#i've lowkey been thinking about cutting a lot of it off

[silverselfshippingchaos]

brb on my way to kiss her directly on the lips-

[theultracharmingladynoire]

.

[sceletaflores]

working it out (on the remix)

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader summary: you sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. you should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t going to get the three of you anywhere.

—or: three tennis players walk into a hotel room.

word count: 5.5k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, smoking, fighting as foreplay, mean!reader my beloved, the patrick and art gay agenda, threesome, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!), not quite hate sex more like angry sex, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), choking, finger sucking, degradation, creampies, lowkey sub!patrick coded, switch!art ofc, porn with a plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: oh em gee part three is here!!! i literally always say this but i had so much fun writing this one lol thank you so much for showing this series so much love right off the bat! i've loved loved loved reading all the ideas you guys have sent me for future chapters and trust when i say that i'll definitely be featuring as many as i can. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.

tftw series masterlist!

Art is fuming. You keep glancing over at him to check that smoke isn't starting to blow out of his ears. It doesn't, but he's just as mad every time. Standing in the doorway huffing and puffing, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Patrick down from across the room. 

Patrick is the complete opposite, all relaxed body language and easy half-smiles as he coolly stares back. You’d make a fire and ice joke if you didn’t think it would send Art over the edge.

He’s sitting in the room’s single chair, window cracked open so he can smoke. He’s practically naked, wearing an unbuttoned long sleeve and the tiniest boxers you’ve ever seen. His bare feet are propped up on the corner of the bed you’re sitting on. 

You’re perched cross legged on the mattress, basically stuck in the middle of them.

You’re still surprised you even got Art to show up at all. You thought he almost flipped the table when you brought up Patrick at lunch, casually mentioning that you’ve been texting him for the past couple of days and you think the three of you need to talk. He was quiet for a long time before he finally asked if that meant Patrick was, has been, in town. You just shook your head yes.

You didn’t tell him you and Patrick slept together, you didn’t need to.

He went quiet again, stood up from his chair with an excuse of being late to class and stomped out of the dining hall. You texted him the address to Patrick’s hotel an hour later.

Art never responded, but his jeep was still waiting for you outside the biology building after your last lecture got out. He would always drive you back to your dorm since you’d get out so late, but this time he turned out of the campus lot and silently drove until you realized he was going to the hotel.

Now you’re here, and it's been almost ten minutes since you knocked on the door to Patrick’s room. And no one has said anything the entire time. No one has even moved, only Patrick every so often when he needs to flick his ashes out the window. A thick blanket of tense silence falls heavy over the three of you. It makes the room’s temperature feel that much hotter. The shitty air conditioner hums faintly in the background.

“So,” you say slowly, voice finally piercing through the quiet, “Am I gonna have to be the first to talk again or–”

“God, I don’t know,” Art cuts in tersely, not looking away from Patrick as he does, ”I can’t believe I don’t have anything to say to the guy that fucked my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Both you and Patrick ask sharply, opposing tones of shock and amusement blending together.

Art's eyes narrow, a storm brewing in the blue of them. He’s still looking at Patrick, talking about you like you’re not sitting right in front of him. "Yeah, my girlfriend. Did I stutter?" His chest is puffed out just enough for you to notice, his mouth pulled down at the corners in a deep frown.

You blink, caught off guard. Art’s never asked you to go steady with him, you’ve never even been on a date. Unless you count fucking in the back of his jeep at a drive in theater a date, then sure, you’ve been on one date. Regardless, the possessive timbre of his voice has something warm simmering under your skin.

Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “Well, this is fucking news to me,” he says through a chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of you bemusedly, “I didn’t realize you guys were playing house, but that does makes a lot more sense now.” He gestures to your chest with his free hand, pointing out the dark blue sweatshirt you’re wearing.

‘Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy’ is stitched across the front in thin black thread; you'd stolen it from Art’s closet when you slept over at his dorm a few nights ago. He never asked for it back.

“It’s cute that you kept my shirt, Donaldson.” Patrick teases, lolling his head to the side lazily so he can look at Art through his lashes. A plume of smoke billows from between his lips, slipping through the open window slowly. “Even after you tried to turn my girlfriend against me and fucked her behind my back first–”

“Fuck you, Patrick–” Art starts, face twisted in a scowl. His hands ball into fists at his side, jaw ticking with anger.

Patrick doesn’t look deterred, leaning forward in his chair as he tries to talk over Art, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite–”

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” you cut them both off, brows drawn together in frustration, “—and I’m not going to let this turn into some weird pissing contest between you two. We’re here to talk.”

Art scoffs agitatedly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Looks like the two of you have done plenty of talking without me,” he says bitterly. “Do you get off on this shit or something? On sticking your dick where it doesn’t fucking belong?”

Patrick smirks, leaning back in his chair, arms draped lazily over the armrests. “God, you really do think you’re innocent in this,” he laughs incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting like you’ve got some moral high ground, but you don’t. You’re just as guilty of playing the game as I am.”

Art’s face darkens further, anger threatening to boil over. “This isn’t a game to me, Patrick,” he spits, tone hard and low, “I’m so sick of you treating everything like a goddamn joke.”

Patrick’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I never said it was a joke,” he says with a shrug, tone easy and nonchalant. “I’m just saying, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fucking fingers. I’m not the only one who’s played dirty here.”

“Patrick–” you warn, sitting up straighter. You can feel the way the air changes, the way the animosity gets turned up. The last thing you need is for them to start throwing punches.

Art cuts you off, shaking his head in contempt. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t fucking care about her. You never did. You just want to win, because you can’t stand the thought of losing to me.”

Patrick groans loudly, throwing his head back with it. “We’re really going back to this again? Jesus Christ, give it up man. It’s not like she was ever really yours to begin with.” He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes never leaving Art.

The jab hits its mark, you can see it on Art’s face. In the way he physically recoils, the way he takes a ragged breath through his nose, the way the muscles of his jaw work furiously. For the first time since you fucked Patrick, you feel like a fucking bitch. The familiar feeling of guilt wraps its tendrils around you, weighing you down into the mattress like a physical force.

It gives you an idea, the guilt. It's a filthy idea, one that has heat stirring between your legs at just the thought. It’s a good way to make this whole situation up to Art, a good way to let him get under Patrick’s skin the same way he’s getting under his.

You sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. You should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t getting the three of you anywhere.

You sigh, overly dramatic and long suffering, scooting down until your legs are hanging over the edge of the mattress. Art and Patrick watch you the entire time, eyes finally leaving each other to watch your hands settle on the hem of Patrick’s sweatshirt.

“You guys are being so difficult. Why did I think that you could behave enough to talk this out like big boys?” You tug it off in one swift move, tossing it to the side carelessly. Two sharp gasps ring out, two sets of greedy eyes roam the bare expanse of your torso. You hadn’t worn a bra today.

You smirk, standing from the mattress and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your sweats. You push them down your legs slowly, making a show of it until you're only in the pair of light purple panties you slipped on this morning. Patrick smirks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window and yanking it closed. He goes to stand, Art pointedly takes a single threatening step forward as he does but you stop both of them in their tracks. 

“No.” Your voice rings through the small room, loud and commanding. Patrick sits back down almost immediately, his brow raising in confusion. Art does the same, freezing with one foot in front of him. They’re both hard, cocks tenting the fabric of their bottoms. Their boners point towards each other, you bite your lip to hide your smile. 

“You’ve been so bad, Ricky.” you scold softly, voice syrupy sweet as you lean back on the bed. “Dressed up like an easy whore in here waiting for us, being so mean to Art, fucking his girl…” You trail off boredly, palms braced flat on the bed behind you so you can lean back as casually as you can muster. You let your legs fall open, spread enough to let Patrick and Art see the wet spot slowly seeping into the fabric.

You can hear Art’s sharp inhale from across the room at your words, his girl. You’re still careful not to say girlfriend, that’s a whole other talk. Patrick squirms in his chair, practically itching with the need to say something. You level him with a hard look, a firm shake of your head keeps him quiet. When you finally turn your attention to Art, he meets your gaze easily, eyes already blown out and glassy. Even from here you can see the way his pupils swallow the pretty blue color.

You smile, lips curling up in a wicked smile. “Art,” you coo softly, reaching your hand out in offering, “come here.” 

Art’s walking towards you without a second thought, crossing the room in just a few large steps. You smile at him, patting the spot next to you. The bed creaks as he sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight slides you closer to him. ”I think,” you say slowly, resting your hand high up on his thigh, so close to the hard line of his cock straining against the fabric, “that we need to teach Patrick a lesson on manners.”

“What! No fucking way, that’s bullshi–” Patrick fusses from the corner, sitting up straighter in seat, the armrest gripped tight in his left hand.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, whipping your head to the side to glare at him. “This isn’t about you.”

He frowns, pushing out his bottom lip like an actual child. You just barely fight the urge to roll your eyes, an evil smile spreading across your face as you watch him honest-to-God pout.

“This is about Art,” you slide your hand up higher, cupping him through his loose shorts. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, a quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips as you apply more pressure to where your hand is steadily rubbing him up and down. “Plus, you’re already in the cuck chair,” you aren’t able to stop the small chuckle that falls from your lips, “you’ve got a perfect view.”

His pink lips part ever so slightly, eyes going wide and hungry at your words. You throw him one last devilish smile before you’re sinking to your knees in front of the bed. The scratchy carpet digs into your knees but you don’t care, not when Art is towering in front of you with the ceiling lights shining around him like he’s an angel.

You smile up at him, dragging the palms of your hands up and down his thighs. “Take your shirt off,” you encourage, slipping your hands up to toy with the hem of his shorts.

He complies beautifully, pulling his shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the lean, toned muscles of his torso. You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, appreciating the sight before returning your attention to your task. Your fingers deftly undo the drawstring of his shorts, and start tugging them down. Art lifts his hips enough for you to drag them all the way down his legs, taking his boxers with them to free his hard cock.

Again, you slide your hands up the bare skin of his thighs, inches away from where he wants them. He’s so hard, cock standing straight up in an angry red line against his stomach. The tip drools pre-cum that leaks down the length of him slowly.

Art's breath hitches, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of anticipation and desperation. Your fingers brush lightly over his upper thighs, before you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat of his arousal pulse against your palm. His gasp is sharp, and you silently revel in the power you hold over him in this moment.

You glance over at Patrick, who is staring wide-eyed, his earlier irritation replaced with a raw, unfiltered hunger.

Your lips curl into a smug smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. “See something you like, Patrick?” you taunt, giving Art a slow, deliberate stroke that has him groaning softly. Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching, but he stays silent, his gaze locked on the two of you.

Art's hands grip the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white. "Fuck," he breathes out, his voice strained, "you're killing me."

You laugh softly, a dark, melodic sound, and lean forward, letting your tongue flick out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Art moans, the sound vibrating through you. You glance up at him through your lashes, seeing the way his head tilts back, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

You slide your lips up the length of his leaking cock, teasing and slow. Art stares down at you, not breaking eye contact as he breathes raggedly through his nose.

“Tell him how it feels,” you whisper against the pink tip of his cock, sliding it back and forth across your lips teasingly. Art swallows hard, skin flushing in embarrassment.

“So good…” he whispers, eyes still locked onto yours. His blush goes from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, spreading pink and warm across the strong muscle of his pecs.

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Don’t tell me, tell him.” You jerk your head in Patrick’s direction once before you sink down until your nose is nestled against the soft blonde hair at the base of his cock, working your throat around the length of him. 

Art moans loudly, his hands coming up to tangle into your hair. You keep going, fighting his grip on you as you start to bob your head over his cock in a steady rhythm, working your hand in time with your mouth.

He forces himself to look at Patrick, catching his eyes.

Patrick looks fucked, lips slick and dropped open as he stares back Art, hungry gaze not wavering. His cock is still hard, pressed against the seam of his boxers and leaking a steady patch of wetness around the head. 

A silent challenge seems to pass between the two of them.

We doing this or what?

Art refuses to back down, hardening his resolve. “Feels so fucking good,” he groans, not looking away from Patrick, “her throat’s so tight, so– God, it’s so good. Best I’ve ever had.”

He’s rambling, not even making any sense but you hum in approval all the same, your tongue curling around the crown. Patrick doesn’t look like he minds too much either, pink tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip. "Please," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "Let me..."

You pull off Art with a wet pop, turning your head as best you can with his hand still tangled in your hair to fix Patrick with a steely gaze. "You don't get to make requests," you say, your voice hard. "You get to watch and learn."

Patrick's eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn't protest. Art lets out a low growl, his hand tightening its grip on your hair and dragging your mouth back to his cock.

“Stop fucking talking to him,” he demands, hips thrusting to fuck back into your mouth. You choke on the sudden fullness, wetness floods your panties as you moan around him.

Yes, you think, eyes squeezing close as you force your throat to relax around his cock, this is what I wanted.

You were waiting to see how long it’d take Art to snap, he lasted longer than you thought he would. The head of his cock punches against the soft, spongy part at the back of your throat. You fight to not gag around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. His balls slap against your chin roughly, sticking wetly to the drool that's starting to fall from the corners of your lips.

Art meets Patrick’s eye again, a smug smirk on his face as he jerks his head in a clear invitation, “Come here.” He grunts simply, dragging you up and down the length of his cock by his tight grip on your hair.

Patrick practically sprints from the chair, ripping his shirt off while he tries to kick his boxers off before he reaches the bed. He sits next to Art, chest heaving as he stares down at where your lips stretched obscenely over his best friend's cock. 

Art pulls you off by your hair, holding your face a few inches away from his spit covered cock. He tuts at you sympathetically, tilting his head to the side with a tiny frown at the sight of you all teary eyed. “Bet you feel real empty, right?” he asks sadly, shaking your head back and forth like a dog. “That greedy pussy wants our cocks stretching her open, doesn't she?”

You whine loudly, nodding your head as best you can as the meaning of Art’s words sink over you. You feel far away, like you’ve already been fucked six ways to Sunday. You cunt clenches around nothing, aching for Art and Patrick’s cocks bullying their way inside you. You’ve never done anything like that before, taken two guys at once, but God do you need it.

Art nods back, brows pulled together in faux pity. “Pat and I will help baby,” he says sweetly, “You just gotta get nice and stretched out first, need to fuck yourself open on Patrick’s cock so you can take us.”

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick breathes, already moving up the bed to lay flat on his back agasint the pillows. His cock sticking straight out from his body, pointing to the ceiling desperately.

Art lets go of your hair, cupping the side of your face tenderly. His thumb rubs against the soft skin of your cheekbone a few times, you know it’s a question. 

Do you want this?

You smile, nuzzling his palm and giving his thumb a playful nip. The answer to his question written all over your face.

Fuck yes.

Art smiles back, nodding his head once. You take the hint, rising from your knees to climb onto the mattress. You slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you crawl up the length of Patrick’s body, straddling his hips and wasting no time in sinking down on his cock.

Art settles next to the two of you, hand loosely gripped around his cock as he starts to lazily stroke himself to the sight of you and Patrick.

“Fuck!” Patrick hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips fiercely as you start to ride him, not giving either of you anytime to adjust. The stretch burns, the lack of prepping before hand makes it sting. You don’t mind, too worked up to care. 

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” He tries, but you cut him off bringing your free hand to wrap around the column of his throat just like he did to you back in the shower.

“You’re the slut,” you growl, fingers digging into his skin roughly. His eyes widen, plush lips going slack. You speed your hips up, the loud smack each time you drop down onto him echoes through the room. “You’re the easy fucking whore that soaked your panties watching your best friend fuck my throat."

Art huffs out a breath, hand slipping over his cock faster as he watches you ride Patrick. His eyes are trained on the way your hand is wrapped against Patrick’s throat. He slips his free hand down, pressing two fingers against Patrick’s cock so you slide down onto them on the next bounce.

“Fuck!” You keen loudly, grip tightening on Patrick’s throat. Art’s fingers add to the sting of your cunt, but your hips don’t stop moving, even as he slips in a third just as fast.

You get lost in it, in the feeling of Patrick’s dick fucking into you so deeply you swear he’s hitting your cervix with every roll of your hips, Art’s fingers stretching you that much wider.

Suddenly, Art drops his cock so his free hand can latch onto your hips, his strong grip forcing you to stop your desperate bouncing. His fingers slip out of you, you immediately miss the stretch.

Patrick groans in displeasure, his hips buck up like he’s trying to slide back into the warmth of your fucked open cunt. His leaking head bumps against your sensitive clit a few times before Art’s dropping his hand down, gripping Patrick’s cock to line it up with his own.

Art slides up behind you, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against your back. “Should be stretched out enough,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, pressing both tips against your fluttering hole.

The shock of it has your hand slipping off Patrick’s throat to anchor onto his shoulders in a feeble attempt to brace yourself. He sucks in large gasps of air, chest heaving as he stares down to where his cock is pressed snug against Art’s, his hand big enough to almost wrap around them both. He throws his head back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, I can’t watch,” he gasps, voice low and ragged. 

Art laughs smugly, but it’s breathy around the edges and you can feel the way his hand shakes on your hip. “Close already, Pat?” He asks condescendingly, as his fingers dig in a little tighter. “You’re not even doing any of the work.”  

You try to focus on the sensation of Art’s grip, but your mind is a haze of overstimulation and the throb of Patrick’s cock against you. Art’s mocking tone sends a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close you are to the edge yourself. Your greedy cunt clenches around them, trying to suck them in you.

Patrick’s breath stutters, his hips jerking up involuntarily, making a strangled noise that’s half-groan, half-whimper. “Fuck you, man,” he manages to grind out, but his voice is trembling and strained, the bite in his tone gets undercut by how wrecked he sounds. You can feel the barely there twitches of his hips, like he’s physically pained from having to wait any longer.

A sharp cry rips from your throat as they finally start to slide in, both heads popping into your tight hole all at once. Your eyes screw shut at the stretch, thighs shaking where they’re spread over Patrick’s hips.

“Someone kiss me,” you gasp desperately, chin lowering to your chest. Art’s moving before the words finish leaving your mouth, gripping a fistful of Patrick’s hair and dragging him up to your lips. You whine into his mouth, letting his tongue slide between your lips to claim your mouth.

The familiar feeling of his lips on yours relaxes you the tiniest bit, letting Art lower you down a few more inches. It feels like hours as you sink onto them, Art’s big hands gently massaging your hips while Patrick’s greedy fingers pull and paw at your thighs.

It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard Patrick. His lips going slack in awe against yours as Art’s cock slides up next to his, moaning into your mouth when your hips go flush with his.

They feel so huge inside you, so thick you swear you can feel them in your stomach. Bullying your insides into making more room for the both of them.

“Fuck," you gasp, nails digging little crescent moons into Patrick’s shoulders. Every inch of you is alive with sensation, a burning mix of pleasure and pain. Art’s breath is hot and ragged against your ear, whispering sweet encouragements, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, taking us so fucking good–” 

You nod, slowly starting to grind your hips back and forth, gasping when they rub up against the soft spot inside of you that has you clenching in pleasure– practically choking them off at the base. A high moan falls from your lips, hips swirling the tiniest bit faster that have both Art and Patrick growl out matching groans of approval.

“Just like that,” Art whispers into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Gonna make him come first, or are you gonna beat him to it?” The challenge in his voice sends a jolt of heat through you, your thighs starting to shake with every pass of them over that spot.

“God, ah! Art– fuck, mh, Patrick–” You slur, head already starting to go fuzzy

“Fuck,” Art gasps out your name sharply, pushing you down onto Patrick’s chest so he can start fucking into your loose, sloppy cunt. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” his hand grips the back of your neck to pin you down, throwing all his strength behind the snap of his hips.

“Shit, look at you,” Patrick chuckles weakly pinching your hips hard, trying to seem less affected than he really is. “You’re so fucking gone. All that attitude needs is some dick to fix it, huh?”

You crack your eyes open, blearily searching until you zero in on his face. He’s smiling smugly, eyes blown out and hazy.

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit weakly, raising your hand to shove your index and middle finger between his parted lips. You push back far enough to feel his throat constricting against your fingers, letting him gag on you. Your eyes trace the side of his face, down the slope of his nose to where his cherry red lips are lewdly spread around your fingers. 

You can distantly hear Art groan behind you, his hips speeding up impossibly faster. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers digging into your sensitive skin meanly. You hook your fingers behind Patrick’s teeth, dragging his face to the side to meet your eye. Patrick moans around your fingers, gazing at you pleading through half lidded eyes. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, drenching your wrist. His hot, wet tongue sliding along the pads of your fingers feels scalding.

Patrick's hands are everywhere, pulling, pinching, caressing, his touch a maddening mix of rough and tender. The feeling of him inside you, alongside Art, is almost too much to bear, making you gasp for breath. Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and desperation, each one a plea for more, more, more the closer you get the edge.

“Shit, ah, Art, ah!” Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the sheets, the fingers of your free hand twist Patrick’s hair roughly. “I’m gonna come— Mm, ah! I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Art goads, the rhythm of his hips not faltering, “Come on baby– fuck yeah– fucking soak these dicks–”

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your vision whites out around you as the entire world shrinks down to the stretch of your gushing cunt around Art and Patrick. The slight burn of them, the fullness, the unrelenting pace of Art’s hips stinging the skin of your ass on each thrust. 

Patrick bites down on your fingers with a broken whine just as Art sinks his teeth into your neck, both of them groaning so loud it’s all you can hear. That and the faulty rhythm of Art’s hips snapping against the meat of your ass in loud ‘cracks’. 

They come together, and you can feel it.

You can feel every twitch and jerk of their cocks inside you as they spray the walls of your cunt with their releases. Spurt after spurt of hot come claiming you as theirs, filling you to the brim. Art doesn’t stop, working the three of you through your orgasms. Each thrust fucks more of their come out of you, the lewd squelch of it leaking from of your loose hole to gather around the base of their cocks in two matching creamy rings makes your ears burn.

Just as it gets to be too much, when the pleasure starts to give way into biting overstimulation, Art stops. You’re slumped against Patrick, shaking like a leaf when Art starts to pull out as gently as he can. You hiss when the head of his cock slips out, thighs clenching together.

“Sorry,” he whispers sweetly, giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. He practically man handles you off of Patrick’s cock, lifting your hips up and off of him.

Patrick groans, stomach twitching in oversensitivity as your slick walls slide against his spent dick. Finally he slips out, his drenched cock falling to slap onto his stomach. There come rushes out of you, dripping sticky and thick down your inner thighs. 

There’s sweat dripping down your temple when you fall onto the mattress, your back sticks to the sheets but you’re too out of it to care. Art collapses next to you, sandwiching you between him and Patrick. The three of you are quiet, chests heaving as you catch your breath. Patrick’s hairy thigh is pressed to yours, firm and toned. Art’s got an arm slung over your waist, his breath puffs hot against your neck.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” you say breathlessly, voice raspy and hoarse. “It could work. We could make it work, the three of us.”

Art and Patrick are quiet, their silence heavy with contemplation. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, more nervous bringing this up than you thought you’d be. The room is filled with the sounds of your collective breaths, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and sex.

Patrick chuckles, you can feel his curls brushing against your shoulder as he shakes his head in dry amusement. "Yeah, because everything about this screams 'healthy relationship,'" he quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Art lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice low and steady. "Let's just...see where this goes."

You feel a rush of relief at his words, but Patrick’s hesitancy still gnaws at the edges of your mind. Patrick shifts beside you, his hand skirting lightly over your arm in a rare moment of tenderness.

"Guess we're in uncharted territory, huh?" he murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically serious. 

You laugh, finally daring to glance at both of them, a tentative smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Art and Patrick look back at you with matching grins wide enough to show their teeth, blonde and black hair fanning around their faces like halo’s under the room’s shitty fluorescent light. Your heart swells under the intense stare of two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green. You can feel the room start to fade away until it’s just the three of you and nothing else seems to matter.

Art leans down, giving your right shoulder a quick kiss. “If we’re doing this, we have to be honest with each other.” He looks between you and Patrick pointedly, but he’s still smiling. “No more bullshit games.”

Patrick snorts, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, “Yes sir.” 

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. "No bullshit, no games," you agree, moving to squeeze Art's hand. He squeezes back in a silent promise.

The three of you lie there in a comfortable silence, the weight of your decision settling over you. It's definitely not going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.

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[kaytheday]

Things that were a Culture Shock for Dallas Winston from New York to Tulsa

Being able to see the stars for the first time. He is so surprised about how full the sky is, not that he would ever tell anybody that.

No public transportation (there is no way baby Dally ever learned how to drive and no way that he has a drivers lisence now) Buck probably taught him to drive.

He probably misses the subway and hates the bus system that Tulsa operates under (which is why he’s stealing Bucks car all the time).

Lowkey the rats. He is probably overestimating quite how much vermin there is.

The first time Darry caught him stuffing a towel in the sink drain at like 10:00 pm before they go to a drag race he was very confused.

"Why are you doing that Dal?"

"I’m planning on sleeping here tonight and if you don't keep these things plugged up when you go to bed you're gonna have a full rat invasion on your hands. They can get through pipes smaller than these you know Darrel.”

"Ratvasion up in here!"

"Shut up Two-Bit!"

Streets with nobody on them and less crowded spaces in general. Dallas is constantly asking where all the people are. Everyone else just keeps telling him that this is a normal amount of people?

Another thing that I think about is how Dallas was probably on high alert right after he moved. He was constantly used to the noise and the fighting and he was pretty paranoid about people following him and things like that because of the crime he was involved with in the city.

He was jumpy and always ready for a fight. He also thought that most of the neighborhoods in Tulsa were run by gangs. They are not (if anything they are loosely run)

The prices of things? In New York things are just more expensive. This is why he is always treating Johnny and Ponyboy because he sees that paying for three people in Tulsa is as much as paying for himself in New York.

Also the first time he got paid for barrel racing by Buck he thought he was getting gypped because it didn't seem like a lot compared to what he was getting in New York. He literally almost punched Buck's teeth out on the spot.

The accent. He would always get annoyed with how slow people talked.

"Come on! Spit it out and get to the point! I don't got all day!" He's done this on many occasions to store cashiers, people at the bar, and so many others. He gets so sick of waiting for them to say their bit.

Also the southern manners piss him off as well. He hates responding to ‘how are you?’ Or the stupid ‘have a nice day’. He’s complained more than once on the unnecessary small talk and manners.

This could also be why he comes off as rude and cold to Ponyboy especially and many others. He is blunt and says what’s on his mind and he hates small talk and unnecessary interactions. (as most New Yorkers do!) He will almost always cut an interaction short doing anything he can to get out of it. This is often what differentiates him from other southern hoods.

New Yorkers talk fast and they use a lot of complicated slang that the rest of the United States doesn't use. A lot of people get confused when he's talking to them and we know how Dallas is easily frustrated.

"I've been schleppin' your stuff around all day Buck, it's brick out 'ere and I come home to this Schlock? I gotta go lie down!" (love you and your New Yorker accent Dallas 🥰)

Let me know if you guys have any more. I love this concept.

This is inspired by some tags left on a post by @damthosefandoms

[touchme-teezme]

Last Pick.

PAIRING | ateez mingi x female bodied!reader

TAGS | angst, smut, friends to lovers(?), p0rn with a plot with a cliffhanger (oopsie), lots of kissing, oral, reader was angry then h0rny…and then sad :( oh! and mingi’s lowkey a hoe

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors DNI!)

SONGS | Cherry Hill - Russ, That's why I love you - SiR & Sabrina Claudio & Do you like me? - Daniel Cesar

SUMMARY | you and mingi are best friends. he likes you, but you love him. one fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i didn't know if i wanted to write angst or smut... so here's both? a bonus fic to celebrate the hard (pun intended) launch of my blog! it’s a bit more dramatic than i’m used to but that’s what creative writing is for. i have a few other members in my drafts. i plan to update sometime this week. might just spam them idk. i've been in such a writing mojo lately; i think i just miss ateez haha. also if you’re new, english is not my first language so if i get some terminologies mixed up, sorry!! that's all, enjoy ya freaks.

inspired by a quote from ‘save me an orange’ by hayley grace. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

It was getting late, and you were growing tired.

Mentally tired. You were tired of hearing the same stories, the same kind of complaining, and most of all, tired of pathetically waiting on the sidelines. You’ve been avoiding the truth for so long that you didn’t notice it consumed you.

You weren’t Mingi’s type. He liked their personalities, bright, funny, and effortlessly interesting. Feminine, sexy and confident. Girls that could lead and had interesting hobbies. Compared to his colourful dating history, you felt like you weren’t anything particularly special.

You finally accepted that tonight, while drinking on your balcony as you listened to how his tinder dates this month went. At the mention of the second girl (whose name you already forgot), you were already dying inside.

Before you thought it wouldn’t get any worse, he went off topic and started talking about his future and what he actually wanted.

He blurted out that he should just marry you if he was still single at 35, declaring he had officially given up on the shrinking dating pool.

He looked at you with a mix of admiration and bliss in his eyes. That stupid, goddamn part of your brain convinced you it could happen. He acknowledged that small 0.0001% possibility of you and him ending up together, so there was actually a chance you could actually be with him.

But reality sunk in and drowned you.

Song Mingi would never love you.

That’s when the little glimmer of hope you’d carried throughout your friendship shattered. The shards had cut you and hurt bled out.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You sighed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

Mingi didn’t know what to say at first, but at least a hundred responses came to his mind.

His face (which usually said whatever he was thinking for him) settled into a look that screamed Where did THAT come from? for him.

That was enough to discourage you altogether. You let silence grow between you two, quietly finishing your last sip with nothing but the sounds of midnight Seoul traffic beneath you.

You set the glass bottle on the table and rose from your chair. “I’m going to bed. You can hang out here or just leave or whatever.”

Mingi took a few seconds to process the shift in mood before he ran after you inside. He thought you two were having some decent conversations, but he got ahead of himself like he usually does.

���Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

You paused and turned around slowly. You were trying to carefully pick out the right words from what you were feeling.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I know, that’s why I came. You weren’t really replying to me and San said he hasn’t heard from you. I…I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, you saw me. You can go.” You shrugged.

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows. “If this is about what I said about marrying you, I wasn’t serious. I know you don’t believe in marriage and—“

You let out a wry scoff, cutting his weak explanation short. You could’ve been mean, throw him out, laugh it off and say you were kidding. But you couldn’t ignore that feeling in your chest anymore.

With eyes shut, you murmured, “I hate how you make me feel sometimes.” and when you opened your eyes, they were already watery.

Mingi's face fell. "Hey, c’mon, I didn't mean to upset you."

He approached you delicately, his large hands encasing yours with a gentle touch. If he were to pull you in for one of his bear hugs, you might explode.

You quickly stepped back, creating distance between as you refused his hands. “That’s all you do lately. You don’t even realise half of the shit you say and how much it hurts to hear.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was now growing very concerned. “I thought we were friends.”

“Do friends make each other feel like they’re the last pick of the litter?”

Mingi's eyes widened. "Last pick? Hey, what is going on with you?"

You laughed, but it was devoid of humour. "Let me break this down for you. All I have been hearing about these days are your dates, your perfect girls, how you have no connection with them so you’re going to die alone and yet you’re still choosing to sleep with the entire city. Then you throw out this ridiculous idea of how you want to settle down eventually, and when you’ve had your fun, you would marry me. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

He looked taken aback. “But… what I said, that was a joke and—“

"A joke?!” Your voice rose. "My feelings are a joke to you? Do you have any idea how long I've been…”

You stopped yourself, your mouth hanging slightly open as you realised there was no point. You had no business convincing a man to want you.

Still, the volume and hurt in your voice stunned him into silence despite you not finishing your sentence.

"You know what? Just get out." You seemed firm and dismissive, yet your heart was breaking. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being your friend if this is how it’s going to be until you… decide to settle. You have to go."

Mingi stood there, shock and confusion written all over his face. "You don't mean that. Please, we can talk about this.”

"No, Mingi. Just leave," you insisted, your voice cracking as you further widened the space between you, your hands held up in surrender as you walked away. "I'm done."

Yet another awkward silence grew between you. For a moment, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched you slowly walk towards your closed bedroom door disappointed.

Then, as if something snapped inside him. He finally realized what this was about.

You had feelings for him.

You didn’t say it out loud, but it made sense and Mingi felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He crossed the distance between you in two quick strides, desperate to reach you. His hand grabbed your shoulder first, turning you around.

“No, we’re talking about this.”

“I have nothing else to say to you. Go fuck someone new on tinder and just leave me out of it.”

“Dude, come on this is not how we talk to each other.” He was getting way too close to you.

“I couldn’t give two shits about how we talk to each other when you’ve pissed me off. So now, you have to go.”

“You almost said it a minute ago. Tell me why the girls bother you, why what I said bother you. I need to hear it.” He demanded.

Okay, that pissed you off more than you already were. Your chest heaved with the intensity of your emotions, the words bubbling up from a place you had kept buried for too long.

“This is stupid,” You whispered, shaking your head as your eyes continued watering as your gaze pierced into his. “You’re stupid, and you make me feel stupid.”

“Say what you wanted to, and I’ll go, and we never have to speak again.”

“So that’s it? You want an ego boost? You wanna feel on top?!” You practically yelled in his face.

“If that’ll make you be fucking honest for once, it might be worth it!”

“You’re so pretentious. I can’t believe I ever stuck around this long!”

“Why did you then, huh? Tell me exactly why you did!”

His yelling echoed in your apartment. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you stared at his lips.

Fuck it.

You closed the final few inches of distance between you in a swift motion. Gripping onto his shirt, you pulled him towards you forcefully, crashing your lips onto his with all the built-up anger and frustration pouring out.

Mingi was completely caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss. But the second you tried to pull away, he grabbed you back in. His hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you against him as the kiss deepened.

He lifted one of your legs up to the sides of his hip as he pushed you up against the bedroom door, cushioning the impact with his palm on the back of your head. The heat between your legs was growing and rubbing against his crotch was making it worse.

Your hands were exploring his chest, his shoulders, his face and his hair. You finally gasped for air, tilting your head up which invited him to kiss down your chin to your neck.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.” I whispered out, shaking your head. Baffled at how good of a kisser he was, but with how he was spending his weekends, it wasn’t exactly a mystery.

He bent down to hoist you up by your thighs, effortlessly wrapping them around his waist. With one of your arms snaked around his neck for support, the other reached behind to open the door.

“Hate me later.” He muttered, kissing you again as he carried you into your dark bedroom.

He laid you down, sandwiching you between his chest and your mattress. You could feel him getting hard through the tin fabric of his Adidas shorts.

He smelled so fucking good. His natural scent mixed with a hint of the cologne you got for him for his birthday made your imagination go wild. Your hands reached the hem of his shirt like an animal instinct, tempted to rip it off him if he didn’t take it off in the next few seconds.

He pulled up and tugged his shirt over his head when he noticed your neediness. In the faint light of the opened door behind him, you could see the outline of his toned body.

Soft streetlights from outside the window above the bed frame gently illuminated his face that looked down at you like you were a full course meal and he was starving.

You have found Mingi handsome since the first day you met. Hell, even he knew he was handsome but something about how he looked at that moment sent chills all throughout your body.

When he leaned back down over you, you couldn’t resist reaching out to his face to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing back and forth near the beauty mark on his face.

He took your hand gently, kissing the back of it. Guiding your hand to his chest, he let you trace your fingertips down his body.

You almost forgot why you were angry.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked, still sounding a little breathless from the escalation.

You looked up from your hand on his lower abdomen, “If you leave now I might actually kill you.”

almost.

He took in bottom lip with his teeth to hide an excited smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, he moved slower, savouring whatever was left of that cherry lip balm you had on. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You smiled into the next kiss. Typically you’re not supposed to enjoy having the tongue of the person you were just screaming at in your mouth, but you wanted it there for as long as possible. In fact, you wanted that tongue everywhere on you.

Mingi on the other hand was trying really hard to focus but he could literally feel your nipples through the t-shirt you still had on.

Why the fuck was it even still on, he had no idea.

He was now thinking about how you did not have a bra on the entire time he was hanging out at your house, wondering how often it had been happening without him realising.

You grabbed onto the sides of his hips, and groaned in his mouth. He flipped over, positioning you so you were centred on his hard cock. You readjusted your legs to straddle him comfortably, your arms crossing behind his neck for support as he was sitting up.

His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing it in encouragement as you started bucking your hips against him. Your nails scratching up his shoulders as you started to wonder if the rumours about his dick size were true — all while the friction was driving him insane with arousal.

He helped you take your baggy t-shirt over your head. Delighted that you weren’t wearing a bra, he even fixed your hair once it was off, carefully flipping it behind your shoulders. He slid a hand to the small of your bare back, stealing a quick glance at your face.

You were the prettiest girl he knew. He had told you that a few times, but stopped once he realised you were never going to believe him. He’d be lying if he said he was never attracted to you, he just could never find the courage to cross that line. He was afraid of losing you more than anyone else he’d ever met.

“What?” You simply asked.

Doe eyed, topless, in his arms. Mingi could’ve sworn he had a wet dream about this once. His eyes dipped to your chest without saying a word, and he buried his face there. You rolled your eyes, but inside you were screaming with joy.

He caught your left nipple between his swollen lips while he massaged the other in his free hand. You squirmed when you felt him nibble, and twist you like a personal bop it. You even felt the fucker smirk against your skin at your reaction.

Your hand moved to roughly grip on the hair on the back of his head and your back arched towards him, feeling his tongue licking on your chest in a circular motion.

His eyes looked up at you, as he sucked on your breasts sloppily and kneading them with his hand, admiring his view and the feeling it came with.

You felt the tip of his nose brush up across your collarbone to return to your neck. You were getting so wet, it’s a miracle you managed to restrain yourself from taking those eager hands of his and shoving them in your shorts.

“I-I’m still mad…a-at you.” You managed to choke out, shuddering from the tingling feeling of him sucking on a sweet spot you didn’t know you had.

“I know.” He groaned.

Your hand reached down to the rock solid boner you had been grinding up against. He took a sharp hiss of breath at your touch.

He flipped you over again before you could’ve tried to slip off his pants. He guided you a little higher on the bed and then sat up to pull your shorts and your underwear down in one firm swift motion.

With his hands gently on your knees, he parted your legs. “Fuck…” He whispered.

As you lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows, you were a little embarrassed that he was seeing that part of you at first, but the way his eyes looked into yours and raked down your body made you grow a little more confident in your skin.

“Are you gonna just stare?” You nodded your head at him.

“I’m taking my time because you have no idea how often I’ve thought of doing this to you.”

“Slut.”

Mingi cracked into a grin, his tongue cheekily running across his top teeth as he shook his head and took your leg over his shoulder. He pushed your other knee further out when he started to lean down, coming closer to your dripping cunt.

Took his time, he did.

He cherished every kiss, and the way his nose slid up and down against you made your breathing shaky. Your hands fondled your own tits that were still a little damp from his licks from earlier.

When he started basically making out with your clit, your head threw back and you couldn’t hold back your breathy moans. Your hips started to rock into his tongue.

“Who’s the slut now?” You heard him coo from under you. He watched you with fox-like eyes, keeping a vigilant gaze while you stimulated yourself and something about it made it ten times hotter.

“S-still you—Ah, Mingi!” Your head dropped onto the bed.

Your clit was swollen, and his fingers invited themselves between your folds before entering. There’s no way you could’ve held in that loud moan, or mask the look of absolute pure pleasure that contorted your face.

Something about how you were unravelling at the curl of his finger inside you, with your heel dug in lot his back and the sound of you moaning his name over and over had him excited for what’s to come.

Figuratively and literally.

Mingi’s dick had never been harder.

You reached for his hand that was gripping on your thigh to keep your legs parted. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes squeezed shut to feel the electrifying sensation throughout your entire body. His fingers and the upper inner part of your thighs were coated in your release.

Holy shit, Mingi actually made you cum. And he sucked and licked every last of it as you were riding it out.

He sucked on your clit one last time, giving a quick kiss goodbye before crawling up your body to meet your face.

His hand was beside your face as he tilted his head to the side. Mingi hovered over you and though you felt a bit dizzy, you managed to mirror the grin on his face.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Furious.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

As you sat up slowly, he started to retreat to reel you in with your faces mere inches apart. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him down to get onto his back.

Who knows when’s the next time you would ever to be able to do this? In the back of your head, you knew this was a heat of a moment kind of thing, eventhough it made you a little sad, you wanted to kiss him again and again.

And he was more than willing to entertain it.

You could taste yourself off his lips. The dirtiness of it all made it hotter. His nails running up and down the side of your thigh as your chest pressed against his.

You moved down, planting little kisses down his gorgeous physique, you hands gripping on his sides as he watched. His hand reached out stroking the top of your head.

This had to be a dream.

You looked up when you reached the drawstring of the shorts he had on.

“Okay, okay, just be gentle,” He asked softly. “I’m a little… uh…”

With your teeth, you undid the little bow and tug his shorts down. Rumour confirmed: he was huge. Girthy, long, with cum already dripping down its sides from tip.

You thought you were seeing things wrongly so your hand reached out to hold it by the base and stroked up.

“Needy?” You teased.

Mingi’s brain electrocuted for a second, unsure if it was the tone or your hands. He flinched, “S-shit, baby, I’m really… hold on—“

You leaned forward, wrapping your hand comfortably around the base as you started to return the treatment he just gave you — tenfold. Mingi’s flustered face transformed into a look of pure satisfaction.

The way you licked, kissed, and sucked all over his shaft, he’d float if he could. The lewd noises you were making made him hiss, bitting in his lower lip as he watched from above.

“S-shit you’re doing so good.” He managed to say, leaning over to comb back your hair in his hands as you steadied your pace.

When his tip scratched the back of your throat, he was done for. You almost ended up choking on the cum that bursted out of his wet hard cock that pooled warm in your mouth, and swallowed.

The noise he made was unlike anything you’d ever heard in your decade long friendship, and it was the best he’d ever felt out of all his past experiences.

But that wasn’t why he had to take a breather. He realised how wrong he’d been doing you. Knowing how you felt about him, and how he’s been treating you made him wonder if he even deserved to see you this way.

He moved in behind you, gently guiding your face toward his for a soft, sweet kiss that made you smile. He trailed playful kisses along the side of your face as your hand caressed his. His large hands traced lightly over your waist.

If foreplay was this good already, he could only imagine how mind boggling actually fucking you would be. But he seemed to enjoy finally being able to shamelessly kiss you and touch you wherever he wanted more though.

You, however, had a different thought. The lines of your friendship were already blurred. Being with him like this had been a fantasy, but now you were stepping into uncharted territory, where everything about your relationship with him might change — if it hadn’t already.

That’s when reality hit, your smile fading. You needed a moment to pull back.

He started slowing down when he noticed you or your body weren’t really responding to him anymore.

It hit you like a cold splash of reality—his stories of conquests, the way he casually shared tales of his past flings, and how effortlessly he moved on from each one.

“Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

In that moment, you realized you were just another number on his hit list, a fleeting moment in his game, and the weight of that truth settled heavily in your chest, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

Even with his own doubts, Mingi was still ready to take things further right then and there, but seeing that look — the one you make when you have a lot on your mind — he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

His hand reached out, caressing the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear in comfort, “We don’t have to, you know.”

You nodded, “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m thinking a lot right now.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at you, shaking his head in reassurance before closing in to kiss the side of your head.

He shifted on the bed, pulling you into an embrace and brought you close to him under the sheets.

You’ve shared this bed several times over the years, but never this intimately, without a pillow barrier or clothes on. This easily felt very new to both of you, yet still comfortable enough.

As you cuddled facing eachother, you turned to the ceiling as your thoughts began to swirl. You had settled the argument from earlier with your bodies, but the confusion in your heart still remained.

“Are you okay?” Mingi finally asked, concern in his eyes as you took your time to answer.

“Yeah, just…” The room felt colder, smaller, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes as you turned to look at him. “I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want us to end up being… nothing.”

“You’re not like the others,” Mingi said softly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m serious. I’m sorry for the stupid things I said. You are… you’re everything to me. You’re it, and—”

You’d heard it all before. You knew his usual pretty words for his pretty girls thanks to his stories but what you didn’t know was how he actually meant what he said this time.

“Look, Mingi…I just can’t do the whole friends-with-benefits thing. I can’t just stay friends after this. I need you all in if you’re going to be in my life.” Your voice trembled, and each word felt like a struggle. This boy had a grip on your heart that made the thought of losing him hurt. “If you can’t do that, you really need to go tomorrow morning, okay?”

He took a moment to let your words sink in, the silence stretching between you. Then, quietly, he leaned in and kissed you—a soft, gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his skin soothed you in the cool air as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

[raguiras]

Meet my Yumeship

Yay, the second part of my official Allen x Deuce ship introduction is here! (FIRST PART)

Reblogs are super appreciated teehee

The ship's blog (daily facts, rambles & more est. May 2024): @spade-of-storms

Explanation of the chart & the first part of the relationship timeline below the cut!

I've also been cooking something else up for the past few days, so please look forward to it!

The reason why Allen and Deuce's behaviour towards each other is so different in comparison to how they act with other people is actually quite simple.

These two have a ridiculous amount of kinship. Their experiences, wishes for the future, worries, opinions and morals are essentially the same despite being different, which allows Allen and Deuce to have an absolutely blind understanding and extremely easy communication with each other. Additionally, their experiences are reversed (former honor student with great self-control who's now a lowkey delinquent & former delinquent with little self-control aspiring to be a model student), which adds to them being able to efficiently help and understand each other entirely on a very deep, personal level.

Deuce is able to open up A LOT more to Allen than to anyone else due to their special intimacy. While everyone knows Deuce as a hardworking guy with regrets who wants to better himself, Allen has access to much deeper feelings because of how much Deuce trusts and relates to him. This not only sets Allen (who is my Yuu) apart from the canon Yuu, but also explains why the relationship timeline below talks about Deuce's feelings and struggles on a much more intense level than the game does.

But how did they reach this point? And how did their relationship get so intense? Here's a little bit of a relationship timeline!

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PROLOGUE

Allen and Deuce met on their first day of school when Allen was chasing Ace. For Deuce, it was pretty much love at first sight and he immediately knew he'd love to get to know this mysterious, mildly intimidating boy — Allen radiated an aura of intelligence, confidence, extreme toughness, ethereal beauty and utter determination. Deuce was pretty much just staring at him like "...woah".

Allen displayed a lot of these very characteristics (+ maturity) during the prologue and Deuce was already admiring him a ton. This guy really had all the attributes that made Deuce nervous around someone, huh...?

Due to Deuce's extreme determination to not get expelled, Allen immediately sensed that something was off. Teens (including Allen himself) weren't usually this keen on going to school... And Deuce, too, had his suspicions about Allen due to how this mature, composed and witty boy dressed like a rebel.

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BOOK 1

When Deuce first displayed his delinquent characteristics, Allen not only comforted him, but also opened up about his own tendencies and the fact that he used to be a model student before he became a lowkey delinquent himself. Deuce was a bit impressed that Allen was just like him in a way, so his kinship towards him immediately grew. However, the second Allen offered to help him with his impulse control and talk more about these topics, it was absolutely OVER for Deuce — not only was Allen pretty and smart, but also similar to him and willing to give him a safe space despite barely knowing him.

For Allen, this was a fairly unusual gesture as well. He's often apathetic and doesn't usually offer to help people nor relates to others. However, seeing that Deuce struggled with the exact same thing as him in a different way, Allen didn't even have to think about it and immediately knew that he wouldn't regret talking more to a rare person with similar experiences and thoughts. Maybe they could help each other in a way...?

Shortly after these events, they already started talking about their experiences together. However, it was mostly Allen asking questions about Deuce first, trying to keep his own past in wraps. Deuce's past and his regrets felt familiar to Allen, and he admired Deuce's aspirations to become a model student. He did, however, sense that something was off.

As they hung out more during Book 1, Allen's secret suspicion that Deuce tried too hard to be someone he naturally wasn't slowly confirmed itself already. Deuce expressed a dislike towards hard topics from class and struggled heavily with his homework, yet kept saying that he had to do well. What came off as someone being ambitious and working hard to others was the beginning of self-destruction in the eyes of burnt-out former honor student Allen, and he decided to keep an eye on Deuce. Additionally, Allen offered to tutor him, which Deuce excitedly accepted.

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BOOK 2

Between Book 1 and Book 2, Allen's brain decided to randomly let him relive the pain he had experienced as a bullying victim back in his world in great detail. That exact night, Deuce came to Ramshackle after a fight with Ace, wanting to ask Allen if he could stay over. This was when a violently crying Allen opened the door... and Deuce's suspicion that something was wrong with Allen was confirmed, too. When Deuce asked him about what had happened, Allen decided to finally open up about his past — after all, the other boy had done the same — and it only made Deuce's feelings grow. Allen assumed that he was being perceived as weak for crying, but to Deuce, it only made him even stronger. Enduring all that unjustified hatred and still carrying on with confidence... it was nothing short of admirable to Deuce. Additionally, he felt both saddened and incredibly angered hearing how Allen was severely bullied and almost driven over the edge because of something he couldn't control. This boy was so beautiful and special... why did he have to suffer? Was he doing better these days...? That night, Deuce made a silent promise to himself that he'd protect Allen.

The two kept spending lots of time with each other, talking and developing more and more trust with every sentence. They were so similar... two delinquents perceived as scary who both wanted to prove others wrong, be admired, craved meaningful relationships, hated bullies, had experiences with anger issues, wanted justice to prevail, and struggled with school in some way... and this wasn't even everything yet. Additionally, Allen started showing Deuce some effective ways of handling impulsiveness that worked on himself, too, and Deuce was intrigued. The two also didn't hesitate to rant together, which allowed both of them to let off steam and be angry in a safe environment while being fully understood by the person in front of them.

Allen also helped Deuce with his studies more often. However, Deuce sometimes kindly declined his offers and simply asked Allen to supervise him instead, wanting to learn and study by himself in order to prove himself that he could indeed achieve better grades through his own effort. Allen silently watched out for Deuce not pushing himself too hard because he could sense that what looked like hard work on the outside was tied to something much deeper on the inside...

When Deuce walked in on an annoyed Allen one day, he found out that the blonde boy had "messed up" a drawing and blamed himself for not being a good artist. Deuce comforted him and thought that Allen's art was genuinely amazing, but what the boy said next shattered Deuce's heart. "I don't care if I'm good... apparently I can only be someone if I'm the best at something. And I'm far from being best at anything. I'm doomed to be a nobody, I guess." Never in a thousand years did Deuce expect the current Allen — the seemingly perfect, confident, calm, tough and effortlessly beautiful Allen who often had a sly smirk on his face — to think about himself like this. After asking if this was the only thing Allen felt insecure about, the boy decided to open up further and tell Deuce how he also despised his own appearance. The blue-haired boy was genuinely shocked because to him, Allen was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and he couldn't care less about Allen's rather unique body either. How could he show Allen that he was actually stunning...?

In return, Deuce also opened up about his own insecurities to Allen on a deep level — something he had never done before out of fear of being made fun of. While the Ramshackle student wasn't surprised, it still hurt him to hear just how lowly Deuce thought he was... What sounded like a motivated "I don't have a lot going for me, but I'm doing my best!" to everyone else had always been a "It hurts to have nothing other than negative traits going for me and I hate myself for the fact that I don't improve at anything no matter how hard I work" in Allen's eyes, and here was the direct confirmation. If only Deuce could see that all those 'negative' traits he had were actually admirable and useful...

The two ended up having an extremely heartfelt talk that mostly consisted of them showering each other in genuine compliments and admiration. Deuce had never been able to see the things he hated about himself in such a positive light... and his heart was yet again beating like crazy.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

BOOK 3

When finding out that Deuce had made a contract in order to get better grades, Allen got even more concerned due to the boy's desperation and decided to finally have a heart-to-heart talk with him about how hard he was pushing himself. Allen knew that being a model student was a role Deuce was forcing himself into too hard and that it was prone to go wrong, especially considering how Deuce's natural self was quite different from it. Since part of Allen's trauma stemmed from being an honor student himself, overworking himself a ton, and having to deal with a ridiculous amount of highly unrealistic expectations and passion, he didn't want the same to happen to his friend — but if Deuce neglected himself and paid attention to nothing but his honor student persona, it was prone to happen one day. Allen told Deuce that there was no shame in accepting help, and the Heartslabyul student eventually saw that relying on himself only wouldn't help with improving his grades. As a result, Deuce started accepting Allen's offers to assist him fully, and Allen immediately came up with some original study methods and mnemonic bridges tailored specifically for Deuce. Additionally, Allen wasted no opportunity to tell Deuce yet again that he didn't have to change the core of his being in order to become the person he aspired to be, and that Deuce's "negative traits" were actually helpful assets.

Whenever Deuce wasn't busy at the Mostro Lounge, they would study together. Allen made sure that it was enjoyable and fun for the already stressed Deuce and paid great attention to his wellbeing. Every time Deuce was about to fall back into his old behaviours due to the stress and feeling of betrayal stemming from the entire Octavinelle situation, Allen reminded him of the impulse control methods or introduced Deuce to new ones. At other times, they would find a secluded place where Deuce could safely let off steam... Slowly but surely, the Heartslabyul freshman was able to get his anger under control.

The second it was obvious that Allen needed a new temporary residence, Deuce immediately knew that he wanted to share a bed with him. He accidentally mentioned this thought to Ace, who then teased Deuce about a possible crush on Allen. Deuce obviously denied everything and said that Allen was merely his best friend, but deep down, he knew that Ace was completely right. When Ace later suggested that Allen shared a bed with either him or Deuce and Allen denied in order to stay at Savanaclaw, Deuce's heart ached a little and he simply laughed it off.

By now, Deuce and Allen were much more touchy, too. Allen usually hated it when people touched him, but Deuce was an exception due to how close him and Allen already were at this point. And every time Allen touched Deuce, a firework went off within the Heartslabyul student's heart...

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

BOOK 4

Allen didn't understand why he was suddenly feeling empty at the knowledge that Deuce left for home during the holidays. He was merely a friend, right? Why did his two-week departure sadden Allen...?

The second Deuce read Allen's SOS message, he immediately packed his things and stormed off. He would've done the same for other friends, but certainly not reacted this impulsively... and knowing that Allen was in a tricky situation literally freaked him out. When his mom asked Deuce why he was leaving for school in the middle of the holidays, the teenager explained everything to her... and finally admitted that he loved Allen. Dylla was the first person to know about Deuce's massive crush and immediately pulled him into a hug.

Deuce was extremely fidgety and nervous during the entire travel back to NRC and Ace couldn't miss it. When he said that "Allen was merely in a difficult situation, you should chill", Deuce verbally lashed out at him and went on about how great Allen was. Ace then brought up his suspicion that Deuce liked Allen as more than a friend again, and Deuce simply replied with "So what if I do?!" this time. Needless to say, the rest of the ride was packed full of teasing and jokes at Deuce's cost...

The minute Allen and Deuce reunited, they shared a lung-crushing hug and felt their hearts race like crazy. Deuce was incredibly happy to see that Allen was doing okay, and Allen suddenly felt much happier...

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

That's it for now! The happenings from Book 5-7 and everything after that up until they finally start dating are going to covered in my next Allen x Deuce post. I hope you liked it! ♠️🌪

If you have any questions about the ship or want to draw them, please do not hesitate!

[hotchs-big-hands]

I've been thinking about Aaron finding out you've been masturbating to the thought of him... telling him you sometimes have to sneak off to the bathroom while you're in public... him calling you about something unrelated while your hands are down your panties....

Lowkey obsessed with the idea of Aaron finding out how feral you are for him

🦴

YASSSS you're not even dating!!! He started having suspicions cuz you sound so... off to him and sometimes he has to repeat himself when asking you or telling you things. So he conducts an experiment...

You're on a case, it's in the evening and you've retired to your rooms. As you're getting ready to go to bed your phone rings; it's Hotch. You're surprised, groaning a little at the thought of possibly having to head back out. But you answer anyway.

And god... his voice is so fucking sexy and sensual, deeper with tiredness as he discusses details abt the case... or something like that. You don't even know, his voice is doing naughty things to you, your pretty pussy is tingling and you can't stop your hand drifting down inside your underwear. You gasp a little, causing him to pause.

"Is everything alright?" He asks you. You clear your throat and force a chuckle.

"Mmm I am. Just thought I saw a spider on the floor but it wasn't really one. Guess I must be real tired, sir."

You hear him hum.

"Yes, very. Perhaps I should let you sleep now then-"

"-A-ah no! I- I'm okay to discuss the case still!" You squeak quickly, cheeks feeling warm from the outburst. There's silence for a moment and your hand in your panties stills.

"Very well, I would come and stop by but I assume you're already dressed for bed." He drawls. You squeeze your lips together to stop yourself from whimpering, opting to hum in agreement. He clears his throat. "I thought as much. Although, I am curious why you sound a bit out of breath."

Your eyes widen, thighs clenching together.

"O-oh I think it's the adrenaline of thinking I saw a spider."

"You must see a spider every time we talk then." Aaron cuts back. You gasp out, fingers rubbing rapid circles around your swollen clit.

"S-sir no I just-"

There's a knock on the door, startling you into squeaking again and freezing in place.

"U-um sir, I'm going to have to go. Someone's at my door." You say quickly, ripping your hand from your pussy and trying to adjust your clothes. "I-I'll work on my diligence in future, sir!"

Before he can answer, you end the call and fumble around to clean your hand enough to go open the door. You rush over to it, unbolt the lock and pull the door open. And then your mouth falls open; Aaron Hotchner is fucking standing on the other side, phone in hand as he towers over you. His steely gaze wanders over your dishevelled form, to the messy sheets and he nods once.

"Mhm, thought so."

He forces you to retreat back into the room and closes the door behind him, locking it. You have a lot to answer for...

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Okay, my one and only major complaint about Bad Batch is that I don't think they handled Tech's death properly (I still don't think they should have killed him off at all, but here we are; and even if they intend(ed) to leave things open-ended to maybe bring him back later, the titular characters in the show wouldn't have known that); and with all the reasons I've seen floating out there as to WHY Tech's death was handled the way it was and why the characters reacted the way they did (or didn't), I just want to explain why none of the "reasons" cut it for me. If you're satisfied with how Tech was handled in season 3, I am genuinely happy for you (and lowkey jealous, ngl 😉). I've just been thinking about this a lot and need to spell it out!

Reason #1: "Why do we need to see more of the characters mourning? What we got was enough. We don't need a 2 hour episode that's all about the characters grieving." (Yes, someone actually used "2 hours" in their argument.)

Let's recap what we got: 1) A scene where Echo looks sadly at the Marauder's pilot seat, Wrecker actually sheds some tears (bless him), Omega's in denial, and Hunter tells Omega they're going to retire on Pabu because Tech is gone... followed up almost immediately by the villain dropping off broken goggles as the only proof that Tech was ever on Eriadu; 2) a scene where the audience is shown Tech's goggles but Hunter doesn't interact with them- instead, he looks at Lula, proving that his driving motivation is recovering Omega (which is fine when taken from the perspective that he can't do anything about Tech, whereas he can do something for Omega; but that perspective is ultimately just headcanon because the show never reiterates or follows up on this); 3) Wrecker alluding to Tech (not by name) to try to convince Hunter to be more cautious; 4) Omega name-dropping Tech (wait, does Crosshair even know what happened?... yay for context clues, I guess); 5) Echo name-dropping Tech in relation to data decryption with the team looking down sadly for 5 seconds (I timed it) before Crosshair changes the subject; 6) Phee name-dropping Tech in relation to her not knowing what m-count is; 7) Crosshair referring to Tech's information on Ventress; 8) Omega leaving Tech's goggles in the Archeum with none of her brothers around (hot take: it kinda bothers me that the goggles are given the same treatment as Lula, I totally understand the context/deeper meaning of Omega leaving her childhood behind by leaving Lula, but we're talking about the one relic they have of their fallen and irreplaceable brother being given the same emotional weight as a doll); 9) Phee referring to Tech having a discussion with her about Crosshair while Tech's goggles are in the background (and, noticeably, Crosshair doesn't react at all and just changes the subject back to needing a ship); 10) Crosshair says the squad died with Tech, Wrecker says Tech understood the risks, and that's that.

So, what we got was enough to establish that the characters were sad in the immediate aftermath of Tech's death, that some of them may have stayed sad about it all through season 3, and that the show didn't completely forget that Tech had been a main character at one point.

What we DON'T get is any real reference to what Tech meant to the family as an individual and a brother, any real indication of how the loss of Tech (distinct from the mission to save Omega) influences his family's actions or the story's overall narrative, any actual acknowledgement in the show of Tech's sacrifice having any meaning or the family moving past grief to express any form of gratitude for Tech's presence and influence on their lives, any reference to Tech having a true impact on 4 of his 5 siblings (Omega is the closest we get to witnessing Tech's continued influence on any of his siblings and even seeing that involves squinting/head tilts at times)... in other words, we get a few minutes of sadness, but never any catharsis. We see they miss him, but never does this truly inform the narrative or their decisions in season 3, AND it's left frustratingly vague where the characters are in the grieving process (more on that later).

Besides, no one (that I have come across, at least) was ever asking for a 2 hour episode. At most, Kanan got a 22-minute "eulogy" episode, and most of us aren't even asking for that. I'd have been at least minimally satisfied with a "Mayday moment" for Tech - and that scene lasted a grand total of 20 seconds. What would have been more satisfying would have been the show taking all those superficial name drops and converting at least a few of them into meaningful mentions indicating what Tech means to his brothers and/or how he continues to have an influence on his family and/or how his sacrifice is a motivating factor for them.

Reason #2: "There was no time."

Leaving aside the fact that there was apparently plenty of time and opportunity to make Tech (among others) a red herring...

Let's assume that the showrunners were not only told they only had 1 season left to wrap everything up, but were given highly specific time allotments for each episode to where they weren't allowed to add any scenes (I highly doubt this is what happened, but we're rolling with the "no time" thing here). You know what you do in that scenario when you're talking about something like following up on a main character's death that clearly has left your entire fanbase in an uproar? You MAKE time: you trim down the action scenes, you make the characters walk a little bit faster, you decide whether an extended scene of Echo giving Omega a crossbow that is never going to show up again is actually worth saving (I actually like the scene, by the way; just giving an example), you cut out a few of the extremely vague lines of dialogue Fennec and Asajj indulge in. What you DON'T do is kill off a beloved main character and then rely on convenient time lapses/time skips to just brush over all the fallout apart from a few name drops that do nothing to establish just how important said character was to the other characters in the show.

What's more, they could have EASILY included some true closure with ANY of the Tech name-drops/scenes that were already in the show. Have Hunter look at Tech's goggles before looking beyond them at Lula in 3.02. Have the brothers be present with Omega when she decides to leave Tech's goggles in the Archeum in 3.11. Have any of the brothers say one meaningful line about Tech while they're otherwise silently basking in the sunshine in the end scene on Pabu in 3.15!

Reason #3: "They're soldiers."

Of all the reasons given for why Tech's death was mishandled, I dislike this one the most. What does CF99 being soldiers have to do with the aftermath of Tech's death being reduced to perfunctory allusions? (If you want to get into the argument that soldiers in general have to figure out a way to "move on" and The Clone Wars didn't really spend any time on the clones processing losses after battles, let me just say I don't care for how this topic is covered in The Clone Wars either, and Bad Batch was a golden opportunity for the Star Wars franchise to move past this unfortunate trope.) Fallen soldiers in real life get memorials/funerals too, even if it's months after the battle. Fallen soldiers are honored and remembered by their families and those closest to them. If the show is trying to push the stereotype that soldiers move on from tragic deaths of comrades by being "stoic" and holding it all in and never talking about it, I strongly disagree with the perpetuation of this stereotype; and if the characters as soldiers actually DID grieve Tech in a healthy way, why didn't the show depict it?

Reason #4: "Star Wars writers don't know how to write meaningful scenes/payoff regarding death and characters dealing with death/loss."

The Bad Batch writers proved time and again how brilliant they are at writing emotional storylines with maximum payoff. Case in point: Mayday. Enough said (I'm writing too much on this general topic as it is).

Reason #5: "They got over it."

Maybe I'm reading things wrong, but a rather drastic change in behavior for one character (going from cautious and weighing all risks, to reckless and jumping headfirst into situations without proper backup), and another character including Tech's death as just one reason why he "deserves" to go on a suicide mission, does not read to me as the characters "getting over it." It reads to me as "avoidance behavior" and "continued internal conflict." (Granted, Hunter's more reckless behavior in season 3 likely had as much to do with the Omega situation as it did Tech's death, but the point still stands. And if the point DOESN'T still stand, then I've got even MORE issues with how this plotline was handled, so we'll just keep assuming it does.)

Furthermore, if the characters had truly "gotten over it," there shouldn't have been any hesitation or issue with them discussing and honoring Tech in meaningful ways.

Reason #6: "They DIDN'T get over it."

Right, and we ended the show that way, with no clear resolution to them actually coming to terms with Tech's death and honoring his memory. Great.

Reason #7: "Whatever. It's good Tech stayed dead. Tech's sacrifice meant something."

... Did it? Did it really? I mean, I know I say quite frequently that Tech's sacrifice is what made the happy ending possible for the others (because that's the only thought that got me through a rewatch of season 3). But the show, the narrative itself, certainly doesn't act like it really meant anything. Hunter says in the season 2 finale that they "weren't going to waste Tech's sacrifice" because they were going to retire on Pabu... and that discussion promptly gets forgotten and never brought up again, not even when the squad is trying to stay off the Empire's radar in season 3 after Omega returns. Never is there any discussion that "not wasting Tech's sacrifice" by hiding on Pabu to make sure no one else dies (a very understandable reaction, of course) also goes against the very mission Tech pushed for in the first place: rescuing Crosshair. Never do we hear Omega tell Crosshair, "Tech didn't give up on you, I'm not giving up on you, that's why you ARE going to escape with me." Never is there any talk about "Tech wanted us to live and stay together, so that is what we are going to do." Never is there any acknowledgement at the end of the show that they are all going to live in peace on Pabu because Tech made sure they could live.

The last half of season 4 of Rebels is full of references to Kanan's sacrifice actually meaning something and having direct tangible consequences not only for the family but for Lothal and the Rebellion. For one thing, the show itself literally spells out that the mission to shut down the Imperial factories on Lothal was actually a success because all the fuel reserves were destroyed - Kanan had died, but the mission had succeeded and directly led to the success of the bigger mission to completely free Lothal, and while this is very poor consolation for the loss of Kanan, at least the show openly acknowledged it. Kanan and his influence is also openly credited for Ezra foiling Palpatine's plans with the Jedi Temple and the WBW, Ezra learning to let go and again disrupting Palpatine's plans in the finale, and doing what was needed to ensure Lothal was fully freed.

Imagine how different Rebels would be if Kanan's death had been treated like Tech's: no mention that his role on the mission had any impact whatsoever. No reference to Ezra or any other member of the Ghost crew living up to what Kanan had taught them all - or, at best, there's a perfunctory reference in the epilogue that Ezra decided to keep using the Force the way Kanan had taught him to. No depiction of Ezra or Hera or Sabine or Zeb accepting Kanan's death and letting go of the pain while holding on to the memories. Nothing to show that any of the Ghost crew members act in memory of Kanan or that he is a motivating influence on them. No indication that Kanan's sacrifice drives Ezra to decide to follow up on their initial success with the factories and ultimately completely drive the Empire from Lothal.

Rebels just wouldn't be nearly as fulfilling.

Now, imagine if Tech's death had been treated like Kanan's, and maybe it will become more clear why I have a REALLY hard time agreeing with the argument that the show itself actually depicted Tech's death as "meaning something."

[number1mingyustan]

- Cuffing Season-

Your Impact

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, size kink, switch!reader, switch!gyu, dom!reader, sub!gyu (he just has a hard time admitting it), unprotected sex (riding), light bondage, scratching, kissing, cursing, pet names, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, lowkey brat taming

Summary: Mingyu would actually do anything for you

Word Count: 2.8k

_______________________________________________

(a/n: i don’t usually write the dudes being submissive but idk i kinda love it now 💃🏽)

“You know that boy is totally whipped for you right?” Your friend Mai says.

You and Mingyu are currently hosting a barbecue with some friends. Mingyu has finally gotten things better with the company, so he's not working as much. He doesn't have to go in for work at all today, and he figured he'd spend it with the people he loves.

He insisted on hosting and almost went out a bought a new grill just for it.

"What?" You say, turning your head to look at her.

"Mingyu... I'm sure he'd do anything for you. I've never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at you," she says, eyes locked on the

Mingyu stands in your backyard with a beer in hand. He's wearing a black muscle tee and conversing with some friends. He looks so good even when he's not trying.

He notices you staring and turns his head the slightest bit to your direction before shooting you a wink. Your face grows hot. Even though it's nearly four years into your relationship, he still makes you nervous.

There's truth to her words. Mingyu has never shied away from showing you how much he loves you. Even earlier this week when he was two steps away from buying the pointless new grill, all you had to do was tell him you didn't need it and he listened to you.

"He'd only do anything for me because he knows I'm right," you joke back.

You laugh, but truthfully her words have got you thinking.

__________

"You okay baby?" Mingyu asks as he brings the last tray of food inside. "You've been quiet lately."

All your guests are gone and it's back to you and him. You're standing at the sink washing some of the leftover dishes.

"Yeah," you give him a small smile. "Just a little tired."

Lie. You're not tired at all, you've just got something on mind that you can't shake. It's what Mai said earlier in the backyard.

"Mingyu... I'm sure he'd do anything for you"

Anything.

Anything entails a lot, and it's got you thinking all kinds of thoughts. There are a number of things that have crossed your mind, but you've never been confident enough to think he'd actually go along with it.

"Well I'll finish cleaning up and you can go upstairs okay? Get some rest baby," he places his hand on your arm gently.

"You don't have to–"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off. "Mostly everything is cleaned up already. It's no worry."

He kisses your cheek and sends you on your way upstairs. But rest is still the last thing on your mind and you've already got an idea brewing in your head.

________________

When Mingyu enters your shared bedroom upstairs, you're nowhere to be found. He strips himself down to his underwear before sitting down on the bed.

The door is closed, but he notices the light is on in the bathroom connected to your room.

And moments later, you walk out in one of his t-shirts.

"There you are," he says, large hands pulling you over to him by the waist.

"Gyu," you say. "You'd do anything for me right?"

"Of course baby, what's this about?" he asks, voice laced with worry.

"Like anything anything," you clarify.

"Yeah baby, what is it?"

"I was just thinking you know... I wanna be in charge tonight. Let me tie you up," you suggest.

Mingyu blinks a few times in disbelief. He'd actually started to worry and you're just horny. He crosses his arms.

"What are you on about?" he asks.

"I just wanna be in charge for once," you inform him.

"I let you be in charge on your birthday every year baby," he sighs.

"I know... and it's my favorite day of the year."

He groans. "Baby..."

"Please? You said you'd do anything for me," you remind him.

"Yeah but I didn't think you meant–"

"C'mon baby..." You pout, pulling off his t-shirt. It revelas the lacy red set you were hiding underneath. It distracts Mingyu for a moment too. He loses his mind any time you wear red. Especially this set. "You love me, and you said anything"

"C'mon Gyu, I know you're not gonna pass up an opportunity to fuck me. I'm even wearing your favorite set." you say.

"I never said all that," he raises an eyebrow.

"Well... then we're not fucking unless I'm in charge," you say.

"You don't mean that," he frowns.

"And if I did?" You ask, pushing him down on the bed so his back meets the sheets.

"You're so cruel," he sighs.

"And your ego is fragile," you say.

"No it's not," he grumbles.

"Yes it is baby, your ego is the only thing getting in the way," you push your hips down against his. "You want this so bad. I can feel it."

"Not true"

"But you're already so hard, Gyu," you smirk.

"So what?"

"You're into this"

" 'M not," he lies.

"You are!"

"No... you're practically naked and sitting on my lap, of course I'm turned on," he defends.

"So you're not even the slightest bit into the idea?" you ask, subtly pulling out a silky rope.

"No," he lies.

"Not even a little bit?" you ask as you begin tying his hands above his head.

"No"

"So then why'd you just let me tie a pretty bow with your hands?" you grin.

"You're just sneaky..." he groans.

"True," you say with a smirk. You reach around yourself, unclipping your bra and allowing it to fall. "But you could've stopped me, and you didn't."

This time, he doesn't even bother responding. His eyes are scanning your body shamelessly. He's fucking throbbing in his underwear. There's already precum drooling through the material.

He can say he's not into it all he wants, but his body tells a different story.

You're nearly satisfied with yourself. You've got your big, strong boyfriend tied up nearly about to cum untouched in his underwear. Someone so large and dominant like Mingyu in a position like this? It swells your ego. All you have to do now is get him to submit to you.

You begin leaving wet kissing along his skin, starting at his neck and making your way down toward his V-line. Your hand finds its way to his very prominent bulge, slowly palming him through his underwear.

"You're so hot... fuck," he moans.

You grin, pulling his underwear down and allowing his cock to spring up and rest against his stomach. "Glad to see you're finally giving in."

" 'M not," he protests. "I called you hot, didn't say anything about being your little bitch boy."

"Oh but you are my little bitch boy," you smirk.

Before he can get another word out, you're wrapping your lips around his cock. You take his entire length in your mouth, allowing his tip to hit the back of is throat before withdrawing your mouth completely and leaving him squirming.

"Fuck's sake," he groans.

"Such a pretty cock," you say, swiping your thumb across the tip. He lets out a hiss. " 'S big and pretty Gyu... just like you.

"D-Don't say stuff like that," he whines.

"Why? Scared you might like it too much?" you bite down on your bottom lip.

"No... it just doesn't suit me," he pouts.

"You don't think you're pretty?" you tilt your head to the side.

"You're the pretty one," he compliments.

You grin. "Thank you baby." You press a quick kiss on his lips. "You're pretty too though. So pretty and big, I love it. I only say it cuz I mean it."

He groans.

You lick your lips before sliding your damp panties down your thighs. Once they're off, you're quick to toss them onto Mingyu's face with a giggle.

"Baby girl..." he groans.

He tugs on his restraints, but it does nothing.

"Feel how wet they are?" you ask.

"Uh huh. Just for me?"

"Yeah Gyu, only pretty little bitch boys get me that wet," you giggle. “Gonna gag you with those next time.” You toss your panties onto the floor somewhere. “But for now… I wanna hear you. Gonna make you my bitch. Have you moaning and crying for me.”

He groans again, cock throbbing at your words. Much like Mingyu, you too have started to grow a little impatient. You lift your hips, holding his cock against your slit.

"You want it?" you ask.

He nods.

"Use your words Gyu," you tell him.

"Yes," he says.

"Good boy"

He doesn't have time to comment on the pet name because you're already sinking down on his cock. He can feel the stretch of your cunt accommodating to his length.

And fuck, it feels so good.

You're fucking him like a mad woman, circling your hips and bouncing on his cock. His tip is nestled deep inside of you, pushing in further and further with each bounce of your hips.

"Holy shit," he moans.

Your hands grip his shoulders for support.

"Love it when you ride me," he admits, tilting his head back.

"Yeah?" you smirk. "You should let me do it more often."

"Nu uh," he protests.

"How come?" you pout.

"Don't wanna," he strangles out.

"Don't wanna what, huh? Don't wanna watch my tits bounce in your face? Don't wanna stretch me out while I'm on your lap? Don't wanna Fill me up without doing any of the work? What is it Gyu?"

"Fuck you're driving me crazy," he groans.

"Your cock is so big Gyu... swear it was fucking made for me," you moan. "Always stretch me open so good"

Just when he thinks it can't get any better, the rhythm of your hips changes. You're circling your hips differently and it feels incredible.

You're spelling your fucking name on his cock.

"You're mine," you breathe out. "Say it Gyu."

"You're mine," he groans out.

"Nu uh," you stop moving, planting yourself on his cock.

He groans, tipping his head against your shoulder. "Fuck... please keep going."

"Say it Gyu," you tell him.

He groans again against your shoulder. "Don't do this to me."

"C'mon Gyu, 's two words. It's not that hard, I promise." You say.

"Fuck me..."

"I will baby, just say it first. I promise. You know I don't break my promises," You assure him.

"Fuck," he groans again. " 'M yours, I'm fucking yours baby”

"Good boy," you start bouncing again, picking up in speed.

"Don't say that..."

"Why? Scared you might cum too soon?" you tease.

He moans out in response. Being completely honest, you were right. He could already feel how close he was, dangerously close. Your stamina has never been this good and he's mentally cursing himself because if you don't stop soon, he'll cum before you.

But you're just as needy as him. You won't stop any time soon. Matter of fact, this position is perfect. It allows you to press your clit against his pubic bone, providing you with another layer of friction. You're in a blissful state, feeling every stretch of his cock and thoroughly enjoying your ride.

"C'mon baby... you can't tap out on me now," you tease. Mingyu is fucking losing it. Every time you move, you're reminding him that you're the only one who can fuck him like this. He feels like his balls are gonna burst, the feeling intensifying every time your ass slams down against him.

" 'M going dizzy holy fuck–" he moans out. "You're fucking crazy."

"I know baby... your big cock just makes me crazy. Feels so fucking good, I'm so lucky." you moan.

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly. You're bouncing on his cock faster and he's really lost it.

"There we go. Cum for me baby," you encourage, each roll of your hips pulling more out of him.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! Slow down!" he cries out.

"Nu uh, you've already been difficult enough. Take it." you demand.

"It's too much!" he cries out. " 'S too much! P-please."

He can't stop it from happening. His cock is throbbing inside of you and you're just not stopping. He's pumping a huge load inside of you and his cock is so sensitive.

He can't take it. You're really not stopping either. Your thighs are sore and your body is begging you for a break. But you're too determined, heart set on overstimulating your big stubborn boyfriend until you cum.

"Hurts... it hurts," he rasps. "Fuck y/n it's too much."

He's restless beneath you, desperately tugging on his restraints to no avail. In his efforts to break free, he's pushing his hips up, fucking himself into you deeper and overstimulating himself more.

Mingyu has never expereinced this feeling. Never felt anything remotely close to this in his life. Overstimulated to this extent and submissive? You are a different kind of woman. As much as he wants to say he hates it, he fucking loves it.

If he was going to do anything for you before, he'd do anything times 10 right now. He loves you so fucking much. He's so lucky to have you. You're like a goddess to him.

You grab his face, holding him by the chin and forcing him to focus on you. "Look at me."

When his eyes meet yours, that's how you know you're broken him. A fucking tear falls from his eyes. One... then two... then three. He's fucking crying. You got your 6'2 dominant CEO to cry over your pussy.

"Fucking take it Mingyu," you growl. "You hear me?"

And then he fucking whimpers. He nods weakly, obeying and fully submitting to you.

Holy shit you're so hot. Mingyu feels pathetic right now but it's turning him on so fucking much. He never knew you had this side to you and he fucking loves it. He wants this experience tattooed onto his brain.

His eyes are still shining from the hot tears spilling. "Wasn't so hard now was it?"

All he can manage is a head shake. His cock is still throbbing inside of you, it stings in the best way possible. He can feel his body going numb. Each bounce goes straight from his cock to his head, making him feel like he might even pass out. But he doesn't want to stop.

You're scratching at his chest as you feel yourself growing closer to the edge. The pain only adds to the pleasure.

"Oh fuck! You're so hot Gyu, cock feels so good. I'm gonna cum!" You cry out. "You wanna make me cum? Huh baby?"

He manages a weak nod before you untie his restraints. He wraps his arms around your back with the little strength he has left. The closer contact allows you to rub your clit against deliciously.

"Go ahead baby, fuck me how you've wanted to this whole time," you rasp.

With his hands on your hips instantly, he tilts his head back, fucking his hips up into you desperately. His thrusts are so sloppy, but you're both so sensitive it feels to be hitting just right. He can feel his own cum dripping down his cock and he's beyond overstimulated. He can't stop fucking into you even though he's so sensitive. It feels so fucking good.

Mingyu's vision goes white momentarily when you cum. It brings a second orgasm out of his that he didn't know was possible. You squeeze around him too good, completely milking him dry of everything. Your body convulses on top of his as the blissful feeling takes over.

You've never cum this hard. And once you do, your body finally gives out, collapsing on Mingyu. You're both breathing heavily as your bodies reach exhaustion.

"Fuck..." he rasps. "You gotta hop off baby. 'M so sensitive."

You give him a weak nod before lifting yourself off of him with shaky legs and falling next to him on the bed. His cock is still semi-hard, throbbing and red.

"Where the hell did that come from?" he asks suddenly.

You lick your lips. "I've always wanted to be in charge."

"You've never put it on me like that on your birthday," he pants. "You're fucking crazy."

"Yeah," you smirk and grab his cock suddenly. He lets out a loud his and jerks back. "But you loved it."

"Fuck! Okay okay... maybe I liked it a little bit," he finally admits.

You press a quick kiss on his lips. "I know."

You swipe your thumb across his damp cheeks. "Can't believe you cried."

He weakly pushes your hand away. "Shut up."

"You big baby," you tease.

"Stop it. You're not allowing to bring that up. Ever."

You grin.

"I'm serious."

"Okay you big baby."

"Stop it!" He reaches his arms out, pulling your sweaty body closer to his.

You lay there for a moment together. It's nice, being in his arms like this. But your body is tired and you're starting to feel sleepy but you haven't showered yet.

"Gyu."

"Hmm?"

"We have to shower."

"No we don't."

"We do. We're all sweaty and gross."

"Baby..."

"C'mon, we can go to bed right after I promise."

"Okay... only cuz I know you don't break your promises."

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Pairing: Gale x reader (tav)

Prompt: Soulmate AU (sharing pain)

Description: For most of your life, it was normal things; cuts and bruises, sprained ankles and such. Your love must have been some sort of spell caster, from all the magic burns and forces you felt too. But then one day... it hurt so bad. The darkness, the pain, the hunger you felt... At least, it was a burden shared.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: minor descriptions of pain/wounds, descriptions of Gale's arcane hunger,

Notes: I wanted to write for Gale so so bad but nothing was coming to me. Until I was like "fuck it back to the basics" also these fics are such a good way to use all my screenshots. I have so so many. kinda lowkey don't like this but I've had it sitting in my drafts for so long, and just needed to finish it lol

You had thought the greatest pain you could feel in this life was that which your soulmate bore; a great, arcane hungering force that festered in the chest. Though only they bore it truly, you felt it as if it was your own pain. And you, too, felt that hunger, felt relief when it was sated and knew the pain of going without. Knew what to do when you felt it fester and want only more.

But you didn’t know what to think when you felt a sharp pain in your left eye, felt it crawl and wrench it’s way into your brain. How could you? It was something you had no explanation for (what had your soulmate been up to, then, to feel such a way?) It was only when you were abducted by the nautiloid, faced with a mind flayer and it’s tadpole, that you notice how sickeningly familiar the sensation of a worm, crawling into your left eye to make home for its self in your brain was.

So, imagine then when you met not one, not two, but six other people with tadpoles as well. You couldn’t be sure if any of them were your soulmate… but you also couldn’t rule it out. That, and you kept hearing that even more people were infected than the people you now traveled with. Realistically, finding your soulmate should probably not be at the top of your list when you did have a mind flayers tadpole… but the idea that they could be so close to you did have you excited!

But what if they were part of this strange Absolute cult? What if they had already been turned into a mind flayer (would you feel that? Would they even have a soul for your to connect to at that point?) There was a lot to worry about… Chief among them being that familiar growing hunger within your chest. But having been recently dumped off a ship, you have very little to your name to feed it…

“This locket…” You held it aloft in your fingers, soft light from the torches around your tent catching it. You had gotten it from Arabella’s mother after saving the poor girl from Kahga. You could use it’s magic to feed your soulmate’s hunger… but would the other’s notice it missing? How would you explain it’s been consumed?

“You seem to have a lot of your mind.” Gale’s voice catches you from your thoughts, causing you to snatch the locket and pocket it.

“There’s much to think about.” You hum, looking up at him. “How can I help you tonight, Gale?” You change the subject, smiling at him.

“I’ve just come to remind you to eat dinner.” He holds a bowl of something that smells far too good to be camp provisions, leaning down to hand it to you.

“You made this?” Your eyes widen as you accept the food, stomach growling in anticipation.

“Oh this is nothing,” He waves his hand dismissively. “Were we back in my tower at Waterdeep, I would show you the true extent of my culinary talent.” You take an experimental bite, smiling at the savory taste that welcomes you.

“It’s very tasty! I’m nonetheless impressed you made this with supplies from our camp packs.” You praise him, seeing the smile that lights up his face. You have to admit, it’s rather charming even if he is a little haughty. “Thank you for coming to hand this to me, I may have forgotten otherwise.”

“You’re welcome! We can’t have our leader falling behind.” He smiles, but seems like he wants to say something more before deciding otherwise. “You have a goodnight, _____.” You decide not to question it on it. Though you like to think you’ve grown close to him this past week traveling together, not enough to push boundaries quite yet.

“You too Gale!” You give him a little wave, watching as he goes back to the campfire where he must have cooked dinner. You retreat to your tent, closing off from everyone else at camp. Another, uncomfortable pang of arcane hunger hits you and with a soft groan, you put down the food.

“Fine, fine.” You groan and hold your throbbing head, pulling out the locket with the other. You study it a moment, before closing your eyes and holding it to your chest, willing that great, unknowable force within to feed on the weave it held. When the next terrifying moment it is done, and that deep ancient, hunger is sated once again. You let out your bated breath. At least for now, it is sated…

Across camp, Gale can only take a shuddering gasp as he feel’s the orb within him sated. While this hadn’t been the first time his soulmate had helped him sate the orb, this time it almost seems serendipitous that they should do so when he finds himself with nary a magic artifact (nor a tresseym to go out and hunt for one).

Once, as Mysta’s chosen, Gale had wondered what use a soulmate would do him when he was chosen by a Goddess. To be favored by Mystra, mother of the weave… It was quite an addictive feeling, admittedly. But to fall from that grace, to lose the bulk of his powers and have to face the consequences of the orb within him… only for someone who cares for him to feed that hunger, to save him hurt when they may not even know him… It’s quite bracing, and enough to bring a smile to his face. Someone out there cares, despite the pain he has caused them, and despite, for a time, thinking he could live without them.

Still, it is a burden he would rather like to take care of himself. With that in mind, Gale readies himself to tell you (and the rest of the party, though they haven’t quite earned his trust like you have) about the orb at the earliest convenience. You seemed a little troubled tonight so when the day came, he would find the time.

However, it seemed like you had much planned for the day following. Though he was there to watch you agree to raid the goblin camp, Gale hadn’t expected the strides you would make in that endeavor today alone. Already your small party had cleared out the abandoned village before the camp and now you were checking out the surrounding area.

“Excuse me, _____, if you have a moment.” Gale pops up beside you a moment as you survey the area. “I have something rather important to share, if you can spare the time.”

“You’re among friends Gale, go right ahead.” You smile at him, and notice how his face softens at that.

“Yes well,” He takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving yours. It always caught you off guard, how easy it was for him to capture your gaze. “Ever since you freed me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.” You watch his hands move up and around, something you’ve noticed he does often when he talks. “When you defused the situation between Aradin and Zevlor, or how you saved that young girl from Kahga…” He shakes his head a little, dark eyes meeting yours once more. “In short, I’ve come to trust you.” He smiles at you, that same boyish smile that you can’t help but smile back at.

“I’m glad you said so, I feel the same way.” You see his smile grow wider a moment, before he continues on.

“The reason I go on to say this is that I’ve grown confident enough to tell you something I haven’t told another living soul. Except for my cat.” He looks troubled for a moment, watching your face for any change of emotion. You try to keep your reaction even, merely raising your eyebrows for him to continue. “...You see, I have this… condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.” You watch his hands move before his chest in an almost frantic motion, before falling swiftly as he looks to you.

“...Okay.” You nod, looking at him carefully. “What… kind of condition?” You half frown, seeing how strange he was being about this. Not that he wasn’t already a little queer, but in this moment Gale seemed so… tense.

“The specifics are… rather personal… but suffice to say it is a malady I’ve learned to live with-- though not without some effort.” He gives a little grimace, but continues, learning in closer to you. “What it comes down to is this; every so often, I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the weave within.” Your eyes wide (in what you hope is a normal way) and you nod.

“So this… illness causes you to consume magic.” You repeat plainly, nodding. “While that is strange, I don’t think it will be so hard to accommodate.” You nod at him assuredly.

“You… don’t have any questions?” Gale asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

“Well of course I do. But it seems like you shared as much as you were willing to on the matter already.” You offer him a small smile and watch the relief spread on his features.

“I thank you for your trust in me. It shall not be unfounded.” He looks rather serious for a moment, before continuing. “Thankfully, I am sated for now, but its merely a matter of time before my craving returns. So I turn to you; I need you to help me find magic items to consume. It is vital, dare I say, critical.”

“Of course. I’m happy to help in whatever way I can.” You smile big for him, hoping he can’t hear the pounding of your chest.

“You have my thanks. Again, your trust in me will be rewarded in anyways I have at my disposal. I’m sure we won’t have to look far, Faerun overflows with magic treasure! As do our packs, in fact,” Your breath hitches at that. He was of course, talking about the locket you got from Arabella’s mother… the very one consumed last night by you (and by extension, your soulmate). What if he asked for it now? How could you tell everyone its gone already? But just as you go on to panic over a response, Gale continues.

“But, I know the allure magic artifacts hold, and their power. All this to say, I understand the sacrifice I ask of you. But if I may be so bold, its for a very good cause indeed.” Gale pauses a moment, and makes sure to catch your gaze once again. “I hope I can count on you.” You nod at him, which seems to please him.

With that, you continue on your way, heading further into the mountains to reach the goblin camp. You couldn’t help but be distracted though. How many people in the realm needed to consume magic for a ‘condition’? And… of those people, how many of them have also been infected by a mind flayer tadpole? You couldn’t help but wonder that-- distracting you enough that as you walk out of the destroyed village and over a bridge, you walk right into the next goblin camp.

“Look Klaw, look’s like dinner’s come to go.” The goblin sneers at it looks up at you. Your eyes widen as you take in the goblins. At least three in front of you that you see, some strange pack animal, and surely more in sniper points. You might be able to talk your way out of this…

“Remember, goblins often come in the dozens, not just a few.” Gale warns.

“Why’d you come this way?” The goblin huffs again, looking up at you with disdain. Yes, you could easily talk your way through this. You can feel the tug of a parasite in this one. Authority. But another, desperate part of you wants to see. If you or Gale got hurt in this battle, would you be able to see the wound on the other… Could he really be your soulmate?

You don’t remember quite what you said to anger the goblin so much, before you knew it battle had started. Thankfully, you had Lae’zel with you to enter the front lines and take out those pesky pack animals, while Gale and Astarion provided support from the rear. Though it wasn’t an easy battle by any means, the more goblins dead, the better in your opinion.

You tried to see if you can feel pain in any place you didn’t remember getting hit, but all of you had gotten one or two bad hits. There was even a point you had to help poor Astarion back to his feet after he had taken out the war drum that would call in reinforcements.

“How does everyone feel?” You call out. “I haven’t quite used all my healing spells yet, so if anyone needs a little pick me up…” You look around to your allies. Lae’zel seemed fine, having had a healing potion to take care of her wounds, and Astarion was looking decent after you had cast Lay Hands on him. You turn to Gale, to find him looking rather haggard, despite being relative safety (sans from a few archers, if you recall).

“If you don’t mind.” Gale calls you over, and you happily oblige, moving over to him while readying the spell.

“Where does it hurt?” You ask, raising your two hands as they glow with healing magic.

“Everywhere, really.” Gale laughs softly. “I feel like I got thrown around quite a bit that battle.” He shakes his head. “I’ll need to be more careful…” he shakes his head.

“You did fine, no need to worry.” You assure him, placing your hands just before his chest and letting the magic flow to him. He sighs in relief and smiles at you. “Don’t forget about yourself, though.” He adds.

“Oh I feel fine.” You assure him. A little better than the moments before, even. “I have potions if I really need them. I would rather save my magic for my allies, anyways.” Sure that everyone was feeling well, you continue to the goblin camp proper, trying your best to distract your self from your ever growing thoughts.

~*~

It isn’t many days after that (though its hard to tell, with all the battles, all the information, all the people you’ve met and helped) that you notice a familiar presence within. That aching, consuming hunger. Thankfully, in the days since you’ve gained plenty of magic items, any of which would more than be able to help Gale. Though this time, it had you nervous.

If you gave Gale an item, watched him consume it before your very eyes, and felt the pain melt away like a soft lullaby… what then? If he truly was your soulmate… what would that change between the two of you, if anything? Was Gale even interested in following his fate like that? It was all so worrisome… And, even if he wasn’t… Would you still have that familiar warm feeling in your chest when you caught his gaze?

Soulmate or not, you had… feelings for Gale. Ones that you couldn’t claim for the rest of the party. And despite everything, you still knew so very little about him. It seems as though your thoughts summoned him, as you look up to find Gale coming your way.

“Come to grab a snack?” You tease, seeing him approach you somewhat seriously.

“I…” He seems surprised a moment before recovering. “How could you tell? I thought I had done rather well in hiding my affliction…” He doesn’t seem embarrassed, more so surprised.

“Oh!” You couldn’t very well say it was because you had also begun to feel the ill effects of going too long without consuming magic. “You just seemed… a little strained today is all. Not that it effected you in battle in any way!” You assure him. “Just that it all took a little more out of you than it might usually…” Gale is quiet a moment, studying you. You can’t seem to meet his gaze, too busy studying the dirt between the two of you.

“I hadn’t known you to be so observant,” In the next moment, Gale is smiling softly. “You’ve read me correctly. My condition is… rather hungry, and I find that feeding it sooner rather than later leads to everyone being happier.” You nod at him, shuffling over to your travelers trunk where you seem to keep all the armor and weapons and goodies from your adventurers.

With your back to him, digging in the trunk, you speak. “If you don’t mind me asking… how does it feel?” You were looking for a specific ring you had picked up, one you were certain everyone would have no problem with parting with. “I mean… is it painful?” Fingers finding the cool metal of a ring of Color Spray, you carefully pull it from the trunk, ready to turn back to Gale for his answer.

“It’s…” He pauses a moment, taking time to consider his words carefully. “It starts off as uncomfortable, and if left unattended quickly become painful.” He frowns softly. “Though it has a number of unwelcome side effects, chief among them seem to be nausea, headache, chest pain…” You can’t help but grip your own chest as you felt a pain go through it. Yes, at this point, you were almost certain. There was just one thing left to do to prove that Gale was your soulmate…

“Um, I’m sorry if this is strange… but could I talk to you in private a moment?” You gesture to your tent right next to you and Gale seems surprised.

“Is this about…?” He stops himself as you shake your head no vigorously.

“It’s um… complicated. But fear not, I’m not going to deny you an item.” Gale seems concerned a moment at how you seemed to be uncomfortable but merely shakes his head.

“Very well.” He allows you to open the flap for him, and you follow him inside. It’s not as if he hasn’t seen the inside of your tent-- you often opened the flaps of it to let everyone know you were free to talk or do other things. But it felt much more intimate to be inside it, closed, with you. You seemed so different with your heavy armor and weapons to the side. In your camp clothing, you seemed so much smaller than the courageous paladin that led them all in battle.

And even now, as you looked upon him with rosy cheeks and worry, Gale couldn’t help but admire you. Who would have guess you would be so shy when it came down to it?

“What did you wish to ask me?” Gale chooses to speak first, seeing how you seem to be struggling just a tad with what to say.

“There… is no easy way to say this.” You admit, half frown fitted on your lips as you look to Gale. “If I am wrong this would be… one of, if not the, most embarrassing thing of my life.” You shake your head again, seeing the look Gale gives you. “But… I am almost certain of it, and would appreciate it if you would give me the chance to prove it to you as well.” You look to him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Prove what?” Gale watches you worry the ring in your hand, sees how you can barely meet his gaze and how you can’t seem to stop blushing despite nothing romantic or embarrassing happening between the two of you. “Please, tell me what has you acting so strange.” You heave a sigh, closing your eyes.

“Gale of Waterdeep… I think we’re soulmates.” It feels strange, falling from your tongue. Even stranger to see his reaction (how can stay so composed?) “Before you say anything I… can show you.” Before he can object, you bring the ring of Color Spray to your chest and let the arcane hunger within you (within him), feed. You feel the immediate relief, but not only that-- you see the look of awe on Gale’s face, see the tension leaving him.

“Well… that certainly is proof, isn’t it?” Even Gale is left astounded in the moment, looking at you with eyes anew. “I’ll admit I had my own suspsions… but you certainly took matters into your own hands, didn’t you?” He’s all smiles and familiar confidence, but you can’t find it in you to feel as steady.

“I… suppose so” You fiddle around a bit, finding his answer to be neither positive or negative. “How do you… feel about that…?” You ask softly. You had loved him for years and years, and finding out that Gale was the person you had loved and taken care of for so long made you so happy. But…

“How could I not be happy?” Gale moves a bit closer to you, taking your hand in both of his. “You’ve done so much for me… Now, and even before we met. To find out the person who took such good care of me is someone I’ve come to respect and trust so much… who wouldn’t be pleased?” He squeezes your hand.

“So you’re not… disappointed?” You add, rather quietly. Gale can’t help but soften.

“With you? Never.” He seems to think a moment, hesitating. “Still… to think that’s you’ve suffered though this like I have… it’s nearly unforgivable.” He shakes my head. “That my mistake led to you suffering as well.”

“Don’t say that!” You tug him closer with your hands, your strength giving Gale no choice but to comply. “Even if it hurts… I’m glad to be connected to you in this way. If I didn’t care, would I have supported you all this time?” At that, Gale smiles. “I… know it hasn’t been long since we’ve met. Shorter still since this revelation has come to light… but I do love you, even if you don’t feel the same.” You muster up the courage to admit this. “I’ve loved you for years and years… finding out you were the person I’ve been in love with just seemed to make sense.”

“… You really are more than I deserve.” Gale again squeezes your hand. “I’ll admit I… find myself fond of you as well. I was never one to put much faith into a soul mate…” You can’t help but deflate a little at that. Gale, noticing this, quickly continues. “But that’s changed since I was cursed-- since Mystra cast me out.” You blink at him, and he shakes his head. “Now that I know you feel the orb’s hunger as I do… you deserve to know the truth behind it.”

“Are you certain?” You frown softly as his hand leaves yours, but Gale merely gives you a serious look.

“I’ve cursed you as well as myself. This is something that effects us both.” Gale doesn’t beat around the bush. “It all starts with a king named Karsus…” Gale settles in to tell you of how he came to have the orb in his chest. Of the King, Karsus, who created his own weave in his ambition to rivil Mystra and once destroyed her. How Gale wanted to impress Mystra, and merely sought to return a piece of her weave back unto her-- that piece being the orb that was now inside his chest. Their union should have destroyed him but instead, the orb merely consumed his power. That, and his place at Mystra’s side; the goddess cast him aside for his folly and Gale found himself lost.

“I thought I had nothing left to live for. My powers lost, Mystra cast me aside… I was content to let the orb finish me off but…” He pauses, looking to you after staring off into the corners of your tent.

“...I remember. I had been sick and hurting for so long. I was desperate to get back on my feet, and came across an amulet that was supposed to boost my health. But as soon as I put it around my neck, it was gone. Consumed.” You smile softly at him.

“You gave me that first push forward. Luckily, even as a wizard locked in a tower, I had plenty of magic items to consume as well. But I also had Tara to go out and look for me. And… you.”

“You know, I was actually out to buy more items for you to consume before I got abducted by the nautiloid. I had wondered why you were going without for so long… Funny, to think, it was because you were also on the nautiloid.” You can’t help and smile wide. Gale returns your smile.

“Fate truly wanted us to meet, then.” Boldly, he chooses to cup your cheek before quickly pulling his hand away. You could feel your heartbeat pick up, see the flash of color on his cheeks.

“For better or for worse, we’re in this together Gale.” You instead reach out for him, taking his hands in yours. “I’ve only just found you and I’ve no intention of letting anything happen to us. No orb, no tadpole-- nothing.” You tell him confidently. “Come what may, let me help you.” His eyes widen as he looks at you.

“You truly are something else.” He smiles at you. “Very well then. I’ll accept your help.” You squeeze his hands.

You knew you were getting your hopes up, thinking Gale would admit to loving you just because the two of you were soulmates, because you admitted to loving him. But this… perhaps this was just as good. Knowing that he trusted you. That he had already liked you before knowing the two of you were bound by fate… At least now, by his side, you could keep him safe. It was a burden halved, a burden shared.

[anurst]

What He Likes

Summary: Natasha makes an observation about the girls that Jake hits on, and you jump to conclusions about his type. Let's just say you make the irrational decision to cut your hair after.

A/N: sorry this isn't a Girl Bradshaw update :( ik a lot of people have been waiting for an update. I've been lowkey spiraling but I'm feeling better now! college has been stressing me tf out but I'm starting to take better care of myself! if you haven't noticed there's a tip option now so if you want maybe tip? i don't wanna pressure anyone at all!! i figured that maybe I could get paid while writing since it's something that I love to do ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ anyway enjoy! this has been sitting in my drafts for a while

Pairing(s): Jake Seresin x (fem) reader

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol, language, inaccurate military cause I said so, reader is described with long hair

"Have you ever noticed how Hangman only goes after girls with short hair?" Natasha says beside you, and you stop mid-sip. Your eyes shift from Bradley and Bob's pool game towards Jake and a short-haired brunette.

They're both standing near the bar, and the woman gives Jake a bright smile as she laughs at something he says. The moment her hand brushes against his arm, jealousy fills you. It wasn't a secret between you and Natasha that you had a crush on Jake. Being the only woman in the dagger squad meant that the two of you spent a lot of time together.

"Nope," you respond to her, and a finger wraps itself in a strand of your hair. It's an understatement to say you have long hair. After seeing Rapunzel as a little girl, you committed to having long hair like her. It's been your pride and joy since you were young, the reason many girls have showered you in compliments about how long and luscious it is. But now, looking at Jake and the short-haired girl heading towards the door of the Hard Deck, you curse your decision to keep your hair so long.

"Hey, Princess!" Mickey calls out, and you turn to look at him. "You up for some pool?" You force a smile and stand from your seat beside Natasha.

"Only if you're up for losing again."

'Oh God, this was a terrible idea,' you think as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers run through your shoulder-length hair, and you groan. The memories from last night are a little hazy as you try to think about how you ended up in this situation.

After having one too many drinks, Bradley gave you a ride home, and you ended up in your bathroom with a pair of scissors. Natasha's words from hours earlier seemed to echo in your head as you frowned. "If Jake likes girls with short hair, I can be a girl with short hair," you mumbled as you cut inches of your hair off. Hair strands fell to the ground as you measured the ends with your fingers. Looking into the mirror, you smiled at your new hair, and a yawn slipped out of your lips as you looked down at your phone resting on the sink. "I really gotta sleep."

'This is so so so so so very bad' You squint at the uneven portions of your hair and grimace as you try to fix them. The sound of your phone ringing draws your attention away from your hair. Running out the bathroom and into your room, you answer the phone to hear Natasha's voice.

"Hey! I'm outside! Oh, and I got you an iced coffee and bagel for breakfast."

"Nat..."

"Yeah?"

"I really need your help right now..."

"What'd you do now?"

"Holy shit," Bradley gawks at you, and you groan as you cover your face with your hands. Natasha glares from beside you before she hits Bradley in the stomach. The brunette groans as he doubles over slightly before forcing a smile onto his face. "It's not that bad," he tries to reassure you.

Momentarily, you look up at him. With one glimpse of his, you already know he's lying, and you try to muffle a cry. "Idiot!" Natasha seethes as she rubs your back. Bradley raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry!"

"(y/n), it's really not that bad."

"Yeah! It's just, uh, different. You still look beautiful," Bradley says as he smiles at you. Your eyes shift between his face and Natasha's before you give them a weak nod.

"We should get going," you say with a deep breath as you puff your chest out in fake confidence. Fake it until you make it, you know? You'd try to act confident with your new hair, even if you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hide. Natasha and Bradley let you lead the way towards the classroom.

Eyes are all you feel as you walk into the classroom and sit beside Javy. You try to shy away from his gaze by placing your chin into your palm, but eventually, you turn to him with your eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Your hair..."

"I wanted to try something new," you mumble before burying your head into your arms. Maybe you should have called in sick. That'd be better than feeling like everyone's staring at you.

"Princess?" Jake's voice calls from behind you, and your head whips up and around to look at Jake. His usual cocky look is replaced with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. "You...your hair...you..."

You can't help but giggle at his words, "Yeah, I cut it last night when I was a little drunk. Kinda a bad decision," you say, your hand nervously tucking a strand behind your ear. Jake doesn't reply, his jaw still dropped and staring straight at you. Self-conscious, you huff. "If you don't like it, then just say it. I can take it."

"No! I just- uh- well-"

"Okay, let's get started," Pete says as he walks in. "Hangman, quit your drooling and sit down. You can stare at Princess some other time."

"You know, I like you more with the short hair!" Mickey says while handing you a beer. You snort and toast your beers before cheering on Bradley and Bob as they take on Javy and Reuben in pool.

A cough from behind you makes you turn around. Jake is standing there, his cheeks flushed red, and embarrassment is clear on his face. "I wanted to say that I like it— your hair."

Nodding, you lick your lips. "Sorry if I was a little mean in the morning. I just was trying to get used to it."

Jake chuckles and dismisses your apologies. "It definitely will take some time to get used to."

"I thought you'd be thrilled about it."

"Huh?" Confusion spreads all over Jake's face. Seeing him confused, you all raise a brow.

"I mean, you like girls with short hair, right? I figured you'd like my new hair, too."

"Who told you that?"

As you remember the conversation between you and Natasha, your cheeks flush. "Well, no one told me that. I just, like, kinda assumed."

"Assumed?"

"Yeah, I mean, all the girls you take home all have short hair, so I just thought you were into those kinda girls, ya know?"

"So, you've been watching me?" Jake grins, and you realize what your words have implied.

"What?! No! I just—" You're cut off when Jake starts laughing. Groaning, you put your beer down and cover your face. Jake's laughter slowly dies as he reaches for your hands to pull them away from your face.

"For the record, darlin'. I'm into you."

"Huh?"

Jake chuckles before smiling, "I'm not into girls with short hair. I'm into you," his face then looks a little embarrassed, "I thought you were so out of my league that I went after girls that didn't look like you. 'Sides, I never really took any of them back to my place."

A smile starts to grow on your face as you giggle. "You're into me? No jokes?"

"No jokes, darlin'." Without another second passing, you rush forward and press your lips to Jake's, his eagerly molding with yours. Fireworks go off in your belly as Jake's fingers brush against your short strands of hair. You both pull away, and Jake frowns.

"Can you grow your hair back out? You're always beautiful, but the Rapunzel hair was just so you."

[666writingcafe]

House Call

A Text Conversation Between Diavolo and Solomon

Diavolo: Are you awake?

Solomon: Yes.

Diavolo: Where are you?

Solomon: At MC's place...why?

Diavolo: Perfect. We'll be there shortly.

Solomon: Diavolo.

Solomon: What happened?

Diavolo: I'll start from the beginning: I got kidnapped by some sorcerers.

Solomon: WHAT?????

Diavolo: Specifically, Avarius and his group of cronies.

Solomon: FUCK

Solomon: I fucking hate that guy

Solomon: Like he was part of the reason I got kicked out of the Society even though I founded it

Diavolo: Well, he's not too happy about our presence in the human world. He seems to be under the impression that I'm using MC as a weapon.

Solomon: WHAT the actual FUCK

Diavolo: He called them a half-breed.

Solomon: *gif of someone narrowing their eyes angrily*

Solomon: How DARE he insult MY apprentice????

Diavolo: What have you been teaching MC, exactly?

Solomon: ?????

Diavolo: I have my reasons for asking.

Solomon: Well...

Solomon: I've taught them some basic spells and combat moves.

Diavolo: Define basic.

Solomon: You know...the fundamentals. Nothing too complex yet. Not until they have their license.

Diavolo: That's going to be a LOT more difficult now.

Solomon: Why????

Diavolo: Your DARLING apprentice has killed a man.

Solomon: ??????????????????????????????

Diavolo: They along with Belphie helped rescue me, but obviously we had to fight our way out. One of Avarius's people managed to cut Belphie's arm, and MC must have saw it, because the next thing I know they pulled out a knife and threw it with deadly precision into this guy's chest.

Solomon: Well shit

Solomon: That is certainly beyond anything we've done together.

Diavolo: Part of their power comes from their emotions. The rage they felt upon seeing Belphie hurt drew that out. They became a beacon of light by the time we got out of there, and they were ready to head back in there and continue fighting. I was struggling to restrain them, Solomon. I'm one of the strongest demons in the Devildom, and yet it took a lot for me to keep MC from running.

Solomon: Are they okay, at least?

Diavolo: They're currently passed out in the backseat, but they're not hurt. I figured some time in their home would help recharge them. Plus, I do NOT want them around the others right now.

Solomon: Understandable.

Diavolo: I don't think you do, Solomon. The MINUTE we got in the car and started driving, Lucifer called MC's phone, and I had to deal with him yelling at me for fifteen minutes.

Solomon: *laughing crow sticker*

Diavolo: It's not funny.

Diavolo: Like, I know he was worried about MC and Belphie leaving without a trace, but that was because I instructed Belphie to not tell him because I KNEW he would blow up like this if he discovered I was kidnapped.

Diavolo: It's bad enough that the Society is down one sorcerer. If he was there, they would have been down six members, and that might as well be a declaration of war against the human world. As it is, I have to figure out how to explain this to the Society, because in Avarius's eyes, MC's actions have proven his point.

Solomon: But you didn't make MC kill that guy.

Diavolo: Doesn't matter. As one of the head sorcerers of the Society, he has the ability to influence his colleagues into believing whatever he wants them to. If he says that I possessed MC and made them lash out against one of their kind, then that becomes the truth.

Solomon: Is it wrong for me to be lowkey impressed by what MC did?

Diavolo: In this particular moment of time, yes. Just wait until I get this straightened out with some of the more reasonable people in the Society before you start gloating. Please.

Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*

Diavolo: We're almost there. Belphie's going to drop MC and me off at the front door before heading back to the manor. I'll need your help getting MC settled in.

Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick

[butchbarneygumble]

Imagine how I must feel as one of the only fans of Mighty Magiswords. You know. A headcanons-and-fanfic kind of fan. I even cosplayed Prohyas once.

Of course, it's nothing compared to what the actual victims went through... I'm fine. But it still felt like a part of my identity has been permanently soured. I don't want to seem like I somehow have it worse, that's not my intention. Nothing bad happened to me personally. I'm only posting my own side of how I deal with the situation, to get some closure myself and show solidarity with the victims.

I don't admire him anymore, and that's putting it lightly.

Full story under cut. Content warning for non-graphic discussion of csa.

The news came to me from my ex-but-still-friend. He told me privately, out of nowhere, just dropped it on me. Like, "Hey, sorry to tell you, but the guy you like got arrested for csa". However, I am glad he told me rather than me having to find out on my own.

The news hit me, and I felt nothing in my body. I usually would get this painful fight-or-flight all through my body whenever I read something that upset me, something I've been training myself to get better with. But right now? I just felt like... "huh. That happened." It helped a lot that Magiswords wasn't my fixation of the moment. And like... it's been like I've been slipping away from it. Like I didn't need it anymore.

More and more people were talking about him, and it wasn't positive. Who? Kyle.

I talked to him. Personally, like many people did. He never acted weird to me. I admired him. I loved his art, sent him physical fanart, all that stuff. I knew more than one person said he was not trustworthy but hey, he made a show that saved my life, so it was a constant struggle between feeling like I had to pick sides. I was going through hell by virtue of my dad being terminally sick and needing constant care, so I was gonna ignore the red flags and enjoy my silly sword show that brought me such joy.

Even if as time went on it started get harder and harder.

But you know what a certain depressed horse show said? When you're wearing rose coloured glasses, red flags just look like flags.

I now think dodged a bullet.

What emotions do I feel? Betrayal. Anger. Disgust. Disappointment.

The irony about it all. The sheer painful irony of blacklisting somebody for *drawings*, and then going behind everybody's back to actually hoard *actual* csa, and revenge porn, and all sorts of nasty stuff. For the record: there is nothing wrong with being put off or disgusted by specific sorts of drawings. But the irony here is what's most painful to me. I do not like people using this as a "gotcha" for either side of this tired argument. It's disrespectful to the actual victims.

People say I can easily seperate art from the artist if I want to but... right now I don't think I want to. He's in every pore of its identity. I do not want to talk or think about Magiswords right now, and I don't know if I ever will again.

It meant so much to me. Prohyas felt like Me. Being a goofy capable adult who doesn't stop collecting things he likes just cuz he's an adult. I thought I was trans for a while and the euphoria of relating to Prohyas helped that. Then he got lowkey confirmed nonbinary and I was over the moon.

It was good. Emphasis on "was".

And to the man himself I have one thing to say: you're another one in a long history of cartoon artists who end up being unsavoury, slimy people, taking advantage of young people, especially girls, in the animation industry. Not something to be proud of. I know we talked and you seemed perfectly okay to me, personally. All I can think is thank god it never went beyond casual chats.

I guess I can finally say I never liked the joke about Vambre not liking pants. Sure, sensory issues exist, but I doubt that was the intention of the design. I have deleted my sideblog where I chronicled ooc screencaps of the show and deleted my little spotify playlist of songs that reminded me of the show. I don't want to finish my longfic where Prohyas and Flonk fell in love anymore. I can't even change it into ocs because it's just so ingrained in the show's lore. So yeah, there's that.

I'll be fine. When the news hit I took it surprisingly well. I was going to an Alestorm concert and it was the most fun I had in ages. So yeah, I've got Christopher Bowes and His Plate of Beans to fill the void of comedy music. Was fixating on Simpsons already so there's that in terms of cartoons. I'm fine.

All I can say is my heart goes out to all the victims, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't see you sooner. I hope you can heal and have some semblance of closure now that he's gotten arrested. My heart goes out to all of you and again, I am so so sorry. I wish you all the love and healing.

[hers-underwraps]

｡𖦹°‧ Some of my thoughts/headcannon's for the main 6 ｡𖦹°‧⭑.

NOTE!!!! : THESE ARE SUPER OUTDATED!!! THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS AND I JUST WANTED TO CLEAR IT OUT. SO... there are some of these that are kinda old, I don't necessarily think are that relevant anymore or I've already talked about them on here at some point in time. SO I'M SO SORRY.

I really wanted to start a new list but I also felt guilty about this list just sitting here but I also didn't want to fully fix this list cause it would take a while so that's why I'm posting.

GETTING TO THE POINT, these are probably mid and you've heard them before so this won't be as good as other headcannon posts I've done. I promise I'll do better in the future

With that being said, let's get into it!

(I probably sounded like Barncales in this image typing allat and y'all probs looking at me like shellington)

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Dashi

OMG, SHE'S MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE. AHHHHH

Girlie in STEM. I don't feel like she gets the appreciation she deserves for this. Like my girl is out here building whole ass ROBOTS and people are just like yeah whatever.

I think she would've definitely had a hippie phase. She looks like the type to collect crystals. My girl could live out of a van

ALSO, she's definitely got good fitness. She's one of the more athletic of the crew members. - My girl likes her sports what can I say

She has scrapbooks for everyone on the ship. She has personal photo albums with silly selfies (and photos she's taken when they weren't looking)

She would love Sanrio and she would have a few Sanrio-themed clips (she's my melody coded to me)

I also reckon she would've weaselled it into the other crewmates. (I feel like shellington would absolutely love it)

Indian/Australian

If she was religious - Hindu

LOVES detective movies - (Her, shellington and kwazii bond over this) (Sherlock BBC?)

Over analyses everything

Let Tweak dye her hair sometimes (she would do pink skunk hair/pink highlighting)

She used to have long hair. Everyone else on board had shorter hair and eventually, she felt bad so she cut her hair shorter. It's better this way though, it's a lot less maintenance

She's up to date on anything that's trending and probably influences the other with it. (regularly uses words like demure and tweak lowkey wants to dropkick her)

Paints her nails (sometimes the other too)

SURFING PRO - she got into it when she was really young (her love of surfing definitely sparked her love of the sea)

She IS the Lofi girl - she has GOD tier music taste

Coding god helps tweak with programming the gups/ship

When she was younger, she use to troll people online and find their IP, full name, address etc. when they pissed her off (it really refined her skills)

Makes handmade bracelets (kwasi likes to join in he does a really good job )

I forced them to make a group chat so they would just be silly.

Is a legend at national seaographic (outstanding photos)

SHE WILL DO ANYTHING to get her photos, which often puts her a risk (she and kwazii are twinning) sometimes she does outdo him on the reckless scale the ray and the whale episode

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Kwazii

THE SILLY

Ok Just one thing I wanna point out, I feel like a lot of people think of him as some goofy ahh little kid. YES, he is not "as serious" as other crew members but just a reminder he is the LEUITENT. Just because his leadership style isn't oh ho ho ho, I'm macho serious doesn't mean he doesn't know how to take care of his crew or that he is a child. GROWN MEN CAN BE SILLY TOO.

I'm sorry that's just a sore spot

He lowkey reminds me of Jack Twist (I'm so sorry)

He's the second biggest yapper (only losing to shellington) he can keep everyone engaged for hours with his stories

Has a really fast reaction time

Carbeian

My boy would have a NICE tan

I reckon he could speak Spanish

Loves learning new languages with Shelligton so he can decode his ancient stories and mysteries

A very talented artist - he's really good at arts and crafts and loves hanging out with Dashi as an excuse to do it

Despite his typically "impatient" demeanour, he can lock in and do things with intricate detail (ADHD is out to get him)

Loves map-making places they've visited in his free time. (Potential for him and Min to bond?)

Loves singing sea shanties

Would sing in the shower

pretty boy

Look I know he doesn't show it but I reckon he worries about the crew just as much if not more than Barnacles

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Shellington

THE EEPY LITTLE GUY

I love my little brainiac

He reminds me of Ford Pines. I can see him in the get-up (like imagine him in the fit OOO it would look FIRE)

The biggest info dumper. He is the biggest yapper, he loves telling everyone about everything ever.

As a child, he would try to talk to anyone about his interests. I can imagine him calling people on the phone or talking to fishy's. His family would've eventually gone insane, lol.

When he's not bonkers, he's one of the more chill crew members to be around.

His sleep schedule is AWFUL, our little insomniac needs some sleep

Crewmates would come and chill with him in his lab when they couldn't sleep (they might be feeling homesick or just rattled from the week's events) because he's usually up until the wee hours. They often just sit in silence but he's happy just be a comforting presence

FATHER - he is always looking out for the others in his own little way, he has a very caring demeanour and is sometimes the more approachable one (cause he's not AS intense (EXCEPT for when he's in the zone THEN HE's INTENSE)

He LOVES to study with the others. He's erm... PRETTY STUDIOUS and he studies with all the crewmates when they're in the mood

He studies new languages with Kwasi (especially old and forgotten ones) and they will spend HOURS unpacking mysteries

My guy needs to hit the gym - he's kind of unfit (well compared to the others anyway)

THIS GUY IS BANNED FROM THE KITCHEN ( seems like the type of guy to burn a salad)

Very tall, he is the second tallest after Barnacles

Scottish AND PROUD

He also needs glasses

He is VERY accident-prone. He's spilt quote a few chemicals and given himself a few nasty burns( probs has scars from all of them). He's one of Peso's regulars. wrap him in bubble wrap istg

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Peso

OML THIS GUY'S GONNA HAVE A HEART ATTACK

He was SO anxious when he first started. Like he was in charge of taking care of the two most reckless lack of self-preservation guys ever. Every time they would go out on missions he would just be on edge (like omg are these two coming back ALIVE)

Because of this, I reckon he would get mad at those two (easily after bad scares (LIKE THE MANTEES EP). Like it would make him so upset he'd have outbursts - " CAN YOU PLEASE STOP BEING SO FUCKING RECKLESS ALL THE TIME. I CAN'T BRING YOU BACK FROM THE DEAD" - or something along those lines. (They would feel super bad and promise him that they would be more careful (lies))

Spanish (and can speak)

Grew up a really big family, so he finds a lot of comfort in his octo family

Even though he still gets homesick

He facetime his family every week

HE'S NOT JUST SOME TWINK- LIKE AGAIN JUST BECAUSE SOME GUY ISN'T MACHO MACHO DOESN'T MEAN THEY'RE A TWINKY LOSER RAHH

On that note - he's definitely had to improve his fitness to keep up with Kwasi and Barnacles

Sometimes he's cleaning up medbay and he thinks to himself "OMFG, I have the most accident-prone reckless crewmates ever. Honestly, man, I don't know if I can do this" - (when his whole crew got wiped from the snail episode, I know he kept his cool but like when he was alone that night he definitely just pulled a

"Guys, that was not very LIVE, laugh love of you"

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TWEAK

MY GIRL BOSS, MY QUEEN MY IDOL

She definitely has HUGE muscles from all the lifting she does

Naturally has blonde hair (I know a lot of people hc her with brown hair but I've just always personally thought blonde). She constantly dyes it - (Part of me thinks she was bullied for her blonde hair (dumb blonde type of comments) and ever since she hates it. Her natural hair is a sore subject. It used to make her insecure especially because of her field. Although she didn't let it show, the comments about her hair being "too girlie" made her despise it)

Dashi definitely helped her improve her perception of this. Being the kickass she is but also enjoying being feminine helped her get over her insecurity. (She's a little more ok with letting her roots show)

MY QUEEN IN STEM. She graduated with honours. (LIKE MY GIRL IS BUILDING ALL OF THAT, I BEEN SO PROUD OF HER)

She loves watching Matpat (sometimes watches with Shellington)

She loves playing video games

Has God tier Minecraft worlds (she could sell her build designs)

Red stone GOD

Loves wearing bandanas and headbands

She loves her crew so much, (she's worked in hostile work environments before) she loves having free rein and the support

Although she sometimes worries about what would happen to the POD without her (Barnacles knows some of the basics but...)

Camera shy (canon?) (from the volcano one?)

MY GIRL DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK.

She has very little patience and can be very blunt

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Barnacles

OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN

Definitely of Slavic descent. Russian/Ukrainian (can speak) (like I know he's British or whatever but like.... c'mon)

Uber is tall like 6ft+

He's a big guy but super fit. Bro's muscles go insane

Gives the best bear hugs (obviously)

He needs a hug oml

Like zero sense of self-preservation

Would sacrifice himself to save the world ah complex

He reminds me of Raph Rottmnt (2018)

He gets VERY homesick

LET HIM BE REAL PLEASE

I feel like he would be a psychology student if he was going to study anything. LIKE this man CARES about you. (also I reckon he would be like super in psychology he's got some stuff to unpack himself

I know he has his fear of small spaces but also I reckon he has this super duper tiny fear of being alone. He likes being around people but being alone just makes him a little uncomfortable. (when he gets uncomfortable he'll start talking to himself) but generally, he's motivated to get back to his crew that he can preserve and hide it pretty well

I feel like this guy would have his mobile phone super enlarged (like you know when you see middle-aged women and their phones are just like SUPER zoomed in) because he can't see for shit

Needs glasses (doesn't wear them) he should

Sometimes, I reckon he has his moments when he just

Like sometimes he just experiences the horrors

Sometimes he quotes his favourite movies (but they're all super old ) that he thinks are "inspirational" (life is like a box of chocolates ahhh) and the crew is just like huh?

Is an avid enjoyer and user of the minion Facebook memes

*stupid* he can roll a pretty good blunt (stoner Barnacles reference) (he would get stoned which Kwazii)

——————————————————————————-------------------

So that's it. I hope they weren't too horrendous!

I'm working on a more refined list filled with better headcannons so I hope that will redeem this outdated list!

BYEE

[menlove]

do you have any girl!mclennon hcs? like how they'd do their hair, how they'd dress, their relationship etc etc

LESBIAN MCLENNON I LOVE YOUUUUU. have a dump. i think about them constantly.

in my mind (at least when they're younger), paul would look like shauna shipman (the character not the actress bc the actress is blonde w blue eyes lmfao) while john i could see being played by rachel sennott

i think i've mentioned this before but paul's first name is definitely mary. pauline is probably her middle name and she just goes by paul. john's harder i've given this thought before but never landed on one, but she still goes by john bc i say so

paul before meeting john is definitely trying to fit into the mold of nice 50s teenage girl- hoop skirts, ponytails, cardigans. when she starts getting more into rock she WANTS to dress differently but doesn't until john talks her into it and then it's leather jackets and drainies still. john just never conformed she wouldn't give a fuck about it

they'd both be in really interesting situations! because paul here is the Oldest Girl after her mom died. so moreso than in real life, the brunt of expectation & household management would get shoved on her, especially with jim out gambling and drinking. similarly, mimi would be driven to insanity with john because she's nowhere NEAR how she thinks she should be and she also sort of sees her as julia 2.0 and she's petrified for her

i think they're probably a lot more physically affectionate bc how casual homophobia between women manifests vs w men is very different, so they're allowed to sort of hang off each other as long as it doesn't Get Weird. and it does certainly get weird with them, they get called dykes more than a few times

i think paul would more readily accept being asked to wear makeup and dress proper again by brian (who is a semi-out lesbian here i can't take away the beautiful homoeroticism of brian & john's relationship) whereas john is gnashing her teeth and throwing the world's biggest fit about it. sometimes paul does her makeup for her though and that's alright.

they start to loosen up with it in '66 and get more androgynous and by pepper's era they're both THRIVING being able to dress androgynously. paul starts getting funky with her makeup around that era too and john just stops wearing it completely

john cuts her hair shorter around revolver era and paul follows suit because they're Mirrors. paul has a twiggy thing going on.

paul also grows her hair out again in the worst most untamed Mess you've ever seen around get back era.

i've had this thought that they've fooled around a bit and john's out in an open industry secret sort of way like. girls would still throw themselves at the girl!beatles i feel this in my soul and i think george and john would be out getting pussy while paul WANTS to be out getting pussy but is holding herself back. but john will Not fuck her like she fucks other girls because this would tip whatever they're doing into Romantic territory like she KNOWS it would be different with paul and this pisses paul off to no end.

of course they DO end up fucking at some point and this makes things worse for everyone involved

paul has a boyfriend who she keeps getting on and off again engaged to (peter asher maybe lmfaoooo in which case... she is lowkey also still fucking jane on the side) and john hates him so so so so bad she wants that man dead and she makes it obvious

yoko is still a woman and her and john do political lesbianism (yoko's straight, john isn't, this is as much as a disaster as anyone would expect it to be) and paul is climbing the fucking WALLS out of how mad the whole thing makes her because it's not HER that john's being openly gay with. not that she'd want to be! but it's the fact that SHE was never ASKED!

linda is also still a woman and this also makes john madder than anyone's ever been because what do you mean paul has been into women romantically this entire time and now she's having a not-so-secret affair with an american photographer and moving to fucking scotland with her? she's losing it.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader Blurb

So this originated from this post by @uglypastels but I just wanted to start organizing my stuff because I'm def writing more and I need to have the lore and shit all in one place which is why I'm posting it here.

Basically, this is rockstar!eddie having this urgent need to spoil you, he tells you to quit your job because it's stressing you out so bad and he has the means to take care of you but you refuse. Lots of fluff, Eddie is a sweetie pie with a huge heart even after his band takes off

i can see like early on in the relationship you haven't moved in with him yet and still live in a little apartment in a shitty part of town and he swears you are the one like has never felt this way about anyone before but he really tries to refrain from suffocating you with his love because he doesn't wanna scare you away. As the relationship grows he hangs out at your apartment in the evenings when you come home from work exhausted and he just loves on you and gets you takeout cause you're so tired and life has just been stressing you out with all the bills and living paycheck to paycheck. He knows that struggle all too well from his upbringing and he can't stand seeing you suffer that way cause you're his baby and you deserve to be spoiled and treated like royalty.

You've been to his house before however you dont get to go over there a lot because of how much you're working but lets just say its fucking nice. It's not super big but its so homey and also screams eddie with the metal posters everywhere and guitars and such. He even has a little pool and a hot tub that you never get to enjoy with him because of how busy you are. He can't take it anymore, he feels like you're so beyond overworked and he will not have it.

One night you're laying in your bed with him complaining about work and all the bullshit thats been happening lately and hes just playing with your fingers, putting his rings on yours and then back on his, just back and forth fidgeting cause hes nervous to ask his question. As you're wrapping up a story from another shitty work situation you're like "that's so fucked up, right!? i've been keeping an eye out for a new job though so hopefully-" and he cuts you off cause no, you won't be getting a new job that will only stress you out, not if he can help it. "Move in with me." he says suddenly. You just turn to look at him like he's insane and before you can protest he's like "no, I'm serious. Move in with me. Let me take care of you, I can't watch you do this anymore." He's super sincere about it and his eyes are all big and pleading. You go on to tell him that you can't do that, you need to make it on your own and it lowkey turns into a fight. You're telling him that you're not going to rely on a man for your wellbeing and saying stuff like "do you think that lowly of me?!" and this is not how it was supposed to go, he just genuinely wants to see you happy and doing all the things you want to do that you never have time for because you're working.

He cups your cheeks in his hands and is like "baby, I think so highly of you, I just wanna give you the world. Please let me. Let me give you all the things I never imagined I'd ever be able to." You still get defensive about it cause he's not just asking you to move in, he's asking you to quit your job and basically run away from your current life which....that's not so bad cause your current life is shit but its also so scary because its the only normal you know so how could you just up and leave it?? You turn him down and let him know that you just can't and he respects your boundaries so after that he leaves it. He still hates how miserable you are but he still wants to be there for you as much as he can. It fucking sucks cause when your car starts acting up he just wants to take it in and get it fixed cause there would literally be no financial burden on him but for you, it would cost like months of rent. To work around it, he says he'll fix it cause he has so much experience with cars and even works on his own all the time. He has it towed to his house where he can use all his tools and stuff in his garage and while he could secretly just take it in somewhere to have it fixed, he doesn't want to upset you if you found out cause he knows you would try to pay him back and he knows you'd find a way to see how much it costs and it would just add to your stress. He doesn't mind doing it himself anyway, its therapeutic so he has it up and running again in a few days.

He loves that you're so independent but it doesn't change that he just wants to shower you with everything you could ever deserve. One day he waits for you at your apartment to come home from work, he has a key and everything and he's setting up a little after work dinner date, nothing too crazy but he brought over an expensive wine for you to try and he can't cook for shit but he's trying to learn so he makes spaghetti and meatballs for you. When you step in the door, he's all excited and running toward the door to greet you, the room actually smells really good and he even threw together some garlic bread and he's super proud of himself and he's excited to see your reaction. Only when he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks because there are tears and mascara streaming down your face and you have one of those frowns that you get when you're trying not to cry but the tears are stinging your eyes. He gathers that you cried all the way home and are trying to hold it together in front of him. He just rushes over and scoops you up to hold you on the couch in his lap and you can't contain the tears anymore, you just start sobbing into his chest while he rubs your back and soothes you. "I've got you, I'm right here." He doesn't even ask for an explanation, he's just there for you and he hopes that when you're ready, you'll tell him but if not, that's okay too.

You're still full on crying, snot and all when you pull back to tell him through a wobbling voice and sniffles "I-I can't do it anymore." And he has an idea of what you're referring to but he just nods with sympathy in his eyes. "Life sucks s-so bad. Don't wanna do it anymore." You would be hiccupping and getting yourself really worked up like almost not breathing. He would shush you gently and cradle your jaw in his hand, the tears slipping down into his hand and say "Baby, you need to breathe, okay? Gonna make yourself sick." and he would help you with little breathing exercises to kinda calm your nervous system. It would work a little but you're still super upset. He sparks an idea and if you yell at him again then so be it cause he just wants his baby to enjoy life and not come home crying more often than not. He would pull your head into his chest again and just whisper "Come live with me. Please. You can quit this job, find something new that you actually like." He tries to reason with you because he knows from last time that you would absolutely not just up and leave without any plans to help pay for things even though he won't allow it. "Eddie, I can't do that to you, I don't know how long it'll take me to find something decent." You would tell him sadly although its a much different reaction than last time because it sounds like you might be on board in some way if you could work things out how you needed. "Sweets, I can't watch you do this anymore. I'd much rather you quit and take some time to find something you actually love than stay here and be sad every day. Come stay with me, you don't even have to get rid of your apartment if you don't want to but just come stay with me and decompress. Let me spoil you a little bit while you figure it out. That's all I want." He sounds so genuine and is talking so softly its making you melt.

Eventually you work out a little deal where you'll stay at his house and search for work in the area. You use up the remaining money you have to keep paying rent on your apartment that you don't even use anymore. Secretly Eddie goes to the leasing office and pays off like a year's worth of rent and gives you your money back. "What this for?" you would ask as you looked at job listings while lounging around at his kitchen counter. He'd just shrug and kiss your cheek. "Don't worry about it." But you will most definitely worry about it. You get heated again and finally pull the information out of him and he admits that he got your money back and paid off a year for your apartment so you wouldn't have to give it up should you decide you don't want to stay with him permanently. It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you but you come at it raging because he shouldn't have to do this. You're trying to argue with him but he just grabs your hands calmly and is like "Listen. I had nothing growing up, I lived in a trailer park in the middle of nowhere." You're not really sure why he's going into this, you knew this from all the late night talks where you'd just lay in bed when neither of you could sleep. "I always had to decide if I wanted to eat or if I wanted to keep the lights on. And I'll be damned if I let you go through that or anything similar to that. I don't wanna spend my money on fancy designer shit or brand new cars. I want to spend it on you and making you comfortable and happy because now I can. I never thought I'd be able to do that for someone but I can now and you're my girl. Let me take care of you in the ways I never even dreamed I'd be able to take care of someone." You start crying again because what the fuck no one has ever been so sweet in your entire life and you're like what did I do to deserve this???

He's there wiping the tears away and nudging his nose against yours. You still don't want to give in but he's so damn sweet and he's being so vulnerable with you, this is something so personal to him. "I'm still getting a job and paying my half." You choke out. He just agrees because it'll make you happy but little do you know that whenever you give him any money he puts it aside in its own account for you. You end up working at a little flower shop and its beautiful, you get to be creative and you aren't stressed beyond your limits every single day. He visually sees that you're happier and you have this glow to you. One day you're both on his couch after he came home from a recording session and you worked late at the flower shop because you'd been working on some arrangements for a big event. You're both so tired and snuggly just watching some stupid movie while snacking. He's got you in between his legs and his thumb is stroking your hip, you both forget about the movie and just start talking about endless things. It comes up that you'd like to start your own little business some day, possibly your own flower shop that also sells cute little things from other small businesses (like soaps, art, etc.). Maybe even have a little coffee bar in it. He sees the way your eyes light up and he just smiles so softly down at you. He puts you both in a position where you're sitting criss cross in front of him and he's doing the same in front of you. "Let's do it then." he says like its the most obvious thing in the world. You scoff cause you don't have even a fraction of the money saved to start a business.

He pulls up a banking app on his phone and starts tapping his fingers away before setting the phone in your hands. You look at it all confused and he's just staring at you all dopey and cute but you have no idea why. He blurts out "It's yours. Every penny you've given me to cover bills. I put it away for you." You gasp when you realize how much money has built up in the account. You want to scream at him but you also know that he didn't do it against his will, he did it because he wanted to, he never does anything he doesn't want to. He's super stubborn even when it comes to his record label trying to tell him what to do. Again, the waterworks start and you collapse into him. He starts telling you "I know you don't like that I do things like this but you're my girl and I can't help it." He would press a kiss to the top of your head and you would pull back to look up at him and just grab him by his shirt so you could kiss him with so much emotion. That night you just make love to each other for hours, you can't keep your hands off each other. You don't know it but he's also planning on buying you a ring really soon and he's going to buy the one that he's seen you stare out when you've been out with him. It's a simple ring that's more dainty than anything and it doesn't even cost a lot, he just sees the way your eyes grow every time you pass that same shop and see it in the window and he knows that he's going to get it for you.

After that night you have less trouble letting him do things for you. Obviously you avoid it if you can but you don't scold him every time he slides his credit card over to pay for things or when you find out he's paid off a loan you had taken out a long time ago for that time you went to cosmetology school a few years ago that didn't end up working out. Suddenly the balance is zero and when you call to clear it up they tell you its been paid off. You make sure to give him the best head of his life but then also complain a little because you feel guilty that he took care of it. He shushes you by shoving his face in between your legs.

~end~