#ill ride it until we both pass out

[muddyorbsblr]

a heart like yours outtake: at her side

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @lokiprompts | View request here

Placement: Years before the events of the main story

Summary: You return from a mission in Peru having been stung by a plant that causes uncontrollable itching, and Banner's antidote has a rather feverish side effect.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: steamy moments alluding to a blue-skinned red-eyed mango ride at the end, but other than that…nothing. this is mostly fluff [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: idiots in love

If anyone dared question him why he'd chosen to situate himself close to the landing bay on this particular day and implied that it was done so that he could be one of the first to see to your return after a month-long mission with his brother in Peru, Loki would have denied it until the air depleted from his lungs. Lived up to his title of 'god of lies'.

The last thing he wanted was for you to find out that he'd been harboring any form of affection for you, and risked tearing asunder what ever semblance of a friendship you two had established in the months leading up to you leaving for your mission. There was no reason for you to know that he'd spent the last month within the mission control room, practically bounding into action whenever your voice filled the room, asking for an assist.

Or the relief that ran through his entire body when you finally sent in the update that you were en route back to the Tower.

He couldn't even bring himself to pretend to read the book he held in his hand while awaiting the arrival of your aircraft, failing to remember to acknowledge the mumbled greetings from passing SHIELD agents. All he could do was stare intently at the helipad, as if concentrating harder would somehow materialize the aircraft on the spot, and you would finally be back.

However, the god's eagerness quickly dissipated into concern once you finally did arrive, and you were curled up in fetal position in Thor's arms as he carried you into the Tower. "She fell ill," his brother explained, quite lamely, once he stepped through the doors.

"What did you do?"

"I assure you, Brother, I did nothing," he answered. "We stepped into the jet, and Lady Y/N mentioned something about being scratched by a plant and started shouting at me to have her strapped down before she scratched all her skin off."

The two Asgardians made their way to the infirmary, the older of them shouting for Dr. Banner to join them so they could find a cure.

"You're overreacting, Thunder," you muttered, holding on to both sides of the narrow stretcher, your entire mortal form tense as you fought against the itch, an alarming rash blooming all over your arms and neck. And those were only the areas visible to those in the room with you.

It took Banner quite a few moments to put together a serum that would counteract the effects of the plant that you explained was called "stinging nettle".

"Alright, this should get rid of the rashes, but I have to warn you, there is a possibility that you contract one hell of a fever after. Your body's literally fighting off poison, Y/L/N," he informed you, fighting back a chuckle when you all too enthusiastically nodded, presenting your forearm and answering him with a whispered impatient 'gimme it'. He injected the serum directly into a vein, and you had a few good moments of sheer relief, a smile playing at the sides of your mouth as the itching subsided.

But then you began to writhe again, groaning in clear discomfort as you began burning up. "Yup, there it is," you hissed. A sheen of alarming crimson bloomed across your skin, sweat starting to break out on your forehead. You made a motion to stand, pushing Loki to spring into action, ready to hold you upright if you stumbled. "This isn't my first rodeo, guys, it's fine. Plenty of fluids, bed rest, should be over in a few days. Right?"

You took a step before letting out a sharp cry of pain, clutching your head and instinctively leaning on the god to keep yourself steady. "Alright, little mortal, up you go," he said, scooping you up into his arms in an effortless, fluid motion. "No more walking until you're better."

He carried you to your apartment, gently laying you on your bed before going to wet a towel, using his Jotun powers to put it at a near freezing temperature before placing it on your forehead. You let out an exhale of pure relief from the contact, murmuring a faint 'thank you'.

"Rest, darling," he said softly, fighting back the urge to press a kiss to your forehead. You weren't his; that wasn't his place. "I shall bring you something to eat."

You were much too tired to protest, offering him merely a little nod before your breathing evened out. Once he made his way to the kitchen area, he found Romanoff there with her phone in hand, a rather inquisitive look on her face as she stared down the god.

"Banner told me Y/N's got a fever," she said, tapping away at her device. "Her comfort food of choice is fried crescent dumplings from the Chinese place down the block, and they should be arriving right about--"

"Agent Romanoff, you have a delivery at the main lobby," FRIDAY announced through the floor's PA system, making the Russian agent smile as if it was right on cue. "Shall I have it sent up?"

"Now," she told the god. "Thanks, FRIDAY. Laufeyson's gonna receive it." Before he could say anything, she posed a question for him. "Why don't you just use your magic to get rid of the fever?"

The question, simple as it was, had Loki internally stumbling to find the words. There was no logical answer for why he had chosen this course of action, especially when there was a much more expedient alternative at the tips of his fingers. He selfishly chose this to spend more time with you. Because of his affections toward you.

"There is already an excess of foreign bodies in her system, Romanoff," he said slowly. "I do not wish to add to that physical stress on her."

She merely nodded, making her way out of the kitchen, presumably to her own apartment. When she was about to pass him, however, she imparted some words that nearly stopped Loki's heart in his chest. "It's not a crime to like someone, you know. And it doesn't make you any less of a man or god, whatever you wanna call yourself, if you admit it. One more thing, ginger tea with a dash of cayenne pepper powder. She hates the stuff but it should help."

He prepared a tray to hold your food and a pot of the tea that Agent Romanoff suggested, a small smile tugging at his mouth when he saw how your nose curled up when you smelled the hot beverage. "Dammit, Nat even told you about the pepper?" There was an almost endearing whining tone in your voice, your bottom lip jutting out in a little pout; the god nearly let out a chuckle when you took a sip and your whole face scrunched up from the taste.

"I know it's rather ghastly, darling. But it will help you," he said softly, placing the back of his hand on your forehead. "You're feverish again," he grumbled, making the split second decision to shift into his Jotun form, his now much colder skin helping to cool the air around you. "Is this alright? I can change back if it's too unsettling for you--"

"It's fine, Loki," you told him, warming his heart when you gave him a tiny smile. "I actually think you look badass like that. I can tell you there's even a subset of people on the Internet that find it hot." You shut your eyes, shaking your head as if you were mentally scolding yourself. "I'm sorry I talk too much my filter goes straight out the window when I'm sick."

"You need not apologize, little mortal," he assured you. There was, however, a stray thought in the back of his mind, wondering if you were among that subset of people that found his Jotun form slightly appealing. He didn't dare voice it, though.

He sat with you in silence, relieved that he was able to help your fever become a touch more bearable and that at least you weren't perspiring as much as you were when Banner's serum first worked its way through your system. You needed some mild encouragement to get through the tea though, the god having to talk you through every other sip, some rather rude and intrusive thoughts making their presence felt in his mind.

Namely in the form of saying the phrases "That's it, little mortal" and "Just a little more, darling" to you in the very same bed, only under more pleasurable circumstances.

And the more he tried to shoo the images away, the worse they persisted.

Once you were finished, the tray disappeared off the bed in a flash of green, re-materializing on the floor by your front door. "Get some sleep, darling. When you wake you will feel substantially better, I assure you."

He conjured a book from his personal library in his hand, reading you a tale from the Vanir fables to help you fall into slumber. As your breathing began to even out, you lay a feverish hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Loki," you said softly. Weakly. "You don't have to worry, I won't tell a soul."

"Tell them what, Y/N?"

"That you're actually a nice guy. You're all tough out there and you look like you don't give a fuck about anyone, but you actually show up for your friends. I know you have a whole image to keep, your secret's safe with me."

Before he could respond, your hand went slack, a peaceful look on your face as you fell asleep. That was when he used his magic to expedite your recovery, nearly all traces of your even having a fever chased out of your system with a wave of his hand.

He shifted back into his Aesir form before placing your covers over you, leaning down to whisper to your sleeping form, "It matters not to me who knows, little mortal. So long as you do."

A few years later…

"My love, do you remember when you fell ill after your mission in Peru with my brother?" Loki asked you, blissfully holding you in his arms as you both lay in bed, tracing his fingers along the length of your spine.

"Hmmm, a little," you told him, shuffling even closer to him and resting your chin on his bare chest. "I remember the stinging nettle, and the fever…and I remember you carrying me to my apartment." Your mouth stretched into a wide smile as you recalled that particular memory. "Precursor of things to come, I guess."

"Oh yes," he said in a low sexy grumble, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling him on the bed. "I look forward to carrying you out of the throne room after the ceremony…" He pulled you in for a kiss, softly moaning into your mouth as he weaved his fingers into your hair. "Straight to my bedchambers…"

A thrill shot through you just thinking of what lay ahead for the two of you in the coming months. Nat and Wanda were ecstatic getting to plan the lavish ceremony over in Asgard, and Loki's mother Queen Frigga, your soon-to-be mother-in-law, nearly tripped over her own feet volunteering to make your gown for the wedding.

"I remember you reading to me," you continued, brushing your nose against his. "And you brought me dumplings. And that god awful tea that Nat makes me drink whenever I get sick." He let out a chuckle at that last bit, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, embracing you just a bit tighter. "Why'd you ask?"

"That was the day I realized I'd fallen in love with you," he confessed, his fingers starting to play with a lock of your hair. "Tending to your recovery, and knowing full well that had it been anyone else I would not have exerted the same effort, it made me face the startling reality that what I had begun to feel for you was not simply…lust or a surface-level affection.

"But right as you fell asleep, the words you said to me? That told me why I had fallen so deeply and thoroughly in love with you. Because you saw me; you may be perhaps the only one in my centuries alive who ever truly did."

His words had you melting, feeling the unmistakable sensation of butterflies going crazy in your stomach, as they often did any time you were with him. But his words also brought a shocking question to mind. "Hang on…Peru was years before the Sin Healer. I wasn't even seeing anybody back then, why didn't you say anything?"

We could have had so much more time together, you thought to yourself, lamenting on the months…the years that you lost.

"Back then, I couldn't comprehend that there could be a world wherein you returned my love," he explained, already moving to wipe away the tear that began to fall from your eye. "I kept quiet so that I may remain in your life, even if it had been simply as a friend."

That settled it. You two really were idiots way back when. You took a deep breath, relieved to actually be able to tell your future husband the words. "Loki, I was already in love with you back then." A brilliant smile stretched across his face hearing your confession. "I didn't ever think you'd ever even be attracted to me, so I kept my mouth shut. I was just happy you even considered me a friend."

Loki flipped you onto your back, his gaze darkening as his smile morphed into that smirk that turned you into a squirming mess of a woman. "You've always been so much more, my darling mortal." He leaned down to press his lips to the base of your throat, chuckling against your skin when your breathing hitched from his attentions. "I remember another remark you made that day…about my Jotun form. Something about others perhaps finding it appealing?"

"Ohh…" you squeaked, your face flushed as you begun to recall those specific words. "What about it?"

"I'm just…rather curious, sweetheart." Your breathing became ragged and labored watching as his stormy blue eyes turned crimson, his skin becoming an icy blue, and patterned ridges rose all over his face and body. "Are you among those people?"

A/N: I can't tell y'all how happy I am that I got to write a request that ended up with me returning to the blorbos of 'a heart like yours'. This was my first finished series so it's always gonna hold a special place in my heart 🥹

There's at least one more outtake I have in mind for this couple, but I honestly don't know when I'll get to that…we'll see where the brain takes me

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke

[zzenxell]

for the record (MDNI)

cowboy!mingi x saloon owner!fem reader

pairing: cowboy!mingi x bar owner! reader

genre: smut 18+

rating: mature

word count: 6.2k

summary: a lone bar owner on a dead day in a small town is taken for the ride of her life once a regularly visiting bounty hunter enters through the swinging doors

warnings: explicit language (like... real explicit) || smut (very intense, i fear. please don't read in public or if under the age of 18) || sub/dom themes || fingering (f recieivng) || oral stimulation (f/m receiving) || big dick!mingi (as we all know) || unprotected (wrap it up irl) || creampie (oatmeal) || nicknames (sweetheart, darling, love, angel, doll, pretty, pretty girl, sweet pea, cumslut, slut) || multiple orgasms ||

zzen's notes: save a horse, ride a cowboy everyday of my life is said cowboy is mingi🤭 also, first one shot type thing written on here so pretty please show love and give requests so i can write more

ALSO sorry this shit took so long lol went to hell and back just to get my writers block dealt with. i also have this on AO3 which is where ill be posting all my works as well. link in bio :P

(partially proofread. im lazy)

On a cold and gloomy day, you work around the saloon you own in a quaint little town. A dead one. Barely any travelers were out and hardly any of the regulars stopped by. Tumbleweeds passed by the saloon doors with a foot-high opening at the bottom, swinging in the wind with a creak. You sigh, focusing on the small stack of used and dirty cups needing a good clean. It was rare to have such an uninteresting day around these parts. Normally, there would be at least one person in here. Or a group of cowboys causing a ruckus in the far corner booth. It was eerily quiet, both inside and outside the small wooden building. 

In the middle of toweling dry a glass, the doors fly open. You figure it was just the wind again until you hear boots scuffling the planks of the floor. You turn, looking towards the sound, and see one of your regulars. Song Mingi. A well-known bounty hunter who has a habit of coming in once a week to get a whiskey sour. Several, at that. Normally covered in blood and dirt, he looks clean this time. Setting the glass down, you lean against the counter behind you and cross your arms with a smirk. 

“Fancy seeing you ‘round. Quite the weather to be out and about,” You say with a drawl, looking over the man briefly before meeting his gaze again. He smirks at you and places his cowboy hat on the counter before perching himself on the stool in front of you. He’s always been infatuated with you. Your attitude, your aura, your energy. Everything about you is so… alluring. It captivates him every time. Him meaning his throbbing dick between his thighs that happens to harden the moment he walks into your bar. 

“I needed a drink and wanted to see my favorite bar owner. That a crime, sweetheart?” He tilts his head, that disgustingly sexy smirk still sitting on his face as his eyes run over you as well. You knew damn well and good that he wants you. Always has since his first appearance in your bar. He made it known. The first encounter being him with his group of wildlings. All of them drunk off their asses in the corner booth and trying to get you to buy them a round. You folded, obviously, and brought over two pitchers of beer just to shut them up. That was the first time you noticed him. His cowboy hat sitting slanted on his head and only being able to see the lower part of his face. Though that night, he lifted his head to meet your gaze. That same stupid smirk sitting on his face as he nodded in appreciation. That was also the first time you went home and rubbed one out to the thought of him. Which, now that you think about it, seems to be the normal ritual for when you get home. 

“Well, I appreciate the compliment, cowboy,” You scoff out a soft laugh and pick up a clean glass, making his usual concoction before sliding the glass across the counter to him. His fingers barely brush against yours and both of you have to hold back to grab each other's hands. You won’t lie and say you have a fantasy of getting thrown over this very bartop and having him fuck you roughly from behind. To have his large, rough, and calloused hands wrapped around your waist. Oh, to hear his moans in the deep raspiness of his voice. Fuck, you were getting turned on just thinking about it. But you also can’t let him know that. It’ll boost his ego too much and make him think he has a chance. (He does). 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing you like a hawk while doing so. His mind is running with all the thoughts of what he wants to do to you. To pin you against the wall of liquor that looms behind you. To fuck that tight little cunt of yours that he knows is tight and pink. Like it was made for him and only him. To bend you over this counter and fuck you till you're crying out in pleasure. His cock bruising your insides in the best way possible. Shooting everything in him to coat the velvety walls of your pussy. God, what he would do to taste you. 

Shaking his head from his thoughts, he turns his gaze around the empty saloon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Seems like you’re pretty busy here, eh?” His head turns back to you and his glass presses to his lips once more, taking another sip of his drink before letting the glass settle on the counter. Leaning back against the seat, he eyes you once again. His cock twitching in his jeans as his gaze falls to your plump and, oh-so-beautiful breasts. Even behind that button-up and vest, he knows they’re plump. Round and full. Perfect for his huge hands to grasp and fondle. To tease those perky nipples into a stimulation you haven’t felt before. He swallows thickly and meets your gaze. 

Smirking knowingly, you push off the counter and walk to the opposite end to discard the towel into a dirty waste bin. Unlike many other women in town, you refuse to wear blouses, skirts, and underskirts. Fuck that. You dress yourself in jeans, chaps, and a white button-up that's tucked under your belt. Your leather vest frayed around the chest, the fringe swaying with each of your subtle movements. 

“Quite the day indeed, I’ll tell you that. You’re the first and only customer all day,” Standing back up straight, you face him and saunter back to stand in front of him. No other person to pay attention to. Might as well.. play a little. Leaning against the bartop in front of him, you grab his glass and take a sip all while keeping his gaze. He visibly swallows and eyes your lips wrapped around the glass. The glass clinks to the counter and you grab his hat next, placing it atop your head with a smirk. 

His gaze never leaves you and something in him switches once he sees his hat on your head. You must not know the untold fact about wearing a man's cowboy hat. Mingi’s grin grows and he leans his forearms on the counter. “You know, You look mighty sexy with my hat on that pretty head of yours,” His voice drops a few tones as he licks his lips. The head he’s imagined pushing down over his cock with your pretty pink lips wrapped around him. Your eyes welling with tears because he’s too big for you. Fucking your throat raw until he cums and watches his seed spill from the corners of your lips. Fuck, to be in your mouth right now. His pants tighten again and he bites his lip to hold back a groan. “You don’t know what that means, do you, hun?” 

Your eyes narrow, questioning him silently before setting his hat back down beside his glass. Leaning your forearms between his in the counter, you lean forward a little. “What does it mean, cowboy?” Your tone teasing, sultry even, as you speak. Tongue darting out to wet your lips almost in anticipation. His smirk only grows and he leans forward as well. 

“When a pretty girl like yourself wears a man’s hat, it means you’re his… and his only,” He’s whispering now. Somehow sounding even sexier like this. Your mind flurries with phrases you want him to whisper in your ear while he’s deep inside you and you swallow dryly as you eye his lips. 

“That so?” You question back, cocking your head to the side slightly before meeting his gaze again. It darkens immediately and his hands clench into fists against the wood of the bar top. The nod is subtle, but you see it. That makes your smirk grow as well. Just as he starts to lean forward again, you pull away and place your hands firmly on the counter. “Maybe I should wear it more often then… whaddyu think?” His heart stutters and his eyes widen a little. Fuck you’re bold. And he loves it. Loves the thought of you being his to come home to and fuck the brains out of. To relieve the stress of having to kill people for money to scrape by. And to have you by his side would be a dream of his. One he would gladly make into a reality if you gave him even the smallest chance. A scoff of a laugh leaves him and he picks his glass back up and down the rest of his drink. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. You know I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You laugh softly and take his empty glass from the counter to clean, rinsing it under water before towel drying it and setting it with the others behind you. In the silence, you’re thinking about the many ways you could tempt him right now. Simply unbutton the top of your shirt, taking your vest off. Even just adjusting yourself. Anything you do would get him going. 

So you do it. Shedding your vest slowly from your shoulders and tossing it to the side before undoing the top two buttons of your shirt. Cleavage is now out in the open for him to see. His eyes dropping instantly with a deep and sharp sigh. He licks his lips, almost hungrily, as he takes in your newfound boldness. “What are you playing at, Y/N?” His voice is deeper than before and raspier than you’ve ever heard it. It sends shivers down your spine and straight to your pussy that's already clenching around nothing. You can feel how wet you are despite not even being touched. That is the power his voice holds over you. And it should be illegal. 

“I’m not playing at anything, cowboy. Just got a little hot. That a crime?” I throw his earlier said words at him and bend over in front of him to “fetch a rag” from the floor. His breath hitches and he lets out a soft groan. Mingi’s hand now covers his mouth while the other disappears underneath the counter. Shit, is he touching himself? Just at the sight of my titties? “Bullshit,” his voice strained and his eyes fall shut in an attempt to rid his mind of these thoughts. You’re teasing him. He won’t get anything from you. He knows he won’t. But, fuck, if he can’t help thinking about sliding his cock between those fucking tits of yours and coating them with his cum. The very thought sends another wave of arousal through him and his hand palms his dick through his pants, which elicits another groan from him. “What. Are you. Playing at?” He asks again, stern this time. You can’t help but smirk at him, even if he can’t see you right now with his eyes clenched shut. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hun,” again, teasing him. He should just shut you up now and shove his cock down your throat until you can’t see anything but the tears in your eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he leans further back into the stool and stares up at the ceiling, letting out heavy huffs of air as his other hand continues to slowly move along his hard cock. 

“You… are a cock tease,” he says after a few moments of silence and finally turns his gaze back to you. He can’t take this shit anymore and stands from the stool. Marching over to the entrance that leads behind the bar, he throws it open and stalks over to you, placing both hands on the counter that you lean against. Now that you’re caged in, you realize… you want him to fuck you senseless. You want to suck him down and swallow everything he gives you. Your hands fall to his chest, pressing firmly against it as if to push him away. Your attempts fail because he’s a giant compared to you. His frame blocks everything out of view and all you can do is stare up at his hardened gaze. “You like being a tease? Huh? You want me to show you what happens when you tease too much, sweetheart?” 

His words send a thrill through your body. Fuck yeah, you want him to show you. You want him to demolish you right now against this counter and fuck you so hard that the liquor bottles fall and shatter around you as you cream over his cock you know is big, just like the rest of him. A sly smile forms on your face and your hands decide they want to move over the expanse of his chest. Even when it's covered in his button-up and vest, you feel the muscles tense under your touch. Another groan leaves him and his face drops closer to yours. 

“Don’t fuck with me right now, doll…” he mutters out and drops his face even lower, ghosting against the skin of your neck. His hot breath fanning out with each heavy huff. Hands now moving from the counter behind you to grip at your waist. Fuck… they were so big. He was big. He could so easily manhandle you right now and you wouldn’t have a care in the world. 

“You don’t want me to fuck you, Mingi?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and your head tilts a little as you feel his lips press to the side of your neck. Brushing right below your ear and down to where your shoulder and neck connect. Another groan, this one deeper and more elongated. His grip tightens on your waist and, suddenly, his teeth are in your neck. A sharp moan leaves you and your eyes flutter shut. That’s gonna leave a mark. But who cares? Neither of you right now. 

“You want me to fuck you, y/n? You want my cock inside you? Is that what it is?” He mumbles against your neck, still attacking it with his lips and tongue, leaving several marks of his behind. Each one elicits a soft whimper to pass through your lips. Your hands clench against the fabric of his shirt and you turn your head, forcing him to leave your neck. Though his eyes never leave the sight of the dark marks he left behind.

“Maybe I do…” you whisper to him and move one of your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a well-needed kiss. Messy and sloppy and dirty and wet. One that both of you had dreamt of many times in the solitude of your homes. He groans into the kiss, moving one hand from your waist to tangle in your hair and tilt your head back so he can shove his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips and let him take over. His tongue slides and dominates yours as it feels around your mouth. Fuck, this was hot. You honestly could cum from this. His soft and plump lips pressed to yours, despite the taste of whiskey that coated his mouth. Your hand slides into his hair to grip tightly as you pull him closer to you. His other hand moves from your waist and slides down, toying with your belt before ripping it out of the belt loops. It clings to the ground and his next action is unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans. 

He pulls away from your lips, just for a breather. His eyes cast down to stare at your now swollen lips. Smirking, he moves the hand from your hair to brush a thumb over your bottom lip. A soft whimper escapes you as you watch him. His face is full of desire and pent-up arousal. He presses against you harder and you feel his straining cock press into your stomach. Now you’re glancing down to see the very large bulge in his jeans. He chuckles lowly and lifts your face back up with a tight grip under your chin. His other hand successfully gets your pants undone, shoving them down quickly. Your legs instinctively spread for him with a gasp. Feeling his touch against your clothed clit almost made you lose it and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, hips jolting at his touch. 

“That how wet I make you, doll? You’re fucking drenched… what a slut you are,” He whispers against your ear. You knew how wet you were, but the vulgarity of his words makes you even more so. Pussy clenching around nothing, pulsing from the inside with a hunger for him and him only. His fingers tease the cloth of your panties slowly, drawing out any sound he can from you in the process as his lips reconnect with your neck. “You are a slut, aren’t you? A cock-loving cum slut… ready to fuck any man who walks into your saloon, huh?” 

You shiver at his words and let out a needy moan. Again, the vulgarity coming from this man makes you want to jump him. In response, you nod eagerly. Wanting nothing more than to fuck him in this very moment like the cumslut he says you are. “Fuck, Mingi… please just-... just fuck me already.” The words are a plea. A beg for him to do more than just touch you through your soaked panties. He smirks against your neck and pulls away to look down at you. 

“Right here in the front of the saloon where anyone could walk in and see you on full display? I don’t think so, doll.” With that, he pulls his hand from your pants and grabs your waist to hoist you up, pressing you against him as he quickly makes his way to your office door. Your legs wrap around him and your arms snake around his broad shoulders to hold yourself in place. He knows where your office is solely because he’s seen you walk back there many times. Just so he can see that pretty little ass of yours in these tight jeans you always wear. His hands knead the flesh of your ass through your jeans, walking with a purpose so he can get you bent over the desk like the whore you are. 

You, on the other hand, are now clinging to his shoulders for the life of you. Head buried into his neck with lips pressed to his neck in a fervor to try and get some of your desires out. Nothing works. You need his cock. For him to be inside you and fucking you senseless until you don’t even remember your damn name. The whimpers leaving you are breathless and desperate. He kicks the door open, setting you down on the desk before shutting the door behind him and shedding his vest from his shoulders. His belt buckle unlatches as he pulls his belt from his pants and shoves his pants down without even undoing them. His boxers sliding down as well, revealing his hard and thick cock to your eyes. It’s huge. Girthy and veiny, red tip leaking with precum and can easily tear you in two. He stares down at you, legs spread against the desk with your arms behind your back to support your weight. He lets out a groan and strokes himself a few times before walking over to where you sit.

“Knees, angel. Get on ‘em,” With his hand still on his cock, he motions with his other for you to do as he says. And, like the compliant little slut you are, you listen, Dropping to your knees in front of him with his big fucking cock in front of your face. You lick your lips, moving your hands to his thighs slowly, but he pushes them away with a tsk. “Uh uh. Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours before you do anything. I want you crying around my cock before I fuck you. Hands behind your back.” Your eyes widen at his words, but you nod and settle your hands behind your back, looking up at him. Your chest heaves with the deep breaths you take. In this position, your panties are pulled taut enough that they just so happen to ride right against your clit and you could easily get off like this. Sucking him dry and cumming from giving him pleasure. Fuck, just the thought of swallowing him down makes you almost cum. His eyes narrow down at you and he steps closer, pressing his tip against your cheek before slapping himself against you with a groan. 

“Fuck, doll… you look good down there,” He all but whispers out and moves his free hand to grip your hair away from your face. His other hand guides his tip across your lips and you open willingly for him. That action makes him stifle back a guttural moan, but he doesn’t plunge himself in yet. He wants to hear you beg for his cock. “You want it? Let me hear you, baby. Tell me how much you want me to fuck your mouth… 'cause I know you want me to.” 

You whimper, clenching your eyes shut briefly to get your mind unfogged so you can speak to him. “Mingi… please fuck my mouth. Use me. By all means, use my mouth for your pleasure. Please, baby. I need your cum down my throat. I need to taste you,” the words fall out so easily despite your brain being mush. He seems satisfied with your answer though, smiling down at you like a predator about to devour its prey. 

“Open nice and wide for me, doll,” And you listen, almost dislocating your jaw with the speed in which you drop it down for him. He lets out a hum of appreciation and circles his tip around your lips once more before pressing his tip in. Cursing under his breath, he slowly inches forward as his grip on your hair tightens. It took everything in him to go slow and not surge himself to the back of your throat. “There we go… such a good girl.” He mutters out with his eyes shut in pleasure. Your tongue begins to swirl over every part it can reach despite him stretching your mouth to new heights. He pulls back out after getting half of his length in, then slowly presses himself back into the hilt. That elicits a loud moan from him and a gag from you, but you take him willingly. Your eyes blinking up at him with tears starting to form at the corners.

After a few seconds of him with his cock down your throat, he opens his eyes and looks down at you with a hint of a smile on his face. “Good fucking girl. Taking me so well in the little mouth of yours,” he mumbles in desire and begins to rock his hips into you. Both of his hands tangle in your hair tightly to hold your head in place. Strings of saliva start to drip down your chin. Surely, some of his precum was a part of it, not that you minded at all. His cock hits the back of your throat in slow and steady thrusts that make him groan lowly. The sight of him disappearing and reappearing from your mouth almost makes him lose his shit, but he holds back. He's not cumming until he's fucking that cunt of yours and filling you to the brim. 

His pace quickens suddenly and you're fighting back the urges to gag once more. Wet gurgles leaving you. They sound disgusting but he fucking loves them. He can't take it anymore, his pace quickening once again and his grip on your hair tightens. “Fuck, doll… doing such a good job,” his eyes fall shut again and his head tilts back to moan towards the ceiling. At that point, you start grinding yourself down into the seam of your panties, moaning around him softly as the tears start to fall down your cheeks. You can already feel your arousal dripping onto the wood floor below you. You're too focused on his massive dick in your mouth pounding your throat relentlessly. 

Mingi thrusts into your mouth one last time and holds himself there, silent and still as he brings his head back down. Feigning mock sympathy, he moves one of his hands from your hair to wipe the shed tears from your face. “Aww… you're crying? Am I too big for you, sweetheart? You poor thing.” He pulls himself out and lets go of your hair. Taking in breaths as you stare up at him, you lick your lips to get the precum he has spread earlier around the rim of your mouth. “Get up.” He demands while stroking himself in front of your face, almost tantalizing. You listen, standing from the floor and facing him to wait for his next instruction. God, you feel helpless, but dammit all to hell if it doesn't feel good.

He doesn't waste much time shoving your panties down to the floor to pool around your ankles. Strings of your arousal detach from your underwear and stick to your inner thighs. He licks his lips at the side, ready to taste every last inch of you until you're screaming for him to stop. “Sit on the desk, doll. Legs spread for me,” he gently nudges you backward with his hands on your hips, sitting you down on the edge of the desk before you could even think about moving. Your legs spread at his demand and you watch him sink to his knees between your thighs. He sighs deeply, a sound coming from the back of his throat. Almost like a growl. It makes your insides turn with desire and your knees fall over even more for him with a soft whimper. “Please, baby…” you whisper as if your pleas will do anything to quicken the process. 

“Patience, sweetheart. You know how long I've wanted this. I'm taking my time with you,” he says with a tsk and smooths his hands over your legs. Starting at your calves, then the tops of your thighs, and finally massaging the insides of them, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt. “So wet… and such a pretty sight,” the fingers of one hand gather some of your arousal and he licks them clean, humming in delight before pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. Your head tilts back abruptly and a sharp moan leaves you. Fuck, his hands are so big. You know you've said that before, but they truly are nothing compared to your hands. His eyes never leave the sight of your folds, pink and beautiful. Soaking from your juices and teasing him by clenching around nothing. 

His thumb circles over your nub, watching as more of you seeps out of that tight little hole he's gonna destroy. Your moans gradually get louder with each passing second. More needy, whiny. More for him to just fuck you already. You bring your head back down and look at him. Shit he looks pussy drunk and he hasn't even done much of anything yet. But as soon as you think that, he dives in, licking a long stripe up from your entrance to the clit he's been teasing with his thumb. Again, he hums in delight and his eyes fall shut. Your head gets tossed back once more and your arms threaten to give out from holding your weight behind you.

“So sweet, love… Fuck you taste good, mm,” he mumbles against you and the hum he does sends a shiver throughout your entire body. Whimpering with every flick of his tongue. His hands wrap the underneath of your thighs and hoist them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him in the process. He's hungry, and he's about to have himself a nice feast. Mingi doesn't hold back. His tongue delves into your entrance and licks wherever he can. His hands are gripping your thighs so hard it'll leave bruises till next week. Every so often, his nose brushes against your clit and you let out a cry of pleasure, fighting to bring your hands down to tangle in his hair. 

“You wanna cum in my mouth, doll? Wanna drown me with your cum? Huh?” he mumbles again and brings his hand back down to play with your clit as his attack on your hole continues relentlessly. You nod, but you know he can't see you. It takes everything in you to clear your mind long enough to moan out a response. “Yes… fuck- yes, baby… please let me cum in your mouth,” the words send his cock twitching against his stomach and he presses his face further, smirking against you devilishly.

Then he pulls away, stands abruptly, and rips your shirt open. Your whine of protest from the lack of an orgasm soon turns to a gasp of surprise once your chest is exposed to him. Buttons fly everywhere and tumble to the floor as his lips make contact with your chest. His hands pull your shirt down your shoulders and then reach behind you to unclasp your bra, which he does in one swift move that has your pussy fluttering. Yanking the straps down, he palms your right breast and bites along the top of your other one. “Gorgeous, love… fucking beautiful,” They're all he's ever imagined. Round, full, perky. Everything he's dreamed of. He wants to slide his cock between the valley of them, but that'll be for another day. He's too impatient for that right now. He steps closer, his cock sliding against your thigh before settling on your stomach as his lips move up to the side of your neck. Sucking and pulling at the skin desperately as if he wants to eat you alive. Which you're sure he can if he truly wants to. You wouldn't be opposed, that's for damn sure.

His hips move slowly, grinding his hardness against your thigh and spreading your legs with his own. Groans leaving him with each passing second, mixing with your whimpers of pleasure as your eyes fall shut. His large, calloused hands travel everywhere they possibly can. You claw at him, his shoulders and back and neck. Desperate for him to give up on teasing and taking his time instead of ravishing you within an inch of your life. “Mingi.. P-please,”

It's like the restraint in him finally breaks and he's capturing your lips with his again. A hand snaking down to toy with you for a moment, gathering your juices before hes stroking his cock with it. Then his tip is prodding at your entrance. “You sure you can handle this, sweet pea?” He breaks the kiss to mutter those words, dark and gruff as his lips trail over your cheek. The hand not holding himself at your entrance travels up the side of your body to gently wrap around your throat. Not too much pressure, but enough to make your walls flutter. 

“Y-yes.. Please, Mingi. I- i can handle it,” you respond, shaky and quiet but confident in your ability to take him nonetheless. He doesn’t waste much time after that and slowly sinks himself into the hilt with a deep groan. It almost sounds like a growl. Of course, it’s paired with a satisfied moan from yourself once you’re finally able to feel him like this. His lips attach to your neck again in a sorry attempt to muffle the soft grunts and gasps he’s letting out from how tight you are. You’re too busy clinging to his shoulders trying to get used to his size. “Tight as hell, sweetheart.. You alright?” He breathes the words out between his teeth, willing himself to stay still so he doesnt hurt you too much. You’re able to nod, subtly, but it's there. He takes that as permission to move, pulling back until just his tip remains inside, then pushes back in with a groan. It harmonizes with the breathy moan you let out. 

That’s how he starts. Slow, steady. Full, deep strokes that make you feel every vein carved into his dick. All while his huffs of air and grunts resonate right next to your ear. Every once in a while punctuated by a kiss or nip on your shoulder. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper at the same time. “M-Mingi… so good…” You whimper the words, digging your nails into his shoulders before moving to his back. A hand delving into his hair yet again to both tangle in the strands and grip at his scalp. He responds with a sharp thrust, pulling his head back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Yeah? Feels good, doll?” His pace quickens just enough to make the desk start hitting the wall. A cocky grin taking his face as he watches how fucked out you become. “So pretty… Gonna fuck you dumb, okay? Just sit here and be a good girl for me.” 

He pulls out, hoisting your legs over his forearms so they sit in the crook of your knee. His cock plunging itself back in as he straightens himself up to get a better range of movement. At this point, you're barely on the desk. Ass hanging off and basically hovering as he plunders into you. He’s out of reach now so you struggle to grab onto something, anything. The papers on my desk, a stapler. Eventually, I opt for the wall behind me and arch my back from the wood. “R-right there..please right- ahh my god,” He’s hitting your g-spot so perfectly you start seeing stars. He grunts, tightening his grip on your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. “Gonna come for me? Huh? Gonna cream all over this dick, pretty girl?” 

If the words weren’t enough already, the name was a cherry on top. You nod, frantically, as a hand comes down to press against his pelvis. Not to push him away, but to touch him somewhere at least. The tears that rolled down your cheeks while his dick was in your mouth now rolls down as his dick rearranges your pretty little cunt. You were so close, so very close. “M-min..close,” The words come out so quietly, he almost misses them. But when they register, he doubles down his efforts. One of his hands coming between your thighs to play with your highly oversensitive clit to help send you over the edge. The desk hitting the wall in a steady and quick rhythm as he works you up. “C’mon, pretty… Soak my cock. Wanna see it glistening before I fill this pussy up, uh? Wanna watch? C’mere,” His other hand moves to grip the back of your neck, pulling you up just enough to watch where his cock disappears and reappears from inside you. His words, his fingers, his pace. Him. Fuck, you’re surprised you lasted this long. Another pitiful sob leaves you as you watch your arousal splash against his thighs. “You see that? See how good you take me, baby? Can’t believe you made me wait this long for such a perfect fucking pussy, mm.”

And that was it. It was like everything inside you just ruptures and you come with a guttural moan of his name. Your back arching into him and nails digging into where they stay on his stomach and the wall. Surprisingly enough, you manage to rip through the wallpaper in the office. A worry for another day though. You’re too busy seeing the gates of heaven while your orgasm washes over you, eyes clenched shut while your body stays rigid in bliss. His fingers on your clit not relenting until he sees the trembles in your thighs die down. His hips slowly coaxing you out of your high before he starts to work himself. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you meet his gaze and see the smirk sitting on his face. “Just as I thought… pretty,” He mutters before he gives a few sloppy thrusts, and empties himself inside with a satisfied groan, almost mistaken for a whimper if you listened close enough. He stills, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as his arms bring your legs down. His arms instead wrap around your waist to pull you closer. Your breaths resonating in the small room as you both come down from the high of everything. 

Mingi’s first to pull away, pressing gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck until he's right next to your ear. “For the record, I ain’t letting another man lay a hand on you, darlin’,” His hands tighten around your waist. Calloused fingertips dancing along the soft exposed skin of your hips and back. You smile against where your head rests on his collarbone. “For the record, I ain’t letting another woman lay a hand on you, cowboy."

okay.. so whatd you think?

[entitled-fangirl]

I’m procrastinating doing my hmwk that’s due today so lemme get another poll here

These are all from my current drafts :) (Little Doe series not included hehe)

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Virgin!Battinson x girlfriend!reader (SMUT)

Bruce's nerves were at an all time high. You'd think his hand would crush your thigh with the grip he has on you. His other hand is on the steering wheel as he drives.

"You look dashing," you say to try to ease the tension. And you mean it. You rarely get to see him in a suit anymore.

He squeezes your leg as a 'thank you.' 

It takes a while, but you finally get a verbal response. "You look-" he hesitates, deciding what to say, "gorgeous."

He'd always liked that dress on you. Simple. Black. 

"I know you're only going to try to find the Riddler, but please, please avoid confrontation."

By the way his top lip quirked up, you know he's amused. "I'll do my best."

"Bruce," you scold. "You're not Batman today. Not right now."

He sighs and lets his smile fall. "Alright." He agrees, but you both now that's far from the truth.

2. Jace x wife!reader (FLUFF maybe light smut)

He smiled, the toothy one that made her head go fuzzy. The one where he was happy beyond reason. "What?" He asked as his head tilted.

She gave him a little shrug, going back to choosing dresses.

"No," he laughed, pressing his chest against her back and peeking over her shoulder. "Tell me." His hands ran up her sides, pulling giggles from her lips.

"Jace!" She laughed, attempting to pry his fingers away to no avail. He tugged her further against him, and wrapped his arms strongly around her waist. He was insistent on getting an answer.

"My pretty wife has decided to make me ask what she was thinking. It's awful," he teased. "I'd rather she just say it."

It felt taboo for a husband and wife to have such fun together. But the two were beyond tired of 'taboo' things. Targaryens often walked the line of acceptable and taboo, more wandering towards the latter.

"I think of you as handsome, is all," she giggled. "Am I not allowed to?"

"How caring," he mused. "My wife. Melting over the sight of me in riding gear."

3. Cregan Stark x ill wife!reader (ANGST and FLUFF)

His hand soothed over her forehead, brushing the hair away. Sweat had built up on her skin, gleaming in the light. "You should rest, my love. I can manage one meal without you."

"No," she reassured. "I feel fine."

She didn't feel fine. She hadn't felt fine for a few days now. She had waken up tired and had to focus on holding her head up at the table as they supped now.

"Wife," he softly reprimanded. "Your eyes are closing as we speak."

"'S just a chill. It will pass."

He sighed. He looked to the nearest servant. "Have this brought to our chambers, yes?"

She wanted to fight against his words but truthfully she was relieved. 

"Get up," he chided. "C'mon." He offered his hands to her as he stepped around her chair. 

…

That was yesterday, and now the morning had come. Cregan was worried. 

4. Ned Stark x second wife!reader (FLUFF & ANGST)

She worried that maybe they hated her.

The Stark children hated her.

Ned's hand brushed up and down her spine as she laid on his chest. He noticed her overactive mind. "You alright?" He asked softly.

She hummed, tucking her face into his neck.

He chuckled at the tickling breath. "Don't do that."

She let out a laugh too and rolled onto her back. "It's just… the children."

His brows furrowed immediately, her words catching his full attention. "What of them?"

"We've been married for a few moons now. I just… I haven't connected to them as well as I'd hoped."

She'd connected quite well to Jon, Sansa as well. Bran and Rickon were still young boys and connecting to them had been easy. 

It was Robb and Arya.

Robb had been close to his mother until her death, and Y/n knew she could never replace that relationship. But he hadn't even given her a chance. It hurt.

As for Arya, she had no idea what to do.

So now, in bed, she ranted all of that to Ned. He listened intently, keeping her close as she neared crying over everything.

5. (AK) Jason Todd x past childhood love!reader (ANGST)

"Come look at this," Bruce ordered.

Y/n pushed off the desk, her chair rolling over to Bruce. "Wh-" Her voice trailed off.

One the large screen sat a picture of Jason. Her Jason. It had been years, and still every picture made her eyes water. 

She remembered that night.

"Jason, don't do this."

He huffed and spun around to her. "What else should I do? Sit around while he blackmails my mom?"

"Just stay here," she pleaded, following him through Wayne Manor. "When you leave, I'll just alert Bruce."

"Do not," he warned.

................................................

[muiitoloko]

Needs

Summary: You are there to meet all of his needs.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut.

Author's Notes: Well, folks, brace yourselves for another rollercoaster ride of a story! I gotta admit, this one had me wrestling with writer's block like nobody's business. Every word felt like it was mocking me from the page! But then, lo and behold, I stumbled upon some Karl gifs on Tumblr and bam! Inspiration struck like lightning! 🌩️ Had to spill some ink on Karl, no question about it. Here's hoping I did justice to the enigma that is Karl in this one-shot! Oh, and can we talk about Charlotte? Let's just say, I'm not exactly her biggest fan... Am I alone in this? 🤔

Also read on Ao3

As Karl stood by the window, his gaze fixed on you, the maid, playing with Otto in the garden, a myriad of conflicting emotions swirled within him. It had been two weeks since Charlotte had left with Friedrich, leaving Karl and Otto behind. Two weeks since Karl had managed to recover from his illness, but the ache of missing his wife lingered like a ghost haunting the halls of his home.

As he watched you, a simple maid with a beauty that had gone unnoticed until now, Karl couldn't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. He missed the warmth of a woman, especially when he lay alone in his bed at night, the cold sheets a constant reminder of his loneliness.

Over time, Karl began to notice things about you that he hadn't paid attention to before. He saw your beauty, simple yet captivating, like someone from his own class. He observed the dedication with which you carried out your duties, the tender care you showed towards Otto, his beloved son.

And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, Karl's gaze fell upon the neckline of your dress, the delicate curve of your breasts teasingly visible beneath the fabric. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, his pulse quickening with desire as he imagined what it would be like to hold them, to suckle at them with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Karl closed his eyes, cursing himself as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He missed the warmth of a woman, the softness of her skin against his, and there you were, a woman so close and yet so far away.

He wondered if you were still a virgin, if you had ever felt the heat of a man's touch. But it didn't matter, did it? Because Karl would be better than any man you had ever known, much better. He would treat you with the respect and adoration you deserved, fulfilling every desire and whim with a passion that knew no bounds.

But then, with a shake of his head, Karl opened his eyes, the realization of what he was thinking hitting him like a ton of bricks. What the hell was he doing? He was a married man, a father, and you were just a maid, beneath him in every sense of the word.

With a sense of self-disgust, Karl moved away from the window and strode purposefully towards the door, determined to put an end to these foolish thoughts once and for all. He swung the door open, interrupting your play with Otto as he ushered you both inside.

"Enough playing for now, Otto," Karl said, his voice firm as he directed his son towards the bathroom. "It's time to wash up and get ready for dinner."

Otto visibly wilted at the dismissal, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly obeyed his father's command. You, on the other hand, bowed respectfully, apologizing for the interruption and offering to help with dinner preparations.

But Karl ignored your offer, his gaze distant as he instructed Otto to hurry along. "We will have dinner promptly at seven," he said, his tone clipped. "Make sure everything is ready by then."

You nodded obediently, bowing once again before turning to leave the room. As you passed Karl, he couldn't help but notice the way your dress clung to your curves, the sway of your hips as you walked away sending a shiver of desire down his spine.

But Karl quickly pushed aside his wayward thoughts, his sense of propriety kicking in as he returned to his office at home. Taking a tissue from his pocket, he pressed it against his mouth while coughing, the sound muffled against the fabric as he tried to quell the persistent ache in his chest.

"Damn foolish thoughts," Karl muttered to himself, his voice tinged with self-loathing as he leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with thoughts of you. "I must focus on my work, on providing for my family. That is all that matters."

But even as he tried to push you out of his mind, Karl couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered like a shadow in the depths of his soul. And as he sat there, alone in his office, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been if things had been different.

As Karl sank into the warm water of the bathtub, he closed his eyes, trying to push aside the intrusive thoughts that plagued his mind. The sound of the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub provided a soothing backdrop, but even the comforting embrace of the warm water couldn't chase away the persistent ache of longing that gnawed at his chest.

You, the maid, moved quietly around the bathroom, preparing to assist Karl with his bath as you had done countless times before. But today was different. Today, Karl couldn't help but notice the way your gentle hands moved with practiced ease, the way your touch sent shivers of desire coursing through his veins.

As you approached the tub, Karl tried to suppress the rising tide of arousal that threatened to consume him. He had never given your presence a second thought before, but now, he couldn't even relax in your presence without feeling the stirrings of desire.

Desperate for some relief from his torment, Karl toyed with the idea of visiting some prostitutes, hoping that the physical release would help to banish the thoughts of you from his mind. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't bring himself to act on it, the image of your face haunting him like a specter in the darkness.

You began to wash Karl's back, your touch gentle and soothing against his skin. But as your hands moved lower, tracing the curve of his spine with feather-light touches, Karl couldn't help but tense up, the warmth of your touch sending shockwaves of desire coursing through his veins.

He tried to ignore the sensation, to focus on anything other than the way your touch made him feel. But when you passed into his arms, your body pressed tantalizingly close to his, Karl couldn't help but look at you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment too long before he quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You noticed his gaze and gave him a small smile, your eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Are you feeling better, Herr Hoffmeister?" you asked respectfully, your voice soft and gentle as you continued to bathe him.

Karl nodded, his voice hoarse with emotion as he admitted, "Yes, I am feeling much better, thank you. Still coughing a lot, but not as bad as before."

You smiled again, genuine happiness shining in your eyes as you said, "I'm glad to hear that, Herr Hoffmeister. You had us all worried there for a while."

The two of you fell silent once again, the only sound in the room the gentle splashing of water as you continued to bathe Karl. And as he lay there, enveloped in the warmth of the water and the comfort of your presence, Karl couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and take you in his arms, to hold you close and never let go. But he quickly pushed aside those thoughts, burying them deep within his heart as he focused on the task at hand, determined to put an end to these foolish fantasies once and for all.

As the silence stretched between you and Karl, he finally broke it with a question, his voice cutting through the quietude of the bathroom. "How long have you been serving me, uh... what was your name again?" he asked, his tone slightly hesitant as he tried to recall your name.

You smiled softly, accustomed to his occasional forgetfulness. "It's [Your Name], Herr Hoffmeister," you replied respectfully, your voice gentle as you continued to bathe him. "And I've been serving you for ten years now, since I was eighteen."

Karl's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your response. "Ten years?" he repeated, genuine curiosity shining in his gray eyes. "That's quite a long time. I must admit, I hadn't realized it had been so long."

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you continued to wash his back. "Yes, time flies, doesn't it?" you remarked, your voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "It feels like just yesterday that I first started working here."

Karl fell silent for a moment, lost in thought as he processed your words. Then, with a curious glint in his eyes, he asked, "Do you have a husband? Or perhaps a fiancé? Children, maybe?"

You shook your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks at the mention of marriage and children. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never had many expectations about marriage or children. My life has always been here, serving you and taking care of Otto."

Karl's curiosity seemed to be piqued by your response, his gaze lingering on your face as he asked, "Do you have any family, then? Siblings, perhaps? Do your parents live nearby?"

You smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in your eyes as you spoke. "I don't know, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "I was orphaned at a young age, raised by the nuns at the orphanage."

Karl's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine sympathy as he processed the information. "You're an orphan?" he asked softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Do you... do you know who your parents are?"

You nod solemnly in response to Karl's question, the memories of your past flooding back with painful clarity. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply quietly, your voice tinged with sadness. "My mother was a prostitute, and my father... well, from what the nuns told me, he was a judge from England named Turpin."

Karl's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine curiosity as he processes the information. "Turpin?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief. "The judge from England? How did...?"

You nod, cutting him off before he can finish his question. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper. "He was traveling through Germany and ended up getting my mother pregnant. But he made it clear to her that he didn't want me, and he returned to England, leaving my mother alone to raise me."

A pang of sadness comes over you as you imagine the struggles your mother faced, the possible loneliness and hardships she must have endured. Only she could not escape the cruel hand that fate imposed on her and ended up dying in childbirth, leaving you alone and an orphan.

Karl's expression softens with sympathy as he listens to your story, his gray eyes filled with compassion. "I'm so sorry, [Your Name]," he murmurs, his voice gentle but filled with genuine regret. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you."

You offer him a small smile, though there is a hint of sadness in your eyes as you continue to speak. "It was," you admit quietly. "But I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the nuns at the orphanage, where I was raised until I turned eighteen."

His curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, "Have you ever tried to contact your father?"

You nodded quietly, a hint of sadness flickering across your features as you recalled the memories of your youth. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied softly. "When I was young, I sent a letter to him, hoping to establish some connection. But I heard nothing back. Later, I learned that he had married a peasant girl and started a family of his own."

Karl's expression darkened at the mention of your father's lack of response, a flicker of anger flashing in his gray eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "It must have been difficult for you, reaching out only to be met with silence."

You nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It was, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I let it go. I lived in the orphanage until I turned eighteen, and then I came here, looking for a job. The old butler spoke to you on my behalf, and you graciously allowed me to become one of the housemaids."

Karl listened intently to your words, his gaze drifting away for a moment as he processed the information. But when he turned back to you, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he asked, "And you've been serving me ever since?"

You nodded, a sense of pride evident in your voice as you replied, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. It has been an honor to serve you and to take care of all your needs."

Karl looked away, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions as he questioned whether your loyalty was truly genuine. "But would you be willing to take care of me, of all my needs?" he asked hesitantly, his baritone voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

You frowned slightly at his question, unsure of what he was getting at. "Yes, of course, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied earnestly, your voice filled with determination. "I am here to serve you in any way that I can."

Karl's gaze softened at your response, and he reached out to take your hand in his, pressing it gently against his chest as he searched your eyes for reassurance. "All my needs?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blushed at the implication of his words, understanding what he was asking. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked away briefly before meeting his eyes once again, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yes, all your needs," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.

Karl's expression softens further, his gray eyes filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability as he pulls you closer by the wrist he's holding. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he brings his other hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

His voice falls into a low, husky cadence as he asks you to answer to his need now. "Do you mean that, [Your Name]?" Karl's voice is barely above a whisper, filled with a desperate hopefulness.

You meet his gaze, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. His vulnerability surprises you, but there's something in his eyes that draws you closer, despite the implications of his request. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply softly, your voice trembling slightly. "I am here to serve you."

Karl's grip tightens slightly on your chin, his gaze intense as he leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Then kiss me," he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper against your lips.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. But then, with a newfound resolve, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as you press your lips against his.

At first, the kiss is tentative, hesitant, as if both of you are unsure of what to expect. But then, as the seconds pass, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Karl's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further.

The warmth of his lips against yours sends a shiver of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a fire deep within your soul. You respond eagerly, your hands moving to tangle in his gray hair as you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.

For a brief, fleeting moment, nothing else exists except the two of you, lost in each other's embrace. And as you pull away, breathless and flushed with desire, you realize that nothing will ever be the same again.

Karl's gray eyes are dark with longing as he admits in a husky voice, "I want to take you to my bed today, [Your Name]."

Your heart races at his words, your cheeks flushing with excitement as you nod eagerly, your desire mirroring his own. Karl's touch is surprisingly gentle as he caresses your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he studies your expression.

In a moment of vulnerability, Karl's gaze drifts to your lips before he gathers his courage to ask, "Are you... a virgin, [Your Name]?" His voice is soft, tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he waits for your response.

You blush at the question, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as you shake your head. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry."

But Karl's response surprises you. Instead of expressing disappointment or disapproval, he simply smiles and says, "It's alright, [Your Name]. I don't mind." His words are filled with understanding and acceptance, easing the tension that had been building inside you.

Then, with a note of anticipation in his voice, Karl questions, "Do you... want this? Want to go to bed with me, [Your Name]?" His eyes search yours, longing to hear your answer, to know that you desire him as much as he desires you.

You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, the fire of desire burning brightly in your eyes as you confess, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. For a long time, I've thought about it, imagined what it would be like to be taken care of by you, just as you took care of Mrs. Hoffmeister."

Karl's heart swells with a mixture of desire and affection at your words, his hands trembling slightly as he lets go of your face and rises from the bathtub. Moving away from you, he looks momentarily irritated as he says, "Don't mention her, Fräulein. I don't want to think about the fact that she left me for another man."

You nod apologetically, understanding the pain that Karl must be feeling at the mention of his estranged wife. As Karl dries himself off with a towel, he orders you to follow him, and you do so obediently as he leaves the bathroom and heads towards the bedroom.

The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you enter the bedroom together, the tension between you palpable as you both prepare to take the next step in your relationship. His gaze lingers on your simple maid's dress, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that sends a shiver of desire down his spine. He can feel his pulse quicken with each passing moment, his arousal evident as he takes in the sight of you standing before him.

With a husky voice, Karl murmurs, "Fräulein, come closer." His words are a command, filled with a raw intensity that leaves no room for hesitation. You obey without question, stepping closer to him until you're standing just inches apart, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

Karl's hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His lips are demanding, hungry, as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

And as Karl's lips claim yours in a passionate kiss, you feel the unmistakable prickle of his mustache against your skin, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. You relish the sensation, savoring the feeling of his rough facial hair against your soft lips, a tantalizing reminder of his masculinity.

But as the kiss deepens, you break away, holding his shoulders firmly as you gaze into his gray eyes with unwavering determination. His naked form stands before you, still slightly damp from the bath you had given him earlier, his baritone voice filled with desire as he watches you intently.

With deliberate movements, you caress his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away beneath your touch. Your hands glide down to his chest, tracing the contours of his muscular frame before slowly falling to your knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

Karl's breath catches in his throat as he watches you, anticipation evident in his gaze as he waits for you to take the next step. His half-hard cock twitches with desire, but you deliberately ignore it for now, focusing instead on pleasing him in other ways.

As you settle at his feet, your hands trail up his thighs, the fabric of your simple maid's dress brushing against his skin. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his arousal evident as you continue to tease him with your touch.

With a coy smile, you look up at him, your eyes shining with mischief as you ask in a husky voice, "Herr Hoffmeister, may I take care of your needs?" Your words are filled with promise, a hint of anticipation laced with desire as you await his response.

Karl's breath hitches at your question, his gray eyes dark with desire as he nods eagerly, his voice thick with arousal. "Yes, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice husky with need. "Please, take care of me."

With a wicked grin, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as you trail kisses along his flesh. You can feel his pulse quicken beneath your touch, his breath coming in shallow gasps as you tease him mercilessly.

But you're not done yet. With a slow, deliberate motion, you run your hands up his thighs, bypassing his aching cock as you reach for his hips. Karl's groan of frustration only spurs you on, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you revel in the power you hold over him.

With practiced ease, you massage his hips, your fingers digging into his flesh as you work to relieve the tension that has built up within him. Karl's grip tightens on your shoulders, his baritone voice filled with desperation as he pleads with you to give him what he craves.

The hunger in Karl's gray eyes grows more intense, his baritone voice thick with desire as he watches you with unabashed longing. The sight of you, dressed in your simple maid's attire, on your knees before him ignites a fire within him, driving him to the brink of madness with need.

But even in this vulnerable position, it's clear to karl that you hold all the power. Your wicked grin, your teasing touch, they all serve to remind him that it's you who dictates the pace, you who decides how far this will go.

And yet, Karl can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of surrendering control to you. With a low growl of desire, he reaches down to grasp your chin, his thumb brushing lightly against your lips as he murmurs in a husky voice, "You have me completely at your mercy, Fräulein. But I warn you, I'm not easily tamed."

Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you meet his gaze, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you reply, "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Herr Hoffmeister. But don't worry, I like a challenge."

With that, you lean forward, your lips trailing a path of fire along his inner thigh as you inch closer and closer to your ultimate goal. Karl's pulse quickens with each teasing touch, his heart racing with anticipation as he feels your lips inch closer to his aching cock.

And then, finally, your lips closed around him, your mouth hot and wet as you took him deep within your throat. Karl's head fell back in ecstasy, his gray eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your touch.

With each expert flick of your tongue, each gentle suckle of your lips, Karl felt himself spiraling further and further into a blissful haze of desire. Your mouth was pure heaven, a sinful delight that threatened to consume him whole as you worked your magic on him.

But Karl wasn't content to simply be a passive participant in this dance of pleasure. With a low growl of desire, he reached down to grasp your hair, guiding you with gentle but firm pressure as he set the rhythm of your movements.

The feeling of your lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling and dancing with wicked intent, was enough to drive Karl to the edge of sanity. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort to contain the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him.

As he felt himself nearing the brink of ecstasy, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for more as he instructed you to disrobe and recline upon the bed. Eager to feel him within you, you wasted no time in complying with his command, swiftly removing your garments and lying back upon the bed, your body pulsating with anticipation.

Karl watched intently as you shed each piece of clothing, his gray eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your naked form. He admired the way your curves beckoned to him, the softness of your skin inviting him to explore every inch of your body.

Once you were fully undressed and lying on the bed, Karl moved closer, his hands trembling with need as he reached down to caress his own throbbing cock. His baritone voice was thick with desire as he spoke, his words sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Now, meine liebe, I want to feel you around me," Karl murmured, his voice husky with lust as he positioned himself between your legs. "But first, I need to prepare you for me."

With a wicked grin, Karl leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before trailing kisses down your neck and chest, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. As he reached your breasts, he took each nipple into his mouth in turn, sucking and nibbling on them with fervent desire.

Your breath hitched at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his gray hair as you arched your back in pleasure. Karl's mustache tickled your skin, adding to the intensity of the sensation as he lavished attention on your sensitive peaks.

But Karl wasn't content to stop there. With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he continued his journey southward, trailing kisses along your stomach and thighs until he reached the apex of your desire. His tongue flicked out to taste your wetness, and you moaned in ecstasy as he teased you with his expert ministrations.

"Oh, Herr Hoffmeister," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as he worshipped you with his mouth. "Please, I need you inside me."

Karl removes his mouth from your pussy, and a soft whimper escapes your lips, craving more of his touch. He doesn't disappoint, his thick fingers soon replacing his tongue as he stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. With practiced ease, he slides two fingers inside you, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Karl," you moan softly, obeying his command to call him by his first name. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears, fueling his desire even further. But he reminds you to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake his son with your passionate cries.

You nod eagerly, squirming on the bed as Karl's fingers explore every inch of you, driving you wild with need. His baritone voice washes over you like a wave of heat as he murmurs, "That's it, meine liebe. Moan my name for me, but remember, quietly."

With each thrust of his fingers, you can't help but moan, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity. "Karl," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper as you ride his fingers, craving more of him with each passing moment.

Karl's gray hair brushes against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his mustache tickling your skin as his tongue dances with yours. The sensation sends a jolt of desire straight to your core, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each passing second.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, Karl finally withdraws his fingers, his gaze filled with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. With a wicked grin, he whispers, "Are you ready for me, meine liebe? Ready to take all of me?"

You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as Karl enters you with a single, powerful thrust. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying whirlwind.

"Karl," you cry out, unable to contain your passion as he moves inside you, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you remember his warning and keep your voice low, your moans muffled against his shoulder as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

With each thrust, Karl's baritone voice fills the room, urging you on with whispered words of encouragement. "That's it, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take all of me. Feel me deep inside you."

You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you ride the wave of pleasure together. And as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy, you cry out his name one last time, your voice filled with pure bliss as you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

As Karl continues thrusting, chasing his own climax, you writhe beneath him, your body aching with pleasure as you cling to him desperately. His baritone voice fills the room with a chorus of moans and groans, the sound of his pleasure mingling with your own as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy together.

With a hoarse moan, Karl finally pulls out, his seed spilling onto your belly in a hot, sticky mess. For a moment, he stays on top of you, his body trapping you against the mattress as he revels in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Then, with a contented sigh, he rolls off of you and lies next to you with a satisfied smile on his lips.

You lie side by side, panting and spent, your bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. But despite the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you as you bask in the warmth of Karl's embrace.

Feeling a surge of affection, you crawl towards him, pressing your naked body against his as you lay your head on his chest. Karl's arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you close as he presses a tender kiss to your head.

With a contented sigh, you ask in a soft voice, "Did I manage to meet your needs, Karl?"

Karl's gray eyes sparkle with affection as he gazes down at you, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. "You exceeded my every expectation."

Feeling emboldened by his words, you trail a hand down his chest, teasing him with feather-light touches as you whisper in his ear, "Is there anything else you desire, Karl? Anything at all?"

Karl's breath hitches at your touch, his pulse quickening with desire as he meets your gaze with unwavering intensity. "Oh, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. "I desire nothing more than to lose myself in you, body and soul."

With that, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hunger evident as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more. And as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch once again, you realize that this is only the beginning of your journey together.

Translation:

"meine liebe" - my love

"Herr Hoffmeister" - Mr. Hoffmeister

"Fräulein" - Miss (or young woman, typically used to address an unmarried woman)

[joan-deactivated20230204]

if i was in medieval times id love to be one of those viziers who whispers into the kings ear that he should raise taxes on the peasantry and behead his most loyal knight on suspected treason. id be lounging next to the throne in my most opulent robes and whenever someone came to the king and said something i didnt like id turn to the king and say "dont trouble yourself with this petty fool, my liege. guards, take this man away" and id whisk him away to my dungeons beneath the castle that ofc the king doesn't know about. and one day the king would fall mysteriously ill (due to a potion of my own devising of course but no one needs to know that 🤭) and the prince (whom i had had sent away on a quest long ago in the hopes that he would be killed) would storm into the throne room one stormy night after many years gone, demanding to see his father, only to find ME on the throne in even more opulent robes delivering the sad news that his dear old father had taken ill 🥺 and the prince would fly into a rage but i would calm him and offer him quarters to rest in. then i would retreat to my dungeon and deliver a dramatic monologue to my prisoners about how the prince was supposed to be killed and now he would ruin my plans by becoming the successor to the throne when the king passed, unless the prince were to fall under a strange illness as well... so i would send a rider to fetch the ingredients to concoct another potion, which would take 1 week, and stall the princes wrath until then. but over that week id realize that the prince and i actually have a lot in common, like he also really enjoys a good bit of scheming and has knowledge of potions, and id offer to let him come to my laboratory and learn a bit morez and while we're poring over one of my tomes together, our fingers would touch and we'd pause and look into each others eyes, both instinctively recognizing the connection between us but knowing that neither could voice it given the improprieties of a relationship between vizier and royalty. so we would suffer in our silence, stealing glances and passing touches, a hand on the hip here or a knowing smile there. and after a week my rider would return with the ingredients for the potion, but now id be tormented by my forbidden love for the prince, and would not be able to bring myself to poison him. then that night he would sneak into my quarters, unable to restrain himself, telling me that he needs me and that he doesnt care what anyone says, and i throw caution to the wind and decide yes, i shall forsake it all for love! but then hed notice the potion ingredients on my desk, and being something of a smart cookie who had by now been taught thoroughly in the art of potion making, he would see that it was indeed a poison, in fact, a poison that induces the same symptoms of prolonged agony as his father the king is currently experiencing. his trust in me would be shattered, even as id try to explain that i have changed my ways, and consumed by grief for his father and his lost love, he would ride back out into the night, realizing that this world of court plots and schemes would never be for him, and that the greatest kindness i had done him was sending him away to live as his own man. filled with regret for my ways, i would return to the throne room in my most opulent robe yet, and consume the potion, ending my own life in the most dramatic way i can

[areolni]

Here you go! It was too much to fit in the replies 😅

Arthur suffers from shoulder and back pains from having to act all proper for hours, and upon noticing this, Shadow waits until it’s just them to take his cloak off and start massaging the pain and stiffness away. Arthur absolutely loves it and has even fallen asleep once or twice.

Similarly, there have been a few times when Arthur has skipped a meal or stayed up late doing paperwork. Shadow dislikes this and usually just walks in, picks him up, and leaves. Arthur can argue all he wants, he ain’t getting out of this. And to make sure he doesn’t leave, Shadow will lay on the bed and hold him close.

Shadow follows the Sidewalk Rule, and if you don’t know what that is, it’s where you place yourself between a loved one and the road while on the sidewalk incase anything happens.

Arthur can and will get Shadow his own lavender garden.

Shadow learning how to fight with a spear after Arthur saw him using Chaos Spear.

Shadow stargazes often, so they absolutely have stargazing dates! Shadow usually finds the most beautiful spots and can somehow predict (saying this from Arthur’s perspective when I say “somehow predict”) when and where a cosmic event will occur. This has led to Shadow asking Arthur to go to sleep early or clear a part of the day so he can teleport them both to see it.

So far, Shadow has shown him the northern lights, a meteor shower, and two comets passing overhead. He also seems to know a lot about the cosmos (lmao, he’s about to destroy Arthur’s perspective of reality), and even said something that hinted that he once lived there, but he never elaborated. Arthur saw a sliver of pain in Shadow’s eyes when he asked about it, so he never asked again.

Still, Shadow’s strange and beautiful connection with the night sky led to Arthur calling him “My star” a few times. Shadow says it’s a silly nickname, but Arthur can see that smile and blush, you’re not slick, Shadow-

Shadow being a healer with a reputation for his strange methods and being brought into Camelot when Arthur is ill.

Shadow takes Arthur for rides on his motorcycle and Arthur is enthralled by it. Similarly, Arthur holding a gun wondering what it is, and Shadow freaks out when he sees him holding it and snatches it from him.

They help each other through panic attacks, your honor. Arthur has a space in the library he goes to when he needs to escape from everything and showed it to Shadow after his panic attack during a thunderstorm.

Arthur tries a coffee bean since Shadow loves them so much and immediately makes a disgusted noise. Before he gets the chance to right himself and not look rude or improper, Shadow laughs at him.

As strong as he is, Shadow is weak for cuddles and being held. You can bet anything Arthur enjoyed being the big spoon to the fullest.

They like to go on nice walks together. They usually have to go into the forest, though, since people don’t exactly ignore either of them.

Arthur definitely says poetic stuff to Shadow, and Shadow physically can’t handle it.

Arthur meeting Team Dark since they’re his family. Bonus points if we include Cream and Vanilla, I’d die for Cream excitedly running to Shadow and exclaiming “Uncle Shadow!”. Arthur thinks it’s adorable that Shadow is good with kids. Rouge and Omega interrogate Arthur and Shadow tells them to knock it off.

Arthur wants nothing more than to spoil Shadow, but Shadow won’t let him most days. The world is a cruel place.

Shadow wearing a suit or something from Arthur’s world and Arthur is absolutely in love with the look. The same goes for the opposite.

Werehog Arthur would absolutely try to hide his other form from Shadow, but he eventually finds out. Arthur is devastated and thinks that Shadow is going to leave him, but all Shadow wants to know is if Arthur needs a painkiller. Shadow has painful transformations with the whole Black Arms thing, so he’s already getting Arthur some Advil.

Shadow having a third eye and/or longer tail from his Black Arms half and Arthur is still absolutely in love. Maybe even a little more. Shadow makes pretty much anything look good in his eyes.

That’s all I have for now! Thank you so much for letting me rant!

THESE ARE SO CUTE im frothing at the mouth thank u for this </3 i don't have much to say but i assure u ive read thru all of it. i esp love the stargazing one, the one where arthur holds a gun, and the family part. SO CUTE </3

WHOEVER SEE THIS WHO HAPPENS TO BE AN ARTIST AND AN ARTHADOW ENJOYER pls draw any of these <//3 they're so cute im gna cry arthadow my beloved

[astro-nerd]

Day 23: “Don’t you dare.”

Fandom: original characters

Character: Nikita

TW: vomiting, illness, passing out

After nearly four years of looking after four kids I have really started to hate the winter months. Yeah, yeah bah humbug or whatever but trust me when you have young kids in the house suddenly you may as well live in a petri dish. The moment Sasha had come home coughing I knew I was doomed. That led to two weeks of throwing up, fevers, and so so much sneezing. Honestly when Sasha had recovered within the week without anyone else even so much as sniffing I’d thanked someone above that they’d all grown out of it. That was immediately thrown back in my face when Javier threw up on me. Ain’t no one above getting any more thanks from me any time soon. Even though they were both now six years old when both Javier and Talia’s fevers spiked the same night I stayed up the whole night dabbing towels on their little faces. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do it for Sasha as well despite her being ten. No chances being taken. Luca reassured me every day that he was doing fine as he headed off to school. Last kid standing as he always is. Until he came home four days after the twins had fallen ill shuffling his way through the house in a way that normally means he’s trying to get away with something. Initially I’d ignored it but that was only because I’d literally just caught vomit in my hands and no I really don’t want to elaborate on that. Only when he didn’t come down for dinner did I find him burning up in his bed after he’d snuck some pain killers and attempted to sleep it off. While I commend his attempt he did get severely scolded by me upon awakening. Although this meant another sleepless night his fever did break within the same day thanks to this kid having the ultimate immune system. At last two weeks later everyone was able to make it through the day without vomiting or spiking a fever and could sleep all the way through the night as I disinfected the entire house. I also took an extra day off school just so they didn’t have to be alone even though we all could’ve gone back. I however find that sending recovered kids back into the environment that got them ill entirely exhausted just isn’t the vibe. Luca did try to help me out in all his fourteen year old boy glory but I continuously sent him back to bed. Now you’re probably wondering ‘what about you, Nikita? Surely you would get sick during all this especially when you’ve hardly eaten and haven’t slept properly in three days.’ If you weren’t well now you are and the answer is that I had simply yet to crash out. I could lie and tell you that my immune system is practically invincible and no illness can touch me but then that would entirely contradict what happened next. Waking up after three days of no sleep and all that other fun stuff I immediately knew I was sick. However, this was the first day back and I was determined to make it smooth. Hence why I did the responsible thing and shoved my issues deep down to be dealt with later. Luca did look concerned throughout breakfast and the bus ride but I reassured him everything would be fine and sent him into school. It did take me slightly longer to get back to my school given that I had to walk half after nearly spewing my breakfast on the sidewalk.

“You alright kid? You’re looking a bit peaky.” Danny worries as I meet him at the doors.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just haven’t slept well looking after the kids y’know?” He thins his lips at me before letting me in,

“Alright kid but just make sure you look after yourself too.” I gave a nod before making my way to class.

The rest of the day had gone by in a blur. I’m pretty sure Fallon had handed me work for the days I’d missed and likely took more for today given that I likely spent it staring off into space. Yes I threw up my lunch but that’s a different problem. Next thing I knew I was sat on the floor of Atlas’ bookshop waiting for my vision to straighten out.

“Nikita? Are you alright?” Ah the one man I didn’t want to see. Y’know the owner and guy who lives here who I had no chance to avoid.

“Fine. Fine. Just give me a sec.” His cool hand touches my head and I close my eyes for a moment to focus on it. Only heat remains when he takes it away.

“You’re burning up. Did you get what your siblings had?” I think I stared at him a moment too long because he repeated his question, kicking my brain again.

“Me? No, I'm not ill, just sleep deprived.” He does not believe me in the slightest. I can’t blame him given that I feel like I’m looking through a funny lens the makes the room go weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee but still the benefit of the doubt couldn’t have hurt.

He sent me home. Which was pretty rude but also I hardly blamed him because I’m pretty sure I asked him where he wanted me to put the apples rather than the children’s book which honestly? I don’t even know. Luca and Sasha clocked me the moment I walked through the door which definitely meant things were bad. Still I headed for the kitchen.

“Nick!” I turn too quick to see it’s Luca who had yelled for me from the other side of the counter.

“Yeah sorry mijo, what’s up?” When did I gain a pan?

“Nick, I really don’t think you should be cooking.” I manage to put the pan down successfully before facing my brother.

“Mijo, I’m fine. I just need to cook and- ” I’ll give myself that, it was famous last words as my vision dimmed. Darkness consuming my fogged brain as I’m pretty sure I hit the cold ground.

“Sasha!” Is all I hear before blacking out.

Coming back to consciousness hit me like a brick which thankfully I can’t really feel cause of the whole no pain sensor thing but it still wasn’t great.

“Don’t you dare move, Nikita.” Hands hold me in place as I find the strength to open my eyes and see Diana above me.

“Diana?” Or that’s what I attempted to say through my tongue tasting like sand. I reckon she got it.

“Yeah it’s me hun. Just stay still while I check you over. You gave the others a bit of a scare so I’m being thorough before I look after everyone tonight.” Now I did try to protest but it mostly was a bunch of mumbles as my eyes closed again. Honestly I just wanted to sleep. Diana confirmed the only medical problem was my fever and proceeded to help me up to my room. I wasn’t going to hear the end of this for a while.

“Just lie there and don’t even think about moving. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you with some meds and some food if you’re up for it. Don’t worry about anything, I will take care of everything.” Any protests I had were smothered by sleep dragging me deep into its grasp. I suppose I could live with the lecture I would be getting tomorrow.

[dirtybitfic]

COMPANY PT.2

Contains~ flirting , slight touching😼, awkward/sexual tension,

Y/n pov-

I jolt up in bed to a rustling sound coming from the corner of my room. My heart is beating a mile a minute until I look over and see Matt grabbing my suitcase and makeup/ toiletry bag.

I put my hand over my heart trying to calm myself . He turns around when he hears my obvious heavy breathing. " Im sorry I didn't mean to scare you I was just grabbing your bags and going to put them in the car" he explains as he slings the bag over his shoulder with ease.

"No its okay just startled me a bit... thank you for grabbing my bags" I say with a smile. " Of course now i'm gonna go put these in the car but I laid out an outfit so you can just throw it on and get into the car" he says with a smile as he heads to the door. "Oh uhh thank you" I say as I run my hands through my hair and get out of bed . "ill be back up in minute to get you and then we'll head out okay?" "Okay sounds good" I say as I walk to my bathroom to go pee and splash some cold water on my face to really wake me up.

I walk out and look on the small seating couch I have pressed against the left wall seeing the outfit he picked for me too wear. Its cute but comfortable so I'm happy he chose it . I throw on a comfortable pair of underwear and get the outfit on and throw on some of my micro mini ugg boots. I put my hair up in a messy bun to keep it out of my face and grab my AirPods, phone and charger and throw them in a small purse and head to my living room to sit on the couch and wait for him to come back.

I sit looking out at all the buildings and the dark cloudy sky . It makes me a little nervous for the flight seeing that its definitely going to be a stormy day which isn't unusual here but flying through a storm is never ideal.

The door opens making me look up at Matt coming in . Its weird seeing my boss just freely open my door with a spare key it almost feels ... wrong . I brush off the feeling creeping down my spine when he smiles at me " Ready to go" he asks as he sets the extra key on the counter. "Yep" I say as I stand up and walk over to him. "Got everything you need?" he asks me before we leave and I forget something. " I got my phone, charger , AirPods, keys anddd oh shit my wallet one sec" I say as run off to my room . "Don't forget your pass port its on your bedside table" he yells after me .

I grab my wallet and passport sighing happy he reminded me to grab it . I run back down the stairs out of breathe . " Okay now I have everything" " And to think little miss perfect almost forgot the two most important things" He says in a joking teasing tone. I roll my eyes and smile and my cheeks flush in embarrassment . " Okay lets go don't want to be late" He says as he ushers me out the door .

We take the elevator down in silence but it's not awkward it's a very comfortable silence . We walk out and head down to the underground parking deck making it to his car . He opens the door for me I smile at him as I climb in and he shuts it behind him . He makes his way around the car opening his door and getting in turning on the car and pulling out of the spot driving through the scanner bar that lifts and we're off to the airport.

The ride take about 30 minutes . I look out the window watching the city go by as he speeds down the highway.

After a bit we reach the private entrance to the jet and plane area . He parks and we make our way through the small check in . " Hi Mr. Sturniolo we'll just need to see both of your ids and passports and run a quick bag check and the you'll be good to go" the man says at the desk . "Of course here's mine and " I hand my id and passport to him "here are hers" . "Thank you everything looks good have a safe flight" he says as they take our bags out of the scanner and wheel them to the door. We walk out of the door and down the stairs to Matts private jet . They put our bags in the cabin for us and the pilot greets us then goes back to the front to start up everything before we take off.

I take a seat in the seat across from Matt and pop in my AirPods starting my playlist I downloaded last week. I lay my head back and relax into the seat . After maybe 10 minutes we take off and our starting our long ass fucking journey to France.

I must have fallen asleep because I jolt awake when I feel a tap on my knee. I take out my AirPods and look at matt who's leaning closer to me . " Im sorry to wake you up but we have about an hour left to the flight " he says . I notice his hair is a bit disheveled and his eyes look a little glazed over . " Wait there is only an hour left ... how long did I fall asleep for?" I question in shock knowing this flight was like 14 hours long . " About 12 hours " he answers casually . " Jesus I haven't slept that long In years" I say as I rub my eyes and yawn . " You needed it after last night " he answers with a comforting smile. " Yeah I guess your right .... Thank you for you know ... it was very nice of you" " Of course you know I care about you " he answers as his hand softly caress my thigh. " I- I know but still thank you it meant a lot to me for you to care that much" I say as I look down at his hand thats still on my thigh. I trace the veins that run from his knuckles to his wrist with my eyes . " We'll now you know that I mean it when I say i'm always here for you if you need anything " he says and I look up at him returning the warm smile he gives me. His hand leaves my thigh and I hate to say it but I so badly wanted to grab it and place it right back where it was.

The last hour goes by quickly and we've landed at a small airport right outside of a large chateau castle type of building.

" This is our hotel" matt informs me as we step off the plane ." The hotel has its own landing strip?" I ask in shock."Yes . They have a lot of high class business people who stay here so it just makes sense" he says as he grabs both our bags and starts walking to a large gate that has large gargoyle on each side. I smile as I take in the gothic architecture , if the is just the gate I cant wait to really get a close look at the château itself.

The gates open as two men stand their smiling. "Mr. Sturniolo so nice too have you back here its been so long" the older man smiles as I follow matt through the now open gate . " I wouldn't stay anywhere else James i'm so glad you had rooms open . I would have been heart broken to have had to stay somewhere else" Matt reply as he gives the man a hug. "I do have some unfortunate news Mathew and we are truly sorry about the trouble it might cause" The man says is a French accent . French accents make everything seem so poised and proper I kind of love it , It's such a change from the bluntness of America. " We'll i'm sure I won't be upset James " matt says as we take a seat on a very nice golf cart and we start heading down the long road to the building . " Well the Grand Prix and MotoGp races are going on right now and we have almost every racer staying here and one of our receptionist made a huge mistake and gave away one of your suites " the man says in a very apologetic tone.

" Oh don't worry about it we are more than capable of sharing a room" I answer quickly to not have James worried . " Yes don't worry about it I know you have a lot going on here and for the most part we will be out shooting a business campaign at a vineyard near Gassin " Matt says genuinely ." Thank you both for your understanding . I don't mean to be rude but what happened to your eye Ms...." " Oh right Ms.Y/l/n . Lets just say a man who is long forgotten by now" I answer trying not to make it a more awkward conversation that it already is. He sigh loudly throwing up his hand in annoyance " American men they are so violent . A beautiful woman like you deserves the best " He says giving me a smile that could light up a whole room . I laugh and smile " Thank you thats very kind of you to say" I answer and he looks over at matt. "Traitez-la bien , Mathew , Elle best trop belle pour la laisser partir" he says as he smiles at Matt. "Croyez-moi , je n'ai pas l'intention de la laisser partir de sitôt , pas maintenant, jamais. Elle me le sait peut-être pas maintenance, mais Elle saura qe'elle sera la lumière de mas ténèbres" Matt answers as I practically drool all over myself . I had no idea he could speak French but that just added fuel to the fire that slowly burns underneath my skin. "Bien, peut-être qu'un jour tu reviendras chez elle pour un séjour de lune de Miel , hein" James answers making Matt laugh like fully laugh, Its nice to hear him laugh like that but I wish I could understand what they are saying . "woah ralentis mais je t'assure que si cela devait arriver, c'est le premier endroit où nous visiterions" Matt answers making James smile . The cart comes to a stop and I snap my head away from staring at Matt . I audibly gasp when I look up at the most beautiful chataue ive ever seen . " Oh my god its beautiful! " I say in excitement as I hop off the cart and look around at the scenery around me . Black locust trees are lining a path into what looks like a meadow or garden i'm not quite sure , Red valerian plants are sprouting all around as well as lavender plants in rows , I also spot small amounts of Japanese pittosporum scattered around. " It is lovely isn't it " James says as he looks around smiling proudly. " The most beautiful thing i've ever seen" I say as a smile at him .

Matt come up next to me carrying both of our bags and I feel bad so naturally I offer to carry my own bags and in response I got " Absolutely not not get your pretty ass walking" . I gulped and turned red as I immediately started walking down the mid length drive way to the stone grand stair case leading to the intricate front door.

The boy standing next to it opens it for us as I step in gasping again at the lobby. It's all so beautiful as you can see how old the building really is which adds a character to the building that is barely ever seen in America .

" Here is your key I really hope you enjoy your stay and if there is anything you need don't resist to call " James says as he walks into what seems to be an office. Matt leads me up the long spiral stair case up to the top floor. " God that was a lot of stairs" I say out of breathe . " How do you think I feel" he answers out of breathe too as he motions to all our luggage he's carrying. " Thats your fault I offered to carry my stuff but nooo" I say with a tinge of attitude . " Hey watch it im still your boss you know" he says in a tone that has me straightening up and apologizing .

We walk down a long dimly lit corridor to a large door at the end . Matt puts the key in the lock and unlocks it and pushes the door open to a large sitting room. He walks in and starts heading straight down a hall to that must be the bedroom . I follow suit and my jaw drops when I see the room . " Oh my god " I gasp as I spin around looking at every intimate detail. " I know right this is my favorite room to stay in" he says as he sets our bags down and kicks off his shoes. I sit down on a stool in the corner and kick off my shoes leaning back against the wall sighing.

"Im gonna shower do you need to use the bathroom before I do" he asks and I nod shyly . " I gotta pee real quick then its all yours" I answer as I get up and walk into the door that I assume is the bathroom . I gasp again when I see how beautiful the bathroom is . "Wow" a gasp loudly and I hear matt chuckle from outside the door at my reaction. I pee and wash my hands then exit to start unpacking while matt showers.

I sit finished unpacking when Matt comes out in only a pair of sweatpants hanging very low on his lean but muscular body . I stare as my jaw is slightly dropped but snap it shut when he looks at me smirking . " ahh sweetheart take a picture it'll last longer" he jokes making me roll my eyes and mumble" fuck off" but he hears it . "Excuse me" he asks and I can hear the darkness of his tone. " Nothing I didn't say anything" I answer feeling a bit nervous ." Thats what I thought now we should probably get some sleep since this time difference is so much we really need to be able to wake up at a good time Tommorrow " he says as he gets into the bed. Just then I realize there is only one bed . " I think ill sleep on the couch " I say as I grab a pair of pajamas he had helped me pack and start walking to change in the bathroom. " Non sense y/n we can sleep in the same bed I know it is morally wrong but I will not let you sleep on a damn couch" he argues. " Fine god okay " I say as I shut the door to the bathroom . I sigh as my mind runs wild with thoughts of how sleeping in a bed with my boss could go. One side of me is thinking "This is wrong you should not be sharing a bed with your boss " while the other side is screaming " YOU'RE GONNA SHARE A BED WITH YOUR SEXY ASS BOSS WHO YOU'VE BEEN SECRETLY PINNING OVER FOR YEARS" which is the side i'm leaning into more.

Im changed and have washed my face and taken an Advil for the headache i've had all day. The second I walk out I look over at matt who is still shirtless and now in shorts which is understandable because the room is a bit warmer than i'd like it to be. I set my old clothes on the couch and grab my charger and head to the opposite side of the bed. Plugging my phone in then switching off the light on the bedside table.

" So what do you think of this place so far" matt asks as I get comfortable. " It's beautiful i've always had a love for architecture" I answer as I turn over to face him . " I had a feeling you'd love it here just wait until we go into town Tommorrow" he answers with a tired smile. " I cant wait" I say returning the tired smile holding back a yawn. " How is your eye feeling" he asks as his hand slowly goes to my face. " Its better but still h-hurts a bit" I say softly as his fingers trace lightly over the dark circle thats formed around my eyes. " What did you ever see in that asshole anyways" he asks his demeanor changing slightly as his body seems too tense a bit mine doing the same. " I... don't know really I mean he was a great boy friend for a good amount of our relationship but as time went on he changed ... I guess I was just too scared to admit it" I answer as I avert my eyes from his , the moment too intense to handle.

" I guess I can understand that but y/n .... you could easily have any man in the city" he says as his hand slowly start to trace over my shoulder. " N-no I couldn't " I stutter out . " You could if you tried trust me you might not see it but in time you will that you hold a power that many woman try to fake " he says as his eyes trace over my face and upper body that uncovered buy the sheets. " Oh yeah and what is that?" I ask in a slight annoyed tone. " Charm , inner and outer beauty, Charisma I mean I could go on but most of all your just a good person i've never seen you angry or rude to anyone ever ... that is until the other night" he says genuinely and I cant help but smile at his kind words. " Thank you for the compliments but I think some time away from the shitty men of Seattle is much needed" I say with a soft laugh.

He smiles " We're not all shitty you know " he answers making me smile and shake my head . " Well technically your from Massachusetts so you don't count" I say but immediately regret it given it sounds like i'm saying he has a chance ... obviously he does but again he my boss so nope cant go there. " Mmm I guess you're right about that" he says smirking as his hands slides down my arm slowly making goosebumps cover my skin . I watch his face as his hand continues sliding down my arm until it reaches my back and he softly pulls me closer making me gasp . " So hypothetically speaking if I wasn't your boss i'd have a shot" he whispers as his eyes meet mine. " well I - umm if you weren't my boss I- guess maybe I don't know" I practically choke on my words as I look into his bright blue eyes that seem to darken as I speak. " what a shame i'm your boss then huh" he mumbles but I understand every word . " W-what" I squeak out making him chuckle . " Nothing sweetheart let's get some sleep " he says as his hand slides of my back and he rolls over turning off the light on his side and pulling the covers higher to cover his whole body. I turn over and sigh as my mind is on awake Mose from the conversation we just had.

Why would he ask me that ? Was he flirting? Is this a dream?

I slowly drift to sleep as thoughts run on repeat in my head.

[kingcunny]

(reply via @neurodivergentguy )

the ageism/ beauty obsession* is what it *probably is*, but that deeply depresses me so im gonna let the delusions speak and explore other ideas.

also just… pointing out. matthew needham is only 11 years younger than paddy… they were born in different generations but 10 years is not a generation gap? that doesnt seem like enough of an age gap for ageism to apply to one but not the other but… well what do i know. (and pleace and love, i think hes cute, but matthews far from the most handsome man in hotd) also. exception that prooves the rule? rhys ifans is 6 years Older than paddy (and ottos the one who set alicent up to be brutalized by every man around her until she dies, it were going by hotd canon!) and sure, otto Might be the second most hated in the fandom, but not anywhere Near how vis is. but rhys is also incredibly handsome. so that Obviously gives the character he plays a free pass to do whatever.

* (is there a word for that? (other than. eugenics lol. cause like thats the idea Behind it but not quite to the extreme that im talking about? i mean more peoples attraction towards ‘beauty’ vs a repulsion towards ‘ugliness’) cause i need one for how often i talk about it)

if it was just about actions then theyve both done terrible things. and theyve both hurt everyones favorite beautiful doe eyed pretty brown eyed beauty beautiful pretty girl. but larys doesnt get near the amount of vitriol for it. people analyze what larys did. people ship Them. (same thing more or less applies to what i said above about otto)

and if youll allow me to straddle my armchair for a moment, then theres my thought that viserys is the bad dad we get the most time with. and NOBODY has a good relationship with their father. most people cant do anything about that, so instead they seek catharsis through fiction. smacking the representation of your father cause you cant smack your real father. see also- succession fandoms treatment of logan roy

while i do think its ultimately just about playing favorites, ageism, beauty obsession**, i think theres also an element of ableism. and hear me out, cause i know ur thinking ‘arent they both disabled?’

larys disability is very visible and apparent, the limitations of that disability as well. his leg is twisted, he wears that metal boot over his foot, he walks with a cane, he has a limp. he cant run, cant fight, cant hunt, i can tell you from personal experience stairs are a struggle. he can probably ride a horse but its sure not comfortable. its more understandable. more or less, what you see is what it is. and, importantly, its not… unpleasant** to look at. his face is fine. the rest of his body is fine. just his leg.

viserys disability spawns from an illness. and even though hotd changed viserys illness to be more visual, the nature of illness is you cant see the cause, only the effects. and most of those effects are only things the person experiencing the illness can feel.

i had a conversation with my mom about this awhile ago after she pulled a tendon? in her leg and was in near constant pain while it healed, couple weeks. she told me she had no idea how i handled this, day in/day out, week after week, for Years. she was miserable and at the end of her rope after just a week of it. my moms a runner and runs something like 50 miles a week, obviously she couldnt do this while it healed and was very depressed about it. i could only kinda laugh. i couldnt tell her how i handle it, cause i cant. i just told her i think if you dont have chronic pain or a chronic illness, you just straight up do not and Will not understand what its like. she just had a little taste of it.

i think that also might be why theres not as much (good) discussion around viserys disability. because people just, do not understand it. dont understand what its doing to him.

they dont get how chronic illness eats away at you (in vis case, literally!) taking piece by piece until theyres nothing left. until youre just a shell of the person you used to be. they dont feel how chronic pain grinds away at you until youre nothing but a raw exposed bundle of nerves. because those arent things you can see. only feel. experience first hand.

the show tries to make up for this lack by making viserys illness have a very striking visable aspect to it. to show the progression of his illness and the effect its having on him. but illness is gross**. its not pretty. its not pleasant to look at, to *think* about. it ravages his face, his body, his teeth rot and his hair falls put. his arm has to be amputated, his eye is removed, half his face rots away. peoples stomachs turn to look at it and their animal instincts that this is Bad kick in.

if im being kind, most people dont want to talk about things that are unpleasant. that make them sick, that upset and scare them.

if im not being kind, the eugenics minded decide that this means *viserys* is bad. that this is a punishment for or straight up a moral failing of his. outer beauty reflects inner beauty so ugly=evil pretty=good. and all that bullshit. if youre coming at it from this pov you CANT think deeper about viserys disability/illness/character beyond it being a punishment or joke, because then you must confront your belief that illness is a punishment reserved for the Bad. and that is a thought that is just incompatible with life

[cosmic-rin]

Q. Write a story about a character who overcomes a personal fear or phobia.

Man is afraid of many things in this world. Be it the uncharted depths of the ocean, or the elusive corners of the universe, man fears what he does not understand. It is only natural- a primal instinct honed by millions of years of survival of our ancestors. Fears and phobias vary from person to person; some fear spiders, some fear heights. These are trivial things. Many fear death, loneliness, sickness or desparity. But it matters not, for it is all the same. Man doesn't fear tangible things, because he fears the feeling of threat and being overpowered.

As a single father to two beautiful kids, Robert Weide feared many ordinary things. When his children asked him about what scared him the most, "Surely the bravest man we know fears something in this world," he'd humour them with tales of the slumbering kraken in velvety depths or unknown species inhabiting faraway planets. But, at night when he put them to bed, his heart was gripped with such a fear that it made his knees weak and his chest tremble.

Robert's greatest fear was not a mythical beast or futuristic creature in some lonesome planet. His greatest fear was to let his children fend for themselves in this cruel and dangerous world. He feared, that after their mother's passing, should something happen to him, they would have no one left to take care of themselves but each other. Defenseless, poor, alone- scared. It simply felt too much to bear. Were he left to his own devices for too long, Robert would think of unlikely things and make them seem as likely in his mind as the sun rising at dawn.

He noticed the hardships orphaned children faced- the gauntness of their face, the paleness clinging to their once soft features. He'd see their silent anguish as he passed the orphanage; he saw their devotion to create a better life for themselves. Robert had a soft spot for children; he'd always hand them a few extra loaves of bread and "accidentally" forget to return their change whenever they bought something. But, seeing these children on the street depressed him, and he'd see his own childrens' faces in each and every one of them, imagining what his own children would go through if he wasn't around to protect them.

Then one day, Robert took ill. A new kind of fever was going around, and in the height of it, he even had to close up shop. Money was tight and Robert's health was worsening. Upon his stubbornness to continue working despite his failing lungs, his children took matters into their own hands and tucked him into bed, making sure he wouldn't get out no matter what. This drastic measure brought about serious changes in his perspective.

He noticed how his son didn't need training wheels to ride his bike anymore- he hadn't needed them for a long time, Robert just hadn't noticed until yet. He noticed how his daughter's embroidery was a hot topic in their corner of the village- he didn't even know his daughter embroidered at all. He noticed how both his children worked together to nurse him back to health. How his daughter took up work in the bakery and his son stayed home to make sure Robert took his medicines on time and made him soup for his sore throat- Robert didn't know when, but in some time after Lilian's death and the past few years, his children had grown up and stopped needing him running around to take care of them. They could very well take care of themselves on their own.

Like a scion that grows from the concrete and cobbled streets, his children had grown up to be strong and dependable- he realised that even without his guidance, they would be fine on their own. Robert felt reassured. He felt at peace, knowing that whatever happens, Rory and Ronnie will be alright on their own.

And when his Rory asked him one night what Robert feared the most now, he replied, "Falling ill," because while Ronnie had grown up to be a most brilliant and capable young man, his homemade soups left much to be desired!

[fuleao]

WOOHOO 9, 30, 37!

Ahaha this time I am NOT gonna forget to answer asks after getting so excited to receive some >3

9. (A Story from Childhood)

Okay. I don’t know how old I was in this story. I’m gonna guess 10-13. Also fair warning, I’m rambly.

My sisters and I had heard a lot about the shenanigans our dad got up to as a child. Some we could not recreate - we did not have a tractor tire to get inside of and roll down a hill. But did have bikes, and he had told us about how he and his friends used to ride on each others’ handlebars, since not everyone had bikes.

The first problem we ran into was that this is not at all comfortable. Especially since we had 15-speed “mountain” bikes, which meant little knobs on the handlebars for switching speeds. The youngest sister had recently bought a bike with her own money for five bucks at a yard sale; hers became the designated Handlebar-Rider Bike, since hers had the widest space between the damn knobs. We managed to make it a little more comfortable by sitting on a thin pillow that this same sister had made while learning to use the sewing machine. It had disney princesses on it.

We started out tame enough, riding around on the flat section of the road in front of the house. But we were off-roaders with those bikes, and we lived in a hilly neighborhood. Our backyard and the next-door neighbor’s had the best hills, both for bikes and for sledding. (All the neighborhood kids had free rein to go zooming down that neighbor’s hill; she thought it was great fun to watch our antics.) For reference, the two yards combined were about 3-4 acres.

So it was only a matter of time before we decided to try off-roading with our new setup.

My sisters started it, riding down the shorter hills along the side of the house. When I learned about this, I asked the next-oldest sister if she wanted to try one of the big hills. She agreed.

We rode down the side yard, and from there it was flat until we got to the end of the backyard, where the cow pasture started (we were surrounded by cow pastures; in fact, the whole subdivision used to be cow pasture). Once we reached the fence, we turned right, which meant something like 200 feet of downward slope. Not a steep slope, but plenty to get a bike going.

I have a tendency to get caught up in the moment and get too rowdy. This impulse was worse as a child. As we started downhill, I pedaled to speed us up even more. My sister realized what she’s gotten herself into, and started screaming. I didn’t think much of it, she was the one who often came up with our worst ideas (riding down a hill on a lawnchair tied to a skateboard, for example. Or various ill-advised stunts performed on the staircase.) I was just laughing. We passed our dad while he was doing yardwork, and he started laughing too.

As we got to the bottom of the hill, I figured I should start braking, like my sister had been shouting for me to do. So I did.

Now. If you’ve ever ridden a handbrake bike on wet grass, you might know that the wheels can get so wet that the brakes won’t work. Or maybe that's just the brakes on your sister’s yardsale bike. This one certainly wasn’t going to stop.

I relayed this to my sister and joined in her screaming.

From here, we were already in the neighbor’s yard. I was too late to try slowing down by turning up the hill to our right. At the back, the neighbor had a large patch of weeds, with a little bit of an aisle cleared between the weeds and the cow fence. This continued to the other side of her yard, where the cow fence made a right angle, and the grassy aisle followed it. I didn’t think going into the weeds would work, so the only option I could see was to try to make the 90-degree turn once we got to it. I wasn’t confident I could make it.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to try. I remember the bike hitting something, and then I was lying on my back, looking at the sky. Nothing hurt. I laid there, dazed, before cautiously calling out my sister’s name. She answered. I asked if she was okay, to which she replied that she was and asked me the same. I was fine. With that established, we started laughing hysterically.

We’d hit a gopher hole. My sister was closer to the bike than I was, and my feet were pointing away from the bike. I had been launched right over her, and I think I must have done a flip. But neither of us were hurt at all, not even the next day, from what I remember. 

Unfortunately, the crash had scrunched our other sister’s bike, to the point where the wheel couldn’t turn without hitting the down pipe. She was furious.

30. (Something that always makes you happy)

Sometimes I just gotta put on some socks, go to the tile floor in the kitchen, put on some music and dance it out, man. Music is already a good mood booster, but adding movement to it is what really brightens my day.

37. (A secret)

Oh boy. Well. Okay. About eight years ago, I had this custodian job. Sometimes when I was cleaning people’s offices, they would set pizza boxes on top of their small trash cans, with pieces still in. If the pizza inside had no bites out of it and otherwise looked undisturbed, I sometimes ate some of it. Not the smartest move, I know.

[sailor-hufflepuff]

Trope Rating Game

Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?

-10 -> very dissuaded

0 - don’t care either way

+10 -> very enticed

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged. Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

Thanks for the tag @pookaseraph !

Age Gap: +5

This is a relatively new one for me, before Darklina it was a squick, but now I’ve found several pairings in other fandoms that I like.

Codependency: +10

Yes, please. I want them totally wrapped up in each other and unable to function alone.

Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: +7

Love it, with ☝️the caveat: it must be mutual. Not the extremism, but the emotions must be mutual. If the feelings are not requited then it’s just creepy.

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +10

This is my favorite dynamic of all time! Light/dark, fire/water, warrior/diplomat, grumpy/sunshine, pragmatic/idealistic…. It is my bread and butter.

Enemies to lovers:+5

I like it, so long as they’re truly enemies. “I like and respect you, but we are on opposite sides and thus can’t be together…until one or both of us realize we’re on the wrong side” is absolutely amazing, heart wrenching, and rewarding. “We got off on the wrong foot/had a misunderstanding when we met, and now use our antagonism to excuse absolutely abominable behavior until something makes us realize we were wrong/the other person is human after all/actually we want to bag” makes me want to set my computer on fire out of hatred.

Enemies with benefits: -nope

I’ve never understood the appeal of hate sex. Someone could be objectively the most attractive person on the planet, but if they’re a jerk then the thought of touching them makes me ill.

Friends with benefits: -nope

“Love is being sexually attracted to your best friend” is an adage that has always resonated with me. FWB in fics is just people in denial of their feelings - or worse, lying about not caring.

Sex to feelings: -10

If I love the author, I’ll give it a shot; but in general it’s a no for me.

Fake dating/relationship: +3

Can be fun, especially if they’re more or less strangers and the ruse is how they fall in love. Hard pass if they’re already in love but just pining instead of owning up to their emotions.

Friends to lovers: -4

I used to love this one, but have started to avoid it because they all seem to involve sexual double standards. “Boy is in denial of his feelings, sleeps around. Female kisses one person and boy gets ridiculously jealous and realizes he’s in love with his best friend, tells her she can’t be with anyone but him.” Shoot me now.

Found Family: +10

Yes please! Give me team mom/dad, give me group bonding activities, give me friends protective of each other, give me ride or die, give me “you can’t hate your asshole father but I can and will on your behalf.”

Hurt/Comfort: +7

Back in my day we called it “whump”, and it is soooo cathartic.

Love Triangle: -10

Despise them. I could write on essay on why I hate them but I won’t subject you to that. If I love the author, and the triangle is minor, I’ll grit my teeth and overlook it.

Poly, open relationships: -0

I have several OT3s that I’m quite attached to, but it must be a stable, closed circle. Open relationships are a hard no for me.

Mistaken/hidden identity: -0

Not a fan of mistaken identity because I don’t like the false drama of misunderstandings, but a deliberately hidden identity can be really good.

Monsterfucking: -7

Not my thing, but I’ll make exceptions for favorite pairings and authors or an interesting premise.

Pregnancy: +5

I love babies after, though I’ve had to back click too many times when the author CLEARLY has not taken even a basic sex ed class.

Second Chance: -7

Only acceptable if two things are true. First, there must be a valid reason they broke up (no stupid misunderstandings), and second that reason must no longer apply (so if they moved across the country but they’re back now that’s great, but if one of them cheated then they’re still a cheater and that’s not acceptable).

Slow Burn: -nope

I met my husband on valentines, had my first real conversation with him on Easter started dating in June, got engaged in July, and got married in November. I am PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE of slow burn.

Soulmates: +10

Yes, always, every time. I especially adore ones that are almost like an arranged marriage - “here is the person you are destined to be with, the two of you are complete strangers, how are you going to make this work?”

Tagging @orlissa , @plightofthecentipede , @ncarnesir , and @purplesigebert !

[draftmare]

We had bit drama this year with the whole USDF baucher thing, but we also had girth drama this year, ugh.

It started early this year when I FINALLY got my hands on a County dressage saddle that fits both Sydney and I perfectly. The problem was that my girth from my previous County was oddly too long. Granted, the old County was on a WXW tree and Sydney really only needs a W tree, so I don’t know if that was the difference, or if it was the fact that the old County was a 2009 and this County is/was a 2021 that was being passed around as a demo. Anyway, long story short, I bought a new girth. I treated myself to a girth I had been wanting for a while, a Lemieux Gel-Tek, which is modeled after the ProLite and Fairfax girths (LeMieux is actually rather notorious for knocking off famous brands for cheaper). I had had one in brown for my string of ill fated and ill fitting brown dressage saddles, and had really liked it. This one, however, appeared to be a dud. Every time I used it, it dyed Sydney black. I reached out to the company and they told me to just condition it, and that it would eventually stop. Well, I didn’t want to wait for to eventually stop, not when it was leaching who knows what kind of chemicals on to my horse’s skin on an almost daily basis, and she already has a type of cancer and a couple of sarcoids to boot.

I bought a Professional Choice Ventech girth, but this time with fleece, I say this time with fleece because the girth I used for my old County was the exact same girth, just a 32 inch, and with neoprene. Something about it being shorter just made it not sit right on her though, but I held on to it because I knew in my head that we had been using this brand and style of YEARS without issue. We will come back to this thought in a minute.

Next up on the try list was a WOW brand H-girth. I did some pretty extensive research about these girths, and how they were well suited to horses with Sydney’s conformation: big belly, forward girth groove, saddle needs to be kept back despite gravity saying it should go forward. The only thing I kept seeing was that these girths were more meant for the WOW saddles, which all come equipped with a point billet, which I mean, makes sense considering they are made by WOW. My saddle does not have a point billet, both billets come straight down off the tree, which works much better for Sydney because the saddle isn’t being pulled forward into her shoulder. One of the other riders at the barn has one of these girths, so I got to try it for a couple of rides, and then further internet sleuthing assured me that there are people that use them on saddles without a point billet.

Did it work? Sorta… Was it ideal? Not really. The straps kind of angled back towards each other because of how my billets are. Even though WOW says these can be used on saddles without a point billet, the spacing makes it really hard. We used this most of the summer until I started to notice that she was getting some rubs between the straps as her winter coat was coming in. This to me indicated that she was likely getting rubbed all the time, it was just now her coat was long enough to make it obvious.

So, I swapped her to the Professional Choice Ventech girth, and she promptly got a girth gall. I was MORTIFIED. I have never felt so horrible. Thankfully, I wasn’t on some 5 hour long trail ride, or anything like that. She got a week off for it to heal, then swapped back to the WOW girth while trainer and I pondered what to do. We didn’t really come up with any solutions other than to keep riding in the WOW girth for the time being while I scoured the internet for information.

This past week the saddle fitter came out, and I grilled her for solutions. Side note, OMG did getting my saddle flocked make a huge difference. I could feel it sitting differently with more wool in there. I wish I had been a little more insistent on her coming out sooner. I can also now toss the fluffy half pad and go back to my ProLite half pad, which feels so much nicer under my butt.

Fitters suggestion was the Total Saddle Fit StretchTec girth. It’s an interesting design, meant to be anatomical as well as move with the horse as their body expands and contracts during different points of a ride. I didn’t really want to spend full price on yet ANOTHER girth this year (are we keeping count?), but thankfully there are a ton of these available used (which may or may not be concerning), it was just a matter of finding the right size and color at a price I was willing to pay. This ended up giving me my first experience with buying from the TackTack app. Everything went smoothly, and I ended up with a basically new girth for a song.

I had my first ride in it today, and so far it seems to tick all of the boxes. No rubs, allows the billets to hang straight down, and fits her well. Time will tell if this ends up being our ultimate winner. I am crossing my fingers because I have no idea where I would go next.

[ahedderick]

Rodeo

Ah, the county fair. We had had only normal summer heat up until this week, then the miserable heat wave came to visit.

Wednesday night was rodeo night at the county fair just north of us in Pennsylvania. The fairgrounds are laid out over a large area, with the livestock barns nicely separated from the commotion of the midway. The grandstand/arena is in between, and unfortunately some absolute nitwit set up the grandstand facing due west. For nearly every show or event, the audience is being broiled and blinded by the setting sun.

We entered the grandstand about 40 minutes before showtime, but virtually all the seats were either taken or had belongings strewn across them to 'save' them. It took us a while to find an open block where the kids and I could sit together, and the concrete benches were radiantly warm. We sat, and sweated, and squinted. There was a pre-show event for kids which could have been fun to watch - but there was a knot of people standing just exactly between us and the livestock chute. Very Small Kids were trying to ride ill-tempered sheep, which had the potential to be truly amusing - but we only caught glimpses. Every time the people standing in the aisle would move on and find seats, new people would materialize. Out of nearly a hundred yards of grandstand, the only space where people were continually standing was - by us.

People-watching ended up being the default activity. There were so many people. The website claims that there is seating for 10,000 people there, and I'd believe it. One very young woman strutted by in skin-tight jeans, a b&w handkerchief halter top, a black stetson with rhinestones hanging down all around the edges, and enough makeup for three. She had the cheekbones and appallingly thin physique of a pro model, and a hard, beautiful, mean face. What, I wondered, is the story? Moments later another young woman passed in front of me with a very homely face, a modest shirt that looked brand-new and maybe like she was trying to dress up just a little, and a happy, peaceful face. The contrast was comically intense. Humanity. I know which one I would have wanted to go out to lunch with.

At 7:30 two things happened; the actual rodeo started up and the sun dropped behind the mountain. r-e-l-i-e-f! They had three 'sections' of bull-riding, barrel-racing, a trick rider, and a brief interval of 'bull hockey.'

The bull riders did not acquit themselves very well. Out of about twenty riders, only three managed to stay on the full 8 seconds to qualify. One clearly had the best ride, but the judges somehow gave him a mediocre score of 72. Barrel racing was a lot more engaging. Many of the horses were really, REALLY into it, and flung themselves around the cloverleaf pattern and back down the straight. One, a gorgeous black and white pinto, turned so sharply that it slid out completely in the sandy soil. Horse and rider were ok, but it gave everybody a 'rodeo moment' of gasping and then applause.

Note: This little essay has been sitting in my drafts since July. I don't know why I can't seem to wrap it up, but I cannot. It seems best to say that the rest of our evening at the fair was pleasant (and much cooler). It's bittersweet to go with young adults to activities that used to be exciting when they were young children. We enjoyed the massive livestock barns full of cattle and horses, goats sheep, and pigs. The kids no longer enjoy the rides, so we wandered around the midway just watching. Fried treats were consumed, and we got some joy out of the mechanical bull. Both of them had decent (and hilarious) rides on it. I wanted very much to try, but was afraid of the consequences for my hinky right shoulder. Eventually we said goodbye to the lights and the Fair (Faery?) Confusion and headed through the sticky summer night toward home.

[starburstcosmos]

god, let me TELL YOU about the day i fucking had.

this morning: fell asleep at MAYBE 3:30 for a 5 alarm to catch a greyhound leaving at 6:45. which didn't leave until after 8. my connection was at 11:50, we arrived at 11:55ish. thank the punk rock gods, the connecting bus was still here.

BUT OH NO. in my rush to get to the connection (in a cast and hobbling my best because fuck the crutches), my headphone case (sans headphones) falls out of my pocket in a sacrifice to the punk rock gods. devastating, i can't charge my headphones without the case, but whatever, they're charged enough to get me through the connecting bus ride, and I have backups at home, where I will be after the show anyways.

my friends pick me up in at the stop and head to the venue to get in line. after a few merch mishaps and bracelet trades, im at my seat. it's a GREAT view, and i realise that one of the bits of the show i love is going to happen about ten feet from my seat. fuck yeah. by the time fob is set to go on, even better seats have opened up, incredible! I'll be five feet away from pete!

now, let me take you on a detour: one of the things we as the fans have been doing this tour is printing out pink seashells to light up during fake out to turn the venue pink, and we've been doing it since the tour started in Wrigley. its a group effort with people handing out shells to people without and explaining how it works.

right before fall out boy is set to start, im doing my best to pass out shells when someone taps me on the shoulder and asks, "do you want to give a shell to Pete's girlfriend?" immediately i say yes, of course!

another tangent: i have made several bracelets for both shows i went to. four of these are for fall out boy, saying thanks. I tried in indy to get them to the boys through crew to no avail.

so, after i give meagan, pete's girlfriend, a bit of the spiel and some shells, i humbly request, "i made bracelets for the boys saying thanks, is there a chance you'd be willing to give them to them?" she agrees! another win!!

dance, dance rolls around, im screaming my head off, i get video of pete doing his magic trick (and patrick waving his fingers to pretend like he's the one doing the magic -- ill put everything into a gdrive folder later and post a link somewhere) and then pete is five feet away from me in his mesh rose shirt and im having the TIME OF MY FUCKING LIFE. WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE.

the show ends, im waiting for people to clear out to go towards the designated spot to meet my friends. no one else has really stayed by the sound booth. i carefully make my way over there (the seats are mostly empty at this point) and ask the sound guy working if i can have his set list. he hands it to me with a smile :)

and on my way to my meeting spot we pass by the pit and manage to get one of the security people to grab me a handful of confetti and streamers and get it shoved into a ziplock bag before im out for the night.

so: shitty morning, incredible fucking night including confetti and being five feet away from pete wentz and the setlist (the code for 27 was tango sierra btw!) and finally getting my bracelets to the boys. i am so, so, so fucking happy and i feel like the luckiest person in the fucking world and like im currently living the life of a wattpad protag.

[hungerun]

under the cut is my hc abt the maw (plus, six’s backstory bc its kinda intertwined), the signal tower, and how both of them function. along with what kinda world would create both of them in the first place.

(the maw, ft six’s backstory)

>six’s mother was the lady of the maw, and her father was a visitor who had been just ‘passing through’, but ended up staying a lot longer then intended. what he didn’t realize, was the fate he doomed his daughter with that decision. >there was a familial curse that clung to the fujioka bloodline, the side effects of a deal taken god knows how many years ago. an exchange of power, for sustenance. the lady got powerful dark magic, and the entity that was now attached to her acted much like a parasite, being passed from host to host.

>the maw was, originally, created with good intentions. it’s hard to believe now, but. once upon a time, it was supposed to be a sort of safehouse, protecting people from the confusing world outside, among other things. >but, even it eventually succumbed to greed, and fell into the state of disrepair we know it to be today, cannibalism and death now rampant. >problem children and attempted runaways are turned to nomes by the lady’s dark magic, and are then left to try and keep the dying ship running. >the lady of the maw’s first born child with always fall ill soon after birth, the most concerning of the symptoms? a growing hunger. it’ll start out subtle, and then become uncomfortable, but bearable. it only gets worse from there. eventually, it’ll be so overwhelming, the child has no choice but to lunge out!– >they then become the next ruler of the maw, taking their parents place, and the cycle continues. the beast is settled for now, but it’ll want to feed again, eventually.

>the visitor was kept in the dark of this inevitably, of course. that is, until he heard the strangely dark lullaby his new wife lulled their child to sleep with from the next room. it was a bit too detailed, a bit too… real, maybe? soon, he came to wish that wasn’t the case. >though the visitor was to quick to placate his wife, soothing her fears of him ‘getting in the way of fate’. he, of course, was already making a plan to get himself, and their kid, out of the situation. though he still loved the lady, or loved at least what he thought he knew, he wouldn’t, couldn’t, put his daughter through all of that.

>on the same day, every year, the maw resurfaces for a short period, boats from near and far come bellowing with the hungry chants of the guests eager to get aboard. the visitor simply kept his head down, blending into the noisy sea of flesh, he managed to slip onto one of the visiting ships, and hitches a ride back to the mainlands, with his now almost year old daughter in tow. >he settled down, finding himself a job as a lighthouse keeper. when running from something that stalks the seas, most people would assume the smartest course of action would be to move somewhere inland. runaway as far as possible, forget the smell of the ocean breeze all together, but… >he just thought that maybe, maybe, with the lighthouse, he could see fate when it came for them. that wasn’t the case, unfortunately.

(the mainlands/the tower)

>the tower’s general purpose is to keep it’s citizens in a happy, totally unaware state, allowing the ‘worldly horrors’, (the north wind, the man in the mirror, etc etc), to feed off their hope. which in turn, makes them leave the quote unquote, 'more important people’ alone. (these being people like the pretender, the hunter, the teacher, the doctor, etc etc.)

>the signal itself is powered by children’s dreams, hence it���s effect, as it plays off adult’s nostalgia and ache for their past. simpler times, y'know? to get these dreams, normal children are kidnapped from their homes, being replaced with a doll-child. their parents are usually so out of it, they can’t tell the difference. >these doll-children are created and educated at the schoolhouse by it’s strict teacher. it was a normal school at some point, but that’s not the case anymore. >once the children have been captured, they are brought to the tower, and put to sleep. any dreams they have are stolen from them, which leaves them with only a enteral nightmare. they don’t age once asleep, some of those kids have been trapped for many, many, many years. >the only person able to free them and wake them from their slumber is mono/the thinman himself, bc he’s able to see the what’s left behind of those kids, the static phantoms that silently haunt the airwaves.

>there’s an even more unfortune side effect to all this. the signal is made up of mostly good dreams, of course, but. those nightmares? they affect it too, albeit more subtly, and slow. they’ve been leaking into reality itself, distorting the world and its inhabitants, more and more. adults tower over children with horrifying faces, terrible things lurk in the dark and under the bed, and they’re left to defend for themselves. and, the 'important people’ either aren’t paying attention, or. if they do see it, but they just don’t care. >as for the thinman himself, he acts as a sort of 'ghost in the machine’, simply pulling the strings from behind the scenes. he’s apart of the signal itself, that is, until someone with a similar gift, can reach and free him, like mono unknowingly does in-game. this cycle is similar to the lady’s, as once defeated, the child is destined to become the new thin-man, so forth so on.