#i think it'll be hard until march

[dduane]

Oh, just in passing: a couple of SPOCK'S WORLD notes

(from @magicalgirlcrazycatlady:

!!!!!!! AUDIOBOOK SPOCK'S WORLD!!!! EXISTS? READ BY THOSE TWO?????????

Yep. If you go over to, say, Ebay, you can usually find somebody selling the audiobook on cassette (and if you're very lucky, on CD).

It hasn't been reissued in decades, and I can't really be sure why. It may be that there are union-based (meaning SAG[-AFTRA]) issues with the way Nimoy and Takei were compensated for the original performances; so that if the audiobook was reissued in more modern media, the publisher would have to deal with the way union rules for such performances have changed. (Which might run into serious money.)

In any case, it's a shame it's not more readily available. Both of the gentlemen involved did a fabulous job. I've had the pleasure of telling George so, and I'm sad not to have been able to tell Nimoy the same. (sigh) Anyway, it was a pleasure and a privilege to be involved in the endeavor.

...Also, per @rightspocko:

#oh my god you did that in 2 weeks#and you rewrote it so quickly and it’s still superb!#i never would’ve guessed because it’s so well structured and well written

The rewrite went as well as it did (and frankly as well as it could have done, under the circumstances) because before I ever started work on that book, I'd written a comprehensive outline.

It's not widely understood, I think, that when you're writing for a big IP owner / licensor, it is impossible to sell them a new project without first writing an outline that makes plain what it'll contain. Pantsing—however much some writers may enjoy that mode of novel writing, however much some may feel it to be the superior mode—has no place in the licensed-universe sales process. No licensor is going to even agree in principle with your agent that you're going to be brought in to do an original novel, let alone write the contract to back up their intent, until you've submitted an outline that tells Corporate in considerable detail what they (and their stockholders) are going to be getting for their money.

In the case of Spock's World, this rule went double, perhaps triple—regardless of the success of my previous work for Trek and Pocket. Spock's World was going to be their very first ever hardcover Star Trek novel. The whole project was a gamble... and the corporate Powers that Be therefore needed to know exactly what I was going to be giving them. So I did what I usually do for a book of the projected length—an outline somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-25 single-spaced pages. (ETA: For the hell of it, I just spent half an hour or so digging around for it, and [at the virtual "bottom" of a storage hard drive] found the ancient .arc file in which it'd been packed away. The outline is dated March 3rd, 1988, and comes to about 22 single-spaced pages. ...Call it 8K words and change.)

The outline, as always, was the "road map" I'd drawn for where I was going, to avoid wasting time in possibly getting lost along the way. All the structural work and serious plotting was already complete in the outline... ready to have the prose racked up in it, as a bookshelf's built ready to house its books.

And that's why the result, despite the near-disaster, still looks okay. All I had to do* was write again what "lost material" I'd already written, with the outline to guide me, or prompt me, where my memory failed. To this day I feel strongly that the book was significantly better because of that second write-through, however enforced. So this whole process turned into kind of a blessing in disguise (despite my poor lower back's more or less constant screams of protest).

That outline was what saved my butt... as others would, in years to come, further down the line. Those interested in having their own butts saved when necessary, and their writing life generally made less stressy, can look over here and see the outlining "blueprint" I use. C. J. Cherryh put me onto it; and what Carolyn doesn't know about writing a well- and tightly-plotted SF novel, seriously doesn't matter.

...And now I'm going to go make some spaghetti sauce. :)

*"All I had to do." CAN I EVEN HEAR MYSELF. (helpless laughter) It was like climbing hand over hand out of hell. But at least I could always see the light at the top of the tunnel...

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

21 Days !NSFW!

Avenger!Agatha x Avenger!Reader

Word count: 10,435

Content warnings: MDNI; literally this oneshot is centered around sex and sex toys, sex ban, heavy smut, breeding kink (ofc), tummy bulge, size kink, mommy kink, lots of eye contact, reader gets fucked on a Steinway piano, crying kink, scissoring???but with a vibrator???, reader's blindfolded, hand holding, slight choking, a bit of overstimulation, squirting

Summary: With 3 weeks left until your wedding, Agatha comes up with a fun little idea for the both of you to refrain from any sexual activities until the wedding night.

A/N: Hi hi!! I have a bunch of stuff going on! I'm moving to Miami next weekend, so there will probably be one last oneshot posted after this. It'll be a part 2 to Snacks, Candy, and Prenatal Vitamins.

This is a really long oneshot. On Thursday I reread everything I wrote from the bachelorette party to the wedding and realized I hated all 3,565 words. So, I deleted them and rewrote it. It quite literally felt like I was writing this for 21 days. The things I do...Anyway I love you guys! Thank you so much for your support on everything, and I hope you enjoy! Also I’m making a tag list so lmk if you wanna be a part of it!

Spotify playlist here

Ao3 here

Masterlist here

Tag list: @sweetmidnights

3 weeks. 21 days. 30,240 minutes. 1,814,400 seconds.

You’ve had long weeks before, but these three weeks have been the absolute hardest of your very long life. When Agatha had proposed the idea to you, you were on board–excited even.

The last three weeks leading up to your wedding are supposed to be filled with nail appointments and last minute preparation.

Not this.

But, god, did you love the feeling and anticipation.

March 23, 2030

3 weeks before the wedding

It’s a quiet Saturday evening at your house in Westview–a stark contrast to the Tower back in New York City. Agatha slumps down on the couch beside you. She’s quiet. Too quiet. 

But you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you continue to read your book in silence.  

She leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder. A deep sigh leaves her and you continue ignoring her. Her hand starts to run up and down your thigh and she sighs again.

You lower your book and turn your head, raising an eyebrow at her. “Can I help you?”

Agatha lifts her head and smiles. “You can, actually,” she says. And you note that mischievous look immediately. Her eyes narrow and you know she’s concocting a plan. “You know,” she says, hand patting your thigh, “our wedding is in three weeks…”

“Yes…and?”

“And,” she continues, “I was thinking we could have some fun with these last few weeks…”

She bites her lips and fingers trail over your shoulder, eyes looking you up and down. You set your book down on the side table and look at her suspiciously. “What kind of fun?”

Her voice is low and gravelly–that tone that always gets you going. “Well, maybe we could completely refrain from any se–”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you say. “You won’t be able to last.”

She sits up straight, jaw dropped. “I won’t be able to last?” When you nod she scoffs. “Oh, okay. You won’t be able to last!” 

“Please!” you bluster. “I can last!”

Agatha rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, grinning. “After last night, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

You grab a pillow and start hitting her with it, laughing with her before she finally snatches it from you. You squeal and giggle, begging her to stop, and when she does, she immediately pins you down.

As you catch your breath, you huff out a laugh and she kisses you. “Just think about it,” she murmurs, leaning in close. “Three weeks. No sex. No masturbating–”

“No masturbating?” you cry.

“No masturbating,” she repeats and gives you a pointed look. “But, imagine…in three weeks. The anticipation. The excitement. After all the wedding revelry…getting to fuck you so hard that you almost pass out.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” You look at her, swishing your lips back and forth. “Sure, why not?” She kisses you again and you sigh. “So, no sex. No masturbating. What about making out?”

Agatha sits up, letting go of your hands but still straddling you. Her fingers trail down down your chest and underneath your shirt, nails lightly grazing your torso. “Hmmm…Yes. Making out is allowed. It’ll get us going even more.”

She downs, her grin nothing but sinister as you smile and shake your head, arms wrapping around her. “Oh, you are mean.”

“And you love it,” she murmurs.

“I do,” you sigh, receiving a kiss from her. “I really do.” As the soft kisses grow in intensity, you pull away and narrow your eyes. “So, does this start now, or at midnight?”

With no hesitation, she kisses you again. “Midnight. Absolutely midnight.”

“Oh, good,” you huff. “Let’s go upstairs. Now.”

Agatha stands and takes your hand, running up the stairs as you both laugh. Clothes are discarded on the way to your room–shirts on the stairs, pants and socks in the hallway, a bra here, underwear there. By the time you’re thrown onto the unmade bed, you’re both completely naked.

And by the time you’re done, it’s almost 9pm. You sigh contentedly as Agatha places kisses on your neck. Her weight on top of you is comforting, and your fingers trail up and down her arms as her kisses travel to your lips. 

Agatha lets out a pleased hum and then pulls away, just enough for your noses to brush. “What do you want to do for dinner?” she asks quietly, kissing you again.

“I think we just ate pretty good,” you say, giving her a sly grin. “Ow!” She pinches your hip hard and you laugh. “That hurt! It’s nine o’clock. What’s gonna be open, other than bars?”

Agatha leans over you on her side, resting on her elbow. She’s thinking hard and her hand rests on your torso, thumb stroking the skin softly. “You’re right, this isn’t New York City…”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s a very small town in New Jersey.”

“There’s a Taco Bell twenty minutes away,” she suggests.

You raise an eyebrow. “Taco Bell? Agatha, the last time you had Taco Bell while sober, you said it was gross and way too greasy.”

“No I didn’t!” she scoffs. “I like their…uhh…quesadillas.”

“Alright,” you say, looking at her suspiciously. You kiss her as you sit up and squeeze her hand. “I’ll go get cleaned up.”

The drive to Taco Bell is quiet. Agatha’s hand rests on your thigh as you drive, and when you’re about half-way there, you feel her eyes on you.

You turn your hand to glance at her. “What?” 

“I love you,” she says softly, turning her head to look out the windshield.

You glance at her again as her thumb strokes your thigh. “I love you too,” you mutter, cheeks flushing.

When you arrive at Taco Bell, Agatha groans. “Jesus Christ, why are there so many damn people? Is all of New Jersey here?”

The soft look she gave you in the car was completely gone now. You pull in her close by the waist with a comforting hand on her back as you stand in line. “We can always go through the Drive-Thru.”

“Hell no,” she mutters. “They always rush through and then get our order wrong.”

“It’ll be quicker,” you say. And when she relents, you drag her out of the store and back into the car. The Drive-Thru line isn’t as long as the line inside, and when the girl in the speaker gives you a couple minutes you look at Agatha. “Do you know what you want?”

She huffs, “The chicken bowl–no beans. They can’t screw that up, can they?”

“Be nice,” you hiss. When you get home, food in hand, Agatha goes straight upstairs and you follow.

In bed, with the TV on as background noise, you both eat your late dinner.

“Jen is getting on my last nerve,” Agatha says through a mouthful of food. “I’m this close to uninviting her from the wedding.”

“You’re not uninviting her, Agatha,” you say. “She’s been very helpful with the planning.”

The two of you sit side-by-side in bed with discarded Taco Bell on your nightstand, and your head on her shoulder as you watch TV. You have no idea what she turned on–some random thriller movie, maybe. Your mind wanders to all the years before–the ones you spent with her and the painful ones after you left her, how you met–and there’s one question on your mind.

“Agatha?” you say. “I have no clue how I went this long without asking you, b–”

“Probably because I have my tongue down your throat every opportunity I get,” she grins, eyes still on the TV. 

“Anyway,” you continue. “When I couldn't find you on the Titanic…where were you?”

“Sweetheart, I feel like you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that,” she scoffs, her fingers running through your hair. “If I had known you were a witch too, I would’ve taken you with me. I only knew you for four days, though. I didn’t know if I could trust you. But even if I had asked, I know you would’ve stayed behind to help.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, and she kisses your head. You look up at her with a soft smile, but a teasing look in your eyes. “So, if you weren’t in a lifeboat, that means you were only on the Carpathia–”

“Shut up,” Agatha groans dramatically.

You smile brightly now, moving to straddle her hips. Your arms wrap around her neck and you kiss her. “You were only on the Carpathia because you wanted to make sure I was okay. Four days in and you were already–” “Yes,” she blurts out. “Okay? Yes. Four days in and I already cared about you. You’re not just useful for sex, okay?”

“Oh, how flattering, Miss Harkness,” you swoon before smiling and kissing her. “I still haven’t forgiven you for making me late with Madeleine Astor’s tea.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Agatha pouts, her voice condescending. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

You purse your lips, looking up as if you’re thinking hard. Your fingers trace over her shoulders and slip beneath her robe. Your voice is coy as your other hand plays with her hair, eyes avoiding her gaze. “Well…there’s less than an hour left until midnight, so maybe we can utilize the time wisely…”

Your eyelids flutter open against the morning sun and you groan, rolling over to face Agatha. Your arm drapes over her waist and your legs tangle with hers, and when you open your eyes again she’s still asleep–or so you thought.

Her eyes crack open and she gives you a sleepy smile. “I can feel you staring.”

“This is going to be the longest three weeks of my life,” you mumble before kissing her. You’re already aching after seeing her, and you end up straddling her waist. Placing small kisses on her neck, you groan, “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you’re lying next to me naked, bathed in the morning light?”

You lift your head up and sigh dramatically, completely laying on top of her. Agatha’s voice is hoarse from sleep and her nails run up and down your back soothingly. “Not even ten hours in and you’re already caving.” 

“I’m not caving,” you say. “Just complaining. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. And you’ve had a lot.”

Sunday morning goes by quickly and soon you’re on the road back to the Tower. 

“I wanna stop at the store on the way back,” Agatha says as she merges lanes to take the exit.

You let out an amused hum, not looking up from your phone. “Why? Are you getting a safe for our collection of sex toys?” Agatha doesn’t respond and you look up quickly, jaw dropping. “Oh, my god! Are you actually?” 

“Where else would we put them?” Agatha tries to reason. 

“I–Well…” You really didn’t have a clue. A whole drawer in your dresser is filled with them. And you know that if they’re not locked away, one of you will cave sooner or later. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Inside Walmart, you mosey through an aisle that’s nothing but safes. “This is insane!” you gape. “A whole aisle of nothing but safes?” You lower your voice, leaning in towards Agatha. “Does everyone lock their sex toys away before their wedding?”

“No,” she sighs. “I think we’re the only ones kinky enough to do that.” Her eyes scan the shelves and she reaches for a decent sized box. “What about this one?”

As she looks over the product information on the box, you contemplate it. “I dunno…do you think it’s big enough?”

“Maybe,” Agatha says, looking up from the words to grin. “But if it’s not, I think some toys left out could make it even more enticing.” Her eyes get dark and her voice lowers. “You know how much I love seeing you squirm…”

Your cheeks get hot and your mouth opens to respond, but no words come out. Your jaw stiffens under Agatha’s amused look. “Let’s go,” you say, voice tight as you turn on your heel and walk away quickly.

“Why do you have a safe?”

In the lobby of Stark Tower, Natasha is leaving just as you’re both entering. Without blinking an eye, Agatha shrugs, saying, “No reason,” and keeps walking to the elevator. 

Upstairs, in your shared walk-in closet, Agatha unboxes the safe. 

You’re on your knees and you open the bottom drawer, meeting the numerous amount of sex toys in your collection. You sigh, shoulders drooping as you hand them to Agatha, a few at a time. “This is the most painful thing I’ve ever done.”

“Just think about the finish line,” she says in a sing-song voice, looking back at you with a smile. She pauses, her lips curling into that mischievous grin and her voice lowering into that seductive tone that always drives you crazy. “Oh, look at you…I just love it when you’re on your kne–”

“Stop it!” you cry, hitting her leg with one of the many vibrators in your collection as she laughs.

After a tedious game of Tetris, Agatha cheers. “Look at that! They all fit!” She shuts the safe and a loud beep sounds before the locking mechanism takes place. Agatha turns around, leaning against the dresser the safe is on. “We need to hide this pamphlet. It has the code on it.”

“Well, neither of us should hide it,” you say, standing up. “Then we’d know where it is. That would be cheating.”

She gasps and grins, slinking closer to you with her arms crossed. “You’re such a good girl when y–”

You cover your ears quickly, “La la la! I’m not listening!” You leave the closet and rush out of your bedroom with Agatha hot on your heels and laughing. “You need to stop that! Let’s go find Wanda.”

“Ugh, why Wanda?” Agatha groans as you get on the elevator.

As you press the button for the lounge, you sigh. “Well, she’s one of my closest friends, and I know she won’t ask questions.”

When the elevator doors open to the lounge, there are three other people with Wanda–the worst one being Tony as he narrows his eyes at the way you look nervous.

“What’s up?” he asks as the two of you walk over.

“Nothing!” you answer quickly–too quickly. “Wanda, can we talk with you…in private?”

Wanda looks around, “Um…yeah, I guess.”

The silence in the elevator is thick and awkward. When you arrive on her floor, she opens the door to her bedroom and Agatha wastes no time. “We need you to hide this manual.”

“What?” Agatha hands her the pamphlet and Wanda scrunches her nose, taking it and flipping through it. “Why do you need me to hide a safe manual?”

You and Agatha exchange looks and while she remains stone faced, you can’t help but look sheepish. “I don’t…wanna say,” you mutter.

Wanda narrows her eyes before a look of realization dawns on her, “Is it for–oh, my god. Are you…” She lowers her voice as if anyone would overhear her. “Are you locking up your sex toys?” she asks.

“Yes!” you blurt out, and Agatha rolls her eyes. “Yes, we are–we have. It’s until our wedding.” 

Wanda continues flipping through the manual, “So, is it like, a total sex ban–”

“I thought you said she wouldn’t ask questions,” Agatha says, arms crossed as she turns to you.

Wanda sighs, “Wow, I knew you guys were kinky, but this is–”

“Alright, we’re leaving now!” you pipe, and grab Agatha’s hand to pull her out of the room. “Come on! Let’s go!”

The first week goes by fairly quickly. Many times, you and Agatha found yourselves in petty arguments with each other. And it was even noticed one night at a team dinner.

“Can you pass me the salt?” you ask her, and when she does, she only passes the salt by itself–leaving the pepper by itself. “You didn’t pass the pepper too.”

“You didn’t ask for the pepper,” Agatha says.

“It doesn’t matter,” you argue, dropping your fork on the plate with a clatter.. “The salt and pepper should always stay together!” Multiple team members stop their conversations and turn towards you. “We’ve known each other for 118 years! I’ve told you this so many times!” Your voice starts to rise with each word that follows. “You always keep the troops together!”

And later that night, as if you weren’t just arguing in front of everyone over something so stupid, you find yourself in bed, straddling her lap. Your hands roam one another as you kiss her hard, chests heaving and fingers digging into skin. 

“This is the worst–” You kiss her. “–Fucking idea–” Another kiss. “–You’ve ever had.”

Agatha breathes heavily in your mouth as she chuckles, “Oh, please, you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

She kisses you softly and you shiver beneath her touch. “I need you to touch me,” you breathe. “I need you to touch me so badly.”

Her fingers creep up your thighs and you whimper as she kisses the corner of your mouth. You can practically feel yourself drip into your underwear as you beg under your breath, “Please, please, please…”

Her fingers dip beneath the hem of your pajama pants, very lightly swiping over your underwear. “Ohh…” Her voice is low and raspy. “A little bit of kissing and you’re already this wet. This is so fun.”

Your head drops onto her shoulder as your arms fold in between you and you whine. “This is the worst.” You sit up as she removes her hand, and you huff. But there isn’t anger or frustration in your eyes. No, it’s sadness and desperation, and you pout as she giggles. “This is the absolute worst. I’m going to take a cold shower.” And before Agatha can even speak you glare at her, “And no, you cannot join me.”

And it wasn’t just you that was suffering. 

“Why did I wanna do this?” Agatha groans one night. You’re both in the bathroom doing your nightly routines–only this time, Agatha is standing beside you as you wash your face, ranting about the entire thing with dramatic hand gestures. “This was so stupid! All I want to do is have sex with you, but I can’t!”

“Well, technically–”

“No!” she snaps. “We’re not going to break this streak! We’ve been doing so well.”

You pat your face dry and when those words leave her mouth, you start grinning. You look at her with the soft, pleading eyes that you usually would when begging. 

Agatha looks at you, nostrils flared and her eyes ablaze. “Don’t,” she mutters dangerously.

“Have I been doing good for you, Mommy?” you ask, your voice syrupy sweet as you get closer. “Have I been a good gi-”

“I’m going to start smoking again!” Agatha calls back as she rushes out of the room.

“No, you are not!” you shout, running after hert.

“Yes, I am!”

“Agatha Harkness!” you say, hands on your hips as she lays face down on the bed. “There’s two weeks left! And if I catch you smoking again, I’ll glue myself to your hip so you can’t go anywhere without me!”

When you get a response, Agatha doesn’t lift her head, instead choosing to mumble whatever words into her pillow.

Yes, the first week and a half have been hard, but the second half might as well be torture. 

There are eight days left. Eight. 

You run through every floor in the Tower. You tear apart the entire kitchen, look in every pot and pan, tupperware containers, anywhere that manual could be. You even check in the strangest places–Tony’s lab, every bathroom you have access to, the lobby, you even went into the elevator and removed a panel so you could climb in and see if she hid it there (she didn’t).

In your desperation, you were even searching your own room, hoping that somehow Wanda hid it there. You check in your bedside drawers, in your bathroom cabinets, underneath the clothes in your dressers, and while in the closet you even tried opening the safe with magic.

Now, you’re under your bed, legs sticking out as you search through shoe boxes and plastic bins of out-of-season clothes. 

“Hiya, hon.”

Startled, you crack your head on the boards of the bed frame. “Son of a bitch!” You flip over onto your back and scooch out from under the head. “Hi. I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

Agatha stands over you, head tilted and arms crossed as she looks at you curiously. “Mhm…whatcha doin’?”

“I–Um…” You stand up, rubbing the spot on your head you hit. “Nothing–”

“You were looking for the manual, weren’t you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

You gasp, “No, I was not! How could you accu–yes. I was looking for the manual.” You watch as she shakes her head slowly and grins, and then her tongue pokes into her cheek. You rush forward, voice shaking, “You don’t understand, Agatha.” Your hands grip her shoulders and the desperation in your voice is loud. “I’m ovulating! You know how I get! I tried opening the safe with magic and it didn’t work!”

Agatha nods her head, “I know. I had Wanda put a spell on it when you went out to lunch with Steve and Nat yesterday.”

You whimper, head ducking into her chest as your hands grip her shoulders tighter. “I’m going insane, Aggie!” you cry. 

Agatha takes both of your hands and removes them from her shoulders, placing kisses on both of them. You look up at her with pleading eyes and she giggles. “It’s only for eight more days.”

“I cannot last in these conditions,” you whine. Your hands slip from her grasp and cup her cheeks. You kiss her hard. “I need you to fuck me,” you beg, kissing her again. When you pull away, your teeth are clenched in frustration. “I need you to fuck a baby into me. Ruin me, Agatha. Please!”

Agatha reaches up to hold your wrists and kisses you softly. When she pulls away, she pouts in a condescending way. “Poor thing.” She reaches for your cheek and pats it twice. “You’ll survive.”

She drops her arms and walks past you as your jaw drops. While walking towards the bathroom, her hips swaying more than usual, she looks back at you with dark eyes. “I’m gonna go take a bath if you’d like to join me.”

You close your eyes and sigh before following her, completely defeated. “Okay…”

After that day, you calmed down–until the time to pack for your honeymoon came. After Wanda lifts the spell on the safe, she leaves immediately and Agatha opens it. You almost cry from the sight of your sex toys alone. It’s like you found the world's greatest treasure–like the sinful gates of Heaven were finally opening for you.

Agatha eyes you as she takes them out. “Don’t even think about it.”

“How can I not think about it?” you whine. You stand beside her, fingers trailing over her shoulder and arm as you look up at her with pleading eyes. “Please?” you ask quietly. “You don’t even have to let me finish…I just want to feel th–”

“No.”

“Please, Agatha!” you cry. “It doesn’t even have to be one of the fancy ones! A bullet! A wand! I just need to feel something!”

“Nope.” She doesn’t even look up at you as she opens the suitcase. “Definitely need to take the good strap,” she mumbles to herself. “Baby, which ones do you wanna take?”

“Surprise me,” you scowl, her back still turned to you.

Agatha looks back at you. “Don’t give me that attitude,” she scoffs. “There’s less than 48 hours left, and if you keep this up, it won’t be good for you. Now, pick out your vibrators for our honeymoon, sweetheart.”

The bachelorette party on Friday comes quickly. It’s small, with only seven of you there at your house in Westview. Tony supplied the extensive amount of alcohol while Alice, Jen, and Lilia planned the decorations, and Wanda and Natasha planned the activities. Neither you or Agatha had any part in planning. Your only job is to show up and look pretty–and the two of you do that very well.

You watch Agatha as she gets ready, and when she slips on the dress you chose for her, your jaw drops.

“Close your mouth, darling,” Agatha says, catching your eye in the mirror. “You’ll catch flies.” She turns around and you look her up and down, sighing heavily. She grins, slinging closer towards you. “24 hours, sweetheart. Be patient.”

With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, she slips out of the bathroom. On your shared bed there are two white sashes, both with the word ‘Bride’ on them.

Agatha scrunches her nose up at them. “Do we really have to wear these?”

“Jen and Wanda were very insistent on it,” you say, standing behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist. You let go and pick one of them up, draping over Agatha’s headband adjusting it. “There!” you chirp. “See? You look so cute!”

“It’s tacky,” she deadpans.

“Just wear it,” you say.”It’s just one night, and I’m wearing one too.”

When you get downstairs, you’re met with cheers and party noisemakers. Pink decorations fill the house and Agatha takes a deep breath, looking at you and then back to the coven. “Really? All pink?”

“It’s not a bachelorette party without tacky, pink decorations,” Alice says.

In the living room, you pick up an open bottle of chardonnay, pouring yourself and Agatha a glass. She takes it with a kiss on your cheek and follows you as you sit down on the couch.

Laughter drowns out whatever music is playing. You’re several rounds into a drinking game, giggling into Agatha’s shoulder. “In her defense,” you say, catching your breath, “neither of us knew the other was a witch.”

“She abandoned you on a sinking ship!” Wanda gawks. 

“I would have stayed anyway,” you shrug. “It was my job to help people.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t know you met on the Titanic,” Alice says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Now, it makes sense. They’re trauma bonded.”

Natasha sits up, taking a sip of her drink. “Not to change the subject, but I’ve been meaning to ask you two…” she says. Her eyes narrow with curiosity as she looks at you and Agatha. “Why have you two been so on edge recently? I know you bicker, but it’s been a lot worse.”

Wanda bursts out laughing and you and Agatha make eye contact, trying your best to hold in your giggles as the rest of them exchange weird looks. Your finger traces the rim of your glass and you sigh. “We’ve…been on a three week long sex ban in preparation for tomorrow night.”

Jen chokes on her drink and Nat’s eyes widen.

“You know that safe you saw us carrying?” Agatha grins. “It was for our sex toys.”

“So…” Nat looks around, choosing her words carefully. “You’ve been irritated…because neither of you were getting laid…voluntarily?”

“Yep,” Agatha says simply.

Nat points beside her to Wanda. “And…she was…in on it?”

“Yes,” you chirp. “She hid the safe manual so we couldn’t get the code until last night. Where did you hide it?”

“Oh, I threw it away,” Wanda says.

You sit up quickly. “You threw it away?”

“Yeah.”

“I climbed into the elevator shaft looking for it,” you gawk. “And this whole time, it’s been in a landfill?”

Lilia takes a sip of her wine and leans in toward Jen, her voice quiet, “They are so much worse than we thought.”

As the night progresses and you and Agatha cut yourselves off from drinks, you grow more and more tired–and so does Agatha. As you doze off on her shoulder, she shakes you awake. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

You look at your phone, and when you see it’s almost three in the morning you get up. She takes your hand and when the others see you leaving to go to bed, you get the drunken teasing.

“Big day tomorrow!”

“Harkess needs her beauty sleep!”

In your bedroom, you flop down onto the bed, groaning.

Agatha turns on the bathroom light, retrieving a pack of makeup wipes and returning to your room. “Come on,” she says, straddling your hips and pulling off your fake lashes. “I know you’re sleepy, but you need to take your makeup off.” She brings the cold wipe to your face, rubbing it over your cheeks. And before she removes your eyeshadow, she leans in close, muttering, “Close your eyes.”

She finishes with a kiss to your lips, but you don’t pull away, instead pulling her closer. When she breaks away, she feels your hands sneak under her dress and she giggles, sitting up and sliding off you. “Nice try. You have less than 24 hours.”

You groan again and she hands you a pair of pajamas. You begrudgingly put them on and brush your teeth, and when Agatha’s finished with her nightly routine, she tucks you into bed with a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be in the spare bedroom tonight. I love you.” And with a final kiss on your lips, she shuts off the light and closes the bedroom door.

As tired as you are, sleep doesn’t come easily. But when it does, it leaves you groggy and with cotton mouth when you wake up–or, in this case, are woken up. A loud knock on the door stirs you, and before you can properly wake up, Wanda and Natasha are piling through with breakfast–or brunch–with Tony following behind, holding two bottles of champagne.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. When you tap your phone, the time shows noon. “Jesus, how are you two awake? You were wasted and up longer than I was.”

“It’s your wedding day!” Wanda chirps, handing you a latte that has the logo from your favorite coffee shop on the cup. “Here, we don’t want you being sloppy drunk tonight.”

But beside her, Natasha wears a pair of sunglasses while stirring a bloody mary with a piece of celery. Tony sets down one of the bottles of champagne on your dresser. 

“The car will be here to pick you and Harkness up at three. That’ll give everyone setting up the after-party here enough time before you’re back,” he says. “And I got you two the presidential suite at the Four  Seasons–it’s cute, it overlooks Central Park. It’s like fifteen minutes from LaGuardia so you don’t have to get up too early tomorrow.”

Wanda wiggles her eyebrows at you and you glare at her, mouthing, “Shut up.”

“After the ceremony,” Tony continues, “I’m gonna head over there and check you in. Wanda’s already given me your luggage, so everything’s taken care of.”

When he leaves to relay the same information to Agatha down the hall, Wanda opens the curtains to your room. The light pours in, illuminating the protective bag holding your wedding dress. Your chest flutters thinking about it. 118 years and it’s finally happening–from sinking ships, to wrongful sacrifices, and a test of trust on the Road, you’ve made it out unscathed. You’ve made it out together.

The three hours of showering and hair and makeup go by quickly. You stand before a cheval mirror. The clock on the wall ticks loudly and your eyes drift up to it. Two-forty five.

You take a deep breath, but it’s all so much. Emotions flood your senses, and as you look at yourself, you can’t help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world. Flowers dot your hair, adding a pop of color against the white dress. It’s simple and lightweight, with a square neckline showing off the diamond necklace that Agatha gifted you almost a century ago.

Wanda opens the bedroom door and Natasha followers her out. In the hallway, you can hear Jen, “She’s ready.”

Your heart races.

You hear the sound of heels on the old wooden floors.

“Hi.”

But the anxiety that filled your chest dissipates upon seeing her in the reflection of the cheval mirror. It’s replaced with nothing but anticipation and love, and for a moment you’re brought back to the forward deck of the Carpathia.

You turn around and your breath is taken away when you see her entirely. “Hi.”

Agatha wears a white romper. Beneath the pristine white blazer, the top dips below her chest and a white band separates it from the loose, flowing bottoms. She’s stunning. Absolutely, unequivocally beautiful.

She crosses her arms, leaning against the door frame and grinning. “Well? Give me a twirl, princess.”

Smiling, you give her a slow twirl. Agatha walks over and she stops just short of you. When you’re facing her again, her hands go to your waist, fingers brushing the exposed skin of your back. She looks so up and down, and smiles brightly. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“I want to kiss you so badly,” you breathe, glancing at her lips and back up.

She hums. “Soon, darling.”

Your hand slides into the crook of her elbow and she escorts you out of the room. As you approach the landing of the stairs, the coven, Wanda, and Nat all look up at you in awe.

“Oh, my god!” 

“Look at them!”

“I think I’m gonna cry.”

After rounds of hugs are given, the five of them leave ahead of you just as the car arrives. Agatha helps you in and you slide all the way over. As you look out the window, your hands link in the middle seat and the feeling eases the nervousness in your stomach.

The venue is quaint. You stand side by side with Agatha in a hallway of marble and pastels. Both of you look out the french doors at the guests in the small garden who face away from you. There are barely twenty people, but every single one sitting there has impacted your life in a different way. 

“Any last-minute confessions?” Agatha grins.

“I’ve had three glasses of champagne and I’m starting to feel them,” you whisper, rushing through your words.

“I’ve had four.”

Your eyes close and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank god.” 

Agatha turns to look at you, smiling softly as she adjusts your necklace. “Are you ready?”

As she positions herself by your side, you slide your hand into the crook of her elbow and sigh. “Yeah…you?”

She turns her head, looking down at you, “Since 1912.”

Your head turns quickly to look at her, and you see every ounce of adoration and affection she has for you in her eyes. There’s so much weight in her gaze and you can see every year and every moment you were together–and every moment you were apart. Those 30-odd years hang in the tears she holds back, mingling with the contentment and the happiness that swells in her chest. 

118 years. 43,070 days. 6,152 weeks. 62,062,006 minutes. 3,723,720,336 seconds.

And she would go through them all again.

And so would you.

Your throat tightens and your hand squeezes her arm. You turn your head back towards the door, blinking away tears as the guests stand and the small quartet begins to play. “Okay.”

The french doors leading to the garden open and you’re both bathed in the evening light of sunset. You give her arm one last squeeze, and then with a deep breath, you take the first step.

__________

The car ride back to your home in Westview is less than an hour. With photos and actually signing your marriage license, you’re the final ones to arrive at the reception. When you walk inside, the smell of all different types of food waft in from the kitchen and your stomach growls.

“It’s quiet,” you say.

“Thank god,” Agatha mutters, and you nudge her in the side. “Oh, look, wedding presents!” She practically drags you into the dining room when she sees the pile on the table.

“Come on!” you sigh, and you take her hand. When you open the patio doors and step out in the cool evening air, you’re met with cheering. Out of the corner of your eye you catch Agatha smiling–actually smiling, ear-to-ear.

There’s about twenty more people at the reception than there were at the ceremony. As you look around at your backyard–the decorations, the warm lights, the tables, the firepit–you’re glad Agatha insisted on having the backyard renovated.

Hugs are exchanged all around, and Agatha even tolerates it this time around. When you hand her a glass of champagne, she downs it all almost immediately.

“There’s a lot of people here,” she mutters.

“You don’t have to talk to all of them,” you muse. “But you do have to sign the thank you cards.”

Music blares through the speakers as people dance and drink. At one of the tables, you sit with Agatha, laughing with Lilia and two other guests when Jen comes over and ducks her head to speak to you. “Alice just got back.”

“Where the fuck has she been?” Agatha retorts, the numerous shots she took at ‘shot o’clock’, as Billy called it, in full effect.

“She has 250 jello shots,” Jen says quietly, “and 250 pudding shots.”

“She’s forgiven,” Agatha shrugs.

And sure enough, Alice walks through the back gate carrying a blue cooler. She sets it down beside the table where at least thirty bottles of open liquor and mixers, cans of sodas, water bottles, and a hundred bottles of beer sit in an ice bath. You and Agatha get up immediately, Jen following behind you as you go over to Alice.

“Holy shit!” Agatha beams. “Did you make all of these?”

Alice huffs, hands on her hips. “Yep. I had some help from Jen and Lilia, though.”

Looking through the cooler, there’s an array of jello colors, and all different kinds of pudding flavors. You take a handful of them for yourself and Agatha looks at you, appalled. “You gonna share any of those, hon?”

You look back in the cooler, contemplating it. “Mm…No. You’ve got plenty left, honey.”

With Lilia and the two other women at the table gone, the two of you are by yourself. You try to get each jello and pudding shot down as quickly as possible, but you end up laughing as you swallow a jello shot. You start coughing, tears starting to form in your eyes as you laugh more.

Agatha’s hand comes to your back as you wipe your mouth and take a drink of water. You drunkenly giggle as she opens another jello shot and holds it up to your newly open one. “Here’s to us…” Her eyes get dark and her lips curl into that grin she gives you when only dirty thoughts enter her mind. “...And here’s to what you’ll be choking on later.”

Your cheeks go hot and your eyes are wide as you down the last jello shot.

As the night progresses, it becomes chilly. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as you stand beside Agatha, talking to a few guests. When her hand runs up and down your arm she pauses her words and looks down at you. “Jesus, hon, you’re freezing.”

“No, I’m not!” you protest. “I’m fine!”

“I would be a terrible wife to let you freeze to death at your own wedding,” she huffs. “Here.” She takes her own blazer off and practically forces it on you. It’s just slightly too big on you and she goes behind you, hands rubbing up and down on your arms as she continues talking to the people in front of you.

“This is your favorite song,” she gasps in your ear. “Do you wanna go dance?”

“Sure,” you chirp, letting her drag you to the makeshift dance floor where other people are.

One hand goes to your waist while the other grasps your hand. You smile as you place your hand on her upper back, dancing to the upbeat music. She spins you and holds you tightly, and you can feel her fingers slip underneath the blazer and graze over your exposed back. Her lips brush your ear and her voice is low, “You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you picked out a low-cut back.”

“I knew you’d like it,” you respond, your voice quiet and breathy.

“I don’t just like it, sweetheart,” she hums. “I love it. You know damn well how much I love your back.”

You laugh quietly, shivering beneath her touch as her nails scratch lightly over your back. “You’ll get to see plenty of it after this, I promise.”

Around eleven, with the majority of the party drunk–including you and Agatha–Tony pauses the music, standing up on a chair and hollering. “I want to give a brief toast.” He scratches his eyebrow and raises his glass. “I just want to say an official ‘welcome to the family’ for Agatha, and that anyone who can stay together for 118 years, give or take, is the pinnacle of true love–which is disgustingly sappy, but it’s true. Here’s to the brides and the many more years of happiness to come.”

Midnight is approaching when a small group has the brilliant idea to go to Taco Bell. But Agatha, in her drunken state, has been teasing you all night, and vice versa.

They were only little touches, hands on waists, brushes of fingers on backs, pecks on the lips and cheeks, even those looks across the yard as you talk to talk to someone got to you. And now, every moment of desperation from the past three weeks is catching up with you.

When you decline, you bid everyone goodnight and have Tony call you a car for the forty minute drive to the hotel. With hotel room keys in Agatha’s clutch, you’re almost pushed into the car by her, drunkenly laughing as she follows. You have to cross your legs with how turned on you are. These three weeks have been the most brutal of your life, and to make it worse, Agatha sits beside you in the middle seat and her hand slips underneath the skirt of your dress.

Her fingers trail up your thigh and she leans over, skimming her lips over your neck. You can feel your pulse quicken and whisper under your breath, “Agatha, we are not alone yet.”

“And when has that stopped us before?” she mutters. She removes her lips from her neck and sits back, but her fingers don’t leave. Her eyes watch as you try to focus on the passing scenery outside, but it’s so fucking hard. 

Agatha grins as you lean against the door. Her fingers move higher and higher and she can see you beginning to tremble. She never gives you want, instead opting to tease you just over your white lace panties. She applies just enough pressure for you to gasp and shut your eyes. 

Agatha does this for the entire ride, on and off touches, teasing you mercilessly until you finally pull up to the hotel entrance. After tipping the chauffeur extra, you both stumble out of the car, giggling as you rush into the hotel. Agatha is on top of you as soon the elevator doors close and the 51st floor button is pressed.

“I can’t wait to get you in that fucking room. I’m going to absolutely ruin you,” she huffs into your mouth, hands gripping your waist tightly underneath the blazer you’re still wearing.

When the elevator dings and the doors open on your floor, you’re pushed out with Agatha still flush against you. The door to the suite is slammed shut and Agatha throws the room key and her clutch on the floor before pushing you against the wall.

With her lips on your neck, you open your eyes and catch yourself in the mirror. You’re a complete mess: red lipstick is smeared down your throat, your hair is falling from the pins, and the shoulder of the dress and blazer have fallen down. Your eyes drift to the rest of the room as Agatha bites at your skin and you gasp.

Expensive, plush sofas, and leather armchairs surround a fireplace and a flat screen TV. Behind it, a ten-feet-tall bay window made entirely of glass overlooks Central Park with a breakfast nook, and a glass door next to it leads to one of the outdoor terraces. The floors are deep brown–almost black–made of African wenge and ebony wood. It’s by far the nicest room you’ve ever been in.

“Oh, my god,” you breathe. “Look at this–fucking room.”

Agatha stands up straight, taking your face in her hand and forcing you to look her in the eyes. “We could be in Buckingham fucking Palace right now, and the only thing I’d want to look at is you.”

You glance at her lips and back up at her eyes, sighing. “God, that was so fucking hot.” She kisses you hard and drags her lips down your throat. With your head turned to the side to give her more access, your eyes widen as they land on the grand piano in the center of the room. “Holy shit!” you breathe. “That’s a Steinway!” 

Agatha kisses back up your throat and kisses you softly, hand coming to cup your chin. She makes deep eye contact with you, her voice low and gravelly. “I’ll fuck you on that Steinway if you want, I promise. But for now, I’m going to need you to focus, baby.”

You’re breathless and you nod lightly.

“Can you do that for Mommy?” she asks. Her voice is calm, but the tone and her eyes make you feel like a child being scolded.

“Yes,” you say.

“Yes,” she repeats slowly, and kisses you lightly. “I know you can be good for me.”

You nod again and keep eye contact as she sinks to her knees. Your breathing gets heavier as she bunches your skirt up, having you hold it as she kisses up your thighs and pulls down your underwear. The sound of her moaning at the sight of you alone has you clenching around nothing.

Agatha looks up at you, mouth hovering over your cunt as you tremble. “I’ve fucking missed this pussy,” she moans.

The feeling of her mouth on you again is indescribable. The slightest touch of her tongue against your clit sends you spiraling. And when she slips two fingers inside, you moan and she gasps, eyes peering up at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking wet for me before.”

You can’t even respond as your head falls back onto the wall with a thud. Her fingers and tongue work in tandem, and in less than ten minutes, with one of your legs thrown over her shoulder, you’re shaking uncontrollably.

“Agatha, I–!” You choke on your words, grasping her hair as you lean forward. “I can’t stand–I’m gonna–fuck–I’m gonna fall over–!”

She removes her mouth and fingers from your pussy, and stands up to kiss you. Her hands come to your thighs and lift you easily, her mouth against yours as she carries you across the room. You have no clue where she’s taking you–until there’s a loud, unpleasant sound of piano keys.

When you pull away, you’re exactly where you think–the Steinway piano. Your hand braces yourself on the keys beside you, making another, sharper sound. Your other hand grips her shoulder as she kisses your neck and her fingers slide right back into you. 

Your nails dig into her skin as you gasp, “Oh, my god, you’re fucking me on a Steinway.”

“I am,” she huffs against your lips, grinning as her fingers keep working. “I make good on my promises, don’t I? And I promised to fuck you until you almost pass out.”

You moan loudly into her kiss. The pleasure is so intense–three weeks of nothing is catching up quickly. Your hips start to grind against her hand, and when her palm presses against your clit, tears quickly fill your eyes and you cry out. You sob out incoherent words, your mind melting into nothing but mush as it gets exactly what it wants after three weeks.

Mascara streaks your cheeks as you start trembling beneath her and crying into her mouth. “Oh, my god–! Fuck, Mommy! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes!”

The hand holding your skirt to your hip lets go and grips your jaw. “Open your eyes,” she demands, and you obey. “Look at me.” With her eyes on yours, her face is stone cold and you whimper. “You wanna cum don’t you? I can feel it.” 

You nod and she leans in close, fingers moving faster as you sob. Her voice is stern and has a deep tone of authority to it. “You don’t need permission. Not tonight. I want you to give Mommy every single fucking drop. Do you understand?” You nod quickly and she grips your cheeks tighter. “Ah, ah. No. I need words, baby. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” you sob. “Yes, Mommy! Yes!”

“Good girl!” she praises, voice raising over your cries. “I want you to cum for me now. You can do it! Cum for me!”

You had never felt pleasure like this. The tears, your throat raw from screaming, the feeling of her hands finally on you again, the sound of the piano keys ringing out as your hands find somewhere to be–it’s all so much, and it’s all so good.

Your legs lock around Agatha’s hips as you shake, and she looks down at you like you’re her whole world–and in a way, you are. “There she is!” she smiles. “That’s my good girl!”

Your legs tremble as she fucks you through the aftershocks, clinging to her tightly as you catch your breath. Her lips press hard against yours and each kiss gets lighter and lighter until they’re barely brushing against yours. 

“I think–that was–” You take a deep breath and she kisses you again. “–the best–orgasm–you have ever fucking given me.”

You both laugh into each other’s mouths, kissing softly as you carefully step down from your seated position on the piano keys. As she walks you backwards, her hands strip you of her blazer, tossing it aside on a leather armchair and starting to unbutton the back of your dress. 

“Why are these buttons so fucking small?” she seethes.

You can feel her struggling and giggle against her, “Getting frustrated, Mrs. Harkness?”

“If you didn’t look so damn good in this dress, I’d rip it right off of you,” she huffs.

You almost fall through the bedroom door when she opens it. You stop to shrug off your dress and remove your heels and necklace. And when you toss everything aside, you practically jump on her. She squeals into the kiss, both of you giggling as she backs you against the bed and pushes you down onto the mattress. 

When Agatha stands, she hovers over you, running her hands over the lace of your lingerie top. She groans, devouring you with her eyes, “Fuck, look at you. You’re irresistible.”

She slips off her heels and slots her knee in between your legs, leaning down to kiss you hard. Her hands reach around her back, trying to undo the zipper on her romper. She pulls away from the kiss, frustrated. “Dammit!” Her arms contort at different angles as you start laughing. “Can you help me, please?”

She turns around to let you unzip her but you struggle. “I think it’s stuck.

“Well, pull harder,” Agatha huffs.

“It’s still not–” You pull the zipper harder. “Come on–There!”

Agatha quickly pulls off the romper and unclips her bra, tossing it aside somewhere along with her underwear. Anticipation bubbles up through laughter as you move further up the bed on your hands and knees. Right as you make it to the pillows, her hand grabs your ankle and you squeal, giggling as you fall to your stomach. 

When you flip yourself over, Agatha is slowly crawling towards you. Her kisses drift from your calves, up to your thighs, and stop at the apex. She drags her tongue through your folds, up your mound and over your navel, all the way up past your sternum, up your throat, and stopping in your mouth. You moan when you taste yourself on her tongue, hips lifting to seek any amount of friction.

“You are insatiable,” she muses.

“We’ve been refraining from sex for the past three weeks,” you say, hands on her cheeks. “I want you to fuck me on every surface in this suite.”

Agatha kisses you before getting out of bed. Your luggage sits in the corner and she crouches down, digging through clothes before she finds one of the wand vibrators. She stays for just a few seconds longer, and when she turns around, there’s a strip of black satin dangling from her fingers. 

She comes closer and closer, each step slow and sensual. There’s a knowing smirk on her face–the one that reads: ‘You’re about to receive the best fucking of your life.�� And when she gets back into bed, she leans in close, her voice soft. “Color?”

“Green,” you breathe

Agatha kisses you softly and looks deep in your eyes, her look more sober now. “If any of this gets too much, use your safeword. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I love you,” she says, kissing you again before setting the vibrator down and straightening the piece of fabric. Her voice is soft but commanding, and it sends a chill down your spine. “Sit up.”

You obey, like you always do–mostly–and she leans in with the satin, placing it over your eyes and tying it in the back. She guides you back down onto the pillows and leaves you with a kiss on your forehead. You’re shaking now from the anticipation of it all and her hands slide down your ribs and over your torso. 

“You’re trembling,” she says. “Take a deep breath. Relax.” You do and she lets out a satisfied hum. “Good girl.”

Your skin feels like it's on fire as Agatha’s hands go over every inch. Her fingers trace up and down your sternum before untying the front of your lingerie and letting it fall open. 

“Oh, yes,” she breathes. “Gods, you are fucking beautiful.”

Her fingers graze over your nipples and you arch your back into her touch. She chuckles and sits up, reaching for the vibrator before opening your legs wide. All of your senses are magnified. Your ears listen for every sound–the rustling of the duvet, the sound of her breathing, and now, the sound of the vibrator buzzing.

You take a deep breath and when you exhale it comes out as a moan. The vibrator is pressed to your clit. You arch your back, grasping at the pillow beneath your head, and then you feel her situate herself on top of you. 

Agatha lets out a deep breath as you feel her own weight press the vibrator harder onto you. “Hold this,” she says, and takes your left hand, forcing the wand into it. Her own left hand clasps your right, pinning it above your head as she rocks her hips and steadies herself over your throat.

She squeezes lightly, leaning in close enough that you’re huffing into each other’s mouths. She reaches down and turns the vibrations up, and when you whine, she smiles. Her hand goes to your forehead, pushing back the stray hair that clings to your skin. “I know, baby,” she coos. “But you look so fucking pretty like this.”

You match her pace, grinding against the vibrator and holding onto her hand tightly. You wish you could see Agatha like this–how her hair gets frizzy in the heat, the feral look in her eyes when you’re shaking beneath her. You cry out as you feel her starting to tremble above you, moans becoming louder with yours.

Convulsing beneath her, she’s breathless as she holds you down by your chest. “Keep it right there,” she huffs.  “Mommy wants to cum all over you.”

The overstimulation of the vibrator on you is quickly becoming too much, but just enough to start becoming pleasurable again. Your hips start rocking against it again and she huffs out a lugh. “Are you gonna cum again?”

“Yes!” you sob.

She smiles, panting above you. “Do you wanna cum with Mommy?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes yes! Please, Mommy!”

Your nails leave indents in the back of her hand as she raises her voice, her praises stern and authoritative. “That’s it, baby! Come on! Cum with Mommy!”

You finish for a third time, tears running down your temples and soaking the blindfold as Agatha collapses on top of you. With the vibrator off and her hand still in yours, you lay there with her on top of you, both of you catching your breath. 

When your breath returns, you slowly feel the kisses on your neck begin again. Her tongue drags up the side of your neck and back to your mouth. With the blindfold still on, she sits you up, holding you against her tightly. 

Your hands wander down Agatha’s body, grabbing at her skin blindly until your fingers find her clit and circle it slowly. She sighs into the kiss and your fingers slip inside her, slowly curling until they come to a steady rhythm. Her hips move with your fingers, forehead against yours as she moans into your mouth. 

“Keep going,” she huffs. “You’re doing so fucking good for Mommy.”

It doesn’t take long for her to finish, almost screaming your name as she gushes in your hand, trembling against you. Agatha kisses you hard and pushes you back down onto the pillows. 

“I was gonna save this for when we get to the Maldives,” she sighs, getting out of bed and going over to the suitcase. “But you’ve just been so good for me these past few weeks” She looks over her shoulder at you, catching you tilting your head back to peek through the blindfold. “Ah, ah! No peeking! Bad girls don’t get rewards.”

You groan, relaxing back into the bed. Your ears tune into the sounds of clicking and straps adjusting, and your heart races knowing exactly what’s coming. Hands run over the inside of your thighs, parting them wide. 

“You’ve been so good for me,” Agatha drawls. “I know these past few weeks have been hard, but I’m so proud of you.” You feel yourself clench and she chuckles. She lowers herself over you as she continues speaking, her words soft, “You didn’t touch yourself once–as far as I know. But you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” You nod quickly. “That’s right. You are. And what do good girls get?” You don’t respond to her and she sits up, nails lightly trailing down your chest. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“They get rewards,” you say.

“That’s right, they do,” she mutters. “And that’s exactly what you’ll be getting.”

Your mouth opens in a silent gasp when the strap enters you. Agatha’s thumb circles your clit as she slowly thrusts in. “Since you’re blindfolded,” she says, “I think it would be best if you felt me fucking you–considering you can’t see it.”

She reaches for both of your wrists, pulling them down and pinning your hands on your lower abdomen. “I want you to feel me fucking you,” she says, tightening her hold on your wrists as she thrusts hard. “Feel how big my cock is?” 

You cry out in response as you feel the strap bulge under your hands. She bites her lip, thrusting harder. “It’s all for you, sweetheart. I want you to feel me cum inside you. I want you to feel me fuck a baby into you. And you’re gonna take it all, just like the good girl I know you are.”

She speeds up, your legs trembling as she pulls herself forward by your wrists. You’re crying–blubbering, and it’s pathetic. 

“Fuck, yes!” you sob. “Fuck a baby into me, Mommy, please! I want you to cum inside me.”

“Touch yourself,” she huffs, dragging your hands down further. You can feel the strap even more now, sobbing as your fingers circle your clit. She moans at the sight, “That’s my good girl. Keep touching yourself, baby.”

Nothing you have ever felt could compare to this. You’re choking on air from how good it feels. Tears are soaking the blindfold. You can’t see anything, but you can feel everything. Agatha’s tight grip on your wrists, the cock poking through and hitting your hands, your own fingers touching yourself, and Agatha’s hips slamming against yours. You’re almost drooling, and the only words you can mumble are, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“Do you want Mommy to cum inside you?” she says, breathless. 

You can feel the cock twitch inside you and you sob, “Yes! Yes, cum inside me, Mommy, please!”

Your back arches and you’re screaming–you’re actually screaming now–as you start shaking. Your fingers circle faster, even as you go lightheaded, completely blinded by the pleasure.

Agatha’s thrusts become sporadic and messy. “That’s it, keep touching yourself. Mommy’s gonna cum inside this–fuck–this perfect fucking pussy.”

You feel her tremble, you feel the warmth, and you’re too spent to move. You lay there, catching your breath, eyes closed. After she pulls out, she tosses the strap off the bed and pulls the blindfold over your head.

Agatha’s hand brushes over your cheek. “Sweetheart?” she mutters. Your eyes open, adjusting to the light, and you catch her smiling softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I’m–you really weren’t joking when you said you’d fuck me until I almost pass out.”

She chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I told you. I make good on my promises.”

She lays down beside you, arm wrapped around you as your head rests on her shoulder. Her fingers trail up and down your arm and she turns her head to look at you. “So was it worth it?”

You hold your left hand up in the warm lamp light, watching as it reflects off the diamond of your engagement ring and the silver of your wedding band. You turn on your side and curl into Agatha. And as you lay soft kisses on her lips you mutter, “Oh, absolutely, Mrs. Harkness…Absolutely.”

[taevescence]

Valentine's Day Special Event

To celebrate this February 14th I have decided to make a small event for all of you!!! The rules are simple, you will go through four stations where you must put together your request as follows: First station - member: Choose the member you want the request from (only one!) Second station - gender: Choose a phrase you want to appear in the request (maximum 3!) Third station -AU Fourth station - Trope The event will be open until February 28th and requests will be published in order starting in March (those containing NSFW content may take longer than others).

If you want to participate or use this there is no problem, you can use it!!! (Although credit would be appreciated 🙂‍↕️) Special thanks to the creators of the prompts: @dumplingsjinson @me-writes-prompts and @nightprompts <3

➤ Choose your partner;

⁠❥ Kim Seokjin

⁠❥ Min Yoongi

⁠❥ Jung Hoseok

⁠❥ Kim Namjoon

⁠❥ Park Jimin

⁠❥ Kim Taehyung

⁠❥ Jeon Jungkook

➤ Choose your chocolate savor;

❥ Dark Chocolate (Smut):

❛ you can't expect me to do all the work. i want to see what that pretty mouth of yours can do. ❜

❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜

❛ do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜

❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜

❛ you can call me whatever you want, baby. ❜

❛ we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us? ❜

❛ your body was made for mine. ❜

❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜

❛ you want gentle? wrong fucking address. ❜

❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

❛ it's my thigh or nothing. i'm not helping you get off. ❜

❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜

❛ i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now. ❜

❛ now, i'll ask again, are you going to be good for me? ❜

❛ we both know how much you're going to enjoy this. ❜

❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜

❥ Chocolate (Angst):

"It's not you...it's me. I can't stop loving you."

"If I knew loving someone would hurt so much, I still would've loved you."

"I'm tired of being the only one who loves you. I need you to love yourself first."

"This is not the version of you I fell in love with. And honestly, I've forgotten the real you."

"Is it so hard to believe I've stopped loving you?"

"I can't live without you. I can't love without you. I need you, by my side, always did and always will." "You'll be okay. I know you will."

"It's not okay to just leave me here, after telling me you love me back." "We can't- we'll never be together."

"So you choose them over me? After all we've been through together, you choose them?"

"I'm forbidden to love you. I'm forbidden to be with you. So, what am I to do if not fall on my knees and beg for you to stay?"

"It's truly funny...how you can't choose who you want to be in love with. I didn't choose to be in love with you. It just happened, and I wish it didn't."

Walking in rain to their house just to find that they're no longer there.

"You can't go. You cannot leave me here. You promised we'll be together forever."

Playing the song they always sang together to, and just crying.

"It'll never be the same between us. We'll never be the same."

"Your silence speaks more than you ever have. And, I'm not sure why it took so long for me to notice."

"You've drifted so far away from my side that I can no longer reach for your hand and guide you back to me."

"I can no longer recognize you. And that's not even the saddest part. It's the fact that you no longer make any attempt to make me understand you."

❥ White Chocolate (Fluff):

“I see such a vivid picture of us in the future, and it’s looking so amazing.” 

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but that doesn’t mean I regret it one bit.” 

“You make me a better person, love, and I hope you know most of this character development is because of you.” 

“Sweetheart, you’re tired. Go to sleep; I’ll still be here in the morning.” 

“I’m yours in this eternity, and in any and every other eternities which may lay ahead of us. I’ll always find my way back to you, no matter what.”

“Everyday I fall for you all over again and I find that to be pretty neat.”

“We don’t need a ring on my finger for us to know I’m yours forever.” 

“I gave you one hundred and one reasons to walk away, yet you never did. Why?” “Because I love you. It’s really that simple.”

“Remember when we first met here?” “Yeah, of course. That was the day when you spilled coffee on me and apologised profusely but all I could think about was how gorgeous you are and how great it would have been to get your number.”

“It’s always been you, and it will always be you. Please never forget that.”

“You make me feel all soft and mushy inside.” “That is a good thing, right?” “Of course! You melt me, love.”

“You’re an idiot.” “Well, at least I’m your idiot, right?”

“You’re the reason why I believe in love, you know?”

“Stop back-hugging me while I’m trying to cook! You’re distracting me,”

“C’mere and rest next to me. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

“You feeling any better?” “So much better now that you’re here. I love you".

“You always manage to make me feel like I’m worth it.” “That’s because you are worth it. You’ll always be worth it in my eyes.”

➤ Choose your bouquet;

❥ Tulip: College AU

❥ Rose: Royalty AU

❥ Lavender: CEO AU

❥ Jasmine: Artist AU

❥ Marigold: Celebrity AU

❥ Hyacinth: Coworkers AU

❥ Lotus: Florist AU

❥ Lily: Bad Boy AU

❥ Cherry Blossom: Coffee Shop AU

➤ Choose your date;

❥ Drive-in-movie: Second Chance

❥ Night Walk: Arranged Marriage

❥ Picnic Date: Friends To Lovers

❥ Bowling: Enemies To Lovers

❥ Karaoke Night: Roomates

❥ Dance Night: Established Relationship

❥ Amusement Parks: Body Swap

❥ Museum: Only One Bed

[companion-showdown]

Showdown 2k25 - Submit Propaganda

Just like last year I want to kick January off with a flat popularity contest, showdown 2k25. (<- I wrote that in December before my laptop packed up, it'll now be after whenever I manage to get my laptop fixed) -

Laptop situation sorted: Start date 24th March 2024

Automatically competing - everyone from last year (list), with the following exceptions

Last years winner - Donna Noble

Rose Tyler as the 2023 winner, not going to start reintroducing winners at least until a non RTD companion wins, and I reckon that'll be next year, I think Martha is going to take this one

The TARDIS. I get it, it goes against my every instinct to exclude her, and while she didn't win the popularity contest I did include her in, it just doesn't feel fair, she transcends compaiondom.

Rules for new nominees (tardis wiki list referenced below)

Anyone on the list will automatically be accepted

TV companions MUST be on the list

EU companions not on the list will be considered on a case by case basis. If they meet a reasonable definition of companion I will accept them, basic guideline is has their own tardis wiki article so I can actually check, multiple stories with the Doctor, none of these guidelines are hard rules, if you can justify them to me (and I can follow the argument), I'll let them in

Propaganda is not carrying over from last year, if you want to go to bat for someone, use this same form - (There isn't a lot at the moment so more would be appreciated, you can check the list under the cut for who hasn't got any if you want, but multiple sets for one character is also good)

You can use this form to make multiple nominations/give multiple bits of propaganda at once.

Propaganda submissions will not close at any point. Nominations will likely close at the end of February/beginning of March, I'll give a definitive date once I have access to my laptop again. DATE: 24th March

list of (167) competitors, anyone in green has propaganda submitted for them (48 - that is about 29% so keep them coming) - I will endeavour to keep this list up to date, although it may not be completely perfect, if you think I am missing your submission let me know

Classic Who

Barbara Wright

Ian Chesterton

Susan Foreman

Vicki Pallister

Steven Taylor

Katarina

Sara Kingdom

Bret Vyon

Dodo Chaplet

Ben Jackson

Polly Wright

Jamie McCrimmon (propaganda x2)

Victoria Waterfield

Zoe Heriot (propaganda x2)

The Brigadier

Sergeant Benton

Liz Shaw

Mike Yates

Jo Grant

Sarah Jane Smith

Harry Sullivan

Leela

K9

Romana I

Romana II

Adric

Nyssa

Tegan Jovanka

Kamelion

Vislor Turlough (x2)

Peri Brown

Sabalom Glitz

Mel Bush

Ace McShane

Chang Lee

Grace Holloway

NuWho

Mickey Smith

Adam Mitchell

Jack Harkness

Martha Jones

Wilfred Mott

River Song

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

Canton Everette Delaware III

Kate Stewart

Clara Oswald

Handles

Missy

Nardole

Grant Gordon

Bill Potts

Graham O'Brien

Ryan Sinclair

Yasmin Khan

Dan Lewis

Karvanista

Inston-Vee Vinder

Rose Noble

Ruby Sunday

Audio

Oliver Harper

Erimem

Antranak

Iris Wildthyme

Evelyn Smythe

Hex Schofield

Mags

Alex Campbell

Bliss

Tamsin Drew

C'rizz

Cass Fermazzi

Charley Pollard

Helen Sinclair

Liv Chenka

Lucie Miller

Molly O'Sullivan

Narvin

Sheena (The Starship of Theseus)

Tania Bell

Anya Kingdom

Mark Seven

Valarie Lockwood

Novels

The Mortimer Family

Serena

Milena

Business Woman (Time on a Vine)

Bernice Summerfield

Cat Broome

Chris Cwej

Roz Forrester

Wolsey the Cat

Anji Kapoor

Claudia Marwood

Compassion

Fitz Kreiner

Hector (All Flesh is Grass)

Marie (Alien Bodies)

Sam Jones

Trix MacMillan

Ikalla

Rosie Taylor

Jack McSpringheel

Peter Summerfield

Ruth Leonidas

Dorothy (The Wonderful Doctor of Oz)

Sibling Different

Cinder

Anna (Good Companions)

Badger

Barusa

Guinevere Winchester

Irving Braxiatel

Larna

Patience

Penelope Gate

Zeleekhà

Comics

Duh

Gillian & John Who

Dave Lester

Sharon Davies

Gus Goodman

Maxwell Edison

Shayde

Frobisher

Ly-Chee the Wise

Olla

Chantir

Destrii

Fey Truscott-Sade

Izzy Sinclair

Kroton

Ssard

Josie Day

Cindy Wu

Gabby Gonzalez

Grayla

Jayne Kadett

Majenta Pryce

Rose-the-Cat

Alice Obiefune

Abslom Daak, Dalek Killer

John Jones

ARC

Hattie Munroe

Weeping Angel (Origins)

Child Master (The Then and the Now)

The Squire

Real Life

Alan Turing

Claudia Winkleman

John Lennon

Jules Verne

Mary Shelley

Peter Cushing

Other

Alison Cheney

Shalka!Master

Andy Davidson

Antimony (Death Comes to Time)

Brian the Ood

Dormouse (The Red and the Blue)

Emma (curse of fatal death)

Koschie

Romana (Battle for the Universe)

Splinx

Susan Who

Tom Campbell

[evanpeterspeter]

AN: In celebration of me being on my period, (yay being a woman..) I figured, why not there be head cannons of the Evan’s response to you being on that time of the month. It’s something small but why not. Theres also a little bit of NSFW, so fair warning.

Ps. It is my birthday today 😽🫶

TW: Blood, NSFW, oral, fingering, unprotected p in v and stuff

———————————————————————————

Tate Langdon

———————————

Tate would set up a heating pad for you and

Grab you your favorite book to read

.

Play your favorite music and rest his head on your lower stomach, in hopes the weight of him might help the cramps.

.

Would pepper kisses everywhere to help distract the pain

.

He would sit criss crossed on the bed facing you and will rub your clit to help ease the pain, until you finish

Kit Walker

——————————

Kit would kiss your lower stomach and give you a deep massage where your uterus lays

.

Would buy you chocolate and your favorite desserts

.

Would do all the house work and chores for you, whilst you get plenty of rest (He'll be wearing your frilly apron while doing all the work)

.

He would dick you down so good, it'll cure those cramps by how deep he hits in you, completely bottoming himself out

Kyle Spencer

—————————

Kyle would take you out for a nice dinner

.

He would take you shopping and even surprise you with flowers

.

He doesn't know what exactly the difference is between pads and tampons, so he buys them both.

.

He is very respectful when it comes to sex on your period and no matter how horny he is, he'll always respect your boundaries. Which turns you on.. so now you guys are going missionary

Jimmy Darling

———————————

Jimmy would take care of you like as if you were sick

.

His mom would also make you some soup and home baked buttered bread, then he would hand feed you

.

He'd make sure that nothing and nobody would bother you

.

Would finger fuck you so hard, that your legs would shake and quiver afterwards.

James Patrick March

——————————————

James would make everything romantic no matter what

.

Would set up a warm bubble bath with candles, with rose petals on the surface of the water and with a glass of wine on the side

.

Would pamper you and caress you up and down, leaving kisses and love bites all over

.

Would kiss up your thighs and eat you out. Even when it's all a bloody mess, he loves the taste. Especially since it's you

Kai Anderson

——————————

Kai isn't really the kind to pamper you. He thinks it's being vulnerable

.

You're only allowed to skip one meeting for cramps/major discomfort, but you would have to make it up to him later

.

He also gets irritated when you're PMSing, but will soon apologize, not by words but by showing physical touch, such as in hugging behind you, nuzzling your neck and much more

.

Kai's idea of curing your cramps is to fuck you with a vibrator hard and fast. Your whole body and core will be shaking after, and once you finish he'll rail you to the bed. No protection, no towel, he'll leave the blood everywhere to show what mess he created from you

Warren Lipka

——————————

Warren would let you lay in his flannel and will spoon you in bed, placing his warm hands over your lower belly to cradle

.

He would pass you a blunt to ease the pain and to help you relax

.

He's too lazy to cook, so he'll probably make you a bowl of cereal

.

He would let you ride him all much as you wanted. Until of course when he finishes in you.

Peter Maximoff

——————————

Peter would do anything for you, no matter how crazy the request might be

.

Would "buy" you junk food in seconds

.

He would let you sit on his lap while you play one of his video games on the tv, while rubbing your lower tummy in a circular motion

.

Sure he's fast, but you don't know fast until he finger fucks you and using his other hand to rub your tender aching clit like a vibrator

———————————————————————————

Tag list: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife

[btswithluv13]

Two Friends

bestfriend!Jungkook x fem!Reader

[fluff, angst, ongoing series]

teaser: Friends, just for now? 

warnings: alcohol, language, infidelity (kinda?)

recommended songs: Sparks - Coldplay // Night Bus - Gabrielle Alpin // Clementine - Wet

Note: I have been sitting on this for a while and originally wanted this to be a one-shot. It’s heavily heavily inspired by Love, Rosie so please be warned, it’s going to be angsty. Not sure how many chapters this will be but I have Chapter 2 ready to go after some editing and Chapter 3 in the works soooo, please look forward to it :D 

Chapter 1 - A Toast to the Bride and Groom

wc: 920

You've dreamt about this day, fantasized about it even. The wedding hall was beautifully decorated with carefully curated and meticulously placed flowers and soft warm lights illuminating the space. You take a minute to look around taking everything in and thinking how surreal this all feels. The pianist starts to play a melodious song making the atmosphere even more romantic. In just a few moments, everything's going to be different. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to control your nerves.

Jungkook stood by the altar waiting. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with his hair slicked back. It’s so different from his usual casual attire but still he is as handsome as ever. He looked nervous as he started scanning through the crowd. His eyes land on you and his expression eases as you offer him a gentle smile. You’ve always been each other’s safe place. 

You can't help but think about how much you and him have grown. It feels like yesterday when you and him met in middle school. You remember how he looked with his bangs covering his doe like eyes and how much he hated it when people would take notice.

You both kept to yourselves and so you hadn’t really talked to him before until some dumb kids started messing with you causing you to trip and drop the things you were carrying. Of course, Jungkook happened to be there at the right time. You thought he’d join in on teasing but instead, he silently helped you pick up your things and from then on you decided he was someone who had to be in your life.

You were happy… at least that’s what you tell yourself as The Wedding March starts to play and the bride makes her way to the altar to join Jungkook. There's a pang in your heart as you think about how things could've been.

In another life it would've been you standing beside him. It would've been you he was looking at with stars in his eyes, saying his vows and declaring his love to. Except it isn't and you thought you made peace with it. You told yourself It would be alright, at least Jungkook would still be in your life. At least, his soon-to-be-wife was nice... You tell yourself you'd be fine, you’d repeat it to yourself again and again until it would be true.

The ceremony goes by in a blur and it was finally time for the speeches. Of course you were going to speak, it’s your best friend’s wedding. Just get through it, it'll all be over soon. Your grip on the mic tightens as you prepare. There's a lump in your throat now and you try your best to swallow it down along with all the brimming emotions.

“Good evening everyone… first of all congratulations to both of you!” You tried your best to sound cheerful, your smile not quite meeting your eyes. “For those who don’t know me, I’m ___ and I’ve known Jungkook all my life and because I’ve known him all my life I feel compelled to warn you all. Please don't let Jungkook grab a hold of the mic! He will not stop singing, trust me I learned this the hard way.” Earning a light laugh from the audience and a playful glare from Jungkook, you continue.

“I am so lucky to get to know someone who shines as bright as Jungkook and everyone who has had the chance to bask in his light would know just how special he is. I’ve always thought that Jungkook’s bowl grew to hold more capacity throughout the years but it turns out, I underestimated just how much it would take to fill it…”

You look at him fully now, both your gazes unwavering. “and so as I have come to learn just how much kindness and love his heart has to give, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to give it back. I will always support you and your decisions. I love you, Jungkook.” There’s an expression on his face now that you can’t quite read. You wonder if you’re overdoing it, if the audience can sense the storm of emotions brewing inside you and the true intentions of your words… your feelings. You clear your throat.

“...like a sister loves a brother and so I'm glad he has you now,” Glancing at his wife. “To fill in his bowl.” Your voice falters a bit and not trusting your composure you end the speech by giving a toast to the bride and the groom. The crowd gives an applause and you see Jungkook mouth you a thank you as he wipes a lone tear from his face. You nod at him, tears also threatening to spill but you hold it in. It's done. The hardest part of this night was over and you feel the tension in your body ease up a bit. 

The night continues on with festivities and you decide to step outside for some fresh air. The moon's glow accompanies you as you reflect on what you were feeling. You've dreamt about this day, fantasized about it even… but that's the problem about dreaming, it's never going to be your reality if you don't act upon it. You love Jungkook and if you were brave enough maybe things would’ve been different. You come to the conclusion that sometimes loving someone means loving them enough to let them go. You'll be alright, you think this time, it's true. 

[the-nyanguard-party]

You harp on and on about "material reality" this and that, and then turn around and ask why the """yanquis""" don't just overthrow the government when the reality is that most of them are not in a position to do that at all. It's like you're expecting this people's march on the capital, but really all it'll be if it even happens is a left-wing version of January 6th. Not to mention the arsenal of Damacles hanging over every American's head in the form of threat of imprisonment, threat of debt, threat of death, threat of social exclusion, etc, etc, etc. Life is already hard enough for the people of this country, as impossible as it is for people like you to believe it. Don't heap more expectations onto them on top of everything else. We didn't ask to be born here, we didn't ask for our country to be the Great Satan that it is, and we certainly did not ask for our lives to be reduced to simplistic routines of home/work/vote in November.

And before you just choose to write up a snarky little comment about it, I don't expect Argentinians to "just" overthrow their government, either. I don't expect the people of any country to "just" be able to do that. I know it's a tall order no matter where you are, and every time it does manage to happen it is through a coordinated effort of some very capable people.

But at the same time, I'm not just going to sit here and read post after post of your takes that imply the American people are directly responsible for what their government does between takes that state that the American government has no incentive to listen at all. I don't care if you think a poor person in America holds more power than someone living in the third world, that they ""benefit from imperialism""", because that's so obviously wrong. Thinking like that is motivated by a desire to dehumanize innocent people in response to what their government does to innocents in other countries, and I'm going to call that out whenever I see it.

love the scare quotes around "yanqui." gotta make sure they know you don't respect the spanish language. since it makes you so mad i think i'm going to go ahead and use it as much as i can

the funny thing is the post that has you so mad was about a yanqui being mad that yanquis were being asked to be more anti-war. nobody was expecting yanquis to even start a civil war in the US but that was too much for yanquis. people in conditions of oppression unimaginable to yanquis have toppled empires

personally i don't expect anything of yanquis. as far as i'm concerned yanquis are never going to contribute anything to the communist and anti-imperialist movement until your empire is well into its downfall. feel free to prove me wrong, i'd love that

but thanks for all of this. you seem to have some very strong convictions about how random south americans are Dehumanizing yanquis on tumblr.com and this is a serious issue. maybe you should feel the same about your country's imperialism and go do something about it instead of bothering me, yanqui

[potato-frenzy]

Strongly considering writing this Jayvik AU that has rather taken on a life of it's own in my head. I call it the Teen Pregnancy AU, on account of it involves Jayce meeting Viktor when they're sixteen and seventeen respectively and promptly knocking him up.

There's some variations on it, there's the biblically accurate one that that i haven't fully worked out the logistics of. But the one I most often think about is the version where Viktor was found by Vander after running away from Singed. Immediately brought home to a very confused Silco and they start their parenting journey much sooner.

Anyway, basically Jayce gets talk into going into the undercity by some shithead classmates because they serve you regardless of age if you have coin. Vander is watering down bozos drinks but they get rowdy anyway and Jayce breaks it up. That gets Vander's respect and he gives him the good stuff as a nod. So Jayce is tipsy when he sees Viktor doing some busy work across the bar. He marches his awkward ass over and asks to kiss him before he's even gotten a name and Viktor is too charmed by this beautiful boy to say no. Viktor drags his ass up to Vander's office and they end up screwing like bunnies before Jayce is badgered into going home by his 'friends'.

Viktor thinks little of the encounter save for it being a great lay despite the alcohol. That is until he's puking his guts out at all hours of the day almost two months later for no reason. And he doesn't think deeply about it because he's usually getting sick but food starts to smell/taste weird and the crying fits start. Vi and Powder are around seven and four at this point so Vander and Silco know a thing or two about small children and pregnant people. Their trans son is struggling though so they discuss options and Viktor decides to keep it, despite knowing how hard it'll be.

The pregnancy is hell and probably accelerates some underlying medical complications but he manages to have an otherwise healthy baby girl. Healthy apart from being born blind. Viktor pushes through, determined to make a good life for his daughter. He names her Ninati and she's a few months old when he gets into the academy. Vander makes sure there's enough community around Viktor to make sure he can pursue his path. If anyone can climb out on brains alone it's his twiggy genius.

And Viktor does it, he gets through school and establishes himself in Piltover. He has an apartment and childcare figured out by the time the day of ash happens. He's twenty and has to find out that one of his parents is missing and the girls who were basically his sisters are now orphaned and under Vander's care. Viktor considers quitting and moving back to help but Vander tells him to stay where he is because he's got a chance up there.

It's five years of raising his daughter, all the challenges a disabled child on top of your own disability. Occasionally crossing the bridge to bring some spare groceries and treats for the kids. Who now number four instead of just two. It may be unsatisfying and nothing close to the path he was aiming for when it came to being a scientist.

But one day Heimerdinger tells him there's been an explosion and he gives him a list to supervise the removal of dangerous materials. So he goes, thinking it'll be a late night but not a hard one. And then he walks into that workshop and sees the father of his child is the one responsible and concussed. He stays professional and tries not to let some old feelings come creeping in. Of course all that is quickly unimportant when he sees the theorems written on the bored and the wild equipment scattered around.

He's intrigued and drawn to this man for reasons now wholly unconnected to the seven year old that he had asked a colleague to watch for him. He watches the trial, curiosity growing by the moment, he looks at the man's notes and is captivated.

Viktor stays calm and collected the whole evening, through talking Jayce off that ledge and the poor man finally recognizing him. The hours they spend on the theory, working out the kinks, he doesn't bring up that they have a child. Jayce does comment on the bedroom line when they break into the office and he can't deny the attraction is still there.

They make magic. Actual magic and they're promised a chance to prove that this technology is worth the risk. Viktor's cane was used to barricade the door so he asks Jayce to help him get home. They're riding high on adrenaline and success and Viktor invites him inside. The colleague is sent home and promised muffins for the trouble.

Jayce is confused about that, he was so swept up the whole evening. The most beautiful boy he's ever seen sweeping back into his life after eight years to prove his theories work like a goddamn miracle. When Viktor invited him in, he was expecting a drink and an opportunity to make good on what he promised himself he'd do for years. When Viktor beckons him into a darkened bedroom and shown a sleeping child, he's taken aback. He thinks something completely different until Viktor says she's theirs. Her name is Ninati.

Jayce is shell shocked and barely registers Viktor saying that he is not required to be a parent to her if he is not willing and that they need to establish some boundaries for their partnership going forward. Jayce practically pounces on Viktor, telling him that there's no way he's gonna be a deadbeat now that he has the man of his dreams in his arms. They end up quietly screwing in Viktor's room and in the morning Jayce gets introduced to his daughter properly.

The seven year time skip is pretty nebulous but I know a few beats, one of which is them being sort of co-parents with benefits for a few months because they're shit at talking about feelings. And then Jayce proposes out of the blue in a park one day and Viktor is exasperated but says yes. They get married and sometime after try and fail to have another baby. So in Act II, they have a fourteen year old daughter who is as much their pride as Hextech and the events therein become much more tragic.

I still need to work out how Vander's death and Silco's takeover effect Viktor in this instance because he's their fucking kid too. But yeah, this is THE AU in my brain currently.

[reightorwrong]

“What are you wearing…?”

Description: you forget about laundry day and are forced with the tough decision of going out in your most embarrassing pajamas set in front of a certain Hermes camp counselor

A/N: I haven't written a fic since uh 2019…? So my writing is a bit rusty but I wanted to try to get back into it so hopefully you all don't think this is too bad😭😭😭 The pajamas are inspired from this OW2 character's outfit but obvi changed for the fic! Anywho if you do like this hopefully it'll inspire me to write even more little fics but thank you for reading if you choose to do so and I hope you're having a wonderful day/evening/night!!

wc:1009

Pairings: Athena!reader x Luke Castellan

Warnings!: fluff pretty much and the reader getting teased

You don't even know how you could have forgotten it was an honest mistake anyone could make but certainly not as embarrassing for everyone else. You had woken up just like any other day yawning not truly ready to get up for the day but at camp half blood unless you're a child of Hypnos sleeping in isn't the smartest.

As you stretch out and then slip your feet into your slippers you finally make that last stumble out of bed. Walking up to my dresser and open up the drawer noticing how barren it is so much so a cartoon mouth might as well fly out. I turned around to march up to my laundry hamper, deciding it better to re-wear something this once than to simply have nothing else until I noticed it was missing from its key spot. 

I looked up to see if any of my siblings were in the room and saw my sister, Bea “Hey uh Bea have you seen my laundry hamper? I can't remember where I put it…” I say to her with sleepy confusion laced into my voice “Oh yeah well it's laundry day and you were sleeping for a while so Annabeth decided to take yours and do it for you!” Bea explained, “So all my clothes are in the wash.” “Oh yeah sorry is that a bad thing I mean I can't say I won't judge you if you wanna be those people who don't bathe or anything..” Bea says with an astute tone to her voice and a clear grimace on her face “Um no no it's fine…” I replied under my breath.

I walked back to my drawer deliberating between just going out in my PJs or trying to squeeze into some old t-shirt from my first years at camp. I think we all know what I picked but I did decide if I'm going to wear my PJs out I can still wear my normal shoes, lacing up my sneakers I head out marching my way to the mess hall. 

I walk quietly the cold crisp camp air biting at my cheeks while I notice the cold I fail to notice the sound of a certain Hermes boy sneaking up on me before he lightly tugged on one of my braids “Woah woah where are you going girl” Luke said as he stepped in front of me.

 “Luke! I hate when you do that my hair takes a while y'know.” Luke irked me to no end yet I couldn't help but enjoy all our tiny arguments. “Hold on. What are you wearing…?”

 I look down at my outfit: a basic white sleep tank but then lavender pajama pants with owls and moons scattered about with a matching cardigan on top. “What are you jealous, Castellan?” “Very you think we can get matching sets, hm?” Luke replied with a smirk evident on his face.

“ Ugh Why have you come to pester me Luke” I huff out at him as I shift under his gaze “Just wanted to know if you’re still gonna come to training later” I almost freeze up a little as though it might be small Luke has usually never asked to see if I'm coming or not it's not like its hard for him to get another sparring partner. 

“Hmm I don't know.. These are my best fighting clothes. I think they actually might let me beat you this time butttt I already promised Annabeth to sneak out into the strawberry fields with her later..” As I say this I start to continue my walk to the mess hall not letting Luke interrupt my stride.

“Hey wait wait tell her you’ll go on a different day!” Luke jogs back over and starts walking with me “I don't know why you’re being so persistent this time you’ve never acted like this before!” I sass back to him “Oh what I just want to spare with my favorite Athena girl” “Well it's not gonna happen you can spare with me tomorrow okay” my voice holding a teasing tone.

I look at him and scrunch my nose at him as if he were the foul smell you would get if you ventured to the stables. But with that pause in my step, Luke took it to his advantage quickly snagging the owl sleeping mask off of my head and holding it up.

“Well, you'll just have to come by if you want this back then hmm little owl.” With him snatching my eye mask and this newly formed nickname my face glowed a light pink you would think I was a daughter of Aphrodite for a second “Wait what-” Luke already cut me off with a quick peck to my cheek stunning me again and starts to strut off before calling over his shoulder “Okay see you later then my little owl!”

I turn to watch him walk for a mere second before knocking some sense into myself and continuing my walk. I know I shouldn't go. I'm a daughter of Athena, I should be smarter than this but maybe Annabeth could wait a day. It's just fruit…  I think I just really need “my sleeping mask” back…

[neutron-stars-collision]

The last two days I've been trying to understand why did this month somehow feel worse than last summer although I didn't think that was possible in this tiny corner of the fandom. I think it's all because of the low following the high (WT - June/Feb - March) and the fact that it's not the first time. I suppose the crash after lovely February was a hard one to swallow, considering we as Luke stans suffer as much as he is sometimes. Or, at least, it feels that way.

We're not allowed to openly hope for things, we're not allowed to be disappointed in the cards the fate has dealt for our fave. There's not much we're allowed to express, which feels a bit like how Luke is treated by that same contingent of idiots. And it fucking sucks.

Sometimes I feel like I might pull back a bit from existing on here. Not because I don't have trust in him - I do. I hope he's happy with his life and that good things are in the works for later this year. I also do believe one day it'll feel better to be his fan. At least once stupid people move on from hating someone who hasn't done anything wrong. But until then... it's hard. Admittedly.

But, not to treat this a PSA no one asked for or wanted lol, I do hope there's more like me who hope (and also are convinced about it), that do know there'll be some good news following whatever this is. Some public appearances and some casting news if he feels up to it.

[critter-genfic-events]

This time we have seven stories with sendings! Check them out beneath the cut, and kudos and comment if you like them! Wait, you pooping?

message by justsleepwalkin (1756,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Jester Lavorre & Essek Thelyss, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss & Verin Thelyss

Messages over the years.

Reccer says: I liked it

A Duet, Quick in Tempo by Operafloozy (6611,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Jester & Verin

Verin isn’t sure what to make of Jester’s sendings, but a lot of people aren’t really sure what to make of Verin, either. It turns out those sendings sure do come in handy when trouble arises.

Reccer says: It's sweet and funny, with great himbo Verin

poisoning the well by saturdaysky (1459,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Caleb Widogast/Essek Thelyss, Caleb & Trent

Old habits are hard to break, even if you have shed the skin that formed them.

Reccer says: A great character study of Caleb, second guessing himself

Sending Consolation Prizes to my Next of Kin by thought (10531,Teen) Warnings: Pairings: Dorian Storm/Dariax Zaveon, Ashton Greymoore/Dorian Storm, Fearne Calloway & Orym & Dorian Storm, Fy'ra Rai & Dorian Storm

Brontë gets on an airship to Tal'Dorei. Dorian attempts to cope.

Reccer says: I love this exploration of Dorian and Cyrus's relationship, and also of Dorian himself after he left Bells Hells

Stay the Course? by ImperialKatwala (893,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Keyleth & Orym

Orym asked Imogen to send a message to the Voice of the Tempest. He even wrote it down to make sure everything fit in the twenty-five words of a Sending spell. What was going through his head when he wrote it?

Reccer says: I liked it

until it doesn't hurt by breitweisergallery (3798,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Deirta Thelyss & Essek Thelyss, Deirta Thelyss & Verin Thelyss, Essek Thelyss & Verin Thelyss

5 times Deirta sent to her sons and 1 time her son sent to her

Reccer says: I'm such a sucker for Thelyss family dynamics, and this is the good stuff

there is magic in this room (this is our conversation starter) by quinn_of_aebradore (2781,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Orym & Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre & Imogen Temult, Jester Lavorre & Caleb Widogast

what was happening on the Nein's end of the Sendings between Caleb, Orym, Imogen, and Jester.

Reccer says: I think we all were wondering what Jester did when she got her sendings back, and it's great to see

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

On March 1st, we'll be featuring Fearne Calloway! Then, it'll be road trips, Chetney, and then Sickfic

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

When do you think we'll get a full face reveal of the children? She's not even 10 posts in on instagram and has already showed them, even if faceless, plenty of times. Maybe I'm too optimistic but I think she'll need to go through all of her other options first so I'm thinking around august - september.

For now she still has her show to look forward to and her brand to launch. It could keep her busy until april - may. She'll also go fulI influcencer mode and try to monetize her insta with other brands collabs. I think it'll fails so for the summer, she'll work on that 3rd foreign trip that was mentioned for her and Harry, again in Africa. But just like the Colombian trip, it won't bring them anything. Then she'll be left with trying to convince Netflix to renew their deals and that is when she'll show the kids fully, to bring more attention to her and fake her popularity ratings.

Also she's really been pushing her kids royal links recently. People and Hello mag have both been naming princess Lilibeth whereas many other tabloids would skip the title and simply call her Lili.

After March 4th. It'll depend on how the Netflix show goes.

If it does well and she can hard-launch 'As Ever' without the kids and it does passably OK, it'll be some time before we see the kids.

If the show does poorly and 'As Ever' doesn't get any traction, then we'll see the kids sooner. My guess is she'll build an ad campaign around the kids that comes out mid/late April. (iykyk 👀)

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 8

A/N: I want to start by saying how much I LOVE ALL OF YOU who are reading along and commenting and loving Viv as much as I love her (and Elvis does 😏). We're getting closer and closer to the end here. I hope this story continues to intrigue you all! Thank you again for all of the comments! They really mean the world to me! 🩷

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, kissing, p in v penetrative sex, creampie, infidelity, angst

Word count: ~1.9k

Their conversation is over before it even started. And after this they'll never talk again.

******

Time passes and the day of the wedding arrives. Vivian stands in her dressing room in her wedding dress and veil, staring at herself in the mirror. She smoothes the fabric in the front and tries to take in her reflection.

She doesn't feel like a bride. This is supposed to be the happiest day of her life. And she's not exactly unhappy. Sonny is a good man and he treats her well. He loves her and she knows he'll take care of her as her husband. She shakes her head and tries to focus on him.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. West. Sonny and I are so glad you came." She says it to herself in the mirror, practicing the sound of it. "Mrs. West."

But it feels wrong. Something about it makes her want to cry and she swallows the lump in her throat and tries again.

"I'm Mrs. Vivian West. Mrs... I'm..." The only thing keeping her from breaking down is how long she spent doing her eye makeup. She looks up at the ceiling, willing the tears not to fall. Taking a deep breath, she exhales slowly and tries again.

"I'm Mrs...." and then it just slips out. "I'm Mrs. Presley. Mrs. Vivian Presley..."

A smile slowly spreads across her face as a feeling of warmth bubbles up inside her. She has a hard time containing the joy that emanates from her when she thinks of Elvis at the end of the aisle, sliding a ring onto her finger, pulling her to him in a kiss in front of everyone that knows them. She giggles and smooths her dress again. "Elvis and I are so happy you're here. We're just excited for the marriage. Thank you, yes, he does make a stunning groom."

The fantasy lights her up from the inside and she looks at herself in the mirror. Now she looks like a bride.

Then, her smile falls. It won't be Elvis at the end of the aisle. It'll be Sonny, with Elvis standing next to him as his best man. The sob that wells up is impossible to suppress. She'll have to redo her makeup.

******

There's a photographer in the room as Elvis helps Sonny get dressed. Sonny is buzzing with excitement and Elvis is doing his best not to ruin it. Finally, Sonny is finished and he leaves the room to take care of some kind of wedding business, leaving Elvis alone.

Elvis looks in the mirror at himself in his black velvet jacket that Priscilla bought. He straightens his white tie and rearranges his necklace. Breathing deeply, he tries to prepare himself to see Vivian walk down the aisle towards him. Well, not towards him, but down the aisle. His mind begins to wander about how it might feel if she actually was walking towards him. He closes his eyes and imagines it, his heart skipping a beat. She will be such a beautiful bride. A lump begins to form in his throat at the thought of taking her hands in his and promising to love her until the end of time. He would kiss her so tenderly and hold her as long as he could before they turned and walked back down the aisle together into their future. When he opens his eyes, he's smiling. But then the reality sets in again and he sighs.

"Boss, are you okay?" He didn't even notice Sonny come back into the room.

"Yeah! Yes! I'm fine. Let's get you married." He turns and he and Sonny head out of the room to stand at the front of the church and wait for Viv.

******

The bridal march begins and Vivian takes her stepdad's arm to walk down the aisle. Her heart is pounding when the doors finally open and they make their way. She sees Sonny first and smiles softly. He is handsome and the look of love on his face is truly endearing.

But then her eyes drift over to Elvis. His smile is gentle and filled with awe and it makes her want to scream. As their eye contact continues his face changes to a look of dejected sorrow. He looks down at the floor and shifts uncomfortably and Vivian almost loses control. She has to look up at the ceiling for a few seconds and then back to Sonny quickly.

When she gets to him at the end of the aisle, he takes her hands softly and the ceremony begins.

******

After the wedding, the party gathers at Graceland. Elvis takes a few photos with Priscilla, actively trying to wipe from his memory the image of Viv and Sonny kissing.

There's music and food and drinks and lots of people in the living room and dining room and kitchen. Eventually, someone sends Elvis down to the bar in the tv room to get something. He walks down the stairs and pauses at the bottom, enjoying the quiet.

"Hello?" The voice comes from the pool room and he's pretty sure he recognizes it.

"Viv?" He peeks into the room and sees her sitting on a chair in the corner. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just... needed some quiet." He nods.

"I understand that." She sits and he stands in silence for a while as the party rages upstairs. Finally, he just can't stand it anymore. "Sonny?! Seriously?!"

She looks up at him in shock and he's damn near shaking with rage. Every feeling he's suppressed for the last 4 years is coming out as anger.

"Yeah? We've been together for a long time. Why is it just bothering you now?"

"You married him, Vivian!"

"Yeah..." she looks at him confused.

"Whatever happened to wanting to be on fire for your husband? You wanted to burn for him, remember?"

"Elvis, that was a long time ago. We've grown up since then." He shakes his head furiously.

"How could you do this?"

"I don't understand what you think I did."

"You chose Sonny!"

"You chose Priscilla!" She stands up defiantly, walking over to stand between him and the pool table. He looms over her, seething.

"No. You told me to marry Priscilla. But when I needed you, when I called for you, you chose Sonny!"

"Elvis, what are you talking about?!"

"When I fell! I asked for you and asked for you and you didn't come. You were too busy with Sonny! Again, you were with one of my friends instead of me!" Elvis begins to pace back and forth in an effort to work off some of his rage.

"Elvis! Who told you that?!"

"Cilla. She told me they called you and-"

"Of course she did." Vivian rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "I was here, Elvis."

"No, you weren't." He stops pacing and walks up to her so close she can feel him breathing.

"Yes, I was! Sonny called me and I came immediately." She speaks quietly and looks up at him through her eyelashes. "Priscilla told me you didn't want me."

He softens, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes.

"Of course I wanted you."

"I was here." She whispers. All of a sudden, before he even knows what he's doing, he captures her lips in a passionate kiss. His hands go immediately to her hips and he sets her on the edge of the pool table, spreading her legs and pulling her close to him. He puts one hand on the side of her neck, kissing down her cheek and jawline to the smooth skin below her ear.

She whimpers as he rolls his hips into her and continues kissing down her chest to her cleavage and then drags his tongue back up her neck to nibble on her earlobe. His other hand slides up her thigh under her dress. Her hands go directly to his belt buckle, fumbling until she finally gets it undone and shoves her hand into his pants to palm his hardened cock. He makes a noise that's somewhere between a moan and a grunt as she starts to pump him with her hand. His thumb finds her clit over her panties and he begins to rub circles on her. He runs his fingertip up her slit and notices how wet her panties are, groaning. He needs her, now.

With both hands, he pushes her dress all the way up and pulls her panties down and off. She unzips his pants and frees his dick, moaning into his mouth. Pulling her to the edge of the table, he teases her clit with his tip for a second before slowly entering her, grunting as he pushes in.

"God, Viv." He whispers, kissing her neck. "I've wanted this for so long."

"So have I." She whispers, clutching his back. He begins to pick up a steady rhythm of sliding in and out of her. She leans her head back and he slips the sleeves of her dress off of her shoulders, exposing her breasts to him. He runs his tongue around one nipple as he continues to fuck into her. She bounces as he pounds into her, each thrust getting harder and harder, the years of pent up tension finally reaching the surface as their hips meet over and over. The wedding party continues upstairs, covering the sounds of their lovemaking: the whimpers and moans and skin slapping together.

He kisses back up her neck to her mouth and she bites his bottom lip. He groans and kisses her harder, his tongue exploring her mouth deeply. Again, his thumb finds her clit and he rubs over and around it as he pumps into her bringing her to brink of an orgasm quickly.

"Mmm Elvis, yes..." She whimpers.

"Say my name again."

"Elvis... God, don't stop!"

"Viv, baby, I won't. I want you to cum with me. Say it again."

"Elvis!" She screams as she finally tumbles over the edge, shuddering and pulsing on his cock as he fills her so deeply, shooting her full of his own release at the same time, the waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"Oh, God, Viv..." He pumps into her weakly a couple more times, holding her close and breathing heavily. "What does this mean?"

"I don't-" Just then they hear footsteps on the stairs and frantically jump apart, Viv sliding off of the table and yanking her skirt down quickly as he puts himself away and tries to zip his pants.

"Hey, boss- oh, fuck." Jerry turns his back abruptly as they continue to rearrange their clothing.

"What d'you want, Jerry?" Elvis asks, obviously annoyed.

"Nothin', just, Cilla was looking for you..."

"I'll be up in a minute." Jerry nods, keeping his back turned, and walks back up the stairs. Elvis turns back to Vivian.

"I have to... but we're not done talking about this."

"Elvis, we're both married. What is there to talk about?"

"No. I'm not letting this be the end of it."

"What choice do we have?!"

"Viv, no!"

"Go to your wife. I need to see my husband."

"Vivian!" She picks her panties up off the floor and tucks them into his pocket.

"So you never forget."

"How could I forget this?! Viv!" He yells as she walks up the stairs away from him.

******

Later that night, as Sonny sleeps peacefully on his pillow beside her, Vivian cries herself to sleep, silent tears streaming down her face.

******

Almost the end...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @burnthheparaphilia @cinnamoroll-things

[azaharinflames]

In truth, I would greatly appreciate your thoughts on how 8b will play out and what do you think will happen in the end regarding Tevan? 💔

Hi, Nonnie! Sorry for taking so long, half of it was because of the month I had, half of it is because well, I'm not sure?

There are two creatures inside of me: the realistic (and rather pessimistic) one and the slightly hopeful one.

For hopeful: I think bringing Tommy back is a very real possibility, based on the fact that a) the break-up was open-ended, and that was very much for a reason b) they made sure to show us Buck longing for Tommy and even cared to show Tommy is also thinking about Buck c) they also made sure Tommy was not painted in a bad light (something a lot of us feared he would be) and perhaps d) it would be extremely dumb to pass on a character/ship/storyline that very obviously brings in a lot of viewers and engagement, more so when we're talking about a show that is on its eight season and needs this engagement to keep going.

So. That being said. If they bring Tommy back, I'm one of those who believes it wouldn't be until the end of the season / one of the last few episodes. I think they'll take 8b to explore what Buck does, how he feels, and how he identifies (hopefully), and by the end he'll know and Tommy will be there. Kinda like they were the right person, the wrong time, but make it the right time this time.

Now, for realistic (pessimistic): This honestly is just me being that, pessimistic. And not trusting 911 a whole lot after what they did with 8a. This part of me already fears for the 'fling', and for the time jump, and for JLH saying Maddie needed the haircut she got (thank God the straight bob is gone, by the way) because of what will happen in the show. The hair is much longer than she had been rocking before, and unless Maddie gets extensions, this would mean the time jump is rather big. They can't go too big of a time jump because of Jee (because I doubt they'd change the actors for that), but there will be one. I personally think it'll be a natural time jump (809&10 take place right after, but my bet is that 811 will be in March of their timeline, so kinda like the hiatus).

That to say: I'm fully expecting for them to portray Buck as fully moved on by 810, and starting a new bachelor era come 811. Perhaps the fling is over in a couple eps, that's what I'm expecting, but perhaps he also moves on to someone new and Tommy is never mentioned again, and we see him appear in an Abby-like appearance at the end of Season 9, or 10. But that's just my pessimistic side talking.

In truth, it's hard to try to guess what will happen because 911 is just not caring that much lately. Like, sure, they sorta hinted at SLs that we'll see in 8b, but they also did that in 7b going into 8a, and look where that got us. So guessing is a bit useless, in my opinion.

Anyway. Sorry for the rant lmao. My inbox is open for ranting, venting, and giving opinions or confessions!

Take care <3

[sea-buns]

Will being the one to call Orym out on his self-sacrificing habits goes SO HARD. Cuz it really is past "habits" at this point. He's pretty much been betting on his death to the extent that it's self-destruction. He says he's doing it for his friends, and that he wants to be with them in the aftermath....

But if you act as if you're already dead, then you might as well be.

He's said before that he knows Will would want him to live and fight, and he's right, but it's "live and fight." Keyword: AND. Not "live to fight." If you're living to fight, there is no after.

And as much as Orym would definitely benefit if this talk came from the group, the odds that he'd really change his behavior are so slim. But coming from Will? What's he gonna do? Take the words and wishes of someone he reveres more than his own life with a grain of salt and continue to march steadfast into an early grave?

There is no world in which Will says anything (in life or death) where Orym does not disassemble and piece it into himself until it is so seamlessly integrated into the fabric of his existence that you wouldn't know it hadn't been there from the start.

I'm very excited to see how his actions and thinking will change going forward, because there's no way it doesn't to some extent. I imagine it'll be real slow and clunky cuz boy howdy what a difficult headspace to break.

But if anything can get us there, it's moon husbands.

[toxicanonymity]

Brothel - Dicks

The brothel, aka real housecreeps, is a meta reality show about the Joels and other blorbos. Normally everything is smooth sailing, but we mostly air the drama.

Collect calls SPOILERS

brothel master list

Oh no, a producer leaked a copy of the dick HCs and raider Joel just sent me a dick pic with a ruler for scale, claiming I shorted him. I stared at it for a good 60 seconds, then left him on read. Now someone's knocking at my bedroom door. I ignore it and respond to the pic instead. "Sorry 😬"

Raider, muffled outside my door: Think ya might need a better look. (I don't answer) Can I at least talk to ya?

I put on my robe, begrudgingly let him in, and try not to look at the bulge in his tactical jeggings.

Raider: Production told me to take it up with you.

Me: Tell me you didn't send pictures to production. (Raider is silent.) That's sexual harassment. God damnit, in the middle of your PR tour?

Raider hangs his head and seems sorry until he unzips his tactical jeggings and that's the only reason he was looking down. I'm tempted to make him jack off just because, but I shake my head no.

Raider: Be a good girl for me and it'll be over quick.

Me: are you regressing back to March over this? Don't talk to me like a reader, and don't come in here taking your dick out.

Raider nods solemnly, and I sheepishly add under my breath, "unless I tell you to." The toilet flushes and I nervously look toward the bathroom.

Trouble walks out, fully dressed, buttoning his shirt.

Trouble, to Raider: Didn't I tell you to leave this shit alone, man?

Raider: Pool house, huh? You live in the pool house?

Raider sticks his head into the bathroom and sees there's a big, lavish bedroom connected on the other side and the bed is made. Trouble mouths to me, 'want him to leave?' and I shrug like Idk what to do.

Raider: Can you give us a minute, man?

Trouble: I think you should leave, Raid. I get you're upset but don't bust up in here at 6 in the morning.

Me: Neither of you are leaving.

I put Trouble in the cuck chair, Raider sits on the bed, and I sit down at the vanity to finish talking to him. His pants are still open but I'm not looking.

Me (attempting to be comforting) Hey, anything more than 7" is a waste anyway.

Trouble (7") nods.

Raider: this ain't about sweet pea.

Trouble: that's your issue, man.

Me, to Raider: You're the biggest one either way, why're you pitching a fit over less than a centimeter?

Raider and Trouble look at each other. Trouble shakes his head at Raider like, don't say it.

Raider: We know about him.

Oh, shit. Trouble sighs. I play stupid.

Me: you know about who?

Raider: Jojo.

Me: He doesnt have an HC.

Raider: He has a bulge.

Me: I haven't even seen his dick.

Raider: You've seen his dick print.

Me: How do you--

Raider: All I'm askin' for is accuracy, that's it. Ill do ya a dick print if ya want.

Me: Lemme talk to my dick consultant (@jazziepascal ).

Raider: What'd I do? I used to be your emotional support Joel. Your mental health Joel.

I realize maybe he could've helped me through this month if I spent more time with him.

Me: You still are, c'mere.

I open my arms for a hug. We embrace, but his dick is still hard so it's awkward. After the hug, Trouble is making a face like he wouldnt mind being cucked, but I clear my throat , adjust my robe, and dismiss both of them.

-----------------

Later that day, the men gather in the kitchen. They're huddled around the table and you can't see Night Walks, but they're all talking to him. You can see balled up pieces of paper on the floor and and on the counter there's an open ream of printer paper and an open tub of vasoline.

Thighs Out: I think you've gotta really slap it down.

(loud smack)

Thighs Out: There ya go. Your turn, slasher.