#i made this once and i think tumblr ate it so i made it again??
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🐮🐄
send me a 🐮 and i will refresh my pinterest and give u my first four pics as a random moodboard
#thank you for asking friend!! 💕#pinterest#ask game#i made this once and i think tumblr ate it so i made it again??
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OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#cw blood#cw gore#jrwi suckening#jrwi suckening spoilers#vex waylin#viv waylin#MY FAVORIT EP!! HAVNT SEEN IT IN FOREVER THO BC WELL. IM BUSY. SO BEAR W ME IM RUNNIN OFF ALOTTA MEMORY FUMES#ALSO EDIT BC FUUUCK I HADMORE TAGS BUT TUMBLR FUCKEN ATE EM. OH WELL. MY DMS R OPEN IF U WANNA UNLOCK RAMBLES.#I LOVE THE WAYLIN TWINS SSSOO FUCKING MUCH IM SO!!! CURIOUS ABOUT THEM!!! WHO WERE THEY WHEN THEY WERE HUMAN? HOW LONGVE THEY BEEN ARND?#I LOVE IT WHEN PPL SAY ITS LIKE THESE TWO WERE MADE FOR MMEE BC YES!! YES!! ITS EVERYTHING I COULD EVER WANT FROMA CHARACTER!!!#I LOVE THEIR RED WHITE N BLACK COLOR SCHEME. I LOVE HOW THEYRE BOTH SO INTELLIGENT AND GENIUS N YET THEYRE DUMB AS FUUUUCK#COOOMICAL SUPER VILLAINS. OOH ILL GET YOU NEXT TIME SHAMIA SHAMAI!!! HOW DARE YOU FOIL MY PLAN!! MY PLANS OF MUTILATING AWAKE N ALIVE PPL#COMICAL AND YET. GENUINELY HORRIFYING. VIV CAN MAKE UR BONES EXPLODE JUST BY THINKING ABOUT IT. VEX CAN BECOME SOUP#WHY DONT WE TALK ABOUT THAT MORE? THE TURNING INTO RED MEAT SLIME?? METAL AS FUUUCK. I ALSO LOVE HOW SCARED THEY GOT SO QUICKLY#THIS LIL FUCKEN RRRRRAT COMES IN. AND WELL. HES JUST LIKE ALL THE OTHERS. WE FUCK HIM UP N TOSS HIM INTO THE SUN N LET HIM BURN#SURE HE HAD ONE MORE TRICK OF REBELLION UP HIS SLEEVE BUT THE SUN HAS TAKEN HIM NOW. ITS FINE. WE'RE FINE. HEY IS THERE SMTH IN THE CEILING#OHHH WE KILLED HIM ONCE N HE CAME BACK. WE KILLED HIM AGAIN N TOOK HIM APART BUT THEN HES BACK?? HE GETS AWAY AND THEN. COMES BACK. AGAIN.#WE CANT GET RID OF HIM. THAT FOUL SHAMIA SHAMAI. A MOUSE IN OUR KITCHEN. FUUUUCK HES GONNA SPREAD DISEASE! KILL IT! KILL IT!! AAAUUGH FUCK!#I LOVE THAT THE WAYLIN TWINS AGREED TO HELP THE BLONDE TWINS MOSTLY ON THE BASIS OF 'IT WOULD BE FUNNY' BUT ALSO#OOHHH WE ARE SO CLOSE TO REACHING SOMETHING TO MAKE HIM NNEEVER FUCK WITH US AGAIN. HIS ILLUSIONS WILL HAUNT US NO LONGER#THEY WERE SSSOOO PARANOID W ALL THE CAMERAS AND BOMBING THEIR OWN LAB AND RUNNING AND RUNNING AND GETTING AWWAY FROM THIS FUCKEN! MOUSE!!!!#OHHHH I THINK IM RUNNIN OUTA ROOM so ill talk about da art real quick.BEEN WORKIN ON THIS FOR A WHIIILE.ALOTTA THESE were started when the#ep came out.so OLD!! BUT DONE!!and im very very happy w my colors n gore n EXPRESSIONS!! the top right corner comic keeps making me chuckle#I ALSO rly love the lil convo between arthur n viv.theyre SO CUTE TOGETHERR they should go ona museum date together or somethin#they need more time to just talk abt da World together.ALSO CAN I BE PETTY.I MADE ARTHUR UGLY CORRECT-STYLE#THESE BOYS KNOW NOTHING OF UGLY.I MADE THE VAMPIRIC FLESH EVOLVE N ROT N BLOSSOM AND THERE IS SQUIRMING WITHIN THE TENEBRAE#UHHH IEAH THIS GUY W A ROTTED N DISTORTED FACE WALKS INTO MY BIKE STORE IEAH IM SCREAAAMIN LIKE WADDA HELL!! MONSTOR!!!
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Making Caramel Apples Alastor x Reader
(Welcome to Haztober day one! I will be posting a new Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss inspired fic every day of October! I hope you enjoy! Also I know I’m technically posting this on the 30th….but it’s 7:45 for me…so…It’s literally October first. Also why isn’t tumblr schedule posting working??? So confused.)
Alastor wasn’t one to usually participate in group activities usually liking to be on his own but, maybe he���d participate this one time. He closes the book he was reading and places it down nicely. He stands from his spot, straightens his bowtie and suit and then starts to walk over to where the group activity was. Alastor walks up behind the others and watches them decorating the hotel. Of course Alastor wouldn’t participate at all if there was a possibility of getting dirty (with all the glitter glue from Charlie). So he just watched for now.
“Hi Alastor!” He heard an excited voice from behind him. Alastor turned his head to see who was speaking and saw it was you. He smiled wider and put his hands in his pockets. “Ah. It’s a pleasure to see you, My dear. What are we doing around here if you don’t mind me asking?” He tilted his head and leaned a bit more forwards towards you, curious to hear your response.
“Oh! I’m making caramel apples!” You exclaim happily. “Ahh. That’s wonderful. How are they turning out so far? Have they tasted very good or have the apples been rotten within?” Alastor chuckled to himself, amused by his own joke. He had a dark sense of humor but sometimes his words could be taken seriously. “W-what? Uhm…I don't think so…” You say worriedly, holding up one of the un-caramelized apples and checking it. He laughed and waved a hand. “I’m only joking, dear. I’m sure they’re fine.” Alastor looked down at the apples, still a little suspicious. “You haven’t been eating them have you?” He asks. “Maybe like one or two…but now I’m seriously concerned.” You say, your voice wavering with uneasiness.
“And you didn’t get sick..?” Alastor tilted his head curiously. He still couldn’t really believe that someone had eaten a couple of the apples that he was now slightly convinced could be rotten. “I ate them like a minute ago….how long does it take for poison to kick in!?” You say, your heart racing with anxiety and paranoia. “Well, that depends on the poison I believe- Wait, did you actually EAT them!?” Alastor asks, now worried as well.
You suddenly feel dizzy, and pass out due to stress. Alastor quickly caught you. He didn’t want you falling to the ground head first and possibly waking up with a huge headache. He held you up by your shoulder and lowered his ear to your mouth, listening for a second to see if you were breathing. Once Alastor heard and felt your breathing he slowly placed you on the ground, but he made sure your head rested against his knee so you would be comfortable.
Alastor was kneeled down beside you, he had his arm holding your hand. His ears twitched and he looked down at you as you awoke again. “Are you alright, my dear?” He hummed softly in thought and gave you a light squeeze of your hand before letting it go. “You just passed out a second ago. I had caught you before you fell and I didn’t want you to get a headache. How are you feeling exactly? Your head isn’t hurting too badly is it?”
“I'm fine.” You reassure him. He nodded his head and looked you up and down for a moment to make sure you didn’t have any wounds that were unnoticed due to your fainting. “You don’t feel sick at all? No nausea or anything?” You shake your head. He relaxed a little more once you said that, no nausea was pretty good. That indicated you weren’t poisoned. “Well, that’s good. Would you like to sit up or something, or perhaps a glass of water-?”
“Can we make the apples together?” You interrupted. Alastor seemed taken aback by your request. He definitely didn’t expect that response from you. Alastor tilted his head questionably and then smiled. “You want to make the apples together.. with me? You actually trust me to do it with you?” He asks. “Yeah, why not?” He chuckled softly and nodded his head in agreement, he was actually really surprised at your enthusiasm and eagerness to work with him. Most of the time he didn’t get many requests to work together with him unless it involved a deal. “Alright, I suppose I’ll help make the apples with you. But no funny business, dear.” You agree and start dipping the apples in the caramel together.
Alastor made sure to be cautious with anything to do with food. Especially after just seeing you pass out. He was sure you just fainted from stress and anxiety, but still. He carefully dipped each apple into the caramel, making sure to coat the apple in the thick sticky caramel. Alastor finished coating each apple he dipped into the caramel sauce and had placed each one on its respective plate. This was already a lot more effort that he ever put into one of Charlie’s group activities. He then wiped his gloved hands together to get rid of any caramel that got stuck to his hands. He seemed happy with the outcome of the caramel apples he and you had made together.
“I believe the task is finished…” Alastor says as he finishes cleaning up. “Well, that wasn’t too bad.” He said with a small chuckle. “It was really fun! Thank you for the help!” You say happily. The idea of doing a group activity and actually having fun was a new, almost bizarre concept to Alastor. Especially when it was just making caramel apples. He smiled wider and chuckled. “Yes, it certainly was… entertaining.”
He looked down at the finished caramel apples and seemed quite pleased that they turned out so well. He was actually quite proud of the work you and he had done, and this was a new feeling to him when it came to group activities. He then looked at you and tilted his head softly with a smile. “Perhaps we’ll do more activities together in the future, my dear.” Alastor says. “That would be fun.” You say as you pick up the tray with the apples and put them in the fridge. “I’ll see you later!” Alastor nodded as he watched you take the tray to the fridge. A part of him felt kind of warm inside which was strange. Was it from the group activity? He wasn’t sure, but it was… different and warm. He smiled a little wider watching you walk off. “I’ll see you later, my dear.” He says with content.
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor x you#hazbin hotel fanfiction#vox x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x oc#hazbin#radio demon#cursed cat alastor#hazbin hotel fanart#alastor the radio demon#alastor#vaggie hazbin hotel#hazbin art#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin vox#hazbin lucifer#hazbin vees#the vees#hazbin hotel vees#poly vees#radio silence
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how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?
hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!
Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:
When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori
John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori
John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori
He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori
TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof
Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?
In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.
TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL
there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry
I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)
How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate
#john gaius#nona the ninth#the locked tomb#tlt meta#i need to fix my tagging system fr#john meta#tlt thoughts#trb.txt#if anyone wants to add anything or correct anything PLS do so!!! i did my best hope this helps anon. this took me 2 hours
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please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,
okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]
sangria
pairing: brothersbestfriend!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader wc: 4k tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]
link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸
okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.
you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.
the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.
you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.
you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.
you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.
he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.
you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.
mukrrrrrrrrrrrr
molwwwwwwwwww
gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL
exhibit a.
y/n are you drunk
….
………..
…………………………….
y/n
4 F R E E dwinks
downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH
pArTyz rool xp
mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?
"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"
mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."
he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.
harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...
he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.
your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.
you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.
you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.
he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.
"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.
he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.
you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"
"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."
"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"
mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.
"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."
"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.
"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.
you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."
"y/n..."
"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."
"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"
"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”
"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"
mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.
"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“
"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."
your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,
"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."
you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.
you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."
"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."
"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."
"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”
"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.
he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.
there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.
"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."
he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.
you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.
"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."
he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.
"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."
mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.
"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."
your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.
"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.
"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.
the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"
"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.
it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.
your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.
you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.
"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...
"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.
he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?
"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.
it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.
he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.
he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".
you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.
when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.
you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.
this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.
"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?
"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."
you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.
"me too, y/n. me too."
this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!
faire's seedlings ✿
@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear
#fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf fic#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#faire's mike schmidt <3#faire is writing stuff#josh hutcherson#faire answers asks#this man is sweet and gross and that's hot tbh#like...to ruin someone so close to you....having to keep it secret#lord jesus christ
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Extreme Proof – Steve Harrington
Tumblr Request by theamunsonsworld
My heart sank into my stomach when I looked up and saw Nancy Wheeler walking up to the ice cream counter. My stomach turned when I realized that it was Steve's turn at the cash register. I couldn't help but watch their interaction. They seemed. . . Perfect.
Steve and Nancy always seemed perfect. His smile was different. His laugh was different. His whole demeanor and attitude were different when he was around his ex-girlfriend. And I couldn't help but wonder why he settled for me.
I knew Steve and Nancy when they were dating. Well, I didn't know them know them. I grew up with them. I was in the same grade as Nancy and lived next to Steve and his parents. After they broke up, I could instantly tell that it had a bigger effect on Steve than it did on Nancy. She quickly moved on. He didn't.
Later that year, I started working at the ice cream shop within the new mall. I ended up being trained with Robin. Two months later, I trained Steve. It took him almost a week to recognize me as his neighbor. Once he made that connection, he put more of an effort into being nice to me. It wasn't until one night when the three of us got high while pretending to complete inventory that things finally escalated between us.
~ • ~
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Robin giggled. Her laughter made Steve and I laugh.
"Probably not," he shrugged.
"Definitely not," I corrected. "But who cares?!"
All three of us started laughing harder. All of a sudden, Robin jumped up and ran into the other room complaining about being hungry. I looked over at Steve, both of our laughter stopping. I cleared my throat and turned away from him, taking a puff. Without looking at him, I handed the blunt to him. He took it but didn't let go of my hand.
"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered.
"For what?" I asked, forgetting why I wasn't looking at him.
"For forgetting you," he explained, his voice still soft.
"Steve," I sighed, finally pulling my hand out of his.
"Y/N," he quickly said, stopping me from walking away. "We spent our entire childhoods living right next to each other. I constantly looked over."
"You did?" I said, even though I had told myself not to respond.
"Every time I looked over at you, you guys always looked so happy," he said, maintaining perfect eye contact. "You ate dinner together. You watched movies together. Your dad helped you with your homework. You spent every weekend helping your dad with yard work and helping your mom with housework. I was so jealous."
"Why?"
"You guys did everything as a family," he said. "And all I wanted was to be a part of it."
"A part of it?" I repeated. "Why would you want to be a part of my. . ."
Steve leaned over and cut me off by pressing his lips to mine. My mind was too cloudy for me to make any sense of this. So, instead of making sense of it, I gave in. I started kissing him back and things slowly escalated. We probably would've gone the whole way if Robin hadn't literally fallen into the room.
~ • ~
After that night, I didn't work the weekend. Another teenager asked for extra hours and I gave up mine. Monday, when I finally went back to work, I walked in and instantly made eye contact with Steve. Before either one of us was forced to fill the awkward silence, I went to the back room and found my name tag. I turned around and was about to walk back out when I suddenly wasn't alone.
~ • ~
"Steve," I gasped. "I was just. . ."
He cut me off by grabbing my hands and pulling me closer. "I think we need to talk."
"We really. . ."
He cut me off again by pressing his lips to mine. I was clear-headed and still didn't hesitate to kiss him back. As our lips moved in sync, I let out a small chuckle. My laugh made Steve slowly break the kiss.
"What?" He asked with a small smirk on his face.
"I seem to see a pattern developing," I teased.
"And what pattern is that?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
"From what I can remember from last Thursday," I smiled, "you seem to only kiss me when you want me to shut up."
"First of all," he started to list off, "there are worse ways to tell someone to shut up. And second, that's not the only reason I kissed you."
"Really?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Of course it's not," he whispered. "The truth is Y/N, I have feelings for you."
My heart jumped into my throat as Steve stared at me with soft eyes. "You do?" I whispered, not sure what else to say to him. "Since when?"
"Since we were kids," he said simply.
"All that time?" I stuttered. Steve smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
"All that time."
~ • ~
Things changed after that. Steve took me on lunch dates, rearranged his work schedule so we were on the same shift, and even came by the days he didn't work and I did. As good as everything was for us, I couldn't shake this feeling that something was hovering over us. It didn't take long for me to figure out what was hovering over us.
When it got too painful to watch Steve take Nancy's ice cream order, I turned around and instantly grabbed the broom from the storage closet. I kept my back to the counter as I swept the floor. When I was done, I instantly started cleaning tables.
"I thought I was on cleanup duty," Robin said. I didn't dare turn around. I didn't want to watch Steve make Nancy's ice cream sundae. I heard Robin sigh before she grabbed my hand. She took the rag and tossed it onto an empty booth before dragging me to the small lounge we had back behind the counter.
"Talk," she demanded.
"About what?"
"Don't play dumb," she sighed. She lowered her voice as she continued, "I know what you're thinking, Y/N. Steve is not in love with Nancy."
"It's just. . ."
"He's not," she cut me off. "Steve and Nancy happened a long time ago. He's so much happier now, Y/N. Now that he has you."
"I can't help but. . ."
"What?" She pushed me when I didn't continue.
"I can't let go of the feeling that Steve still has feelings for her," I confessed. I looked up and saw Steve and Nancy still talking at the counter. "See?"
Robin turned around and sighed when she saw my boyfriend talking to his ex-girlfriend. "I'm sure you're reading into it," she stuttered. "I mean. . ."
I didn't hear whatever excuse she was struggling to come up with. Instead, I went to the back freezer and started unloading random things. I jumped when two arms wrapped around me.
"You know I love you, Robin," I said, trying to tease, "but not like that."
"Ha ha," Steve laughed sarcastically as he spun me around. His smile faltered when he saw the look on my face. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Why wouldn't it be?"
I walked away and reached down, picking up a tub of our new flavor that's been selling fast. Steve walked over, gently grabbed it out of my hands, and placed it back on the shelf.
"What's going on, baby?" He asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.
"It's nothing," I stuttered, matching his tone.
"Robin told me."
My stomach dropped. I pulled my hands out of his and instantly wrapped my arms around myself.
"Baby," he sighed, gently grabbing my arms and pulling me closer. "We've talked about this. There is nothing between me and Nancy anymore."
He started to lean in to kiss me, but I gently stopped him. "We should get back to work," I said softly. I started walking out of the freezer, but he grabbed my wrist.
"No," he said firmly. "Y/N, we need to talk about this. We have talked about this. I know you think you aren't good enough for me, but, baby, you need to get passed those insecurities."
"Get passed them," I scoffed, stepping away from him. "Like it's so easy. Tell me, Steve, how easy was it for you to get past your insecurities with high school and being known as Steve "the Hair" Harrington? Not so easy, huh?"
"That's not fair," he sighed.
"You don't get it," I said, my voice breaking. "Nancy. . . She's. . . Nancy Wheeler is everything that I'm not."
"Except for one thing," Steve quickly interjected. "She isn't the girl I want to be with. She's not you, Y/N. And I want to be with you."
"You have to try to understand, Steve. This isn't easy for me. I mean. . . I've never had a serious boyfriend before and. . . Seeing you with her. . . It's not easy on me, okay? It just. . ."
"What?" He asked a little too harshly. "Try and explain it to me, Y/N."
"I can't," I whispered. "And if you can't understand it then. . ."
"Then what?" He sighed, clearly losing his patience with me.
"Then maybe we shouldn't be together."
Before he could agree with me or fight for me, I turned on my heels and ran. I ran out of the ice cream shop, out of the mall. When I got outside, I stopped for a brief second and let out a small scoff.
It was raining.
"Of course," I mumbled. I looked around, my eyes landing on the payphone. I ran through the rain toward the payphone. I grabbed some coins out of my pocket and called my brother.
"Speak!" He answered.
"Eddie," I said, my voice breaking.
"What happened?" His whole demeanor changed. "Y/N, what's wrong?"
"I think. . . I think Steve and I just broke up."
"What?!" I covered my mouth to muffle my sob as Eddie continued to angrily mumble. "I swear I am going to. . . It'll be the last thing. . . I'm gonna kill. . . Wait, what happened?"
"Nancy came into the shop today," I said, my voice shaky.
"Y/N," Eddie sighed. "Steve is not still in love with Nancy. It's all in your head."
"But you didn't see them together, Ed," I instantly defended myself.
"Look," he said gently, "I know you've had your issues with your self-confidence and with constantly comparing yourself to Nancy Wheeler, but, you gotta stop. It doesn't matter that Steve and Nancy used to have a thing. He's not with her anymore."
"He's with me," I cut him off. "I know. I know. But it's not like it was his choice."
"What are you talking about?"
"She broke up with him, Eddie," I said, my voice dropping.
"So?"
"That doesn't mean he stopped loving her."
"Y/N," he sighed. "I believe Steve when he says he doesn't love Nancy anymore. Why don't you?"
"Because why would he want me?" I yelled, finally letting out all my insecurities and frustrations. "I'm boring, Eddie. I don't have any friends. All I do is go to school, come home, do my homework, and go to bed a 9. Why would Steve "the Hair" Harrington fall for someone as boring as me? I'm not smart. I'm not funny. I'm not beautiful. I'm not enough for him, Eddie. Why does no one else understand this?!"
I slammed the phone back onto its receiver and turned around. Usually, Steve takes me home from work, but I had to get out of here. I saw the bus at the bus stop and instantly started running towards it in hopes of catching it.
One minute I was running through the rain. The next, I was falling. As I landed, I hit my head hard. I tried to think. I tried to sit up. I tried to move, but it was like I was frozen. Soon, the world started to spin. It wasn't long before the darkness took over. But right before it did, I thought I heard someone yell my name.
"Y/N?!"
* * * * *
I woke up a little while later being warmer than I was when I first fell asleep.
"I told you, Eddie," I heard my Uncle Wayne sigh, "she hit her head pretty hard. She may be out for a couple of more hours."
"She's awake," I heard Steve say with a small chuckle.
"How do you. . ." Eddie didn't finish his question when he turned around and saw me watching them. I was back in my room and the three of them were standing in the doorway.
I smiled when Eddie ran to my side. He was already sitting next to me and holding my hand by the time Uncle Wayne walked into my room.
"How are you feeling, kiddo?" He asked me.
"Okay," I shrugged. "I think. I mean. . . I'm a little confused."
"You slipped," Steve said, his voice softer than normal.
"What?" I stuttered.
"You were running toward the bus," Steve explained as he slowly walked into my room. "With the rain and the puddles, you slipped. I walked out of the mall right as you fell. I ran over to you, but you were barely conscious."
"Oh," I said under my breath. Suddenly, a thick tension fell between the two of us. If it wasn't for that tension, I would've laughed when Uncle Wayne hit Eddie's arm.
"We'll give you two some privacy," he said as he practically dragged Eddie out of my room. As soon as it was just us two, Steve sat on the edge of my bed.
"We need to talk about this," he said softly. "I can't stand the idea of you thinking you're not good enough for me."
"I just. . ."
"Please," he gently cut me off. "I need to say some things and I need you to hear them, okay? You are enough for me, Y/N. You are the perfect girl for me. I know you struggle with my and Nancy's friendship. If I could make it better for you, I would. The only way I can start to make it better is to tell you that I am completely, one hundred percent over Nancy Wheeler. I am also completely, one hundred percent into you. I don't know why you think you're not enough for me, but you are. You are enough, baby. No one is better for me. You make me extremely happy. You make it so I don't have to be fake. If I'm not happy, you know it. If I'm struggling, you know what to do to help me. I promise, Y/N, there is nothing between me and Nancy. Not anymore. Not ever again. I haven't had feelings for her for a long time. You make me happy. There is no one in this world I would rather be with than you."
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. He instantly wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. Every insecurity, every worry, disappeared as we kissed. Steve broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.
"I don't just want you," he whispered. "I love you."
"I love you too," I said, my voice breaking. My smile fell as I continued, "I'm really sorry, Steve. I never should've. . . I shouldn't. . . I was wrong. I should've believed you when you kept telling me you were over her."
"It's okay," he soothed. "But next time, promise me that you'll talk to me if you ever feel something like that again. Please, baby. Promise me."
"I promise."
Steve smiled as I pulled him toward me and laid down. That night, I fell asleep with Steve's arms wrapped tightly around me.
#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#stranger things#requested imagine#joe keery#joe keery request#steve harrington request
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Looped Sun 11
Loop #365
Joel: Grian what the hell is wrong with you today!??
Grian: I'm sorry Joel, I just can't right now.
Joel: No way, I'm not letting you leave just like that.
Grian: ... Fine.
Joel: A timeloop?
Grian: Yeah...
Joel: How many times-
Grian: I keep score, this is loop 365... Around 900 years now.
Joel: Guess that makes you an old man then!
Grian: What, I'm not old?
Joel: Did talking about it make it better.
Grian: But you are not going to remember-
Joel: You idiot, this isn't about me.
Grian : ... I guess.
Joel: I ask again, did it?
Grian: ...Yeah.
Loop #367
Grian had to admit that watching himself play games on a screen was weird...he just looked so cube-y. Wasn't even the first time he had gotten to watch his youtuber self but it was just as uncanny as the first time he did.
He even got to see some of the "au's" people made, just to prepare for eventual variant loops that might happen sooner or later of course.
Loop #369
Mumbo: G, mate, do you happen to have ab infinity gauntlet to give away...to me?
Grian: Why do you want an infinity gauntlet?
Mumbo: Well... I ...need the power stone.
Grian: ... Why?
Mumbo: I'm working on a project and redstone isn't going to be enough to power it.
Grian: And you want to use the power stone?
Mumbo: Yeah...?
Grian: ... Sure! It better be cool though.
Loop #372
False: You know G, I never tought about it but why are your eyes purple?
Grian: Oh? That? That is... because of a reason.
False: Huh uh?
Grian: I uh...
False: You?
Grian: I have Alexandria Genesis.
False: Huh?
Grian: ...
Pearl: I can't believe you said that!
Grian: It's not my fault you spent the last loop making Tumblr references.
Pearl: Ok, ok, ok but admit it, It's funny.
Grian: Nope.
X: Grian? False told me you are ill?
Grian: She did?
X: What is an... Alexander genesi?
Grian: It's Alexandria's Genesis.
X: That, how did you get ill? Is there a glitch in the code-
Pearl: It's his fault don't worry, he ate a moonmelon.
X: A what!?!
Pearl: A moonmelon, like a watermelon but blue.
X: How did you- where did you get that.
Grian: I... it was a gift?
X: From who? Was it a prank.
Pearl: It was from our... ... cousin!
Grian: Yep!
X: Cousin?
Grian: Oh you wouldn't...know them. They go to a different server.
Pearl: Yeah...just our dear cousin...Ebony Darkness Dementia Ravenway.
Grian: And then everybody clapped.
Scott: Huh uh. Sure thing.
Pearl: I would have clapped but it would have revealed the bit.
Grian: THANK you. At least someone here has my back.
Loop #375
Scar: Ok, ok, new plan.
Grian: I'm listening.
Scar: What if you betrayed me?
Grian: I can't betray you if you ... know about it? And who would I even betray you for? And why?
Scar: Oh no! Not a real betrayal...a fake one!
Grian: You want me to be a spy then?
Scar: ... Yes.
Grian: Crastle or Dogwarts?
Scar: Oh! I want to see you trick King Ren.
Grian: Hmmm, alright. I'll have to make it convincing. I'll need you to kill me.
Scar: Uh?
Grian: Think about it, you're red, it wouldn't be that surprising right?
Scar: Are you ...sure?
Grian: Yeah, I'll be fine. I do need a realistic reason. Just push me off a cliff.
Grian was doomed to fall by Goodtimeswithscar.
Martyn: Grian? Why are you here?
Grian: I assume you saw the news.
Martyn: Your death you mean?
Grian: What do you think?
Martyn: Just making sure, what about it?
Grian: Scar betrayed me because of red life his bloodlust. I want revenge.
Martyn: Revenge? Oh we'll get you that revenge.
Scar: What if you started spreading false info?
Grian: I'll need to share true info first or they'll catch on Scar.
Scar: Then I'll just make fake traps fir you to reveal! Everyone knows I'm not good at redstone anyway.
Grian: Huh. That could work.
Scar: I'm a genius I know. No need to praise me...
Grian: ...
Scar: ...
Grian: Are you sure you don't want praise?
Scar: ... No.
Grian: My lord, it seems the enemy has rigged the enchanter once more.
Ren: Has he? Martyn?
Martyn: I saw the trap with mine eyes.
Ren: How has he penetrated our private areas in such a way?
Grian almost let out a groan, he should have expected this but still.
Grian: I believe it might have been during our earlier trip.
Ren: Impossible, Skizz was at guard, he would have seen Scar I'm sure.
Grian knew Scar had used one of his loop abilities but maybe...
Grian: Perhaps Scar did not sneak in but was...let in.
Ren: Explain yourself.
Grian: I escaped from Scar's manipulation and joined your side my sire...perhaps one of ours has fell for them instead.
Martyn: Skizz... he definitely could have
Ren: You believe Skizz to be a traitor? Then his loyalty shall be tested.
Grian: Scar?
Scar: Yes?
Grian: Tomorrow Ren is going to give Skizz fake info. I'm going to tell you it so you can follow it.
Scar: Ohhh! You are making it seem like he's a traitor?
Grian: That's the plan.
Ren: Skizz, I didn't want to believe it.
Skizz: I'm not-
Martyn: Silence, you have betrayed the crown. You will pay!
Skizz: I didn't I promise! I don't know how Scar knew, I only-
Impulse: Stay away from him!
Ren: Impulse, you too?
Impulse: I'm not letting you do this!
Ren: Then you too shall perish.
Impulse starter to run dragging a shocked Skizz when.
Impulsesv was shot by Grian
Skizzleman was shot by Grian
Ren: Good job.
Grian: Thank you. Impulse still has a life however, we will see him again.
Grian: Seen Impulse recently?
Scott: Yeah, don't know what the two of you are doing this loop but whatever it is caused Impulse to steal my bit.
Grian: ...?
Scott: Yeah, you know, the grieving husband thing. Impulse is the one doing it now.
Grian: What are you going to do then?
Scott: I don't kno, I still have to figure it out.
Martyn: My lord, they have entered the castle-
Inthelittlewood was slain by Goodtimeswithscar
Ren: Me hand! No! ... Grian, protect your-
Grian: ...
Ren: Grian?
Grian: Long live the king.
Renthedog was slain by Grian
Loop #376
Scott had an... ok loop thus far. It started in Empires and then...nothing happened. And it continued not happening? And it was ok really, peaceful in a way, but it was also unusual and even a bit grating. Lizzie found the phropecy book ...and it didn't go anywhere. Then Xonorth arrived...and then disappeared randomly and didn't come up again. Scott was a bit on edge at this point.
Loop #378
Scott had started to get suspicious after the second loop of strangely nothing happening, especially after Jimmy started becoming distant. At the third loop of it happening again and Jimmy being even more isolated is when Scott finally made up his mind and cornered Jimmy.
Scott: Jimmy.
Jimmy: Uh- Hi Scott-
Scott: Don't "hi Scott" me, where the hell have you been for the last few weeks?
Jimmy: I... had important things to do-
Scott: Like...What?
Jimmy: Uh...
Scott: Jimmy, are you looping in time?
Jimmy: Wh-wha? Where...where did you get that idea? Weird...crazy-
Scott: I am too.
Jimmy: You are?!? Oh I'm not alone! Wait were you here the last time?
Scott: Yep, the one before that too.
Jimmy: How did I not notice?
Scott: I'm used to lying about it, It's hardly your fault.
Jimmy: But... how are you..used to it? This is like the 4th time back...
Scott: I have a lot to tell you.
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#trafficblr#traffic smp#hermitblr#grian#mumbo jumbo#jimmy solidarity#goodtimeswithscar#scott smajor#pearlescentmoon#Looped sun
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when reality sets back in
summary: You used to dream of marrying James when you were younger. Today, he's come to offer his congratulations.
pairing: james norrington x f!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst and mutual pining; arranged marriage (but not between reader and james) please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
prompt: 42. a kiss to celebrate an engagement
a/n: before tumblr ate all of ren's asks i remember her sending in this prompt and requesting that it hurt. i don't remember which character it was supposed to be for but i think i accomplished that.
masterlist | read on ao3
As soon as you stepped outside and the noise of the banquet hall faded into the background, you felt like you could breathe again.
It was a lovely evening, pleasantly warm for London at this time of year. A soothing breeze caught in the fabric of your skirts and made them billow. You stepped away from the terrace doors, moving into the shadows closer to the balustrade, out of sight of anyone just wandering past.
Leaning against the cool stone, you let out a long sigh.
Ignoring the city’s usual stench, the city was quite beautiful in the light of the setting sun. The river sparkled in the low light, and lanterns were being lit in the streets below, making them flicker with a warm orangey glow.
"I don’t recall the last time I’ve seen you quite this satisfied."
You’d have flinched had it been any other voice behind you. With this one, though, you smiled. "James."
He looked taken aback for a second when you turned to face him, meeting your eyes for just a moment before lowering his head. "Milady."
Your heart fluttered a little when you laughed, an old familiar reaction. "Really? After all this time, Commodore?"
It was almost hidden in the shadows around his face, but you knew him well enough to tell he was hiding a smile of his own. "It’s only proper we start at some point, don’t you think?"
You hummed noncommittally, taking your time looking at him. It had been so long since you saw him last, and yet you felt like it had been mere moments. "I didn’t know you were back in the country."
"Well, I couldn’t have missed your engagement, now, could I?"
Of course. That was the entire reason for the elaborate feast tonight, after all; you’d finally agreed to the match your parents had been gently pushing you to make for ages.
It wasn’t that your future husband wasn’t a good man. He was gentler than most, tall and handsome, and willing to let you keep a good portion of your independence even in marriage as long as you honoured his name and reputation in public. In time, you were sure you’d grow to love him, even.
You’d live out the rest of your days comfortable and reasonably happy.
Still, your hand wanted to reach towards the man you’d always secretly hoped would ask for it first. Wanted to trace the frown line between his brows, the stubble on his chin he missed while shaving, the sharp line of his jaw. He met your gaze with something unspoken in his eyes, like he could see exactly what it was you were craving.
But James Norrington had never once crossed a line with you like that, and you weren’t about to embarrass yourself with an action as improper as that. You clutched your hands in front of you and turned towards the view once more.
"I suppose not," you said quietly, your smile frozen in place now.
He cleared his throat as he stepped up besides you. "Besides, I’m being summoned to Court."
"Nothing bad, I hope?"
"Don’t worry about me." There was a weary quality to his voice you were unfamiliar with. Perhaps, you thought, it had been too long after all.
"You know me," you said with forced lightness, because for the first time, you thought he might not. "I always do."
James lowered his head again, and you weren’t sure what thoughts clouded his mind too much to register the open concern on your face. For a while, you kept quiet, debating with yourself as to how to take up the conversation again.
In the end, you resigned. "How are things overseas?"
"Interesting."
"I bet," you said, words continuing to fall out of your mouth. "Everything’s always the same here. You must have the most fantastical stories."
"Perhaps." If possible, he seemed even more distant than before.
Look at me, you begged silently, even though you’d long since forsaken any right to his attention.
"Did you bring your fiancée?" you made a desperate last attempt. "You must introduce us."
You’d never met Elizabeth Swann yourself, but all of London’s society was agreed that she was both beautiful and intelligent. Someone with the right qualities, the right social standing for someone like James; someone he’d want to look at constantly.
"Ah," he said, not quite a scoff; a last ebb of emotion. "No fiancée, I’m afraid."
"What happened?"
At last, he turned towards you, looking at you as though he was letting himself see you for the first time. "It emerged that our hearts weren’t quite aligned."
Something panged painfully in your chest at those words, the ring on your finger very sharp and heavy all of a sudden. "I’m terribly sorry."
"Don’t be. It was a nice dream. Besides, today is a day of celebration, isn’t it?" he gave you a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
You’d always loved James Norrington’s eyes. When you were younger, you wanted to drown in them every second of every day for the rest of your life. That had been a nice dream, too. But in real life, women like you had to make a strategic match, and your parents would never have let you leave England.
The invisible thing between you seemed to whir as he looked at you, but neither of you dared to speak it into existence, even now. It was too precious to be bound into words.
A chill went through you.
"You’re cold," James remarked, blinking. "I should leave you to return to your betrothed."
The air seemed to grow even colder. "Already?"
"I was only going to call upon you for a short while." He hesitated, then reached out for your hand. "My sincerest congratulations, Mrs Hamilton."
He pressed his lips to your knuckles reverently, holding your gaze while still keeping that damn respectful distance between your bodies. You were frozen to the spot, lost to the depth of his eyes and the things left unsaid.
"Thank you," you whispered when he finally lowered your hand once again, his thumb ghosting across your fingers before he let go and the ice returned to your bones. The chatter returned to the background.
Life went on.
You pressed your lips together as he turned to take his leave, but your heart was still pounding wildly, making you follow him, "James!"
He stopped, and you realised you’d grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, holding onto the thick brocade like you could spin it around your fingers and keep him tethered to you. Your voice was shaking. "Will I see you again?"
For a moment, you dared to hope; to dream again, for a beautiful couple of seconds.
He swallowed, his hands clenching into fists once before letting go.
"Of course, darling."
James Norrington had never lied to you before, and maybe it was because of that you knew he wasn’t telling you the truth this time; only what you desperately wanted to hear.
You let him leave, and that dream of yours cracked more and more with each step he took away from you, leaving reality covered in broken pieces.
He did not turn back.
thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💛
#james norrington x reader#james norrington fic#james norrington x you#james norrington fanfiction#james norrington oneshot#pirates of the caribbean fanfic#potc fanfic#when reality sets back in
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・❥・ Moth To A Flame
Pairings: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader
synopsis: you have an amazing, patient, caring boyfriend, but you still can't help being drawn to Neteyam like a moth to a flame
warnings: smut (p in v, fingering, creampie, soft!dom neteyam, marking), mentions of blood, cheating, strong language, minors do not interact 🔞
wc: 1.3k words
a/n: a little gift for @mightyneteyam x hope you enjoy, bestie!! Inspired by Moth To A Flame by the Weeknd. This made me feel all sorts of things, i wish i could share with the class but i'd probably get banned from tumblr
ps: i also think 'you right' by doja cat works so well with this oml
'Cause he seems like he's good for you
And he makes you feel like you should
But does he know you call me when he sleeps?
But does he know the pictures that you keep?
You don't know how this happened. You can't even remember how it started. The only thing you know is that, while hugging your incredibly patient, caring, beautiful boyfriend, you somehow once again found yourself eyeing Neteyam from across the room, once again getting lost in his predatory gaze and unruly smirk, that was reserved for you, once again giving him the small head signal that told him to meet you later, in your secret spot, that you frequented way too often, that you desperately wanted to be in right now, instead of here, at this celebration, where the music was too loud, and the people were too chatty, and your promised-mate was too sweet.
It ate at you - the guilt, each day and night. Enough to not do it as often as you probably wanted to, but not enough to stop. You knew it was wrong. You were promised to someone else. And he was the best person you've ever met, and he treated you so well, and he loved you and cherished you, and you loved him. You wanted him, but you needed Neteyam. Whereas your mate gave you stability and comfort, your quixotic affair with Neteyam gave you life, gave you thrill, gave you excitement, and you couldn't imagine ever being without it.
"I feel like you want to get caught, yawne." he says with a smirk as he rips off the top covering your breasts, as he immediately dives in and captures one of your hardened nipples in his mouth and sucks, until it hurts, until it bruises, until you moan. You shake your head weakly, mewling softly as two of his long digits slip past your folds, getting coated in your juices, as his thumb teases your clit, and all of a sudden he's a painter and an artist, and you're his muse and his canvas all in one, and you knew you would become a masterpiece by the time he was done, by the time you were done. This man knew you, every dark, twisted facet of your being, and he used it to his advantage, and you could never complain, because he used his advantage to yours, because at the end of the day, you were his muse and he was your creator, and you'd follow him into the pits of hell as long as he never stopped painting you.
His lips travelled from your breasts up your body, leaving a trail of spit in their warm, illusive wake, until they reached your neck, where he sank his teeth, where he marked you, and you couldn't find it in you to resist and protest, not when the rush of adrenaline travelled from the puncture wound all throughout your body, until it reached your core, until it sharpened and amplified the pleasure that was building in as his fingers slipped in and out of you with ease and grace, and you came, moaning loudly in his mouth as his tongue coated your own with a heady mix of blood and spit.
"Yes, you do, yawne. My scent is on you. In you. You let me mark you in bites and bruises, you let me come in you. You want him to find out, don't you? Want him to leave on his own so you don't have to do the hard work, huh?"
You shook your head again, fastening your legs around him as he raised you by your ass, your back against a tree, his length prodding at your sopping entrance almost playfully, teasing you with the promise of another mind-blowing orgasm. He reached down in order to align himself properly, and when he pushed in, you squealed, his tip enough to make you lose any insipid fragment of self-restraint, or of critical thought, or of thoughts of what or who you left behind at the party. Your hands find his shoulders in an attempt to gain some leverage, some control over the way you knew he would claim you, he would use you, but when that proved futile, your hands moved to his neck, bringing him closer to you, until you met in a sloppy, messy kiss, abound in flickering tongues and blood from sinking teeth finding pink lips, and the nature chirped in whistling tones and high-flown melodies, singing for you, or to hide you - either way, a welcome distraction.
When he bottoms out, you cry, and he kisses your tears away, and for a second, it doesn't feel wrong anymore, but feels like twin flame souls coming back together, where they planned on being for eternity, until the end of time. His pace is rough and calculated, each stroke brushing the spongy part of your walls that made you see glimmering stars, and you knew what you came here for was once more within your reach, so close you could taste it, just like you could taste him, his blood and your own amalgamated together on your lips.
“Just say you want me back. Just finally admit it and I’ll let you come on my cock next, how’s that sound?”
It was tempting, the confession that was barely contained within your soul, that you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs most days, that you bit back with a groan now, because you were happy with a better man... you should be happy with another man. But this man, this glorious, nefarious, beautiful man took all the available space in your mind, even now, after all this time, and you wanted him, and wanted to keep him. In moments like this, it didn't feel absurd or unattainable anymore - it felt real.
“Do you think he knows? Even subconsciously, do you think he knows deep down what a little slut you are? How much you ache for me, how much you like to get fucked until your knees shake and your mind quiets? How you give into me, how your back arches and your mouth falls open as I fill you with my cum? Do you think he understands to some level that no matter what you say, no matter what he thinks, you’ll always belong to me, and only me?”
The words were harsh and cruel to some, exciting and titilating to you, and so, so true. Your resolve was weakening with every thrust, with every vibration of his voice that you felt in every cell of your body, until it was depleted, in the same way you needed to be.
“Say it, sweet girl. Say it and I’ll let you come on my cock.”
“I’m yours. All yours.”
“That’s right. That’s a good girl. Come for me, baby. Let me hear your pretty moans, so I can fill you up.”
You do as you're told, and the masterpiece is final when the explosion of colours, intense and luminous, splatters on the canvas, when the cries and shakes turn into music put to paper, when your arching back is just the final ensemble of a sculpture carved in marble. You both pant as your legs fall limp around him, but he doesn't let go, keeping you close, his head in your chest, breathing you in, helping you off your high.
"I want you back. We're inevitable, you and me. Please, just take me back."
Your mind, now clear and finally able to rationalise, is torn between what you knew was good for you and who you saw at night, every time you closed your eyes. You wondered if you would ever be able to choose.
Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?
Where it truly lies, right here with me, babe
Where it truly lies, my bed, babe
Where it truly lies, in my arms, babe
Where it truly lies
taglist: @fanboyluvr
#◘ andra's oneshots/drabbles#༊*·˚ andra's works#neteyam#neteyam x reader#neteyam fanfic#neteyam reader#neteyam sully#avatar#avatar twow#avatar fanfic#neteyam x avatar!reader#neteyam sully fanfiction#neteyam angst#awow#awow neteyam#neteyam smut#neteyam x y/n#avatar way of water#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x you#neteyam drabble#avatar drabble#avatar x reader#neteyam x omaticaya!reader
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Roses and Flame | 10
Pairing: Female!Driver!Horner!Reader x Toto Wolff
TW: Language, smut, oral(receiving), fingering, Toto being hot, everything is consensual
Rating: Mature, 18+
AN: OMGGG IM BACKK! So much crazy stuff has happened in my life, I've just been so busy, but when I happened to check my Tumblr I saw how many of you wanted this story to continue. It made me so happy so of course I had to come back. comment to be added to the taglist!
Word count: 3.9k
Mini Summary: Collins Horner is the eldest of Christian and Geri’s children. She has been raised to be the fastest female racer Motorsport has ever seen and to despise Mercedes while doing it. But what happens when her world turns upside down?
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of it, and claiming it as your own.
| chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 |
The next morning you woke up to the smell of bacon and the absence of Toto’s warmth. The feeling of your slightly messy hair made your cheeks warm up from embarrassment, wondering if you could fix it before he found you out of bed, you got up and snuck into the bathroom before you started desperately looking for a hair brush.
Trying to be quiet while throwing open drawers and cabinets was not easy but you were doing your best. There was no hairbrush to be found, you sigh and try to start fixing your hair with your fingers. You were interrupted by quiet laughter, turning around you saw Toto standing there with breakfast.
“I’m going to go ahead and assume your hangover is gone?” He laughed a little.
“I was just trying to fix my hair, but yes the headache is finally gone,” you looked at the plate and pointed, “is that for me?
He nodded, “Come lay back down so you can eat it in bed as I intended.”
Something was kinda hot about him telling you what to do, of course, you weren’t going to give up your stubborn tendencies, you were Christian’s daughter of course.
“Hmmm.. Make me.” You grinned mischievously.
He stared at you for a second, “Fine, I’ll just eat your portion too.”
“Wait! No, I was kidding,” you quickly ran past him and hopped back in bed.
He laughed and followed you, giving you your plate before going to get his own and taking his place next to you. When he came back in you took a minute longer to take in his appearance, he was wearing slacks and a wife beater, and he looked like a god. The things you wanted this man to do to you, your face got red once again, but this time he was there to notice.
“What are you blushing over there about?”
“Oh, nothing... I’m just thinking about something.” ‘Of course, he had to notice’ you thought.
“Mhmm.” He smiled and went back to eating.
You both spoke as you ate, when you were both done he took the plates and came back. You eagerly motioned for him to get back in bed, which he did. Almost immediately you crawled onto him, straddling his lap, putting your hands on his chest. You felt the toned muscles as you moved your hands down, he watched you intently. You opened your mouth to say something to him, but he grabbed your messy hair and pulled you in for a kiss. A squeak from shock replaced the words that you were going to say and you felt him smile in the kiss as it got more passionate. Both of you breathing heavily, his hands moving to your thighs, as they moved higher you pulled away.
“We need to wait a little, remember?”
He nodded, “I’m sorry, I can’t help it when you look at me like that.”
Now that you weren’t kissing you could feel his bulge pressing through his clothes on your inner thigh, it was like your skin was on fire.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes wide. “I should move.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, moving his hands to your hips and guiding you to grind on him, you let out a moan as he let out a low grumble.
You ignored all of the voices in your head begging for more, getting off of him, mumbling, “I should probably go home.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” He began to apologize, but you cut him off.
“Please don’t be sorry, it was really hot, that’s why I should go before things get a little out of hand, it just makes me nervous because of my dad and everything.” You spoke as he nodded in understanding.
“I get it, I have a business meeting I need to leave soon for anyway,” he smiled, “you might’ve made me late if you didn't get up.”
You laughed before realising the only clothes you had were the ones you got here in, and you definitely couldn’t wear Toto’s clothes. Immediately Pierre popped into your head, “I think I’m going to stop by Pierre’s to get some clothes.”
“You better hurry then, I heard they have a team meeting soon as well.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of urgency, giving him a quick kiss, “I’ll see you later!”
Hopping out of bed, you grabbed your clothes that were still on the floor in his closet and booked it out the door, hurrying to Pierre’s so no one would see you. When you got there you started banging on the door before a half-naked Pierre opened it.
“Collins?-”
Immediately covering your eyes, you spoke, “Do not ask me any questions, do you have any clothes a girl might’ve left here?”
“Umm, yeah, you want to come in?”
You nodded, pushing past him, “could you put some clothes on as well?”
“You realize you're wearing a t-shirt, no bra and from what I can assume no pants either?”
“I’m wearing men's boxers”, you pulled up your shirt to show them.
He looked, still confused as well as in disbelief, “Are those Ralph Lauren boxers? Who did you sleep with last night that would wear Ralph Lauren boxers?”
“I said no questions, and no one you would know, almost every man that lives here would wear RL boxers.”
“More like every old man maybe.”
“He’s not that old,” you mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing, clothes please.” You put a fake smile on your face.
“There’s a box of women's miscellaneous items in my closet, don’t take any bras or underwear, they are mementoes.”
“Ew, but okay.”
You went into his room and started digging through said box, finding a cute sundress, and quickly slipping that on, “Thanks!” You gave him a high five and left.
When you got back to Lewis’, your father was sitting on the couch, “Oh fuck.”
He looked over, looking disappointed, “Collie, we need to have a discussion.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Upstairs, come sit.”
You nodded and moved over to sit in a chair, “what’s up Dad?”
“When this season started I didn’t figure this was something I would need to tell you, I thought it was pretty clear. You can be friends with whoever you want, I don’t mind, but you absolutely cannot fuck around with my drivers.”
“Excuse me? I didn’t ‘fuck around’ with anyone, if this is about Checo he stayed here because he was upset with his wife who to my understanding is cheating on him. He practically forced his way into sleeping in my room with me, he had hundreds of excuses as to why he couldn’t sleep on the couch or stay with Max. If you need to have a conversation with anyone it’s him.” You huffed.
“I already did, but I just figured I would relay the message, where have you been anyway?”
“A cafe, do you mind going now, Audrey and I were going to go to the beach when I got back.”
He nodded, “I’ll see you at the practice race this weekend.”
He left after that and you went upstairs, “no warning?”
“He just got here.” Audrey shrugged
“Okay, I’m gonna shower and then beach,” you gave them a thumbs up and went back downstairs.
Toto was busy for the rest of the week, so he didn’t have time for many more dates and you were having a blast shopping and at the beach. Of course, it was sunny out, at least up until race weekend and it was on and off raining most of the time. Sunday quickly rolled around. You started in 4th, which has been your best starting position yet, you had a good chance at this race. There were several red flags at the beginning of the race due to the rain but finally, after 45 minutes it had cleared up. You ran a great race, getting up to second place, right in between Charles and Carlos. Just as the Ferrari team messed up their strategy you took first, knowing for sure Charles was yelling at his team over the speaker.
“You’re doing a great job, Collins.” You heard Micheal through your radio followed by your strategist Paul.
“Carlos is hot on your tail, you might want to quicken up the pace, but be safe.”
You nodded to yourself, “How many seconds behind?”
“0.432.”
You kicked it into high gear, focusing on trying to create a larger gap between you and Sainz. 32 laps in, Mick Schumacher hit the barrier, causing a red flag for repairs to the wall. Micheal understandably took a step away from the team to go check on his son, luckily all was well. It was a crazy crash, probably could’ve been fatal so it was a miracle he was alright. After clean-up was done, the race continued, Carlos hot on your tail, followed by Checo. The laps carried on, but the race was drawing to a close. Lap 50, Carlos tried to pass you many times, but you got away. 20 Laps later you saw the checkered flag, crossing the finish line to gain your first win. The rush of extreme happiness filled your body, you could scream. You saw your team cheering for you as you passed the pits.
“Oh my god!” You yelled over the radio. Pulling up to the large 1st sign and parking, quickly jumping out and raising your hands, you jumped off the car and ran to hug Micheal and the rest of your team, taking off your helmet. You headed over to get weighed, and you then waited for your turn to be interviewed. Finally, it was your turn, you stepped up, taking the microphone from Carlos, a smile on your face.
“What a great race Collins! What is going through your mind right now?”
“So many things, I just can’t believe I’m standing here right now.” The smile ceased to fade away, looking over you made eye contact with Toto who gave you a discreet thumbs up.
“How does it feel to not only bring home the first win for Porsche but be the first woman to win a Grand Prix, especially at such a historical track like Monaco?”
“It’s the best feeling I could ever imagine, I just want to thank my team for making such an amazing car and allowing me to be here. I want to be the woman that all the girls in go-karting can look up to with pride knowing they belong in this sport, and it makes me so happy that just standing here right now, knowing I’m making girls feel like they belong as I speak.”
“One more question, how do you think you’re going to celebrate this first victory?”
“I’m going to have so much fun with my friends tonight, and I really can’t wait to hug my mom,” you laughed, waving at her.
“Well congratulations, go have a fun celebration on the podium!’
“I will! Thank you!” You smiled and went into the cool-down room, immediately hugging Carlos.
“You did so good,” he smiled and hugged you back.
You laughed, “Hey, you almost got me there in the end.”
“It’s too bad I didn’t,” he laughed.
After a little bit of talking, you were directed to the podium, a smile still on your face as you took the spot of first. They started handing out the trophies, you got yours last, holding it up in the air to hear everyone cheering, and you held back tears. They played the British national anthem and you couldn’t help but tear up to the song, just so proud of yourself for this accomplishment. Carlos playfully swatted you with his hat when the song ended. Then it was time for the champagne, without hesitation you hit the bottle on the ground, immediately spraying Micheal as the two boys sprayed you. Of course, you got them back before drinking a little bit of what was left in the bottle, holding it up in the air, causing everyone to cheer once again.
A little bit after, you had just gotten out of the shower in your room in the Porsche paddock. That champagne got sticky fast, you’ve never been so desperate to dodge all of the journalists in your life. You wrapped yourself up in your towel and stepped out of the bathroom to see Toto Wolff sitting on the couch of your private room.
You let out a gasp, “how did you get in here?”
“The door,” he spoke, turning to look at you, smiling. “Congratulations Schatzi, that’s a big win you know.”
You giggled, all giddy, “Yes I do!”
You almost jumped into his arms before he could even get off the couch, he laughed before you kissed him, and when you pulled away he spoke, “Technically I’m supposed to be upset because Lewis or George didn’t win, but it was difficult for me to hide my smile in the pits as I watched you overtake Checo, hopefully, they didn’t catch that on camera.”
Grinning, you replied, “I’m glad my win could bring you some joy.”
“Of course,” he looked at you, “you’re so beautiful.”
You smiled, blushing and glancing over the door which you realized he had locked when he came in. You knew people were waiting for you, your mother and siblings, the team, and your makeup artist, but maybe they could wait for just a moment. You moved to pull him into another kiss, he wrapped his arms around you, and you quickly snaked your hand behind his head to run your fingers through his hair. This kiss was different than the ones in the past, causing Toto to pull away and look up at you with dark eyes full of want and need.
“What do you want, Schatzi?” he whispered.
You let go of your towel, letting it slowly fall, “I still want to wait and have sex with you, but I think a little playing around wouldn’t hurt?”
“There are people out there waiting for you,” he breathed, watching as the towel fell from your body, revealing all that he had imagined.
You crossed your arms playfully, covering your breasts that he didn’t seem to be able to look away from, “well isn’t this what the guys do when they win, I want the whole experience.”
“Mmm, I see, so you want me to eat you out then?” He spoke, looking back up at you. Your face got red, you were super confident just a second ago, but the act was over.
“Why that specifically?” You managed to get out
He smiled, “Well the boys normally get to get a quickie in, of course, you understandably aren’t ready to do that with me yet, so oral is the second best thing.” As he spoke he moved you to lay down on the couch comfortably, grabbing a throw pillow to put behind your head, this had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He ran his hands over your exposed body like he was memorizing it, you could cry out already and he hadn’t even gotten to the main event. He grabbed your legs, about to push them up when you stopped him.
“Wait, one more kiss please,” you asked, and quickly he was over the top of you, pressing a kiss to your lips, you wrapped your bare legs around his clothed hips, feeling his hard-on pressed up against you through his slacks causing you to gasp.
“You’re going to have to be a little quieter so they don’t know I’m in here,” he whispered and you nodded as he went back down to his previous position, he moved back to lift your legs to rest on his shoulders and you let out another small gasp when you felt the cold air hit your pussy. “Oh my god you’re absolutely beautiful,” he spoke quietly, almost to himself as he looked at you, “so wet for me already and I’ve barely even touched you.”
You let out a whine as he lightly ran his finger over your clit, before moving to tease your hole, covering his finger in your juices. Your body has never been so tense with want, your arousal growing. A moan escaped your mouth as he slowly slipped his finger inside you, looking up to see your reaction. He grinned and lowered his head, slowly licking your clit as he pulled his finger out, you covered your mouth with one of your hands as you moaned. He lifted his head back up to look at you once again.
“Don’t stop, please,” you whined, sitting up a little to make eye contact with him. After about a second of eye contact, a grin appeared on his face as he pushed his finger back inside you, your head fell back, going to cover your mouth again. He lowered his head back, tongue flicking your clit, causing you to arch into his mouth. A moan muffled by your hand managed to slip out of your mouth as he continued to pump his finger in and out of you as he ate you out. This had to be the best head you’ve ever received, you didn’t think it could get any better until he slipped in another finger.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, your free hand grabbing his hair. You could feel your orgasm brewing already, ‘that’s embarrassingly fast’ you thought to yourself, but your thoughts were cut off when he pulled his fingers out, quick to replace them with his tongue.
“Oh Toto,” you moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself. At this point you didn’t care if anyone heard, you were so overcome by the feeling of pleasure. He didn’t seem to care either because he didn’t stop, your orgasm building fast. “I’m so close,” you whined as he pressed his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he fucked you with his tongue. Your thighs tightened around his head as you reached your climax, moaning and breathing heavily as you came. Your body almost instantly relaxed and he sat up, sweat on his forehead, and a smile on his face.
“So much for being quiet Schatzi,” he spoke, clearly proud of himself.
You swatted at him, “Oh hush!”
He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you, you could taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled away and grabbed your towel, wiping his mouth off, “you were delicious.” He moved to clean you up, and you felt warm on the inside, loving how gentle he was with you after.
“That was so good,” you sat up when he was done wiping up the mess he made, and you moved to undo his belt.
“Mmm, what are you doing baby?” He grabbed your wrist and you looked up at him.
“I need to see it and then I need it in my mouth,” you spoke like it was obvious.
He smiled, “I see, well, you know we don’t have enough time for that, I’m sure you have plenty of people waiting on you.”
You huffed, standing up and going to grab a clean towel, “You’re right, my makeup artist is right outside I’m sure. How are you going to leave?”
“I’m sure everyone will be out of here the second you are, I don’t mind waiting, I brought my book actually.” He picked it up off a side table and you smiled.
“Okay, be careful when you leave.” You kissed him before walking out of the room.
Your eyes immediately meet Florence, your publicist, then immediately shoot to Ellie-Mae, your makeup artist, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh no,” Florence put her face in her hands.
You looked at her then back to Ellie-Mae, “what?”
“We might’ve heard a little.”
“Who’s in there, is it just like a random or do I need to prepare myself for some big leaked story?” Florence looked at you, you could tell she was clearly concerned as you sat in the makeup chair. ‘At least they didn’t hear me moan his name,’ you thought.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it Flo, we can talk about it later if we need to.” You spoke and she nodded.
“Well congrats, on the race, not your private post-celebration,” Ellie laughed and you joined her.
After you got your hair and makeup done you got dressed in your cute little Porsche uniform and stepped outside to see your family, immediately going to hug your mother.
“I’m so proud of you Collie!” She hugged you tight, you almost immediately started crying, you were so happy.
“Well don’t cry now, you just got your makeup done,” your dad teased and you let go of your mother and went to hug him. You butted heads a lot, but you know it was because he really cared about you.
The rest of the evening, you did some interviews, and clearly Toto got out fine cause you saw him talking to Lewis in front of the Mercedes building, you couldn’t help but grin at least until you saw Tayla walk up to them, saying something and putting her hand on his arm. This is when being secretive stung, you wanted to walk up so bad, that bitch drove you crazy. Florence stood next to you and saw where you were looking, you figured she could help you out and it probably wouldn’t hurt to give her a hint of what was going on.
“Flo, can you go get someone to do something about that for me please?” You looked at her and she nodded, walking over to Tayla’s publicist and saying something, her publicist's eyes widened and went walking over to Tayla.
When she got back, you looked at her, “What did you say?”
“I might’ve dropped Pierre’s name but I didn’t do anything crazy.”
Tayla looked at her publicist when she walked up, clearly unhappy about being interrupted, but soon walked away from the two and back over to the interview area. When you got back to Lewis’ Audrey congratulated you.
“Girl, that's so awesome that you won in Monaco of all places.”
You hugged her tight, “I know!”
She hugged you back, “Now we have to go party and celebrate, I am living vicariously through you!”
“You’ll win soon enough, if I let you that is,” you laughed and she gave you a light push.
Lewis walked in shortly after with a hug and congratulations, but the conversation didn’t get too far before you asked Lewis, “What did Tayla want earlier?”
Audrey looked at you slightly confused and Lewis made a face, “Well I guess according to Toto Tayla might’ve seen him walking into the Porsche building and I guess she made an assumption.”
“Oh lovely, she’s just the perfect person to know that information.”
Audrey scoffed, “she can’t say shit, she’s sleeping with Carola.”
You and Lewis turned to look at her, eyes wide, you spoke first, “What?!”
“You heard me, she’s fucking around with a married woman, I mean we love diversity, but not when it’s an affair.”
Lewis nodded in agreement, “damn, that's crazy, how did you know that?”
“I’m her teammate and I might’ve snuck a glance at her phone, I’ll blackmail her if need be.”
“Well, thanks, Audrey..”
She nodded, “so what was Toto doing at the Porsche building?”
Your face got red, “I’ll tell you while we get ready.”
Taglist:
@laura-naruto-fan1998 @fxshernoizu @ricciardosheart @idkiwantchocolatee @ggrapejuiceblues @pierre-gasssllyy @itssherlockedontheinside @pleasantducktimetravel @indieclarke @tispys-blog @hoely-maria @flippitygibbitts @ashf1 @allinestarr
#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#toto wolff#f1 x reader#toto wolff gif#toto wolff x you#roses and flame#lewis hamilton#christian horner#max verstappen
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clingy
Steve Rogers x reader
A/N I'm sorry for not posting for a few days, I will catch up but my son has been ill and I've been focusing on him. This is a part of my 100 followers celebration. Also, all mistakes are my own, so if you see any feel free to comment them and other comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated.
THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR
Summary whenever you come home from a mission Steve feels the need to be touching you at all times
DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.
Warnings fluff
Steve wasn’t really a clingy person but when you come back from a mission, you saw a different side to america’s golden boy.
As soon as the quinjet landed, Steve was running over, waiting for you to walk out. He picked you up and walk ed into the compound with your legs wrapped around his waist and your bag over his shoulder.
He didn’t put you down until you reached the living room on your shared floor: he put your bag on the table and sat on the couch with you on his lap.
“I missed you so much baby,” Steve mumbled into the crook of your neck.
“I missed you too stevie,” you replied, running your hands through his soft locks of hair.
You stayed like that for a while until your stomach grumbled. This made Steve chuckle and pick you up again.
“What do you want to eat darlin’?” he asked.
“I’m thinking takeout from that Thai place we went to before I went on this mission.”
“That sounds like a good idea babe. I’ll call them and you can go and get some blankets to make the couch more comfy,” he said, kissing your forehead and putting you down.
You walked into your shared bedroom and grabbed every blanket in sight (there were many since you loved to hoard blankets) and arranged them on the couch. Then, you grabbed the pillows off your bed and arranged them so both you and Steve would be comfy.
A few minutes later, Steve walked into the living room and laid down on the couch with his head on your lap.
“They said it should be here in 15-20 minutes,” Steve told you with a smile on his face since you had started to play with his hair.
“That means we can start a film. What do you want to watch baby?”
“What was the film you said you wanted to watch with me before you went on the mission?”
“Are you talking about A Muppets Christmas Carol?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“We can watch that baby, I just gotta find it on Disney+ first.”
Not many people knew this but Steve loved musicals, he didn’t know why but theres something so magical about them that always captivated him. He doesn’t tell many people this fact about him though since he’s a bit embarrased about it (he was almost too embarrassed to tell you but a few kisses sorted that issue out.)
You pressed play on the remote and saw a smile creep onto Steve’s face. You loved to see him so happy.
15 minutes into the film you were alerted by F.R.I.D.A.Y that someone was at the gates with a delivery for you.
“I’ll go and get it darlin’” Steve told you, smiling.
It wasn’t long before Steve was back. You grabbed you food and sat on the couch. Steve walked over to you but he didn’t sit on the couch, he sat between your legs- you had already put a few pillows and blankets there on the floor, knowing Steve would sit there. He rested his head against your left leg while he ate his food and watched the tv.
Once the both of you had finished eating, Steve wrapped his arm around your left leg and gave your thigh a kiss. This didn’t look like anything special, but to Steve it was a perfect level of intimacy for him and his slight clingyness.
This being accompanied by you constantly running your hands through his hair made him feel happy and content that you where home but also that you were ok with his need to be touching you at that moment.
If you want to join my taglist to know when I post these fics or any others please click on the link.
Also, if you want to see what I reblog, my other account is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs
Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin
#100 followers#celebration#thanks#i love you all#mcu#marvel#fluff#x reader#any race#any gender#gender neutral reader#gender neutral#steve rogers#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader fluff#x fem!reader#female reader#gn#gn reader#captain america#captain america x reader#captain america fluff#captain america x reader fluff#reader insert#chris evans#chris evans fluff#chris evans x reader#chris evans x reader fluff#chris evans character
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can't remember if i've spread the grasshopper propaganda on tumblr yet but izzy and i talked about them again today and i must share them with the world (and also it is soooo frustrating to me that amidst the lifesteal yuri craze no one has mentioned the doomed yuri that's Right There)
so. squiddo and jumper. squishing them in my hands
the end of s5 means sooo much to me because like. they literally fight to the very end with basically just each other (ash isn't there for enough of it so he doesn't count to me. also the yuri demons ate him) and you want to tell me they're just normal about it?? squiddo obtained god powers and used them (despite being morally fairly neutral about the end of the server!!) to keep jumper alive as long as they possibly could, despite understanding that it probably wouldn't matter. jumper literally put her life in squiddo's hands. can anyone hear me
and from a wider view, they are such a match made in tragedy like. jumper has such strong morals, doesn't forgive particularly easily, doesn't shy away from condemning people and actions just because they're not what she wants/would have done -- and then there's squiddo. moral foggy at best, follows her own whims without any particular moral bent, but agonizingly loyal once she's pledged alliance to someone. jumper takes squiddo's loyalty to pb+j to mean that they're on the same page, that squiddo's doing this for the same reasons she is, and she's not exactly wrong but the full picture doesn't reveal itself until the end. jumper tried to save the server, did everything she did, because she felt it was her moral obligation to, because it would have been an act of monumental apathy to sit back and watch her world die. squiddo did it because they thought the server needed a hero, and they were equipped enough to fill that role. whenever squiddo's squishy morals showed through, it sucked all the air out of the room. there was never an ending where both of them were happy.
it's also such a clash of understanding and naivety. they lived through the same server and yet they see it so differently. jumper has really only ever been on the side of good, but squiddo's been the evil, the apathetic, the hero. squiddo sees the end of the world coming from a mile away and she knows her harbinger's name is wemmbu; she's seen destruction, seen his commitment to it. jumper understands none of it. her only true clash with "evil" was the abyss, and she was able to stop it! her efforts were so much of the reason why the foundation succeeded! so why should this be any different? that was an end of the world, same as this. what makes this so unstoppable? squiddo sees the headlights coming down the road, jumper walks in front of them believing they are not for her, and there is nothing either of them can do to stop death approaching.
yeah. ramble over i think. they were doomed from the start and fought to the end and i think about them every day
#i need someone else to get it. tragic yuri enjoyers where are you#i also can't tell if this is even coherent. might be ramblings of a madman#but the sentiment is there#long post#ish#lifesteal shipping#jumperwho#squiddo#winter.txt
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I’m watching Voltron: Legendary Defender for the first time and here is what I have had to say per each season (this is 1-2) (3-4) (5-6) (7) (8)
Pre-Watch Knowledge
->big transformers type robot
->pretty alien girl that looks like princess yue from A:tLA
->they are the epitome of color-coded characters
->space??
->there was crazy people in the fanbase that sent cupcakes laced with something to the creators
->queer baiting (this one in particular got me)
->klance.
->^honestly I only knew that because people were comparing it to zukka and I wanted to check it out
->my friend really likes it
Post S1 thoughts-
->that cliffhanger was crazy imagine they weren’t renewed for a s2
-> i went on tumblr after and youre telling me they made that show IN TWO YEARS?? EIGHT SEASONS. IN TWO MF YEARS?? that is insane. props to the writers bro they fr must of known what they were doing.
->all of these characters already scream “doomed by the narrative”
->my fav characters are pidge and lance
->I definitely did NOT expect yue Allura to be British
->bonding moment.
->^like yeah okay i get it now
-> the healing pods are a very interesting concept. Like, what if you get some ailment that it doesn’t recognize?? Do you just die??
-> genuinely felt so bad for Not Yue. Allura. Allura when they had to remove her father’s memory thing. Like yeah I know the castle was corrupted or wtv but bro imagine. Your entire race is dead. your mom, who you previously knew alive is now most likely dead. You already had to go through losing your father once, and now you have to lose him again. Any sliver of hope you had of staying connected with him is gone, because the entirety of his essence is now gone. She’s stronger than me, I would have never given him up so easily. I admire that about her.
->I also made the horrible mistake of going on ao3 after
yk for gits and shiggles… and when I go to a new fandom I always search by hits to see the classics first yk
…
WHY are you guys so 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂… I genuinely shed a tear what. I was flabbergasted to say the least.
On that note the top 23 were about redguy/blueguy getting smoochy-smoochy with each other so I guess that should be a hint as to what you guys like
->the description of the show says the robot (voltron) is operated by “five teenagers” but that shiro guy has to be AT LEAST 25. He is pushing 30 you can’t convince me otherwise.
->for now it’s kinda giving atla except the war is intergalactic and lasted 10,000 years instead of 100.
->all the other characters seem to have a pretty clear background, but we haven’t yet heard about Keith’s backstory, so I want to know (I know now, this was my initial thought)
->shiros backstory/ptsd is very interesting, lots of angst possibilities i see
-> I had an inkling that pidge was…genderly different. (At first I thought she was transmasc)
Post S2
-> WHERE is my man. Where did he go.
-> Pookie please come back. Now. It’s not a suggestion.
->KEITH BACKSTORY I PREDICTED THEY WERE GONNA SHOW US YAY I LOVE BEING RIGHT
-> he’s galra! Soooo much whump opportunity
-> the whole “Allura doesn’t hate you she’s just a little upset to find out ur part of the race that killed off her entire peoples and family and okay maybe she does hate you” scene with keith and hunk is really giving that scene in atla: the southern raiders where zuko thinks katara hates him and sokka reassures him (badly) while he was just trying to get laid w suki.
->^ that’s gay
-> the aliens they met are going to be very important, aren’t they?
->^ oohhh so this is where the “langst” stuff comes from? he’s just kinda insecure i think, but it can’t possibly just be this episode that has that tag so high, unless flanderization is just really popular with you guys, but already suspect that unfortunately
->^Allura high key ate with this
->the “Blade of Marmora” people are definitely gonna be important later
-> the mall episode was soooo fun! fav s2 episode for sure!
->^gay. It’s literally giving “two bros chillin in a hot tub. five feet apart cus they’re not gay”
-> I know of 2 ships now. klance and allurance. I only see the former though, the latter seems more like a running gag/unrequited crush thing (for now i suppose)
-> Coran is an icon. I love that whimsical man. he’s beekeeping age per say.
-> I need pidge to find her brother and father man I feel so bad for her PLEASE DOBT TELL ME THEYRE DEAD ILL LITERALLY DIE.
-> pidge is sooooo cool i love her so much she’s literally the pookiest of the pookies
-> Who tf is gonna be the black paladin now. Keith sure as hell isn’t ready for that. maybe Allura?? Cus yk she kinda already leads them a little bit
These are thoughts I had compiled over a while now. I am on S5E3 as of now (07/03/24) but I wanted to document my thoughts either way. I will post on the tag “laura’s first vld”
#laura’s first vld#vld#first voltron watch#first time watch#I try to skip spoilers as much as I can but there’s only so much you can do when ur constantly yapping about ur hyperfixation to your phone#the healing pods are a very interesting thing tho#I’ll never let go of that. what if idfk ur appendix burst or something? do alteans have appendixes?? this actually raises more questions#alien anatomy is really interesting#even now i still don’t understand what ‘quinntessence’ is#“oh it’s like a life fuel/the essence of life” yeah no still confused. is it carbon?? cus that’s what makes organic life?? crazy#there’s a lot of hypotheticals regarding this shows scientific element#Voltron#voltron legendary defender
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I have a theory for why Harris lost that I haven’t seen much, and it’s not glamorous or exciting.
Basically: EVERYONE knows who Trump is, nobody knew who Harris was. That’s it.
Harris had 107 days or three months and 15 days to get her word out there, and Trump literally never stopped campaigning since riding down that escalator 3431 days, or nine YEARS, four months, and 21 days before Election Day 2024.
There’s a lot of talk about which policies Harris should and shouldn’t have championed, but lest we forget, the anti-Harris messaging for a sufficient portion of her campaign was that she had no policies, because nobody could name them.
Even when she was given a public platform, any coherent argument she could give was drowned out by the opposition, even when given coverage was opposed to that opposition. Remember the debate? Remember how the news cycle was dominated afterwards, not by her 90 page economic plan, but by whether or not Haitians ate cats? That’s important.
With so little time to campaign and so much airtime dedicated to Trump, she had to rely on social media and word of mouth to get her message out there, but this is also a very flawed strategy.
I think, if you’re here on Tumblr, you’re probably very internet-oriented, so it’s easy to think that everyone is on the internet, but the internet is a much smaller, much more fractured place than we realize.
I wrote several paragraphs showing social media statistics, but it made this post much longer than it should’ve been. I’ll make a separate post later. The big takeaway is that social media platforms have vested interests to appear as big and far-reaching as possible, but actual engagement statistics are vanishingly small. On Facebook, the largest platform by a country mile, less than a quarter of a percent of people who view a given post will engage with it, and that includes looking at it for longer than ten seconds. On Twitter, 97% of the site’s content is created by less than 25% of its users. The number of people in the US who post once a day is smaller than the population of Michigan. The number of people in the US who post more than once a day could fit in Michigan Stadium.
Due to the short timeframe, Harris’s campaign had to rely disproportionately on the internet, and the internet has a hard cap on word travel. Even if every single American on social media had access to perfect knowledge of Harris and her policies, you’re still only reaching half of all voting Americans, at best.
This also explains, I think, the seeming disparity between all the “unprecedented” early voting/registration reporting versus final vote tallies: the people who vote early AND report on early voting are going to be more active on social media in general, and, again, there’s a hard limit on how many people that can be.
Also, she still got 74 million votes, which is the second largest number of votes for any Democrat presidential candidate ever, behind Biden in 2020. And Biden was, himself, a very public, well-known figure even during his own Vice-presidency, in ways Kamala wasn’t.
At the end of the day, I really don’t think Harris‘s policies or interviews or debates affected her campaign at all. I think it was simply not enough time.
And she still managed more popular votes than literally every other presidential candidate in history, save two. There are definitely discussions to be had about her policies and why she lost and where the Democratic Party is going from here, but I also think it’s important to keep those discussions within that context. Did she misstep, veering more right as the election drew near? Should she have given clearer answers when asked about Palestine or Trans rights? Absolutely! Would that have helped her get more votes than Biden, who was a publicly known figure running against *the* least popular president in modern history during a period of historic turmoil? Probably not.
This is why I push back against people saying Harris ran a bad campaign. By any measurable metric, (The big, obvious one notwithstanding) she ran one of the best campaigns ever run by a democrat. Factoring in her limitations, it was, at least on paper, nothing short of miraculous.
This is also why I push back against doomerist claims that the country is more racist or misogynist than it used to be. Trump’s voter tallies did not significantly change between 2020 and 2024. In no genuinely bigoted country could Harris get more votes than Obama. There’s roughly the same number of bigots in America that there have always been.
The country did not move further to the right. It simply moved *away* from the Democrats. And even then, not by a whole lot. Just enough. Because people tend to gravitate towards what is familiar, and Harris, in three months, could not overcome the familiarity that Trump built over nine years.
I really do think it’s as simple as that.
And more: I think anyone trying to tell you otherwise is selling you something.
#us politics#kamala harris#donald trump#2024 presidential election#election results#harris walz 2024#democrats#republicans#politics
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To Sir Graham, With Love Ch. 9
We made it, y'all!!! It's the FINAL CHAPTER!!!! Sorry, not sorry for the first several scenes of this chapter... but y'all know me, the happy ending is GUARANTEED, and I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of this one!!!!
Thank you once again to @jrob64 and @whimsicallyenchantedrose for their outstanding beta services and to @motherkatereloyshipper for her BEAUTIFUL artwork above. I really can't stop staring at it!! It's so perfect!!!!
And also happy happy happiest of birthday's @snowbellewells!!!!! I'm BEYOND THRILLED that you loved this fic so much!!!! I hope this last chapter is the proverbial cherry on top of a huge ice cream sundae!!! I'm posting this ch a little early because Marta is home sick today, so I'm hoping this will help her feel better by putting a huge smile on her face!!!
Summary: After a year long secret correspondence, twenty-eight year old spinster Ruby Jones decides to accept Sir Graham Humbert's offer of a visit to see if they might suit for marriage. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he was the father of twins, and they are not thrilled with Ruby's appearance.
Rating: M (smut and mentions of physical abuse) There is a love scene in this ch, but according to @whimsicallyenchantedrose - who doesn't read or write smut - it's very mild, more smut adjacent than anything, so it is not sectioned off like the scenes in previous chs. If you still want to skip it, stop reading when Graham places Ruby on the bed and pick back up at the next scene change line.
Words: 8k of 68k
Tags: Red Hunter Fic, Birthday Fic, Inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's Story, Smut
On ao3 From Beginning / Current Ch
On Tumblr Prologue Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8
Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.
@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615
@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings
@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @djlbg
@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica
@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter
@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie
@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite
@jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779
@kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love
Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.
… I do not tell you often enough, dear Mother, how very grateful I am that I am yours. It is a rare parent who would offer a child such latitude and understanding. It is an even rarer one who calls a daughter friend. I do love you, dear Mama.
– from Ruby Jones to her mother, Alice, upon refusing her sixth offer of marriage
~*~*~*~*~*~
The ride to Killian and Emma’s was anything but comfortable and by the time Ruby arrived, her foul mood was even worse. And then when Graves opened the door and stared at her as if she was a madwoman, she nearly lost her temper completely.
Until she noticed the look upon his face.
“Graves?” she asked, when it became clear that he was beyond speech.
“Are they expecting you?” he asked, finally gathering himself together.
“Uh, no,” she said, drawing out the final word. “But I hardly think…”
Graves stepped aside - belatedly remembering himself - finally allowing her entrance. “It’s Miss Alice,” he said, referring to Killian and Emma’s oldest child, only five years old. “She’s quite ill.”
Ruby gasped, something awful rising in her throat. “What is it?” she asked, not bothering to hide her urgency. “Is she…” She couldn’t get the rest of the question out, just letting the words dangle, her meaning quite clear.
“I’ll get Mrs. Jones,” he said, turning quickly and scurrying up the stairs.
“No, wait!” Ruby called, wanting to ask him more questions, but he was already gone.
She slumped into a chair, feeling positively sick with worry for her small niece but also rather disgusted with herself for coming here to complain to her sister-in-law about something that didn’t even signify when compared to this.
“Ruby!”
It was Killian, not Emma that came down the stairs. He looked awful - his eyes red-rimmed, his hair in complete disarray, his skin pale and pasty. Ruby didn’t bother asking how long it had been since he slept. The answer was blatantly obvious. He hadn’t closed his eyes in days.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I just came for a visit,” she explained. “Just to say hello. I had no idea! What’s wrong with her? She was fine last week!”
Killian took several moments to answer. “She has a fever. She woke up fine on Saturday, but by luncheon…” He sagged against the wall, unable to go on. “I don’t know what to do, Ruby.”
“What did the doctor say?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, scrubbing his hand down his face. “Nothing useful anyway.”
“May I see her?”
Killian nodded, his eyes closed.
“You need to rest,” Ruby said.
“I can’t.”
“You must,” she insisted. “You’re no good to anyone like this. And I’d wager Emma is the same.”
“I made her sleep an hour ago,” he said. “She looked like death.”
“And you look no better,” Ruby said drily. She purposefully kept her tone no nonsense and business-like. Anything softer and Killian would break down completely. And if Killian broke down, she would break down and no one needed that at the moment. “You must go to bed,” she continued. “Now. I will care for Alice.”
He didn’t respond. He was literally asleep while still on his feet. Ruby took charge, directing Graves to get Killian into bed while she took over the sickroom, trying desperately to contain her gasp of dismay when she entered the room and saw her small niece.
She was so tiny and pale on the bed, but her skin was flushed and her half-lidded eyes were glazed as she thrashed around, mumbling incoherently.
Ruby mopped her brow, turned her, and helped the maids change the sheets when they became drenched with sweat. So focussed was she on her charge, that she didn’t notice when the sun slipped below the horizon. She just thanked God that little Alice didn’t worsen under her care, because according to the servants, Killian and Emma hadn’t left her side for two days straight, and Ruby didn’t think she could survive having to wake them with bad news.
She sat next to the bed, read aloud from her niece's favorite book of Fairy Tales, and told her stories of when her father was a boy. She didn’t think Alice heard a word she said, but it kept her from sitting still and doing nothing. It wasn’t until Emma rose from her stupor around eight that evening and asked about Graham that it occurred to Ruby he might be worried about her. She immediately penned a hastily scribbled note and sent it on to Romney Hall before resuming her vigil. Graham would understand.
~*~*~
By eight o’clock, Graham was forced to the conclusion that one of two things had happened. Either his wife had left him, or she was dead on the side of the road in a carriage accident.
Neither prospect was terribly appealing.
He didn’t think she would leave him. The argument this afternoon notwithstanding, she seemed happy in their marriage and she hadn’t taken a bag with her, but then again, most of her belongings hadn’t yet arrived from London, so she wouldn’t be leaving much behind. Nothing but a husband and two children.
And good God, he’d just told them he thought she was here to stay.
No. She wouldn’t leave him. She didn’t possess a cowardly bone in her body and if she were truly unhappy in their marriage, she’d tell him to his face. Without mincing words and with great vehemence.
Which meant that he’d likely find her on the side of the road. It had been raining steadily all evening and the road between Romney Hall and My Cottage was not well tended to begin with.
Hell, it would be better if she had left him.
But as he strode up the front walk to the door of My Cottage, soaking wet and in a terrible mood, it was looking more like Ruby had decided to abandon him. Abandon them.
“Temper,” he mumbled to himself. Because he’d never been closer to losing his.
Perhaps there was a logical explanation, he thought as he slammed the knocker against the door. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to ride home in the rain. It wasn’t that bad, but it was more than a drizzle.
Maybe her carriage had broken a wheel. No, Killian would have sent her home in his carriage then. He lifted the knocker again and banged it against the door multiple times.
Maybe…
Maybe…
He tried to think of something, anything, that might explain why Ruby was at the home of her brother instead of her own. He couldn’t think of a one. He reached for the knocker again, prepared to wrench it from the door and chuck it into the rain when the door finally opened.
Graves stood there, his mouth hanging open in complete surprise.
“My wife,” Graham growled.
“Sir Graham!” Graves, exclaimed.
Graham didn’t move, simply wiped the rain from his face.
“My wife,” he ground out again.
“She’s here,” Graves informed him. “Come in.”
Graham finally stepped inside. “I want my wife,” he said again. “Now.”
“Let me take your coat.”
“I don’t give a damn about my coat!” Graham roared. “Get me my wife!”
“Did you not receive Lady Humbert’s note?” Graves asked.
“No,” Graham informed him. “I received no note.”
Graves nodded. “I thought you’d arrived rather quickly. You must have passed along the road. Let me take your coat,” he said again. “I believe you’ll be here for some time and you will want to be comfortable,” the man said softly.
A fear he’d never known gripped Graham’s heart. Had something happened to Ruby? He’d just found his children, he couldn’t lose his wife. As he followed Graves up the stairs, his heart and lips murmured silent prayers.
~*~*~
Ruby sat by her niece’s beside, hands clutched in her lap, murmuring, “Please. Please.”
The doctor had left for the second time that day declaring it “in God’s hands.” And if He was the only One Who could do anything about this, then He was the One to Whom she would appeal. When she wasn’t placing cool cloths on Alice’s head, or spooning luke-warm broth between her niece’s lips, that was.
She heard a noise from the doorway and turned to see Graham. Her heart leapt to see him and she flung herself into his arms, heedless that he was soaked to the bone.
“Oh, Graham,” she sobbed, feeling his strong warm arms around her. She was safe and she could finally let go of all the emotions she’d bottled up inside in order to be the rock Killian and Emma needed.
“I thought it was you,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked, drawing back and looking him in the face.
“Graves,” he explained. “He didn’t tell me anything as I was coming up. I thought something had happened to you,” he said, drawing her close again and kissing the crown of her head. “How is she?”
Ruby pulled back and turned toward the sickbed. “Not good,” she murmured.
Graham glanced at Killian and Emma, who’d risen to greet him. They both looked rather not good themselves.
“How long has she been like this?” he asked.
“Since Saturday morning,” Emma replied. Graham approached the bed and placed his large hand on Alice’s forehead.
He shook his head. “I can’t tell. I’m too cold from the rain.”
“She’s feverish,” Killian confirmed.
“What’s been done for her?” Graham asked.
Emma’s eyes widened with a desperate hope. “Do you know something of medicine?” she asked.
“We’ve kept cool cloths on her forehead, fed her broth, and warmed her when she grew too cold. Nothing seems to help,” Killian said hopelessly. Suddenly, Emma collapsed, crumpling to the floor sobbing.
“Emma!” Killian cried, falling down next to her and holding her as she cried. Graham and Ruby both looked away when they realized Killian was crying too.
“Willow bark tea,” Graham whispered to Ruby. “Has she had any?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “Why?”
“It’s something I learned at Cambridge,” he said. “It used to be given for pain before laudanum became so popular, but one of my professors insisted that it also reduced fevers.”
Ruby nodded and turned to her brother and sister-in-law. She marched right over and shook Killian’s shoulder.
“Willow bark tea,” she said matter-of-factly. “Do you have any?”
Killian just stared at her blinking for a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” he stammered.
“Mrs. Miner might,” Emma said, referring to one half of the couple that had been caretakers of My Cottage for years. They had all but adopted her when she and Killian were here for nearly a fortnight while he recovered from his own fever after they’d been reunited. “She always has things like that. But they’re visiting their daughter and won’t be home for several more days.”
“Can you get into their house?” Graham asked. “I’ll recognize it if she has any. It won’t be a tea, just the bark. We’ll soak it in hot water. It might help bring down the fever.”
Emma wiped away her tears, her eyes bewildered. “You want to cure my daughter with the bark of a tree?” she asked.
“It certainly can’t hurt anything,” Killian said forcefully. “Come on, Humbert. I have a key to their house. I’ll take you myself.” Before they went out the front door, Killian stopped and looked hard at Graham. “Do you know what you’re about?” he asked quietly.
Graham looked him right in the eyes, and answered as honestly as he could. “I hope so.” He struggled not to squirm under Killian’s scrutiny. It was one thing to allow him to marry his sister, given the circumstances, but it was something altogether different to allow him to pour some concoction down his daughter’s throat.
But Graham understood. He had children, too.
Killian nodded decisively and led him out into the night. As they strode through the rain, Graham could only pray that Killian’s faith in him wasn’t misplaced.
~*~*~
In the end, no one could really tell whether it was Ruby’s prayers, the willow bark tea, or just dumb luck, but by morning, little Alice’s fever had finally broken and while she was still pale and fatigued, she was without a doubt on the mend.
And by noon, it was clear that Ruby and Graham were no longer needed, and were in fact, just getting in the way, so they loaded into the carriage and began the journey home where they planned to fall into bed to simply sleep.
The first ten minutes of the ride was spent in silence. Surprisingly, Ruby found herself too exhausted to sleep and she couldn’t summon the energy to talk, so just looked out the window at the passing countryside.
It had finally stopped raining about the time Alice’s fever had broken, which may have spoken to the Divine intervention Ruby had prayed for, but as she looked at her husband, who sat with his back against the side of the carriage, his legs stretched out across the bench on the other side with his eyes closed - though Ruby was quite sure he wasn’t asleep - she knew without a doubt that it was the willow bark tea.
She didn’t know how she knew. But she did. And when she thought about the circumstances surrounding the entire situation - Ruby’s uneasiness about Nurse Ratched, the fight with Graham, her flight to My Cottage, Graham coming after her - young Alice Jones was quite the luckiest little girl in all of England.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?” Graham said, his eyes remaining firmly closed.
“For Alice.”
Graham opened his eyes then and met hers. He shrugged. “There’s no way to know. It might not have been willow bark.”
“I know,” she said, with certainty. “You were an answer to my prayers.”
Graham’s lips lifted in a tired smile. “You always do know.”
Ruby smiled back and thought to herself how wonderful it was. Just this. The easy comfort and familiarity of being with someone, that one just knew was right. Right where one belonged.
Ruby reached across and placed her hand on his. “It was so awful,” she said, surprised when she realized there were tears in her eyes. “I can’t imagine what Emma and Killian were going through.”
“Nor can I,” Graham whispered, squeezing her hand.
“If it had been one of our children…” Her voice trailed away as she realized. It was the first time she’d referred to Ava and Nicholas as theirs.
Graham was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, he didn’t look at her but continued staring out the window. “The entire time with Alice,” he whispered, “all I could think of was how grateful I was that it wasn’t Nicholas or Ava.” He looked at her then, guilt written all over his face. “But it shouldn’t be any child.”
“There’s nothing wrong with such feelings,” she assured him. “They make you a good father. A very good father, I think.”
He looked at her oddly for a moment and then looked down at where their hands were still clasped. “No, I’m not,” he said gravely. “But I hope to be better.”
Ruby’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You were right,” he said, looking back up at her. “About Nurse Ratched. I didn’t want anything to be wrong, so I paid no attention, but you were right. She was beating them.”
“WHAT?!”
“With a book,” he continued, his voice perfectly level. “I walked in and she was beating Ava across the back with a book. She’d already finished with Nicholas.”
Tears of sorrow and anger filled Ruby’s eyes. “I never dreamed. I should have seen. I should have known.”
Graham scoffed. “If I didn’t see in the months she was living with us, how could you have seen when you’d only been there a fortnight?” he asked.
Ruby was silent for a few moments. “I assume you dismissed her,” she said.
Graham nodded. “I nearly threw her out the door myself when she wasn’t moving fast enough.”
Ruby snorted. “If you hadn’t, I would have,” she said.
“I told the children you’d help find a replacement,” he said.
“Of course!” she exclaimed.
“And I…” His voice trailed away for a moment and he looked out the window before he continued speaking. “I’m going to be a better father,” he whispered. “I’ve spent years pushing them away. Always afraid of becoming like my father.”
“Graham,” Ruby cajoled. “You couldn’t possibly be. You are so different from your father.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But I thought I could. I got a whip once. I went out to the stable, blindingly angry, and got a whip.” He dropped his head in his hands and Ruby’s heart broke for him.
“But you didn’t use it,” she said with certainty.
“But I wanted to,” he confessed.
“But you didn’t,” she repeated.
“I was so angry,” he said again, as if he didn’t even hear her, too lost in his own memory. But then he looked at her and something in his eyes was shattered and Ruby wanted nothing more than to gather him close and heal all those jagged edges inside him. To make him see himself as she saw him - a flawed man, yes, but a good and honorable one, too, who’d never hurt his children the way he had been. “Do you understand what it means to be frightened by your own anger?”
Ruby shook her head.
“I’m not a small man, Ruby,” he said. “I could hurt someone.”
“So could I,” she reasoned with him. He sent her a dry look and she shrugged. “Well, maybe not you, but I’m certainly big enough to hurt a child.”
He snorted and turned back to the window. “You would never do that.”
“And neither would you.”
He was silent and understanding dawned on Ruby. “Graham,” she began. “You said you were angry, but… who were you angry with?”
He stared at her, slightly dazed. “Ruby,” he said. “They glued their governess’ hair to the sheets.”
“Oh, I know,” she assured him, “I’m quite certain I would have throttled them myself had I been around when it happened. But that wasn’t my question.” She stopped and waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she clarified. “Were you angry with them about the glue? Or were you angry with yourself because you couldn’t make them mind?”
He didn’t say anything, but that silence told her more than any words could.
“Graham, you are nothing like your father.”
“I know that now,” he said softly. “When I discovered what Nurse Ratched had done, you have no idea how much I wanted to rip her limb from limb.”
Ruby snorted. “I can imagine,” she said. “I would have wanted to do the same.”
Graham felt his lips twitch. There was something comforting and almost funny about their similar thoughts and feelings about the matter. It felt quite good.
“She deserved nothing less,” Ruby continued. “But you didn’t touch her, did you?”
“No,” he replied slowly in realization. “And if I could keep control of my temper with her, I could certainly keep control of it with my children.”
“Of course,” Ruby agreed. She patted his hand and then sat back, looking out the window.
She had such belief in him. It was an utterly foreign concept. She truly had faith in his inner goodness, in the quality of his soul, when he’d been wracked with guilt and worry for so many years.
“I’d thought you left me,” he blurted out.
She turned back to him, surprise written all over her face. “What? Why would you think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Perhaps it was because you left and didn’t come back.”
Ruby rolled her eyes at him. “It’s perfectly clear now why I was delayed, and besides, I’d never leave you. You should know that.”
He raised a brow at her. “Should I?”
“Of course you should!” she exclaimed, her green eyes beginning to flash. “I made a vow on our wedding day, and I can assure you, I don’t take that lightly.” She was silent for just a moment before she continued, her tone and indignation ramping up with each sentence. “And the children! They’ve already lost one mother, through no fault of their own. Did you really think I’d make them go through all of that a second time? You know me better than that.” She turned to him with a supremely irritated expression on her face. “I cannot believe you thought that of me!”
Graham was beginning to think the same thing himself. How could he have thought that of Ruby? He’d only known her… Dear God. Had it really only been two weeks? In many ways, it felt like a lifetime. Because, he was quite convinced, he did know her. Inside and out. And he should have known better than to think she’d abandon their marriage.
It was the panic. That was all. Panic that she might really have been killed somewhere on the road. If that had truly been the case… He wasn’t prepared for the stab of agony in his heart at the thought.
When had that happened? When had she come to mean so much to him? He’d told himself, and her as well, over and over again that he married her to be a mother to his children. But when she’d mentioned the vow and that her commitment to the children was too strong, he’d felt a stab of jealousy.
Jealous. Of his own children.
He wanted her to want him. Not because she’d made a vow, but because she couldn’t live without him. Perhaps because she loved him.
Somewhere in the passion - in the intoxication of the pleasure of her touch, the sounds of her moans and gasps, in the force of his own pleasure when he exploded inside of her - she’d touched his heart. And changed it.
Changed him.
He loved her.
He hadn’t been looking for love. Hadn’t even given a thought to it, but there it was. And it was the most beautiful and precious thing imaginable.
He was at the dawn of a new day. A new chapter in his life. It was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. He did not want to fail. He couldn’t. Not when he’d just found everything he needed. Ruby. His children. Himself.
It had been years since he’d felt comfortable in his own skin. When he could trust his own instincts. When he could look at himself in the mirror and not avoid his own gaze.
They were pulling up at Romney Hall. A footman appeared to help Ruby down. She turned to him and smiled gently.
“I’m exhausted, and you look the same,” she observed. “Shall we go up and take a nap?”
Graham looked up to the third floor nursery for a moment before turning back to his bride.
“You go on ahead,” he said. “I’ll be along in a bit. Right now, I think I want to go hug my children.”
Ruby smiled and turned to enter the house.
When she woke, many hours later, she was surprised to see that Graham’s side of the bed was undisturbed. He’d been just as exhausted as she was, but perhaps instead of sleep, he just needed time to himself to think after the difficulties of the last few days.
Just because she didn’t prefer solitude, didn’t mean that everyone agreed with her. It didn’t mean that Graham agreed with her.
They were two very different people, and if she was going to live with him as his wife, she was going to have to make some concessions to his personality and temperament, just as he was doing the same for hers.
She didn’t see him the rest of the day. Not when she took tea in the afternoon, not when she tucked the twins into bed, not when she ate her lonely supper. After her obligatory two bites of pudding, she got up, not wishing to prolong her meal any longer, fully intending to retire to her bed. But as soon as she left the dining room, she knew she wasn’t ready to sleep yet.
She walked, somewhat aimlessly, through the house until her feet carried her to the portrait gallery. She hadn’t been inside it since that first night after she’d arrived at Romney Hall. She opened the door and gasped in surprise to see Graham sitting in the chair, just staring up at the portrait of Jacinda with the children.
He gave no indication that he’d heard her. Just continued staring, the look on his face bleak and so full of sorrow that it nearly broke Ruby’s heart.
Had he lied to her when he said he’d never loved Jacinda? Never felt passion for her? No. He hadn’t lied. She knew it in her marrow.
But what did it really matter? Jacinda was dead. She was in no way in competition for Graham’s affections. And it wasn’t as if Graham loved Ruby anyway. And she certainly didn’t lo…
But in one of those flashes of insight that might as well knock the breath out of one’s lungs, Ruby realized, she did.
She thought back on the last two weeks - had it really only been two weeks? - wondering when it might have happened. Wondering how it happened. But this feeling she had for him, the affection and respect, had grown into something deeper. And oh, how she desperately wanted Graham to feel the same way.
He may need her - of that she was quite sure, both in the physical aspect of their marriage, but also in the caring for the household and the children - but she wanted him to love her the way she loved him.
She loved the way he smiled, the boyish grin that spoke of secrets and mischief, and as if he couldn’t quite believe in his own happiness. She loved the way he looked at her, as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She loved the way he actually listened to what she had to say and how he wouldn’t let her cow him. She even loved the way he told her she talked too much. Because he always said it with a smile on his face. And she loved the way he still listened to her after telling her she talked too much.
She loved the way he loved his children. She loved his honor, his honesty, and his sly sense of humor. And she loved the way she fit into his life and the way he fit into hers.
It was comfortable. And it was right.
This was where she belonged.
She loved him. She needed him. Not a dead woman.
As she watched him looking at the portrait, his words from yesterday finally sank in. He’d said he hadn’t laid with a woman in eight years.
Eight years.
Jacinda had only been gone fifteen months. If Graham had gone without a woman for eight years… Ruby did some mental math. They hadn’t shared any physical intimacy since the twins had been conceived. No, that wasn’t right. It would have been shortly after the twins were born. Just a little bit.
It was possible that Graham was mistaken about the dates, but somehow, Ruby didn’t think so. She thought Graham knew exactly when the last time was, and now that she’d pinpointed it as well, she realized it must have been a terrible experience indeed.
But he hadn’t betrayed her. Hadn’t betrayed her or his marriage vows. He’d remained faithful to a woman who’d banned him from her bed. Ruby wasn’t really surprised, given his honesty and integrity, but she wouldn’t have thought less of him for seeking physical comfort elsewhere.
But the fact that he hadn’t… It made her love him all the more.
Ruby stepped forward and cleared her throat. She was surprised when he quickly turned his attention upon her. She’d believed him so lost in thought that he wouldn’t realize he was no longer alone. He held out his hand to her and she stepped toward him and took it, turning with him to face Jacinda’s portrait.
“Did you love her?” she asked quietly.
“No.” And even though she’d asked the question before, and received the same answer, the relief she felt at the simple affirmation was profound.
“Do you miss her?”
“No.” He was silent for a few moments, just continued to stare at her portrait. “She was sad. Always so sad.” Another pause. “It was worse after the twins were born. The midwife said it was normal for women to cry after childbirth, but not to worry. It would disappear in a few weeks.”
“But it didn’t,” Ruby murmured.
“It was like she sank even further into herself,” he said quietly. “Almost like she disappeared.” His throat worked and his eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to formulate the words he wanted - no, needed - to say. “She rarely left her bed. She never smiled. And she cried. A great deal.” He finally turned to Ruby and looked her square in the eyes. “I tried everything to make her happy. Everything in my power. Everything I knew. But it wasn’t enough.” His eyes filled with tears and Ruby cupped his jaw with her other hand. “It wasn’t enough,” he whispered.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ruby said. She may not have known Jacinda as an adult, but she knew Graham and she knew her words were true.
“Eventually I just gave up,” he admitted, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “I was so sick and tired of beating my head against a wall. All I could do was try to keep the children away from her when she was really bad. They loved her so much.”
“I know,” she assured him.
“She was their mother. And she didn’t… she couldn’t…”
“But you were there,” Ruby said fervently.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “And a fat lot of good it did them. How terrible is it to have one bad parent? And my children were born with two…”
“You are not a bad father,” Ruby said, the vehemence in her words surprising even her.
“It hurt so much,” he whispered.
“What did?”
“When she died,” he explained. “To try so damned hard for so many years and never succeed. To never be able to break through to her.” He turned and looked at her again. “I just needed someone who was happy. Who would be there for the children. Someone who wouldn’t…” He cut himself off and turned away.
“Someone who wouldn’t what?” she asked, sensing that his answer was very important, indeed.
“She didn’t fall in the lake by accident,” Graham whispered. Ruby gasped. He’d told her Jacinda had died in the lake, but she assumed it was an accident. She never thought that her cousin might take her own life. “She walked straight into the water. And I didn’t reach her in time.”
“Oh, Graham,” Ruby breathed. “I’m so sorry.” She was truly, even if Jacinda’s death had made her own happiness possible.
“You don’t understand,” Graham snapped. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t know what it’s like to feel trapped. Hopeless. Stuck. To try so hard and never, ever, break through. I tried. Every single day, I tried. I tried for me. I tried for her. I especially tried for Nicholas and Ava. Everything I knew. Everything everyone told me to do. Nothing worked. I’d try, and she’d cry. I’d try again and she’d do nothing but dig herself deeper into her damned bed and pull the covers over her head. She lived in complete darkness with her curtains drawn and then on the first sunny day in weeks,” he turned to her, eyes blazing, “she goes and kills herself.” He laughed, a short bitter thing. “After all of that, she had to ruin sunny days for me too.” He rose from the chair and looked at the portrait again. “I tried so hard,” his voice, filled with resignation and regret, trailed away for a moment. “And still, every day, I wished I was married to someone else. Anyone else.”
He turned to look at her again, and the tears were gone, replaced with a vehement passion that took Ruby’s breath away.
“Yesterday you said we had a problem,” he said, taking her hand.
“No, that’s not what I meant…” she tried to interrupt, but he kept speaking as if he didn’t hear her.
“You said we have a problem,” he repeated. “But until you’ve lived through what I’ve lived through - until you’ve been trapped in a hopeless marriage, with a hopeless spouse, until you’ve gone to bed for years wanting nothing more than the touch of another human being…” He looked down at their joined hands and gently rubbed Ruby’s knuckles with his thumb. “Do not tell me that we have a problem. Because to me,” he choked on his words but kept on going, “to me, what we have, this - us, - is heaven.”
“Oh, Graham,” she breathed and threw herself into his arms, her own tears soaking his shirt.
“I don’t want to fail again,” he choked out, burying his face in her neck. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“No, you won’t,” she assured him. “We won’t.”
“You have to be happy,” he said. “Please tell me…”
“I am. I promise,” she vowed.
He pulled back, cupping her chin with his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. Looking for the truth of her words.
“I am happy, Graham,” she repeated, covering his hands with her own. “More than I ever thought possible. And I am proud to be your wife.”
Graham’s lower lip began to tremble and the tears reappeared in his eyes again before they began streaming down his face.
“I love you, Ruby,” he breathed. “And I don’t even care that you don’t feel the same…”
“Oh, Graham,” she cried, cutting him off, and wiping his tears away, even as her own continued to fall. “I love you, too.”
Graham crushed Ruby to him, his lips meeting hers in a passionate dance of love felt and reciprocated. He picked her up, bridal style, his lips never leaving hers and carried her through the halls to their bedchamber.
He lowered her to the bed and pulled back, pulling off his clothes in haste as Ruby did the same.
“I need you, Ruby,” he said, laying down beside her. “I need you like I need to breathe. Like I need food, water.”
“Yes,” Ruby moaned. “I need you, too.” All she could do was reach for him and give herself to him with all that she was. She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as he touched her, kissed her, sending her higher and higher until her tears couldn’t be held back any longer.
“Don’t cry,” he soothed, brushing one away.
“I can’t help it,” she cried, her voice shaking. “I just love you so much. I didn’t think… I’d hoped… but…”
“I know,” he assured her. “I never thought it would happen to me. I think I’ve waited my entire life for you.”
“I know I’ve waited my entire life for you,” she said cheekily. She rolled on her back, drawing her with him until he was nestled between her legs. “Don’t go slowly,” she urged.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said as he surged into her, filling her completely.
They moved together, but it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire. And a tempest. And total reckless abandon. Both of them reaching for that peak that seemed just out of reach, until they reached it together in a cascade of ecstasy that made Ruby arch, lifting them both from the bed with the power of her completion and Graham roar her name as he emptied himself into her.
Ruby collapsed back to the mattress, Graham’s weight pinning her down. Not that she minded in the least. She loved these moments, when they were both too spent to move. She loved the weight of him, the smell and taste of the sweat on his skin after their lovemaking.
She loved him.
It was that simple. She loved him and he loved her. And it was all she needed.
~*~*~
The next week would forever be remembered by Ruby as the most magical of her life. Nothing special happened - no birthdays, no unexpected guests, no extravagant gifts.
But on the inside, everything changed.
The well of happiness was overflowing and seemingly without end. And she could sense the same thing inside of Graham as well.
She woke one morning, pleasantly sore in all the right places, to see Graham, fully dressed, sitting at the foot of the bed simply watching her.
“Good morning,” she said, sitting up and tucking the sheet around her naked breasts. “What are you doing there?”
“Watching you,” he said, an indulgent smile on his face.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she felt her cheeks heat. “That can’t possibly be very interesting.”
“On the contrary,” he replied, “I can’t think of anything that would hold my attention for so long.”
Her blush intensified and she wondered if perhaps she’d be able to convince him to join her in the bed again. But then she remembered he was already dressed and had probably done so for a reason.
“I brought you a muffin,” he said, holding it out to her. She thanked him and began eating when he spoke again. “I thought we might go on an outing today.”
“Really?” she asked in surprise. “You and me?”
“Actually, I thought maybe the four of us.”
Ruby froze, the muffin halfway to her mouth. To her knowledge, this was the first time Graham was reaching out to his children, rather than setting them aside and hoping someone else would see to them.
“I think that’s a lovely idea,” she breathed.
“Good,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ll leave you to your morning routine and inform that poor housemaid that you bullied into being their nurse that we’ll be taking them for the day.”
“I didn’t bully her… exactly,” Ruby protested feebly. Mary hadn’t wanted to take the position of nursemaid, even on a temporary basis, none of the servants had. Ruby couldn’t really blame them after the debacle with their former governess, but for that reason, Ruby had extracted a promise from the twins that they would treat Mary with the respect due to the Queen, and so far they’d held up their side of the bargain.
Ruby glanced up and saw Graham just standing in the doorway, not moving.
“Graham?” she asked. “What is it?”
He turned to her, his eyes a bit bewildered. “I don’t know what to do. There’s nothing going on in the village today, no fairs or events, I mean. What should we do?”
Ruby smiled gently at him. “Anything at all, Graham. All they want is you.”
Two hours later, Graham and Nicholas were standing outside the Larkin’s Fine Tailor and Dressmaker in the village of Tetbury, waiting somewhat impatiently while Ruby and Ava finalized their purchases inside.
“Did we have to go shopping?” Nicholas whined.
Graham chuckled. “It was what your mother wanted to do.”
“Next time, the men get to choose,” he grumbled. “If I’d known having a mother meant this…”
“We men must make sacrifices for the women we love,” his father informed him, patting him on the shoulder. He looked inside the shop window and saw that the ladies didn’t appear to be anywhere near finished. “But as to our next outing,” he whispered conspiratorially to his son, “I agree whole-heartedly.”
Just then, Ruby poked her head out. “Nicholas, would you like to come in?”
“No!” he said vehemently, shaking his head for emphasis.
“Allow me to rephrase,” Ruby replied, not missing a beat. “Nicholas, I would like you to come in please.”
Nicholas turned pleading eyes upon his father, making Graham chuckle. “I’m afraid you must do as she says.”
Nicholas grumbled under his breath as he climbed the steps, but just before he entered the door, he turned back to his father. “Aren’t you coming?”
Hell no, Graham almost said, but he bit his tongue just in time. “No,” he said instead, “I need to stay out here and watch the carriage.”
Nicholas’ eyes narrowed. “Why does the carriage need watching?”
“Yes, you need to come in as well, Graham,” Ruby said sweetly. Graham groaned. “You need new shirts.”
“Can’t the tailor just come out to the house?”
“Don’t you want to pick the fabric?” she asked.
“I trust you implicitly,” he said. Ruby frowned at him, and Graham sighed. “Very well, I’ll come in.”
“Thank you,” she said, leading them both inside.
Graham found himself on the ladies side surrounded by bolts and yards of frilly and lacey, sparkly and shiny. He felt about as comfortable there as he did in formal wear.
Ruby kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “When Ava comes out, make a fuss.”
“I’m not very good at that sort of thing,” he said quietly.
She smiled up at him. “Learn,” she said just as quietly, then turned her attention to Nicholas. “And now for you, Master Humbert. Mrs. Larkin…”
“I want Mr. Larkin, like Father,” Nicholas protested.
Ruby looked at him, surprised. “You want Mr. Larkin? The tailor?” she asked. Nicholas nodded. Ruby was silent for a moment, pondering his request and Graham could see Nicholas start to squirm with impatience and anxiety that she might deny him. “Very well then, off you go.”
Nicholas wasted no time at all and all but ran into the other side of the shop. Graham leaned over to his wife.
“You are good,” he praised, whispering in her ear.
A small smile pricked the corners of her lips. “Yes, I am,” she agreed.
Not a moment later, a blood curdling howl reached them and Nicholas ran back in. Straight to Ruby, which left Graham feeling a bit bereft. He wanted his children to run to him.
“He stuck me with a pin!”
“Were you squirming?” Ruby asked, not bothered in the least.
“No!”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Maybe just a tiny bit,” he said, sheepishly.
“Right then. Don’t move next time,” Ruby said briskly. “I can assure you Mr. Larkin is very good at his job and if you don’t move, you won’t get stuck with a pin. It’s as simple as that.”
Nicholas looked up at his father with pleading eyes, and as nice as it was to be seen as an ally, he couldn’t contradict Ruby in front of his son like that. But then Nicholas surprised him. He walked back toward the other side without complaint and then turned back toward them for a moment.
“Father, will you come with me? Please?”
Graham opened his mouth to reply, but then had to stop, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He couldn’t speak. He was, quite simply, overcome.
It wasn’t just the moment - the fact that his son wanted him to accompany him in this male right of passage - but it was the absolute confidence and assurance that if he followed his son to the other side, he’d know the exact right thing to say and do when they got there. He wasn’t his own father. He could never be. And with Ruby by his side, he knew he could do anything. Even manage the twins.
Graham laid his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’d be proud to go with you, son.” He cleared his throat of the hoarseness that had crept in, then bent down to his son’s ear. “The last thing we need is women on the men’s side.” Nicholas nodded in agreement.
Graham rose back up, but before he could take a step, he heard Ruby clearing her throat behind him. He turned toward her, but his gaze came to a stop and his eyes widened as he saw his little girl all dressed up in a lovely lavender frock, showing just a hint of the woman she’d one day become.
For the second time in as many minutes, Graham’s eyes filled with tears. This is what he’d been missing. In his fear, in his self-doubt, he’d been missing this. His children, growing up without him.
Graham patted Nicholas’ shoulder, letting him know he’d be right back, and walked to Ava’s side. Without a word, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.
“You, Miss Ava Humbert,” he said, his heart in his words, in his smile, in his eyes, “are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”
Ava gasped in surprise and blushed under his praise. “But what about Mother?” she asked.
Graham knelt by her side and looked over at his bride, whose own eyes were filled with tears. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, quietly. “We’ll say that your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world, and you are the most beautiful girl. And someday, when you’re all grown up, you can believe that your mother is the most beautiful woman, and I’ll still say that you are.”
And later that night, when he kissed the children on their foreheads and tucked them into their beds, Ava whispered.
“Father?”
“Yes, Ava?”
“This was the best day ever.”
“Ever,” agreed Nicholas.
Graham smiled down at them. “For me as well.”
~*~*~
It started with a note.
Later that night, as Ruby finished her supper and her plate was cleared away, she realized there was a small folded note underneath. Graham had excused himself a few minutes earlier, claiming that he needed to locate a book of poetry they’d been discussing during the meal. So once she was alone, she unfolded the note and read the words contained within.
I have never been good with words.
And then, at the bottom of the paper,
Proceed to your office.
Puzzled, but intrigued, she rose and made her way to her office. There, she found another note in the center of her desk.
But it all started with a letter, did it not?
Then followed instructions to take herself to the sitting room, which she followed, being very conscious to keep a sedate pace instead of breaking into a thoroughly inelegant run. The next note was found on the center of the sofa.
And so if it started with words, it ought to continue with them, too.
This time she was directed to the front hall.
But there are no words to thank you for all you have given me, so I will use the only ones at my disposal, and I will tell you the only way I know how.
This time, she was to proceed to her bedchamber.
Ruby headed up the stairs, her heart thumping in excitement and anticipation. This was her final destination, she was sure. Graham would be waiting for her, to take her hand and lead her into their future.
It had all started with a note. A short, but heartfelt note of condolence, that had led her here. To a love so full and all-encompassing, Ruby had trouble containing it. She reached the upstairs hall and stepped forward toward her room, where the door was just slightly ajar.
She pushed it open with shaking hands and gasped.
For covering the bed were flowers. Hundreds and hundreds of blooms of every variety and color, some clearly out of season, from Graham’s special collection. And written in blossoms of red, against the backdrop of white and pink petals…
I Love You
“Words aren’t enough,” Graham said softly, stepping out of the shadows.
She turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Speechless?” he asked, with a smirk. “You? I must be better at this than I thought.”
“I love you,” she whispered, choking on the words. “I love you so much.”
His arms came around her, and as she rested her head on his chest, his heart beating under her cheek, he rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Tonight the twins said that today was the best day ever,” he said softly. “And I realized they were right.”
Ruby nodded in agreement.
“But then I realized they were wrong.”
Ruby pulled back, a question in her eyes.
“I couldn’t choose a day,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “Any day with you, Ruby. Any week, any month, any hour.” He tilted her chin up and brushed her lips with his gently, but with all the love in his soul. “Any moment,” he whispered. “As long as I’m with you.”
The End
~*~*~
Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me!!! I so hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear what you thought!!! Happy birthday, Marta!! Love you!!!
#to sir graham with love#krystal writes#art by motherkatereloyshipper#birthday fic for marta#red hunter fic
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Hello ! I think tumblr ate my ask so here I go again (If it didn't, and you just not had time to answer it, ignore this one) :
Before dying, Robin fell in love with a girl and got her pregnant on accident. He died before she could tell him, and therefore nobody knew except for the girl. The only thing she had from him was a portrait of Robin and Hob made for Robin's 20th birthday, that he gave to her.
The portrait become an heirloom and despite rough bump, it stayed into the family for centuries.
Cue to 2022 where Eleanor (7th of the name and absolute likness of the first one) find that here history teacher has a striking resemblance to her ancestor's father. She learns that he's working in a pub on the Friday's nights and decide to go see him. Maybe he's part of extended family!
Hob's nearly have a heart attack when he sees his dead wife stroll into the New In one Friday night, clutching against her a portrait of his dead son.
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🦩
Ooo yes I think your other ask did disappear into the ether! Thanks for resending it!
I do occasionally think about Hob’s genetics (as you do). Because lets just say that he did reproduce at some point (discounting Robyn for a second). Due to the way time, genetics and reproduction works, everyone with British ancestory is said to be "descended between 21 to 24 generations from Edward III". Now, Edward III is Hob’s direct contemporary more or less. He had 13 legitimate children AND a few on the side, so it's not hard to see how his genes got about a bit. But lets face it, Hob has had A LOT more time to spread his wild oats than Edward did. I don't know what my point is here BUT. I think that Hob’s genes are definitely probably spread far and wide and I think it's quite funny.
All that being said, how absolutely terrifying would it be for Hob to see an absolutely likeness of Eleanor in the modern age! He doesn't believe in ghosts but there she is, and she's looking right at him like she's trying to pierce his soul. He has a minor coronary incident right there behind the bar and is once again so glad he can't die, because he needs to figure this out.
He's honestly devastated to find out that Robyn had a child! Because he would have loved that baby so much. Maybe he wouldn't have gone quite so far off the rails. But what's done is done. He tells modern Eleanor that they must be distant cousins! And he spends an age staring at the picture of Robyn, his boy, trying hard not to sob in front of everyone.
Dream takes him home and puts him to bed that night, and gives him fuzzy, distant, comforting dreams about home and family. Robyn and his baby, Hob and Dream together, and Eleanor of course. Hob wakes up with damp eyes, but he's so glad to be alive. Always, always glad.
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