#or rather i do but its at the bottom of my list of things to get to lol

[petermorwood]

I first read this book when I was about ten years old - a senior cousin's copy - and finding a scan on the Comic Book Plus website let me refresh memories long ago consigned to the furthest recesses of the Mind Palace (or in my case, Untidy Mind Attic).

Its stories are fairly typical Ripping Yarns, but I'd forgotten just how Keen On Sport "The Champion" was. The title alone should have warned me, because there are six annuals on the website, all full of Hearty, Keen and Sporty goings-on.

I've posted more than once that Organised Sport was at the bottom of any list of Things I Liked To Do. In particular I detested the compulsory variety inflicted at Big School, which started happening when I was about eleven and made recollections of Jim's jolly-good-stuff annual increasingly sour.

A lot of the stories are pure sport, but several others have their sporting angle jammed into action-adventure yarns of completely non-sport-related genres, often with all the subtlety of a square peg put into a round hole with a sledgehammer.

For instance, "Rockfist Rogan of the RAF", hero of World War Two air-combat stories, was better known in his story universe as a boxer than as a fighter pilot.

Despite this, illustrations of aircraft were spot-on - as here, a Mosquito FB Mk VI with Dornier Do.217s overhead and a nosed-over Typhoon Ib in the background, or Spitfire Mk IXs defending B-24 Liberators against Messerschmitt Me.163 rocket fighters (though from the text description they should have been Me.262 jets. Oh well.)

If readers of "The Champion" were anything like readers of the war comics I used to read, the editor would have got a lot of disapproving letters if those illustrations weren't accurate. I might have sent one myself about the Messerschmitt error.

At least I might have done if I'd been of letter-writing age, rather than not yet born...

The Rogan stories aren't the only example of Sport In Unexpected Places. There's "Cap' Dan, the Sporting Pirate" (snrk), "The Racing Rajah", "The Sporting Mountie", "Johnny Fleetfoot the Redskin Winger" (rolleyes) and "Kog's Amazon Marathon", which reads like "Apocalypto" remade with a cast of Keen and Sporty English schoolboys.

And, thanks to how language and attitudes have changed, one story nearly sent a spray of tea across my monitor.

I don't think either the title or the plot would work very well today...

:->

[suddenrundown]

ot3 camping is a great scenario (to Me) because from eliot’s perspective it’s the most romantic thing he could possibly be doing (pre or post relationship, doesn’t even matter), from parker’s perspective it’s a Challenge she has to Survive (which is a challenge she’s up for...for like 10 minutes before she’s bored) and Hardison’s like “i’m in hell” from the word go

[beeseverywhen]

Not having a car in your 20s really is a humbling experience. That post where the guys like 'I have to ask my mum to go to walmart' I feel that.

I'm not American so I do have the benefit of town living and a walkable community. I feel very lucky to have been able to live right in the heart of my hometown again (lived on the main street above a shop for a while as a kid but mostly lived in residential areas. As an adult I'm lucky enough to live on a road coming off the main street (can no longer live in places with stairs so above a shop is no longer an option) HOWEVER.

my town is gentrified as fuck and all the shops are stupid. And even if I put up with the cost and buy the things I can in local shops, I can only carry a very limited weight of shopping, but am very stupid and overestimate my ability/ realise but still get carried away and buy too much as I have no impulse control every time. So I'm left having to beg lifts/tag along with pretty much anyone that'll have me lol.

Pour one out for me, trying to run a household and not even having parents I can ask for lifts. I'm begging lifts off aunties, grandparents, friends, fucking COUSINS. Most humbling experience ever and without a car you can't even repay them with easy errands. Watch me repay the favour with CHILDCARE, with TECH SUPPORT, with financial advice. Those are all the worst favors. I don't mind doing them but BY GOD would I prefer to be able to occasionally just pick them up something from the shop. Drop them at the train station. Pick up a parcel.

[pearlzier]

────⠀ soldier boy has a glasses kink WHO said that

warnings / SMUT ! MDNI. soldier boy. bro hes a warning just, as himself. glasses kink ???. oral(m!recieving). uhhh kinda filthy i gotta say. he cums on reader's glasses + face. dirty talker. degradation? he says whore once. first time writing ben uhhh let me know if u guys like it <3 and if u wanna be on the tag list for uhhh the boys or jensen stuff idek

thank u @theosaurous for gracing our earth with this beautiful hc all creds 4 this thing to them <3 (its been almost a month HELP)

it's humiliating. completely degrading and demeaning and you're lapping it all up even then. the way he holds you so gently but lets the meanest things fall from his lips, his words gruff and gravelly, it makes your head spin. your skin feels hot, your knees digging into the shitty motel rug beneath you as he keeps you on your knees below him. your chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, eyes darting up to him frantically from where you're kneeling. "look at you," he grunts.

the entire reasoning for your position beneath him and status of being gagged by his cock? those glasses of yours. usually you wore contacts, since they were easier for your line of work and simpler to handle everyday. ben had never seen you without contacts before, wearing glasses. he'd be a damn liar if he tried to say that it didn't turn him on so bad to see you with those lenses over your eyes and nose bridge adorned.

"teasing me with those fucking glasses, huh? shoulda' worn 'em earlier, maybe wouldn't have ended up on your knees like a whore for me, huh?" he pats the head of his cock against your lips, grasping the back of your head tightly to push himself between your lips once more. a guttural groan escapes him and he swallows thickly, a low chuckle escaping him too.

"that's it, take that fucking dick. that's it, fuck." the look of your glasses slipping down your nose, too low to actually help you see however perfect for ben to get off on.

you're practically drooling on him, lips stretched around him with every inch he pushes further down your throat. the whimper you let out by the time he's near bottoming out makes him groan, and his grip on the back of your head tightens instinctively. "ben—"

"shh, sh, don't wanna hear a word out of your mouth," his tone is practically a snarl but still soft enough to coax you into listening to him. "just wanna look at you, those glasses, shit," he didn't know he was into glasses, to be honest with you. ben was into everything about you, but this? this new development? yeah, he'd take advantage of it for a long ass time.

"look so good takin' my cock," he muses, thumb stroking over your cheek. it brushes over your lips, soon smearing your saliva over them with another low chuckle. he likes leaving you a mess, not just likes, he loves leaving you a mess like this. "that pretty mouth's great for fillin', ain't it? always chattin' shit, just gotta stuff it full of me." ben knows he can get away with it since your mouth's a little preoccupied with sucking him off.

all you can do, really, is look up at him with wide, watery eyes. your jaw lax with the intrusion of him between your lips, hands grasping loosely at his legs as best as you can to make sure you don't end up falling over.

"a little deeper," growling, he grasps at the back of your head once more and tugs you further along his dick. the gagging sound has him groaning, hips rutting up against your face instinctively afterwards. "suckin' the fuckin' life outta' me," despite how rough he is in practically fucking your face, he's soft, in a way.

this is ben, he isn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows, but he's always in awe of how well you do for him—every single time. and he makes you feel perfect afterwards, he'd rather die than leave you unfulfilled.

"doing so good," he tells you, voice breathy, low with his arousal and how worked up he's getting right now. he swallows thickly, glancing down at you, "feel so fucking good, that mouth, shit.."

"mmh?" you mumble around him, eyes lifting back up to his again as your breathing picks up a little. every little bit of encouragement from him meant a lot, because you knew he meant it. he really does.

"yeah, yeah.." ben's head falls back with a groan, his hips picking up pace and thrusting into your mouth a little more rhythmically now. you can feel he's getting closer now, from how his grip on your head tightens and his sounds become more and more frequent. "you're gonna make me—fuck, fuck, come off for me, there we go, fuckin' warm mouth, nice and warm for me. made for me, huh? say it, wanna hear you fuckin' say it."

ben's hand quickly wraps around his cock, his grip tight as he starts pumping it quickly, thumb brushing against his slit occasionally—only tensing his thighs even more. "made for you," you mumble instinctively, batting your eyelashes as you adjust to the loss of him in your mouth.

"what's made for me? huh? c'mon," ben pats your cheek with his free hand, his other still moving up and down himself in quickening paces. his brows raise, gaze turning expectant as he looks down at you.

"my mouth," you tell him, tone a little whiny. he's smirking, that stupidly attractive smirk, as he hears that. "my mouth was made for you," and he really believes it too, 'cause you take him so damn well every single time.

"that's it, you learn so well, hm?" ben coos, condescension in his tone as he speaks. it's all loving, really, but he's not exactly thinking much with his heart here as much as he's thinking with his dick. especially right now, as the pressure tightens in his abdomen, the movements of his hand growing less controlled and more jerky. "you ready for me, baby? for me to come all over that face? those glasses? god, those glasses. c'mon, tongue out. there we go, that's it.. there's that mouth i love, huh?"

he's practically babbling right now, his eyes squeezing shut. your tongue stuck out for him, waiting and ready, has him pumping his hand faster till his thighs start trembling, thick white ropes of cum spurting from his throbbing, aching tip landing in globs on your glasses, cheeks, tongue. you look so good like that, and he tells you, "that's a pretty picture, ain't it? might take a photo of that, mmh?" his head tilts to the side a little bit. the whine you let out in response makes him laugh, the corners of his lips tugging upwards at the corners.

"open your eyes," ben coaxes, thumb brushing against your cheek and pushing a little bit so your eyes open. he hums, "there you are," he lets out a gruff laugh, "can't see, can you?" you shake your head in response, swallowing thickly. your gaze is all blurry, without the glasses, not able to see properly. "glasses all messy? let's take 'em off," he eases your glasses off your face, inspecting them all messy with his cum before he looks back at you.

"that's alright," he tells you, placing the glasses down onto the bedside cupboard, before he gets your attention again. "only thing you gotta see is me. just me."

[drabblesandimagines]

Bliss

Leon Kennedy x afab reader When I am on my period, you get period fluff

You wince as your stomach twists, jab the mascara wand into your eye rather than coat your lashes and swear, gripping the bathroom counter with your other hand.

“Great.” You hiss, closing your eye and grabbing a wet wipe, trying to salvage what you’d applied to your bottom lashes as your eye starts to water. The box of so-called express pain relief pills you’d downed greedily 30 minutes ago taunts you from the counter. They had barely touched the surface of the tormenting cramps that had started this afternoon and you wonder if you can sue the pharmaceutical company for such blatant lies.

You try and steady yourself with measured breaths, opening your eye cautiously to inspect it in the mirror. It looks a little red and you groan. You’re bloated, sore, stupidly emotional – irrationally cried at the fact that a spam email had made its way into your actual inbox at lunch - and the last thing you want to be doing right now is getting dolled up in one your classiest and form-fitting little black dresses, don high heels and socialize for the evening, no matter how much you’d been looking forward to it ahead of your visitor.

And not to mention that it’s at the bloody White House.

Leon had returned from Spain two months ago to silent fanfare - wouldn’t be good for US morale to know the President’s daughter had been kidnapped by a cult and infected with a parasite in the first place. Working as an intelligence agent for the DSO meant you’d read of the horrors from the report, comforted Leon when he awoke from nightmares of blackened veins, tentacles bursting forth from skulls, so you’re grateful that the President insisted Leon was given some time off work, though his first day back was looming on the horizon. Last week, on embossed white card with gold accents, sealed by a wax stamp came the invitation in a cursive hand to one Mr Leon S Kennedy and partner to the Presidential dining room.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door in Leon’s familiar rhythm.

“You nearly ready, sweetheart? I think the car will be here soon.”

“Sorry. Yeah,” you call back, “Final touches.” You turn back to the mirror and grab the mascara wand, cautiously covering your top lashes to even things out before frowning at your complexion. Are you breaking out too? A wave of pain rolls through your stomach once more and you grimace. Maybe you should’ve gone with a heat pad after all, but this dress is snug - it’d look bulky and weird on your stomach and the Secret Service guys will be all over it in the security checks.

You zhuzh up your hair one more time, plaster on a smile and unlock the bathroom door, finding Leon leaning up against the wall opposite. He lets out a low whistle as you emerge, hair falling into his blue eyes, and you duck your head in embarrassment at the attention. Honestly, right now you’d prefer him to look anywhere but at you.

“Hello, beautiful,” he smiles, looking unbelievably handsome in his best suit. He’s forgone the tie as usual – can’t stand them – but still looks appropriately smart. He stands up from the wall, slips a hand around your waist to pull you in for a kiss but you flinch at his touch, causing him to stop and frown. “You okay?”

“Mm, I’m fine.” You try and step out of his grip to head towards the stairs. “We should go keep an eye out for the car.”

His arm remains firmly in place. “You’re a bad liar.”

“I’m a great liar,” you retort. “Comes with the profession.” Your whole job depended on it, really – gathering intelligence was a lot of charming people into feeling comfortable around you, loosening their tongue into sharing secrets or giving you access to places you’re not meant to be.

“Not to me.” He’s got you there. “What’s the matter?”

You sigh, feeling a headache coming on to add to the list of ailments. “Can we leave it, please?”

“I don’t want to leave it – something’s wrong.” Leon is stubborn, doesn’t like to leave things hanging. He knows how precious life is, doesn’t want to leave anything to be dealt with later in case later never comes.

He stares at you - pout on his lips and those blue puppy dog eyes.

“Period.” You mumble, hoping that would suffice.

“Ah.” He nods.

“What does that mean?” You know it’s the hormones talking, even as you say it, but you’re stubborn too. It’s completely irrational, but his tone’s rubbed you the wrong way.

“It’s a sympathetic ah. Anything I can do to help?”

“No,” you grumble back. “I just want this evening over with.”

He looks confused, then. “I thought you were looking forward to it - you were excited yesterday-”

“I was,” you snap back. “But now the last thing I want to be doing is wearing this stupid tight dress and heels and get in a limo, be felt up by Secret Service agents for five minutes to make sure I’m not sneaking in a bomb between my thighs, and then go and dine with the President of the United States and his daughter, trying to remember what seven different types of silverware are meant for what course and then eating tiny bites and drinking bitter expensive wine, all when I could be at home, in my pyjamas, eating pizza and ice-cream and watching absolute trash on TV, cuddling my boyfriend.”

“Okay.” Leon cups your face. “Breathe.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a little winded from your rant.

“Good.” He smiles, dropping his hands and pulling his phone out of his trousers pocket. “Now, go get changed.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Sorry?”

“Get changed – go put your pyjamas on.”

“But dinner-”

“I’ll cancel, and then I’ll order us some pizza.”

You stare at him as if he’s lost his mind. “You can’t cancel on the President.”

“I rescued his daughter, he owes me.” Leon shrugs, as if he was just asking for a raincheck. “Besides, it’s Ashley who wanted this the most. We’ll reschedule.”

“No, I just need to tough it out.”

He raises an eyebrow at your word choice. “You do not.”

“You do it all the time – dragging yourself about the place with bullet and stab wounds.”

“Sweetheart, you have to agree that’s a little different. Us having dinner at the White House is not a life or death situation. I didn’t have a choice but to grit my teeth and get on with it, you very much do.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight. “Besides, you put up with enough that’s out of our control by these guys – missed anniversaries, birthdays, dinners - when they send me out on missions. I’m not going to sit and make you go through an uncomfortable evening when you don’t need or want to.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, quietly.

“Positive.” He steps forwards, gives you a chaste kiss on the lips in reassurance. “Go and get comfortable – I’ll handle it.”

--

30 minutes later, you’re laying on the couch, head in Leon’s lap as he runs his fingers through your hair, another rubbing your back – dressed in loose pyjama shorts and one of his old sweatshirts, a hot water bottle that he’d made pressed against your stomach and one of those “so bad it’s good” reality relationship shows playing on the widescreen. One that Leon insists he detests, but remembers everyone’s names and asks what happened on previous episodes if he misses one.

“Was Ashley okay?”

“Fine. She’s already texted me three alternate dates.” He pauses, raising an eyebrow at the screen. “I thought they broke up.”

“Uh-uh. He proposed.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “This cannot be real.”

You sigh, content, and nuzzle into his thigh. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

The doorbell rings, announcing the pizza’s arrival. You reluctantly sit up, pressing the hot water bottle to your stomach as Leon gets up off the sofa and starts to head towards the door.

“Leon.”

“Mm?” He pauses, turning slightly, removing his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“How come you’re still in your suit?”

“Well,” he resumes walking to the door, “I read how endorphins can help with period pain, and I know how happy a certain someone gets when they get to admire my ass in this particular suit…” The wallet slips from his fingers, bounces on the carpeted floor, and he bends down, slowly. “..so what kinda boyfriend would I be to hide it in sweats when they’re feeling poorly?”

--

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[storiesfromafan]

Return - Buck x Reader

A/N: I have posted a story just about every day, so I had to keep it up for today. I return with the last part, which has a happy ending haha.

I've been thinking of doing a full story or a series of one-shots with the reader being one of the crew that works on the planes, and of course paired with Buck haha. See how I go...

Previous Parts: Pt 1 Rumours, Pt 2 MIA

Tag list: @strayrockette @redwitchbitch1

Being a prisoner of war was not something Buck had wanted, but he would take it over death. Though it felt like death at times. Yet it put a lot of things into perspective. What would be common necessaries, were a luxury now. Taking food for granted. Or having a conversation with someone he would avoid or them avoiding him, now something he longed for. Such as a conversation with you.

It was funny how you came to mind a fair bit since he was brought here. And Marge was an afterthought. Buck spent his sleepless nights thinking, and with it he started to realise how he felt for you. How he longed for your smile and company. How he racked his memories of you, trying to recall your eyes, your lips and your warmth. When he did sleep he dreamt of you, those dreams sometimes a reflection on memories together.

Yet guilt crept up on him, slowly eating its way at him. For he should be longing for his fiancé, the women he made a promise to before leaving for this war. And in a way he did, but no were as near as he did of you. The internal battle he was having was taking its toll. Buck felt drained and exhausted, but that was also due to the conditions of living in the camp.

But hope perked up in him. It was the day a bunch of new captured men were brought into camp. Standing around with the few men he had allied with, the call of Bucky caught his ears but he didn’t think much of it. But when it gained more men calling Bucky did hope rise in Buck. Pushing his way to the fence, hearing his friend ask where he was, Buck smiled.

“John Egan. Your two o’clock” he called, Bucky turning around without a second thought. “what took you so long?” Buck's smile widening, relief to see his friend.

Seeing Buck, it gave Bucky not only relief his friend was a live, but a sense they could make it out of here alive. Upon reuniting on the inside together, Buck wasted no time showing Bucky around, explaining it all to him. How he got there, what it’s like, how things were done and how they did things. Bucky was brought in without a second thought, and their time there was hard, exhausting and it messed with his mind, along with every other man there.

There were ups and downs. But one thing that kept them going was the will to get out and back home, along with the mail they could get. Today’s mail came in and to Buck's surprise, he had gotten a letter from Marge. Of course Bucky made a comment, saying Marge in a drawl and small chuckle. Buck forced a small chuckle, not always enjoying his friends jest.

Staring at the letter in his hand, that guilt like led in the pit of his stomach came back. Part of him would rather this letter be from you. In your delicate cursive. Words relaying your thoughts and feelings, your wishes of safety and return. But he wasn’t so lucky. Deciding it was time to see what Marge had to say, Buck opened the envelope and pulled out the few sheets of paper. Taking a seat on the bottom of the bunk, Buck read over the words. With every word, his brow furrows.

The last few sentences are what cleared up this letter, a dear John letter. I’m not sure what to say Buck. Since you’ve left it’s been hard, I’ve been struggling. And I did my best, writing you and holding hope. But the last five months I have been seeing another man, and my affections have grown for him. Please understand and forgive me, I can’t marry you when you return. It finished with wishing him well and to accept her apologies. Enclosed, Marge had put the ring he’d given her.

“What does Marge have to say?” Questioned Bucky with a smile. “How much she misses you and can’t wait till your home?”

Buck sat there quiet for a moment, looking at the ring. And as much as he should be devastated, a part of him was sad, yet he felt relief. That guilt lifting a good amount. Marge had spared him from breaking her heart, by her thinking she’d break his.

“Actually, she said she met someone else and has feelings for them" Buck said calmly. “She apologized and returned the ring". Between his thumb and pointer was the ring, showing it off to the men around him.

The room fell silent. No man knew what to say to that. What could they say? Other then apologise themselves, and tell him there were plenty of fish in the sea? For Buck, there was only one fish he wanted. And she had pushed him away.

“I guess that means you can pursue (Y/N) without any worry or guilt now" Bucky stated, breaking the silence.

Buck's eyes shot to his friend, seeing the knowing smile upon Bucky's face. He wondered what his friend knew exactly. As Buck thought he'd been smart and kept up a good poker face.

Getting up, Bucky crossed the room before taking a seat next to Buck. “You don't think I didn't notice you both getting close back on base? And when the rumours started, she distanced herself. So I figured her affections for you” Bucky stated matter-of-fact. “Then when you came back from talking to her, you looked pretty down. Factor in Marge just dumping you, and you're not as upset as you should be, I know how you feel back (Y/N)”.

Bucky smiled at the surprised face on his friend. Buck was stumped by the words just spoken to him. Amazed that Bucky could read him like he did. Moving to encase the ring in his palm, Buck folded the letter and put it back in the envelop. Followed by the ring, and in his pocket it went.

“She said to forget our talk happened...” Buck said softly.

Clapping Buck on the arm gently, Bucky said “I doubt that. If you'd seen how upset she was after hearing your plane had gone down...” Flashbacks ran across Bucky's mind, of you but also of himself and how you both handled the news.

Now Buck was invested, looking to the man beside him with concern. “H-how was she?”

Bucky sighed. “I was the one to tell her, just as she came out from working on the injured men. She looked so tired, and I...I had to burst her bubble. I could see...how devastated she was. I had to help her take a seat before she fell over".

Buck took a deep breathe, before shakily let it out.

“Also, I had to escort her back to her room too, so she could clean up. I know she cried, and had been for some time...as she found me later” – Bucky deciding to leave out his drinking – “well, I could see that she had been. We spent most of the night talking. I told her so many stories" he chuckled.

Buck softly laughed. “Hopefully nothing embarrassing about me".

Bucky laughed, “all the embarrassing ones".

Silence fell between them both. Various men in the room had either left or were busying themselves, not wanting to intrude on the moment. Buck's mind reeling from knowing that his plane going down, how you thought him dead, had upset you so. His chest hurting at the thought of you crying for him. But he hoped somehow news got back, and you knew he, and Bucky, were alive and were in a camp.

A small smile formed on Buck’s lips. “Why doesn’t that surprise me. You always did like to broadcast my worst moments".

It eased a bit of the sad tension. From there the conversation shifted to other matters. But in the back of Buck’s mind was you. And the renewed fire to get out of this camp and back to base, to see you and tell you everything.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. And you were still doing your part at the base. All the while wondering what happened to both Buck's. At first you were upset loosing them both, for days you were beside yourself over it. Then when you went back to working, you couldn’t help the tears that would come at random times, or when you were patching up and looking after the injured. But everyone understood, for they had been where you were.

Then you had a sliver of hope when there was rumours both Buck’s were in a POW camp. But without any solid proof, you were back to square one. Pilots came and go, either on their own accord or in a box. The amount of death was starting to get to you. Feeling a piece of you chip away with every man that didn’t make it. But you were hanging in the best you could, the need to do your part for the war drilled into you.

Periodically over eighteen months, the nurses that started the rumours warmed up to you, or guilt was eating at them. Trying to get you to join them in town for drinks, or the celebrations of the pilots. And you should have gone, to blow off some steam from all the work you had been doing. But you chose to remain separate from them all. Taking solace in the solitude. And with that reflecting on the happy memories with the two majors. A memory you were fond of was the celebrations where Bucky got up, after Buck trying to keep him in check, to sing and dance.

~~~~~

You laughed at the Major while remaining in the seat next to Buck, who was shaking his head while trying to hide a smile. Bucky was cocky, putting on a show for all. But when he turned his sights on you, you wish you could have made a run for it. Before you knew what was happening, Bucky had crossed back over to you, taking a hold of your hands and pulled you up.

“What are you doing Bucky?” You recall Buck questioning the dark haired male that had a hold of you.

“No pretty young woman should be sitting" Bucky retorted. “So, I’m going to dance with (Y/N). As you’re so true to Marge. Who would be understanding if you danced with a friend. But I’ll do it".

With that Bucky dragged you to the dance floor. In a fluster you recall telling him you were a bad dancer, but he was a good sport. And danced with you none the less. You’d never laughed so much, even when making a mistake. Bucky’s kind and funny words put you at ease. And before you knew it, he had you moving around the dance floor with a small ounce of grace.

You looked over to Buck, you cheeks hurting from the smile on your face. He was watching you both, a small smile upon his face. His eyes shining with warmth and laughter. You rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Which got Buck to softly laugh. You liked his eyes on you, enjoyed being his focus.

“Now, now" tutted Bucky. “I'm your dance partner, focus on me please”. His tone was light and playful.

You turned your focus back to Bucky, who said a quick good before sweeping you around the room some more. The Major was nice and playful, and a part of you could tell he was trying to flirt with you. But you didn't take his advances. And Bucky wasn't too hurt, in fact he knew he had a friend in you from it. The first women to turn his charms down.

Finally getting free of Bucky and his need to be himself. You returned to Buck in a laugh, as you fell into the seat next to him. You were warm from the dancing, and slightly out of breath. Buck looked at you with amusement.

“Don't say a word" you said with a sigh. “I didn't get a choice, Bucky held me captive!”

Buck laughed, his voice tickling your ears by how rough it was. “That's John" was all he said.

“Yes, as I have just learned" you laughed. “Was what Bucky said true? How you don't dance with any women because of your fiancé?”

He nodded. “Yes, she's the one and only".

You felt a little jealous of this woman. A woman who could get a man to be faithful to her, and doing so during a war. You envied her for having a good man like Buck. That was when you started to have a crush on him.

~~~~~

It was a surprise when the number of injured lessened through your doors. And in time you understood why. It looked like the War was coming to an end, which meant soon you'd be home. And all this would be a distant memory. You sighed with that knowledge. And slowly, you and the other nurses began to clean up and pack up what wasn't needed so much.

Yet there was a commotion outside – men calling out names and vehicles -  that grabbed yours and the nurses attention. They took off, while you stayed to finish what you were doing. You had an idea it had to be returning men from the POW camps. The noise outside didn't seem to die down. So once you were done, you decided to see what the fuss was about.

Stepping outside you could see the men crowding around, happy and joyous for those that had made it back. Grateful for more men to be alive then lost out there. Whipping your hands on your apron, you looked around. Part of you hoping to see either or both of the Buck's. And then you spotted one.

He looked relieved, yet exhausted, with faint bruises and cuts. His dark hair was messy from either his hat or the ride back into base. A small amount of comfort coming to you upon seeing Bucky. Yet, that pit in your stomach was back, at no sign of Buck.

As if sensing your gaze, Bucky turned in your direction. Taking a moment for him to register your form from the crowd. A bright smile crossed his devilish face, before he left the men he had been talking too and came right over to you. Without a thought, Bucky pulled you into a tight hug. Which you smiled upon feeling that he was actually there. A few tears rising in your eyes, a tear or two escaping and making their way down your cheeks.

You pulled back and looked over Bucky's face and torso. “You're really back, and in one piece".

He laughed and nodded. “Yeah I am. Should see the other guys".

You laughed, a real laugh in what felt for like forever. “I could imagine". Then you grew quiet, wanting to ask the question that was sitting on your tongue. Was Buck with you?

Bucky looked off to the side, a small humorous smile sliding across his lips. “I think someone wants to say hello...”

Confusion washed over your face at his words. But when he released you, turning you in the direction he had been looking, you got your answer. A couple of meters away was Buck. And he didn't look any different to what you remembered. Minus the exhaustion, need of three balanced meals for a while, and scars on his cheeks. Finally that pit in your stomach filled, finally having him back, you felt relieved.

Having laid eyes on you as Bucky held you at arms length, you both swapping words. The smile on your face warming Buck, glad to know you were glad to see his friend. And this was the moment Buck suddenly didn't know what he would say to you, let alone how you would react to seeing him.

When Bucky noticed him, he smiled before looking back to you. And before Buck knew what was happening, you were facing him. Recognition flashed in your eyes, and then he watched how you seemed to relax. He could tell you were relieved he was back, that they were both back.

Before he could stop himself, Buck took a step forward. Then another and another, slowly at first. Until he couldn't wait any longer, and with a blink he was standing before you. He looked down at you, while you looked up at him, only a ruler size gap between you both. Now up close, Buck noted how pale you looked and tired you seemed. But you were still strong. You just needed a good night sleep, and until the War was officially over, you would have to wait.

Buck cleared his throat. “Hi...” was the best he could start with.

You released the breath you were holding, it coming out shakily. “H-hi...”

All the words he wanted to say, none would make it to his tongue for him to say. So Buck did the only thing he could do. Grabbing your arms, Buck pulled you to him, against him. His arms coming to wrap around you as he held you closely. He had imagined this moment, longed for it. And finally it was real, you before him and him holding you dearly. Resting his cheek against your head, Buck let out a sigh in content. Finally feeling repose, feeling safe.

You were shocked. Not believing Buck was hugging you, holding you tightly like a life line. Buck had never looked at another woman, let one got this close. Yet he had instigated this. Confusion filled you. Unsure what was happening. Maybe he was glad to see a friendly face after what he must have gone through.

“I am so happy to see you" Buck whispered, wanting just you to hear him. “How I have waited for this moment...”

You pulled back, looking at his face with sadness. “Don't say that...don't say what you don't mean...”

Leaning in, Buck pressed his forehead against your own. “I wouldn't have said it, if I didn't mean it...and I meant every word of it (Y/N)”.

Your stomach fluttered at his admission, as well as hearing your name leaving his lips. Lips you wanted so badly to kiss. Even after so much time apart. “W-what about Marge?” You questioned softly.

Buck sighed. Taking a moment to sort through his thoughts before voicing them. “Well...you see, she wrote me while I was...you know. And she has met someone else...so she returned my ring". To prove a point, Buck pulled out the engagement ring. “So, I guess I'm unattached".

As his words, and the ring, sunk in you slowly nodded your head. “Oh...I-I’m so sorry Buck".

He softly groaned hearing his nickname slip from your lips. It was music to his ears, and spurred him on for what was to come. “Don't be, because I can now do this".

Swiftly he moved in, lips capturing your own in a tender, but passionate kiss. Surprised was an understatement. For Major Gale ‘Buck’ Cleven was kissing you, and in front of anyone who looked. Yet, part of you didn't care. You began to relax, eyes closing as you took in that you were kissing the one person you had wanted to see since his plane went down. The person you missed terribly, and spent nights crying for. For the person you prayed for to return to you. And he did.

Reluctantly Buck pulled back, his forehead resting against yours again. He watched as you slowly opened your eyes, a glossed over look in them. When your eyes met his baby blues, he hoped you could see everything he wanted you to know in them. Because he could see it in yours; the joy, longing and contentment.

“Buck...” you said so soft, that he could just hear it. “W-why did you do that?”

He chuckled deeply. “Ain't it obvious?”  you slightly shook your head. “I am crazy about you. Have been for longer then I could admit. I love you (Y/N)”.

Those words, all of them, set your heart soaring. As tears of joy rose in your eyes. This is what you had hoped for upon Buck’s return. You had wanted him to return your feelings, and sweep you off your feet. You got half of your wish. Maybe, if you marry, you'd finally be swept off your feet.

You sighed happily. “I love you so much Gale". And you leant in for another kiss. This one longer then the last. Which neither of you were against. Finally he had come back to you.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary: a siren attack is already unfortunate, but it's worse if it also reveals some truths about your insufferable crew mate

pairing: pirate! hawks x gn! pirate! reader

warnings: just a silly drabble to get back into writing and exorcise some of my hawks brainrot; a little suggestive at the end

general masterlist || bnha masterlist

Getting stuck on the same ship as Takami Keigo was one of life’s most torturous challenges. At least for you. He was obnoxiously arrogant and, much to your chagrin, people flocked to him like seagulls to a forgotten loaf of bread. 

Sure, your fellow pirate was quite easy on the eyes and rather charming when he wanted to be;  a truth you would only ever admit in the comfort of your own head, lest you inflate his ego even further. Instead, you rather grumbled to yourself, cursing his name for getting to sit pretty in the crow’s nest while you sat on deck and mended a torn net.

“Having fun down there?” If the devil ever spoke to you, you were sure he would mimic the grating lilt of Keigo’s melodic voice. “You know, I’m pretty sure a whale could swim through the holes you’re leaving.”

He was your crew mate, he was an essential part of the expedition, you couldn’t just shoot him down. 

“At least one of us is doing their job,” you deadpanned, not even giving him the satisfaction to look up. “You know, I think an island could sneak up on us with how distracted you are.”

“Oh you think you’re distracting me?” Even with your eyes trained on the cords in your hands, you could picture the cocky tilt of his head, a dashing grin playing around his lips. “Is that the kind of effect you want to have on me?”

“You’re the one who’s always coming up to bother me, so if anything you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.” If this conversation went on for any longer, your medic would have to patch up a popped vein on your part.

“Ah there is that wishful thinking again,” he laughed and this time you glared up at his silhouette standing out against the blinding sun. As always, he wore loose beige pants and the top buttons of his black shirt were undone, showing more of his toned chest than you needed to see. His black boots were propped up against the nest’s railing and the crimson head scarf fluttering in the breeze matched the earring dangling from his left lobe.

Just as you were about to retort, another shadow against the sun caught your attention. Drawing your pistol, you undid the safety, alerting the rest of the crew that there was something coming.

But before you could see what exactly was approaching, you suddenly lost your balance as the ship developed a heavy list. Grabbing onto the mast of the crow’s nest, you managed to steady yourself, yet the impact knocked the revolver from your grip. As you looked up, the first thing you saw was the massive cliffs your ship was heading towards, sharp rocks littering the waters, waiting to demolish its wooden bottom. 

Then your eyes locked on to the crew’s navigator, whose head lulled from one side to the other as he firmly steered you towards your demise. Next to him, holding his attention, was a beautiful woman sweetly tracing a finger along his jaw as she sang to him. As a feather drifted past your eyes, it suddenly hit you what -or who- exactly you were dealing with.

“Cover your ears!” You shouted to no one in particular as you scrambled for the wax you had stuffed into your pocket. With your hearing muffled, your own heartbeat raced in your ears as you dove for your pistol and breathlessly aimed for the siren attached to your navigator, who by now was half way towards the ship’s railing, his feet dragging underneath him as the woman lured him further towards the water.

You weren’t sure if your bullet was enough to actually kill the siren but upon impact it dissolved into a burst of feathers and released its hold on your crew mate, who dazedly blinked as he tried to regain his senses.

The next few minutes were a blur of talons, feathers and pulling your crew back from the ship’s edge, even tying some of them to the masts to make sure they wouldn’t try to kill themselves again.

Soon enough, however, you were out of bullets and you reluctantly drew the dagger previously secured to your thigh, scanning the area for more sirens when someone tapped your shoulder. Whirling around you slashed your dagger in an arc around you, only to find Keigo standing in front of you, holding up his hands innocently. There was an easy going smile on his face as he said something you couldn’t understand, so you removed one of the wax beads restricting your hearing.

And that was your mistake.

Only a few heartbeats after his velvety voice reached your ears, your dagger clattered onto the deck as Keigo reached out to unplug your other ear as well, his fingers grazing your cheek with nails much sharper than you expected. You wondered if his lips would be as plush as you imagined them to be or if his hair would be as soft as it looked when you buried your fingers in it.

His amber eyes were trained entirely on you as he gave you a coy gaze, inviting you to take another step towards him, to find out for yourself, to sate your curiosity. Likewise, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him either as your feet followed his graceful movements, the light reflecting of his golden hair like a halo, the crimson wings on his back completing his angelic appearance—

Then, Keigo dissolved into a burst of those same scarlet feathers as two sharp swords sliced through his torso. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it when the same face came back into view again.

With full force, the noise of the ship reached you again and you staggered backwards at the sudden onslaught of stimuli. Around you, the crew was running around, untying people and frantically steering the ship back onto the right course as you raced to regain your bearings, disoriented by the orders being bellowed around you.

“That should be the last of them,” Keigo ripped you from your daze, his voice clearer as the sea as he sheathed his swords again. “Nasty creatures, those sirens. Though I guess this one was a handsome fellow, considering you were dazedly mumbling my name on your way overboard.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line when your brain caught up to your current situation. Perhaps the siren had been taken care off, yet you were still tempted to throw yourself head first over the railing. Justifiably so, you thought when your eyes darted to the man’s face long enough to confirm the self-satisfied expression he was wearing.

“I am quite flattered really,” he mused, one hand reaching out to tilt your face up so you’d meet his eyes as he stepped closer to you. For a split-second, the thought that it was still a siren in front of you crossed your mind. “To think that a siren would choose to wear my face in an effort to seduce you… now isn’t that quite the compliment?”

“Just… shut up and let me die in peace, would you?” You rolled your eyes, ready to retreat into your little cabin and try to grapple with your near-death experience, this confrontation included. If only the rocky spikes had ripped open the bottom of the ship, you could sink to the sea floor in quiet solitude.

“No no no, why would you do that when you can stay right here with me? C’mon just see it as my reward for saving your precious life, treasure.” He sent you a cheeky wink, drawing your attention to the sharp slant of his eyes and your heart, the treacherous thing, skipped a beat. 

“Is your idea of a reward torturing me further? Or what could you possibly get out of this?” Your shoulders sacked with your sigh, resigning to your defeat. 

“What I’m getting out of this? It’s quite obvious isn’t it?” Slinging an arm around your hanging shoulders, Keigo pulled you flush to his side. Warmth and the scent of salt mixed with something woodsy radiated off of him and you could admit this wasn’t the worst position to be in. “Believe it or not, I do enjoy your company.”

“That is hard to believe, you’re right.” You cocked your head in suspicion. “Normally you do everything to get under my skin, so what changed?”

“Hmm, I wonder why that is,” Keigo’s melodic timbre lilted before transitioning into his typical pearly laughter. Then, as if sharing a secret, he leant down so his lips were dangerously close to your ear, his voice dropping low. “You know, you weren’t the only one visited by a siren. As tempting as that version of you looked, I must say I prefer the real deal.

“Do you think I could get you to sing for me as well?”

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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[baldurs-gape]

Worry Worms

A little shared fact about the party was that the worms were in communication with each other. Even with the Emperor's protection, the group were bound in a way, their worms connected to each other. Sometimes it was awkward, other times funny and sometimes frustrating. Yet the worst were the moments where flashes of the past and the pain it held flashed through the group.

The first signs of a shared existence were the pang of hunger. It wasn't obvious to start with, everyone migrated to the supply packs for snacks and ate with more gusto. Yet the hunger was left unsated. Bickering turned to annoyed disagreements and huffy sulks. Lae'zel refused to even look at Shadowheart over the simple fact that the berries they'd had stashed away were now mixed with nuts.

"Perhaps we ought to ask Astarion to feed?" Wyll muttered to Karlach quietly. "It's driving me insane."

"Urgh, yes. I can't eat another mouthful but I'm still starving. Is this what being a vampire is like?"

"Like what?" Astarion sauntered up to them, thumb rubbing at the corner of his mouth as though wiping away the last dribbles of blood after feeding.

An awkward silence held them all in suspense until Wyll cleared his throat. "This hunger. Is this your day to day experience?"

Of all the thing they expected, an honest laugh was not on the list. Astarion wasn't even mocking them, he was genuinely tickled by the question.

"Darling, this hunger isn't mine. It has been dogging me as much as you by the sounds of it."

Which just left one real suspect. The one who had been most graceful at handling the sudden affliction. That evening Gale sheepishly admitted to his affliction. Once he'd consumed a locket, the hunger faded from all their minds.

If only things could be as simple. For a while it seemed like it was. The weather was gorgeous, sun bright and hot. It burned fiercely as they wandered along their path. Armour was slowly stripped, so were clothes where possible. Any stream they crossed, most of them dipped into it with sighs of relief.

"It's hot as the hells themselves." Wyll was neck deep in a clear pool, eyes closed and head tipped back.

Looking around at the various states of undress and sweatiness, Karlach gnawed at her bottom lip.

"Literally. The old engine's been getting a bit too much. My bad."

"This is your doing?" Astarion whirled to look at her. "I haven't felt like this in two hundred years!" Despite not sweating like the others, his hair looked a little lacklustre and flat compared to its usual near-perfection.

"As I said-"

"Don't. I've missed this. Don't change."

Karlach's mouth snapped shut as she nodded and made a mental note to maybe linger closer to Astarion on nights where he looked more cold and alone.

Their adventures carried on. They bore the shared echoes of neck pain and head aches as Wyll got used to his new horns. Gale's mage hand was perfect to for those who preferred not to be touched and Karlach was more than happy to put her rather warm hands to good use too. Given her own horn, she was all too familiar with what muscles could cramp and hurt. Wyll was especially grateful for such knowledge.

Along the way they collected Halsin who was more than happy to tag along on the quest. Nobody was tactless enough to mention how he and Astarion gravitated towards each other, circling in tighter and tigther circles. They all pretended to believe Halsin's reasons were purely altruistic and maybe with a small amount of desire to learn. Nor did anyone mention that Astarion's tent had a tendency to be set up and then abandoned as he spent nights in Halsin's. It was a small comfort and they all knew they needed as much of that as they could get.

Nights tended to be rather monotonous. Once dinner had been eaten, they all drifted off to their respective tents for rest. Sleep came easy enough, so did the nightmares. Flashes of pain and terror. Revulsion and depseration. Hopelessness that hollowed out everything which was only filled by fear tamped rage. Lae'zel was the first to wake, cursing Shar and all she made her followers endure. Determined to wake Shadowheart, she left her tent. Only, Shadowheart was already by the dwindling fire, haggard and scratching at her back.

"Is this not the doing of your goddess?"

"She's much more thorough in taking the memories." The disdain in Shadowheart's voice was a blanket to hide her own discomfort. While awake, the flashes from the worm were no less distressing but the light of the fire helped a little.

"So who-"

Gale stumbled out of his tent and retched as a particularly sordid kind of pain echoed through them all. They all shivered in unison at it.

"We need to wake him." Even as he spoke, the worm allowed more memories to play out in their minds. "He wouldn't want us to know this."

"I don't want to know this," Karlach's voice joined. Next to her, Wyll looked harrowed.

As one they traipsed to the edge of camp where Halsin's tent had been set up. He was dozing, curled around Astarion with a smile on his lips.

"Hush, he's finally trancing." Warm pride made Halsin's words drip with affection. "Said he'd not done it since before being turned."

"With good reason. Wake him up." Wyll winced as new pains from relieved memories curled through him.

Resisting, Halsin watched the group and pulled Astarion into a protective embrace. The broke 'please' from Gale was what did it in the end.

It didn't take much more than a gentle brush of lips to his forehead and Astarion blinked awake. His worm silenced but not before a flash of panic could be felt by all as he stared up at the gathered group.

"I know I'm in high demand, but could we keep it to one or two at a time so I can make sure you all have a good time?"

If only it had been a joke. Before it would have been taken as one. Now though, the truth of his fawning in face of fear was all too easy to see.

"We just-" Gale seemed at a loss for words.

"They wanted to wish you a good night," Halsin helped out, even though he still wasn't quite sure what was going on. "And to make sure you're okay."

Tight blankness smoothed out Astarion's expression. He knew the others saw the memories his trance he brought to life. "Was I-" breaking off, he steeled himself, "Did I make noise to wake you all?"

"You were very peaceful, little heart." Halsin smiled at him and tucked him back against his chest. "Rest some more. I'm sure the rest of this conversation can wait until the morning."

Dismissed, the others filed out of the tent. They didn't sleep easy, kept up by the nightmare fuel of what they'd seen. At least Astarion didn't trance again so no more memories bled through into their shared connection. Come morning, nobody said anything. But if they were a little more gentle with Astarion after that, that was their own business and nobody else's.

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right��� path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

A witchcraft basics doc; update, resource call, interest check, and a possible second doc

Bet most of you didn't even know I was working on this >:D

Yes this is a huge post. It's a lot of things.

So, one of my first posts ever on this blog was me mentioning that a friend of mine had NO clue what they were signing up for when asking for the basics of witchcraft. The google doc I wrote took on a life of its own, and the post did as well when people started asking for it. I still plan to tag said people when I post it, assuming they haven't deactivated. The thing is, this doc had become a proper project, and it took a long time for me to have the motivation to work on it again. Now, though, it seems to me like a damn good way to reconnect to my craft after a rut! (which, by the way, is why I've been offline.)

So, my first post back is for a couple of reasons. For one, if you have any resources you'd think would be useful for beginner witches, feel free to shoot me an ask, DM, or comment/reblog on this post! I'll have a list of things I'm putting in the doc (taking recommendations there as well) at the bottom of this post.

The other thing is that I might end up making a second doc, one that's a little less "101" in vibe. It would have a MAJOR MAJOR UPG warning on it, first off, and I'm not sure whether or not I would be marking any UPG either since this would essentially be a second Grimoire/Book of Shadows for me that would be public to others for the sake of sharing information! I can't say I'd call it "advanced witchcraft" by any means, I'm not very fancy lol, but I don't want the basics doc to get too overwhelming. I do, however, want to scream about random witchcraft topics that interest me. So this is also a bit of an interest check for that, as well as the basics doc.

FINAL NOTE: I fully plan on posting this basics doc before it's done. Some sections will be unwritten or unfinished, because if I wait until I find it "finished" I'll never post it. It's going to be added onto whenever I can, but I feel as though getting it out is the best course of action.

A list of stuff in the doc that I'd take resources on (AKA everything planned in it) with * by anything that will be left unwritten/unfinished on purpose until I know more. I will take resources and recommendations on EVERYTHING though. This is in no particular order:

grounding and centering

VOCAB (intention, intuition, UPG/SPG/VPG, appropriation. probably others I'm forgetting.

candle, plant, crystals and safety* (as well as any other tools one might need safety tips for. This is left completely unwritten as I use very few tools of this type.)

deity work* (the whole debate surrounding when to start, as well as information about it. Will include smth about house rules/boundaries. My work is very casual, I'd love to see different POV's of this! This is by nature left unfinished because deity work is so unique to the witch.)

grimoire/book of shadows

tools of the craft* (common tools and how to use them consumerism in witchcraft, etc.)

cleansing

appropriation* (I don't know near enough about this, I just check what's in my own practice. I would like this to include a list of commonly appropriated closed practices, a definition of appropriation and why it shouldn't be done, open pantheons, and common open practices.)

spellwork*

meditation

where someone could go from here* (including sigils, tarot, crystals bc my friend likes rocks lol, maybe astrology but oh god I have nothing about that it makes my brain hurt just looking at an astrology chart /pos. I will probably make a list of stuff that I could add in this section.)

casual/daily/quick/low energy practices and witchcraft

paganism and witchcraft; overlap, what they are individually, why one might be for you rather than the other, etc.*

there'd be a credit section for anyone who wants to be credited for links/resources at the end! If you send me resources plz specify if you want to be included in that or not.

Things I might include in the second doc if I make it:

the craft and mental health and my experiences with it

things commonly touched on in the community (your deities don't hate you, cycles of inactivity and burnout, other things I'm forgetting rn)

deity-specific things, more specific topics of the craft, etc. yet another reminder that this would all include UPG, possibly unmarked, because it would basically be primarily used to give me motivation to research more.

[marlynnofmany]

Reaching

Being the tall person at the grocery store is nothing compared to being the tall species on an alien planet. Everybody here was hip-height at best, and my ability to grab things that would normally require a stepstool was very appreciated. I wasn’t the only Big Alien come to visit, since the courier ship was about evenly split size-wise, but I was definitely enjoying it.

Especially since the cargo we were meant to pick up was stored (for some reason) on high shelves.

“That’s everything from this one,” I said to Mur as I grabbed a final dusty crate from head level, bending down to place it on the hoversled. “What’s next?” I straightened up and stretched my back, ready for more.

Mur consulted a list on the communicator he held with one tentacle. “That was the ‘blue alcove.’ Which one’s the ‘round alcove’?”

I rotated in place, looking for round things in the alien barn full of mismatched architecture and empty stalls. The owner had decided to retire and sell their old junk, which meant getting us to deliver it to somebody else’s farm. They were paying extra for us to load it onto the ship ourselves. This farmer was either elderly and infirm, or out of bothers to give. Not that it mattered much either way.

“I see it!” Paint said, pointing a scaly hand upward.

I followed her finger to see a curved opening halfway up the wall. “That’s more of an oval, but everything else is square, so I guess that’s it,” I agreed.

Paint tugged the hoversled over, while Mur sat on top of the boxes with his list. Then they both waited for me, because they certainly couldn’t reach any of it.

“We’re meant to take everything up here, right?” I asked, leaning in to grab a bundle of what looked like hammers strapped together. They were heavy, but not to the point where I was at risk of dropping them on anybody.

“Looks like yes,” Mur said. “Can you get all of it?”

“Mayyybe not,” I admitted. “This alcove is pretty deep.”

“Oh, there’s a ladder!” Paint said, darting away. I was busy straining to reach a roll of wire, so I didn’t see what caused the loud snap. But I did hear her make a disappointed sound.

Mur laughed. “There was a ladder. See any others over there?”

I pulled the wire down and set it on the cart, only then getting a view of Paint guiltily dropping the decrepit piece of wood that had recently been half a ladder. There were two or three pegs sticking out of it, though the rest had stayed with the other half, which appeared to be bolted to the wall.

I winced. “Are we going to have to pay damages for that?”

“Eh, maybe,” Mur said. “Pretty sure the old farmer mentioned a number of things that were destined for the fuel pile anyway. We can let Captain Sunlight ask.”

Paint called over, “I don’t see any others.”

A look back at the near wall showed bolts that might have held a different ladder in place once. “New question,” I said. “What do you see that looks strong enough for me to step on? Because I can just climb up there with a little boost.”

Mur grumbled something about species that were always looking for things to climb. Since this was entirely accurate, I ignored him. Then he said, “Well, I’d suggest stepping on the sled, but it’s full of goods, and the brakes aren’t what they should be.”

“Yeah, no use risking that,” I agreed. “And I don’t need much. I could probably get up there with a running start, but I’d rather not bruise anything today.”

Paint trotted back over. “What about those?” she suggested, pointing out a stack of metal tubs that were probably meant for animal food.

We took a look. Some were rusty and unreliable, and they were all heavy — we had to tip the stack on its side to sort through them. But we found one at the bottom that felt sturdy enough. I probably wouldn’t fall right through it. Probably.

It sure was heavy, though. I dragged it over, leaving a trail through the dirt and alien straw, hoping I wasn’t about to ruin another thing that we’d have to pay for.

I’d just gotten it into position when a new voice asked, “What is taking so long?”

Trrili stood in the doorway, a looming black-and-red menace with mandibles and pincher arms. She looked impatient. She also looked like a giant praying mantis, but she always looked like that.

While Paint explained that the items were hard to reach and the ladder was pursuing an exciting new career as kindling, Trrili stalked over on her many legs. Ignoring me completely, she reared back and easily reached into the back of the alcove. “All of these?” she asked.

“Ah, yup,” I said, stepping to the side.

She pulled back to land with her pincher arms holding a large curved thing that had loops dangling from the sides. “What even is this?” she asked as she dumped it onto the sled.

“Looks like a saddle,” I told her.

She was already back up there, rummaging around with only her hind feet on the ground. “What for?”

I said, “Riding animals, I imagine,” then went to stand uselessly with Paint. We watched as our larger coworker loaded up the rest of the items.

“Why would anyone want to ride an animal?” Trrili asked, placing a segment of pipe between the boxes.

“Not everyone has hovertech,” I said. “And it’s nice when your transportation can watch out for hazards. And appreciate neck scritches.”

Trrili declared the whole idea absurd and unnecessary, fit only for species that got too familiar with their prey. None of this was a surprise to me. I’d heard her opinions on pets before.

But Paint was curious about what it was like to be carried around by a large living thing. Was it frightening? What if the animal went the wrong way? What was the importance of “neck scritches?”

I set about explaining horses to her. I might not be able to reach as far as Trrili, but this was definitely something I could do.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[freesia-writes]

Ch 43: Settling

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.4k

Adele - Make You Feel My Love (Lyrics) (youtube.com)

.

Hunter’s quick knock on Lyra’s door was answered more slowly than usual, and he shifted his weight on the front porch as he ruminated on whether or not he had waited long enough to come. It had been the crack of dawn when he woke from a deep sleep, feeling as bright and springy as he could remember. The hours until his arrival at her home had felt agonizing, but he’d forced himself to wait an appropriate amount of time, knowing that she wasn’t a morning person. 

“Good morning,” she murmured, a bit fuzzy still. 

“Hi.” 

“I have a bone to pick with you.” Her voice was low and calm, but the mischievous glint in her eye gave him pause. She tilted her head, beckoning him to follow, and they walked to the back of the cottage where the morning light streamed through the windows. Hunter noticed that the plant with the little heart-shaped buds was still where he’d left it the night before – unwrapped in the center of her table – only it appeared that some of the blossoms had opened.

“What the kriff…” he muttered, shocked and appalled for a full ten seconds before the look on Lyra’s face began to melt it into humor. “She did not tell me they would do that… I mean, she said they’d bloom… but…”

“I do have some questions,” Lyra giggled, handing him a steaming cup of caf before sitting beside him with her own. 

“I mean… So do I…”

Both of their eyes rested on the plant, where the few largest buds had burst apart, revealing a rather interesting shape dangling out of each one. The bottom of each “heart” had split, curling up to either side, and a decidedly phallic structure poked out the bottom. He now saw that even the flowers that hadn’t yet opened were somewhat… curved… at the bottoms, with a slit up the middle that looked an awful lot like…

“Did you have a certain sentiment in mind when you chose this?” she asked, keeping her face and voice carefully neutral, but he could feel her bursting at the seams. 

“The florist said they’d be a hit…” he said slowly, a grin spreading across his face with each word. How had he not noticed… “I said I wanted something that was beautiful in its simplicity… And she said…” The realization dawned on him, and he buried his forehead in a hand. “She said they bring a smile every time.”

“I can imagine,” Lyra agreed, pressing her lips together in the last remaining shred of solemnity. “And did she share the name of this particular plant? I believe its scientific name might be something along the lines of Penillis Vaginia?”

Hunter coughed behind his hand, dropping it immediately to stare at her in delighted disbelief. “Listen to you!”

“Sorry! I know!” she burst out, clapping her own hand over her mouth. “It’s just… look at those things!” He dissolved into laughter as well, simultaneously embarrassed and elated. It was comforting for the humor to be shared, and he felt closer to her than ever. 

“Yeah… You should probably… I don’t know...” He quieted into a few lingering chuckles, eyes brightening with an impish idea. “Put it on your desk at work.”

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, smacking his arm before leaning into his shoulder. “Can you imagine?!”

“No one would get any work done.” He sighed, resting his cheek on her hair for a moment.

“So… business as usual…” she snickered. 

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

* * * 

The door to the butcher shop swung open so quickly that the little bell hanging from it was flung in a complete loop, but Hunter was deep in a kod’yok carcass and scrambled to clean himself off as best he could, cursing under his breath that he’d forgotten to lock the door. He wiped from his wrists to where his shirt was rolled up on his biceps before grabbing a fresh rag and finishing his hands as best he could. Carefully hanging his apron over the drip tray, he ventured toward the front to see who this enthusiastic guest was. 

“Hunter!” Lyra exclaimed, breathless and red-cheeked. “Did you hear about Hanker?” 

His lip curled in disgust at the name, but aside from that, he kept his expression neutral. “What about him?”

“He’s gone… It’s wild… Apparently he somehow crossed some crime family called the Doran Syndicate? That’s not it… I don’t know, I’m not up to date on the criminal underworld…”

“The Durands?”

“Yeah! That’s it! Of course you’d know,” she laughed, unfazed. “But yeah, so whatever he did, they weren’t happy, and I don’t know the details but it was very clear that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon… or ever.” 

“Huh.”

“Isn’t that exciting? The island is officially perv-free!” she giggled. “I mean, bummer for whatever happened to him, but it looks like he deserved it, so… I know that’s not kind to say… but… damn, I’m just so relieved.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Did you have anything to do with it?” Lyra asked quietly, tilting her head and studying him closely.

“It’s just nice he’s gone.”

They stared at one another.

“Alright,” she said finally, a tiny twinkle in her eyes as she sidled a little closer. “Well, whatever happened, it was quite fortuitous.” She leaned in, reaching to kiss him, but he pulled away and held his arms out to the sides. 

“I’m… a little dirty…” he admitted in response to her questioning glance. 

“I guess I’ll have to get used to it,” Lyra grinned, a slightly sultry expression on her face that stirred butterflies in his stomach. 

* * * 

Lyra clattered around in the kitchen, crafting another one of her culinary masterpieces as Hunter reclined in the cushy armchair after his repeated offers to help had been rejected in favor of him entertaining her with stories of his past. It felt so good for him to open up to her fully, to not have to hide any part of who he was. Some memories still felt tender, and she respected his boundaries, trusting that he would share when ready if he deemed it worth sharing. Other adventures left her mouth hanging open in disbelief, stunned both by his elite soldier heroics as well as his complete nonchalance about seemingly impossible missions. A continual concern was rising in her mind – awareness of the vast differences between them. She mulled it over, torn between his insistence that he was happy to put it all behind them and a suspicion that someone who had lived that kind of life would eventually find her to be mundane and boring. She moved to wash the knife she’d been using, her thoughts miles away as she stared at the water running over the blade. 

“Agh! Damn!” she exclaimed suddenly, jerking her hand back and interrupting some account of hordes of batlike creatures swarming them and their treacherous lizard boss. Hunter was at her side immediately, his hawklike gaze searching the sink.

“Cut yourself?” he asked, brows furrowing at the lack of blood or anything at all out of the ordinary.

“No,” Lyra admitted sheepishly, shaking one hand off to the side. “I got water up my sleeve…. And I hate that.” He chuckled as she stuffed a towel into the fabric, doing her best to dry it from the offending droplets. 

“The whole evening is ruined now, I suppose?” he teased, toying with her waist with a boldness that had been growing so quickly that it surprised him. He leaned against her back, nuzzling his lips against her neck as she inhaled sharply, rooted to the spot. “Maybe we’ll have to find something else to do.”

“Um,” she faltered, swallowing hard and failing to suppress a tiny shiver as his breath tickled her ear. “I suppose I could put a timer on the oven while it…” She lost her words as he pressed a kiss to her pulse, eyes closing and head resting back against him. He could feel her heart rate increasing, a tumult of emotions between the two, and it was disproportionately satisfying to him. It was familiar now for him to recognize his desire for the peaceful life that she offered, and yet there was a new kind of desire beginning to occupy more of his thoughts. 

“It’s okay if you’d rather cook,” he murmured, smiling against her skin as she shook her head slowly. She squirmed around in his arms to face him, sliding her palms up his chest and seeming to appreciate every inch. There was a flicker of something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before, and it sent electricity through his limbs as she spoke. 

“No,” she began tentatively. “I think you may be onto something.” Now it was he who was surprised and delighted as she nudged her nose against his, pausing for a second that seemed to last an eternity before kissing him softly. He didn’t understand how it felt awakening and calming at the same time, but it didn’t matter. His mouth moved slowly against hers, lips sliding against one another, coaxing, enticing… When one of her hands slipped up the back of his neck to bury her fingers in his hair, he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer with the tiniest sigh of contentment. 

She pulled away for a breath, adorably flustered as she rested her hand on his shoulder, the other still on his chest as she nestled in his embrace, feeling his racing heartbeat matching her own. They snuggled together, silent and satisfied… for a moment. 

“Again?” Hunter asked, and Lyra giggled, cupping his face with both hands. He basked in her loving gaze before she kissed him again, flattening herself against his front. His arms remained snug around her, then began to move, palms intently stroking up the middle of her back and roving across her hips. Her body seemed to be waking up more and more, breath quickening as she subtly squirmed against him, her burgeoning passion coaxing out his own hunger. The sigh that fell from her lips stirred him further. His strokes grew heavier. The small of her back. The outside of her arm. The back of her neck. When he slid a hand up the outside of her leg, from thigh to waist, she gasped, separating a few inches. 

“Sorry–” he began, but she shook her head, eyes darkening further as she squeezed his bicep and bit her lip with an incendiary gaze. His body blazed with tingles, and she stepped back, taking his hand and leading him to the couch, where she pushed him down with surprising boldness. When she straddled his legs, settling herself into his lap and burying both fingers in his hair, his head was spinning as quickly as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. 

It was a late dinner that evening.

* * * 

The sun was low in the sky, warm golden light bathing the horizon and reflecting off of the silver-capped waves of the distant sea. Hunter was tucked comfortably into a hammock with Lyra pressed against his side. They’d crammed themselves into the swing, clearly made for one person, and were gently rocking back and forth as the soothing movement lulled them into bliss. Her hand rested on his knee while his fingers traced idle circles on the outside of her arm. It was a balmy evening, leading her to forego the usual sweater in favor of a sleeveless dress, and he relished the softness of her bare skin beneath the rough pads of his fingertips.

“Hunter?” Lyra said softly, rousing him from the stupor he’d been in as he listened to the faraway waves crashing on the shore. 

“Mmm?” Complete contentment.

“Would you… want to stay here?” Halting inquisition. 

“That’s the plan.” Rumbled reassurance.

“No,” she exhaled softly, a fond smile ghosting her face. “Like, here. From now on. I mean, only if Omega would want the cabin to herself, or maybe with Wrecker, or Breslin… I don’t really know… I just… I want you in everything, and just, like, everything with you, and… oof.”

He tilted his head to look at her, taking in her characteristic fluster that had been softened over time by the safety and comfort they had built together. The full realization of her offer reached him like wisps of a cool breeze on a quiet day. 

“In your hammock?” he asked, fighting and failing to keep his face carefully neutral. But she caught the slight shift of tone in his voice and the faintest flicker of a smirk on his face, rolling her head around and nudging him in the side with her elbow. She had equal difficulty repressing her own mirth.

“Yes,” she attempted, slightly too loud and clumsy. “I want you to live in my hammock. I’ll bring you little treats a few times a day and leave a bowl of water out here for you.”

“Didn’t take you for that kind of girl,” he mused, arching an eyebrow. 

“Huh?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed, shrugging and shifting to face her a bit more. As they settled into their previous calm, allowing the playfulness to recede beneath the irresistible tranquility of the evening, the question lingered heavily between them. Hunter mulled it over. It wasn’t heavy like a begrudging burden, but rather heavy like a thick, warm blanket draped over one’s shoulders after a long journey. His mind wandered down the well-worn paths of analysis. Strategy. Assessment. Consideration. 

Then Lyra kissed him on the cheek, turned back to face the ocean, and nestled into his side with a quiet sigh. And suddenly the whirlwind in his mind quieted, giving way to the unassuming yet unshakable conviction deep down. He’d always had strong instincts – he was made that way. But they were molded and honed over the years for his express purpose, stifled and shaped solely to enhance military strategy and combat performance. And yet they remained, in their basest form, a more faithful guide than his mind had ever been. He echoed her sigh, resting into the peace it brought over him, then spoke.

“If you’ll have me.”

.

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[crispywisp]

managed to find a cel and its matching sketch from my favorite scene in lupin iii: farewell to nostradamus (showing the tagalog dub with my translation because it's genuinely great, also "defective" is not a typo, it's lupin's nickname for detective zenigata in this dub lmao)

being able to obtain a cel that i instantly recognized from a movie/scene i love was one of the things on my bucket list, so im extremely happy to have found this!!

more photos and notes about the artwork under the cut:

the cel and sketch came in one packet, i was initially pretty worried because the package didn't have any sort of hard surface like cardboard to prevent it from bending a lot, but fortunately it's in great condition

whoever previously owned this stapled the cel to the sketch (😭), so i was bracing for the cel's paint to be stuck to the paper since it's 20+ years old, but i let out the biggest fucking sigh of relief when i saw that it was miraculously still separated, so i went ahead and carefully removed the staple

back of the cel

close ups of the cel (zenigata's legs are completely cropped out in the final film, a very strong clue that this is authentic)

the cel shows very early stages of vinegar syndrome (slight deterioration on the cel structure, though no wrinkling, and super faint vinegar smell) and has light fading in the lineart, but it's still pretty well preserved for its age (made around 1994 or 1995), this cel will have to be stored separately from the rest of my collection to prevent it from spreading to them

close up on the sketch

back of the sketch, you can see the tiny pieces of paint from the cel stuck on here

this is most likely a key drawing rather than a breakdown or inbetween drawing based on the circle around "13" in the top right corner of the sketch (breakdowns are usually marked by a line underneath the number, inbetweens are usually unmarked); im surprised this cel didn't cost more since it's a really nice key drawing from a feature film, but im guessing it was cheaper since it's zenigata and not the other main cast characters

there is a tiny timing chart near the bottom, i've reached out to my animation lead co-worker to ask if she knows what this indicates since im not very confident in reading timing charts yet haha, will update this note once she gets back to me

EDIT: my co-worker has responded, she said that the timing chart on the sketch is most likely a very simplified version of a quarter timing, here is her note:

some more tiny notes on the sketch, if anyone knows what the japanese notes say, let me know!

EDIT: my co-worker also said that the X's in the sketch most likely indicate that those are empty areas, telling whoever is doing the cleanup to not color in those spots (i had noticed afterwards that there are more X's in other spots that are meant to be empty, so she's definitely on the money)

EDIT: @cultistzenyatta has informed me that the japanese note should read "shirt" シャツ, as in to distinguish between zenigata's coat and shirt sleeve for cleanup to color in

and here's the artwork in their separate storage packets, gonna add them to the portfolio binder :D

(also, im currently creating my own site to showcase my cel and sketch collection all in one place, so i'll make a post about it once it's nearly done 🙂)

[marzipanandminutiae]

she's never going to read this, but it's still interesting

so the person with the extremely cold corset takes last night has now decided that dress history folks are straight-up lying about the purpose of corsets. because we just love them so much, I guess?

she found this ad:

and therefore knows corsets were Totally About Waist Reduction First And Foremost, Always And Forever, Amen

I have. some thoughts.

the main one being that nobody claimed corsets were never used to waist-train back then

the secondary one being that many ads for "form-reducing corsets," at least the ones that I found, make a distinction between "normal" corsets and their product:

It's a specialty product, not what the average woman is wearing on a daily basis. Is its existence messed up? Yes! But nobody has been disputing that pressure on women to look a certain way, and fatphobia, are awful. The issue in question is: was the primary function of an average (in this case Victorian/Edwardian) corset waist reduction? It seems to me that the ad supplied- again, for a specialty garment that was not seen as an ordinary corset -does not prove OP's point.

so let's look at some ordinary corset ads, shall we?

(don't freak out too much about the "baby/child corsets"- I've worked with extant examples many times, and they're just lightly stiffened vests. you couldn't lace a kid down in them if you tried- not that you should, obviously)

(Pliability, elasticity, comfort- but no mention of waist reduction as a selling point)

(this one is an unusual design, but I'm including it because it mentions support- and specifically breast support -not once, but twice. It also instructs ladies to measure their waists OUTSIDE their clothing- which will result in a larger measure even than we commonly use for custom corsets nowadays. note that a 2" lacing gap was common, per a corsetiere quoted in Valerie Steele's The Corset: A Cultural History)

(Flexibility and comfort, yet again.)

(Rather a ridiculous one, including the implication that you need an elegant corset to snare a husband and therefore economic security and love, but the bottom left text says "What an improvement the Madam Warren corset. And how comfortable.")

so we've clearly got comfort, support, and ease of movement at the forefront of the average consumer's mind, for so many ads to mention such thing. a number also don't have much text at all:

(The Celebrated EEE is my hypothetical burlesque name, but I digress.)

of the first twenty random ads that come up when I do an image search for "corset advertisement," eleven mention health and/or comfort, and only one directly mentions waist reduction- while advertising, again, a separate specialty "reducing" corset.

am I saying it never happened? absolutely not. I have NEVER been saying that. tightlacing did happen. obviously reducing corsets existed. I would not deny any of this

am I saying that, clearly, support and comfort were thought so high on the average corset-wearer's priority list that manufacturers played to those attributes more than waist reduction when constructing/advertising corsets, implying that they are NOT, in fact, the same thing as a Kim K waist cincher? yes

(file under: things I cannot believe I have to fucking say, and yet here we are)

[hana-no-seiiki]

This is 💗 anon, your anon is turned off. Please let me stay anonymous. Anywho, I, uh, need Jing Yuan to just use me any way he wants. He needs to spit in my mouth? My tongue is out waiting for it. He tells me jump, I ask how high. He wants to ruin me in front of his officers who aren't allowed to look at me? I'll do it

That or I power bottom Sampo. Make that submissive little shit worship me

ON A PLATTER

YANDERE! JING YUAN x AMAB! SOLDIER! READER

plus a little Sampo addition (not smut tho) to the end.

hope everyone that pulled for him succeeded!!

©️ art and story belongs to me, character goes to hoyoverse. please do not redistribute, repost, or share my art without credit or permission.

warnings: noncon. spoilers for the jarilo iv storyline. anal seggs.

status: unedited

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. I BEG OF YOU.

Many exalted the drowsy general’s prowess and leadership across the Xianzhou Alliance. Under his rule, the Luofu Flagship developed into a powerhouse that petrified those who heard its name. An infamous red line that warned against those that sought immortality. A blade that stuck right next your jugular in case you dare so moved in a direction they do not want you to.

This general was hundreds of years your junior but had already accomplished far more than you have. That fact was the second biggest slap to the face.

The actual, most damaging slap was his patronizing attitude towards you.

How were you supposed to rise above your station and prove your worth as a knight when he assigned you as his measly bodyguard? It wasn’t as if it was a quiet career really, the man faced dozens of attempts at his life on a daily. It was moreso the fact that he never let you do your job in the first place.

You spent decades just standing around while he swung his massive sword at intruders before you could even blink. Somehow, the lousy man moved faster when defending you rather than with his own duties. It was as if he was the body guard not you.

Not to mention the perverse stares. You weren’t dense. You could feel his bedroom eyes from miles away, taking off the heavy armor you wore to work and leaving you bare. You felt like a lamb, or a tender piece of steak on a platter — and he, the most insatiable man alive.

Hundreds of years training — wasted, spent on being a trophy for him.

If remaining close to the master that misused you for several decades was bad enough, having to interact with him was like hell on earth. He was a vice, a poison molded into the shape of a man. One that could kill you in a instant, but looked oh so tempting. Only the heavens knew how you were resisted his charms for so long.

“Yes, my general? How may I be of assistance?” Your voice and words held a cordial, cold tone to it. If your employer could not bring a semblance of professionalism into the table, then you would tenfold. If he always closed in the distance between you two, you in turn would step further away in your relationship or whatever one might call this thing between the two of you was.

Despite your frigid temperament, Jing Yuan does not flinch nor back down. His eyes trained on a star-chess piece as he twirled it around. “I think it is about time we quell any sort of . . . resentment you have towards me is all.”

You had to give it to him. Jing Yuan was one of the most attractive people you’ve ever bared witness to. At nights like these where his mane of a hair was let down, giving him a relaxed and playful look, it was hard not to stare. “Pardon, my general?”

“You have no need to give me false face, [Y/N]. I know of your doubts and qualms. You see me unfit to continue being General. That I am incompetent, lazy. That I do not let you do a job you feel you are overqualified to even be in.” He listed off before carefully placing the star-chess piece down. His eyes then abruptly flicked to you, creating eye-contact and in turn, chills.

You are rendered speechless. How had he known? You had been so terribly careful. Never spouting about what you thought. Never even writing down such things. You knew better than to show your treacherous feelings outside of the seat of divine foresight, much less within.

So how, how did this wretched man know?

The General smirked as your hands tightened around your spear. “Why so shy all of a sudden, little warrior? Do not worry. I have a feeling you’ll quite enjoy what I have in store for you.”

“Come here.” He patted his lap.

And you quickly realized what was happening here.

Your whole career was a waiting game really. Each day you could only pray that the General had enough self-control not to take you. It seemed that today was the day all restraints were taken off.

Now, you could only pray for things to be swiftly over, or heavens forbid for him to not enjoy it so that it won’t happen again in the future.

Jing Yuan had long planned for this moment. What order he’d take off each piece of armor, how he’d do it, and every step following that. He was more meticulous in the way he’d have his time with you than anything else in his life.

Never did he put this much effort into anything. Not his studies nor training. He had to give it to you. You were right. He didn’t fully devote himself into playing General. How could he when he was already fully devoting himself to you?

“Perhaps little warrior was a wrong title for me to give you. With how drenched these are, wouldn’t little whore be better, hm?” Your skin, no matter what imperfections it may have, looked immaculate to his eyes. It was something Jing Yuan daydreamed about for hours on end and you did not disappoint. He should have done this sooner, he thought. Too bad it had to take a certain trigger for all his control to diminish.

His wasted no time when grabbing your cock. It was semi soft, though you didn’t want him this way your hormones said otherwise. He doesn’t falter for one second even after knowing so, predicting that its state would change once he began stimulating it. “My General, please — ngh — cease this at one.”

You legs kept moving around, either in pleasure or in a last ditch attempt at resisting, you didn’t know. Your body was moving on sheer instinct. Flight or fight mixing with euphoria. Fear and relief clashing against one another. It had been months since you last touched yourself. As a being close to a thousand years of age, your libido had long fizzled out. Or so you thought.

“You really are in need of a wake up call.”

Jing Yuan remained silent for the couple of minutes it took you to finally ejaculate. As the thick white liquid left your member, so did the remaining will to resist.

“I am your ruler.”

Jing Yuan suddenly stood up, causing you to fall forward unto his desk. Your chrysanthemum presented itself for him.

“My word is law.”

His left hands slid from your lower back to your shoulder as his right aligned his cock. You dare not look back to witness his size.

You hear the sound of a bottle being opened and of squelching while Jing Yuan covered himself in lubricant. He almost spends an entire minute just touching himself to your naked back. A sight he thought would only remain a mirage, a phantasm he will never see come to light.

“My desire will be met.”

But alas, you are here. Though he could easily reach climax just masturbating to this magnificent view, a taste was what this entire endeavor’s reason for occurring.

“And long have I waited for this moment to have you in my hands, Senior.”

He enters. Not gentle in the slightest. And to both your surprise he cums right there, not even lasting a second within you. Regardless of the surprise and sudden intrusion, you do not miss the way he addressed you.

A flood of memories fills your mind. “Xiao Yuan . . ?”

You do not get to think too much about it however, as Jing Yuan quickly regained his erection and began fucking your hole. Groaning loudly at your tightness which came as a result of your surprise. He picks you up by your arms and pressed your back to his chest.

“You finally remembered me, have you? But alas, catching up will have to wait. We have an audience waiting for the real show to begin.” He tilted his head away and looked beyond your form.

The guards — those who thought were your friends — that were stationed there weren’t dismissed. They were watching the whole time you were being jerked off and reached climax. Their eyes were glued to how Jing Yuan’s cock would disappear into your little hole, ears peeled to the lewd sounds of squelching, slapping and mewling, you bet that behind those helmets they were drooling over your misery.

But you didn’t feel an inch of anger at them at all, only at the man that forced you into this wicked situation in the first place.

“You lunatic—“ You yelled, but you do not move away, thrash or form any attempts at escape.

“Lunatic? No no, just authoritarian. A leader needs to assert himself in the face of . . . those who daringly gaze at my belonging. All while they’re stripped bare for me to partake in. If anything those lowly soldiers are the perverts are they not?” He paused from his thrusts, and you are ashamed to know that you made a small whine of disappointment at his lack of movement. He chuckled at your response before his face turned cold.

Golden eyes dripped in apathy as he commanded to everyone else in the room. “Helmets off.”

“Yes, general!” They all nodded in unison. No hesitation whatsoever.

“Look straight into their eyes, little warrior.” But who were you to judge when all you do to his commands were to follow blindly as well? You faced your comrades, you’re almost thankful for your arousal clouding your brain and stopping it from feeling too much shame and disgust. They stare right back. Eyes burning with lust and excitement.

Once he is assured of your eye-contact, Jing Yuan began pounding your ass again, this time he was somehow much more harsh than he was at the beginning. “Ngh — !”

“See all of them? These people would kill to be in my place right now. They’d beg for just a drop of your essence. And here you are, taking my cock like the good little warrior you are. Milking me for all I’m worth. Aren’t you greedy for me? Hahaha!” It doesn’t take Jing Yuan long to get jealous. Just several seconds later he shoves you forward and back unto his desk, forcing you to face somewhere else and your attention back to only the way his cock rearranged your insides and hiding the way your hole took him. His hand running itself through your hair, tugging once or twice every minute.

He leaned forward, thus allowing his voice to reach your ears and your ears alone, and his member to reach even further inside you. “Want more of my cum, [Y/N]? Tell me. Order me.”

“Give me - ah - more of your cum, you - ah - bastard!” You screamed, grabbing ahold of one of his scrolls and unintentionally breaking via the strength of your grip.

Your wish is his command.

Jing Yuan doesn’t slow down or stop as his cum filled you up. He wanted to make sure every corner of your hole was covered with him, that every spurt of his seed would decorate your rectum and make it its home.

“Satisfied with your general now, soldier?” He asked, his hips now slowly stuttered to a stop.

You do not reply, only panting in exhaustion. He does not part with you for a moment when he gave his command.

“Qingzu. Send this recording to Tingyun, then execute the rest.”

Your shock and terror overshadowed the doom of all your friends.

“Yes, my General.”

You only realized the weight of it all when he turned you around for an embrace. His genital already ‘recovering’ and almost ready for another round.

“How would you like their eyes served to you, hm? In preserve jars . . .

Or on a platter?”

Inside the void of space. Of the stars, the planets. The cradle of creation and dreams. You hear the sly voice of a man you once knew.

“What a pervert you are, reading a smutty story of that General from Xianzhou.”

What was his name again? Sam . . . Samuel . . . ?

“Sooo ~ did you enjoy it? Did you have fun?”

Sampo. Sampo Koski.

“ . . . What ?”

Yes, Sampo, your fellow actor. How could you forget? The support to your lead. The guy who always had your back.

“Oh my, you seem a little disoriented.“

In the cold embrace of the void, Sampo’s hands almost felt hot when he placed it upon your cheeks.

“Not to worry, dear friend! I’ll fix you right back up again. Can’t have our main actor ill-prepared for their next show, do we?”

And the curtain opens, revealing a sea of white.

[ TRANSLATION ]

chrysanthemum - lit. it’s a pretty flower ya’ll. slang wise it means anus.

xiao - lit. little. it’s a chinese diminutive, basically added to the name to make it sound cute. like little yun or little [y/n].

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[see-arcane]

Just got out of the theater and holy shit

Saw X isn't just the best movie in the Saw franchise. It's one of the best horror films I've seen in years. Even if the rest of my to-watch list flops in theaters for October, I can absolutely see myself watching this thing again to make up for it

We finally got a film that's genuinely about Jigsaw and follows him through the story rather than dangling him at the edges or squashing Tobin Bell into posthumous recordings and flashbacks. It's about him and that brief but potent-powerful twilight between Saw I and Saw II where he was at his most active and personally dangerous.

Without giving too much away, it really cements

One: Why he and his acolytes are so goddamn scary-good at what they do. Better yet, it shows how pants-shittingly terrifying it is for their targets when the Jigsaw crew close in for the abduction

Two: How human and earnest John Kramer is in what he believes, the good and the ill, under all the sadistic torture-murder machinery. The cinematography and the script really work together to light him as a sort of time-misplaced Old Testament figure. If not a priest, then a classical demon who is there first to judge/punish/test people to grisly extremes, and if they pass, to immediately provide aid. All this without shying away from the fact that...

Three: Jigsaw is absolutely a monster; but far from the worst villain on the block.

The whole thing is fantastic top to bottom for fans and newcomers. It could be its own standalone flick. (And, mild spoilers, a certain character is left dangling as a potential future route to another movie. If it's anything like this one, I'd absolutely see a Saw XI)

Anyway. Bravo to Tobin Bell, to Shawnee Smith, and to director Kevin Greutert and writer Josh Stolberg. 5/5 severed limbs, will be looking forward to my nightmares tonight.

Also! For those heading to the theater, there is a mid-credits stinger. Don't miss it!