

[thrawns-babygirl]

Making Eyes (Tech x F!Reader)

Hello Tech Girlies (GN)

So! A lot of emotions are running high after yesterday huh? I totally understand TBH, while I am a Crosshair Girlie at heart, I do also adore Tech and I can empathize with some of the emotions yall are going through.

This was so much fun to write and it turned into the longest thing I have ever written so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

And yes, Phee is in this story but she is like, the ultimate wing woman dw, fully platonic.

Rating: E (18+) Summary: Tech has been giving you eyes forever now, and Phee takes it upon herself to help him talk to you Warnings: Oral (M!Receiving), grinding, unprotected PiV, Creampies Word Count: 4300+

Masterlist

Tech was staring at you. Again.

I was a daily occurrence at this point, whenever you would visit Cid’s Parlour you would hang out with Omega, bring Wrecker some food, play a couple games of Dejarik or Sabacc with Echo or simply have a few drinks with the boys. It was a nice piece of normalcy for the squad of rogue clones. It was nice having a friend.

“You know, starin’ at her isn’t gonna get her to talk to you” Phee sat down on the stool next to tech, placing a hand on his shoulder as she took a sip of her drink. Tech sighed, lips tightening to a thin line as he took one last look at you before turning to the pirate. Sorry, liberator of ancient artifacts.

“I do not understand your obsession with getting her and I to talk” Tech replied taking a sip of his drink, eyeing you over the rim of the glass. Phee just chuckled “because you got it bad Brown Eyes” polishing off her drink and motioning the bar tender to bring her another she stared him down. It was so painfully obvious to everyone that Tech did indeed ‘have it bad’ for you but he just… had no idea what to do, and Tech never had no idea what to do. He was the one with the plans, back up plans and back up plans for those back up plans, but when it came to you his mind simply… stopped working.

“Look, its painful watching you make eyes at her across the bar every time she comes in, you should just go up and talk to her. Talking is your specialty, there’s gotta be somethin’ that brain of yours can come up with to woo her” Tech frowned. It’s not like he hadn’t tried coming up with something to say to you it was just… he was never properly socialised to interact with women, so far Cid and Phee were the only adult women he had interacted with for an extended period of time outside of the likes of Nala Se and the Kaminoans. He knew, in theory, what he could say to you, but he had no practical data to go off of. He had been involved in maybe two or three one night stands before the fall of the Republic, and they were almost always rushed, semi pleasurable ways to blow off steam. He's never been worried about rejection before. And the thought of you rejecting him sent cold shocks of fear rushing down his spine.

Phee sighed… this was gonna take more work than she thought. “I simply… Do not know what to do” he mumbled, it was always hard for Tech to admit when he didn’t know something, it was his sole purpose in life to know things, to always have answers and solutions. The tightness in his chest and the weight in his stomach was something he was very much not used to, even while on a battlefield knee deep in mud with driods closing in on all sides he had never felt this amount of uncertainty.

“You just gotta work the charm, tell her she looks pretty, ask about her day… that kinda thing. Ask her to play a game of dejarik and strike up a conversation that way… and don’t look now but she’s coming over this way” Tech choked on his drink, coughing spilling some of the contents on his pants. Great now he looks like a fool.

When he turned around, he saw you stifling a giggle as you slid onto the stool on the other side of Phee, asking the bartender for a drink. “Hey sugar, what are you up to this time of night” Phee makes such easy conversation with you, it makes him jealous. Why couldn’t he just find the words, why couldn’t he swallow his fear and just talk to you. He can talk for hours about anything. If only you would ask him about the components of a hyperdrive or about the capacitors or about-

“Wow is that true Tech?” Tech is ripped from his thoughts as he looks over at you, you’re smiling at him with wide, beautiful, eyes. “Pardon?” he asks lamely, inwardly kicking himself for not paying attention. “I was just telling her about the races on Safa Toma” Phee smirks over at him, bringing her drink up to her lips before inclining her head as if to say ‘go on’.

“Yes I did partake in the Riot Races on Safa Toma multiple rotations ago. It was on a whim in order to help Cid settle some debts” your eyes widen slightly. Okay maybe he could do this. He inwardly thanks Phee before launching into the specifics of why he was racing, what happened with Tey-0, the modifications on his racer he had to do prior to the race, his strategies and to his surprise you were listening with bated breath, hanging on every word he was saying. Your elbows resting on the bar, drink long forgotten as the hours dragged on. From there the conversation flowed naturally, reminding himself of what Phee had said he asks you about your day, about what you were doing at work, your last few games of dijarek against Echo. He listens as you lament about not being able to beat his brother “perhaps I could show you some strategies. I have played multiple games against Echo and could show you not only specific manoeuvres that would work against him specifically, but also the game as a whole” your smile makes his insides melt.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in for the night, I’ll see you two around” Phee places a hand on both of Tech’s and your shoulders before standing up and walking towards the door, giving a polite wave to the other batchers as she exits. Leaving Tech alone with you. His thoughts catch up with him again without having Phee as a buffer, would you still be interested in talking to him? Just him? Would he even know what to say?

“So, what else do you do for fun? I only ever see you all hanging around here” your smile is so genuine. He would have to thank Phee later for laying the groundwork for him as conversation continues to flow smoothly, effortlessly almost. Much to his surprise you actually do ask him about hyperdrives and how they operate, telling him about how you always wanted to be a mechanic, but the universe had other plans for you. He’s never been more enraptured with anyone than he is with you right now. You listen to his every word, asking questions, enjoying his answers, giggling at his dry wit.

It's only when he notices that there is no one else in the parlour anymore that he checks his chrono and balks at the time. You sigh “Maybe I should get going, I know that Cid doesn’t like just anyone staying after she closes” you stretch your arms above your head as you stand up and Tech can’t help the way his eyes run down your body as you move. Tech is not a spiritual man, he is a man of science, but he believes that you are the closest thing to a goddess that he will ever encounter.

“It is very late, perhaps I should accompany you back to your domicile” he gets off his stool, motioning towards the door. You hesitate slightly before nodding, a slight dusting of colour on your cheeks. “I would very much like that, Tech” you smile at him again. And by the stars he swears it is a sight he would never tire of.

The walk back to your apartment is mostly spent in companionable silence, sometimes one of you would make an observation to the other, but otherwise it is nice. Comfortable even. You, however are entirely oblivious to Tech’s internal struggle. He wants nothing more than to tell you everything he’s feeling, divulge his every emotion to you as you walk next to one another down the quiet streets of Ord Mantell. He just wishes he could find the words, tell you enough without telling you too much, without frightening you off with the sheer depth of what he feels for you. Every now and then your hands brush, fingers grazing slightly as you continue walking. He expects you to pull away, he expects you to recoil but you don’t. So, like the inquisitive man he is, he continues brushing his hand against yours, periodically at first before making the action seem more intentional, watching you out of the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction to the contact.

After the third or fourth obviously intentional graze of his hand against yours you surprise him by intwining your fingers with his, silently, your eyes never once leaving the path ahead of you. Tech’s brain completely fries. He has no idea where to go from here, maker he never thought he would even get this far with you and now he is in uncharted territory. Once again at a complete loss for words, it takes a moment for him to realise that you have come to a stop in front of an apartment building. Your hand leaves his and while it’s not a cold night he misses your warmth already. He wishes he could simply hold your hand forever and never let you go. He has never really been a fan of other people touching him, he has been actually quite touch averse his whole life, but something about the softness of your skin and the meaning of the contact has him longing for more.

“This is me” you say with a small smile, you look almost embarrassed, and it takes Tech a moment to figure out why “We… we passed this location approximately 20 standard minutes prior” he says with a raised eyebrow. You shuffle from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact as you blush all the way from your neck to the tips of your ears. “I uh… I wanted to keep spending time with you” you let out a small laugh, still looking anywhere but him as you approach you door. “Would you… would you like to come in?” your hopeful smile is breathtaking, if only you knew how unnecessary all of your nerves were, if only you knew how much he too wanted to continue spending tonight with you, as well as every night beyond this one.

Kriff… the realisation hits him like a speeder. You may actually… return his feelings. You could potentially be interested in pursuing him… romantically. His thoughts grind to a halt as he realises he still has not responded to you, your face becoming slightly crestfallen as you presume his lack of answer is a refusal. “Yes! Yes of course… I would uh love to” inwardly cringing at the volume and excitement present in his voice Tech clears his throat as you lead him inside your home. If he is honest with himself he is very curious to look around your home, to learn a little bit more information about you without seeming too eager, eyes darting around to take in as many details as he can.

Your living space is tidy and modest, a well-worn couch, a small kitchen area, a door leading off to what he assumes to be a bedroom as well as a holo projector on the wall facing the couch. Shelves hold up various holos of what looks to be you and your family and friends. It brings a smile to his face as he looks around getting this insight into the way you live, the life you lead, you as a person.

“Caf? I know it’s late but you seem like the kinda guy who lives off the stuff” you ask, he chuckles and nods “sorry its only the crappy instant stuff, work has been kinda slow recently” you begin pouring the powdered caf into two mugs before boiling some water. “No apologies necessary, I have lived off military rations and bad caf my whole life, I am very used to it by now” the smile on his face grows as he watches you work, observing your small idiosyncrasies as you go, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you pour the water, focusing on not burning yourself, fanning the steaming cups with your hands before adding a small amount of sweetener to both cups and bringing them over towards Tech who is still standing in the middle of your living space.

“Feel free to take a seat, I know it’s not much but it’s home” you smile and Tech has the overwhelming urge to take your face in his hands and connect his lips with yours. Would you allow that? Would you want that from him? You seem to be showing interest but he has no way of knowing how far you are willing to go, did you want him romantically or were you just being friendly and hospitable?

The two of you make easy conversation, sipping on your caf and enjoying each other’s company as the projector plays a muted holo in front of you. You slowly edging closer to him on the couch until your sides are pressed against each other. Tech finished his caf a long time ago, but is hesitant to place his mug down on the table in front of him, if he does he has no reason to stay here, he has no reason not to go back towards the parlour and his brothers and leave you for the night. Your eyes scan over the aurebesh subtitles of the holo in front of you. “I’ve seen this holovid at least a dozen times. It’s about a group of smugglers trying to make a better life for themselves. Makes me think of you and your brothers a little bit” you lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making Tech’s hear beat faster, his hands becoming clammy as he takes a leap of faith and moves his hand over your shoulder, letting you move closer into his side.

You press your body as close to him as you can, and Tech decides then and there that should he die tonight, he will die the happiest man in the galaxy. He slowly begins soothing circles over your shoulder as the two of you continue watching the vid in front of you, now with the sound turned up slightly. The scene where one of the smugglers kisses the woman he is in love with flashes in front of him and he is once again flooded with the indescribable urge to press his lips against yours. You fail to stifle a yawn as you rest against him and Tech looks down at you, eyes half lidded, totally content.

“I think perhaps it is time that I made my departure. You appear to be quite fatigued and I am sure my brothers are wondering as to my whereabouts” the moment the words leave his mouth he regrets it, watching as your content demeanour is tinged with a hint of sadness. He simply did not wish to overstay his welcome. He opens his mouth to perhaps ask you to dinner tomorrow night when his com chimes. Cursing under his breath he answers.

“Tech? Where are you? Do you know what time it is?” Hunter seems slightly panicked and Tech feels a twinge of guilt about not telling his brothers where he was going, he was simply so caught up in spending time with you that it slipped his mind to let his brothers know that he was leaving with you to walk you home.

“Yes, my apologies Hunter I was just out having a walk and simply lost track of the time, I shall be back within the next hour” Tech felt your move out from under his arm and longed for your contact again.

“Just having a walk huh… sure, well I’m sure you can tell me all about your walk when you get back. No need to hurry just comm if you’re going to be later than an hour” Tech replies in the affirmative before shutting off his com. Hunter knows something, perhaps he saw you two leaving together from the parlour? Maybe he heard the soft sound of the Holoprojector in the background, either way he was in for some brotherly banter when he got back.

He turns to you, not realising how close together you were. His eyes dart down to your lips and he watches as yours do the same. His mind fries again, does he make a move? Do you want that? Everything so far tonight has been highly indicative that you are interested in him romantically but what if-

His thoughts are cut off as you place your lips softly on his before pulling back and looking into his eyes with a soft smile. His face is flushed, his lips are slightly parted as he breathes heavily. He is almost certain that you can hear his heart thudding against his rib cage due to how fast it’s beating and before he can give himself a chance to second guess his decision, he moves his hands up to your face and presses his lips against yours with all the passion that he can muster. He’s not an overly experienced kisser but he is a very quick learner, he lets you take the lead before he gets more comfortable, lips moving against yours in a passionate dance as you tangle your hands into his hair before reluctantly pulling back for air.

Your kiss swollen lips spread into a smile as half lidded eyes stare up at him “I hope that was alright” you say as if that wasn’t something Tech has wanted to do since he met you all those rotations ago. “That was more than alright… that was perfect, you are perfect” You move in to kiss him again, and again and again as you slowly move on top of him so that you are straddling him on the couch, parting briefly to catch your breath before continuing your heated session. Tech has been hard since you first placed your lips on his but the pressure of you sitting atop him has him acutely aware of his predicament. You grind your hips down against the hardness straining against his pants and Tech breaks the kiss to let out a sinful moan of your name, bucking his hips against yours, greedy for the feeling of you. You look up at him with lust blown eyes, panting slightly as you move your hips against his clothed erection. “Let me know if we’re moving too fast…” you mumble out as your lips move to his neck sucking dark marks onto the skin there as your hips continue their sinful movement against his. “Of course mesh’la” he pants, hands finding their way to your hips to help guide your movements against him as his head falls against the back of the couch “but I assure you there is nothing we could do tonight that I haven’t been dreaming about since I met you”

You begin working on the fastenings of his vest, pulling it open as he moves to assist you in removing the fabric from his body before your hands find their way underneath the hem of his shirt, toying with it before he grabs it and pulls it over his head leaving his upper body completely bare before you. You knew he was a soldier, but you never expected him to be quite this built. His chest and arms nothing but lean muscles and while you are busy staring down at his perfectly sculpted body, he begins ridding you of your clothing, pulling your shirt over your head and moving his hands around your back to the fastening of your bra before hesitating for a moment “M-may I?” his stutter is endearing as you nod and feel his nimble fingers work against the offending garment leaving you totally topless before him.

He pauses for a moment, simply taking in the sight before him, committing it to memory before slowly lifting his hands to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, rolling and tweaking your nipples causing you to arch against him. You hear him speak in hushed whispers, a language you don’t understand before he lowers his lips to one of your pebbled nipples and places it in his mouth. Lathing is tongue against it, sucking and licking before releasing it with a soft ‘pop’ and giving the same attention to your other breast, his hips bucking up against your core the entire time.

After his lips release your nipple, he looks up at you through his yellow tinted goggles “I must admit mesh’la,  It has been a very long time since I participated in any… intimate activities and I do not wish to disappoint you” you smile down at him and he feels his cock throb against the confines of his pants “you don’t need to be perfect Tech, and I wont be disappointed as long as I’m doing this with you” you grind your hips against him for emphasis before standing up and removing your pants, Tech’s eyes trained on you the entire time, watching you reveal more of yourself to him.

You get to your knees before him and he automatically spreads his legs allowing you more space between them as he holds his breath. Your fingers go to the fastening of his pants and you look up at him, with a small nod you undo them and free his weeping length. You gasp slightly at the sheer size of him, he is long, thick and leaking precum. He lets out a hiss through clenched teeth as you wrap your hand around him and give him a few experimental pumps, his hips bucking into your hand for more friction as he screws his eyes shut and lets his head fall back.

Lost in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he lets out a sinful moan as your hand is replaced by the wet heat of your mouth, hands going to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as your lips wrap around his throbbing length. “O-oh mesh’la you’re perfect ahh- absolutely p-perfect” he grunts out as he feels himself hit the back of your throat. You drag your lips up his length before settling into a steady rhythm. Tech loses himself in the feeling of your mouth against his cock, speaking in a combination of basic and Mando’a, praising you, telling you how amazing you feel as his hand rests on the back of your head.

It's not long before he pulls you off of him, a string of saliva connected from your mouth to his cock as you look up at him “I apologise, any more of that and I would ejaculate prematurely and I wish for this to be a pleasurable experience for both of us” he impresses himself by managing to speak full sentences as he pants, he was sure that his capabilities for speech left him the moment you wrapped your lips around him. You smile, pumping his slick length a few times before standing, ridding yourself of your panties and returning to your previous position of straddling his lap, now with no barriers between you.

Tech reaches his hand between your legs, fingers brushing against your folds “Kriff… y-you’re so wet mesh’la” he grits out, the feeling of your soaking entrance almost enough to send him over the edge. “It’s all for you Tech” you whisper into his ear, your breath fanning over his skin making him shudder as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

If the feeling of your mouth was intense, Tech was not ready for the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him. It took every ounce of control not to paint your walls with his seed the moment your heat fully engulfed him. His fingers were digging into your thighs, his eyes were screwed shut as he focused on his breathing as he felt his length throb inside of you. You rested your head against his shoulder, moaning out his name as the feeling of his girth overwhelmed you. After waiting a moment for both of you to adjust you slowly raise yourself up off him and slam your hips back down, drawing a ragged moan from the both of you. Tech simply held on for dear life as you took control, riding him as he babbled and rambled about how good you felt, about how you were so tight about how he had never felt anything this good.

It took all of his remaining brain power to bring one of his hands down to start rubbing tight circles against your clit, causing your walls to flutter around him, clenching and squeezing around his cock as he drew ever closer to his peak.

“W-where” he manages to groan out between loud moans of your name.

“I-inside- ah-” your permission was all he needed to be pushed him over the edge into euphoria, his nerves set alight as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum inside you, filling you up and spilling out of you as you reach your own peak atop him, your clenching walls bordering on overstimulation but he would never complain.

You led the two of you to your bedroom before reminding him to tell hunter that he would not be home tonight, Hunter telling him to simply stay safe and that he would see him tomorrow morning. Exhausted and oh so content, it wasn’t long before the two of you passed out in each other’s arms, wrapped in your soft blankets, entirely ignorant to the outside world.

The next morning after another round of lovemaking, Tech returns to the parlour, his brothers and Phee present around the bar. Wrecker lets out a holler as he see’s the dark marks you left on him the night before, smacking him on the back as he makes his way to the bar. Tech slides into the stool next to Phee as she smirks over towards him “I’m glad you two finally worked it out” she sips her drink “Yes… Thank you for your help”

I thought I could try and help recontextualize the relationship between Tech and Phee a little bit so let me know if it helps soothe some of that heartache because I genuinely love Phee, but I totally understand the emotions if Tech is your man. She wants yall together as much as you do dw

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ttzamara@sunshinesdaydream@bambambunny@madameminor

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM VARIOUS HORROR/SLASHER FILMS *  assorted dialogue from scary movies i will never watch tbh :)

did you really call the police?

there is no death.

i told the others. they didn't believe me. you're all doomed.

i just can't take no pleasure in killing.

i don't really believe in motives.

there's just some things you gotta do. don't mean you have to like it.

if i concentrate hard enough, i can move things.

you must renounce this power. you must give it up.

there is something horrible happening in my house.

do you remember the thing you said on our wedding night?

you're going to die up there.

i've been afraid of storms ever since i was a little kid.

they're opening that place again?

at least i'm not afraid of ghosts.

my bed was shaking. i can't get to sleep.

you listen to me, you little bitch.

you sick fucks. you've seen one too many movies.

come on! it's gonna be a fun trip!

oh, that gun's no good.

you're such a sucker for it.

i've never sensed anything like it.

they die better that way.

you still haven't told me your name.

i was the killer!

somebody's there!

what are you doing out in this mess?

that's the last goddamn hitchhiker i ever pick up.

if i have any more fun today, i don't think i'm gonna be able to take it!

i don't think any of you have any idea of just how nasty what you did really was.

the devil exists. god exists. and for us, as people, our very destiny hinges upon which one we elect to follow.

you're doomed! you're all doomed!

what's your favorite scary movie?

shut your mouth!

hold me. please hold me.

you damn fool! you ruined the door!

i was at the slaughterhouse.

a second body was found in a ditch near the perimeter of the cemetery.

there's no need to do that.

what's that stench?

you're not even going to reprimand them? no punishment?

please help me!

you can't just let them kill me!

you never paid any attention!

i'll do anything!

sin never dies.

oh, that's blood all right.

you have a lot of spirits in here, but there is one i'm most worried about because it is so hateful.

are you alone in the house?

what an excellent day for an exorcism.

it knows what scares you. it has from the very beginning. don't give it any help, it knows too much already.

the power of christ compels you.

there's someone in this fucking room!

next time i catch anybody over there, i'm gonna have to run them in.

they're all gonna laugh at you!

we keep everything locked in here. feel free to look around.

hear that?

i'm the devil. now kindly undo these straps.

is there someone inside you?

don't go anywhere.

talk louder, i can't hear you!

you already cut me too deep! i think i'm dying here!

you fuckin' hit me with the phone, dick!

oh my god, i thought you were dead.

we all go a little mad sometimes.

this is the moment where the supposedly dead killer comes back to life for one last scare.

don't call me that!

you wanna get us killed!

come on, there's something you're not telling me.

you'll never come back again.

wanna see my trick shot? it's even better.

his body was never recovered from the lake after he drowned.

help me tie this around my waist.

you've never done this before.

when you hear it, you're gonna think we're insane.

it did that to your face?

everything you see in here is either haunted, cursed, or has been used in some kind of ritualistic practice.

watch it, you stupid shit.