#i just want to print! my! rent! form!
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apparently my 12 year old printer "won't connect with Windows 10" bro wtf is the meaning of this
#i just want to print! my! rent! form!#please do not make me buy a new printer#also like arent all new printers bad nowadays?#mcdeaks speaks
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: none yet
Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
———————
“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.
“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.
“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.
“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.
“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.
“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.
“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.
“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.
“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.
“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.
“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.
“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.
“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.
“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.
“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.
“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet
‘of course’.
“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.
“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.
“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.
“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.
—————-
“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.
“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.
“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.
—————————-
“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.
“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.
“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.
“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.
“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.
“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.
“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.
“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.
“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.
————————
“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.
“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.
“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.
“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.
“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.
“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.
“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.
“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.
“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.
“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.
But what if?
——————-
“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.
“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.
“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.
“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.
“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.
“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.
“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.
He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.
“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.
“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.
“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.
“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.
“No worries love.” He nods to you.
“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.
He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.
—————————————-
I’m ready for a new story.
Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3
If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.
#captain price x female reader#john price#barry sloane#captain john price#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#task force 141#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare
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birthday kiss
pairing: roomate!spencer reid x reader
description: its readers birthday!
tags: fluffy fluff, first kiss, gn!reader, expensive watch but its okay because papa pasta paid for it, idk bro there are no warnings this is just cute.
a/n: more roomate spencer because i am a sucker for close proximity. this is the watch for reference (i rlly want it, let me live) and im choosing to be ignorant about spencers financial sitch, but in this its a tad too expensive for him. watched gilmore girls before writing this and had the overwhelming urge to write (somewhat) snappy dialogue. happy reading!
wc: 882
“make a wish.”
spencer holds out the cupcake with a single candle on it infront of your face. you blow out cold air extinguishing the frame with your eyes closed.
“what’d you wish for?” you.
“i can't tell you, it won't come true.”
the two of you are sitting on the couch, facing each other. it's midnight, which means it's officially your birthday. spencer picked up a cupcake on the way home from work, it was red velvet with assorted coloured sprinkles, very festive. you split the cupcake with him, laughing when he inevitably gets frosting on his nose, swiping it off with your thumb.
“so i got you something,” he starts as stands up to go get it.
“oh?”
“yeah,” he hands you a neatly wrapped box, sitting back down next to you, a little closer this time to gauge your reaction. you peel away the paper and a red leather box reveals itself, and in small print; cartier.
“spencer, this isn't funny,” you look up at him, eyes wide.
“open it,” he urges.
you open the box, and your breath hitches. the most beautiful silver watch sits inside it–one you've had your eye on for months.
“this isn't funny,” you repeat, looking at the watch in disbelief.
he swipes the box, taking the watch out and putting it on you, seeing as how you're frozen. he holds your wrist gently, admiring the piece he got you. he can't help but lift your wrist up and press a kiss to the soft skin, letting his lips linger there for a moment before putting it down.
his tenderness makes you frown. you look down and let out a slightly incredulous scoff. “i can't believe you…” you trail off before returning your glance to him, “how did you afford this?”
“i've got money.”
“i know you do. but you're also splitting the rent with me so that has to put up some spending limitations.”
“ok fair enough,” he surrenders, “rossi hooked me up, and by hooked me up, i mean he paid for most of it.”
you smile, a bright beautiful smile that loves. “that sly fox,” you chuckle, “remind me to kiss him next time i see him.”
“he gets a kiss and i don't?” he fake pouts.
“no, you get a kiss,” you lean over and lightly peck his cheek, you stay close. your lips are still curled up but this time it's a giddy grin.
you have an idea.
“i got something for you too.”
“it's not my birthday, why would you get me something?”
“it just came up,” you shrug.
“okay…” his uselessly veiled scepticism is very obvious.
“close your eyes.”
he does and a small crease forms between his eyebrows in confusion when you don't get up, he can feel the way the cushions dip as you shift in your seat, you're moving closer? why haven't you left to go get it yet? maybe it's in your pocket? maybe-
all rational thought vanishes from his mind when he feels your lips on his, soft. your hand is on his cheek as you kiss him. it's gentle and hesitant and he feels as though he might explode. careful not to make you think he doesn't reciprocate, spencer kisses you back, with a touch of desperation. you hum quietly into the kiss and pull back, resting your forehead on his.
“thank you,” you whisper, the soft puffs of your breath can be felt on his face and he relishes in the proximity.
he laughs, low and behind closed lips. “you're welcome. if i had known that getting you a watch would have earned me a kiss, i would've done it a lot sooner.”
“don't get too excited, dave gets one too.”
he shakes his head with a scoff, forehead still pressed against yours.
“thats what i wished for by the way.”
he leans his head back to look at you, “us kissing?”
“mhm, something like that.” you wished for a lot more than kissing but for now this was perfect.
“well, you know what they say…”
“what?” you inquire, amused.
“if the wish is granted within five minutes of the wish making, you're allowed a second one.”
“really? where'd you hear that?”
“i read it somewhere.”
“no sources?” you retort.
“nope, forgot.”
“likely story.”
you roll your eyes yet you humour him, picking up the liner filled with the mound of frosting you picked off your share of the cupcake earlier and sticking the previously lit candle into it. spencer grabs the match box and relights it.
you get all up in his space again, face dangerously close to his with the contraption you've made held next to you. “i wish you'd kiss me again,” you request, turning your head to blow out the flame.
his fingers catch your chin to bring your face back to him, “we can definitely arrange that.”
you giggle as his lips hover over yours. “if this wish gets granted within the first five minutes too, do i get a third?”
“you can have whatever you want, angel.”
“good deal,” you murmur against his lips as he kisses you.
it was just a little over 15 minutes into your birthday but you could say with full certainty that this one was going to be your favourite.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#fluff#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fic#icymi <3#icymi
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I don't really get the people who think reading the comics is such a radical idea. Don't they want to learn more about them? aren't they curious what makes them tick? what insane adventures they went on? what fears they have? what makes them laugh and smile? I'm from europe so I haven't seen any of the DC shows I see mentioned every once in a while (which means I really don't get the whole Clark hates clones thing... but that's a different thing) and it's only been this year that I have enough disposable income to splurge on comics, aka I haven't read that many just yet.
But I do think the ones I have read enhance the stories I'm trying to tell, which to me is a good reason to read them ;p but besides that, they are fun! they are just really fun to read
I’m glad you’re having fun reading comics man! It’s a shame that folks don’t read them as much but you know, I can understand it. I both asked some folks in the Haunting Heroes discord server and have some of my own points to make about this.
First of all I do still believe that you should consume some form of DC media if you’re in the fandom. It’s fun and there are comics, books, movies, tv shows, and every other form of medium known to man that you can take a peek at! Idk I’m just a bit DC enjoyer and think that looking at canon media to expand on your knowledge and help create ideas you wouldn’t have had if you hadn’t looked at said piece of media.
Now onto why reading comic books is hard:
Some folks simply prefer the fandom and not the official DC content. Whether they prefer fanon, find fics more accessible, or like the people in the fandom, they’d rather just stick to the fandom.
They simply don’t know where to start. Getting into comics can be INCREDIBLY overwhelming ( DC has done their best to fix this and has messed up more than once. My go to is to reccomend folks just start reading New 52 comic runs as it’s really good for new readers to jump into the comics with any hero that might intrigue them). Big comic events span multiple comic story runs and not a cohesive line of comics, some omnibuses for stories are out of print, the 80+ years of comics are daunting as hell, and everyone has their own opinion on the best versions of a character/where to start/what to read.
Money. Comics are an expensive hobby to have. They may cost $1-$5 each on average but that price adds up over time. I have a comic collection of roughly 1,300 comics. I’d estimate its value very roughly around the $7,800 range. It’s probably far more than that though and I know damn well reselling it I won’t get half of that value back. I’m very fortunate to be a college student with disposable income and for this hobby to be the only thing I ever really spend money on besides rent and food. Some people either can’t afford them or don’t want to buy a comic they don’t know if it’s good or not.
Varying quality. Comics are a very mixed bag thing where they can be incredibly written or some of the worst pieces of media you’ve ever read. With this being the case, it can be really hard to find a comic character or writer you like if that’s your first experience. It takes a while to learn about different writers and find out who your favorite writers are. What’s harder is some writers can make absolute masterpieces with one character and the next comic run they cover it can be absolute garbage. Not only that, everyone has opinions on what is a good comic run or not. It’s impossible to find a repeatedly stated and easily accessible list on the good comics to read.
Pretentious “Canon is God” fans. Experiencing “um actually this isn’t good because this isn’t how the canon character would act” responses from people can really fucking suck and diminish their want to experience anything that’s official DC writing. I’ve seen more than one person go into this primarily fanon focused space and insult people saying their writing isn’t canonical and therefore it isn’t valid. It’s Uber Pretentious, demeaning, and actively harms peoples interests in checking out canon content.
Timelines. I already kind of said it but DC’s timelines are a mess. hell, even New 52 has some fucked up timelines making all of Batman’s previous timelines canon but happen only within a seven year period. That’s WAY too short for how much history is packed in there. The amount of crisises that happen and fully change the lore and timelines of characters is bonkers, the comic runs that bounce between different comic runs are really confusing, and the fact that there isn’t a True Starting Point for reading makes it so hard to grasp anything that’s happening. It’s one of comics biggest issues and no matter what DC has done they have yet to find a convenient solution.
Sensitive Content. Comics from DC are littered with either intentional, badly aged, or ignorantly written plot points and writing choices that will turn away readers. DC has its fair share of sexism, misogyny, abelism, racism, abuse, sexual harassment, sexual assaults, or topics casually addressed that can be very triggering for some people. Especially since a large amount of that sort of content is handled incredibly poorly. One particular writer, Alan Moore, writes sexual assault scenes with absolutely zero tact or the delicateness that a topic such as that should be held in. It’s almost solely used as a “let’s make the bad guy do the most fucked up thing they could do” throwaway plot point. Comics of the sort dissuade a lot of readers because of both the heavy content within comics and how that content can be incredibly poorly handled. This is partially why some folks would prefer to read fics. Comics are a unknown mixed grab bag when it comes to content like this and things exactly like this is known to make PTSD symptoms worse while fics have tags and can warn you before you consume the content within.
Time. A lot of folks have busy lives and just don’t have the time to read them.
The ways they intake media. Some folks might have a better time watching a long commentary video that explains a comic or their brain can’t process the comic medium very well. I can read and retain comic knowledge but even I am unique in this aspect, my memory is frightening levels of bad and is proven by science to be absolute shit. I have to reread comics at least once a month to retain the basic bare bones plot. Just because one person can easily digest what’s going on in a comic doesn’t mean everyone can.
Comics are such a big part of my life. I love them so much and they’ve gotten me through so many things. My own experience with comics isn’t the same for others and my thoughts on reading comics differs with other people. A lot of people have equally as many reasons for why they don’t read comics as you and I have for reading them.
#if I didn’t add a point you’d think should be mentioned feel free to reply#dpxdc#danny phantom#dp x dc#bones replies#bones answers comic questions
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I am so glad you’re taking reqs!! Beach sex with rafayel on my mind 24/7 😔😳
not u reading my mind...💓💓
☆
𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐮𝐩! ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺。°
𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐰: 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫
'it's 30°C in linkon right now, people! that means swimming, beach parties, sex on the beach, and beaches."
you groaned at the weather reporter's distasteful pun and reached out to turn the volume of your mini radio down. huffing, you kneeled on your beach towel, re-knotting the strings of your bikini top. your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when you felt stares on you, clenching your fist, you turned around to give whatever man thinks he has the audacity to-
"rafayel." you exclaimed in a relieved tone, letting your fist sink. said man cocked his head to the side with his signature smile - he was wearing dark blue swimming trunks and a creamy shirt, which he left unbuttoned. sunglasses sat on his purple hair, and the sun shined so brightly on him, it almost made his strands look lavender. "is an excuse of a man giving you trouble?" he asked, his voice laced with a tilt of threat. you shook your head, stretching out your legs and supporting your upper body with your arms to look at him. "i'd take care of that myself." you started, pursing your lips, "what're you doing here? i didn't think you'd be the type to enjoy public beaches."
the artist crouched down to be on eye level with you and began to draw random shapes into the sand. "you'd be right. i'm just passing through to the private beach i rented." he pointed his finger westways, signaling to a lonely patch of sand surrounded by trees. you gawked at him after the words 'rented' and 'private beach' left his throat and shook your head in disbelief. "rich people have weird hobbies."
rafayel let out a fake 'ha, ha.' but the grin on his face was genuine. letting his magenta eyes travel around the beach, he took in the empty beer bottles and weird people hanging around. "come, join me. this place sucks."
so you did. even though your crocs were filling up with hot sand, it was thrilling to have a beach just for the two of you. after placing your (definitely not spongebob printed) bath towel, rafayel immediately lifted you over his shoulder and dropped you into the icy, salty seawater. resurfacing, you gasped - pulling your wet hair back from your face.
"you."
just hearing the pure, hot anger in your tone, rafayel booked it into the other direction. "you motherfucker!" you sprinted after him, hunter senses kicking in until you tackled him onto the ground. "you're under arrest, rafayel." a cheshire cat-like grin formed on his face, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "what're you gonna do to me, miss hunter?" he began, leaning closer to your face. "what's my sentence?" he whispered, slowly turning both of you around. feeling the energy switch abruptly, you broke eye contact. "i'll...keep you in a small fishbowl, like cosmo and wanda."
letting out a chuckle, he kissed your bare shoulder. "doesn't seem that bad." nuzzling deeper into your neck, he pressed hot mouthed kisses to your throat and collarbone, making you whine out needily. "please, rafa. not here, they'll see." locking eyes with him, you knew this was a useless battle. his eyes were glazed over, a hunger you knew all too well reflecting in them. "I don't care." he said, voice muffled by your skin. spreading your legs, you gave him space to settle, which he took with delight. "seems like you don't care, either." you reacted with a pout, not wanting to admit you were down bad this immensely for him. "I'm still dripping from your attack. it must taste bad. or maybe it'll make a fish like you nostalgic."
rafayel laughed at your attempts to cover your shyness, finding it weirdly endearing. it is very unlike him to choose to stay quiet, but he did - drawing a map from your collarbone, between your chest and down to your waist with his lips, wetting them with seawater and the taste of you. he tightened the grip on your thighs once you started squirming, letting his other hand travel just a bit higher to undo the strings of your bikini and let it fall down your legs.
"fuck, I can't wait to taste you." rafayel rasped, guiding your legs onto his shoulders. a bright blush erupted on your cheeks, and you covered your face with your hands, panicking slightly. it's not like this is the first time you've slept with him, though somehow the same feeling pooled in your tummy - a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. rafayel's passionate and upfront personality makes sex feel so much more like an adventure. kissing your inner thighs, he teased what was about to happen, making you cage him in as if it were a reflex. "tsk." he tutted, tapping his finger on the plump of your upper legs to warn you. "behave."
it's very unlike you to submit, but for him, you do. you arch your back, whine and moan as he parts your wet folds with his fingers and licks long stripes between them, stopping everytime once he reaches your clit - kissing, biting and sucking it. thinking about having the most sought-after man in linkon between your legs makes this even more intense, and you feel yourself getting wetter. rafayel notices this as well, pumping a finger into your hole to make more of your juices seep out. he just liked the taste of you too much, he can't help it.
"get on your stomach." he said, watching you turn over. luckily, you caught a short glimpse of his reddened ears and his wet chin. once you were positioned to his liking, he gave your ass a spank, watching it jiggle with delight. a yelp escaped you as he did it again, grabbing it forcefully and pulling you flush against his hardened cock. feeling him pulse through the fabric of his trunks had you mewling, grinding your backside against him feverishly. "impatient, huh?" he commented hotly, clumsily pulling his drooling cock out, "me too."
all this waiting had you dizzy. grunting, you reached back and took his cock in you hand, to which he let out a surprised gasp. you felt it oozing out pre and almost moaned at how turned on your lover was too. not-so gently, you guided him between your folds and pressed your ass to his pelvis, taking it all at once. feeling him fill you up so nicely, his tip prodding at your cervix and every twitch of his pale dick mingling into your walls made you moan deliciously.
"fuck, (y/n), you're driving me insane." he whined, pushing his hand to your upper back to press you down, rafayel started to languidly drag his cock along your walls. everyone knows this artist isn't known for his patience or for being monotone, so the rhythm faltered quickly, ending in him thrusting into you so hardly, your ass clapping against his thighs echoed through the beach. you feared the water god he talked about might feel the ripples on the sea, cursing you for being so naughty in front of his domain. you screamed out, helplessly scratching at the sand underneath you as some sort of anchor for your sanity, but you lost yourself to the pleasure the moment he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his chest against your back, freely moaning and cursing into your ear.
"princess, you feel so good. fuck, your pussy is creaming on my cock, it's gonna suck me dry this time, I swear." he babbles. rafayel talks a lot normally, but once he loses himself inside you, the words just flow out. "r-ra-af", you choke out between thrusts, "it feels so good, oh my god." your pussy flutters once he hits a certain spot, and he immediately notices - abusing it with no hold-backs. if there's anything he wants, it's for you to go above and beyond the lines of pleasure, so he starts circling your clit with three fingers quickly, drawing circle and infinity shapes just how you like it. with no warning, no build up, you fall apart quickly, screaming his name to the heavens while you feel your soul escaping your body with a mind shattering orgasm. after a few seconds, your body is drained off all strength, and you become a doll in his hands to fuck his cum into.
"(y/n), you should've seen your face right now, never saw something more beautiful. it was so hot, fuck-" he buries his head into your neck while he lazily thrusts into you a few times more, stuffing his cock so deep into your pussy you fear he might target your womb. he doesn't move, keeping his pelvis flush against your back while filling you up -
"fuck, it's yours. I'm yours. take it."
#lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace rafayel x reader#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel x reader smut#lads rafayel#lads x reader#lads rafayel x reader smut#lads x reader smut#lads rafayel x reader#rafayel x reader#rafayel x reader smut
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Day 14 -Shower Sex-Hisoka/Reader
Notes: k so suspend your disbelief that Hisoka would ever need a roommate, that man is probably rich as hell, but this is my universe and I can do anything I want.
.....
Maybe your decision to get a roommate was a mistake. It had seemed like such a bright idea a few weeks ago, when you had put the last minute listing online. Because you could have a nice, large apartment in a central location and halve the price. And maybe you could make a nice friend out of it. You were even safe, requiring an online form as well as an in person interview. You weren't too worried though, you considered yourself pretty formidable when it came to ability.
But it was not going as well as you would have liked. You have received plenty of submissions, sure. But each one had something glaringly wrong with it. You shuffle through the forms you had printed out, sighing as each one passes through your vision. These are the better ones, you threw out the worse ones already. Now, only three remain.
The first one is a woman, who after a delightful interview where the two of you got along really well, she had informed you that she had four cats and three dogs, and a cow. And she would expect them to live with her. So she was obviously tossed. The second one had been a rather mousy looking man who had some clear stalker tendencies, and had asked you to compromise on rent. You had told him maybe, and shooed him away.
The last option was the one you were most hopeful about. It was another man, who was set to arrive any minute now. His answers on the form were promising, of course, but also very general. That was why you had set up the in person interview. To probe people and get their general vibes.
The doorbell rings, shaking you out of your thoughts. You jump up, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, before moving to the door. This is the last one. You send up a little prayer, begging that this one will be the perfect candidate, and open the door.
The man standing on the other side of the door with his hand on his hip is very hot. It's the first thing you notice, followed very quickly by the odd way he dresses. But have met many a weird dresser in your day so you try not to judge.
“Are you Mr Morrow?” You question, smiling up at him. He's very tall, looming over you a bit in your own doorway.
“Yes, I was informed you were in desperate need of a roommate,” The man says, offering a hand out in front of him. “You have such a lovely nen, dear.”
You take it, wincing slightly as he shakes it. He's a dramatic one. And probably a pro hunter, given the fact that he noticed your nen. And pointed it out at all. But that doesn't mean anything, not yet at least.
“I am. Come on in.” You say, yanking your hand out of his tight, cold grip and opening the door wide. The man breezes past you, sauntering into your house with no hint of hesitancy or fear. He shows only blind confidence, accompanied by a smirk tossed over his shoulder. He must be very strong. Or just stupid. You don't know which is better. You sigh, leading him towards the living room where you have your little interview area set up.
“Alright Mr Morrow, could you tell me why you want a roommate?” You ask, sitting down on the couch of the cozy little living room. He sits down opposite you, in one of the cushy armchairs and crosses one leg over the other.
“Hisoka is fine,” he says, brushing a hair through his red hair, pushing it back farther. “And it seemed fun!”
You raise an eyebrow. So he's an odd one.
“Not for a financial need or…” You say, trying to prompt him into a more in depth answer. His smiles, yellow eyes flickering between your face and the rest of the apartment, probably taking it in. It's a nice apartment, and in a central part of Yorknew city. That's partly why you were so desperate for it.
“Oh no, of course not. I could pay for this entire place if I felt like it.” He laughs lightly, and you chuckle. Probably a bad sign, you muse as he continues. “It's just that the address of my other residence got out and I had the most annoying visitors at all hours of the day.”
You raise your eyebrow high, so high you assume it's going to disappear into your hairline at any moment, and tap your pen. Hisoka shakes his head, pouting slightly and you kick yourself as it occurs to you once again how attractive he really is.
“It was so inconvenient, I'm sure you know darling. So I had to move.” Hisoka says with a frown, head tilting to the side. “But I soon discovered that I had been put on a no buy list. Like a no fly list? You understand?”
He leans forward, like he's telling some great secret, and you nod with a sigh. This one is a complicated one. No matter how attractive you find his arms as they flex, or his thin waist in that odd outfit he wears, you need to remain rational and not rush such an important decision because you thought this guy was hot as fuck. Hisoka smiles, somehow not disturbing the strange symbols painted on his cheeks.
“So I figured getting a roomie was the solution to both problems!” He says with a smile, pointing his finger in the air as if he's come up with the solution to a great puzzling problem. “No weak people will figure out my address, as your name will be on the lease. And paying you the rent mitigates the no buy list issue.”
“I see, how interesting.” You say, trying not to sound too amused. He sure is a weird one, alright. “Do you have any pets?”
“Oh no, animals don't like me.” He laughs, passing his hand through his hair again. “I couldn't tell you why, will that be an issue?”
“Oh, no.” You say, a beat of worry ticking at the back of your brain. “I don't have any pets, they make a lot of mess.”
It should probably be a bad sign that animals don't like him, but honestly all you care about is the fact that he doesn't have a pet, not any flags as red as his hair that answer might raise.
“And you wouldn't object to sharing a bathroom?” You question. The apartment is nice, but it's a two bedroom one bath. You didn't know why, an odd design choice on the part of the former owners. Hisoka chuckles.
“Oh, not at all~” He says silkily, recrossing his legs with a flourish. “I can coexist just fine with someone as lovely as you. I hear that taking showers together conserves water~”
He shoots you a wink, a smirk flashing across his face. You laugh, trying to ignore what he's laying down on the table. It's better not to think of anything like that, lest it urge you closer and closer to just giving up and taking him on as a roommate.
“How environmentally conscious,” You say, appropriately neutral as you continue. “And may I ask what you do for work?”
“Ah work. That's a little complicated, I'm afraid.” Hisoka says, tilting his head to the side with a bit of a frown. “I suppose officially, I would classify as a blacklist hunter.”
Ah, of course. You can't really say you're surprised, but perhaps it's a bad sign for your mental health that his answer doesn't actually put you off as much as it should.
“I see,” you say, noting that down on your little notebook. Hisoka tilts his head, eyes flickering curiously.
“You don't seem at all alarmed.” He questions, yellow eyes staring directly at your face. Not dancing around your face and body, not at the wall behind you. He must be very interested in your reaction.
“It's really none of my business, as long as you don't mess with the apartment,” You explain, running a hand through your hair. “And besides, I'm a hunter as well, and you don't seem to mean any harm to me. Right now anyway.”
Hisoka blinks, letting the silence stretch on for a moment, filling the air of the cozy living room. He seems a bit surprised by your answer, for reasons you can't understand. Maybe he was surprised by your total lack of fear? Or maybe your casual attitude. It was only natural, both your parents were hunters and most of your clientele were as well. You supposed you were a bit dead to what was normal and unusual. You did make specialty weapons for people all over the world. Some of your best clientele were the infamous Zoldyck family. You were kind of used to weirdos dressed in odd costumes who wanted strange things. The only thing you might need to worry about from Hisoka was how attractive you found him.
Hisoka chuckles.
“How interesting~” he purrs, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. “What a strikingly brave person you are, doll.”
“I guess,” You say, shrugging off the pet name he’s already assigned you with a sigh. “Are there any questions you have for me? It's better to settle these things before you move in.”
“Ah, so you’ll have me then?” Hisoka asks, all smiles. You nod, shuffling your papers with a sigh. It seems he really is the best option.
“Questions, hmm.” Hisoka says, tapping his chin. You wait patiently as he considers, a bit worried. Finally, he speaks. “I have an odd friend. You don't mind him showing up out of nowhere do you?”
You sigh. You've been doing a lot of sighing lately.
“No, not really. Tell him my bedroom is off limits though.” You say, standing to your feet. You've known your share of weirdos, and as long as this one stays out of your private spaces you're fine. Hisoka smiles, rising smoothly to his feet with a slightly unhinged smile. He held out his hand, yet again. You eye it warily.
“So, we have a deal?” He asks, angling his hand upwards slightly, palm pointing into the ceiling. His nails are a bit long, you notice absentmindedly.
You reach out, taking his hand to shake.
“Yes, for now.” You say, “But we still need to sign the papers.”
“Yes, of course.” Hisoka supplies, mouth curving into a smile as he grips your hand, bringing it up to his cold lips. You push down a flush, biting your lips as he presses a long kiss to the back of your hand. His yellow eyes flick up, meeting your own and pinning you to the spot. Finally, after what feels like an age, he stands up, gently releasing your hand from his chilly grip. It falls to your side, and you clear your throat.
“Would you like a tour?” You ask, proud of how clear your vocal cords remain. Hisoka chuckles, crossing his arms casually.
“Sure.” He laughs.
You fear for your future self. You’ve certainly found an odd roommate.
⚀⚀⚀
Hisoka, despite the faults and red flags that constantly run in your vision, isn't actually that terrible of a roomate. He's quite clean, and not very noisy. He does cook at all, but you don't mind cooking for two and leaving leftovers for him as he comes and goes. In return, he cleans the kitchen for you, and often the rest of the house as well. The two of you end up not seeing each other as much as you would like, only meating for meals and the occasional free afternoon of dancing around each other. It's nice, honestly. You can ignore his other faults, like the makeup skin and hair products that are mixing with your own, and the incessant flirting. He flirts so much you assume it's just how he is. Because no matter how much you wanna fuck him, you doubt its returned. Because that's the other problem. You really wanna fuck him, and it can be reliably traced to a combination of a few things.
One, because of your new roomie, you cant bring men home to fuck anymore.
Two, He's just insanely attractive and touchy, a hand on your waist here, a brush of your neck there, and you're losing your mind.
And three, the walls are too thin for you to masturbate comfortably. You can only masturbate in the shower now. But that in itself is a problem. You try not to shower for too long because of the water bill and so you can only get yourself off way less than you need.
But it isn't really a big deal, you promise yourself. You don't find yourself spending long bouts of time with Hisoka anyway, so your obvious desire for him isn't on display. You can only hope you can hide it for as long as the two of your remaining roomies.
⚀⚀⚀
You survey the counters of your bathroom, the white of the countertop slowly being swallowed by skincare. Your own skincare addiction was a beast, but with Hisoka living with you the problem had only worsened. The shelves were covered in various masks and serums, the cabinets taken up by painkillers and mysterious under the counter drugs. The shelves to the side of the counter are laden in your makeup, with a small space devoted to the few products Hisoka used to draw his star and teardrop.
You shove a couple things aside to grab your hair brush. The mirror is clean, your reflection clear in the glass, a few little sticky notes stuck to one end. You eye them, your messy handwriting noting down the things you were running low on. It was better if you left them in the mirror. You looked at it every morning and night after all when you did your skincare.
You sigh, running a brush over your scalp in relief. The shower isn't running yet, but you're excited for the opportunity to wash your hair, and of course, to masturbate. Your body is thrumming with pent up energy as you eye yourself in the mirror. Hisoka had been especially annoying this week. It seemed he had nothing to do, so every morning when you left for work you encountered him in the living room, and he was there when you returned.
Sometimes he was on the couch, watching reality tv in a tank top and sweats, and sometimes he was clearly just coming from the gym with sweat gathering on his arms and face. Each time he was desperately tempting, and much too flirty for your sanity. Be it a wink and a flirty comment, or a brush of your waist and a breath on your neck. He was driving you crazy.
You sigh, shedding the towel you had been wrapped in and fold it neatly, placing it on the small shelf next to the entrance of the shower. You dig your feet ingo the bathmat, running a hand through your hair with a sigh. And then you see it.
A spider. A nasty, giant spider the size of your palm, sitting directly in the shower. In the path of your feet.
You scream shrilly, jumping backwards dramatically as you run to get as far away from the spider as possible. You hate spiders, more than anything in the world. You scream again, your shrill voice echoing off the bathroom walls.
“Hisoka!” You shriek, hugging your naked waist in fear as the spider moves a few inches closer. “Come here!”
The door slams open, Hisoka moving with a sense of urgency. His face betrays no emotion besides amusement as he takes you in, shivering and naked, glaring at the spider on the shower floor.
“Can I help you doll?” he purrs, moving closer to you across the bathroom floor. You don't even notice, too busy with your worst enemy, the giant spider watching you from the shower. The shower in the bathroom is only covered with a slight wall of glass, leaving about a space wide enough for someone to pass through comfortably into the shower cubby. It's also enough space for the spider to escape and hunt you down relentlessly.
“Don't you see it?” You hiss, body trembling in the chilly bathroom air. You shiver, holding your arms around your waist. You seem to have forgotten your nakedness.
Hisoka chuckles, folding his hands across his chest as his yellow eyes scan your body, pausing on all the parts of interest. He licks his lips, moving towards you across the floor. You don't notice, too busy keeping an eye on the spider.
“Look,” you whisper. “The spider. In the shower.”
“Ah,” Hisoka says, a slight laugh contained in his voice. “Afraid of spiders, are you?”
You roll your eyes, not happy with his sarcasm.
The spider jumps, moving out of the shower cubby and towards you on the floor. You shriek, jumping backwards and into Hisoka’s arms, clinging to his muscled body as you scream.
“Ugh, it's coming this way!” You yell, hiding your face in Hisoka’s chest as your legs clench around his waist. “Just kill it!”
Hisoka laughs, the sound rattling in his chest as you cling close to him. He has his phone in his pocket, poking against your thighs. It's odd, because you don't remember this pair of sweatpants he's wearing having pockets. The spider sits heavy on your mind though, and you grip his muscled shoulders close with a whimper.
“As you wish.” Hisoka laughs, gripping your thighs and holding your body close to him. Faintly, you inhale his scent, a mix of flowers and musk and the unmistakable faint scent of blood. It turns you on as fear runs through your blood. You hid your head in his chest.
“Is it dead?” You whisper, gripping him tightly. Your heart is beating fast against your chest, begging to escape and run away from the stupid spider.
“Yes, doll.” Hisoka purrs, other hand coming up to stroke your hair gently, an attempt to calm you down. “Your knight in shining armor has rescued you from the great threat lurking in the depths of the shower.”
You roll your eyes. He's making fun of you.
“Did you throw it away?” You question, not loosening your death grip on his shoulders.
“Yes, I'm delighted to report it’s out of your sight.” Hisoka says, a chuckle in his voice. You pull your head away from his chest cautiously, pearing backwards and scouring the bathroom floor for any remnants of the spider. The floor is empty, only occupied with the fluffy bath mat. You sigh in relief, your chest heavy distractingly against the black tank top Hisoka wears.
Then you realize exactly where you are. You're clinging to Hisoka like a tree, completely naked and clutching at his body. You shriek again, almost as loud as you did when you saw that damn spider and fly away from him like you've touched fire. Hisoka chuckles.
“Aw, come back.” he coos, running a hand through his hair. “You were so cute, all helpless and scared.”
You frown and bite back a groan at the same time, covering your tits and pussy with your hands as best you can.
“Get out!” You shriek, fighting back the arousal that leaks in as you take him in.
“How rude!” Hisoka chuckles, pulling his tank top over his head. “No thank you?”
You yank your eyes away from his pale chest, as your pussy twitches with arousal. He toys with the hem of his sweatpants. As he tugs them lower, and you take in the v line pointing lower and lower, you realize he's not wearing boxers. You yank your eyes away, but it's too late. He's seen your wandering eyes.
“The water bill is getting too high.” You say out of nowhere, body tingling with arousal.
HIsoka tilts his head, biting back a smirk.
“Is that so?” He smirks, voice lilting seductively. “You know, I've been told showering together conserves water.”
You bite back a smile. A callback to your very first conversation. You let your hands drop, as you move towards the shower. All pretense is gone, just two people who really wanna fuck each others brians out. You giggle.
“What a clever plan.” You say, stepping into the shower and turning on the water with a sigh. Hisoka crowds behind you, smirking like the cat that got the cream. You suppose that's an accurate description for what's happening right now.
⚀⚀⚀
“How long have you known,” You whimper, boobs and face pressed against the glass divider. Hisoka chuckles, tick chock drilling your insides as you moan loudly. The steam of the shower floats through the air, obscuring his face slightly. His hair is down, dripping with water and plastered to his face, but he doesn't seem to care. You brace your hands against the glass as he grips his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
“Since your eyes first scanned my body,” Hisoka grunts, hands gripping you so tight you’ll bruise. “You aren't exactly subtle, doll.”
“Ah, how embarrassing.” you murmur, hair falling wet and heavy down your back, tangling in your mouth.
“Don't be too upset about it,” Hisoka murmurs, pressing his back against you as he drills deeper into you. “Your lustful glances were very mutual. You're simply a bit romantically oblivious.”
You whimper, hands scrabbling at the slick glass. The bathroom is filled with steam, the sound of the shower muffling your moans and the slapping of wet skin. You hope your neighbors can't hear you.
“Am i?” You whimper, head falling back as his steady thrusts bring you closer and closer to completion. “I thought you were just like that.”
“I am,” Hisoka mutters, sinking his teeth into your neck. You clench down on him, body tensing as pleasure and pain erupt from the bite mark, tangling and twisting into a heady cocktail of arousal.
“Ah, god.” You moan, nipples rubbing against the glass. “We should have done this sooner.”
Hisoka’s clawed hand reaches down, abandoning your bruised hips to rub circles into your clit. Stars burst behind your eyes, the bubbles and steam of the ballroom only adding to the floaty, dream like atmosphere. Hisoka chuckles, body hard and powerful against your own soft, curvy one.
“I think we'll be doing this a lot from now on.” He half chuckles, half groans, body pressing against yours, pressing you to the glass.
Your lips part as you cum, screaming his name into the abyss of hot steam and powerful muscles. And as the orgasms overwhelm your body, you smile to yourself against the glass.
It seems getting a roommate was shaping up to be the best decision you’d ever made.
.....
Endnotes: my sister is terrified of spiders. I channeled her fear for the spider bit. I don't like spiders very much, but she's genuinely terrified lol.
Also, guess who finished this before one in the morning, instead of at like three. Im hella proud of myself for that <3
#mariannacrxss#helplesslypurple77kinktober#hunter x hunter#hxh smut#hisoka morow#hxh x reader#hisoka smut#hisoka x reader
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 13
He'll show you it was worth it.
Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, minor angst, he's in love ew [Tags will be different for every part!]
Length: 1.1k words
Callob with @euphoricfilter ! 💜
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-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You arrive about half an hour later, and you can't help but sit up straighter as Jungkook pulls up into the driveway of the Airbnb he's rented.
Up until now you've not seen any pictures of it at all- Jungkook being adamant on making sure that you don't ruin the surprise along the way, distracting you whenever you'd bring up the topic at all. So to say that the surprise definitely landed would be an understatement, as you look at the small but very fancy looking house he's currently parking the car at.
A lady walks out, flowery print on her dress while she smiles happily, visibly excited as you and Jungkook exit the car. "Oh you must be the young couple-" She beams, walking towards you with a bit of a limp- probably from old age catching up to her. He gives Jungkook and you a hug before she leans back, looking you up and down. "Well, you weren't lying when you said your girl is pretty!" She compliments, and you have the urge to hide behind your boyfriend for a good moment- only saved by said man taking over quickly, telling Maria to go inside as you both take your stuff with you.
Of course he argues as you want to take your bag- taking it himself instead, absolutely not admitting to any form of struggle at all.
"So! I stocked up the fridge, there's wine too- and I baked something small, just because I had the time left over." She giggles, as Jungkook sets the bags down near the front door for now, walking up to the elderly woman that's standing in the middle of the large interior. "Oh, and I asked my husband about the carpet, and he told me to tell you not to worry about it-" She says a bit more serious. "-Apparently you can just wash these kinds of stains out, no worries there." She winks towards Jungkook, who nods, hoping you don't hear the hidden implications of that statement-
though the glare you send him makes it clear that you do.
"So! I reckon you have the general layout still in mind- treat it like your own home as long as you here." She offers with a gentle hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "Go wild, you're only young once! Ah, and before I forget-" She perks up, before she pulls Jungkook away to whisper something into his ear- something apparently very important, because he looks oddly serious as he nods towards her, the woman patting his back in encouragement of something you're not sure of.
You're busy exploring the holiday home for a good moment, when Jungkook brings the last of your luggage into the bedroom, balcony door opened as you stand on it to look outside. "So? Do you like it?" He asks, standing behind you now, warm body pressed against your back while his chin leans on your shoulder.
"It's.. Jungkook this must've been so fucking expensive, what the hell?" You worry. "And also there's so many towels in the bathroom-" You begin, making him laugh.
"Oh yeah, I told maria you're kinda messy- and since I'm planning on catching up to my highscore while we're here you'll definitely need them-" He begins, making you turn around and smack his pecks- hard. "Ow!" He whines playfully, pouting at you.
"What do you mean, you told Maria about our sex life?!" You complain, and he shrugs.
"Hey I'm pretty proud of our-" He begins, but your glare shuts him up. "Listen, I didn't know if there was like.. a cleaning fine if we mess up stuff too much. And I wanna love you a lot while we're here, so I wanted to make sure I thought of everything!" He explains himself, and you just run a hand over your face. Well, what did you expect anyways?
This is Jungkook, after all. This man coded a full on sex-diary app just for the two of you.
"You know I've been wondering.." You say, leaning your arms over his shoulders, back pressed against the edge of the balcony as he leans in closer, gaze hooded now. "...what spot are you in right now?" You ask, and his face immediately morphs, eyes sharp as his tongue presses into the inside of his cheek.
"..maybe third." He mumbles, before he pulls you back inside by your waist sitting on the edge of the soft bed with you on his lap, eyes hungry while his hands travel beneath your shirt. "But I'll sure be first again once this trip has finished." He tells you like a decision made, no arguments allowed.
"You sure about that?" You wonder, pushing him against his chest until he's left laying on the mattress below, your hands pressed into the softness.
"Absolutely." He says, before pulling your face towards him, licking up all remnants of your strawberry lipbalm and sweet icecream treat you had earlier before arriving. Your hips grind on him without any shame, sounds that escape him singing of his own growing arousal as he lets his fingers dip between the fabric of your pants and your skin. They know exactly where they want to go, moving around until he's got a full hold of your ass, only removing his palms from beneath your jeans to slap back down with open palms.
You move to throw your shirt over your head- his fingers eager to unhook your bra for you, when he sees them.
His movements stutter a bit, face showing utter devastation as his round eyes find yours with worry. "You changed them." He says out of breath, quietly, and you look down at your chest, noticing that yes- you did change the jewelry.
"Oh.. yeah." You admit, making his hands gently hold your tits just to run his thumb over the two little wings on each side of your nipples. They're cute- very fitting, and he wonders where you bought them. But they're also not the little silver hearts you both always wear ever since your second big date.
"...I'll make you love me again." He promises, pulling you down again to kiss you, before he rolls you both over, pressing eager kisses to your neck.
"I still love you-" You argue with a giggle, removing his shirt to be met with the familiar metal jewelry you used to wear as well before you changed them out of pettiness.
"Then I'll make you love me the same as you did before I was a jerk." He urges, pushing you up on the bed a little to properly climb on it, knees dipping down into the soft bedding below you.
"I do that too!" You laugh, and he playfully bites at your collarbone, before looking at you with a gaze made of thousands of lifetimes worth of affection.
"Then I'll make you love me even more." He offers, while you hold his cheeks in your palms, equally as struck by cupid's arrow.
"Impossible.." You say, pulling him closer. "But you're welcome to try."
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook imagine#bts smut#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#bts jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagines#jungkook imagines#bts jeon jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook fanfic
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I visited all the nearby business and no one took my bag in, someone stole it in the 5 minutes I ran up the hill. it's gone with all my rent money.
So I just lost over 2000$ cash rent money but all my cards are deactivated. I can't order new prints for the beginning of next month, so I'll be out even more money.
If anyone wants to help out, I have a donation link here and my shop is here if you're interested in any of my artwork. I'll be putting up new bookmarks later top
Thank you for any kindness of any form, I appreciate it
#added some of my artwork in case anyone doesn't know it idk#legit can't even like sob the tears are just falling#signal boost please#at least I'm pretty sure i took out my birth certificate
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So here are some favourite fics I've written. Soz I don't have anything new to post today in celebration of another trip around the sun but hopefully someone will enjoy reading something on this list. I know all my self-recs are probably the same fics... but they're still my favourites 🤷🏻♀️ 🤣
Behind Smoke Stained Curtains
It was a particularly lonely night when Harry walked through his door with a flurry of snow. He was a little rough around the edges with a trucker hat pushed down over untamed long hair. He looked a little greasy, a shower definitely not in his recent past. His tan Carhartt work coat was smudged with dirt and oil and caked with grime, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The scent was overwhelming as soon as he walked in, unmasked alpha from days on the road stewing in a cab of his own pheromones. Louis was sure it was so deep into the fabric of his coat that no amount of washing would ever truly remove the stench. The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.
Train Tracks and Porcelain
At the first hint of light, Louis was slowly brought back to consciousness by the growing swell of activity around him. It started in the distance with loud clanks and clatters and rose with the hollers of men and thudding of boots against the solid earth. He listened as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to place any sounds he was familiar with. It took him too long to remember that he wasn’t back in his rented room. The energy was what floated to him next, a buzz that made him peek through the leaves to see what was going on. The next moments happened in the strange slow motion of dawn. Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU
Mr. Tuesday
Tuesday. Harry loved Mr. Tuesday. It was true that most of his clients were regulars, but there was just something about Mr. Tuesday that would make him stand out amongst the others even if he hadn’t booked almost every single Tuesday with him for the past year. It was the first day of Harry’s work week and Mr. Tuesday always eased him into it in such a pleasant way.
Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember
Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.
Donor-Conceived
When Harry receives the worst news of his life, it's now or never if he wants to carry a child of his own. Without an alpha, it's a daunting idea. But after it's a go, he finds another omega having a child from the same donor and become fast friends. It is only logical that they raise the boys as half brothers, making sure their sons keep up the relationship with the only connection to their anonymous father. It seems like the perfect plan but life doesn't always work out that way.
The Orchards of Jessop
At age 40, there isn’t much excitement in widower Louis Tomlinson’s life, but wasn’t that the reason he’d moved to Jessop Island in the first place? Back then he hadn’t thought retiring before he reached 30 and moving to the countryside would mean that he’d be doing it alone. Now, just to fill the space, he welcomes lodgers into his home that pass through working as temporary labourers at the orchards just up the road. They’ve all been young adults eager to start lives of their own after one last summer of freedom. All of them have been much the same, coming and going from Louis’ house with just enough social interaction to keep the house from feeling so empty. But when a global pandemic shuts down the world, being quarantined with a quiet twenty year old who keeps to himself might turn out to be an awkward arrangement. By the time the restrictions have been lifted, their relationship has developed into something Louis isn’t quite ready to give up. With their twenty year age difference, Louis has to be prepared for the inevitable outcome when the reality shatters the private world they’ve been living in. He’s not sure he’ll be able to let it go.
I Think You're Already Home
Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. He can't even remember the last time just standing at an open door didn't send him into a debilitating panic attack. But, against his friend's advice, Louis is ready to add meaning to his life again. He's ready to start a family. So what if he doesn't have an omega? There are plenty of surrogacy services just waiting to help the rich and famous become parents. He just has to find the right one for the job.
Tonight's the Night
Tonight’s the night. The night Harry has been waiting for. Everything has been carefully planned, nothing left to chance, the scene set and waiting for their arrival. It’s time. Harry lives a double life. During the day he's Harry- trusty blood spatter analyst, at night his darkness comes out to play. So far he's been able to act his way through a normal life without drawing attention. What happens when that is no longer the case? Or a Dexter AU where Harry is Dexter, Liam is Doakes, Niall is Masuka and Gemma is Deb.
Sisterwives
This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith. First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task. Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh. Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.
The Post-War BP
The eight year war has left the country's birthrate severely stunted with a lack of virile alphas left to bring it back up. To ensure the survival of the country, the government opens The Breeding Program where young omegas can apply to carry an alpha's child in exchange for benefits. Louis' family is struggling and the BP is one of the only ways to secure a roof over their heads. Harry was drafted at the age of eighteen and spent six years of his life defending a country he doesn't recognize when he returns home. The government made the bed but it's Harry that has to lie in it.
Captain Jack
Captain Jack will get you high tonight And take you to your special island Captain Jack will get you by tonight Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’ Louis has been searching for something and Harry is there to give it to him. Drugs, sex, disappointment, and the tangled web they’ve woven that keeps them trapped in the same cycle.
The Wilds
The creatures that Louis observed every day weren't exactly human, but yet they were. Researchers had plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. Louis didn't think they were. But he was only paid to do the yardwork, he didn't have any say about the wilds that lived there. That was until an unfortunate accident changed his life forever and made one wild in particular his top priority.
Stay Close, Hold Steady
Found on the banks of the Mississippi as an toddler, Harry goes on a quest to find his biological family. Louis tries to be supportive, but maybe he just doesn't want to be left behind.
OmegaVision
Tomlin Networks Presents: OmegaVision starring Louis Tomlinson! The world's first 24/7 reality channel available in over 150 countries worldwide following the life of the first male omega born in over a century. Follow Louis through his daily routine, the ups and downs of growing up or just leave him on for comfort. There are many reasons to tune in but, no matter what yours may be, there's always a part of Louis that is just like you! Or a Truman Show au that nobody asked for where Louis is Truman and Harry just wants to be his mate
Saving's What I Need
We've all had those moments. A flash of something on the side of the road, a swerve, an instinctual slam on the break pedal. This is the story of the one time Louis' reflexes were just not quite quick enough and the beautiful white dog that was on the other side of the impact. He just doesn't know that beautiful dog is Harry.
As We Were, As We Are
Alex is a British soldier who has been injured in battle, Louis is a RAF pilot with amnesia. Somehow they put each other back together even if they get separated along the way.
Woke Up Feeling Knotty
Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.
and the truth shall set you free (...maybe)
Betism: A religion based on the belief that the beta gender has been chosen by God to protect and defend the purity and dignity of the human race by resisting and condemning the lustful ways and flawed biology of the alpha and omega Harry is a Betist and Louis is an alpha who runs with a bad crowd. This is what happens when two worlds collide.
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I hope everyone enjoyed the finale of @mrghostrat's Big Name Feelings Good Omens AU as much as I did. While ghostrat ended his story perfectly with a beautiful and realistic close to the part of their relationship we as an audience get to see, I had one more scene idea close to my heart and so I'm putting it out here because my heart still sings with love for this story and its characters.
These fanscenes now also appear on AO3. Along with the four I've already posted here (1, 2, 3, and 5), you can find a scene I kept off Tumblr ("Ch. 12"). You can read the final scene ("Ch. 17") below, but you can also find it on AO3, where it shows the text messages in graphical form.
Bilv, thank you once again for creating such an amazing story! I'm happy to say that my mind is no longer filled with your middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man problems. Instead, please enjoy these 3k words of pure fluff.
—
Crowley dumped his bag on the hotel room floor and did a lazy spin to take in the space. "Not bad, eh?"
"It's very posh," Newt agreed, setting his bag down more gingerly. "You're sure we can't pitch in for it?"
"I'm not dealing with you setting your phone on fire trying to do a transfer." Crowley waved the offer off and flopped onto the couch. The hotel suite had two small bedrooms plus a nice little sitting area that would be perfect for board games. It was set up to mainly accommodate a family with kids, albeit a family that could afford to splash on a multi-room suite for the family vacation to Spain. Crowley stretched out, shamelessly taking up the whole couch in a bid to ease the stiffness in his hips. "Tell ya what, if you're feeling guilty, you can buy my drinks tonight."
Anathema laughed and gave Crowley a poke in the side, looking quite satisfied at his jerk and yelp. "Knowing you, that will end up being a fair deal. And I'll take care of renting the wheelbarrow to cart you back here."
Crowley rubbed his side dourly. "Maybe I preferred you on the other side of the ocean."
Anathema grinned at him, unrepentant. "If you want to stay at my place while I'm here, I'll lend you my keys." She ducked a thrown pillow with a laugh.
—
The weather was perfect for sipping cocktails outside, and their mutual agreement to all try drinks they'd never had before helped keep the night from slipping away from them too quickly. Being able to chat without the artificial framing of a webcam was a delight, too, but all of them were too continuously connected to be interested in a strict phones-down policy.
Anathema rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink before answering the text that had just popped up on her screen.
Aziraphale: Are you certain he doesn't know I'm nearby? Anathema: I didn't tell him, Newt doesn't know, and he doesn't have a magical angel-detecting sense does he? Aziraphale: I'm not so sure about that last point. Some of his last texts seem awfully pointed. Anathema: You're being paranoid
Anathema slipped her phone away before leaning over to look at Crowley's phone screen, where he was lining up a very artistic shot of his drink, showcasing as much of the swanky beachfront seating area as possible. She blinked at him slowly. "Have you been sending Aziraphale 'wish you were here' texts?"
Crowley glanced at her sideways, his thumb paused over the shutter button. "Maybe."
Anathema sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Are you an adult who can handle a vacation with friends or are you going to pine after your boyfriend all night?"
"I'm here, aren't I? It's not like we're tied together at the hip."
Anathema shook her head in fond exasperation. "Getting these printed on postcards for him would be funnier than this text spam." Crowley barked out a laugh and sent Aziraphale his next promise to take him here sometime anyway.
Anathema pulled out her phone again, tapping out a quick message.
Anathema: He says he's a full-grown adult who can handle being away from you.
There was a pause before Aziraphale responded to her — probably due to dealing with a barrage of messages from Crowley.
Aziraphale: A very convincing claim.
Anathema looked up as Crowley put his phone away. "All done?"
"Yeah, he's taking an early night." Crowley took a languid sip from his drink.
"How have his workshops been going?" Newt asked, fiddling with a vibrant russet cocktail in a type of glass he couldn't name.
"Good!" Crowley's eyes lit up with excitement, his cheeks pink. "We polished his presentation before he left—"
"I heard about that!" Newt cut in. "He said it was more like beta-testing than beta-reading."
Crowley snorted. "If you want to see what happens when someone goes against the script, I'm your guy."
"The reception's been okay?" Anathema asked. "I know getting audience participation at workshops can be pulling teeth."
"Nahhh, it's different in the library world. Those weirdos actually care about their jobs."
"So do I, but it would be pulling teeth to get me to do a 'group active learning exercise.'"
"Fair." Crowley grinned. "They know how to talk like humans, then. And they really are interested in anyone with tips on how to break into digital spaces in an authentic way."
Newt hummed thoughtfully. "He's really okay with talking about his online presence at work like that? I'd be way too embarrassed."
"Nah, you stop caring about that stuff when you get older."
Anathema snorted. "I'm still saying it's pure luck you didn't chase him offline again with that con nonsense."
"Pfffft." Crowley made a sound that was all plosives and no vowels. "Never even close."
"Right," Anathema replied with tasteful sarcasm.
Crowley cut her teasing short by slapping a yellow canvas pouch down on the table. "C'mon. Let's play a game!"
"Oh, Bananagrams!" Anathema accepted the diversion and unzipped the banana-shaped bag, pouring the Scrabble tiles out between them. She deftly started flipping them letter side down. "I don't think Newt's played?"
Crowley nodded and waggled his fingers at the pile of tiles. "Rules are easy: Everyone's building their own board-free Scrabble grid. You start with 21 tiles. Say 'peel' when you've used yours up to make everyone take another tile from the stock. Say 'dump' to trade one of your tiles for three from the stock. The first person to say 'peel' without enough tiles left for everyone to take one wins. Simple, right?"
Newt nodded slowly, watching as Anathema divided the tiles out neatly. "So they're putting Scrabble in bananas these days."
—
Aziraphale: Is he up yet?
Crowley gestured Anathema towards the table where their phones sat in a cuddly pile of charging pads and wires. "You got a message while you were in the shower. From Aziraphale?"
Anathema kept her face carefully schooled as she sauntered over and picked up her phone, using the need to adjust her towel turban as an excuse for not making eye contact. "Mm." She picked it up and read the incriminating message, then snorted. "Bracing himself for when your wall of texts will start, I imagine."
"Nahhh, he loves it!" Crowley snagged the glasses cleaner out of his bag and sauntered into the bathroom. He'd be wearing them all day and he'd murder someone if he had to deal with the scummy film left by hotel soap.
"Whatever you say, lover boy." Anathema breathed a tired sigh.
Anathema: Yeah, and he saw this. We should be at the conservatory by 11
She should have just taken the phone into the bathroom with her, steam be damned.
—
The botanical conservatory was, frankly, gorgeous. The greenhouses were so large the ceilings weren't even noticeable, and the outdoor gardens were a riot of native plants. Crowley devoured the signs about plants he was unfamiliar with with gusto, and pointed out those he recognized with the enthusiasm of a man determined to prove he wasn't hungover. Newt listened with unfeigned interest, while Anathema wasn't shy about slowing them down to take photos of particularly artfully arranged displays.
They'd been there about half an hour when a patter of English broke through the background chatter of Spanish. "Could you spot me the entrance fee for the butterfly room?"
"Aziraphale!" Crowley immediately spun to his right, his whole face lighting up in delight before realizing that seeing him here was, in fact, quite odd. "What are you doing in Spain?"
"I left right after my last workshop. I thought it might make a nice surprise."
"It made the best surprise." Crowley pulled him into an ardent kiss that went on long enough for Anathema to cough something about public displays of affection. Crowley eventually relented on the kiss, as much for the sake of their breathing as anything else, but kept his arm slung firmly around Aziraphale's shoulders. "You're a bit of a bastard, you know that? I could've been looking forward to this the whole time."
"Only as much of a bastard as you deserve," Aziraphale teased right back with easy familiarity. His heart kept pounding hard anyway.
"Heh. What a way to butter me up while you're angling for a free ticket." Crowley snuck another kiss onto Aziraphale's cheek. Aziraphale laughed as he slipped his arm through Crowley's, relishing the contact after their weeks apart.
The butterfly room, when they got in, was a riot of fluttering wings. The promise of iridescence was enough to get Crowley to remove his sunglasses, and a quiet compliment on his eyes from Aziraphale was enough to get him tucking them into his pocket instead of putting them right back on afterwards.
They left the butterfly room — with some careful mutual inspections to make sure no one was harboring a stowaway, involving perhaps a bit more care in running fingers through another's hair than was strictly necessary for the task — and emerged near the exit to the rose garden. Crowley's hand moved towards his sunglasses but Aziraphale put his hand on his arm. "Just a couple more minutes? There's something I want you to see first." Aziraphale glanced over at Anathema, who nodded slightly but otherwise kept her expression carefully uninterested.
Crowley looked between them and shrugged. "Not exactly subtle as far as hangover tests go, but a'ight." Aziraphale laughed breathlessly and kept a firm grip on his arm, drawing him deeper into the garden.
The rose garden featured small offshoots to the main path where groups could sit for a little while to rest. It wasn't until the third one that they came upon an alcove that was empty, and Aziraphale promptly pulled Crowley aside, Anathema holding out her hand to keep Newt just outside it with her.
"Crowley—" Aziraphale began, his breath catching in his throat as he caught Crowley's full attention. "I, ah. I actually came here because there was something I wanted to say."
Crowley's hand twitched reflexively towards his glasses again, but this time he kept it down himself, even as his heart started to pound. "...yeah?"
"Yeah," Aziraphale breathed out as he sank to one knee, reaching into his pocket. His fingers were trembling, and his smile was nervous but so very adoring. "If I ask you something, will you promise to laugh?"
"—huh?" Crowley blinked in confusion, then stared as Aziraphale opened a jewelry box to reveal a simple ring.
"Anthony J. Crowley, would you be my snouse?"
It took a few seconds for Crowley to register any of the words Aziraphale had just said, but then he barked out a laugh as the last one hit him. "Really? That's how you ask?"
"You don't like it?"
"I just... I thought if you did it, you'd do a whole speech for it. You even brought us out to a rose garden!"
"I'll be honest, I had one of those planned. I just... couldn't quite seem to bring it to mind." Aziraphale had no idea how he was managing to talk even as much as he was around the tightness in his throat. "You haven't answered my question, dear."
"Pfft..." Crowley closed both his hands around Aziraphale's. "Yes. Yes, of course I'll be your... your whatever. Forever and always."
"Thank goodness." Aziraphale half rose and was instead greeted by Crowley also kneeling, both of them moving together for a kiss that was slow and deliberate. Aziraphale could feel the pounding of his own pulse against the tight hold Crowley had on his hands, and he could tell how Crowley's heartrate had risen to match his by the way their kiss kept shifting for quick intakes of air. Aziraphale finally broke the contact only so he could gently extricate his hands from Crowley's. It took every scrap of concentration he could scrape together to find Crowley's left hand and slip the ring onto his finger. "...it fit okay?"
"Nggh," Crowley replied before pulling him into another kiss.
They might have stayed there all day if Anathema hadn't cleared her throat — snapping another quick photo as they looked up at her, flushed and frazzled. "We are still in public, I'm afraid."
"Yeah," Crowley breathed.
"Huh..." Aziraphale added, just as coherently.
Newt shook his head at the unlikely prospect of them getting up anytime soon, and looked over at Anathema instead. "How were you so prepared?"
Anathema flashed him a smile. "I knew this was coming. Aziraphale asked me to take the photos."
"Is that why you're here?"
"It was the other way around," Anathema replied. "Aziraphale realized he could arrange his schedule to join our trip partway, and we worked out how to take advantage of the situation."
"Bastard," Crowley muttered in response to nothing and everything, pressing tender kisses to Aziraphale's left ring finger like he could imprint a ring there with his lips. "Did you measure my finger while I slept?"
Aziraphale smiled as he watched him, his heartrate finally settling closer to normal under Crowley's reassuring touches. "It's scarcely my fault you're so easy to send to sleep, dearest."
"You're ridiculous. Adorable. Incorrigible."
"Are those all synonyms in your mind?" Aziraphale leaned in to steal another kiss.
Crowley laughed breathlessly at how easily they'd returned to comfortable teasing and carefully pushed himself up. He tugged his clothing straighter and tried to pretend he was put-together as he glanced at Anathema, who was grinning unabashedly at them. "I'll want those pics for... for everything. All of them."
Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley's arm for support as he straightened his own creaking knees. "I'm claiming Tumblr first, if you don't mind."
"Eh—" Crowley gave him his full attention again, not that it had strayed for more than a moment. "This will really get you notice, Angel."
"Good." Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and leaned in to kiss him. He rubbed his fingertip over the ring settled firmly onto a finger that had never borne one before. "Let them know who's claimed you."
Crowley snaked his arm around Aziraphale's neck, chasing down another kiss that went on long enough to have Anathema clucking behind them. "We're gonna get kicked out of the garden, Angel."
Aziraphale smiled against Crowley's lips. "Let them. The one we made is better."
—
Three bottles of wine sat open and mostly-drunk on the table, divided between four glasses that were using the remnants of the previous night's game of The Quiet Year as a coaster. ("We set it in an idyllic countryside and it all went downhill from there," Crowley had explained when Aziraphale came in and started examining the hand-drawn map. "I think the arrival of the dog was the real turning point to madness," Newt had chimed in. "It was doomed from the start," Anathema declared with a resigned sigh.) The red rings of wine stains could have added as much to the group narrative as anything they'd purposefully drawn.
"I came in like a wrecking ball~! I never hit so hard in love~!" Newt sang raucously, a broad grin on his face while Anathema laughed into her hand. Aziraphale tilted his head as he watched them, visibly processing the music.
"All the other kids with their pumped-up kicks, you better run—!" Anathema joined in as the tune jauntily transitioned to a new melody. Aziraphale's face froze into an expression of fond but intense confusion.
"Problem, Angel?" Crowley drawled, utterly amused as he watched the tableau.
"I'm fairly certain that isn't how those songs go. And isn't that polka?"
"Never heard of Weird Al? Bit bigger overseas, I s'pose." He gestured to Anathema's phone, which was supplying the impromptu karaoke party.
Aziraphale nodded, confusion dissolving and leaving just a hint of distaste in its place. "And a different generation, I suppose." He took another sip of his wine, a nice Syrah, as the melody shifted to a new and equally abrasive polka.
"I wear your granddad's clothes," the millennials continued singing, until one of them glanced at Aziraphale and started laughing and the other followed suit, wineglass held out in an attempt to insulate it from deep belly laughs. Crowley snagged it deftly and set it on the table, another drop of wine rolling down to stain the paper there. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, much more amused at their drunken good humor than offended.
Crowley patted Aziraphale's thigh. "Want to take the rest of that Syrah back to my room and leave the loverbirds to it?"
"It would still be rather noisy if we stayed here," Aziraphale replied with a tempting smile. "Why don't you come back to mine?"
Crowley leaned forward eagerly, only a fraction away from jumping up at the unexpected invitation. "Oh?"
"Well, the room may not wind up being quite as nice as the one you got, but I thought for our first night together as a formally promised couple..." Aziraphale's smile said everything.
"You're a genius." Crowley kissed his cheek and grabbed Aziraphale's hand to pull him up with him, then firmly refused to let it go despite the challenge of tucking a wine bottle under his arm while juggling a wine glass and his phone.
Aziraphale laughed. "We can take two trips, since you'll want your bag. Did you leave it packed?"
"Like always." Crowley grinned. "Not going to rib on me for that ever again, huh?"
"One occasion of convenience is not worth the wrinkles, my dear," Aziraphale responded with all the primness he could muster around a wide grin.
Crowley laughed and took the opportunity of Aziraphale opening the hotel room door to crowd closer and steal an eager kiss that was just as eagerly given. "You really managed to hold in that you'd gotten us a room all day?"
"I kept the trip secret from you too, didn't I?"
"Age will not wither," Crowley chuckled and nipped Aziraphale's ear. "C'mon, let's see that room. Coming back for pyjamas optional."
The two of them left the hotel suite hand-in-hand, with everything they truly needed already right there with them.
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#bnf au#ineffable husbands#fanfiction of fanfiction#my writing#middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man joy
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by Mike Shea on 5 August 2024:
Hasbro may be hurling D&D towards a digital future but we already have everything we need to enjoy this game for the rest of our lives. Hasbro is super-excited for a digital D&D future. They're tired of selling us, as Penny Arcade perfectly describes, a single hamburger we can share with our friends every week for thirty years. Hasbro wants subscription revenue from every player every month – not just the single purchase of a book you can keep, share, and use for the rest of your life. Hasbro doesn't want to sell you D&D. They want you to pay rent. Chris Cocks, Hasbro's president and former president of Wizards of the Coast, is pushing hard for a digital future. He already said they're running experiments with artificial intelligence saying "D&D has 50 years of content that we can mine". The new head of Wizards of the Coast, the subsidiary of Hasbro in charge of D&D, is a former Blizzard executive who replaced a former Amazon and Microsoft executive. They posted a new D&D product architect job with a clear focus on digital gaming and a new "monetization designer" which is as close to "professional enshittifier" as I've heard of in a job description. So yeah, Hasbro is really excited to charge monthly fees and microtransactions for D&D and ensure you never stop paying for it. But I have good news for you. It doesn't matter. Here are four reasons why: 1. The three D&D core books are the only D&D books that really matter and they're going to be physical books. 2. With rulesets released into the Creative Commons, anyone can build digital tools, adventures, supplements, and even entire RPGs – all fully compatible with D&D. 3. We have 50 years of previous versions of D&D we can play, multiple competing and compatible 5e variants from other publishers, and hundreds of other RPGs we can enjoy. 4. We have several independent digital platforms we can use to run our games online.
[keep reading]
So Mike Shea's argument here is that no matter what Hasbro does, D&D is enshittification-proof. Personally, I agree that tabletop games (all of them, not just D&D) are to a large extent resistant to that, due to the nature of the game, but digital platforms are another matter. Then again, I have zero interest in digital platforms, so I don't know how they work. Can you incorporate non-SRD material in an independent VTT, for example? Does it matter? No idea!
For traditional D&D, I think it's always had (in its entire history, all editions!) two distinct modes of attracting people:
here is an Official Book of Rules! I should buy it (or borrow it, or pirate it) and use it, because it's an official and authoritative publication
here is a Good Rule! I should incorporate it in my D&D game because I like it, and I don't care where it came from and in what format, official book, third party, homebrew, DMs Guild, hardcover book, piece of paper, pdf, a reddit post, my own noggin.
But last year, they tried an new thing and released a set of 25 monsters for $6 only on D&D Beyond. No physical print, and no pdf. (Previously there had been digital-only releases, mostly short adventures, but in pdf form.) And although I have no way of knowing how sales went, I strongly suspect this will NEVER work. It's just a bunch of "assets", it doesn't register as an Official Publication, there's no incentive to get it as such. So we're left with "is it a good rule?", and there it competes with a million other rules published for fun and/or profit by other people. Why "buy" that one? (You're not quite buying it: if D&D Beyond goes down, poof go the monsters!)
So yeah, I think they'll try to enshittify tabletop D&D, but they'll go about it half-heartedly (to go full in, they'd have to drop the printed books, and there's NO WAY they'll do that), and simply no one will care, D&D doesn't work like that.
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Hi everyone! As many of you know, my partner and I's cat, Potsticker, was admitted to the ER over the weekend. He's doing much better now! But the bill is going to be tough for us, especially when considering rent + my partner being in grad school. Thus, im selling some prints!! More info can also be found on my insta: https://www.instagram.com/p/CrmQ2I8P4-6/
HOW TO ORDER: DM this form to @salmonbyte
Name (as to appear on package)
Full Shipping Address (INCLUDING ZIP)*
Names + Quantities of each print
Payment Method (Venmo or PayPal only)
(International shipping available, but costs may vary! All prices are listed in USD.)
All prints are…
12x12 inches
on archival matte paper
unframed with no bleed
shipped from California via USPS, FREE US shipping !!
If you also just want to leave a small tip, my venmo is @/salmonbyte !! Thanks so much everyone!
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Henrow blorbo
first off, ohmyfuckinggodyouaresocoolllllllllllllllll
secondly, what ya workin' on currently? <- is deathly interested, yes please please please info dump if you have the spoons
- Ryan
Bonjour my furry friend. At the moment i'm mostly working on getting a job so that i can afford rent, but when i'm not doing that, i'm working on designing some new N-substituted 5MeO-tryptamines (in order to avoid being banned for breaking tumblr TOS, i can't say exactly what for, but if you look up 5MeO-tryptamines, you should see). So far i've only managed to make things that make me super sleepy (and maybe a tiny bit inebriated), so presumably my body is mainly metabolizing them into melatonin. I also have been working on working through the details of making a rocket engine which relies on both muon catalyzed fusion and z-pinch fusion (mostly because even though i know it's way above what i'm probably capable of, i just love space so much i desperately need to see it for myself and i figure that since rockets are so absurdly expensive, the only way i'll end up in space is if we can get a whole new generation of ultra-efficient rockets (for example, given p-N14 fusion, if we manage to get 1% or more (i don't really expect more than 0.1% max, but still) of the hydrogen fusing with nitrogen, we'd be able to put 150 tons on the moon from earth with only using about enough fuel to fill a small car (instead of needing a skyscraper sized rocket to send maybe 30 tons)). Now, if it were as easy as my calculations show it to be, i can't imagine how there are any rockets flown that aren't fusion, but seeing as i haven't even made a working proof of concept yet, i'm not in a position to criticize the thousands of aerospace engineers who are working on conventional chemical rockets. I love fusion because it's simultaneously so easy (i live pretty close to an old uranium mine where i can actually pan some uranium out of the creek near me, then use that uranium to make a neutron source (B10(α,n)) which is really just fusion between helium and boron, happening at room temperature because of how high energy the α particles released by uranium are) and so absurdly difficult (without catalysts like muons, it requires absurdly high temperatures and pressures that almost always take more energy put in than they can give out). Anyway, i've also been sorta working on studying a material that a while back i got way too excited over and may have called a room temperature superconductor (almost certainly not the case), but in an attempt to make it more pure and study it for real i've been trying to work on the exact calculations of its composition and finding a better way to heat it up to high temperatures (i might just put it in a flat-bottomed flask, especially since it finally warmed up enough for me to go back outside where the fumes released by its production won't make folks mad).
And then there's the biological experiments, currently with electroceutical tissue modifications since most of the other projects i have planned require me to have a gene printer capable of reliably printing genes thousands of base pairs long and i'm not sure when i'll be able to build that. The most recent thing i've been working on is really exciting because if it works it means that i've successfully done something that has never been done before to a human body (and given the long lasting pain in that part of my thigh, it seems very possible it is working), but i'm hesitant about sharing what the project is because i don't really want folks putting gap junction blockers, calcium channel blockers, and sodium channel blockers into open wounds without knowing how to do it safely and correctly to get the desired results and not just a really messed up wound. If/when this experiment turns out well, i might give directions in private, but i'm still somewhat hesitant due to the risks inherent in this (the biggest and most likely is literally giving yourself a form of cancer, something i'm not eager for others to risk). Soon i might try chemical dedifferentiation of skin cells (thinking on my back or upper arms) followed by some mildly dangerous experiments to test how reliably i can make it turn into other cell types. And while i haven't made good work on it in a while, i've also been trying to make something similar to shimmer from arcane (ideally not addictive or harmful to the user, but most importantly the quick energy burst, decreased pain, and increased regenerative abilities (obviously it won't be anywhere near as dramatic as in the show, so calling it shimmer may not really make sense, but it is where i got the inspiration)).
Then i suppose there's the battery project i was talking about in my last post, and i'm also trying to learn how to make alcohol under my desk (i mean, it's super easy, it just doesn't taste great). There might be a few more things i'm working on but rn i'm super eepy and have talked about a lot already. If this seems like i'm doing a lot or impressive, also note that i'm actively failing out of college (for my own pride: the material is super easy and mostly i already know it, i just can't stand wasting so much of my time doing homework that doesn't help anyone or anything) and not yet working a job, so i have a lot of time and so much free brainspace to think about and do all this. I also work very slowly on each thing because i keep bouncing back and forth between all of them and almost always end up adding new projects before i've finished the old ones and so i almost never see a project all the way through to completion (at least some of the bio projects are just sitting in my body and i am just waiting to see how they turn out in the next 2-3 months, so those necessarily will see completion, even if it's failure). I really hope i see the fusion rocket to completion because if i don't think i'll ever be able to see the earth from afar or the moon from up close.
#idk#answer to your ask#i hope this is mostly complete#also wow this is long#that's what she said#i'm kinda surprised how many projects i have#i don't often count them#but yeah here they are#i promise i'm not trying to use this for evil#also college kinda sucks because everyone assumes you know nothing and are incapable of learning#not saying you shouldn't go but just that in my experience it ain't worth it#you can learn so much more from the internet and free courses offered online (oer and mit opencourseware are good starting places)#also now that i've shared these projects i hope that makes me feel more accountable and have more need to actually finish all of them#i have so much schoolwork i gotta do and probably won't#1.37 gpa first semester was impressively bad#legitimately went into college thinking i would be challenged and enjoy it but now it's like#“wow i know all of this and yet i am required to spend 8+ hours on homework each day in order to pass even with perfect test scores”#anyway sorry that probably sounds like i'm being super annoying#these tags are getting super long#byeeeeee
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SecurityGuard! Denki AU
"So...my job Is to just watch these robots all night?" Denki asked skeptically to the man in front of him.
Said man just gave a too wide smile to the younger boy, sending goosebumps down his spine "Of course! With your 'quirk', you'll be perfect for the job!" He responded, walking Denki thought the old abandoned building that looked like an 80's time capsule
When Denki set out to find a summer job so his aunt wouldn't send him back to Japan, he was prepared to do just about anything to get the money to pay the"Summer Rent" his aunt makes him pay that allows him to stay at her house in Hurricane Utah. But as he looked around at the deteriorating building and the rusting old robots or 'Animatronics' that stood in front of him, he couldn't help but feel a sinking pit in his stomach and a little voice in the back of his head telling him to run.
Looking down at the printed Craigslist ad he brought with him, he read,
HELP WANTED
Freedy Fazbear Pizza
Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift. 12am to 6am.
Monitor cameras,ensure safety to equipment and anamitronic characters
Not reasponsible for injury/dismemberment.
150$ a week.
to apply call, 1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR
The add looked sketchy as all hell and it doesn't take a genius to tell that something is seriously wrong with the old building he was currently in. But by the time he had found the addlisting, it was almost the end of the week and the deadline given to him by his aunt to get a job.
He's desperate ok? As much as he hates having to spend his summer breaks in America and not at home, he knows that if he is sent back because he forgot save to up the money that he was suppose to take with him, as part of the deal his parents made with his aunt to let him stay with her, he would be grounded until next summer.
So, at the late hours of 2:30am in a sleep deprived haze, a botched resume and a series of not so smart choices later, Denki applied for the Job. The next morning, when he realized what he did, it was already too late, and they wanted him there as soon as possible for an interview.
He got there in a rush, printing out the job listing to look over later and just deciding to not look a gifted horse in the mouth. Who cares if he has no clue what he applied for? He'll probably figure it out.
When he got to the place, He was immediately on guard. Then it got worse when the creepy interviewer showed up with his cheary energy that was just a tad on the far side.
Also, Apparently, this was less an interview, but more of a sales pitch for the job. by what he picked up from the man as he gave him a tour of the building, everyone quits the job either by the end of their first night or some time later.
No one has worked here for more than a week.
The job was basically guaranteed to him. But the real question was with all that he had learned so far plus the non liability forms he was just handed, if he was willing to risk it?
"And you're saying no one has ever worked for more than a week?" Denki asked, looking up at the man
"Yes, and it's such a shame because since so many people leave before the week ends, they don't end up getting payed" The man said flippantly
"Uh huhhhh" Denki started slowly "And these papers?”
"Non liability forms the company hands out to every security guard”
"Riiiiight. Because I can get hurt in this job”
"You will be working with electricity, but I doubt that would be an issue for you” Right, he knew his quirk for some reason.
"I'm more concerned about the part that say 'Dismemberment' actually” Along side the fact that they are apprerantly allowing a 16 year old work the night shift
"I don't see what the issue or confusion is here Mr. Kaminari?" They says tilting his head at him "In your resume you stated that you have experience with machinery and security? and I'm pretty sure we talked about all the job detailes last night on the phone when I gave you your interview”
The what now-
"Here, I even have your job application here" the creepy man says, handing him a piece of paper out of a folder he was carrying
Looking it over, he reads:
Job Requirements. Must be experienced in security and electronics. Must be drug free while on the clock. Must not have a criminal record. Must be over the age of 18
DATE OF APLICATION: July 3rd of 20--
NAME: Denki Kaminari
ADDRESS: ‐------ Ohio/--------Mastufusa
TELEPHONE: +#########
AGE: 21
NATIONALITY: Japanese
WORK ExP: 3 year of security in "The nether inco."
EDUCATION: collage graduate
POSITION APPLIED TO: Security guard
Must be over 18 too work here...
...Well shit.
"Well then" Denki said, looking grimly up at the practically rotting robots,
He felt the buzz coming from his phone telling him his aunt is looking for him. Probably wanting him out of the house. Just like his parents…
Shutting off his phone, he smiles back at the aging man in purple handing back the forms "When do I start?”
Well, he thinks as he signs the the non liability papers, at least if he's injured, he will be able to sue due to their negligence to do a background check on him.
At the gleaming eyes the man had at his words, he couldn't help but think what did he just get himself into.
#fnaf x mha#mha denki#denki kaminari#fanfic#crossover fic#crossover prompt#security guard#au#fnaf au#mha au#denki: welp#I'm doing this ig#send asks
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Amid the WGA strike, let me talk about an other group of underpaid, undervalued writers: freelance journalists.
Their work can be found everyday in newspapers, magazines and digital media. Some are willing to risk their life to cover wars. Others are experts in technology, in business, in social issues, in architecture or fashion, can talk at length about the latest trends or the main challenges of an industry. Publications around the world don’t hesitate to use them for their experience and contacts.
Yet, the average fee for a story hasn’t changed since…1980. It means that freelance journalists are paid less than they were 40 years ago. Some publications even have the nerve to offer nothing but the promise of visibility, as if a byline could pay for groceries or rent. Sure, they can try to negotiate, but at the risk of losing the contract altogether.
Digital and print outlets usually pay only after publication or at least after they receive the story. This means hours of work in the form of research, interviews, transcribing and writing are unpaid labor, and freelancers often get paid weeks or months after completing their story. Pitching story ideas is also time-consuming and not a guarantee of work. In the last 15 years, some of my ideas were shamelessly stolen and given to a staff writer.
There are no sick days and no paid time off. No workplace protections and no benefits. You have to be incredibly passionate about your work to keep going, year after year after year.
If you’re still reading my endless post, I'm sorry to inform you that I don’t have any solution to offer. I just wanted to shed some light on the conditions freelance reporters are facing.
#freelance journalist is a hard job let me tell you#it's a calling at this point#freelancers unite#sorry for the long post#i had to get this off my chest
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I was always the paperwork person in the marriage when it came to doing that sort of thing, like filing our taxes, renewing vehicle registration, researching and enrolling in the following year's insurance plans during the annual enrollment periods, and taking care of any other documents that have popped up over the years for either one of us or both of us.
I'm taking on that role again now, for the last time. (I never thought I'd actually be sad about having to do less paperwork.)
I spent well over 5 hours (interrupted sometimes by bouts of crying to the point of getting sick) researching and acquiring forms for what I'd need to do for an uncontested divorce with no legal representation -- from filing the petition to the final decree with the court appearance and our testimonies.
Printed off 40+ pages of forms and a guided testimony template for each of us. I neatly filled out what I was able to, which was the vast majority of it fortunately.
The only thing I wasn't able to finish filling out was the final decree because I'm not entirely sure what we're going to do about the house we shared that he's currently moving out of.
I learned during my research that the judge has to feel like the division of community property is fair and just to finalize the divorce.
That might be a problem.
What my ex-husband had in mind was him taking ownership of the house and me staying here rent free for a certain period of time.
After that period of time came to an end, he planned to use the house as a rental property.
I would be free to remain here as a tenant if I did pay rent and utilities, but that would involve me having roommate(s) or a significant other move in with me. I wouldn't be able to afford to stay here otherwise, unless I have a major change in financial circumstances between now and then.
Working out that sort of arrangement legally would absolutely require a lawyer, which are super expensive, and that's something we're very much trying to avoid. And I'm not sure if a judge approving that arrangement is even possible period, to be honest.
There are also some other complications when it comes to that arrangement.
The mortgage is in both of our names, and he'd apparently have to refinance to remove my name.
The problem with that is that the mortgage currently has an interest rate of about 3%, and refinance rates are 6.5% at the moment.
I absolutely wouldn't force him to do that.
I'll have to talk to him after he gets back from his vacation to figure out what he wants to do.
I've been so ridiculously emotional for the last several hours that I can't fall asleep.
I'm also very nervous and stressed about my appointment tomorrow afternoon with the employment network provider.
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