#idk but either way I'm tempted to do more

[catlover4536]

So like, I'm a sucker for fusions and @sweetest-honeybee has some banger ones right here!

[x-i-l-verify]

A couple more playlist suggestions that I thought of only after I sent the ask. orz I hope you like at least some of them!!

Yonji @ Sanji

"The Lament of Eustace Scrubb" by The Oh Hellos

"Be My Escape" by Relient K

"Start Again" by RED

Yonji @ Judge

"Monster" by Starset

Yonji @ his family right before he left

"Goodbye" by Ramsey

Yonji @ his family after he left

"Echoes of You" by Marianas Trench

So I discovered this AU about 5 hours ago and it has me in a chokehold. Your Yonji is a precious bean and he must be protected at all times, and Sanji being a big brother is everything I didn't even know I wanted. <3 I hope you don't mind the influx of questions I have after going through the whole tag.

So speaking of Sanji being a big brother, have he and Yonji ever hugged? If so, what prompted it? Is Yonji more touchy-feely than Sanji in general, or are they both pretty touch-averse?

How does Yonji fight? Did he develop his own style of fighting after leaving Germa 66, much like Sanji did, or does he still fight the way he did when working under Judge? Is he still really good at fighting, or does he easily become a nonfunctional, overwhelmed mess, bombarded on all sides with everyone's heightened and fraught emotions?

Does Yonji's prosthetic arm have attachments and hidden weapons? How does he upkeep it? Does he know how it works decently enough do to it himself, or does he have a mechanic that he goes to for tuneups?

Who taught Yonji tailoring and fashion? Sanji had Zeff to help him become a master chef, so did someone take Yonji under their wing in a similar fashion? Or is he entirely self-taught?

Does Yonji ever feel bad for leaving his brothers and sister behind? Unlike Sanji, who had normal human emotions from the get-go, Yonji's been on both sides of the fence, and he knows what it's like to be the sociopathic killing machine their father turned them into. Does he wish there was some way to trigger what happened to him in them as well? Do he and Sanji ever talk about their family? We know Sanji was the only one to regularly go and visit their mother, but do you think Yonji has any memories of her as well? Does he beg Sanji for stories about her?

Where does Yonji live? Does Sanji swing by to visit him every so often, or do they keep in touch by air mail, does Yonji join the Strawhats or just travel with them?

Does Sanji ever have a "O shit, I think I might actually love him" moment when it comes to Yonji? It could be something domestic like laughing together in Sanji's kitchen they work together to prepare a meal, or something like seeing Yonji about to be injured or even killed in the middle of a fight and going "This is the only little brother I've got, not on my watch, dammit!"

Lastly, do you have any songs in mind for you AU, aside from the ones you've used for your animatics? Some that came to mind for Yonji are:

"Stray Italian Greyhound" by Vienna Teng

"To Be Human" by Sia

"Zephyrus" by The Oh Hellos

"Stigma" by V

And I think "Soap" by The Oh Hellos maybe fits Sanji's feelings toward having his brother back in his life and being willing to extend a second chance to him after seeing how he's changed.

Holy shit that's a long ask! Lemme see...

So speaking of Sanji being a big brother, have he and Yonji ever hugged? If so, what prompted it? Is Yonji more touchy-feely than Sanji in general, or are they both pretty touch-averse?

They've hugged, mostly at WCI arc. But for the most part they're touch adverse (despite being touch starved). Yonji enjoys instigating physical affection to anyone but he's not great at taking it.

How does Yonji fight? Did he develop his own style of fighting after leaving Germa 66, much like Sanji did, or does he still fight the way he did when working under Judge? Is he still really good at fighting, or does he easily become a nonfunctional, overwhelmed mess, bombarded on all sides with everyone's heightened and fraught emotions?

Yonji very rarely fights anymore. He usually quickly gets overwhelmed and becomes a mess, yes, due to all of the emotions. Whenever he gets into a fight he loses control of his Haki and it's a bad time. However, if he has a goal, (protecting someone, getting something etc.) he can power through it. His fighting style is still mostly brute force punching because he hasn't learned any other way. However, when he joins the Revs, he gets taught to be more smart about it.

Does Yonji's prosthetic arm have attachments and hidden weapons? How does he upkeep it? Does he know how it works decently enough do to it himself, or does he have a mechanic that he goes to for tuneups?

It used to! He broke a lot of them/refuses to use them. He knew how it worked enough to keep it functional up until he meets the Strawhats and upon finding the frankly horrendous state of the prosthetic, Franky helps make Yonji a new one, specialized for tailoring! He rarely gets issues with the new are but if he does he can usually troubleshoot himself or attempt to contact Franky.

Who taught Yonji tailoring and fashion? Sanji had Zeff to help him become a master chef, so did someone take Yonji under their wing in a similar fashion? Or is he entirely self-taught?

For the most part, he's self-taught! Maybe I'll give him a mentor but I'm usually pretty adverse to making OCs for my AUs. Hmmmmm. He definitely had a training arc under some big name shops at one point though.

Does Yonji ever feel bad for leaving his brothers and sister behind? Unlike Sanji, who had normal human emotions from the get-go, Yonji's been on both sides of the fence, and he knows what it's like to be the sociopathic killing machine their father turned them into. Does he wish there was some way to trigger what happened to him in them as well? Do he and Sanji ever talk about their family? We know Sanji was the only one to regularly go and visit their mother, but do you think Yonji has any memories of her as well? Does he beg Sanji for stories about her?

*smacks yonji on the head* This good boy can fit so much guilt complex in him! He's guilty about everything all the time! Yes, he does want to help Ichiji and Niji, which comes into play post WCI. While Sanji and Yonji tend to avoid talking about Judge or their siblings, Sora has been brought up before. I know I haven't mentioned it on tumblr yet, but I sometimes draw Yonji with a necklace, which is supposed to be a trinket of Sora's that Reiju gave to him when Yonji ran away. Yonji's memories of Sora is hazy and he pretty torn up about it. Yeah, he asks Sanji for stories about her. <3

Where does Yonji live? Does Sanji swing by to visit him every so often, or do they keep in touch by air mail, does Yonji join the Strawhats or just travel with them?

He lives on this random island along the Grandline! Something kinda like Saboady or Hand Island. The Straw Hats (specifically) Sanji has visited few times post the initial meeting but Yonji does not actively travle with them. He might had, like, one adventure with them but otherwise he's not part of the crew or anything. He does get the SH's den den mushi number and keeps in touch that way. Occasionally he'll send packages- usually at the behest of Sanji at the behest of Nami, lol. Later, Yonji ends up getting roped into joining the Revs and he splits his time between being at his shop and at Baltigo.

Does Sanji ever have a "O shit, I think I might actually love him" moment when it comes to Yonji? It could be something domestic like laughing together in Sanji's kitchen they work together to prepare a meal, or something like seeing Yonji about to be injured or even killed in the middle of a fight and going "This is the only little brother I've got, not on my watch, dammit!"

YES! Specifically Yonji crying and gushing about how good Sanji's cooking is. Yonji is a little foodie and while he can't cook to save his life, he does happen to know a good bit about how food gets made and really learned to appreciate the effort that goes into cooking. Sanji is not normal over this fact. He has the "Don't touch my brother!" moment at WCI screaming at Judge. Which sends Yonji into a blubbering mess. (A lot of things happen WCI lmfao.)

Lastly, do you have any songs in mind for you AU, aside from the ones you've used for your animatics?

My ass doesn't actively listen to a whole bunch of music but I have made a playlist for this AU! The vibe mostly is like upbeat songs with sad lyrics lol.

Forgive my terrible terrible taste in music:

Thank you for the songs! Gonna snag 'em and add 'em to the playlist hehe.

Also, thank you for the ask!!!! <3 <3

[luffington]

hello author!! your doflamingo smut is how i found you. its very well written!!

could i request a smut with either crocodile or kami enel? my two favorites 💞

i dont have much to request on plot (go crazy!!), but could the reader be transmale and have a personality similar to the one in the doffy smut?

thank you~!

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 1.7k

➤ warnings: PWP, light bondage, oral (m receiving), degradation, mild pain kink, overstimulation

aww i'm so glad you like my work!! i hope this lives up to your expectations <3 the reader isn't explicitly transmasc but they're only briefly mentioned to be afab!

and i love enel too!! he's more laidback than doffy and croc so i feel like he'd be a little more normal about dealing with a confident partner? or maybe i just wanna bully croc idk

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

“You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” Crocodile growled, glaring down at your naked body sprawled out on his obscenely large and luxurious bed.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” With a sly grin, you added, “Maybe a second pair of handcuffs would get the message across.” You rattled the Sea Prism Stone cuffs digging into your wrists. 

He had carefully slipped them on using the tip of his hook, temporarily sacrificing his own strength to immobilize you and drain your powers. As expected, he didn’t ask for your consent, but you never protested. You felt honored to have pissed him off that much, and equally amused by the fact that even his cold, fleshless hook was affected by Sea Prism Stone – something you could tease him about later.

“A tempting suggestion, darling, but I need your ankles as far apart as possible,” he replied smoothly, taking a puff of his cigar and leaning down to blow the pungent smoke in your face. You tried your best not to cough but your lungs gave in and he chuckled in satisfaction. You could verbally provoke him all you wanted, but your body’s natural reactions were out of your control. 

The two of you had an… interesting relationship. You were a high-ranking Baroque Works agent who got a little too curious and dug deep enough into the organization to discover Mr. 0’s true identity. When you marched into Rain Dinners several months ago and demanded to see your boss in person, he almost shoved you into a Bananawani’s jaws.

But you were undeniably good at your job, and you tracked down his identity out of purely selfish interest. You had no desire to reveal his identity to the public or other agents and no ulterior motive. So now you spent half of your time carrying out his orders swiftly and cleanly, and the other half lounging in his lavish Rainbase mansion. Your punishment for your insolence was to become his ‘stress relief toy’. Ironic, considering he never seemed stressed, just mildly annoyed at best. You actually enjoyed your current situation – he was an incredible fuck, rough and unrelenting just the way you liked it. And with all of his luxuries at your disposal, you were certain you made at least double Mr. 1’s salary.

Crocodile’s broad, scarred torso was on full display for you but he still looked perfectly composed, not a strand of hair out of place or a single crease in his expensive tailored pants. In contrast, you were coated in a thin layer of sweat, covered in blooming bruises and hickeys and still panting softly from your third orgasm of the night. You would think he was completely unaffected if not for the massive tent in his slacks.

You nodded your chin at his erection. “You want any help with that or do you get off on blue-balling yourself?”

“Unlike you, I actually have stamina,” he drawled, but began undoing his belt buckle with slow and calculated movements. “However, I do need a break from your annoying commentary.” 

Why the hell would you stop annoying him? He loved punishing you just as much as you loved getting under his skin. Gags always seemed to be a part of your fuck sessions, usually in the form of his scarf tied around your head or ring-adorned fingers shoved down your throat. But his cock was definitely your favorite way of being silenced. You salivated at what was to come, watching with bright eyes as he let his pants fall to the floor and his boxers followed soon after. 

“What a needy little slut.” He chuckled, knowing your dazed expression poured gasoline on his flaming ego. “You can act as confident as you like but we both know you get weak in the knees as soon as I whip my cock out.”

“Well, now you’ve ruined it.” You pouted prettily. “I was gonna be good, but now I might bite.”

“You’d get a mouthful of sand, and I would make sure you choked on it.” Certainly not a pleasant thought, so you kept quiet. He tapped your cheek firmly. “Lift your head.” 

You did as he asked and he slid a second large pillow underneath you, making your neck rest at an awkward, half-upright angle. You knew that dull ache would linger for hours, much like the upwards strain in your shoulders from your arms pulled taut. 

Crocodile climbed on the bed and straddled your torso with his muscular thighs, weight pressing down on your chest just enough to make it uncomfortable. His dick was less than an inch away from your lips. Looking as doe-eyed and innocent as possible, you stared into his cold, dark eyes as you stuck your tongue out. Tenderly licking the tip with feather-light swipes of your tongue, relishing the salty taste of his precum and how easily you coaxed out more of it.

“Very cute,” he snickered. “But you know I hate teasing.”

Pouting, you responded, “You like teasing me.”

He grabbed the base of his thick cock and slapped it against your face repeatedly, smushing your cheeks with the head and smearing a few drops of precum into your skin. “You’re still putting up this arrogant front?” He chided you with a click of his tongue. “I know those cuffs are sapping away your energy. I, however, am raring to go.”

“So stop talking and stick your dick in my mouth.”

Not wasting a moment, he swiftly smacked you with the back of his hand, his heavy jeweled rings biting into your skin. You yelped at the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. No blood was drawn, but you knew from experience that your skin was imprinted. “Masochistic whore,” he said with a delighted and depraved grin. “One more word and I’ll use my hook instead.”

He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked at your scalp harshly, causing you to cry out in pain, and used that opportunity to finally shove his cock inside your wet cavern. It only got halfway inside before it met resistance as you choked and sputtered around the massive intrusion. Your mouth was gloriously warm and wet and always took his dick so well. The dark-haired man’s head fell back and he let out a deep, satisfied groan at the feeling of your throat constricting around him. 

Crocodile looked down at you demeaningly, grin growing when he noticed tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. As much as he would love to train your troublesome gag reflex away completely, you always looked so lovely when you struggled to swallow his whole length. “C’mon, darling, I know you can take it all.”

You took a deep breath through your nose and relaxed your throat as best as you could, letting his girthy cock penetrate your mouth even further. The dark-haired man sighed when he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. He was kind enough to let you adjust to the sensation for a minute before he pulled out halfway and roughly pushed back in, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

He braced his hook on the wall behind your head and began fucking your face in earnest. Delighting in the obscene, wet gagging sounds that tore from you. He wrapped his sturdy hand around your throat to feel the outline of his cock moving in and out. You tried your best to swirl your tongue around his length and contribute to his pleasure, but there was hardly any space unoccupied by his dick. Drool pooled in your mouth and dripped down your chin, creating the perfect little mess for him to gaze down upon. You were such a good cocksleeve for him when you put your mind to it – or rather, when you shut your mind off. 

His cigar never left his lips even as he told you how pretty you look with your cheeks bulging and your mouth stuffed full, and how much his dick missed the warmth of your holes when you were gone. You didn’t dare to read between the lines and mistakenly interpret that comment as him missing you. 

Crocodile suddenly shoved his hips forward, forcing his cock down your throat all the way to the base, your nose buried in his dark pubes. As you choked and desperately tried to inhale, head trapped between his pelvis and the stack of pillows behind you, he leaned back and ran a finger through your slit. Your body jerked at the contact with your abused pussy. He smiled, pleased at the wetness that coated his fingers and steadily dripped out of your hole. “You really love my cock, huh?” In response, you clinked your handcuffs together, trying to signal that you were feeling a little too lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that hole soon.”

He finally pulled his hips back and his saliva-coated dick popped out of your mouth. You coughed and gasped for air, letting more tears and drool drip down your face.

“Stay just like that.” Crocodile commanded and grabbed the base of his cock, using long, hard strokes to push him to the edge. Letting out unbelievably sexy groans and shaky sighs. Your eyes flitted between watching him jerk off and taking in his pleasured expression, the slight blush on his gray-toned face and sweat beading on his forehead. This was your favorite side of Crocodile – his calm exterior cracking to reveal his insatiable true nature. 

A few more strokes until he came with a depraved moan, releasing warm and thick strings of cum all over your face, coating your lips and cheeks and sticking to your eyelashes. You made eye contact with him as you stuck out your tongue and licked your lips clean of the salty substance, leaving the rest to dry into lewd white streaks. 

“This is how you should always look.” His chest still heaved from the exertion of his orgasm. “Covered in my cum, permanently marked as mine.”

“Yours?” You laughed, voice raspy from the previous assault on your throat. “I dunno, Croc, you seem a little too desperate to have me. Why else would you chain me up and pin me down like this?”

Crocodile took one more puff of his almost fully-burned out cigar and snubbed the rest out on the ashtray on his nightstand. He looked possessed by desire as a wicked smile split his scarred face. “Every snide comment you make from now on equals another orgasm tonight. You should consider your body’s limits, darling.”

You mimicked his grin. He was such a fun toy to play with.

[bonefall]

For the cat who takes out Juniperclaw, maybe if any of Leafstar's kits are still alive besides Harrybrook (or just him idk how you characterize any of the three), perhaps one of them would go with it? Leafstar might not have liked "an eye for an eye" and she'd probably teach them it's wrong to seek revenge, but I do think one of them can be talked into it, in the name of SkyClan and Leafstar. Make it more personal when Juniperclaw is told who they are in relation to the cat he killed, making it click in his head what is about to happen.

Oooo, great idea, I GOTTA do that... hmmm. Much as I wish I could cash in another chip for Firefern, since I adore her name, it's gotta be Harrybrook.

In-canon, his character is consistently harsh and distrusting and he's got it even worse in BB. It could be like his mother is the only thing actually holding him back. If anyone is going to end up being Waspstar's "Cleaner," it absolutely has to be him.

Harrybrook: We had a good thing, you stupid son of a foxheart! We had Leafstar, we had a camp, we had everything we needed and it all ran like woodwork! You could have shut your mouth, hunted, and caught as much prey as you ever needed. It was perfect! But no! You just had to blow it up! You, and your pride and your ego! You just had to be the man! If you’d known your place, we’d all be fine right now!

A little recap of BB!Harrybrook, since it's been a while since I've mentioned him or any of his fragments;

Harrybrook is the son of Leafstar, Echosong, and Billystorm.

SkyClan does not have the Cleric's Vow.

This is because SkyClan was exiled at the beginning of the Ripple Era; before Larkstripe's Strike which resulted in the unofficial vow being codified.

it is actually a positive in their culture if their Cleric previously raised kittens. Echosong probably did have other litters in her long life.

Echosong is also alive to the current arc; Frecklewing joined with The Kin. Fidgetflake is still around, but he's probably still the "junior" Cleric of sorts.

Important point being that Harrybrook has personal stake in SkyClan's unique customs. His only surviving parent is a Cleric.

I wouldn't be surprised if this is what makes him such an effective killer. He has a knowledge of poisons and anatomy.

All cats know where the carotid artery is, they find it all the time when they put the killing bite in the wrong spot. Habr knows where else a single blow can bleed you out.

As a little kitten, he was named after Harry, who helped to save his mother.

What no one knew at the time was that Harry was being courted by an ancient monster. Sol, the God of Autumn, Change, and Tricks, wanted to play a game.

The rules were simple; Sacrifice three kits.

Sol wanted to see how far Harry, once baring the name Cinders, would go in pursuit of the power it could offer him. Sol HATES a boring vessel.

Harry JUMPED at the chance, offering two of his own kits as the last one got away. He just needed one more.

SkyClan almost tempted him into tucking his ambition away. Here, he was safe and accepted for the first time... but his desire for power won out in the end.

Sol offers immortality, the ability to mould reality like clay, the whole world could be Harry's toy.

(WIP SECTION)

In some way, Sol was able to manipulate Billystorm. I'm still working out how severe this manipulation was.

He likely got to Leafstar too. Possibly intentionally driving a wedge between them-- convincing Billystorm that SkyClan was unsafe and he'd raised the kits more than either his mate or his mate's girlfriend. He had a right to keep them safe, even if that meant taking them from everything they'd ever known.

And to Leafstar, he told her Billystorm was plotting against her. That she needed to be as firm with him as she is with the cantankerous Sharpclaw. If she's not, he might take those kittens back to his humans, and who knows what they'd do?

In any case, a fight between them causes Billystorm to leave. I'm not sure if I'm keeping Leafstar exiling him.

(Note: I don't really like how either character acts in the canon story. Or the framing. Or... anything about it really. It's bad Todd.)

In the past, I'd made it so Billy ended up trying to take the kids to his human, and then the human was the one who decided to get rid of the kits. INSTEAD it works a LOT better if Billystorm went back to his humans, and Harry then used this as a lure to get the kittens out of camp.

"Let's go visit your Ba, kittens. I know where he is. Just follow me."

While living in the town, Billystorm meets up with the child of Harry who got away, and learns that they've all been set up.

Billystorm deserves to go run save his kids and punch a God in the face I think.

DAYLIGHT WARRIOR MORE LIKE LIGHTS OUT WARRIOR! KAPOW!!

(Much as I will miss the gutpunch brutality of Billystorm realizing that his human can't be trusted. I'll just use the idea someplace else.)

(WIP SECTION END)

Stormkit was unable to be saved. There was only Firefern and Harrybrook.

Harry has been terrified of water since then. It represents everything awful that's ever happened to him.

He doesn't even like when it rains. Storms always seem to bring terrible things.

Firefern ended up dying on the journey to the Lake. I'm leaning towards changing it to infection, during the time that Echosong is missing (taking Frecklewing's arc).

Her other mother wasn't there to help her, and she died of something preventable. Something Harry knows she could have healed.

Harrybrook hates his name. I think he was too quiet about it, though, to the point where his family wasn't aware of it.

They probably figured it was overwriting Harry's memory. It's Harrybrook's name now, instead. Harry just feels like it's a reminder of being tricked.

I think at one point he should get an honor title, but I'm still working it out. He might just be keeping Harrybrook as a grim reminder.

If it's him who kills Juniperclaw, I know for a fact he'd take Waspstar's orders very seriously; "Please be discreet and professional." It's only mostly personal, you see. More importantly, this is for SkyClan.

Leafstar wouldn't have approved. But she's not here now.

He'd quietly intercept Juniperclaw as he approaches the camp, standing in his way, looking him up and down without a twinge of emotion on his face. Juniperclaw's hackles are raised immediately. He lived with SkyClan before Heartstar reformed ShadowClan-- everyone knows who Harveybrook is.

"I've- I've come to pay my respects," He says proudly, standing tall and noble. Even after that he did, he has the boldness to hold himself as a brave warrior. What he knows he did, and to who he's talking to. Harrybrook shouldn't fault him for not knowing how arrogant he comes across-- but does anyway.

"Yes, we've been expecting you," He flicks his tail and dips his head respectfully, "Right this way."

The trail doesn't lead to camp.

When Juniperclaw begins to realize that they're taking a strange path, he just waves it away as an odd feeling. It's been a while since he's been here, after all. But the tickle doesn't go away. It gets stronger and stronger, until he recognizes the northern border of what used to be ShadowClan's full range.

And that's when he halts, "Where exactly are you taking me?"

"Not any further if you don't want to," Though Harrybrook's eyes are wide like he's about to pounce on prey and his massive body is buckled low, prowling, sizing up the distance between them, his tone is soft. Like he's gently explaining something to a fellow warrior. "This would be far enough."

The ex-deputy swallows on a dry throat, frozen in place. Harrybrook relaxes his stance. Juniperclaw seems to be very good at taking orders, just like he is. He knows exactly what to do to keep this discreet and professional.

"If you'd like, we can finish the long walk. It's a place my mother used to like. It has flowers, butterflies, it's a lovely haven," He relaxes his stance, meeting Juniperclaw's terrified eyes with a calm, dutiful look.

The panic distills into a resolve. Like something clicked in his mind, and he was coming to one of those unspoken conclusions that these Forest Four cats all seem to have figured out between them. "All right. I... I think I know the haven you're talking about. We can have our fight there. There's no need to make a scene."

Harrybrook's ear flicks, but Juniperclaw doesn't see it as he brushes past him. It seems he misunderstood what this is. He thinks this is an invocation of the Right to Challenge. That this is going to be a fair fight between warriors.

It's the last mistake he ever made. But he doesn't feel a thing. Back turned to his killer, he hears the snap before he learns in StarClan that it was the sound of his own neck.

[annieqattheperipheral]

At 1hr 21min:

Started typing... Kept typing lol here you go, natemac interview recap:

Nate still has to go train at sid's gym

So nate makes batherson come to his gym

Vail camp: used to have them, paused for covid, better and chill, no one knows them (tried them before in toronto and montreal), not busy. Training at 9000ft. Afterwards do treatment or golf.

Attendees: mcdavid, marner, sid, skinner, hall, tysbarrie, matty tkachuk, bennett, hanifin

McDavid: i don't see him much, I've gotten to know him thru these. I'm like a kid watching him, it's just fun

Matthew Tkachuk: "and he's doing his thing 😂"

Cale's wedding: "i shouldn't say a showman but when he gets into his moods he's a fun guy. likes to dance, have a good time, when his wife's around, definitely loosens up more and it's just the boys around"

Went to Wimbledon this summer. Did not wear a top hat

Lighter recovery training both this and last summer: just trying to take miles off his body is key. Light gym days "is that it, Andy?" But feels good now

Cale: "first nhl game, aggressive and calling for pucks, to do that at 19yo is impressive. The confidence that he has. Quieter off the ice. Super sure of himself on the ice. He's special. He'll be the best defenseman ever"

A bit about why he works with his sports psychologist and will always continue working with her "we're so dialed in on our body, why is no one taking care of their mind" "the minute you think you're good, you're not"

Is offended that "ball hockey players claim nhl players can't play ball hockey. is that true?" ("I've rollerbladed my entire life!!") (I need to see fanart of that btw pls ☺️)

Idiot boys tell him it's on feet not on rollerblades (chiclets cup talk "what is the chiclets cup?")

Nate asks who the best ball hockey player in the world is. Answer: "nose face killah" "who?" "he looks 20x uglier and a big nose" and Nate responds "so he's got like my nose" they all compliment his nose😌

Nate redirects the convo to roller hockey

On sid's $8.7: in July he told him "you're not gonna sign for 8.7 are ya c'mon. and he was like ahh idk I'll see" he's taking less to be team friendly

Sid still grinding in the summers. While Nate had his recovery summer he looks like a joke in comparison to sid

The pressure of being captain for team canada for upcoming 4nations & Olympics must be part of what's driving him

"he doesn't look 37 in any way" Yandle: he doesn't have any kids. Nate: must be it! Must be the key

Landy: feels like 10yrs when he last played and lifted the cup. Misses him

Mikko: "he's shockingly big. Says he's 6'3", seems like he must be 6'5". His head is this fuckin big"

"old school. Stretches for like an hour a day. The most flexible guy"

Avs "get so many national games. Know we're not the biggest hockey market but mikko should get more recognition. Super underrated"

Cal ritchie: he did the whiffing thing at vail camp. Everyone thought he whiffed and then he did it again. Nate tried it to do it today, can't do it. Awed by what the kids can do

Nate can't do the Michigan either

His trainer has trained a lot of downhill skiers, you have to be fearless, so training in the pool relaxes your mind. Keeps mum about what he does in the pool. No he does not wear a speedo😞

Lehky's dad vs. mikko: "mikko had a 4 or 5pt game, was fired up, said that to media, then apologized to lehky like 3min later. They're really good friends"

Went to Europe this summer: no one really knows me in america, especially there. Like being off grid, wake up to no texts bc of time change, super relaxing

Was tempted to go to worlds last season (omg what!!!!) avs were out 2nd round. Sid was bugging him and schenner about it (biz: "if you go I'll go kind of thing?" 'Yea")

They were all going to go but nate pooped out "played 105 games, lost to Dallas, was devastated"

Cogs: met him thru Andy at vail. Lit up when it was brought up about trading for him in '22. He is management now. Around the rink, always in the gym, hands in his pockets, walking around, talking to guys

"isn't he good at impressions?" "Yea he's a great storyteller he's so good"

"the league is evolving really quickly right now so it's good to have a bridge" like cogs who recently played bw team and mgmt

Communication is better in the league. Players aren't terrified to talk to GM like he was as a rookie when seeing sakic. Thinks it's important for players to know where they stand. Old school players think fear can be good, yea sure, but you can't scare ppl into playing well for over 8mos, 82 games. Prefers this new way

Mitts: super comfortable, quieter, came to a team where he knows nobody, he looks great, expecting an awesome year from him

Faceoffs: lmaaooo still saying he needs to practice that. Hurts his wrist when he practices them. Needs to be around 52. Was at 46 last season

No league bonus$ for winning the Hart

MacKinnon Crunch cereal released in 2021. It was frosted flakes + he picked the flavour, he liked it! (I NEED TO TRY THIS)

Tim hortons: sidnate want to do an ad with marchy where he messes up ppls orders and they sit him down to teach him what to do (omg they're coming up with sketches lolll) "Marchy needs to be nicer on the ice to be more marketable" 💀

Bedard: hard worker, on the ice 1.5hr after everyone, ice is so snowy can't even move on it

Preseason games, re: all these preseason injuries: doesn't agree with veteran rule (how many mandatory games they have to play) but important for prospects and rookies, you need to be able to evaluate them, they can look good in practice but different story in games.

For vets, you want to play hard, show a good example "played one last night, lost 6-1" and" you see the doughty laine injuries and it's like i could throw my season away for a glorified practice essentially is all it is"

"You're in your game jersey but it doesn't mean anything"

"it's a fine line, i like playing them, 1 or 2, i don't need 6"

Teams are making $1-3mil per preseason game (probably only leafs habs etc)

Listens to a lot of podcasts, likes learning (about self-help, longevity, recovery, nutrition, etc), always has since he was a kid. Liked going to Popeyes (nutrition supplements chain store, like GNC) with his dad looking at protein powders etc lmao

"idk I'm just into it. Definitely love learning, there's a lot i don't know. I feel like a dummy listening to these guys"

Asked about "policing food". He laughs. Omg the laugh is sooo lmaao. On whit saying rumours of him strangling lehky last season for eating a snickers "nooo. Stop it. Stop it. That's not true. (*laughing! laughing!🙃 *oh we are having fun!*)"

"Trying to mellow out a little bit. Definitely see some shit i get mad, try to keep it to myself. ... Eat what you want but when you're at the rink ... I just think the least you can do as a pro athletes is be in shape."

On how nhl of the past, players would be drinking pepsi in-between periods: "a little sugar during a game isn't too bad, it's all good" (i swear his voice is different at this part bc he is internally combusting😂)

4nations/team Canada: Wants McDavid & Sid 1c/2c. Doesn't think they've played wing, doesn't want them to

Himself 3c or wing. Has played wing at other national events. Doesn't love left wing. Prefers right

"should i tell sid to play wing?" Paraphrased: you're Ted Lindsay & MVP, still at his gym, you gotta get something out of this

"he could be 50yo and I'd still slide over" 😏

"nova scotia line (sid, nate, marchy) would be pretty cool at Olympics or this feb (4nations)"

Marner: "he looks awesome... You hear all this negative stuff and then you get on the ice with him you're like how could anyone be negative about this. Admire how good he is, bc ppl chirp him a lot. Him and McDavid were flying around together in Vail"

[powerfultenderness]

Hello there author! I know you're taking your time writing the chapter 2 but may we have Neighbor!König visiting y/n to her office, where könig drop off her things or she kinda forgot her lunch something. Thank you for the hard work you put into your fic! WE LOVE IT!

Ahh, i'm sorry! I guess I needed a little time off from writing, but I'm back! And thank you very much!

Lol idk what Reader does for a living, but it sounds nice! I hope you like it!

(Rated T+)

It wasn’t until an hour after your shift started that you realized you’d forgotten your lunch in König’s truck, and it was only because he texted you. You sighed and shot off a quick response, telling him not to worry about it. You can just walk across the street to one of the fast food joints and grab lunch there. You thought nothing more of it and got back to work. 

And you would have continued to think nothing more of it until you saw more than one security guard making their way to the front. Odd. You glanced at the clock, it was still a few minutes before your lunch break, and thus a few minutes before you could be nosy and check out what was going on. Well, at least that's what you thought just before your desk phone rang. 

“There’s a man here for you,”  the receptionist sounded a bit anxious. “I’ve got security keeping him in the lobby, but he’s insisting that he see you.” 

Oh! No! 

“Let me guess, big guy, like, absurdly big. With a scary looking mask?”

“Yea. Should I call the police?”

“Oh please don’t! He’s…harmless.” 

“Are you su-”

“I’ll be down in a sec!” 

Ok, you weren’t entirely sure he was harmless. He had told you stories of his time fighting in war zone conflicts, and though he never said it outright, you’re pretty sure he has a kill count that’s higher than one. But in this particular scenario, just visiting your office, as long as no one tried to fight him, you’re almost certain he wouldn’t do anything. (The thought never crossed your mind that the only other situation in which he’d react violently is if you were threatened in any manner). 

By the time you reached the lobby, there were three security guards standing a few feet from König. Two of them were very clearly nervous. They’re not at all in any kind of shape, one of them is on the elderly side and the other on the pudgy side. The one young man that is in any kind of fighting shape honestly looks so small compared to König. 

“Oh, you can let him through, he’s with me!” You spoke up in a loud, clear, and forcibly cheerful voice. 

You were glad for the time it took to get to the lobby, it’d given you just enough time to think of what to say to security. You weren’t entirely sure on where you stood in relation to König. What were you supposed to refer to him as? At this point he was more than just your neighbor. You could say he was your friend, but somehow that didn’t feel like enough either. Yet to call him your boyfriend or partner felt like a stretch. (He was just a really nice neighbor, who was also a good friend, who you maybe sometimes had a little bit of a crush on). So, for now, he was just “with you”. 

König was used to having his orders followed. It had been years since he had been denied access to anything and these small men that pretended like they could stop him, all while shaking in their boots, were beginning to…annoy him. Just when he was about to push past them, he heard your voice declare that he was with you. 

It was you who slipped past security as you lightly ran up to him. “König!” You smiled and, much to his surprise, pulled him into a quick hug. 

Just like that he forgot about the way dealing with these civilians that worked with you had made his anxiety flare, how he wanted something to fight, to put his physical energy into. It all melted away as his world shrunk to just you. Your body flush against his for a single moment, the soft touch of your hands on his back. He was so tempted to lift his hood and bury his face into the crook of your neck, to inhale the intoxicating aroma that haunted his dreams. He almost whined when you pulled out of the hug, one of your hands moving to the bag that he was carrying. 

"I thought I told you not to worry about it?" 

Before he could stutter out some excuse, you turned around, to the little audience in the lobby, and he had the urge to pull you behind him, to shield you from their eyes. They didn't deserve to look upon you, and certainly didn't deserve your attention. 

Perhaps you thought this too (not quite) since you turned back to him and motioned back to the entrance. "Let's go sit outside, it's nice out." 

He would follow you anywhere, especially when you looped your arms around one of his like that. You led him to a side patio, where a couple of picnic tables and benches were set up under comfortable shade. There were already other people seated in the area, but one look at him and they returned to their business, better to ignore the frightful stranger than to antagonize him. 

You chose a picnic table furthest away from others and took your bag that he had still been carrying and set it down. "Do you have to leave right away?" 

“No.” He shook his head as you sat down on the bench facing outwards.

“Good, then, want to join me for lunch?” 

He sat down next to you, glad that he didn’t have to try to squeeze his legs under the table and probably bang up his knees in the process. He realized, a soft smile pulling at his lips, as you turned to start digging through your bag that that was probably the reason you sat this way, for his comfort. 

He shook his head when you offered a share of your food. "I don't want you to get hungry later." 

"Please, you've seen me buy car snacks, you really think I don't also have desk snacks? I would be just fine even if you hadn't brought my lunch, which, thank you, by the way. This is really nice of you." When was the last time someone had been so thoughtful? 

"You're like a squirrel." He laughed as he accepted the offered food.

"Psh." You playfully rolled your eyes and softly bumped your shoulder into his arm. "If I'm a squirrel, what does that make you?" 

He was silent for a moment, head slightly tilted to the side, before he looked at you, eyes crinkled under his hood in a way that you’d come to recognize as a smile. "A dog." 

"A dog?...But dogs are always chasing squirrels!” You then gasped dramatically, "don't tell me you want to eat me!" 

König fought down the sudden surge of heat brought on by the memory of a dream. It made his responding laugh a bit too loud, a bit too awkward and forced him to attempt to cover it up. By growling and leaning down quickly to nip at your shoulder. 

"Ah!!" You half shrieked and half laughed as you leaned away from him just enough to get out of his silly attempt at biting you through the hood that covered his face. "Stop!" You finally managed through giggles. 

He pulled away with another playful growl and snapped his teeth at you twice. "One day I will catch you, Squirrel." 

"Yea? Then what?" You laughed again. 

He was quiet for just a second too long, eyes boring into you a bit too intensely. He even dropped the playful tone in his voice, now deeper and rougher than you were used to hearing. "I'll eat you." 

It’s a good thing that you weren’t eating or drinking anything at that exact moment or you would have choked at the way it sounded! He certainly couldn’t have meant it like that! You chuckled and looked away from him, hoping he could not tell that your thoughts were less than appropriate. 

Finished with the main part of your lunch, you opened the packed snack cake and portioned it in half, once again intending to share with König, but he shook his head. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like this particular snack, not that he’d ever go out of his way to buy the like either, it’s just that he knew it was your favorite. Though, you must have sensed that, as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him.

You portioned an even smaller piece, “not even a little taste?” And held the piece of confection up at level where you assumed his mouth was.

König froze, if you were offering to feed him…

You reached for the edge of his hood and pulled it forward, giving you room to slip your other hand under it without revealing his face. The backs of your fingers lightly ghosted across his chin until you held the treat near enough to his mouth. Though he remained stock still, eyes never leaving yours, his lips wrapped around the offered treat and his tongue barely brushing against your fingers. 

It was hardly a bite, and his lips and tongue had hardly touched your fingers for half a second. You smiled, hot in the face, and pulled your hand back, “good?” 

He hummed and nodded. “Very good. Sweet.” 

As if your face wasn’t burning enough! 

You looked down at your portion of the sweet treat to realize there was a dab of cream on your finger still. You glanced back at him, not completely titling your head back up, casting your eyes in a coquettish shadow, and licked your finger. “Good.” 

König quietly grunted, one of his hands landing on your knee as he leaned in a little closer to you. He didn’t know why. He just needed to be closer to you, needed to feel you. 

Your breath hitched but you pretended not to be affected by his touch as you quickly finished off your lunch while his fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. You then grabbed his hand, gently squeezing before you pushed it off your knee. “Unfortunately, I am not a general that can dictate my own break times.” 

“What?” 

You cleaned up what trash was left from your lunch and tossed it in a nearby bin. “My lunch is just about up.” Sure enough, an alarm on your phone sounded just as you returned to the table.

König frowned, it felt like he just arrived! How could your lunch be up already? “Oh, let me.” He stood up and grabbed the bag you had stored your lunch in. An excuse to visit you later.

“Thanks.” You started to walk back to the office, him right beside you again. “And thanks again for stopping by. Can you still pick me up after work?” “Yes. Five?” “Yep!” 

König is practically walking on air after lunch, though eager for the end of the day. He couldn’t wait to see you again. 

[Neighbor König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed.

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout

[shadow4-1]

You're Not My Boyfriend! - Crazy!Soap x Reader Imagine (SFW)

[I just found out that my best friend of 10 years thinks we're dating (even tho he knows I'm married and have only ever referred to him as a friend - albeit my best friend). Idk what mental hoops he had to jump through to get to this point. Instead of dwelling on this interpersonal fact, I'm going to distract myself with a imagine on why Soap would most certainly act with the same kind of crazy.]

The two of you crossed paths for the first time because you're someone who works a support role for the 141 (ie. the medical/technical fields). You're not in the 141, in fact, you rarely see them because you're too busy with your own duties behind the scenes. You know they're important/a big deal because your superiors tell you so, but it's not like you really care. You don't deal with them enough to.

When you finally crossed paths with Soap, you find all of the team a bit brutish. You don't really like talking to them, and if you have to, you keep it curt. Soap is the one who actually tries to chat you up. You still keep up the same behavior because no thanks. He smiles too wide, and he doesn't blink enough. You're 95% sure all of these men are psychopaths.

A few weeks go by, and you completely forget about him. It isn't until flowers and chocolates and teddy bears with your name on it start showing up. The same note is always inside: Can't wait to see you again. Your stomach flips because you haven't been on a date in a couple years. All of your coworkers think you finally have a new significant other. They coo over the gifts and talk behind your back about how someone like you doesn't deserve the effort. You don't have it in yourself to speak up nor would it really matter.

You throw yourself into your work to distract yourself from the gossip. You tear through assignments like it's no one's business. Eventually, your productivity is noticed by Laswell. Unbeknownst to you, she does a background check on you. She finds out you've already been noticed by the 141 and have been receiving gifts from a particular member. She's half tempted to tell you but decides against it. She knows this won't end well either way. Laswell decides to leave you be, but manages to pull some strings to get you a well-deserved promotion.

The gifts stop for a few months but start up again sporadically. Rumors start about how the timing of the gifts matches up with the 141 deployments. Someone on the team has taken a liking to you. You roll your eyes at them, and you don't want to believe them. Those meatheads from the 141? One of them likes you when they've got dozens of other pretty young things working in their peripherals? Ha, likely story. The person actually sending you the gifts is probably the old janitor. After all, chivalry is so dead nowadays.

The gifts keep coming even as you enjoy your new promotion. The notes start to change, but they continue to remain anonymous. You start to accept that your favorite flowers are being sent from a 141 member. You have to see them more often, thanks to your new post. It doesn't take you long to figure out which man has been trying to capture your attention. God, why does it always have to be the creepy ones?

He's too touchy and too insensitive, and he's loud and makes you feel small. You want him to leave every time you have to be in the room with the team. Why couldn't it have been the Captain or the maniac in black? Why does it have to be the Scottish one who won't shut up?

You learn (against your will) that his name is John "Johnny/Soap" MacTavish, he's single and ready to mingle, he loves his mum and his sisters and he thinks you're "bangin" (whatever that means). It's so obvious he's got a crush on you, but you desperately try to play it off. He's a puppy, and all you have to do is wait for him to grow up and realize it's never going to happen.

One night, you decide to head out with your coworkers for drinks. And lo and behold, guess who dragged his whole team out to the same bar? You're understandably pissed off, but you can't bear to tell Soap off in front of everyone. It's probably the biggest mistake of your life.

He physically sweeps you off your feet and refers to you as his "bestest girl". Despite how annoying he is, his good mood seems to run off on everyone...including you. He buys you drinks, and you keep him at a respectable arms length. Despite how much you really don't like him that way, you have to start admitting he's got a weird charm to him.

You make him repeat it back to you. He seems all too happy to agree with you.

Later on in the night, you take him off to the side. You explain to him clearly that the two of you are friends. Only friends. You'll never be more than that. But, he's a good guy, and if he needs someone to talk to, you're down to be friends.

"Yes, Bonnie. We're only friends."

With a sigh, you slap his shoulder and tell him to buy you another drink.

Weeks drag on. The romantic gifts stop, but the gifts keep coming. At first, it's nothing you'd really bat an eye over from a good friend. It's Scottish hot chocolate tablets that he swears you have to try. It's CDs of his favorite bands because your taste in music should be broadened! It's books and bags and stupid little trinkets to personalize your desk.

You can't believe you find yourself humoring him, but you do. After all, it seemed like his crush on you disappeared. You get him weird snacks and make him mixtapes for his longer missions. Always under the guise as a treat from the rest of the staff, you send care packages if you can. Johnny calls you out on it but you feign ignorance. He's your friend. You'd actually hate to know he's slogging around in mud, hungry and alone.

That sounds like pure hell.

"Y' git used to it, Bonnie."

Eventually, he suggests spending time outside of work. He mentions he'd gotten a new gaming console you'd been dying to have yourself. That night, the two of you sit comfortably side by side, trying to kick each other's asses at a video game. When he wims, he leans back and laces his arms beneath his head, grinning and laughing. He looks so proud of himself. A part of you whispers that it's because he'd weaseled his way into your good graces, but you were in too good of a mood to listen to that part of your brain.

Just as you were about to get ready to leave, Johnny stops you. It was late. You should take his bed and get some rest. He'd take you to work in the morning. Despite yourself, you agree. It was late, and you were tired, and the drive back home would be too long. You take off your pants, crawl into his huge bed and pass out.

The next morning was normal. You had an extra uniform in your locker, so you got changed at work. You had gotten a great night's sleep, so you didn't think about your appearance. But apparently, everyone else did.

The gossip began at full force. Someone saw you changing despite the fact you always came into work in uniform. Johnny looked terrible. It was obvious he hadn't gotten great sleep last night. You looked well rested. In fact, you were even glowing! And Johnny had dropped you off, too?

Oh no.

You wanted to address the new rumors, but that's all they were. And even if you did, you were sure it would just backfire. You tried to keep your head down, but one of your best friends (a fellow coworker) came by your desk. Apparently, Johnny was bragging that his bestest friend spent the night over.

You were so mad you tracked him down and pulled him to the side. You whispered angrily at him, chastising him for making it seem like the two of you were an item. You were only friends!

"Yeah, you're m' bestest girl." He shrugged, grinning happily. "N' m' you're bestest boy. We love each other."

The deranged pieces were starting to come together. The way he brushed off the advances of the other girls. The way all of your prospective partners disappeared after getting into it with him. The knowing, almost pitying glances of the 141.

"W-we're friends!" You squeaked. "You're not my boyfriend!"

"Boy friend. Boyfriend. What's th' difference?" Johnny laughed hard, doubling over. "We're together."

After that, you blocked his number and tried to ignore him. Of course, it didn't work. Johnny was relentless. He got new phone numbers to text you. He started sending gifts (this time a mix between the romantic and the mundane). He sent letters of all kinds during deployment. He even sent pictures you were sure would get him in trouble.

You tried so hard to ignore it all until one night, he messaged you on social media.

He was out on a mission again, but he just had to say how he felt:

I can't wait to get home and see you again. I miss you so much. You're one of the only people I can talk to and laugh with. I'm sorry if I made you upset. We should talk about it over dinner. My treat, Bonnie.

You knew better. God, you knew better. But that part of your heart that wanted to trust and love won over. You agreed to talk when he returned, but you made it very clear that it would be a meeting between coworkers, not even friends.

The day eventually came, and the two of you sat across from each other at a too fancy restaurant. There was a dress code, so you had on a nice dress. You were mad from the jump, you couldn't believe you'd let him talk you into this.

He was dressed nicely in a suit, with a bushel of flowers and a medium-sized gift box. He apologized for making you feel uncomfortable. He'd never meant to make you feel that way. He really did see you as his best friend. In his eyes, you were the only person who truly understood him. He let his physical attraction blind him, and for that, he was sorry.

"I'll admit, I did a few bad things against y'." He offered you the box. "I wanna give it all back, wipe the slate clean, love."

Love?

You shakily opened the box and felt bile rise up in the back of your throat. It was pairs of your old panties, missing chapsticks, nail polish, scrunchies, and even a dirty uniform shirt you thought you had lost. The contents of the box had a slightly musky scent that no longer resembled yours. He'd stolen these things and had kept them for a long, long time. Perhaps even before the two of you had become "friends".

You covered your hand with a mouth as you felt like you were getting sick. What the fuck?

"We'll, now tha' everything's been laid bare..."

You watched in shock as a few classical musicians with their instruments came around the table. They encircled you and began playing a romantic piece with sweet vibratos. The guests at other tables started to gasp and point at you. You tried to stand, but John put a hand on your shoulder to keep you sitting. With a voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear he began to talk.

"These last couple years you've been my bestest friend, m' bestest girl." He sighed dreamily before getting down onto one knee.

You were mortified. You tried to pull your feet away from him, but he placed a firm hand on your knee. He pulled out a shiny box from his suit pocket. The music hit a peak that made you start to cry from overstimulation. No, no, this couldn't be happening. He's crazy!

"Please, be m' bestest girl forever." He practically pleaded, opening the box to show off a much too large diamond ring. Women at the tables behind you gasped. The music began to stop, but the whine of the violins hurt your head. Tears began to spill down your face.

"Marry me, love."

The entire restaurant went silent.

You could feel dozens upon dozens of eyes on you.

The pressure was too much for you to outright say no.

But you couldn't say yes, either.

You began to sob loudly. You covered your face and tried to hide away from the gaze of the strangers. John shushed you and cooed and pulled you into his arms. You wanted to fight him but his large body shielded you from the petriying public gaze. He rubbed at your back and whispered encouraging words to you. Eventually, he got you to stop blubbering and pulled away from you just enough to look down into your face.

"I love you. N' 've always loved you." He smiled.

You squeaked at the feeling of ice-cold metal being slipped down your middle finger.

You looked down at the ring in shock.

The entire restaurant erupted into claps and whistles and congratulatory whoops.

"N' now we'll be bestest friends forever, love."

[twost3ps]

I wanna make some hazbin x scott pilgrim au inspired art where Adam is Ramona and Lucifur is Scott

The scenario is this:

After adam dies and comes back as a sinner, after all that angst, all that trial and error, Lucifur makes moves on Adam and finally, FINALLY, gets him to say yes to a relationship.

Man thought it was over.

Lucifur: Adam, I'm so glad you're finally mine ☺️

Adam: Um.. about that...

Lucifur: what?

Adam: you need to fight my seven exes....

Lucifur: what????

And then Lucifur has to fight Adam's exes as said before and it goes from easy to hard and I giggle in my seat.

My roster is this- easiest to hardest, why im choosing them:

7- Mammon (greedyguitar/firstchristmas)- I think this ship is hilarious and I feel like it :3 it would make Luci be like: WHAT??? HOW??? They met on an extermination day, found eachother funny and had a good fling for a while. They're still good friends actually and when Adam go revived as sinner, he would contact Mammon from time to time without Lucifur knowing

6- ??? -dunno so help me decide :3

5- Eve (edit:edenapple)- this is obvious an a duh the original pookies bro bffr 🙄

4- Azrael (deadlyguitar or deathmetal idk) saw this one. Snatched it. It's mine now I'm gonna love them forever as well. They met when Adam was retrieved from the earth on his death bed. Adam found him kinda hot.

3- Raphael (idk haven't made one yet/maybe greenthumb? Bcz Adam was a farmer and Raphael's color is green)- Idk I just feel like it. Raphael is the angel of healing if I'm not wrong. Healing both physically and spiritually, so Adam went to him for therapy and they kissed cuz I said so.

2- Gabriel (i can't choose between guitaramp or guitarspeaker) - Along with Micheal, he was another oc ship I had in my draft sketches. Couldn't tell you why. Fun dynamic tho for me bcz my Gabriel is a loud mouth gossip. They met in Adam's last years of life and in heaven, Gabriel being Micheal's second in command, met Adam often during his training. They're silly

1- Micheal- it's me... come on... this is my whole account... but i had this boy in my sketches before I revived this account. But yeah, he was Adams friend in Eden, guide and mentor in heaven, and is mad protective of Adam even after the falling out. Also Luci and him need to brawl is for their own good. Love the brother angst ❤️

Lucifur is shocked at how many guys Adam has actually dated/been with, and Adam is just openly bisexual. He just doesn't tell anyone, tho or really show it lol

I need to show you guys my interpretations of the archangels like,,,, soon omg... but for now you're gonna have to guess until I make that art hhhh

Idk who to put in for 6 tho...

And before I anyone says Lute or Lilith, I wanna keep the ratio of the 6 guys 1 girl like how it is and I just don't think either fit, atleast for me.

Lilith... nah... I feel like she's a mix of Kim, Envy and Knives in the sense (scotts exes) of this au and for Lute- I just don't ship Guitarspear. Don't get me wrong, it's a great ship but I saw they're dynamic as more of silly dad and his feral child. I like that dynamic way more for them so yea.

But if you have any ideas for who 6 should be either send it to me in asks, comments, dms or any other way cuz I genuinely have no idea who the last person would be :')

I feel like they should be somone with a long history with Adam so no one from the hotel :/ which is why this is so hard to choose 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I was tempted to do st peter (holynotes) for a giant laugh but I don't think so??? Maybe??? BRUH IDK USBEBEHSBSJEKWWK

Please send help I beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏

[layla4567]

Awful things to you...

Pairing: TVA!Loki x Variant!fem!reader

Summary: You are a variant and the TVA pursues you tirelessly until they find you. Loki will be in charge of interrogating you and you are not sure if that is a reward or a punishment.

Warnings: Based on episode 2 of the second season, smut, slightly dom loki, good cop and bad cop dynamic (loki is bad cop obviously), reader being a lil brat, slightly choking(?, hair pulling, fingering with clothes, sex with clothes/hook up idk.

WC: 3.4k

You were sitting in the middle of the room in an uncomfortable, small seat that didn't even have a backrest. You looked at the ceiling bored while the warm, yellowish lights hit you squarely in the face. It seemed like you were in some kind of madhouse with a completely empty, windowless orange room with a solid oval iron door in front of you. Your clothing wasn't comfortable either, the baggy jumpsuit of a horrible beige color made you look like a prisoner (although technically you were) and that uncomfortable and annoying necklace they had put on you was starting to make you itch. You placed a finger between the skin of your neck and the material of the collar, trying in vain to push it away a little but it kept squeezing. You were just grumbling when two people entered the room. One was a man with gray hair and a mustache with an affable and good-natured appearance, his partner who was taller, had somewhat longer and black hair combed back. They both wore brown uniforms with matching ties.

"Well, well, well. Finally someone comes to visit me, I was getting bored"-you said cheekily

The gray-haired man came a little closer with an easy and graceful step towards you without stopping smiling.

"Well, sorry, we were a little busy."-He answered, laughing at his own joke.

You simply stared at him and grunted something, narrowing your eyes and nodding indifferently, the other tall man came closer to be next to his friends. An awkward silence settled between the three of you so the first man decided to break that silence.

"Oh but where are my manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves, I'm Agent Mobius and he's my partner Loki."-He said pointing to himself and then to his friend.

"And I suppose you already know my name"- you said with irritating irony.

"Yes, and that's why we're here."-said the one called Loki

"Oh so you know how to talk after all"-you pretended to be surprised

Loki sighed and was tempted to roll his eyes but he simply restrained himself, as Mobius knew that his companion was someone somewhat irascible, he continued speaking for him.

"Well there's no reason to be so rude, look we brought you here because you committed something on your sacred line that created a ramification"

You interrupted him, closing your eyes and waving a hand in front of him, fed up with his rant.

"I'm sorry but I'm not understanding you shit"

"In short, you did something you shouldn't have and we brought you here to keep you from causing more problems."

You turned laughing sarcastically to see Loki as you frowned.

"So now I'm locked up and watched by two kinds of babysitters?"

"I wouldn't say it like that-"

"This is stupid"- you exalted -"I want to leave, let me get out of here"-you demanded

You stood determined to push them out of your way and get out the door when Loki, who was considerably taller than you, stood in front of you, blocking the door and placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You sighed in annoyance, you weren't afraid of him or Mobius but you weren't stupid, they were two against one and you weren't sure if you would be able to take down Loki.

"Ugh fine, what do you want from me then?"

"We want to know what you did or rather why you did it"-Mobius said placing his hands behind his back.

"I thought you knew that, since you know me so well."-You rolled your eyes, putting your hands on your hips.

"We'd rather it come out of your mouth, ok?"

Loki narrowed his eyes and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye and up and down, contemplating whether to say what you know or not. After a few seconds of silence you clicked your tongue.

"Alright, how about I tell you a story, shall I? Once upon a time there was a pretty, intelligent girl who got tired of living in misery and, let's say, one day she innocently stole a diamond ring so she could sell it. Until two couple of weirdos came and captured her. The end"

"Did you like the story?"-You smiled sarcastically as you blinked your eyelashes innocently, making a kind of pout.

"I think you're a great storyteller."

Mobius always tried to make a joke with that smile on the verge of being a laugh, but you looked at him with the seriousness of a wax statue, somewhat uncomfortable, he stopped smiling and fell silent.

Loki took the lead

"The point is that now we need to know what you did with that ring, obviously you hid it because you didn't have it with you"

"Good deduction Sherlock, you surprise me."

Your poisonous sarcasm never left your throat and was beginning to make Loki impatient, who closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You were just having fun watching him lose his temper. Mobius, as a good-hearted man, tried to see things from all possible perspectives.

"Look y/n, I understand, okay? You must be feeling frustrated and confused, two agents take you from where you were and take you to a strange place and you don't understand what's happening! I really understand, but right now we have more urgent matters and we really need you to tell us where you hid it"

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. Unfortunately, appealing to empathy is not going to make you give in. Your lips will be sealed

"I'm sorry…I think I forgot. Also, if you have more urgent matters then I would recommend that you take care of them first."

You smiled mischievously as Mobius lowered his head and sighed in defeat, Loki looked at him.

"Ok I give up, Loki it's your turn I'll go eat a pie"

Loki nodded and smiled. Now that he had his partner's approval, Loki felt freer to question you. Before Mobius left through the door, he approached Loki and whispered.

"Be gently"

After patting him on the back, he trotted off and walked out the door, looking happier. Now Loki was staring at you with hypnotizing green eyes, he had raised his chin a little and looked menacing.

"Good, how about we start on the right foot? I'm just warning you that I won't be as patient as my partner."

His guttural voice echoed in the room and its bounce off the walls reached your ears from different places, it seemed as if there was more than one Loki speaking to you, you shivered a little, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I already told you that I don't remember where I left the ring."

"Oh that's a pity"

To your surprise, Loki was smiling and looking down at you with his hands clasped in front of him. There was something elegant yet intimidating about him. The way he moved or the way he spoke, he did it with Shakespearean grace. Slowly he began to approach you

"You know? Maybe you don't know who I am but I am known for being the god of mischief and for having done terrible, horrible things to many people."

With each thing he said, he took a step and got closer, until he was so close to you that you had to lean back slightly until you almost fell out of your chair and looked at him completely from below with your neck tense, his haughty and threatening presence looming upon you like the shadow of the grim reaper. His head covered the light coming from the ceiling spotlight, making an interesting contrast. Now seeing him against the light, the shadows sharpened Loki's face, framing his perfect nose and jaw, the light seemed to want to stay away from him as if he were someone who belonged to the darkness. You swallowed, intimidated.

"And believe me, I will have no mercy or fear in doing all those terrible and awful things…to you"

His voice was almost a whisper, so low and sounding grave and hoarse, it made you feel things, things that were better not to say. You didn't know why, but those threats didn't provoke fear in you, but rather the opposite. It was hot. Trying to sound casual you said

"Uhh scary man.."

Your voice was almost inaudible almost like a whisper but you managed to try to smile cheekily as some kind of flirt. Loki didn't seem fazed, instead he laughed airily, widening his Cheshire cat smile. And he began to walk around you like a vulture, making his shadow grow that enveloped you like a heavenly or demonic mantle.

"You have guts, I like that. You would have been a great ally in my troops"

Now Loki's voice was close to your ear in the back, whispering to you as he didn't stop spinning.

"But be careful what you say, a slip of the tongue and it could cost you dearly"

With everything he said, added to the fact that his breath tickled your ear from behind, he made you clench your legs and make your body rigid while you held your hands to the seat.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me the cat got your tongue."

Now his laugh was tickling the right side of your cheek as you could feel his green eyes nearby penetrating your face looking into your eyes and mouth.

"Come on, let me hear your sweet voice one more time, I want to know what you have to say."-Loki said, narrowing his eyes for a second and smiling mockingly, but his words sounded like a demand.

"I…I uhm.."

"Oh so the cat did get your tongue anyway"

You cursed inside, biting your lips and frowning, you were behaving stupidly, you couldn't even say a word. Suddenly Loki grabbed your hair, intertwining his fingers and pulling it back slightly, surprised you let out a moan as you placed a hand on his trying to remove it from your hair.

"We can do this all day darling, but at some point you're going to have to start talking, don't you think?"

Loki was still behind you to have easier access to your hair, and he never let go of it. His face was close to your right side and his lips brushed the skin of your ear as he spoke. Without warning his lips collided with the top of your jaw. He wasn't leaving kisses or anything like that but the simple touch of his soft lips running over and caressing your face made you melt.

"You're not going to say anything yet, huh? Bad for you."-He said with his open mouth resting on your cheek.

Loki pulled your hair a little more and placed wet kisses on your jaw, tracing the curve of it. Loki sighed and grunted, panting lightly as if this turned him on too. You bit your lips hard, suppressing your moans.

"You have beautiful, silky skin, but this ugly necklace bothers me greatly."

Loki took something out of his pocket and pressed a button that deactivated the collar and it fell to the ground with a thud. Satisfied now Loki began to kiss and suck on your neck moving your head to the side to have more access. Loki seemed like a thirsty vampire and you his poor victim. You began to thrash as you spread your legs, placing one hand between them to grab the edge of the small seat and unconsciously grinding your hips.

"L-loki..stop..please"-moaning brokenly

"Oh now do you want me to stop? And what is that movement in your hips?"-he mocked shamelessly

You closed your eyes in shame, feeling your cheeks heat up as you tried to stop your hips and dug your nails into the seat.

"That's simple, if you want me to stop then tell me what you know"

Loki growled in your ear as his tongue probed the skin of your neck near your jaw, licking you like ice cream. At this point you could no longer control your moans and you writhed, eager to touch him, to place your hands on his hair as he did with yours.

"Are you sure you want me to stop?"

"NOoo.."

You whimpered as a plea, opening your mouth. Loki assumed you would say that so he let your hair go and stood in front of you. He easily lifted you from the seat, when you stood up your thighs were trembling and you were panting. Loki sat on the small round seat and spread his legs, patting his lap inviting you to sit on it. You blushed and couldn't move a muscle so he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to wrap your legs around his waist, sitting facing you with your eyes fixed on his. Loki placed his large hand on your cheeks, squeezing them a little until he made you pout.

"You are being very unfair to me"

Loki's hand went down to your throat and he brought his mouth close to your ear.

"Will you still not tell me where you hid it?"

Loki looked at you and tightened his fingers a little around the grip on your neck, you shook your head.

"Good"-he smiled

Loki's hand left your neck and moved down your torso slowly and painfully, he seemed to take his time on purpose. With his delicate fingers he traced waves and spirals near your chest, from time to time his palm traveled to the side of your torso near the ribs and cupping your breasts, he even allowed himself to feel your erect nipples with his thumb and squeeze them mischievously as if they were buttons

"Loki!"-you gasped shakily.

"Do you like that, pet?"

You nodded without remorse, your eyes dilating in desire as a shiver ran down your spine. Loki continued to touch you elegantly, his two hands traveled to your waist and didn't stop there. They continued down to your lower belly and your mons, that's when you let out an involuntary moan as you retracted your hips.

Loki, delighting in the noises you made, narrowed his eyes, smiling sideways and tilting his head.

"What do you think now? Will you tell me where it is?"

You shook your head again, biting your lower lip trying to suppress your smile, you felt like a naughty girl about to be punished, it amused you. And Loki seemed to be amused too.

"Ok, don't say I didn't warn you."

Loki placed one hand on your lower back, slightly pulling you towards his body while his other hand was placed on your vagina, that touch made you gasp but more so when his middle and index fingers were placed at your entrance trying to push the fabric of your beige uniform. You couldn't help but squeal like a mouse.

"Oh.. delicious"

Loki rubbed your entrance with his fingers trying to uselessly put them somewhere, even so, his fingers felt your flesh and that gesture began to make you wet. Luckily the fabric of the clothing was light and did not loosen in that area so his fingers could touch your hungry and throbbing pussy without problems.

Again you pathetically began to move your hips hoping to feel more friction while your face buried in the crook of his neck drowning out your babbling and moaning. Loki's calmness was overwhelmingly annoying. You were desperate that he had control, rubbing your back with a strange tenderness contrasted with what his other hand was doing to your core, while he repeated to you to take a deep breath as if you were about to be vaccinated. How could he be so sweet and delicate and a horny pervert at the same time?

"You're doing well, but I'd like to know where the ring is, please."-he said mocking your desperate desires

You still had your face buried in the crook of his neck, muttering and gasping incomprehensible words.

"I'm sorry darling, I didn't hear you correctly, what did you say?"-Loki said as you pressed harder and deeper into your entrance.

"I don't know!"

You moaned sharply, quickly removing your face from his shoulder while you breathed with your mouth open, trying not to succumb to your carnal impulses but you couldn't grip his shoulders tightly as if your hands were pliers.

"What a naughty girl you are. Do you really like being punished? You'll be glad to know I'm not done yet."

Loki grabbed and dug his fingers into your mules, pulling you even closer to him and forcing you to bring your pelvis together and crash against his. You were wondering what he was going to do when suddenly he raised his hips and his bulge collided with your entrance. This drew another louder moan from you. Loki stood there watching your reaction in amusement.

"What a delight to hear you like that, pet"

Another bounce of his hip and you had to close your eyes and bite your lip to keep from letting out the growl that remained locked in your throat. You were practically sitting on his cock and you felt your core throbbing harder and harder until it started to hurt acutely, this was torture, but a pleasurable one. Loki moved his pelvis upward again, holding your hips and threw your head back, releasing a pitiful moan.

"I'll ask you one more time, don't exhaust my patience. WHERE.IS.IT?"

To emphasize his words, he collided his pelvis with yours again, this time more abruptly as he wrinkled his face. You dug your nails into his back and gritted your teeth, you could feel the tears gathering in your eyes.

"I.DON'T.KNOW"

Loki, on the other hand, seemed happy with that answer.

"Whatever you want"

Now without mercy, Loki ground his hips up and down, colliding with your entrance while your hands clung to the back of his neck and you pressed your chest against his. Your face was on his shoulder looking towards the door fearing that someone would come and find you in this embarrassing situation, you had no idea how much time had passed. Loki found his own rhythm going fast and without tiring, you accompanied him bouncing up and down accompanying his hips when he went up, they seemed like a harmonious wave. But they were far from harmony, you two were panting and you were a mess since he started touching you with his manly hands. your palms were sweating and your uniform was starting to stick to your body. When you thought that nothing could be worse, Loki began to kiss your neck again, this time leaving small bites, you closed your eyes tightly and gritted your teeth, feeling like you were losing your mind. Your hand finally gripped his hair tightly and you took revenge, being able to pull him back to which he grunted. This little Eden that had settled between the two of you and the room didn't seem like enough to you. It was just a false sense of pleasure, you really needed him inside you no matter how hard his cock was or how deep you sat on it, you couldn't take this anymore unless he really fucked you properly.

"Loki… I-I give up, I'll tell you... where it is…"-you said between moans and gasps.

"But we were having fun"

He laughed shamelessly as he stopped and let you get off his lap, when you did you could barely stand. You were breathing hard and your knees were bending about to hit the floor and you were all sweaty. Loki seemed a little better than you but you still noticed that the hair on his forehead was damp. Between broken words you kept your promise and gave him the information he wanted.

"See? It was not that difficult"-He said smiling as if nothing had happened while he caressed your cheek with a finger.

At that moment Mobius entered, smiling as always and with a can in one hand. Seeing them in such a pitiful state, his corners loosened a little and confusion appeared on his face.

"What did I miss?"

"Oh nothing, the interrogation was just fruitful"-Loki said while winking at you knowingly.

Mobius and Loki said goodbye to you while you continued standing trying to catch your breath and process what had happened. When the two of them closed the door behind you you could hear Mobius' somewhat muffled voice asking Loki: "Hey, why are you so sweaty? It looks like you ran a marathon."

[suzukiblu]

I've noticed that in various wips both Kon and Match have been the "younger" brother -- is there actually much of an age difference to them, or is it just both of them wanting to be the older brother? Either way, I am very here for your clonecest agenda, 10/10 A+ thank you!!

ngl I am thiiiiis close to doing a clonecest-themed WIP Wednesday (or WIP Not-Wednesday, maybe, hah), I am so so SO tempted by that idea. Like I'm sorry, I am just WAY too into the clonecest lately, haha. I have so much unpublished Match/Kon right now, like why do I have so much of that.

( I mean I KNOW why, but still, it is SO much. like . . . so, so much. I mean, it is in the realm of like, 30k at this point, jfc self hahaha. )

But yeah, the thing with Match vs Kon as the "younger" brother is a continuity thing, I guess? In the comics--at least in the OG run--Match was cloned from Kon within like the first . . . idk, six months to a year or so or his life as, like, the first run of a line of custom metahuman soldiers (back when Kon was technically just human and did NOT have any actual Kryptonian DNA, much less any of LEX'S DNA) that the Agenda was trying to design and mass-produce for, like, actual SALE. So in the comics, Kon is older and is Match's literal genetic template, but in the animated show, Match was cloned from CLARK as a first attempt at cloning Superman that was made before Project Kr produced Conner, and therefore is the older one--just in the cartoon he couldn't, like, actually be stabilized because said DNA was incomplete and unlike Conner, he doesn't have any human DNA to stabilize his build. And also in the comics, the process that the Agenda used to rip Kon's DNA to make Match actually UNZIPPED his DNA, and repairing it got Kon stuck at physically sixteen for a while, but comics!Match was aging normally during that time, so technically he's at least slightly physically older.

Also like . . . YJA!Match and comics!Match are VERY different, personality-wise. And looks-wise. And . . . everything-wise, basically, hah. Like their only real similarity is the name "Match", pretty much. So that's a thing too!

Personally I usually write more comics-based fic, so in most of my stuff Kon is LITERALLY a little older than Match while Match is PHYSICALLY a little older than Kon, adjusting for, like, interdimensional/time-travel/reality reboot/etc nonsense.

[toxicanonymity]

Brothel - Dicks

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

Collect calls SPOILERS

brothel master list

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trouble walks out, fully dressed, buttoning his shirt.

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

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

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

Raider: Can you give us a minute, man?

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

Me: Neither of you are leaving.

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

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

Trouble (7") nods.

Raider: this ain't about sweet pea.

Trouble: that's your issue, man.

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

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

Raider: We know about him.

Oh, shit. Trouble sighs. I play stupid.

Me: you know about who?

Raider: Jojo.

Me: He doesnt have an HC.

Raider: He has a bulge.

Me: I haven't even seen his dick.

Raider: You've seen his dick print.

Me: How do you--

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

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

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

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

Me: You still are, c'mere.

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

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

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

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

(loud smack)

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

[mollywog]

I always like imagining Katniss reading some books post war and I’m ticked at the thought of her reading AOGG and going “this is familiar” about Gilbert and Anne.

Who said it - Anne Shirley or Katniss Everdeen:

“I’m not the forgiving type”

Bahahaha

Now I’m thinking about Peeta kicking his feet as he read Anne of Green Gables post-war. 😆

I know I already have The Everdeens of Abernathy Orchards, but that has its own plot line… I’m so tempted to start a different version that would just hit some of the AOGG plot points more directly:

The Slate Incident - something that would parallel the ‘she came here with me’ and Katniss shoving Peeta into an urn

The Unfortunate Lily Maid - I was trying to decide if there’s a better play or scene for them to enact for some reason I keep thinking of a Viking burial… either way, Katniss would be on the brink of forgiving Peeta but then she’d call him a ‘fool’ over something silly and that would set him both (maybe similar to the rooftop scene before the 74th games?)

The Concert - Katniss with stage fright until she sees Peeta grinning at her and assumes it’s malicious

Peeta giving up the closer school so that Katniss can stay with Prim

I just finished my AOGG Re-read and need to reread the others for more gems, but Anne’s white night while Gilbert is ill is very Katniss with the Pearl in District 13

Other thoughts:

Tell me Effie Trinket isn’t Rachel Lynde -lol

Katniss refusing to acknowledge Peeta the way Anne does the whole first book “and Peet- I mean, some of the other boys” or when anyone asks about Peeta directly “I’m certain I have no idea”

Concluding with this line from Anne of Windy Poplars:

(Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the neck, for instance, most unsuitable.)

Idk, what do you think?

Send suggestions!!

[noowayybroo]

Vampire Man Drabble (NSFW)

I've been rewatching Young Dracula, a BBC show from my "childhood".

I'm kinda obsessed with Count Dracula. I know it's a kid's show but he's so pathetic and whiny and throws so many tantrums, but being such an old man he's so sexy and posh and UGHAAGAH HE HAS MY HEART!!

Also , the guy who plays him (Keith-Lee Castle) Lowkey fits the role so well!!?!?! He looks like SUCH A VAMPIRE!! (I wouldnt look him up idk if hes the best guy)

SO I WANTED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SOME IDEAS, and i know most of my following is admittedly looking for Leon content, so if you squint really hard, or maybe read this with one hand if you catch my drift (nyeh heh heh) maybe you can imagine it's about vampire Leon HEhehehehe

Warnings: Guy is vampire, reader may be human or vampire. NO SEX BUT VIOLENCE. GN!Reader, mentions of scenting, old age, violence, age difference, vampirism, blood, biting, seduction, mentions of death and killing and blood driking. Secretly soft vampire man etc basically all your vampirey shit, STOP READING THEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT BRO, I'll try keep it short k ily bye.

THIS IS A GUIDE:

Stuff about the vampire man

Stuff about the reader being a vampire

Stuff about the reader being a human

THIS IS A RARE TREAT FOR ANYONE READING THIS CUZ I USUALLY LIKE TO WEAR THE FANGS IN THE RELATIONSHIP!! JUST SAYING!! BUT THIS MF HAS MY HEART!

Vampire who was turned at a young age or born into vampirism and has lived with it for oh so long. He's just so old, alone in that castle of his. He's moved to live near humans, but they seldom get a chance to converse, not before his fangs wind up in their necks.

Vampire who watches them go about their short little lives, knowing with confidence that he has and will live many more. Aware that he'll be the end to many more, deadly prowess easily eliminating each hunter or slayer who dares come his way.

Vampire of whom nobody has seen the true colours - only the pristine white of his fangs before they are soiled with the blood of his victims. They only know his rage and strength, and the power and force at which his claws slash at their flesh, at which his fangs sink into their necks.

Vampire who prefers to seduce his victims before plunging them towards their inevitable demise. He will sing them such a sweet lullaby; allure them with gentle praise and affirmation as he draws close, weaving such a sticky web, leaving them entranced. And entranced he is too, as his victim perhaps gazes from a window, or into space itself, but his only captive is the soft melody of his victim's heartbeat. The gentle rhythm, the pulse of their neck drawing him to them like a moth to flame.

Vampire Who almost feels like the victim himself. He was not a monster. He was no villain. No, he was simply wired this way - a victim of his own nature. It was his prey, the cruel, heartless beast who tempted him so dearly with the promise of 8 pints of warm, thick red (accounting for clumsy, desperate spillage.) Oh how he delighted in the feel of it coating the expanse of his hungry throat.

Vampire Whose second favourite method of the hunt is to toy with his prey, for it is no fun if they are not fearful. His cold, undead heart remains unliving for the thrill of the chase. He'll stalk them through the night, he'll become one with the shadows, and only when he feels they are worthy of feeling true fear will he present himself. Springing from the darkness, his soul's only twin, he reveals himself at last like a god unto its disciples.

He will forever delight in the screams - in the sight of each harrowed soul in that moment.

Vampire who is humiliatingly theatrical and old fashioned. When he bears himself to his prey, he must give them a show. It's the least he could do, as it will be their last living moment. He'll either expand his cape, or brandish sharp claws, but either way, his eyes will be dark as night, and piercing fangs will ward off any hope of survival each sacrifice may have had.

Vampire who takes great excitement in tormenting his prey. He is old fashioned, cunning and sly. He'll chase you around an abandoned building and use his supernatural speed to appear right behind the door you thought would bring you victory. He'll mock you with a skeleton, only to refer to it as a future you. If you're fortunate, and he's not too hungry, he might even show you his vast collection of stored blood. Again, he promises that one day, you have this to look up to.

Vampire Surprisingly, he is not as violent or as cruel as it may seem. Sure he kills, and he kills for fun. For the mere thrill of it. But he will not let you die slowly, or painfully at all. He prides himself in how... happy, his victims really can be. His torture follows suit. Scratch you? Harm you? Him? Never. He could never. He wouldn't waste a drop, after all. (Intentionally, that is.) He'd much rather promise you a terrible demise, or chase you towards your doom, having you believe begging or running could really help. His many years have taught him that each effort you make is futile. He will always win. He will always consume. You are not special.

Vampire who sometimes, well after sunset, will stare out of his lonely, dusted window at the town below. He will wonder if it could be possible that there is a chance at love out there for him still. A chance at redemption. A chance to, perhaps, not be so devilish.

On rare occasions, too, say once every 20 years, he thinks this as he stares into the eyes of one of his captives. He'll wonder, sometimes as he hypnotises their free will and thought away, whether he really needs to kill them. But then it's that look on their face. One of fear, or one of braindead submission. It's again, the sound of their heart, of their breath, something he hadn't done in forever, something he yearned to be so close to, to be so near to, and before he knows it, they're limp in his arms, and cold, just as he.

Vampire who throws tantrums on the rare occasion that his prey, or more likely another undead creature or demon, is able to overpower or trick him. He'll slam his fist like a child and bare his fangs. Wailing and wallowing in his own pathetic defeat as black curtains obscure his face. Thunder and lightning will crackle outside, heeding his call, and otherwise, the world will resume. It was sad for him, really, to have so much power, and at the same time to be so insignificant.

Vampire who, despite being immortal, is getting old. He doesn't care for sports, nor for going outside and exercising as a human would. When he chases at a speed, he more floats rather than runs, and so, he's getting rusty, physically and mentally. Perhaps that explains the demise of his fearsome reputation and outlook. Perhaps it is why he is going soft. Laughlines rarely show, but small crowsfeet grace his pale skin as he smiles or bares his fangs. His joints begin to creak. He can no longer do some of the things he could when he was a younger biter without being heard, and he grumbles at simple tasks such as tidying or standing up. He ages with the walls around him.

Vampire Reader Insert:

Vampire who catches a fleeting glance of you at a traditional vampire ball. Really, the two of you are too old for these pathetic customs, him more so, but how else was he to catch up on all the latest fanged gossip, and perhaps find an evil someone to accompany him as he grew older?

Vampire who afterwards goes out of his way to make eye contact with you. When he thinks you're not looking, he combs his nimble fingers through his long hair, preening himself, cursed to never be able to see himself in the many mirrors that surround him. He curses himself, adjusting his over the top attire, wiping any blood from his face. He wants to catch your gaze, just as you have his.

Vampire who can (respectfully) smell it on you. He can tell that you're strong, and that you're dominant. He never thought he was looking for someone, really, especially with his strength and title. It had only really occurred to him that anybody interested would be there to use him. And then, he saw you. Something about you was so devilishly evil. So charming. So alluring and strange. He didn't care if you used him. He wanted you to, suddenly he wanted you to take all he had.

Vampire who anxiously makes conversation with you. He is respectful, despite being well above your status. He can't keep his eyes from your body and face, nor his tongue from his lips as it darts to keep them moist. Quietly, he hopes you're taking note. His hands fiddle and preen. He needs you to enjoy what you see, for it is so rare for him to do so.

Vampire who eventually you begin to court. He practically begs you to move in with him, forming his castle as a home for the two of you. No longer is he alone. Even if you were to betray him now and take all he had, he kept some satisfaction in knowing he wouldn't die alone. Perhaps one day, too, an heir would come from all of this.

Vampire who shares with you some of his powers and wisdom. Who accompanies you on hunts and who works with you to lure prey. You enjoy romantic, playful flights together (as bats, of course) and he, without admitting it, enjoys your dark humour and evil presence in his home. You bring a smile to his face, and a blush to his dead cheeks. You're oh so beautiful and precious in his life, and as more and more time passes, he can imagine giving everything to you.

But what if you're evil, and planned to take everything all along? Well, that would be a fitting demise for him, he thinks as he slowly closes the lid to his coffin beside yours just before the sun rises. And it'd make you all the more evil and devious of a sinner, and that's what he loved about you. Your company, even if not genuine, for love was so twisted and warped for creatures such as yourselves, meant more than words could ever express. If he were human. If he were pumping blood, you would warm him.

Human reader here!!

Vampire who'd never have thought any other humans would be foolish enough to simply let themselves into his castle, at least not this decade! You were the third one this century and it was really getting old. He'd think with all the rumours going around about people never returning alive, or the danger of the castle's crumbling structure that nobody would come back, at least not alone, but here you were.

Vampire who can hear you from rooms away as you walk in. You're human and you're alone. That's all he needs to know to identify that he's safe, and so, he creeps towards you. He balances with both hands and feet on ledges above your head, blending perfectly with the shadows as he stalks you like some huge, predatory cat. And he does this until he can see you. You look divine. You smell divine. And really, he questions the work of some divine intervention, as he was just craving fresh blood the moment you walked in: A lamb to the slaughter.

Vampire who identifies that the blatantly open castle door was how you got in. He didn't really feel the cold, and the wind howling was a permanent sound with how high in the castle he tended to reside, so silly him had left the door open. You must have really thought this place was abandoned. He almost pities you as you walk around, shining your phone's flashlight about. He just about ducks away in time to avoid being spotted as you point your phone at him, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you, ready to pounce.

Vampire who held off, though. He was excited by your presence, and he was oh so hungry, but he was always one to play with his food. He continues to follow you through the shadows, practically salivating and his bustling ideas of how to torment and devour 'this one.' Because, initially, that's all you were to him, food.

Vampire who daydreamt (although it was night) about chasing you through his crypt, hearing your screams for mercy and salvation. He could sit there and munch dead carcasses in front of you just to watch you squirm in horror. He mused to himself about how warm your neck would feel to his lips, and how your blood might taste. He considered how your voice may sound, begging to be freed as he holds you there, firm hands on your shoulders, claws pricking at your soft flesh. He imagines you there, before him, ripe for the taking. The last moment, he opens his eyes and you're gone-

You're gone.

What?

Vampire who looks around desperately, realising that he'd so easily been swept away by his fantasies. And so, he follows your scent and the sound of your soft heartbeat to his room, where, he could swear he hears you murmur "I knew it."

Vampire who catches you gawking at his closed coffin, regal and fancy. You run your small hands over it in awe as if there isn't a blood thirsty creature of the night ready to pounce out and devour you. You seem.. in awe. You look fascinated. Of course, there's a twinge of terror in your face, but for some reason, you haven't run... yet.

Vampire who figures the game is up, and tries to salvage a dramatic entry. He can't appear in the coffin and reveal himself like that, incase you're a slayer and it leaves him vulnerable, and so, from behind you you hear:

"And what brings you to my humble abode?" The question is long, and drawn out, in a posh voice that almost makes you giddy. You can hear the bloodlust dripping from his fangs, and you don't need to turn to see the man who's so close he should be gracing you with his breath. None comes. you know what he is.

Vampire who grins sadistically as you turn on your heels, slowly. He is amused to see the fear finally registering in your features. Oh, and how soft and delicate those features were. He could just reach a hand out and brush his cold digits over them. But he won't. This isn't a time to console you. It's time to instil fear in your soon to be dead heart.

Vampire who gawks when you finally respond to his question. Something absurd about knowing there was a vampire living here. Something ludicrous about actually having visited a few times but never seeing him. Something utterly offensive about whether he lived alone or had a family. The man's jaw clenched. It seemed he had never encountered a victim as chatty or simply curious as you, and he didn't quite know how to feel.

Did you WANT to die or something?

Vampire who towers over you, with eyes wider than your own as he listens to you rattle off about something or other. He doesn't register what you're saying, though. Instead, his mind wonders off to somewhere it never has before. Perhaps, he'll hypnotise you to make you scared, and then he'll have his fun with you. Yes, that should work, because right now, he found you far too distracting.

Vampire who realises, once you've shut up, that actually, there's a more nagging matter:

"Are you here... to kill me?" he asks, looking down at you, shoulders slightly deflated as though you've sucked the prowl out of him.

"Like a slayer?"

"Exactly-" he raises a finger that could really do with a manicure, but you cut him off

"No, not at all, it's just when I heard people went missing... well I just thought this place would be perfect to see a vampire." In all honesty, you kept yapping away in hopes that tears would not prick your eyes and that somehow it'd save you from imminent collapse. You were terrified. He seemed very much real.

Whilst you were in admiration of the pale beast before you, you did not intend to die.

Vampire who fortunately for him isn't letting on just how well you crept under his skin and made a small home there. His senses were conflicted, as a result of your mixed signals, and he wasn't sure how to react. You were scared, he could smell it. He could hear it in the heavy fast thump of your heart. But something else had brought you here. You were curious. Intrigued. You wanted to learn about him, and in a way, he related. He wanted to learn about himself.

Vampire who, whilst he is still very much appealed by the idea of biting into your throat, is starting to enjoy how your hushed voice echoes off the walls of his home. You sounded sweet and pure, unlike any vampire he'd encountered recently. You had a passion. You had a reason to live, and it almost sickened him with jealousy.

Vampire who can no longer fight his newfound impatience as he lets out an animalistic growl, clenching his fist before you with means to silence you, and to his relief, it works. Your mouth slams shut and you stare up into his eyes. He recognises that this, if any, is his perfect time to hypnotise you, and to fix things. That's right. You'd forget everything you've seen and heard, because your words made you slippery, and he feared for his own existence if you escaped, and then, you'd be scared of him. He'd toy with you, kill you, and it'd be over with. Then, he'd be happy once more, and could return to his coffin, without any linger questions of "what if?".

Vampire who waves two fingers before your eyes, ensnaring them and guiding them up to fall onto his. You watch as his dark, brooding eyes become a more perplexing, strange and beautiful colour. A look of mischief tugs at his sharp, dark lips. He has won. Now, he'll hypnotise you, and it'll be over with. Why did he keep telling himself this? It was starting to become tiresome- just do it.

Vampire who freezes up when he hears you enquire about whether he know the science behind his eyes changing colour like that. You swear a vein in his forehead is about to pop. His mouth hangs ajar, defeated. "Look, you, just look into my eyes" he commands, almost pleading in that sultry, dark voice. "Just look and obey..."

Vampire who stares at you for a while, staring into those pretty, captivating eyes of yours. He finds himself lost in the possibility of what to command you, and once he's finally ready to will the words, they disobey him. His mouth moves, but no commands grace your ears. Eventually, you blink, the spell is broken and he clasps his fists shut, growling low in his throat.

Why can't he do it?

Vampire who gives in, providing you with a tour of the castle and all of his ancient belongings. The understanding is that once he's done, you leave, and never tell anybody anything. He wasn't sure if he trusted in you, but hypnosis was out of the question. And since his ordeal of failing to control you, he'd felt quite humiliated. His hunger had been somewhat satiated for now.

Vampire who hides his scarce smile each time you make certain remarks about how gothic, deadly or edgy everything looked. Your modern lingo was beyond him. "Cringe", "Edgy", "Rad", "Babygirl", what did it all mean? At one point, whilst you're analysing a particularly old suit of armour, he stands behind you, arms folded and lips pursed, trying to conclude the meaning behind the umbrella term "Daddy issues" and why you felt the need to mention it to him on now an astounding three separate occasions. When you turned to face him though, he'd stiffen his gate and fix you a menacing glare as if he despised of your company.

Vampire who walks alongside you with perfect posture, his arms are often crossed or still by his side. Occasionally he glances at your neck as he concludes a whole half hour of walking his dinner around his rather shameful home. And then, you both find yourselves at the door. You look up at him, he looks down at you, and then you do something neither of you'd expected.

"Can I stay?"

Vampire who freezes up yet again at your question, but after some stumbling and stuttering, and getting his tongue tied up in his fangs, he reluctantly spits out a 'yes.' All the while, his face contorts, unable to form the words. It's so peculiar speaking at all, let alone to a human. And, he can't say he's ever spoken to one willing to continue risking their lives. You weren't sure why you did it. You just did.

Vampire who stands with you, watching over the town beneath his window, for once, with someone beside him. He seems stiff, and tense, and he cannot ignore your scent, nor the sound of each gentle breath and pulse of your veins. It was only natural: He was your predator, you were his prey. He was meant to kill you now, merely driven by instinct, and yet, he felt content to wait. I mean, it wasn't as if you'd run off in a hurry, was it? For once, a breather like you actually wanted to stay and speak to him. He was almost enamoured.

Vampire who swore to himself in this moment to never admit to another soul, dead or alive, light or dark, how your warmth touched him. He refused to allow himself to snuggle right into you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you and nestling his face into your neck, not to bite or mark this time, but to kiss, and indulge- softly, sweetly. He groaned at the thought, startling you. And then his face hardened, snapping you another glare as if you were the one who had been having such pathetic fantasies.

Vampire who understands that, as a human, you grow weary in the night. He'd forgotten all this time that putting you to sleep would be a great way to shut you up, but there was a reason for his forgetfulness. It was, of course, convenient, because he no longer wanted to silence you. He wanted to bask in your words and warmth; in your conversation and curiosity. You made him feel important, and interesting, and slightly more alive. But the sun would be up soon, and if it caught him, well. He'd be the furthest from alive he's ever been.

Vampire who quickly brushes off and tucks you into the softest bed he can find from memory, and taps you on the nose gently as he leans over you, casting ominous shadows which block out any hopeful rays. He laughs menacingly, brandishing his fangs as his deep gravelly voice reverberates through you "Goodnight, don't let the vampire bite, now, will you?" he teases as he slowly sinks into the shadows, leaving you alone. His low chuckle follows him into the dark.

Vampire who leaves you alone to rest peacefully, or not, depending on whether a) you COULD sleep, and b) he became hungry during the night.

Vampire who spends the rest of his waking moments wondering just what to do with you, until the sun rises, and he returns to his cold, depressing coffin.

Hi guys I really hope whoever of you saw that liked it. I had the idea at about midnight and it's now 2 27 am. I wish I were this productive with literally anything else but due to a series of unfortunate events I crave old, posh, dominant men with soft spots, and this fits the bill.

I'd also like to write more about vampy men, and about maybe teachers or just other older men heheh but also subby men!! and the reader being a vampire!! so please lmk what you think and don't be afraid to ask (just a warning your rq might take me 24747 years to address, it's not personal i just suck)

THANKS GUYS I LOVE U ALL

[daimyosprincess]

SANCTUARY

—PAIRING: Boba Fett x Female Character

—SUMMARY: Sometimes sanctuary isn’t a place, it’s a person.

—WORD COUNT: 1.2k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: third person narration, explicit sexual content, Empire era!Boba, yearning, themes surrounding sex work, oral sex (fem receiving), open-ended ending (like not sad but not necessarily happy either? ends on a sense of longing)

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you so much @wolffegirlsunite for this amazing song prompt ask! I'm trying out third person for the first time (so lemme know if y'all like it) and idk if this counts as a reader insert but I intended for it to kinda be like one, so I kept the female character's description vague. I am also trying to practice writing shorter pieces with these song prompts and let me tell you!! I do not like shutting up!!! I have many thoughts concerning this man!!!! But it wouldn't be a challenge if it was easy 🤨

Enjoy besties 💖

Song: Sanctuary by Joji

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

If you’ve been waiting for falling in love

Babe, you don’t have to wait on me

‘Cause I’ve been aiming for heaven above

But an angel ain’t what I need

It’s always after dark when he comes to see her. Like a fallen star, he touches down on the glimmering world of Canto Bight in the dead of night—a whispered name amongst the patrons in the casino as he passes through the velvet ropes to the pleasure house above. Boba can feel their eyes, their titillation, their curiosity, their fear of him on his back as he ascends the stairs. He pays it no mind because when he crosses the threshold into the Black Rose, only one thing matters to him.

Low lights soon give way to neon walls where beautiful men and women dance, their dark silhouettes enthralling their audience as drinks are served and credits are spilled from pockets. Boba doesn’t bother to stop and admire the show, however, he strides directly over to the pink-skinned Twi’lek sitting in the corner booth. She greets him with a familiar smile, knowing who he is and what he’s here for. She nods wordlessly towards the curtain behind her and the guard steps aside to let him pass.

The music dampens to a dull thump in the gilded waiting room, the air fragranced with dusky rose and sultry amber. He takes off his helmet to let the sweet air kiss his face, a gentle brush over the tips of his ears, the bow of his lips, the tip of his nose. Boba breathes it in, the scent of his escape. The scent that clings to his clothes even after he leaves, reminding him that she’s only ever one call away, laying alone and empty of him. Those thoughts, that sinful fragrance… they make his body ache for hers.

It drives him almost as much as his desire to be the best to honor his father’s legacy. That dull throbbing in his bones is his pain’s pleasure: the satisfaction of completing another job is made even greater with the knowledge that his reward is waiting on Canto Bight. It’s only after his pucks are turned in and his bounties paid that he allows himself to see her. She is a wine he must only sip, her sweet intoxication too tempting to allow himself anything greater. 

Her taste already stains his lips, keeping him from coming in the light of day, despite that the dim interior is never any brighter than it is after the sun sets. Because then she would know. She’d know that if she’s holding out, waiting to fall into that unspoken love that she wouldn’t have to wait on him, that his heaven isn’t one floating in the sky. An angel isn’t what he needs... it’s her. 

That’s why he no longer seeks out anyone else to fulfill his desires, why she’s become the only one. Boba has experienced the thrill of pleasure with many in his years, discovered what he liked and what gave him the release he required to keep his mind clear. Most of all, however, it revealed how he needs the warmth of equal to truly soothe the burning in his core, something more than just the colorful amusement of a dancing girl or the rough diversion of another hunter on a long job. He needs more, firmer ground to touch down upon. He needs a sanctuary.

She likes to make him wait for a couple minutes when he arrives, let their mutual anticipation build to a low boil. Swiping on her trademark ruby lipstick, the Madame of the Black Rose smiles at her painted reflection. Boba Fett is in her waiting room, fresh off a hunt, pent up and ready to burn through all that raw energy. He needs her. He’s never said as much, but she knows that’s why he comes to her, to work through the knots in his soul after being wound so tight. 

Donning the sheer black robe laid out on her chair, she saunters into her waiting room practically purring with delight. Boba is reclined on the low slung chaise, legs apart with his helmet propped on his knee. His pretty lips twitch into the smallest of smiles at her appearance, his dark eyes glinting with salacious intention as they slip down her body. All she has to do is hold out her jeweled hand and he’s pushing her back into her rooms, his hot mouth sealing over hers.

The fervid way they tear into each other, pulling clothes and armor off as quickly as their tangled limbs will allow, speaks the words their lips do not: what you want is what I want. Sincerity in motion, acted out but never spoken of. Two souls that lie awake when apart dreaming of the courageous, secret reality where they give into something real. Something that they passed off for child’s play or a fantasy fit only for those on the opposite side of the galaxy’s underbelly—either way, certainly not something for them. Bounty hunters and working girls, no matter how revered or expensive, don’t get happy endings together. Not in this life at least. 

When he kneels between her thighs, Boba revels in the slick warmth and breathy moans that she allows him to wring out of her with his tongue and fingers. One orgasm is not enough for him, nor two, and just barely three before he comes up for air, panting praises and curses into her soft skin while she runs her nails through his hair. It gives her such pleasure, such luscious pride to see his glossed over eyes and slick-shined face so overwrought and pussy drunk. She hasn’t even touched him properly yet and he’s a man consumed.

When he finally gives her his cock, it’s hard and leaking, flushed with violet want. She relishes in the way he fills her cunt every single time he takes her; the lurid stretch of him burns in her veins, her heart pounds against her ribs as he snaps his strong hips against the back of her thighs. When she flips him on his back to ride him how she likes, she yanks his face up by his curls to kiss and bite and bruise her way into him. Maybe if she kisses him long and deep enough, he’ll hear all the things she cannot bring herself to say. That if he loves her like she loves him, he doesn’t have to wait any longer to make her his. That she doesn’t want an angel or a savior, just him. 

Skin to skin and cheek to cheek, she hopes there’s an osmosis of sentiment. Fuck me harder, she begs her with body, fuck me like you’re not going to leave. Fuck me like our lives won’t end up apart. And he does, again and again, every time he darkens her door. He digs his fingers in, sinks his mark into her giving flesh, pulling her so close because they can never know how long their lifetimes will be. When he holds her so tight her lungs protest and her ribs threaten to crack, she locks her legs around his muscular torso and presses her lips to his ear. We can aim for heaven above, baby, you don’t have to wait on me.

[enbye]

PHROLLSONAS

It's apparently 2014 again because I just made Dan and Phil as Homestuck Trolls. I don't know what possessed me to do this in the year of our lord 2024 but I don't think any of ya'll are in a position to judge me

DANIEL HOWELL

Muse of Heart, Derse, Sign: GEMO

PHILIP LESTER

Lord of Time, Prospit, Sign: AQUIUS

EXPLANATIONS UNDER CUT:

I am in no way a classpect expert. I'm going based off what I've read and my Homestuck knowledge. I didn't get the classpect DLC when I got the homestuck autism- I got the Alternian Culture special interest instead. In any case, here's my best crack at it:

DANIEL HOWELL: MUSE OF HEART, DERSE DREAMER, GEMO

Derse dreamer- skeptical, rebellious, self-aware, “But as so much of their identity is built on control, they will do their utmost to hide any insecurities, often with false humility or self-deprecating humor.” 

Aspect: My first instinct was Time, but in order to be a Time player you have to have the ability to “go with the flow” just a bit. Not overthink things. They’re very action oriented, yes, but Time players should be able to rely on their instinct a bit. Even though the aspects are sometimes what the player would struggle the most with, I just can’t see Dan getting a good grip on Time at all. He’d have way too many existential crises, and he’d overthink things way too much. Also, Dan’s “ultimate self” is more about accepting himself, loving himself. Learning to appreciate where he is at the moment, rather than learning to take action without overthinking.

For that reason, I went with the HEART aspect. 

Class: I was tempted to go with Page for the whole “slowly start, but when they finally achieve it’s probably the most powerful class” but I don’t think the end result quite matches. I don’t think Dan’s ultimate self is about *using* his aspect. I think it’s about understanding and inspiring. For that reason I was tempted to go with either Mage or Muse. I know Muse is pretty much a “female only class” Or, at least, the paradox space tends to label it as such, but Sister Daniel does seem to be a big part of Dan’s journey to understanding and inspiring with his aspect so I went with Muse, cause fuck it.

For their blood colors I just went with what their zodiac sign was bc I didn’t feel like getting too wet and wild with the hemospectrum stuff so he’s a gold blood. 

PHILIP LESTER: LORD OF BREATH, PROSPIT DREAMER, AQUIUS

Prospit: Optimistic, reactive, intuitive. “They solve problems with creativity rather than cold logic” “When making decisions Prospit Dreamers tend to rely on gut instinct and whatever emotions they are experiencing at the moment.” “They have trouble thinking things through, and their feelings toward specific situations and decisions can change from day to day.” Idk it just fits

Aspect was a bit tricky. For a second there I thought Hope, but I didn’t think the “black and white” thinking fit very well. I was very tempted to go with Blood, but ultimately decided to go with Breath instead. I think the “”flaws”” for Breath fit better than the “”flaws”” for blood. Phil is, surprising for nobody but him, a great leader and inspirational, charismatic. He leaves Huge impacts in people’s lives without even realizing it. Without even considering it a possibility, even. Not became he’s insecure, but because that’s not his intention. Phil’s ultimate self is about the bonds he makes, which is why I was so tempted to go with Blood, but it’s also about finding a place that he is happy in, and about doing what he loves. The ultimate goal for Phil’s ultimate self is about enjoying the journey and motivating himself to be looking ahead, straight forward, and taking the actions to get there. 

Class was really hard to choose, I ended up going with Lord. I think Phil’s power for inspiration and adaptability is best utilized when he’s dominating a space he’s in. When he’s using his talents on purpose to achieve his goals. I think *that’s* what his ultimate self is really about. Using his gift for charisma, inspiration, motivation, and adaptability to achieve his goals in a very intentional way. 

Again, went with their actual zodiac, so violet blood.

lmk what ya'll think. Hopefully my explanations made sense? I spent WAY too long on this so I'm gonna go eat now

[screamingcrows]

Boothill and feeling like a stranger in his own body

Does he sometimes experience depersonalisation and a complete mental disconnect from the new parts of his body? Does he sometimes look in a mirror and logically recognise himself but at the same time he can't help but feel on edge, because that's not him in his entirety. At least it wasn't at some point.

Would he experience phantom sensations and pain in the parts that were replaced with technology?

How would his interoception function? Would he have a heightened sense of exactly what is going on in his body, or would there have to be some barrier between his conscious mind and the sensory devices that monitor internal functions because the human mind simply was never made to process that amount of information. I'm leaning towards the last option, I don't think anyone would be able to stay sane if they were constantly aware of what their internal parts (organic or not) were doing. Would he even need pain reception from the parts of his body that are mechanical, or do those parts break under stress?

How uncomfortable is it to be in a body with different limits than what you'd be used to? I'm thinking about things like hand and finger mobility, think about it. If you try to push a joint in the wrong direction, your body will stop you by either restricting how much force you can exert either the other hand or tell you "hey this fucking hurts" which will also lead to stopping (I hope lmao). But with a robotic body that wouldn't be necessary because the joints might be hinged differently and able to bend both forward and back, idk why they would but they could. Would his brain go "oh fuck" when he sees that because rationally the mind would expect the same limitations as are imposed on a human? I'm tempted to say yes, because the mind is usually pretty set in its ways.

How fucking uncomfortable must it be to have a body that is designed to transcend what your mind can comprehend? Incredibly, I think. Overall doesn't sound like a lot of fun. Boothill seems fun, I want more Boothill.