#i'm liking it so far even if i had to compromise a bit on her room

[helladventurers]

Day one and a half of working on Zooey's Anyx Trine room

[luxcuriousao3]

Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his ass as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Ты сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that elongated in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

[oceantornadoo]

sleepy morning (simon riley x f!reader)

part 4 of the two lieutenants series...HORNINESS LEVEL 1000

tw: wet and messyyyyyyyyy MDNI

--

that had to have been the best sleep of your life.

no seriously. extra strength melatonin could not compare to sleeping with simon THEE “ghost” riley. you had never had such a broad, thick man on top of you. and you liked it.

now, however, you found yourself in a much more compromising position.

the sleep had started innocent enough, you both insisting it was a platonic arrangement, a cheap version of getting a weighted blanket. but you had shuffled in your sleep, and now your bodies were tangled. simon's head lay on your collabone, his mouth hovering over your clothed breast, emitting small sighs in his sleep. your nipples were aching at the prolonged stimulation, his breath changing the temperature and making them harden. his hands grasped you beneath your arms, thumbs brushing the sides of your tits. you didn't think it was on purpose, but you had been on the edge for hours.

simon nuzzled closer into you, feigning sleep as long as possible. his left thigh wedged between your legs, his right bracketing the outside of yours to keep you right there. his morning wood, clothed by his thin sweats, laid heavy against your thigh. he could almost smell the wetness between your thighs, the way you tried humping him when you were asleep. little, uncontrolled movements of your hips, up and down, chasing friction. he tried to stop his teeth from sinking into your clothed tit, the softness of it so tempting. you were right there, almost his, yet so far it felt like foreign territory. somewhere he's been plenty of times, unwelcome. he had to tread carefully. then of course, soap had the gall to knock.

"l.t.? yer on recruit training, started a couple minutes ago." simon groaned against you, providing even more friction to your tit. guess he couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore. "'m sick. cancel it." a pause, soap was unbelieving. when simon was sick, if anything, he coached the recruits with even more vengeance than usual. "yer sure?" simon propped himself up on his forearms, squishing you in between them even more. you looked up at him, a dream with your tired eyes and a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. he laid a small kiss to your forehead, so small you must still be dreaming. "cancel it. 'm bedridden today." his gravelly morning voice must have been enough for soap, who he could virtually hear straightening up after leaning against simon's doorframe. "got it, l.t."

simon breathed a sigh of relief. finally, finally, he acknowledged you. "mornin' dovie. sleep well?" sleep well?! you had slept like the dead. "best sleep of my life, simon. might have to make this a regular thing." you joked, still unsure of the lines that had been erased last night. and that forehead kiss. "available whenever ya need, love." you were still tangled together, his cock still against your cunt. you bucked against him again involuntarily, the whisper of friction too light for you. you both looked down together at where you were almost touching, separated by two layers of fabric. "simon i-"

another loud knock. "what." simon gritted out. "seen the better lieutenant, ghost? we're supposed to run drills today an' i can't find her." it was gaz and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. simon looked down at you questioningly and you shook your head vehemently. "she's sick. contagious." gaz was choking back a laugh. he must have talked to soap before this. "alrigh', i'll tell price. get better, you two." fuck.

"shit, si, i'm sorry. should have slept at my own place i-" another forehead kiss this time, a bit longer than the first. he trailed his mouth to your nose, small pecks here and there. turning his head down, he nosed your jaw, inhaling the smell of your mixed scents. like you were two of the same. one.

"can i?" you were so far gone it took a bit for his question to register. you had tilted your head back to give him more access, a willing prey to your domestic predator. "can- can you what?" he moved down a bit more, cock moving away from your cunt. you unwillingly let out a whine at the loss of contact and he chuckled into your skin. "suck your tits, baby." oh. oh.

"yes, yes. please"

he laughed again, the sensation vibrating through your skin. his mouth finally made contact with your tit, mouthing at it over your t-shirt. thankfully, it was thin, so you can feel the slight suck and the ghost of a bite. he alternated between your breasts, hands rolling the other nipple he wasn't sucking. your shirt was wet, sticking to your skin, drenched in saliva. "simon, can you- please." the last part was a moan as he gave you a bigger bite. "use your words, lieutenant." he was rutting into the bed, cock chasing much needed friction. he didn't want to scare you but his need for you was bubbling over, a pot on the stove too long. "my shirt, ah, my shirt off."

he freed you from your shirt, the fabric drenched in his saliva, sticking to your skin as he peeled it off. your tits were wet and slightly bruised from his minstrations. marked.

"you like my marks on you?" you looked down, not caring about the unsexy double chin as you took in what he had done to you. keeping it platonic was done and dead, and you were going to take advantage of it.

"more."

a willing soldier, he dove back in, licking and sucking like he had been made for it. his right hand went lower, palm pressing against your wet pussy for some much-needed attention to your clit. you had never come from nipple stimulation alone, but you had been edged for hours while you were sleeping. the pressure on your clit was perfect, the wetness seeping through your sleep shirts onto his callused hand. he let go of your nipple with a loud smack, a string of saliva dripping from his chin. "think you can come like this, dove?" you nodded furiously, his desperate little dove. simon went back down to your abandoned tits and you gasped at the feeling of his bite. he pressed his palm harder against your aching cunt, virtually feeling the flutter of your wanting pussy, pleading for him. he rubbed it in circles, up and down, listening to your sounds to find a pattern you liked.

and suddenly he had it, your back arching as you felt that telltale spark at the base of your spine. simon felt it, your desperation increasing tremendously as you bucked into his hand, thrusting out your tits like a bitch in heat. "right there, baby. come fer' me, hm?" you nodded as he gave your tit one last long suck and pressed his palm right where you needed it, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. he lightly tongued your breasts as you came down, cleaning up his mess. "feel better?" you groaned, the reality of how desperate you had acted finally hitting you.

"they all know, simon. the whole base knows by now." he moved up until you two were face to face. so what if the whole base knew? you had been his since that first handshake.

"so what?"

--

guys this was so horny wowwwwwwwww ovulation hitting me fr

[k3n-dyll]

Vouyer [Abby A.]

||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: 18+, wlw, a lot of porn - a pinch of plot if you squint and turn your head, subbottom!abby, domtop!reader, Abby getting caught, masturbation, voyeurism cus reader watches her for a hot minute, fingering(A!receiving), tribbing, perv!reader and perv!abby kinda, overstimulation, Abby cries a lil bit

AN: I feel like my brain fizzed out near the end idk. I think I'm cooked. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck ass as much as my brain is telling me it does!

Masterlist. Divider creds DON'T FORGET ABOUT PALESTINE

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ "Just like that- fuck" the words escape her lips, sounding strained and breathless. A thin layer of sweat coats her toned body as she fills herself up to the best of her ability, her thick fingers ramming in and out of her used, sloppy cunt as she chases her orgasm for the third time tonight.

This was not how she had planned for her night to go, but if you could have only seen just how pretty you'd looked; drenched in sweat from head to toe, clothes sticking to every curve of your bruised and bloodied body after such a close call on patrol earlier that day. She'd almost compromised herself just to get a glimpse of you looking like that. Her piercing blue eyes tracked your every movement, once the threat - a pack of infected that had attacked while you were both searching for supplies - was gone.

Or at least she'd thought they were at the time until she felt a pair of gnarled and decaying hands grab onto her shoulders. She killed the thing herself, of course, knocking the stalker off balance with one hard whack of a steel pipe before throwing it onto the ground, forcing the heel of her boot down onto its sprouting head with a splat. Not realizing that it was you she had been distracted by, you gave her a disapproving eye roll and she winced.

It was her own fault you weren't that fond of her, the blonde has ignored you since you first showed up at the WLF a few months back. Even when you became roommates, Abby's demeanor towards you was always cold and disinterested. It was stupid but she figured it was best. She was unable to even think about saying a word to you without her palms sweating. She just knew she'd fuck up and stumble over her words, making herself look weak in front of you and she couldn't have that.

When Abby learned that you were going to spend part of your night drinking with Manny, Owen, and Nora, she took the opportunity to lie.

" 'm tired. Think I'm gonna just go to bed" she had mumbled, feigning exhaustion, going so far as to force a yawn out before she walked back to the room. Alone.

The girl didn't make it five minutes without touching herself, getting comfortable in bed, and shoving her hand down her underwear. Dumbly, she figured that maybe if she just got off once, she could get the image of you out of her brain.

That was how she got where she is now. Naked, driving her middle and ring fingers as deep as she can get them, pumping them in and out of her cunt, her other hand joining as she rubs feverishly over her sensitive clit. The scene is downright pornographic, the sloshing sounds coming from Abby's body as she fucks herself stupid on her own fingers, her jaw slack, your name spilling from her soft lips in sinful prayer.

She wants it to be you so bad, it's almost pathetic.

She can't bring herself to stop - she just knows it'd feel so much better if your hands replaced her own and the rest of her body seems to agree with that thought. So much so that every time she tries to stop or give herself a break that ache comes back full force, a heartbeat forming between her thick thighs. It gets so bad that she considers walking to your side of the room and grabbing one of your t-shirts because at this point your scent could get her there.

"Jus' one more, one more, baby pleasepleaseplease - holy shit"

That third orgasm hits Abby like a truck, her begging eventually becoming a mess of incoherent babbling under her breath, her body twitching as she comes down from her high. Again. And again, it isn't enough. She can't take her mind off of just how fucking good you would look on top of her - god - the mere thought of having your pretty pussy slotted up against hers is enough to make her crave more.

Abby lets out a deep sigh and plops her head back down onto the pillow underneath her as she tries to catch her breath, thinking maybe she should just try to sleep it off. Despite her better judgement though, she finds herself with the pads of her fingers back on her puffy, pulsing clit, stroking herself in languid circular motions.

You stood in the entryway of your room, peeking your head in the door to watch as Abby fucking Anderson of all people split herself on her fingers, letting out the prettiest moans as she chases her release. You knew that you should probably just close the door and quietly sneak away. Go back to the mess hall with your group, maybe pretend you forgot something, and then conveniently "lose track of time" while you were there so that your roommate could finish her little "session".

You really were going to leave. As a matter of fact, you were halfway through closing the door when you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. It was Abby.

And she was moaning your name.

The sound was unmistakable as it was one of the only words you were able to fully recognize through her stupor of bated breaths and blissed-out whining. The frigid, unstoppable force of a soldier that had been ignoring your existence for months was actually begging for you, crying out your name over and over again as she fucked herself.

You found yourself biting your lip at the sound, and before you knew it, you were tip-toeing all the way into your shared room. You practically held your breath as you closed the door behind you, freezing completely once it clicked shut and lightly punching the air in silent celebration once you had confirmed you managed to sneak in undetected.

It was all so perverted, and yet you couldn't stop staring

You were leaning up against the wall beside the door, trying your best to be quiet and resist the urge to shove your hand down your own pants as you watched Abby's naked body convulse under her fingers when she came, eyes trailing over her body as she rode out her high.

It became clear pretty quickly that she'd been at this for a while, unable to satisfy herself completely. You watched as she began to start herself up again, her hand making its way back down between her thighs, her legs twitching still from her previous climax. From what you can see of her face, she seems a bit frustrated, her eyebrows knotted together in almost anger as she lazily works her fingers on her clit. She looks and sounds so precious that, before you can fully think it through, you speak.

"Still not finished?"

Abby nearly falls out of her bed with how quickly she shoots upward, covering herself with her blanket, a deep red blush fanning out along her freckled cheeks. It doesn't take much for her to realize that you heard her, your expression telling her everything she needed to know.

"I was, uh-..."

"Yeah, I heard...and saw" you interrupt, making your way over to the blonde's bed, unable to contain your amusement at the situation as your eyes trail over her.

" 'S this why you've been avoiding me, baby?"

She just stares at you, not fully knowing why she can't bring herself to do anything - to deny your suspicion, yell at you, or do something that would make her stop feeling so vulnerable right now. But she just looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.

"You could have just asked me for some help with that if you wanted it, y'know." you continue, gently gripping her under her chin to make her look at you.

Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, Abby considers pulling away from you. Getting mad and reasserting her dominance or something but you both know that isn't going to happen. You catch a glimpse of her fingers, glistening and wrinkly from how long she's been trying to get herself off, and your suspicions are confirmed which only emboldens you to go further. You lean down a bit closer, your face so close to hers that your noses nearly touch.

"You can't satisfy yourself no matter how hard you try, can you?"

Abby squirms a little but she shakes her head slightly in response, eyes breaking contact with yours but your hand never releases her jaw. You've never seen her look this exposed before - not only in terms of her nakedness but she just looked so vulnerable and small right now, despite her actual size.

You press a kiss to her lips, and she practically melts into you, allowing you to lay her back down on the mattress and crawl on top of her, your hand caught in her loosened braid. The other hand wanders down between her legs, eager to feel the sticky mess that shes turned herself into over the thought of you.

The sweet little whines she gives you as you circle your fingers along her clit are so unfamiliar coming from her but oh so welcome as opposed to her usual stoicism. You almost feel bad for the fact that shes had to wait for so long to finally get that release shes in desperate need of. A release that can only seem to be triggered by your hand.

If Abby wasn't already embarrassed for having been caught, she was sure as hell embarrassed with how quickly you got her to cum on your fingers. You've barely gotten the chance to get them inside of her before her irises roll back, head thrown onto the pillow beneath her as her body twitches in ecstasy.

"S-sorry, I-"

You see her begin to apologize but she's cut off completely at the sight of you sucking her essence off of your fingers, her words being yanked right from her mouth as her arousal comes back with a force. She knows she's way too sensitive to do anything else, but the thought of saying no to you right now doesnt even cross her mind as an option once you start pulling off your clothes.

It's all she can do to keep her hands to herself while you strip. Those vivid blue eyes are glued to your body, enamored by the perfection being uncovered in front of her. You place yourself back on top of her, hiking her leg up over your shoulder and lowering yourself until her cunt is pressed flush against your own. You let out a simultaneous groan at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto her with little regard for how sensitive she is.

"Hnmn- fuck" Abby's hips buck upward involuntarily, her body telling her that she's had enough, but it feels too good to stop.

She couldn't tell you it was too much if she wanted to anyway, every attempted word coming out of her mouth as incoherent whines and half-finished syllables. You watch her face intently as a few tears begin to make their way down her reddened cheeks and it only makes you pick up the pace, pressing wet kisses against the side of her calf as your clit perfectly ruts against hers with each thrust.

"You've wanted this so fuckin' bad, haven't you?" You tease her through gritted teeth, the words spilling out without much thought.

"Want me to fuck you till you cant fuckin breathe, hm?"

All that comes out of Abby in response are breathless "yes's" all jumbled into one word followed desperate little whines, her fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as if she's afraid you'll stop if she lets go.

"G'na cu- ohmygod" she tries to warn but the poor girl can barely think. You hear her loud and clear though, making a point to apply a bit more pressure, the sloppy noises coming from your bodies moving against one another in tandem bringing you close as well.

The orgasm that results sends electricity through your body, pleasure that's only heightened by the uncontained scream that pulls from Abby's throat when she cums with you, drenching your inner thighs even more. She doesn't even seem to care if anyone hears her, too fucked out to even try to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, you take the responsibility away from her, crashing your lips onto hers and muffling the sound in the hard, wet kiss.

The euphoria lingers even after you've slowed to a stop, heavy, labored breathing and Abby's soft whimpers the only sounds that occupy the room. A low chuckle escapes you as you pepper soft kisses along her cheeks, your thumb accompanying to wipe up her pretty tears.

AN: One thing I suck at doing is thinking of a way to fuckin close these

reblogs appreciated☆requests open

Almost forgot, taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @ikoinsblog

[audliminal]

It's Just a game, Right? Pt 7

Masterpost

It's just a game, right?

Tim turns his head at the soft their of a grappling hook, and a moment later Steph has joined him on the roof of the building.

"Not much happening tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tim responds as he watches traffic pass on the street below. She is right; the night so far has been unusually calm. It's a distinct contrast to last week- it seemed like every night some big villain was pulling out some ridiculous plan or other, but somehow they had all been stopped without serious harm. Of course, there are still plenty of rogues still scurrying around Gotham but there's no murmurs of anything coming from any of the big hitters for the moment.

"You don't sound very sure about that," Steph says, stepping up beside Tim and elbowing him lightly.

"Yeah," Tim answers. A flashy silver car cuts someone off and the resultant horn echoes harshly.

"Okay, you're being weird. What's up?"

Tim shrugs.

"Guess I'm just used to emergencies," Tim shrugs. He knows Steph wouldn't be weird about him bringing up Bernard, but he really doesn't need any of his fellow bats thinking he's compromised or overstressed. God knows he doesn't need anyone else pestering him about getting enough sleep, like he's staying up on purpose.

"Okay..." Steph trails off. "I mean I guess it has been pretty hectic for a while. Takes a bit of time to come down from all that?"

Tim is saved from having to respond by the sound of Oracle cutting into comms.

"Red Robin, Spoiler, looks like a store robbery in progress and you're the closest. Head for the intersection of 25th and Oak."

"Got it," Tim answers and doesn't wait for Steph's response, already halfway through the motion of taking off for the next building.

Pretty soon they're both dropping in on a pair of goons. One of them is aiming their gun directly at a frazzled-looking employee, who doesn't seem interested in putting up a fight.

Two-on-two makes it an incredibly easy fight though, and it's almost over before it begins, with both of them able to sneak up on the distracted thugs as the cashier hurriedly pulls money out of the cash register. Once they're both in position, it's easy enough to grapple, disarm, and restrain them in a flurry of movement, and the criminals never get a chance to even process the arrival of the bats.

"Not today, I think," Steph says as she handcuffs her guy. "Threatening people with guns is a real dick move, y'know?" Tim gets his guy handcuffed and turns to the startled employee.

"Cops on the way yet?" He gets a frantic nod, and Tim surveys the shop as he waits for the sirens. They'll bounce just before the cops get here, but until then, he wants to look around for any signs of something bigger. The two would-be thieves seem too shocked and terrified at the appearance of bats to be proper goons, but they could still be bait, or a distraction of some kind. And the shop itself could theoretically have been targeted. But by the time the sirens are closing in outside, he's not spotted signs of anything sinister.

"Right, the police are almost here, so we're gonna bounce!" Steph announces as Tim walks back towards her. "Tell your boss I said he should give you hazard pay for the night, 'kay?" and then she bounces out the same way they came in. Tim nods once at the employee and then follows.

He changes directions once he's on the rooftops again, though. His phone had buzzed about six times in a row while they were waiting, and that means it's probably Bernard. And he really doesn't want to explain the arg thing to anyone yet.

Once he's far enough away from anyone, he pulls his phone out, and sure enough, he's got six text messages from Bernard.

Dude

Babe, holy shit

Like seriously

This is fucking crazy

Like I cannot believe they replied to us

Us!!!

Attached to the series of texts is a screenshot, and Tim feels the anxiety coalesce into something abruptly solid in his chest.

At first glance, he can't tell what language it's supposed to be. It looks like it might be Romantic in origin, but a couple spellings look almost Slavic in nature, and there's only two and a half lines, which really isn't much to go off of.

It's certainly an interesting development, to say the least. He should be excited. This is a new clue for the mystery, after all.

No way! Tim sends back.

Yeah! U busy? Comes the immediate response. And like, technically the answer is yes, Tim supposed. But Steph literally just pointed out how calm things are tonight, and he can already tell he won't be able to focus, with this news.

"Um," Tim clicks on his comm. "I think I'm gonna call it for tonight."

"Something wrong?" Bruce asks immediately, all gruff-batman-voice.

"No, just- it's slow tonight, and Bernard wants my help with something so I thought, um. If you want me to finish my patrol, I can." He can't help it. Even now, he always kind of feels like he isn't doing enough to be a good vigilante.

"Nah, kid. I think we'll be fine without you." Hood answers, unsurprisingly.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah go make out with your boyfriend or whatever."

Tim smiles at Hood's usual ribbing. He's almost gotten used to it; mostly he can keep himself from blushing too violently when anyone teases him about Bernard.

"Okay. I'll make sure to get my report submitted by eight, promise." Tim is already en route to the nearest safehouse where he can change out of the suit, when he remembers he hasn't responded to Bernard yet.

Heading home rn. My place or yours? He hits send and then takes off once more. Excited to see his boyfriend, and determined to work through the newest puzzle.

[not-so-plus-ultra]

Okay, maybe unpopular opinion time, but I started watching DanDaDan (ADORE it so far) and some of you are starting to become the meme of "that one friend who is too woke" about what happens in the first episode

TW for sexual assault + CW light DanDaDan spoilers if you haven't watched it yet. Its gonna be a bit ranty

First of all I wanna preface this with saying that, if Momo's scene with the aliens impacted you and / or you found it triggering, that's extremely valid. I am not claiming it isn't, specially for people who have any kind of sexual trauma. What I'm gonna say is not about that

What I mean is; I think we have gotten so used to a very big number of anime using sexual assault as a "funny" gag, having characters violate other characters' physical boundaries, or having a token perverted / incestuous / p*do character, all in the name of terrible "comedy" or fanservice, that we have started bracing up for any mention or showcase of sexual assault to be treated as a gag or as a "sexy" thing; specially when it comes to female characters, because sadly they're the victims of this 99% of the time. This, without going over the sexualization of characters in general, even when mundane things are happening

It's a sentiment I understand and share. I hate all of these tropes and "jokes" and it makes me really sad when a series I otherwise like has to include something like that. I actively criticize these kinds of things no matter how big a fan I am of a work in question

However, I think because of all this, we have forgotten that media can choose to use scenarios like that as an actual Bad thing to show. A bad and unfortunate thing that happens to a character that isn't used as comedy or as fanservice

I had heard about the sexual assault scene in DanDaDan prior to watching it, and I had decided I was gonna skip that scene, as I am someone who is both disgusted by these things and has trauma related to them. However while skipping quickly through the scene I thought it didn't look as bad as I was bracing for, so I decided it was something I could stomach. I was really surprised when I saw that the scene was strictly being handled as a bad thing happening to Momo, and that it also ultimately ended up with her escaping her assaulters before anything truly scarring happens

No jokes about the situation per se, no compromising shots other than the fact that she was in her underwear - and regarding that, the fact that she was built like a normal girl, her proportions and physical features weren't presented in any objectifying or exaggerated way, and through the whole scene she was fighting against it and being uncomfortable instead of submitting to the situation or being made to blush and get flustered about it like you can Disgracefully see in many other instances of other shows

DanDaDan is ultimately a horror / paranormal series. It's not as dark as others and it seems it doesn't pretend to be, but bad things are bound to happen. I think that, as long as you do it tastefully, almost any subject can be used for those bad things. Sexual stuff is sadly EXTREMELY misused in anime, and tbh in media in general, but I don't think it has to be a taboo thing to have your characters go through as long as youre not being weird about it

Furthermore, I think it's pretty clear that, at least the parts that have been adapted of this manga so far (I am not a manga reader btw, I have only seen the 5 anime episodes that are currently out, so if the manga later proves me defending it wrong, I'm sorry, and I'd like to hear it), are in part talking about bodily autonomy

Our mcs BOTH get assaulted, but nobody online ever pays attention to Okarun losing his genitals as him also having been assaulted simply because it's presented in a more unrealistic way. His initial motivation in the series is to retrieve his genitals, and even when he seems to have gotten them back the first time, something is still wrong (another part missing) and he can't just go about his life normally again as if nothing had happened, which I think is a clear metaphor of a victim's feelings after having been assaulted; and what is more, our first arc ends with the revelation that the ghost who did that to him seems to have done it to protect the place she's bound to, a tunnel, from men, for we get told that many girls have gotten sexually assaulted, killed and dismembered in it

About Okarun, I DO get that his situation is shown in a bit of a silly light because haha penis, but I am also afraid that people would have reacted a lot more if he was a girl losing his genitals instead even if it was painted in the same light. Both Momo and Okarun got out of the situation fighting, both of them were brave and as nonchalant as they could to their assaulters, but it's only Momo's situation which gets treated as the bad one. Both get terrible things done to them ! And both of them are being shown as bad things !

None of this means you personally can't be uncomfortable with any of the mentioned scene; after all, they're portraying something horrible that happens in real life. And again, I get that in Momo's case, although unrealistic elements are involved, the situation she's put in can look closer to a real life assault, and thus, it can be more triggering. But the fact is that the sexual assault of both characters is being used to showcase a terrible thing, it's not there just for a gag or for people to put their eyes on the characters' bodies, and I personally just think it's silly when I see people lump in the situations in DanDaDan with series like Undead Unluck, when the former is portraying assault as not only a genuinely bad situation but also as part of the many points I think the first act of the series makes about bodily autonomy, and the later uses it as a reocurring "funny" gag (I have seen people say it gets better later, but still, it's still used as a gag at some point)

This is brought to you by me seeing people on Twitter compare DanDaDan's assault scene to incestuous characters from other animes like Yuri from Spy x Family, Makoto from Saiki K., and Lance from Mashle. I am a big fan of two of those three series and let me tell you: those characters can fuck themselves, I don't find haha incest jokes funny or necessary in any piece of media

[mayuichi]

Spending your birthday with them.

Include:

Genshin Impact [ Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou ]

Honkai: Star Rail [ Aventurine & Veritas Ratio ]

Persona 5 [ Akechi Goro ]

Moriarty the Patriot [ William James Moriarty & Fred Porlock ]

Content Warning: fem!reader, I'm sorry for men that may read this! If you easily switch pronouns in your mind then go ahead, but there's mention of the reader wearing a dress at some point! (kind of irrevelant though, so I think you can imagine something else then?), pet names and.. that's all i think-. it's just a fluff so...

may's note: im so sorry i took so long to come back!! ive got a lot on my plate recently, i had planned another oneshot to come out but but BUUT!! My best friend's birthday is right around the corner when I write this (aha just a day before.. hi..) so im writing this for her, with her favourites and some that i know she loves <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! I HOPE YOULL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND THAT YOU GOT THAT PLUSH YOU WANTED TO GO WITH AVENTURINE!! ive kinda rushed this to come out ngl, because its been a month im like "i have the time" until i didnt have time anymore.. sorry if it sucks :(

This artwork has been made by susucre! Do not steal/use it! every other used for the headers are official arts!

Even if he doesn't want to, he has duties now. Or at least, unexpected duties. But you can be sure Alhaitham always makes some time for you. How can he not? You're his sweetheart. Well, he isn't one to give sweet names but he still thinks so.

However, how could've you expect him to forget about your birthday? It's once a year, and he doesn't really care much about them usually. But we're talking about you. Of course he can't forget about it. He wants you happy, and he knows you'd hate if he doesn't at least wish you a happy birthday.

But what was your surprise when you find him still in bed, beside you, his right arm drapped over you as he reads from the other. Isn't he supposed to be at work, at the Akademiya? You don't even have the time to inquire, he saw your eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning.„ he briefly looks over you, before focusing back onto his book. But he strokes your side with his hand gently. He isn't much of a talker, but his small gestures are everything, aren't they?

He rapidly finishes his page, and places the book down to turn to you. “I'll let you take a shower and I'll prepare you breakfast.„ you can't even reply that he's already out of bed and heading to the kitchen. You'll just have to go shower.

It's your special day. Of course you'll wear a pretty dress, you want to feel extra pretty for today. When done, you head to the living room, finding him waiting for you to eat. It isn't a feast, but more than enough for the both of you. The silence is comfortable, only your breathing.

“Where are you going?„ he inquires when he sees you about to open the front door. You thought you'd go on a walk. “I haven't overworked myself for a week so I could have a full day off for you to ditch me, you know?„

It wasn't much, maybe even a bit offensive for some. But the idea that he paid attention enough to be certain to have a complete day off for you is enough to make you smile. And so, you chuckle and walk towards him.

“The weather is nice. It's sunny. We should go out together, don't you think?„ you tilt your head, waiting for his approval.. or for a compromise.

“It is. It's the perfect weather to do nothing at all. Or to read next to a window.„ without further notice, he stands and pulls you with him to the nearby window. Making you sit in his lap, he pulls out a book and rests his chin on top of your head.

“Maybe it isn't the best birthday you'll ever have, but I hope my company is enough.„ he isn't necessarily insecure, far from it even. But it's your special day. He just wants to make you happy, doesn't he?

And even if he says so, just reading in his lap with him, is enough. Spending time with him makes it nicer. Leaning further into his chest, you sigh and start to read with him. He's careful to wait for you, to ensure you finished before he actually turns the page.

He'll take breaks from time to time to make you both a drink, or to let you talk a bit. It isn't partying, but being able to spend the day together, reading and talking, without him possibly thinking about his duties is a luxury he doesn't always allow himself.

And he's more than glad for it to be with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚

Until now, Wriothesley was used to stay in the Fortress most of his time. It never bothered him. Sigewinne keeps him company, and his prisoners aren't too bad most of the time. Even Neuvillette or Clorinde comes visit him from time to time.

But it changed when he met you. He didn't want you to be that often in the Fortress, and yet he couldn't help but want you. You don't know it, but he even asked Neuvillette for your birthday. It has never been that much of a talk in between you. You were both kind of over it after all. You aren't toddlers for who it is extremely important to get one year older.

But he wants your first birthday with him to be special, to be something you'd remember. He wants to make this day amazing. And for that, he had to have permissions and ensure the paperwork was done before that day. He had to be prepared for any possibility, to be called in for an emergency if someone tried to escape, or if they get overwhelmed and for your day to be ruined.

But he was willing to take that risk.

On your occasional weekly visit, you both talk and drink tea together, as any other time. You're not sure when, yet now, he has you in his arms, holding you close. It is as if he believed you were leaving. He's quick to compose himself and just steals a kiss from you, to hide his worries behind that smirk he always has when he surprises you.

“By the way, I've heard your birthday is soon, isn't it?„ you raise an eyebrow. You haven't told him, yet he knows. “Would you like us to spend the day together?„

You were so sure he meant inside the Fortress of Meropide, that when he mentioned that it wouldn't be there, but in the city, your eyes widened. Of course, you firstly worried about his work. It isn't like he's just a guard who could take a day off or a sick day. He has a prison to keep in place.

But he assured you it'd be alright. And so you trust him. There's no reason for you not to.

Your birthday was soon to come, and you waited for him in front of the Fortress' entrance. Dressed in a pretty outfit, that you kept on for this occasion, you obviously felt amazing. And upon seeing you, Wriothesley grinned. “Someone made herself extra beautiful for today.„

His tone flirty, he wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his lips on your hair. “It suits you perfectly. But you're always beautiful.„ his words meant the world to you.

And so began the day. Wriothesley is careful, meticulous even. He makes sure you stay hydrated, well fed and have fun. If you want a pastry, he'll buy it without a second thought. This piece of jewerly looks pretty on you? He'll offer it to you, no matter the cost.

It's weird for everyone to see the Duke out of the Fortress. He's respected for sure, and well known. You hold hands all day long, sometimes stealing kisses when you're in a alley or when no one's looking.

When the sun fades away to let the moon takes place, stars show up too. Now sitting near the water, you both look up at the navy blue sky. Wriothesley lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “I hope you had fun. I'm not sure when I'd be capable to have such a long time outside the Fortress without it being work related.„

Sure or not, you're just happy he manages to have time for you. And he's relieved everything went smoothly. He leans closer to you, his lips grazing your cheek. “Happy birthday.„

And even if it has caused him some stress, he's ready to do it over again next year if it makes him see your eyes so sparkly and shiny with delightment and happiness.

He'd risk anything to see you smile and hear your laughers echoing in his ears.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

The good part of being a detective is that he knows how to not leave any clue about his true intentions. And so, he can surprise you whenever he wants and you won't even realise he has planned it for a while!

Since Heizou can hardly take a day off recently, you agreed it'd be better if you spend the day with your friends and just leave your evening for him.

It was an amazing day, your friends and you strolled around the city, went to some fancy places and just spoiled you entirely. But it felt off, knowing that Heizou wasn't with you like you wished he could've.

They dropped you by your house, and with a sigh, you stepped inside. Of course Heizou wasn't home yet. It wasn't surprising, he's quite overwhelmed with work lately. Yet there was a small disappointment in your chest. Your heart was a bit heavier. But you brush it off.

By the time he gets home, you had just finished preparing dinner. He steps closer with that shitty grin and clears his throat. “Such a sweetie, making dinner when I hoped I'd have time to treat you today.„ of course, he doesn't want you to do any effort for today, but his schedule decided otherwise.

And so, with a swift movement, he shoves a bouquet against your chest. “I know it isn't much compared to how it could've been nicer to spend the day together, but I hope it'll make it up for it a bit.„

Heizou has always been a romantic at heart, he loves it when he sees your cheeks flushing and feels your breath growing faster from his teasing. And he's delighted to see that sweet blush spreading slowly.

Leaning in close, he takes your hands in his, and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let's eat dinner and enjoy the time we have tonight, alright? I need to make it up for you.„

He lets you take care of the bouquet first, ensuring it won't die just yet. He teases you about your day, plays with you some games and even let you win for once. And needless to say the night ends in something.. more than just flirt and teasing.

But he hopes next year won't be as busy, so he can treat you like the princess you are in his eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A gambler. That's what he'll always be no matter what, no matter the day. He needs to work every single day, to be a good asset for the IPC. He can't afford losing. He will never accept it.

But today, Aventurine thought it'd be nice to let you experience gambling too. Well, not as much as he usually does, but more in a regular casino. He's obviously well known here, and has some free drinks. But he wants you to enjoy it too.

He teaches you how to do, the ropes of each games. To guess when to stop, and more importantly of course, to understand the rules and that losing can cost a lot. But deep down, Aventurine doesn't give a fuck about how much money you'll lose. He has way more than someone can think of.

Each games were fun, but you hated seeing those girls eyeing him like you don't exist. Don't they see you, the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, with who he holds hands? Or perhaps they don't care. But it frustrates you.

Even more so when one comes closer and accidentally spills wine on Aventurine's jacket. He doesn't react at first. But he grows more and more impatient as she tries to clean her mess.

But he got fed up when she literally sat in between the both of you. Who does she think she is? “Excuse me, Miss,„ with a dry chuckle and bright smile, he stands up and walks behind her, “don't you see her?„

Swiftly, almost as if he has always been ready for it, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest. Your face flushes bright red of course, but you don't say anything. “She already holds the string. And compared to you, she doesn't care about my money. So if you please, do not dare to bother us further on her special day.„

He leads you away, and yet, casts them a last glance, “Except if you want to face the consequences, that is. But I doubt you would like it.„

He'd never let anyone makes you feel inferior, nor worthless, and even less when it's supposed to be your day. The day he caters to your every need without any complaint or question.

Upon arriving to a new game, away from those nuisance, he holds your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry, darling. But I promise you, you're the only one in my eyes. The prettiest, the cutest, and the most loveable woman I've ever set my eyes on.„

He'd cherish you. He knows the pain, and he wants to keep you away from it. He struggles at time, but every effort is worth of your smile. Every day is a delight to get home to you, to know you're his, and that he's yours.

That he has a home. A home with you.

☆.｡.:*　❥　-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-　☽　.｡.:*☆

What were you thinking when you first confessed to him? Of course you thought he'd reject you. We're talking about Veritas Ratio. But to your surprise, he accepted! But maybe you should've been careful... He's a teacher.

It isn't uncommon for Veritas Ratio to call you stupid or dumb, because you don't understand something or that you made a mistake on something simple. But you also know he'll always be here for you.

Compared to one of his colleage, he isn't particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, he is completely financially stable, and he won't be anytime soon the type to get ruined. But basically, if you need special teaching in something he doesn't master, he won't hesitate to help you with it.

He can't help but put intellect into a bit everything he does. But he knows it can piss you off at times, especially when it's not the moment for it.

Today, he has a long day. Longer than intended. So you nicely bring him lunch. Yet he requests of you to stay until his break is over. You know he isn't one to care about birthdays, but he does remember them if he is supposed to know them. Yours is no exception.

“I'm going to be home later than usual tonight, but perhaps you have any wish for how we spend our time?„ it isn't often that he lets you so openly choose. But you don't wait more time to ask if you could watch a movie and snuggle. You need nothing more than some rest, and so does he.

Laughers fill the empty classroom, except for the both of you. He knows when to not overdo it, especially with you. He will never admit it entirely, but he doesn't want to risk losing you. He can't. Not when you bring him so much by just existing.

There's a reason why he doesn't want you to be to close to that blonde, don't you think? But it doesn't matter.

In the evening, after you shared dinner, you set on the couch with him, snuggling up. His left hand caressing your side while his right one is holding a pen. Of course he can't only watch a movie, he needs to keep on going with his paperwork. But he doesn't entirely focus on it.

However, from time to time, you'd hear from Veritas that he clicks his tongue. He seems rather.. unpleased. And when you take a look, you don't see anything wrong. “Of course you don't, you're too much of an idiot to realise that student's mistake. What a pity.„

Unfortunately for you, you dared to ask what was the mistake.. and now you're in for a lecture. He sits you up and explains to you, in a rather annoyed tone. It isn't a surprise to say that you both don't even noticed when the movie has finished.

You're about to stand up when he holds you back, pulling you in his lap. “Don't you dare run away from my lecture. You asked to know, so you'll know.„ It promises to be an interesting evening and night, especially if you try to push your luck.

Veritas will make sure you get the appropriate punishment if his patience runs out by the time he's done with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.ೃ࿐

Have you ever imagined he'd steal your heart? A detective by day, a Phantom Thief by night. He earned his title well, he's definitely a prince in your eyes.

“Are you still listening?„ Akechi inquires. You have to admit, you weren't. You were too charmed into his eyes, shining as he shares his day with you.

“I've been thinking, there's an amusement park not far from here. Would you like to go with me?„ he asks. He isn't really scared of asking you on a date anymore. Of course, he couldn't help but feel like he isn't enough at times. But you love him, right? He can't let his insecurities win over.

And so, you are now on a date with him, on your birthday. He cares for a bit everything. He makes sure the sun isn't hitting you too hard, that you drink enough, and especially have fun.

You're the only one lucky enough to see him almost constantly out of his detective prince persona. To know the real him. He has his issues, and sometimes he may snaps at you. But he apologises and proves that he changes. He already does, but he tries to make sure you know he's willing to become better for you.

You're his light, and he can't lose you. At first, he even thought you loved that coffee shop's employee, but he felt lucky when you reciprocated his feelings.

Since then, Akechi would take you out often. To the beach, at restaurant, or even just for a walk. He wants you to know he cares, and he wants you only. He needs to be careful though, but he makes it work out.

Getting into a bit every attractions, he even ends up winning you a teddy bear. No one is ever too old for one after all, right? As he hands it to you, he presses a kiss on your lips, soft and tender, as if he wants the time to stop.

The sun sets slowly, and you get into the Ferris Wheel to end up the day. It's cozy, just the two of you. He holds you close, his nose in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “Happy birthday, my love.„

Why would he need to say anything more? Your heart races, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. No one can mistake that expression on both of your faces. You're so undeniably in love with each other.

“I know I fucked up, especially when you discovered what I've done. But I'll become better. For you, and for us. So please, stay with me.„ he couldn't help but squeezing you tighter against him, as if you won't allow him time.

“I love you. So fucking much.„ he whispers as the sun disappears from view, letting the moon rise slowly. He'll always do his best for you, to be worthy of you.

Because he loves you. And he'll make every birthday from now on special for you.

·:¨༺ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　✮　☄. *. ⋆ ༻¨:·

It took him time to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you. To allow you to see the worst part of him. To see the monster beneath. He was certain he'd lose you. And yet, you're still here, beside him.

William is more than delighted to know you aren't ready to leave him. To know you'll stay. He doesn't entirely understand his feelings himself, but he has them, and that's all that matters.

To say William cares about birthdays is an understatement. He doesn't make big things, but he shows his care for sure. So don't you dare think you'll be an exception.

He has been quite busy lately, but he made sure he'd be here for your birthday. From waking to sleep. He stays in bed with you until you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, the first sight being his blonde locks.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and lets you get ready while he goes preparing breakfast for you. Going downstairs, you smell the sweet scent of food filling your nose.

He serves you, as well as himself, before eating and letting you talk of whatever comes in your mind. He could listen to you all day long, but today wasn't that. He'd spend some quality time with you, no matter what.

He helps you putting on your coat, and holds your hand as you get inside the carriage. He feels your head resting on his shoulder, and he simply caresses the back of your hand with his thumb.

Getting into town, he dismisses the carriage for now. No need for that. He wants you to enjoy the place. If there's something appealing to you, he'll be ready to let you have it. But in the end, he's mostly the one who wants to buy you things.

A beautiful necklace, it'd go perfectly around your neck. Gesturing you to get closer, he carefully puts it around your neck and smiles. “It looks beautiful on you.„ his voice, smooth and quiet, holds so much love. Without hesitation, he buys it for you.

You walk hands in hands, past bakeries and shops, stopping when something would be nice for you. You're definitely spoiled, and it was unexpected for you. You aren't with William for his money, and he knows it. But today, he wants to make sure you'll remember it.

By the evening, inside the carriage to get back home, he lets you rest against him. It has been a tiring day after all, yet so thrilling. But the best was to come in his eyes.

Entering the manor, the living room has been decorated especially for you, a bouquet from Fred's garden waiting as well as a freshly baked cake by Louis. And they were all here too. Well, some like Sebastian aren't so happy, but they could make that effort.

He has planned it all, and it was worth it. For that smile, those happy tears, and those laughers and happiness filling the manor for the rest of the evening.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He has never been much of a talker. Ever since you both met, he mostly listened to you, no matter what you'd say. And he has a great memory too.

Fred is a caring man, he just stays quiet. He doesn't want to be noticed, he likes his tranquility, despite the circumstances of his current work under William. He absolutely adores the idea of being in charge of the garden, though.

He doesn't show it, but he appreciates plants and flowers. And whenever you may search him, you always find him there. He's peacefully repotting some flowers, to make sure they can grow further.

His head snaps up when you ask him if you can help. “Shouldn't you.. be with the others, celebrating your birthday..?„ he's unsure. He looks at you with suspicions, but in the end, he relents. You must have your reasons to not be celebrating it with them.

He loves spending time with you, but he doesn't want you to restrain yourself from having a good time just because he's tending to flowers.

But when he sees you, right here, with a smile as you carefully move a flower, it feels him with joy. He doesn't show his love much, he does it through small gestures like making sure there's always some of your favourite flowers in the bedroom for the scent. Or to stay with you throuhough breakfast.

It's those small gestures that makes you love him even more each day. And you just want to spend time with him, especially today.

He shyly scoots closer to you, to correct you. “You shouldn't be doing it like that.. it can hurt the roots.„ he doesn't scold you, he just tries to teach you.

Yet, he doesn't move away once done. He stays close. Until he gathered the courage to press his lips against your temple. “Happy birthday.„

It's cute, the way he quickly walks away to care for other plants. But you just thank him quietly. The day passes in a blur, and without even noticing, the moon is in the sky, and you're both still in the greenhouse.

He holds you tight against him, the garden not over yet but it's too late to keep working. And he has cut a rose to give you, making sure to also cut the thorns so you can't get hurt.

“We should head back inside, it's getting cold.„ he helps you up, until you're both home. He even helps to wash your hands, in your sleepy state.

He never thought he'd enjoy gardening with someone so much, and yet..

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[kigieri]

Wiser

Fernando Alonso × Reader

A nice birthday breakfast with your favourite person.

A/N: A birthday post for myself! Even though it has already been some time. It's short and sweet, just something I gifted myself. It is really hard for me to capture the way Fernando speaks English. I gave it my best shot.

This story on AO3.

It was nice to be able to celebrate her birthday with Fernando. There was no bad blood over him having to spend this time of year at a racetrack halfway across the world, but it was nice to have him home for it, too. They could celebrate together, and even had the time for a little party with friends and family.

She woke up to Fernando stroking her hair, lightly so as not to wake her. She stretched as much as possible without actually compromising the comfortable position she was in, and stretched her neck towards her lover for a kiss. "Happy birthday, hermosa." His voice was a bit rough from sleep, but she could practically hear him smiling.

After turning around, she laid her head on his chest. "Good morning," She muffled into his chest. A slight chuckle could be heard from him. "Do you want to stand up or stay lying?" She craned her neck to look up at him from her lying position and raised an eyebrow. "Stay."

Fernando nodded, returning to stroking her hair. After laying together for another half hour, they decided it was time to stand up. Fernando made her sit down at the little table in the kitchen. They found it more comfortable than the big one in the living room. He was not fond of cooking and refused to do it most of the time, but for her birthday he scrapped together all the talent he did not have, as she slyly remarked.

A few minutes, and her helping out, later, they had food in front of them. In between, they talked about plans for the winter break and what they had been up to while apart.

"If we're spending Christmas in Spain, should we spend new years at home? I think that would be nice." Fernando nodded, not seeming convinced. "Do you want to go to the Alps?" She looked up from her plate. "You don't like it that cold." He shrugged his shoulders. "I will survive." A smile crept onto her face.

She had wanted to spend new years in the Alps for a few years, but had repeatedly indulged Fernando's, and her own, love for warmth and had returned to sunnier places. Him suggesting, offering even, to spend a week in the high altitudes made her feel giddy.

She took a sip from her cup, smiling silently. They had talked about getting engaged, both thinking that they were far enough into their relationship and secure enough for the next step. This meant that Fernando might plan a proposal, either around Christmas while visiting his family, or over the year change.

"I would like that, if you're really okay with it." Fernando waved his hand. "Can go skiing and cook a lot, will be nice." After that, they continued their breakfast until Fernando looked back at her.

"What do you want to do in the morning?" They had planned a get-together with their friends for the evening, but for now they were free. She shrugged her shoulders. "Just want time with you." All the time they spend together was precious, his career often separating them. "We can stay a bit and then maybe go to the harbour. Maybe drive out a bit." Fernando nodded, always up for a bit of boat driving.

After standing up and refilling their plates from the stove, a mischievous grin took over his face. "How does it feel? One year older?"

She rolled her eyes. "We talked about this, I'm getting wiser. Just as you are." Fernando chuckled lightly. She picked up a bit of food and chewed it before muttering, "And a bit older."

Silence settled over breakfast, broken only by a remark here or there. After they finished, Fernando took on the cleaning duties. She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her chin on his shoulders. "Thank you, this was really sweet."

Fernando shook his head lightly.  "Everything for you, mi vida." He put the plaid he was washing on the drying rag and wiped his hands dry, before turning around in her arms. "On your birthday and every other day, we are together." He leaned in, kissing her. "I love you." It was her instinctual response. The smile on her face was mirrored by the one on his. "Te amo también."

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[reblogandlikes]

Stand on business when you post!

I hate that everytime a newish person says something remotely redeeming about Tamlin they feel the need to make a prefix or use the line of, "I'm not excusing his abuse." The culture has been warped to make them believe this is required.

Like, it's so deeply ingrained that he's the big bad for having his magical accidently explode and trapping Feyre in a house that one time she literally tried to follow him in to a very dangerous situations which would have taken his focus away from his peoples survival and defence, or having the gall to be a bit paranoid with her safety when she was literally being hunted by Hybern (which she even admitted later that Tamlin had been correct) and them both being bad at communication. Oh, and petty name calling because she quite literally fucked everything up, could have compromised him as a double agent and he was rightfully mad.

All that he's done is still not comparable to what Rhysand has done in the name of getting what he wants, even when it comes to belittling his own people (because yes, HC and Illyrians are also his people), yet you never see a prefix about Rhysand. No, dude just gets to live merry in the narrative and fandom because he's the "best." Hell, Feyre and the entire IC have done worse shit than Tamlin, but they get far more leeway due to MC bias.

It's slightly similar with Nesta being viewed as irredeemable, but I'd argue both Tamlin and Nesta have been through and have done enough in these god damn books. They simply receive hate because they are viewed as being directly opposed to the IC, and The Mother knows that's a big no-no.

Those who want to post something about another character not particularly liked, go ahead. I promise you, you're not any of these stupid words some stans tries to insult you as. It's their way of silencing and limiting perceptions and its understandably uninviting/daunting.

But please...

Do your thing.

Go off.

[callmemaeverick]

Gray

Disclaimer: This is pure indulgence okay. It's my interpretation of the Force, my view of the Jedi after ep 8, and my theory of what happened. P/S: pls read tag for TWs

PPS: If you didn’t know yet, Manny did a futuristic Sci-Fi podcast where he voiced a soldier. Theres quite a bit of injury involved.. if you wanna have some auditory aids for his voice and umm.. other stuff. It’s called Marigold Breach, it’s on Apple Podcast, Spotify, Realm and Youtube. (fork, I sound like an ad. Im not being paid I swear) WC: 1.6k

Never before in the time you were intuned with the Force have you felt so lost. So… unbalanced. When normally, tasks and missions were approached in a calm and collected manner, with a clear and peaceful mind, it had since warped into frantic breathing and a thundering heart, engulfed in compromising emotions.

Every sound grated, every jolt of the ship you were flying felt like a quake and you scrambled to keep the small craft stable. You couldn't afford major turbulence, not with him in such a state.

But you went as fast as you could, desperate to get into lightspeed so that all traces of you and your passenger are gone. As far as you could, though you doubt that you would find a corner of the galaxy that could hide you both. They would find you, you know this to be fact. It would only be a matter of time.

Fear threatened to consume you and for once; you were tempted to let it. After what you have seen, after what you have discovered; the teachings of the Jedi no longer seemed as righteous as you once thought it was. You scoffed, feeling stupid. Not once did you ever question your environment or the teachings of the Masters' as you rose through the ranks, from fledgling to Padawan. You took their word as law. After all, they were the Jedi and you wanted to be just like them.

Now, the thought of the Knights you had so venerated left you angry and confused. Hypocrites; all of them. All they wanted was power. Power over the Republic. Power over the Senate. And they had the audacity to condemn those who wanted to keep power for themselves.

Screw them.

xxxx

The planet you randomly chose was amber in colour, ringed with a manageable asteroid belt.

You were never really good at landing. In your impatience, you would misjudge the thrust and would sometimes send the ship careening too fast. And it was always resulted in a bruised chest; and an even bruised ego after the lecture your Master would unleash upon you.

The thought of your Master sent a lance through your heart; but you pushed it away and fought to calm down as you attempted the landing. You had wanted to be gentle, to make it a smooth landing. You managed; barely. The moment you touched down, you were out of the pilot's seat and into the belly of the ship.

He was exactly where you left him on your cot, stomach down. Had you not been so intuned with him, had you not been able to hear his soft breaths, you could have sworn he was dead. He should have been dead.

The memory of what you witness in secret breached your mind. You remembered the shock you had to bite down, the scream you had to swallow when you witness what happened to him.

How could she do that, to her own Padawan.

Shaking your head of the dark thoughts, you pulled out the emergency kit, grabbing saline and gauze and bacta patches into your arms. On your way to him, you also grabbed an IV drip.

The smell of charred flesh turned your stomach and you swallowed to keep nausea at bay as you kneeled by his side. His tunic was in taters, pieces of the material burned and melted onto his skin. Dirt and mud slicked his back, mixing into the red exposed flesh. You choked down a sob. You whispered his name.

A soft groan reached your ears, then a gasp.

"No, no, don't move." You reached for his shoulder, grasping gently, and you could feel the muscles tightening. "Shh… I'm here. It's just me."

Recognition smoothed his features and your name escaped his lips before his eyes fluttered open. His hand lifted but before it could reach your face; his body spasmed and he cried out.

"Fuck," You moved quickly, gently peeling his ruined tunic from his body. The moment you made contact; he whimpered. His body shook with the agony and your heart broke once more. "I know… I know. I'll be quick, I promise." His back was torn violently, almost shredded, and the worst of the injury was where the wounds connect, overlapped. Burnt muscle was exposed, black and red and oozing blood. Apologies fell from your lips like a prayer, begging for forgiveness for what you are about to do. Then, you flushed a gauze pad with saline and as gently as you could, wiped down the dirt.

You worked as carefully as you could, ignoring his cries and sobs. His body tensed then shook then tensed again every time you touched him. "Almost there. I'm almost done," Your voice cracked, the efforts to hold back tears and nausea proving too much.

As the pile of soiled gauze beside you grew; the blood trickled to a stop and finally, you were able to place the bacta patch on him. "This will help, okay." You told him, but he had long since passed out. You were mostly talking to yourself. "It's going to be over soon."

Once the bacta was on, you sat back and finally let your tears fall. He was unconsciousness, but alive. Thankfully alive. Wiping your face with your sleeves, you stood up and finally initiated ground security protocols.

xxxx

Something was approaching. You looked back and all you see was darkness but you kept running.

Exhaustion weighed down on you. It had been days. Fear slithered in your chest, wrapping around your heart, constricting your lungs. Anger and shame flared inside you, threatening to consume.

A crack of lightning, and a snake lunged at you and your back seared in an unimaginable pain. White hot and blazing. You felt your flesh rip and your vision blacked out. And then, cold. Freezing cold.

You ended and you began.

xxxx

The gasp that tore through your throat hurt like a mudscuffer. You blinked, frozen for a few seconds before feeling came back into your limbs.

The thing about Force dreams was that they don't normally show you the good. Most of the time, it was almost always something dark. But a Jedi is supposed to control their emotions, to release one's self and let go. Selflessness, it was the mark of a true Jedi.

Despite you renouncing the Order, you went through the motions of calming yourself down, or reigning in your emotions.

It’s been a few days… or what felt like a few days. The planet cycle is foreign to you and you’ve essentially lost track of time.

You looked over at the other occupant of the ship and sighed heavily. He was twitching as well, in his sleep, something you were familiar with.

You walked over and gently checked on the bacta. It was one of your last supplies but at least it was working. The wound was healing. Scarred… but healing. There will be mobility issues and you doubt if he would ever get his full range of motion, much less the ability to swing a saber again. Still, you wouldn't put it past him. He is as stubborn as you are.

You remembered growing up with him, the both of you in the Academy.

He was strong. Both of you were, but unlike you, he was the nail that stuck out. Where you obeyed, and did as you were told, he questioned everything. Where you hid your true emotions, he was not afraid to let it show.

And you were glad for it. Had he not done what he had done, questioned and researched, poked and prodded, you wouldn't have seen the true face of the Jedi Order. You wouldn't have known that they were just as power-hungry and backstabbing as the rest of the pirates in the galaxy. They just covered it under the guise of the greater good.

But in the end, he was also the one who paid the price.

They did not know you stole a ship and followed them. They did not know you saw them string him up and strip him of his lightsaber.

You heard his terrified pleas but they fell on deaf ears when it came to his Master. And yours.

He was a child, barely 20 years old. You both were, but they did not see him anymore. The pupil they once treasured. In their eyes, he needed to be eradicated. Just because he wanted to draw power from a source that was forbidden to them.

The buzz of an activated saber drew your attention to the lightwhip of Master Vernestra and your eyes widened in shock. Surely, she wouldn't, you thought.

But you were wrong.

All it took was one strike and his scream would haunt your nights for a long time.

You waited until they left. You had to. And once you were sure they were no longer around, you rushed to his side. It was then you decided you were not coming back.

The sound of your name pulled you from your anger and you turned to see him watching you.

"You're causing a quake," He remarked, and the chattering of loose metal around you ceased. You took a deep breath and reigned it in.

You scooted closer to him and leaned in close. You took stock of him. He was pale but at least he was lucid. His dark brown eyes were clear, which was another good sign.

"So… the favored pupil… finally left the nest, huh? Didn't think… you had it in you."

And he was teasing you.

And it broke you. You drank him in like a person obsessed, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. Anger, fear, confusion, relief. And something else you couldn’t name. But they roiled together inside you making tears pool in your eyes and your lips wobble.

"What… What are we going to do?"

His touch on your face and your eyes closed. He was real. He was alive.

"We'll survive." He told you. "We'll survive."

FIN

[georgiapeach30513]

See Through My Eyes, Part 1

Summary: You had reached the point of your life in the last thirty-six years that you were just going to be alone. You were content. Living your happy life with no rules for anyone but yourself. And there was Bucky. And one night. And that was all it took to have your world turned upside down, and it will never be the same again.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, implied sex, slight sexy imagery, I'm a cocktease (get over it 🤭), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Series Masterlist

Left. Left. Hmm.

This is not going to be an easy task. You’re definitely not picky, you just know what you want, and what you don’t want. What you’re willing to compromise, and some things that you most definitely would never even think twice about compromising on. Being single for so long, you have grown to be independent and didn’t actually need anyone in your life. If they were going to be with you, they would have to add to your experience.

Left. Nope. Never. Not in a million years.

Your friend, Zoey’s mouth drops open as your finger continues to swipe left. Left. Left. Throwing her head back in exasperation as you keep flicking left over and over again, and never in the direction she was ready to beg you to flick. Such a fruitless endeavor she’s making you endure. Pointless. These men were — well they weren’t anyone you would go after.

Countless faces that do nothing to excite you. There was absolutely no physical attraction whatsoever. Looks aren’t everything, but you have to be able to look at them. Imagine having that face hovering over you. Sputtering stupid words they think are a turn on, while you just start moaning so they get the fuck off you, and you are left to finish yourself off. Left with hardly any relief, but filled with humiliating shame for the rest of your life. No, thank you.

Oh that one looks smug. Nope.

This one looks high as a kite. Can’t do that.

“Are you even reading their bios?” Ehh, you were skimming them, and that’s if you find something about them you like. You know that Zoey thinks you’re just being a prude or an ass that is there for her humor. But if you were going to do this, why not make it enjoyable? At least walk away with a story to tell that didn’t want to make you hurl.

“A bit,” you hum. “Gross, this one is saying he’s going to give me a good time. How cringe is that?”

Zoey’s eyes narrow, and her lips purse as she stares at you. She’s already annoyed with your antics, and her constant want for you to have what she had. And you are okay with being alone. “What?” You ask her overly dramatic but judging face that you love, but still want to pinch her.

“You’re the one that’s cringe. How do you know?”

“Of all the dating sites you wanted me to use, you chose Tinder. Now, maybe I’m wrong but isn’t this a hookup site?” She just shrugs her shoulders while you continue to swipe left. “How do you want me to have sex with them if I don’t like the way this one looks like he could murder me in my sleep. So do you want me to date or…?”

“I want you to get the stick out that’s shoved so far up your ass. You work with children all day, and go home alone every night, and play with yourself,” you snort as you keep flicking through a few maybes, but mostly a bunch of no’s. “So you just have no sexual drive whatsoever?”

“Sex is more to me than just getting off. I need you to empower my eyes, my mind, control my body without touching me. Make me want you,” sex is sex of course. But you need to feel needy without penetration. The buildup and anticipation should be just as important and amazing as sex itself.

“And you know without a doubt that these men can’t do that to you?”

“Well,” you pause looking through this one’s bio. He was cute, no he was beautiful. Sexy in a rugged kind of way, but a face that looked like it was painted from your imagination as the perfect man. Step one. “First is their look. I do have to be attracted to them, or they’re not getting anywhere close to me with their dicks.”

You are very attracted to this one. He’s in construction. Muscles rippling, sweat dripping down his neck. But in his bio he is a bit of a nerd even adding a corny joke ‘How do construction workers usually party? They are always known for raising the roof.’

You giggle, flipping through more of his photos. He is doing it right, they’re just of him. No guesswork as to which one he is, and he has a pretty smile. Pretty and smart, even if he had dad jokes, and you’re sure there’s more than just that one. Not exactly empowering your mind, but he got your attention. And being cute and sweet was a part of being sexy.

But that last photo of him — he is one hundred percent bonafide beyond sexy, incredibly handsome man. He looks tired in this photo, maybe even a bit sad. His hands are in frame, and why is the fact that they’re dirty turning you on? Sweat drenched shirt, so it’s sticking to him, and leaving nothing to the imagination. But it isn’t what you would call the normal thirst trap. No this is designed to hit your every fantasy. And it does. Just looking at his picture gives you the most vivid dreams of him. Is that wrong?

Maybe a fictional man can exist. At least for one night. You could completely have a one night stand with him. Could find yourself daydreaming that a one night could be more, and could turn in to the most perfect love song that no one had even written yet.

Yes, this man could be the one that you would consider wrecking all your plans of being single forever. You could have fun with this man, but only if he matched with you. Oh, you didn’t think this through. At the very least you had a picture to add to your spank bank. Back to the point of this being normal to have sexual fantasies of people in your real life? Someone you could quite possibly run into eventually?

How could you even react? This is the man that you had pictured in every one of your romance novels that you drooled over every night claiming that there is a reason that fictional men are superior and that’s because men sucked. Women could never be enough. Your boobs are too big, they’re not big enough. Your hair is too short, and now it’s too long. They like a woman that doesn’t wear a ton of makeup, but they want you to look like a Kardashian.

Everything men say is a contradiction. Everything they want doesn’t add up. There’s holes in this plot, and it just makes absolutely no sense. And now you’re rambling in your head as your best friend stares widely at you, and you place your phone in your lap looking at her.

“You totally found a good looking man and your brain just went wild with different scenarios that could happen, but doesn’t mean that it will happen. Am I correct?” This is the problem with having a best friend. They just knew.

“Shut up.”

“Just swipe right, and put yourself out of your misery. You are so picky,” yes you are, but she didn’t have to call you out on being picky.

“I’m not picky. I’m very selective, and I’d rather be alone than settle. I don’t need sex,” she reaches to grab your phone, but you’re quicker. “I did swipe right. That is what you’re supposed to do right? What — Zo! What if I swiped left thinking it was no, and it was on all those guys except the one man that I wanted. Am I supposed to swipe right when I want him?” Your heart starts to race as you think of the possibility that all the men you found repulsive are the ones that you liked.

“Swiping right is correct. And judging by this whole meltdown you just did, you do in fact need sex,” you puff out a bit of air as you collapse on your couch. This is exhausting. You are going to give yourself an aneurysm if you continue at this rate. Why does everything seem so stressful? Dating in your thirties sucked. And not the good kind of suck.

And don’t try to judge yourself because you took a screenshot of that last photo. You weren’t going to do anything with it, but just look at it, so tonight when you were reading about a faerie king you had a face to put with his name. It’s that simple and that’s all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

You take a glance down at your phone, mouth going agape as you read the notification. All of that nonsensical blubbering and worrying about how you were going to most definitely be alone forever, and you accepted that. But now the most beautiful man you have ever seen in your life just matched with you.

“Um, Zo?” She can tell by the stunned look on your face, and your lack of words the onslaught on emotions and thoughts what happened.

“I’m booking the waxing immediately. We’ll go pick you out a new outfit, and you need fresh new lingerie. Is he cute?” You sit stock still, and refusing to even open your phone, just stare at the notification. Men did not find you attractive in a sexual way. And if they did, they never acknowledged it. You could flirt with the best of them, but all it got you was a free upsized fries. Or a free matcha, which you are positive was made before you, and they just never picked it up. So it was completely accidental.

Could this amazing looking man with his cute bio have made a mistake in his swipe? Maybe he thought that right was a no. He just got confused like you did.

I did have something planned, but it feels wrong. So can I say your beauty is so enchanting that it made me forget my pickup?

What the hell is this? You’re dreaming. This cheesy and corny man messaged you. So it wasn’t a mistake, you’re just living in a fantasy world where men like him talked to women like you. The lies you’ve made up in your head have made you crack. You are not a woman that can travel through time. Nope, you are a kindergarten teacher, and he was a fine as fuck man who matched on Tinder with you. On purpose.

“What the fuck do I even say?”

“Dinner?” Zoey starts laughing. Your friend loves to watch you squirm, but this isn’t what’s happening, you are trying to make this make any form of sense. It doesn’t. There is no way that this man meant to do that.

I think I’ve done something wrong.

Or are you online?

Ignore these messages. Maybe I made a mistake.

No! He didn’t make a mistake. ‘Sorry, I was trying to get away from my company. What mistake could you have made?’ God, that line was so cheesy. Just bury yourself in the sand and never emerge. This man is going to think you’re an absolute idiot. What the hell.

Your throat tightens up as you wonder exactly what he could be thinking. Does he think you’re as big a loser as you feel right now? Or is he already going, never mind, she’s not worth the time? And isn’t it just sex? Is Tinder more than that? Surely it is, even if the people have made it into a hookup site.

Good. You wanna have some dinner this Friday?

Yes.

Good. Perfect. Amazing.

Okay.

No, I mean thank you.

I’d enjoy that.

My dating etiquette is really rusty.

No worries. So is mine.

That was excruciating. Ouch, you hurt from the embarrassment. But dinner. There’s dinner in your future. “I need a new dress and lingerie. Forget the waxing. Let’s go.”

Bucky winces as his daughter, Isolde, runs down the hallway screaming. He looks at his best friend, Steve, and he shakes his head. “She’s on crack.”

“No. No, she was just at her mother’s,” Kenton. The bane of Bucky’s existence. She came around maybe twice a year. And of course wanted to insert herself the past weekend because it was Izzy’s birthday. “She’s got no raising at Ken’s. If…I’d like full legal custody of Izzy, but until then I play fucking nice.”

“Daddy said a bad word! I’m telling my teacher,” his cherub faced daughter runs into the living room before disappearing just as quickly. She was in love with her teacher. Bucky was thankful for his parents, and only slightly annoyed he didn’t have time to meet her.

“What is Miss Bambi doing?” Steve screams down the hallway, and Izzy steps back out of her room, shaking her head no. “What?”

“Fawn. Miss Fawn. Deer are her favorite animals, and she said Bambi was already taken. I am the chameleon of the classroom. And Jacob is the penguin,” she covers her mouth giggling as she runs back into her room, and Steve twists his head towards Bucky so fast. He’d have to talk to her about this Jacob.

“Each kid has a nickname, don’t ask questions. They love it. If Izzy wants to be a little lizard…”

“Daddy! I need a pet chameleon!” Hearing another loud bang, both men’s eyes go wide, and they turn towards her room.

“I can’t be responsible for her,” Steve shakes his head, “Why not wait until she gets a bit more acclimated to being home again? Are you just going to let her destroy her room?”

“She didn’t like the present her mom got her, and asked if she could break it,” Steve gives his friend a weird glance, chuckling when Isolde starts to evil laugh.

“I taught her that,” Steve beams proudly at his goddaughter, “What is so important?”

“A date.”

“Come again?”

“A. Date.”

“Bucky Barnes! Is this from Tinder? Wait, that’s why you want me to watch her at my house? You dog. You dirty little bastard! You’re finally going to get you some? This is great.”

“Number one,” Izzy runs back into the living room, and stands in front of her uncle, wagging a finger at him, “I’m telling my teacher you said a bad word. Number two, what does daddy need to get besides pizza?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m getting you. Go — do whatever evil little master plan you’re doing with your toy, and I’ll order pizza. Because daddy needs to get some — pizza,” he steps in front of his friend shaking his head. This was a bad mistake. Not because of you, but because Steve was going to make a bigger deal out of this than he was ready for. It wasn’t anything major. It was his yearly time to get out there to see if dating was worth it, and it rarely was.

Too many games, and too much time. At least with Tinder there didn’t seem to be any confusion on how the evening would go. A bit of dinner, laughs, fun, and…you go home? He takes you to his home? He goes to your place, and sneaks off? No, that’s rude. He offers to call a cab? Wait, how are you and him going to get to wherever you are going?

“I don’t feel good.”

“Ahh! No! Not all women are like Ken. They are not all evil bitches that like to use your daughter as a bargaining tool. They are not all her. Don’t you dare put your issues with one woman on another one. You may have fun, you know?”

“Steve! I’m telling Miss Fawn you said two bad words!”

He is just as nervous and awkward as you, and you sigh in disbelief. Legitimately laughing at his corny jokes, and when he smiles, the nervous knot in your belly loosens up, but a warm tingling remains. The restaurant is small and cozy, and he is a delight. He doesn’t turn you off, in fact…

Oh yeah, he’s hitting all your spots. Everyone of them. Amazing to look at. First step with attraction. The way his face lights up when he talks and tells a joke, he’s not faking. His sweet little giggle, and nose scrunch make your body all fuzzy and giddy. All these different adjectives to describe the buzzing in your brain feels almost dizzying, and you welcome it. No, you want to pull into your body and keep it with you forever.

Well, until the morning comes and you imagine for the rest of the weekend about what it would be like if Bucky wasn’t a man that was going to eventually disappoint you, and that it could truly be real and true love. And you live happily ever after, which of course you know is a lie because men just don’t like you like that.

And the man is smart, and well traveled. Talking about how he spent his twenties moving around for work, and enjoyed every second of not being tied down. You suppose that is a positive and something you should have done more in your life. But now, he’s somewhat settled. You don’t even know what the ‘somewhat’ part means. But you like to look at him. Looking at him feels wet, and you would completely be ashamed to admit that out loud.

And he even casually and occasionally touches you. You’ve seen how dirty his hands get, but they’re clean now. And warm. And strong, and when he talks with his hands a waft of his sexy, clean and fresh cologne invades your senses, and you’re a goner.

Oh oh, when he leans towards you, whispering something in your ear, and his lips touch your neck just the tiniest bit, and your insides light on fire. That was definitely not an accident, and you want to devour every touch of his petal pink lips. You’re so deprived of actual touch that this was all it took, and you are a simpering fool for this man.

Your pupils turn into a black pool of lust. Nearly trembling from the vibrating that his scent has your body doing. You’re ready to place yourself in his lap allowing him to feel your pulsing heat, while the other patrons of the restaurant be damned. His body scoots closer to you, and you feel his own buzzing radiating onto your skin. Thankfully you’re not alone. He’s fully aware of what’s happening, and he wants it, too. One night can’t hurt.

His hands finds a home on your thigh and he rubs up and down. Up and down. Each time getting higher, and dipping lower between your legs. Up and down. Lick the annoying tick of a metronome, and the tempo speeds up. You feel like you’re going to explode as an odd pleasure courses through your body. Going to come undone right here in front of these people.

Whimpering out his name when he leans into your neck, “Without sounding too forward...”

“My place?” Fuck. Well, aren’t you just the eager beaver? Men don’t like when you’re too forward. They want a lady, until they’re ready to pounce, and then you bend to their every whim and let them use your body as your plaything. You would like to be treated as a play thing. That actually sounds nice to give someone else the control over your pleasure and not just tapping the button on your battery operated boyfriend. Power tool.

“Okay,” he says enthusiastically. Looking over the table as he adds up the amount before he lays down a few bills. “We are — how do I say this?”

“I want you to fuck me like you own me.”

“Good.”

Good? Oh god this man is going to have you turned inside out, and wiping drool off the floor. No, he’ll probably have you licking the floor. Sweet Jesus. Maybe Zoey was right. You need a real man with real hands and a real touch.

And a real reality check. You sigh, leaning your head back on your shoulders as you run your hands down your front. That man changed your life forever. You’ll never forget that man, or apparently get back in touch with him. You’re sure there’s some stupid excuse as to him deactivating his Tinder. And maybe a decent excuse. But that left you here. Alone. With twenty-three five year olds.

Alone. All alone. It is what you wanted after all. Well, this part of your life you didn’t see coming or planned on it but it is what it is. Alone.

That word used to sound like a dream, and now it is the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Irritation of how one night of fun could make one’s life change so rapidly, while also you were open and ready for the changes.

It’s a moment of thinking your life would be one way, you were comfortable with your life of solitude. Accepted the life that was laid out before you as a thirty-five year old woman. Of course, everything did not happen according to your plan of life when you were a child, but you had come to the realization that it was your life, and you were okay with it.

And then there was Bucky. He made you realize some personal things. That you were a woman with needs, and you were a woman that was desired. Although not desiring more than that one night did do something to your fragile ego. That is not something you were ready to come to terms with. Nor the frustration, confusion, and yet clarity that came from that connection.

“Miss Fawn!” You look towards the student that was left. Her chubby little cheeks try to smile at you, but she is worrying away at her lip. “Do you think they forgot about me?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” you offer a smile, sitting in your chair, and you tap your lap. “Come on, we’ll wait together. The office has called someone to get you, okay?”

Her face turns up into a forced smile, but she walks over to your lap all the same. Crawling up, and laying her head on your shoulder. You look down at her a bit odd. She didn’t normally get too touchy with you, but clearly she was scared about being forgotten. “You’re tired and want to go home.”

“I’ll go home once someone gets you. I’ll always stay behind.”

“You’re nice. Next year can I have you as my teacher, too,” you brush back her flyaway hairs, but shake your head no. She is sweet. Adorable even. She is one of the more enthusiastic children in your class. “Why not?”

“Because, you’ll move up to first grade,” the sad reality of being a kindergarten teacher is seeing them so young and scared, and then they turn into these balls of energy, and they actually like you. But you have to set them free to another teacher. It is cruel in ways.

“Will I still be a chameleon?”

“Oh, honey, if that’s what you want your nickname to be,” she gives you a pretty little smile before she starts picking at her dress. Her little fingers convey the anxiety she has bubbling inside of her and waiting for them to calm with any familiar face to walk through the door.

“My mom hasn’t called since my birthday,” she rarely mentioned her mom, and it leaves you wondering what the best approach would be. If you were in her shoes what would you want an adult to say? But you’ve never been in her shoes. Your parents were miraculously still in love and still together. Freaks of nature.

They couldn’t understand how and why you were where you are in life. Your decision, your life. Leave you alone. And that’s how they had to approach you nowadays.

“Izzy, baby, I’m sorry,” that damn voice. You could feel the whispers on your skin as Bucky’s fingers entwined with yours. His whole weight on you as he slowly pushes into your body.

His sweaty forehead presses against your own as he begs, ‘Give me one more time, gorgeous.’ You lost just how many one more times you actually had. No one had ever made you feel so engrossed in pure pleasure quite like Bucky did that night. And he can nonchalantly walk around like that? Still sweaty and dirty from working and still fine as fuck. And thinking he can come in here and you not feel something. It’s just your cunt that feels it.

“Oh,” he stops halfway towards his daughter when he realizes that it was you whose lap she was sitting in, “Hey,” he struggles to get out your name, and the fucker scratches his head trying to look away. Was he really going to waltz into your classroom and act like that? Like nothing happened. But you have him stunned. Good. That’s what you’ve felt since that night.

You were already a bit irritated that Isolde was his daughter. You never saw that man cross the threshold of the school. It was always her grandparents that picked her up. “Daddy, this is Miss Fawn. I told you that you would like her. You’re doing that weird thing with your fake hand,” his left hand not so casually dips into his pocket, and you cock up an eyebrow.

Liked you? Liked you and then removed his profile from Tinder. What kind of ridiculous nonsense was this?? Izzy jumps off your lap, and runs to her dad, and he adorably picks her up for a sweet kiss before putting her on his hip. And your heart aches.

No! Don’t you dare find him being a dad cute. It hurts. Seeing him be a dad stings and pangs, and makes you want to hurl your guts out. Something that thankfully you haven’t done for a few hours. Standing up from your chair, you turn to go grab her things.

The room isn’t silent, but you hear it. Hear the giant gulp that Bucky takes as he sees you from the side. “Miss Fawn is having a baby. How far along are you now?”

You remember that night like it had just happened. How he had literally picked you up and told you how you were going to be positioned for him. How every bit of your body lit up with his ministrations. And the way that he made sure that more than just your cunt was stimulated. You even remember exactly how many days ago it was. It helped with determining how far along you were.

“I’m four months. You shouldn’t worry about that though. I won’t have the baby until school lets out. So what is your fact of the week?” Bucky is a frozen little bastard. You swear you can see his calculator working out exactly how long ago that was. Protection scmection. He had to have super sperm. Maybe you didn’t use your pills just right, but a condom was fucking involved. And even the way he took that shit off was sexy.

You could write poetry on how he pulled off the rubber, keeping his eyes on you while you gaze at his member, wondering how it fit inside of you. And with too much ease, he ties the protection up, tossing it in your garbage, and he still got back in the bed, and he still held you. His lips couldn’t stop kissing over your sweaty skin, and you were so high with euphoria you couldn’t remember his name.

Asshole.

He had to have one flaw. His? Sperm that could penetrate anything, and the ability to disappear.

“Oh, oh! Chameleon actually means ground lion,” you crinkle your nose as you smile at her, handing Bucky her things, and hoping that his parents pick her up tomorrow.

“Daddy, can we go to Miss Fawn’s baby’s birthday shower?” Her chubby little hand presses against his cheek, and she forces him to look at her, and not you any longer. He was part of making this baby, but you didn’t need him. If he wanted to ghost you, he could. You had savings. You had your own place. You had the space. And you didn’t need Bucky Barnes.

You just still really really want him. And only a small part of you wanted him to make you whine as he rails into you. “Baby shower, Izzy. And I don’t think I need students coming. How about when you get home you show your daddy the book you made about chameleons?”

“Have…you’ve always been her teacher?” He’s observant.

“Mhmm,” this is so awkward. Could he just go already? You didn’t need him to gawk at your swollen belly where his donation was growing. You were getting to the point you were going to shout in front of his daughter that he knocked you up, but you didn’t need him. Or his money. If he didn’t want to be in your life, who cares? Definitely not you, and your romantic ideas. Or even just the thought of having him again. No! Stop that. Hormones. It definitely wasn’t your body betraying you as it craved Bucky’s touch, and his cock.

“I…I should call,” no, he should leave you alone. Just like he did four months ago.

“You don’t have my number.”

“I deleted the app. And then realized I didn’t have your number, and then couldn’t remember my login information, and,” he takes a deep inhale, and your mushy hormonal brain can’t handle this information. You were in no way ready to process whatever the hell he was saying because he didn’t have a stupid excuse. It was an excuse, but it made sense. “I…I have so many questions.”

“The answer is yes. And your daughter is with you. Maybe you should set up a parent/teacher meeting. My school email is on the website. Have a good evening Mr. Barnes,” he doesn’t want to leave, but he looks at his daughter, and back to you with a nod. And you’re left with conflicting feelings on what the hell that just was.

Sure, maybe you could have tried harder, but you just thought he wanted to fuck once and be done, so you gave him that out. But after all those years of wanting children, and thinking it wouldn’t happen, you looked at this like a blessing in disguise. But…what was that? So much was said, and nothing was said all at the same time.

Maybe you didn’t have to be alone.

And maybe you didn’t have to have a fantasy of an impossible man when there was something between you and Bucky. At least your body still thinks so.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @lecliff037 @w1nter-wolf-barnes1 @distractingbeth

[a-doubleh-x]

Why I like Charlastor

The other day I noticed there was some negativity in the Charlastor tag, including antis and people feeling the need to defend against antis, so I thought I might as well take a step back and just write candidly about why I like the ship.

I only got into Hazbin in October of last year, but already it has inspired me a lot to write and fantazise about it. Like most people, I started with the classic "they look cute together", but as I kept looking I couldn't help but think there was something else to these two than first met the eye.

For starters, I love Pollyanas! I think they get a bad rep for being naive, but I just appreciate an optimist like Charlie who just wants to make people around her happy because it makes her happy. I also like bad boys 😳 I'm a pretty heteronormative guy, so I haven't had a big chance to explore that part of myself yet, but I do like the danger and excitement someone like Alastor brings to the table.

I will admit when I started writing Charlastor I felt like I was handling dynomite. It's a lil scary to ship a boundless altruist with a manipulative sociopath, but bear with me.

I think each of them has something the other needs. I think Charlie needs someone to challenge her, someone to steer her in the right direction while she's mostly isolated. At the start of the series, practically nobody but Vaggie takes her seriously, and Alastor is no exception. He mocks her, teases her, but she still listens and I think it's because somewhere deep down she understands there's something he's trting to communicate in his annoying, but curious way.

Of course, I also love the fanon Charlie who's down bad for Alastor, and even if that Charlie is a little naive, I think it's also sweet and she can use some indulgence while most people treat her like a child.

On the other hand, when it comes to Alastor, this is a bit of a theory on my part, but I think he's secretely lonely. He has friends, certainly, like Rosie and Mimzy, but they're not good enough friends to live together with him. They don't seem to be able to save him from "pure, absolute boredom". But Charlie, for some reason can, even though she's a stranger at the beginning when Alastor chooses to move into the Hotel.

Alastor is not as much of a cynic as someone who chooses to see things in a perspective that benefits him. He doesn't think redeeming sinner is "hopeless", but "hilarious" instead, which has interesting implications to me. That's why he chooses to hover around Charlie, not because he thinks she's lame, rather because he thinks she's silly. She makes him laugh. Which I think is kind of how Alastor sees "love".

And then you have fanon Alastor who, depending on the writer, is either a horny animal, a wisecrack edgelord or a soft boy who's mean to everyone but Charlie XD I like several of those interpretations, but I kinda prefer mine just out of personal taste. I think the best part about Alastor is that he doesn't *care* what anyone thinks of him and always does what he wants, even at the expense of other people, which I find pretty enviable.

They're kinda both outcasts in their own ways. Charlie by being unable to fit in and Alastor being unwilling to compromise. But they don't judge each other. He supports her in his own weird way and she houses him and is delighted of him in general, which is tasty food for his ego. I do wonder why Alastor is interested in Charlie, both in canon and in a fandom vacuum.

There's some cool potential for drama there, but also growth and healing, in my opinion. Personally, I think Alastor doesn't want to actually *hurt* Charlie, but he may hurt those around her, which will be a moment to start settling compromises if Charlie puts her foot down.

That haz bin my review so far! I'm honestly pretty grateful for Vivziepop for all of the work she's done so far, I know directing, animating and writing two shows over the course of 5 year or so ain't easy. I'm also grateful to the fandom who shares their thoughts and vision, which calms the terrible voices I started hearing in my head since I bought this weird old radio.

I'm in the middle of a break, but if you're interested in my fanfics I'll get back to writing very soon. Cheers! 🌈❤🦌

[russellsppttemplates]

Oscar loving on his girl after she’s done 4 long shifts in a row like super fluffy and cute

Note: this is a sneak peak of the plot I ended up choosing for Oscar, thank you anon who suggested it!

"I barely resemble a human", you said over the phone as you walked back to the house, Oscar on your earbuds as he wanted to keep you company on your way to his place since he had a meeting that finished as you were five minutes away. Even though he wanted to walk up to meet you, you reassured him you would be fine walking the distance left to his apartment.

"It's a good thing I have a nice bath ready for you then", he smiled over the phone, "I also have some skincare bits the lady in Boots said were good, and then a body oil that smells really nice, so hopefully you'll feel a little more human after them", he said.

Taking four long shifts at the physiotherapy studio and clinic wasn't your usual routine, but when the opportunity rose with the possibility of having free weekends and a few days off to spare, you thought about the race weekends you'd like to fly out to see Oscar race and it seemed a good compromise to make. Sure, you felt exhausted, but it would all work out and come together in the end. Oscar knew that much so he always tried his best to be supportive and soothe you as much as he could.

"That's sounds great - I'm at the door already", you said as he rang you in, opting to take the elevator up and knock on his door.

He opened the door in his comfy clothes, "hey, sweets", he smiled, pulling you closer to him so he could kiss your lips, humming when you deepened it, "I love you, but the bath is calling for me", you mumbled against his lips as you let your backpack fall on the floor.

"Can I undress you?", Oscar questioned, doing so when you verbally consented before be helped you into the water, "you don't want to get in?", you asked, "I'm staying here", he said as he sat next to the bath, "Good, thank you, handsome", you smiled as you let your body relax, muscles soothing and unwinding after the past busy days.

"And do you remember that case I told you about the skater? We were so worried about her hip but so far she's done such amazing progress surgery might even be off the table now!", you sighed, "I love this job so so so much, but it's so tiring sometimes".

Helping you out of the bathtub, Oscar wrapped the towell around you, grabbing the bottle of body oil so he could rub the product onto your skin, "the lady said it works best when the skin is still damp", he said as he rubbed the product, "do you want me to do your back?", he asked and you nodded, walking to the bedroom so you could lie on his bed, tummy down as he worked on your shoulders, "going this way, I might steal your job someday", he chuckled, "going to cover your shifts so you don't have to work as hard to be able to come see me", he mumbled, "i love you, sweets, I'm so grateful for all you do for us", he kissed your skin, going from the nape of your neck to your jaw.

"I'm going to get your pyjamas from the dryer", he muttered, giving you time to put on fresh underwear and sort out your hair in the towell, "they're nice and warm, like you like them".

Humming in satisfaction at the feeling of the warm fabric on your skin, you got dressed and followed him to the living room, "I thought we could eat here since it's comfier", he said, gesturing you to sit down as he got the plates from the kitchen.

"Thank you for this, baby", you said, kissing his lips again, "this is wondeful", you took the fork and grabbed a little bit of everything in your plate, "wait until you see the pie I have for dessert then", he nudged as your eyes beamed and a little squeal left your lips.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[freesia-writes]

Ch 28: Party Hard and...

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.1k Author's Note: Time for it to hit the fan a bit. Hunter's just not having a great time. At least he's trying? Oh boy. Remember, kids, when you’re faced with a difficult situation, you can pause and respond intentionally or you can react without thinking. 😉

Couldn’t resist releasing this one early. Happy Saturday!

THIS SONG IS THE PERFECT VIBE; I'd suggest starting it halfway through (I'll mark it below): David Guetta & Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) [Official Music Video] (youtube.com)

.

Luci’s gigantic floppy hat nearly hit Hunter in the face for a third time as they made their way into the transport station. It was perched on the side of the island, with equal access to a small landing pad as well as docks below, providing passage by air or by sea depending on the destination. After purchasing their tickets, they wandered down the stairs to the boats, scanning the numbers to find the right one. There were only a few routes available – one to each of the nearby islands – and Plata was by far the most popular destination. 

Wind ruffled his hair as the sound of engines grew louder, and Hunter looked up to see the shuttle coming in for landing. It was the same one he’d taken to Keytoll, and he squinted at it harshly as though the ship itself were to blame for all the strife he’d experienced. Something caught his eye, though, as it turned and settled onto the landing platform – a small tracking beacon stood out against the otherwise dull and dingy hull of the shuttle. The shiny little dome-shaped piece reflected the sunlight from its perch beneath one of the lateral wings, hidden to the casual onlooker. His brow furrowed, old habits kicking in as he wondered who put it there and for what reason. Hundreds of people had taken the shuttle to and from various places since he and Lyra had been on it; he was undoubtedly being paranoid to think it had something to do with them. But still…

“Time to go!” Luci’s bright voice called him back to the present as she took his arm and pulled him into motion. Her sundress fluttered in the breeze, and she entwined her fingers with his, coaxing him on with an affectionate gaze as they walked along the dock. They boarded the boat to Plata, tucked into some seats at the rear, and then they were off, skimming across the waves and leaving the weight of the world behind.

* * * 

“I am not wearing that!” Hunter laughed, giddy from a delicious dinner and the bottle of liquor they continued to share as they had returned to their hotel room. “You already got your way with the hair.”

“Come onnnn,” Luci insisted, waving at him like a flag. “You’ll fit right in.”

“I don’t want to fit in with that!” he protested, taking a swipe at it but missing as she jerked it out of his reach.

“Well then you can just go naked!”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you,” he said, slurring his words a tiny bit. 

“I mean, yeah!” she giggled, throwing her hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, we’ll compromise. Just wear the shirt. Keep your stupid jeans.”

“It’s not even a shirt!” he complained, shaking his head with a dumb grin on his inebriated face. 

“Just put it on so we can go,” she said, exasperated. She began to tug his shirt up and over his head, biting her lip at the way his hair scattered across his face once the shirt was free of his arms. A few fingers traced across his chest and stomach, and with just a look in those emerald eyes, he was drawn in for a kiss. When she released him, she pushed the “shirt” into his hands with a mischievous smile. “Go on.”

“This is beyond ridiculous,” He muttered, pulling it on and staring at her in disbelief. 

“You look sexy!” 

“I can’t…” 

“Ssshhhhh,” she pressed a finger to his lips, then stepped back and took another swig from the liquor bottle before handing it to him. He followed suit, set it on the counter with a loud clank, then turned to look at the tiny mirror on the back of the hotel room door. 

“Son of a Hutt…” 

His reflection stared back at him, almost unrecognizable. He was mercifully still wearing a plain pair of jeans, but that was where the common garb ended. Luci had pulled the top half of his hair into two slightly crooked little tufts atop his head and, once they were secured with rubber bands, had tied his bandana in its usual place below them. The “shirt” she’d insisted on looked like a fishing net. In fact, he was fairly certain it was made from a fishing net. There was a faint sense, somewhere deep inside, that he was embarrassed, or should be embarrassed… But it was quieted as Luci spun him around to face her. 

“Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Fanart by @that-salmonberry-punk

.

Music blared from each doorway they passed as they pushed through the crowds in downtown Plata. Much like Xylo, the island was small enough to have only one main town, but Plata was broad and flat, with tall buildings stacked neatly beside each other from end to end. It was tiny compared to Xylo, yet far more densely populated and full of art, culture, and nightlife. Luci’s outfit seemed as ridiculous as his own, and yet she strutted with full confidence. She’d opted for a pair of low-rise, baggy black pants with stripes down the sides and some kind of cropped moto jacket that hung open. Beneath that was just… underwear, as far as he could tell – a bright red bra and strappy thong that came up above the waistband of her pants that barely clung to her hips. But she’d insisted it was a proper outfit, and at that point he was a bit too tipsy to care.

She found an alleyway off the main street, pulling him into it and beaming at him from dewy, flushed cheeks. It was a warm and humid night, and the sheer number of people crammed into one area did nothing to help the claustrophobic vibe. But the temporary relief of quiet and darkness in the alley was a welcome reprieve, and Hunter exhaled, starting to run a hand through his hair before hitting the spiky little pigtails. Luci laughed, straightening them with playful little tugs, and she tickled his nipples where they poked out from his netted shirt. 

“What the kriff are we doing?” Hunter muttered, eyelids rather heavy as he regarded her with rummy fondness.

“Having fun. Plain and simple,” she answered with a shrug, tugging her red top down a bit to plump up her cleavage. Hunter was overwhelmed as it were, and when she gave them an extra little jiggle, laughing at the way his eyebrows shot up, he was about ready to call it a night. 

But Luci had other plans.

“I thought we might start the night off right…” she purred, biting her lip as her eyes roved from his recently-firmed abs to his broad, shapely chest. “If you’re interested…” He watched curiously as she produced a small capsule from her pocket, opening it to reveal some nondescript pills. “These are nifty little things… Basically, they bring you fully into the moment. It’s like you’re totally yourself, totally present… And you don’t remember any of it the next day.”

Hunter balked at that, jerking his chin down in scrutiny. “That sounds… scary.”

“Don’t you wish you could forget, sometimes?” she asked, somewhat profound all of a sudden. “To just press pause on all of life and enjoy each minute?”

“I mean, yeah, but not remembering…?”

“It doesn’t make you do anything crazy. I think it just releases who you are, at the core. Without inhibitions. Without all the pressures and expectations of everyone else. Just you… and me… and a night to be free.” She shrugged, taking a pill and showing him how it melted on her tongue. “You can try just one – it will just be mild… if you want.” 

He watched her put another one into her mouth, feeling equally apprehensive and enticed. Out of the blue, Lyra’s face flashed across his mind, causing an immediate revolt from all his senses at once. Something inside of him felt odd, as though it were slashing through thick vines and roots to try to free itself. But it felt foreign, too… distinctly “other”. It was a tumultuous sensation, almost beyond his control, and he found that he did not like it one bit. 

He took one of the pills, sniffing it out of habit before swallowing it without further question. 

Luci smiled.

SONG TIME: David Guetta & Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) [Official Music Video] (youtube.com)

She pushed him until his back was flush against the wall, head spinning and heart racing. Her hands were heavy on his chest, his neck, his cheeks... She cupped his face with fervent desire, gazing affectionately into his eyes before closing her own, tilting her head, and pressing her lips to his. 

Her hands began to roam again, stroking and caressing, pulling feelings and yearnings and urges from him that had been dormant for so long until she’d awakened them. An initial resistance welled up, adding to the constant confusion, but it was soon diminished beneath her passion as she kissed him again and again. 

Heat flushed Hunter's body from head to toe, and he opened up to her, his fingers gripping her waist as he leaned in. A feminine, breathy sigh escaped her as the intensity grew, their faces pressed together, lips caressing and tugging. She opened her mouth more, sliding her tongue against his, and tingles coursed through his veins as he met her fervor with his own, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and losing himself to the ardor growing in his core. He didn’t notice the already-melting pills she’d moved from her mouth to his as she continued to ravish him.

She ran a hand up the back of his neck, digging it into his hair and tightening her grip, pulling back for a moment to regard him with unbridled lust. "You are so kriffing hot, you know that? Damn, the things I want to do to you..." she murmured, heavy-lidded eyes following the contour of his face as he opened his eyes to meet hers, smoldering with intensity. 

A small smile curved her cheeks, and she bit her lip before leaning in again. He was reeling from the sheer overwhelm of it all -- her scent, her breath, her body, her sensuality, her uncomplicated want for him. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Freedom from responsibility, freedom to pursue a future of his own, freedom to release the burden of every possible consequence and to simply enjoy life on life's terms...

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, his muscles tensing against her touch and fanning the flame where her fingernails gently raked up toward his chest. Soft lips trailed to his jawbone, below his ear, down the side of his neck, setting him on fire inside and out. Hunter tilted his head away, feeling her consuming desire spreading through his own chest. He felt as though he were spinning in place; every taste, scent, touch, and sound was amplified and improved.

This was what he had wanted. This was the right choice. 

Wasn't it? 

* * * 

Fanart by @clownbloody

.

Stairs, so many stairs. Luci’s voluptuous curves moving ahead of him in serpentine mystery. Loud music and flashing lights. The rhythm thumping inside his chest. Bodies jostling against one another, loose and free. Weaving through the crowd, laughter and liquor and sweat and salt all blending into the beat. 

Deep green eyes finding his. Gentle arms around his neck. Her hips in his hands. Her breath and pulse melding into his. The music was what moved him; he was just a willing participant. Everyone was together and yet separate. Blending in seamless surrender to hedonistic folly.

He chased Luci along a side street, stumbling as people leapt out of the way. The cold night air burned his lungs, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body until he plunged into water beside her. They floated on their backs in a large fountain, surrounded by music and laughter. Lights flashed from a nearby rooftop party, and the next thing he knew, they found themselves there. 

A sparkling disco ball scattered beams of light across the area, refracting every color into splintered shards of rainbow on people’s faces, drinks, chests, and backs. A tall Twi’lek with a metallic gold dress slithered up behind Hunter as Luci was grinding against his front, his hands on her hips as his head tilted back, and the strong green body pressed against his back, swaying in perfect time. Luci glanced back, laughing in delirious joy, and reached her arms over her head, red curls scattering everywhere as she lost herself in the music.

He pressed her against the wall in the hallway, jostled by people making their way to and from the refreshers. Her lips were hot and heavy on his neck, hands pulling his waist ever closer, until she paused for a moment, pulling back to regard him with a suddenly serious expression. Tears in her eyes, a frown on her lips. He bent his head down, touching the side of his face to hers, and she whispered in his ear. 

“Sometimes it all just feels so empty.”

And then she was on him again, coaxing sensations that threatened to overtake him.

Small red lamps glowed on each table in the center of each booth in the dimly-lit room. It was a temporary reprieve from the jam-packed chaos of the streets and clubs, and the food tasted like nothing he’d ever had before. The textures of each bite came alive in his mouth, flavors combining effortlessly – sweet and spicy, savory and tart… Luci climbed into his lap, banging the table as she straddled him. She held up a piece of cheesy bread in her fingers, inviting him to eat it from her hand, which he immediately did. With a giggle, she buried her hands in his hair, tugging it free from the pigtails, and bent over him to bring her mouth to his. 

The rest of the night was a blur.

.

I stole the inspo for his hair from this post by @raevulsix 😂

.

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

Join the tag list by commenting for the discord server link or filling out my form.

@techhasmjolnir @falconfeather23435 @ladylucksrogue @padawancat97 @baddest-batchers

@anxiouspineapple99 @yunggoblin @littlefeatherr @cw80831

@totallyunidentified @lightwise @moonstrider9904 @clonemedickix @dangraccoon

@nursekyra @callsign-denmark @heidnspeak @stardusthuntress @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

@ivyyyyy @kashasenpai @littlemissmanga @followthepurrgil @littlemissmanga

@crosshairscrustysock @lamiliani @skellymom @burningnerdchild @galaxyofthoughts99

@sweeticedtea @starrylothcat @mxkyrie @reader6898 @eyecandyeoz

@trixie2023 @vrycurious @youreababboon @photogirl894 @subbing-for-clones

@yve-barr @salaminus @ezras-left-thumb @etod @dhawerdaverd

@techsgalaxy02

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 17

Part 16

Eddie's chin was perched on Steve's shoulder, reading through the contents of the letter. There was a bunch of legal jargon that went over his head, but it was purely the fact that his parents sent it that document that spoke volumes about the kinds of people they were. Eddie also took to heart that fact Steve hardly ever mentioned them.

"And what exactly are they asking you to 'cease and desist'?" It was too early in the morning for such small print and lawyer-language. Eddie rubbed his eyes.

"Nothing they haven't said before. "I'm an embarrassment to them and they want me to stop."

Eddie hugged Steve from behind and kissed his shoulder. Then he kissed the back of his neck. As he did, he pulled the letter from his hand and then kissed his cheek.

"I'll let my people look over this, but there's no way they can order you to do anything. And if they keep bothering you, we can counter-sue for harassment."

Steve turned around in his arms and smiled. "You'd sue my parents for me?"

"Anything for my baby. I'd keep them wrapped up in court dates for years."

No one bothered his baby. Especially when he wasn't doing anything wrong. Just the idea of Eddie doing so made Steve swoon a little. This was exactly what he had dreamed of. Being scooped up from his humdrum life, filled with stress and anxiety and disappointment and being embraced by someone not just willing to love on him, but take care of him. Steve hadn't worried about a single bill since he and Eddie got together. The amount of times he'd pulled out his own money to pay could be counted on one hand.

"Hmm, I think we'll let them squirm a bit", Steve finally decided. "They don't get to stamp their feet after ignoring me for years."

And so, the letter was pretty much ignored in favor of other things going on. Steve didn't make any effort to be seen less in public. If anything, he was seen more, on the arm of someone from Corroded Coffin. Steve thought he'd be bothered by being photographed all the time. And while it was odd (he didn't know what the fuss was about him and Gareth looking at stationary) so far no one had caught him in any sort of compromising position.

He and Eddie had fucked in the backseat during a car wash and the most provocative picture the tabloids had was one of Eddie's nose buried in his neck, one squeezing his behind as they tried to do a quick makeout in an alley.

And any negative comments were not only drowned out by the positive ones, but they were also easy to ignore when he had a pack of men showering him with adoration.

One night, his parents called and while Steve would rather not been bothered with them, he felt like a shield was cast over him while he was cuddled up to Eddie on one side and the rest of his pack sitting around the living room. So this time, he answered.

"Hello mother."

"You think you're funny, don't you? You think this is all a joke? Have you even thought about us once? Honestly, every morning I wake up thinking there's going to be a picture of you with your pants down or you on your knees or some other-I just don't know where we went wrong with you Steven but this is truly unacceptable."

"What exactly is unacceptable about all of this? What do you actually know about it?"

Eddie muted the tv and gestured for Steve to put her on speaker so that they could all hear. Steve did and his mother's voice sounded around the room.

"We know you're running around with a bunch of musicians, doing god knows what, probably drugs and ruining our family name. Do you know how many times Irene Netting has had something to say about you? I swear the woman has no life but I can't refute the facts she's telling about you."

"You never bothered to get the facts from me", Steve said.

"Did you read the terms in our letter?"

"You mean the cease and desist order?"

"You are going to stop besmirching the Harrington name. By any means necessary. And if that means we have to drag you back home, well, thankfully there's an associate of your father's that's still interested. He's a beta, but beggars can't be choosers."

Steve could scent the way his pack felt about that and if that wasn't enough, the way they were glaring at his phone told the whole story. Eddie held his hand out for it and Steve gave it over, wondering what he'd say.

"Sorry to disappoint, but Steve is already home. And he's not leaving just so you can sell him off to someone twice his age."

"Who is this!? Steven Phillip Harrington, are you living with those animals?"

Steve refrained from making a comment about how beastly Eddie could be in bed. But decided now was as good a time as any to introduce them all. "Mother, this is Eddie, my alpha. Eddie, my dear mother."

Her sucking in a breath could be heard, clearly about to admonish her son again, when Jeff spoke up.

"You know, if it's just about messing up the 'Harrington name' all Steve needs to do is change it."

"Yeah, but to what?", Gareth asked, like the answer wasn't obvious.

It was clear to Steve and Eddie. It was clear the moment they locked eyes. Steve felt the need to bare his neck, to let Eddie claim that last part of himself and be joined forever. Abruptly, Eddie got up from the couch and got down on his knees in front of his love. Steve hung up the phone without ever taking his eyes off of his alpha.

"Stevie, baby, angel, muse of my soul", Eddie kissed his knee. "Would you do me the honor of taking my last name?"

Steve thought back to the night they first met, when he was certain he'd never have Eddie's attention for more than a night, if only for an hour. And now he was prostrated before him, offering his bite. Unable to help himself, Steve fell to his feet, wrapping his arms around his intended.

"Yes! Now. Give it to me now", Steve pleaded, leaning his head to the side to expose his neck.

Eddie hummed into his skin, kissing Steve's neck and even pressing his lips to that special spot in a tease before pulling back. Steve's pout was almost enough to make him do it right now. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

"You deserve a proper courtship, baby. And a proper mating." They may have skipped a few steps, but Eddie was determined to show his beloved how much he meant to him. "If you thought you were spoiled before..."

Steve kissed him and then kissed him again. He couldn't wait and wanted it now. But also the thought of being courted, like an old fashioned courting from back in the day. He also couldn't wait for that. And Eddie wasted no time.

The very next day, Eddie went in full force. Steve was met with courting gifts, Eddie got the approval of Robin, and even the rest of his home pack when they barged in on the video call with Robin.

"I'll withhold my full approval until we can meet in person, Mr. Munson. But for now, you have my permission to court him", Robin said.

When Robin was finally able to come down and meet him, Steve was excited to introduce her. What ended up happening was that he had two menaces on his hands. But that just meant that Robin saw him as an equal and thus perfect for her Steve. And so, two months after announcing his intention, Eddie took Steve on a nice night out. After shopping for an eye catching outfit, they went to a show, dinner, and then when they returned home, Eddie took them right to their bedroom.

By now, their den and nest had become one and Steve knew that he'd never have to take it apart unless an item needed to be washed or re-scented. Tonight, as Eddie lay him down Steve reveled in the scents there. More than one item was fresh. The boys must've scented their clothes while they were on their date.

"I can't believe we waited so long for this", Eddie said while kissing at his belly. "Wanted this since I first laid eyes on you."

"That long?", Steve breathed out, squirming a little as he felt that sinful tongue on his hips.

"Mmm", Eddie hummed against Steve's mound, taking his time, loving that they had time. "That long. I've wanted you to be my mate, bonded and pupped up that whole time."

Steve released a small moan as Eddie spread him and then blew on his cunt, watching it twitch with anticipation. Eddie didn't tease for long, wanting to build up before he sunk his teeth into Steve's neck. Only when Steve was putty in his hands, filled to the brim with his knot, crying out his name, did he finally take the plunge.

When they were catching their breaths, still tied up, and Eddie licking at the new bite, Steve tried to speak between his panting.

"Me...me too..."

"Hm?"

"I've wanted this, since the first night too", Steve finished. "Wanted you forever." He rocked against Eddie. "Wanted you and your pups. The others too now."

Eddie reached down to rub at Steve's clit, making his eyes roll at the sensation. If that's what his baby wanted, his baby would get it. There was enough seed to go around to keep Steve pupped up year round if he desired.

"All you gotta do is ask, sweetness. Fuck", Eddie bucked up into him, making Steve yelp. The thought of him, round with any of their pups was almost too much. For both of them.

It only took a few talks with the whole pack for Steve to stop taking his birth control. Steve was so excited to announce it that he hopped on the first dick that he saw, which was Gareth's. Eddie found them like that in the kitchen, Steve bent over a counter and he took his own turn when he found out what the celebration was for.

Three months later, Steve felt a series of symptoms that had him going to the doctor. And by the next visit it was confirmed: twins. While the doctor was giving him more information, Steve's thoughts were wrapped up in the hope that it was not just Eddie's, but Jeff's too. His body warmed at the memory of having taken both alpha's cocks.

Pictures began to surface of him and his new belly, tracking his progress and of course, speculating on which member of the band was the sire of his new pups. But as the gossip and rumors spread, they made sure it was clear they were reporting on Steve Munson.

End

And that's a wrap! I miiiight do an epilogue on what happens after but for now, that is the end :) thank all yall for reading and leaving such wonderful comments!

Here's that epilogue

Tag Team

@awkotaco24  @lingeringmirth  @littlewildflowerkitten  @estrellami-1  @tartarusknight 

@velocitytimes2  @mrsjellymunson  @trashcanniballecter  @paintsplatteredandimperfect  @a-little-unsteddie  

@sllooney   @starman-jpg   @oxidantdreamboat   @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber  @tiny-enthusiast   @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper 

@y4r3luv  @hello-fellow-nerds   @anonymousbandgirl  @alyelf  @potato-of-the-lord  

@beckkthewreck   @croatoan-like-its-hot  @pluto-pepsi  @abstractnaturaldisaster  @ellietheasexylibrarian 

@eyesofshinigami  @dragonmama76  @greatwerewolfbeliever  @chaosgremlinmunson  @blackpanzy 

@millseyes-world  @batxsignalsx  @lilpomelito  @goosesister  @libraryofgage 

@aresthelostboy  @royjaimie4eva  @silenzioperso  @she-collects-smut  @lost-wondering-souls 

@eddielives1986  @marklee-blackmore

[crooked-wasteland]

I know I'm stealing this critique from the hazbin hotel puppycast videos but why exactly don't HH and HB have proper opening/intros to their episodes?

Like let's pretend that the "totally bogus rumors" of overworking and underpaying at spindlehorse aren't real or anything, I don't see why Viv didn't consider putting an opening to her shows despite her background in making animated music videos.

Take helluva boss for example. The I.M.P. jingle would have been the perfect opening to the start of each episode or a bit after the beginning. It's a catchy tune that gets the idea of the show across. They could have even done something similar to The Simpsons couch gag where the cuts between the middle and the end of the song on have different scenes in them instead of just copying the same scenes again.

Then in the case of Hazbin hotel we actually do get some form of an intro but it's very basic with Keekee just transforming into the logo of the show.

It just feels like a small blank checkmark a person like Viv would try to go big and Beyond with. That's why wanted to ask you about it because I've been enjoying reading your critique's for a while and I've enjoyed your analysis on the Hella version and Viv as a whole.

Thank you so much for enjoying my little ramblings!

Personally, I think it's because of the cast. For actors like Keith David, Kamiko Glenn, and Alex Brightman who have relatively small roles throughout the series, they didn't need their own name cards in the credits. In fact, I would have had all three of them share a name card with their characters illustrated beneath them in Medrano's original art style. Her Pre-pilot art style specifically. It would have made this project feel more triumphant like "look how far we've come".

Basically, I think that the reason the show axed an opening theme song was in favor of having a longer credit roll to showcase her cast. Condensing the credits and speeding them up would have allowed more time at the front to really let the show have a personality and identity.

It is just more of a reflection on Medrano where she compromised the personality and memorability of her series to show off these very expensive voice actors she has collected. It does show what is actually most important to her, and it obviously isn't the show.

Even if this was agreed upon with the actors, I would have settled for less prestigious names in favor of having a streamlined and professional series.