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taintandviolent · 1 month

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Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome.

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone.

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms.

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!"

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it."

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest.

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought.

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend)

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.”

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care.

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core.

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome.

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing.

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town.

Remy moves first.

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet.

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame.

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react.

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.”

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing.

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you.

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing.

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good."

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing.

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does.

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.”

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath.

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me."

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs.

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity.

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand.

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?��

“N-need you… so bad.”

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...”

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck.

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care.

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough.

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch.

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight.

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?”

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists.

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him.

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side.

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space.

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.”

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch.

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you.

Oh my god.

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze.

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her.

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa.

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver.

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.”

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give.

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you.

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry.

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s… oh god.”

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.”

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you.

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…”

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep.

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts.

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin.

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions.

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate.

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.”

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you.

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting.

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets.

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you.

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again.

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he.

#Gambit #Remy Lebeau #channing tatum #Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit #channing tatum gambit #Gambit x reader #gambit x you #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau x you #female reader #Deadpool and Wolverine #Deadpool 3 #x reader fics #myfics

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murdrdocs · 11 months

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mike schmidt’s world !

☼ fluff ☽ smut ☁︎ suggestive (17+) ⛈ dark content (18+) full masterlist

note: fem! and gn! labels are given based on the use of pronouns and anatomy; fem! fics use 'she/her' or labels such as 'girl' as well as explicit afab anatomy, GN! has no use of gendered pronouns or labels and anatomy is ambigious

mike has a thing for recording ☽ GN!

matt is obsessed with you, and bad at hiding it ☁︎ fem!

mike is a grumpy bf ☼ fem!

mike w an impulsive and nosy gf at freddy's ☼ fem!

phone sex w mike snippet ☁︎ GN!

mike is just a bit of a perv ☁︎ fem!

mike tries to keep quiet but you feel too good ☽ fem!

abby matches up you, her new teacher, and mike ☼ GN!

mike can be a bit of a brat tamer when needed ☁︎ fem!

slightly brat!tamer mike will make you participate ☁︎ fem!

mike needs you to keep him awake at work ☽ fem!

mike trick or treats against his will ☼ fem!

mike is too shy to ask for it (he's obvious about it) ☽ GN!

dad!mike's first halloween with a newborn ☼ fem!

dad!mike aka ultra dilf ☼ GN!

flirting with mike as a playboy bunny ☁︎ fem!

mike eats it from the back ☽ fem!

accidental couples costumes ends w bathroom fucks ☽ fem!

mike who goes "you still with me" ☽ fem!

mike goes cross eyed when he's about to cum ☽ fem!

mike won’t just let you shower ☽ fem!

more than friends w vanessa, and mike is a third ☁︎ fem!

mike whimpering in your ear while fucking you ☽ fem!

mike sees how good you are with kids and gets inspired ☽ fem!

giving mike road head ☽ fem!

trying to get mike to fuck you on your period ☽ GN!

being mikes cutesy 00's gf ☼ fem!

more mike and his 2000s girlfriend ☼ fem!

riding mikes nose ☽ fem!

sharing abby's blanket fort with mike ☼ GN!

mike insisting that showering together will save money ☽ fem!

mike has a wet dream next to you ☁︎ GN!

morning cuddling sex with mike ☽ fem!

vanessa eats mikes cum out of you ☽ fem!

mike has always wanted to be a dad ☼ fem!

mike "doesn't want a relationship" ☁︎ GN!

mike holding your hand during sex ☽ fem!

the comforting weight of mikes dick in your mouth ☽ GN!

getting a drawing of abby's tattooed ☼ GN!

mike "wear whatever you want, i can fight" schmidt ☼ GN!

mike wants you to keep his cum inside ☽ fem!

riding mikes face while he jerks off ☽ fem!

mike and his wandering hands ☽ GN!

handy boyfriend mike builds your bed ☽ GN!

abby picks up on your bratty comments ☼ GN!

mike comforting you after a failed exam ☼ GN!

phone sex with mike ☽ fem!

mike talks you through it ☽ GN!

#updated: november 28 2023.#–𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 #mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf masterlist #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt

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bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year

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Seventeen as fake dating scenarios

⟪‘95 + ‘96 line version⟫

other versions: ⟪‘97 + ‘98 + '99 line version⟫

SEUNGCHEOL: saving you from unwanted attention.

You weren’t entirely sure what had possessed you to come to this club that night. It’s not that you didn’t like parties. Rather, you had heard plenty of disturbing rumours about this part of town. And yet, here you were, at the bar, nervously sipping your drink while trying to keep an eye out for your friends.

“Come here often, pretty lady?” came a question from your right, along with a breath that smelled of all kinds of alcohol and freshly smoked tobacco. You willed yourself not to cringe.

“I’m not here to talk to guys like you,” you said and tried to walk away.

He caught your wrist in his hand, pulling you back. “Now, now, no need to be rude. How about I buy you a drink?”

Instead of even considering humouring him, you wondered if anyone would hear you scream over the booming volume of the music. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

Your wrist was pulled free from his grasp at a moment’s notice. A broad-shouldered man stood between you and the guy, towering over his seated form, practically oozing with annoyance. “How about you stop hitting on my girl?”

Hold on. Your eyes widened.

He turned to you and offered his hand, smiling kindly before sending you a conspiratory wink. “Let’s go, darling. You said you’d save me a dance before we went home.”

You breathed out, trying your best to not alert the other – possibly much worse – guy. “Right. Let’s go.”

As he led you towards the dance floor, his hand hold yours ever so gently, he told you, “I’m sorry for doing that. You must be scared. I just worried he’d do something to you if I didn’t intervene.”

He seemed nice and attractive enough, you decided after a moment of thought. “Alright. I demand a dance as an apology.”

JEONGHAN: swindling your way through a stupid bet

“Listen, if you do me this favour, I’ll split the money with you, 50/50.”

You should’ve never taken that offer. Not from Yoon Jeonghan. It was taking every ounce of your self-control to not slap his hand every time it came to rest on your waist. You despised this man and everything he did and said and thought. Was 100 bucks worth it?

“Are you guys going to the festival this weekend?” Mingyu wondered, eyeing you two suspiciously. As your best friend, he was more than sceptical and you couldn’t even blame him.

“Of course! My darling is so excited to go see BTOB live. Right, my darling?”

A pinch at your waist reminded you to smile a little nicer and when you turned to “smile” at Jeonghan, you glared at him instead, warning him silently. Two could play that game. Through gritted teeth, you spoke, “Of course. I can’t wait. I hope they perform our song.”

“Our song?”

“Your song?” Mingyu blinked. “You guys have a song? What is it?”

You smiled as innocently as you could, daring Jeonghan to pull you into his shenanigans again. “Yeah, what song is it, my love?”

You were sure every person within a mile of you could hear the gears turning in Jeonghan’s head as he tried to think of a song? “Right. Our song.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows rose in suspicion. “That being?”

Jeonghan relaxed back into his seat. “Of course it’s Movie. (Y/n) and I love to dance to that song. It was our first dance.”

“That’s not a particularly cute song.” Mingyu’s suspicions were rising.

You reminded yourself that there was 100 bucks on the line and said, “Well, we’re not a particularly cutesy couple. I think Movie suits us: it’s fun!”

“Right! And we always—“ you could feel Jeonghan’s venomous glare as he spoke, “–have so much fun.”

JOSHUA: fake proposal for free dessert

“Do you think they offer free dessert for proposals?”

Joshua caught on quickly, already reaching into his pocket. “Supposedly. Or so I’ve read from about a hundred online reviews. Do you want to or shall I?”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” you suggested and he agreed. A quick game determined that you were the winner.

Joshua sighed and let out a soft whine. “But I’m wearing my good pants.”

“Don’t you dare slack,” you warned him. “I expect a proper proposal, one knee and all.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, but the dessert better be good. And!” He lifted a finger to point it at you almost accusingly. “If you even try to do the “but what about your wife and kids” thing again, I will make sure you'll live to regret it.”

“Oh, come on!” You laughed. “It was one time and I agreed eventually, did I not?”

“Yeah, after embarrassing me.”

“But the waiter gave you even more dessert for your embarrassment,” you pointed out. “So if anything, you kind of owe me.”

“This is the last time I do this with you. Only because I doubt anyone would ever propose to you in any other context.”

“Oh, ouch. Just break my heart while you’re at it.”

JUNHUI: partnering up for amusement park rides

“I’m just saying, you’re lonely, I’m lonely, most rides require people to pair up. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer not to pair up with a complete stranger for every ride.”

He contemplated. “… I hate that you’re kind of right.”

“Okay, perfect. So we’re best friends, going to rides together. Cool?”

“Cool.”

It was not cool. While waiting in line for the newest roller coaster, a sweet middle-aged lady with her daughter tapped on your shoulder to ask you, “You guys are just adorable! How long have you guys been a couple?”

“We’re not—”

"It’s our anniversary today,” Junhui piped up before you could finish your sentence. Your brain completely froze like a 2002 Dell laptop trying to run Minecraft.

Your lack of reaction didn’t stop him. His arm wrapped around you snuggly as he made up an elaborate back-story about how you met while volunteering at a cat shelter and how he asked you out and how he had asked you to move in this morning – none of which was even remotely close to a truth.

“Why would you make all that up?” you asked him as the ride was about to start. “Are you insane?”

He grimaced. “I panicked! Besides – it got us a ride ticket for free, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, because the staff think we’re celebrating our anniversary.”

“Then complain less and remember your back-story. Who knows what other discounts we could get if we keep this up.”

It was then that you realised that you had created a monster.

SOONYOUNG: fake dating to avoid an arranged marriage

“Your Highness, you can’t keep dodging marriage proposals like this. I doubt your parents care that you’re ‘dating’–” he drew air quotes around the word “–the royal pet caretaker.”

“Well, it seems to be working well enough,” you pointed out and affectionately rested your chin against his shoulder as your mother – the queen – passed by the opened doors of the room. You glared after her. “I don’t understand why they want me to marry so bad. It’s not like I’m heir to the throne.”

“And you never will be if you keep acting like we’re an item.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it, Soonyoung,” you scolded him playfully and poked his puffed out cheeks.

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Yeah?” You smiled. “You must love all the perks of dating royalty without actually dating royalty.”

He laughed. “Well, I can’t say no to getting an extra dessert after dinner.”

“There’s my boy.” You hummed in thought. “Should we step it up a bit? For more perks for you and less pressure for me?”

“What do you have in mind, Your Highness?”

“First, stop calling me Your Highness,” he grimaced at the idea, “and second, we have to show them we’re serious about this. We have to step up our game.”

“What exactly do you have in mind, princess?”

You smirked just as you heard your mother’s voice coming closer again. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – whether it was out of his own free will or because this was a royal order, you would never know.

WONWOO: a cover story for an investigation

“I just don’t think that’s right,” Wonwoo said while staring at the board, his brows furrowed in concentration. “What would be her motive?”

“I don’t know. Money?” you suggested between flipping through the pages of the report you'd been sent. “Maybe she was jealous of her husband’s daughter from the previous marriage and—”

The doorbell rang.

“Please be the pizza guy,” you whispered under you breath but hid the report regardless and rushed to the door. You could never be too careful in this line of work.

Instead, Mrs Yoon – the very woman you had been discussing – smiled at you at the door. “Hi, dear! I just came to check on you; I feel like I haven’t seen you all day!”

You forced on a smile. “Wonwoo and I have just been so busy thinking about how to decorate the house – make it more our own, you know?”

“Oh right! Is your darling husband home too? I wasn’t interrupting, was I?” She winked and you didn’t like the implications behind that. She then leaned over to whisper slyly, “Who knows, maybe you’ll need to decorate a nursery soon.”

You gulped. “Oh, not yet, surely. We’re still—We haven’t even—”

“Darling, who is it?” Wonwoo’s voice sounded like the that of an angel coming to save you from this awkward situation. You breathed out in relief as he added, “Can you come help me move this cupboard?”

“Well,” you smiled apologetically, “it sounds like I’m needed. I’d love to catch up tomorrow though!”

“I’ll see you then, sweetheart!” She left with another wink. You could not have closed the door faster.

“She isn’t catching onto us, is she?” Wonwoo wondered when you returned to him.

You slumped into the sofa. “Nope. If anything, she’s buying our cover a little too well.”

JIHOON: fake dating because he lied to his friends

“I still can’t believe you posted an advertisement for a fake girlfriend,” you mused as you watched him working out.

He scoffed. “I still can’t believe you actually responded to it. What if I was a creep?”

“Fair point.” Not that you’d ever admit that you only responded to the ad because you recognised his name and phone number because you had been harbouring a crush on him this entire year. He never had to know. “So, why are we at the gym? Who are we meeting here?”

“Literally all of my friends that matter. So… I don’t know. How does the whole fake dating thing work?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the boss.”

“I don’t know. I assumed that because you answered the ad, you must have some experience.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but unfortunately, I do not have any experience. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Well—” You paused, ears burning all of a sudden. “Not everything everything. Like, I have boundaries but—”

“Ay-yo, Jihoon!” Soonyoung’s familiar voice filled the gym. “Are you ready to get absolutely shredded and—Oh.” The previously loud tiger turned into a shy hamster. “Hi. Who are you?”

“That’s (Y/n),” Jihoon introduced with a smile that just naturally screamed confidence, “my girlfriend. The one I told you about.”

Soonyoung’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you were serious?! You have a girlfriend?!” He turned to you. “Are you really his girlfriend?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, earning a short laugh from you. He then walked over and rested his hand on your shoulder, leaning over to kiss your temple. “Baby, meet Soonyoung. He doesn’t get any less annoying than that.”

NOTE: i wrote these as an attempt to get rid of the stupid writer's block i've been dealing with all month lol

#seventeen reaction #seventeen scenarios #svt reactions #seventeen x reader #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #junhui scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #jihoon scenarios

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virgo-barbie · 1 year

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bimbo starter kit ✨💖

it can take a while for a bimbo to feel comfortable with cosmetic procedures, or even just to secure the necessary finances to take the next step in her journey! here are a list of things you can start on right away while you figure out the rest.

1. exercise! a bimbo's body is her best weapon. try to aim for a couple times a week at least. if you don't like running, try pilates, yoga, dance, anything. it's just important that you feel connected to your body in some way.

2. spray tans! for me, this really amps up my sex appeal. my skin has a golden hue that a spray tan really brings out. if i don't have time to go get professionally tanned biweekly, i'll use a tanning mousse instead. it gives a similar effect, but the spray tan is a bit more realistic.

3. manicure and pedicure! what is a bimbo without her claws? i personally love having acrylic nails. i don't have them right now because i can't have acrylics when i go in for my breast augmentation, but i almost always do otherwise. i like barbie pink or long white claws. both are very feminine and look great wrapped around the base of a cock or squeezing a beautiful boobie! having your toes done is also important - nobody wants to suck on and lick mangled feet, and you need to be prepared to be worshipped at any point in time.

4.new clothes! i literally threw everything out and started fresh with a wardrobe of basics. 5 pairs of tiny short shorts, about 20 basic tops in pink, white, and black. I am working my way up towards more exciting statement pieces and building up my shoe and purse collection, but this all takes time. In the meantime, you need clothes that look good on your body and show off your best assets. after my breast augmentation, i will be getting a bunch of new clothes from brands like skims, alo, for love & lemons, etc. for my more bimboish pieces, i kind of just shop around, but i think it's important to have a ton of basic pieces so you can create endless outfits. the mini skirts, fur coats and heels can come later - once you have things to wear them with that make you look super stylish and more importantly... show off your body.

5. get your hair done professionally! most bimbos like to be blonde (myself included) and unless you're already blonde to start with, i see absolutely no reason you should do this at home. save up some money and find a hair stylist in your town who specializes in blonde hair. you won't regret it, and there's nothing bimbo about having crusty, fried hair. if you're not certain if blonde is the best route for you (it probably is), ask a stylist! pink also looks adorable on bimbos with a more cutesy y2k style. a good haircut with some face framing layers can also completely change your whole look.

6. whiten your teeth! invest in a whitening foam and tray, or just use strips. i've had a similar effect with both.

7. get good with fake eyelashes! they elevate any makeup look from fresh to sexy. once you've had lip filler, lip gloss and lipstick will also become your new best friend.

8. silly little accessories! may i suggest a pink lollipop or bubblegum? this will help keep the attention on your perfect little mouth all day and will also give you something cute to distract yourself with while you fantasize about being used out in public.

#hyper femininity #bimbo doll #girlcore #bimbo babe #bimboification #coquette #dollette #it girl #coqeutte #girlblogging #bimbolife #bimbo goals #bimboization #bimbo hypnosis #bimbo training #bimbofied #bimbocore #bambi bubbles

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thezombieprostitute · 1 month

Text

Tech Tuesday: Ransom

Summary: Your laptop needs repair and you're at risk of embarrassing yourself and the company in front of some very big investors.

Warnings: Crying, Ransom kinda being an ass. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 1

You see Mr. Syverson again and he raises an eyebrow, “done already? Tell me he behaved himself.”

“So far, yes, Mr. Syverson,” you assure. “But he said I need a temporary laptop from Walter?”

“Oh, sure thing.” Mr. Syverson points to one of the few doors in the department. “Walter's back there. He can be a bit grumpy but he'll be polite. Just tell 'im what you need and if he gives ya trouble, talk to me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Syverson!”

As promised, Walter wasn't the most cheerful. You wondered if IT was just the kind of job that attracted grumpy people. Then again, Jake and Steve weren't grumpy. But maybe they were the exceptions. Walter got you the temporary laptop and you ran back to Ransom's desk.

Ransom looked like he was focused and you didn't want to interrupt him, after all he was fixing your screw up. But you saw the time and panicked.

"Here's the laptop," you say a little too loudly, making him jump a bit. "I'm sorry I scared you but I really need this to go well and I didn't want to interrupt you but the presentation is in less than an hour and I need---"

You're cut off when Ransom roughly grabs the laptop out of your hands. You drop your face in embarrassment.

"I'm still hunting down the file," he growls. "When was the last time you saved it?"

"Um...I think it was yesterday? Before I left? I hope I saved it yesterday. It saves automatically, right? Please tell me it saves automatically!" You have to fight to keep yourself from grabbing Ransom's shoulders and demanding answers.

Ransom raises both of his hands in a placatory manner. He sees the fear in your eyes and is quick to move so you can't touch him. "I'm still looking for the file and a timestamp would be helpful. Can you give me a time that you last worked on it?"

Trying to fight the tears forming in your eyes you whimper, "I was working on it all day, yesterday. It was the last thing I worked on before closing out for the day. I had to have saved something, right?!"

"Let's take the temporary laptop back to your cubicle, make sure everything's working. Then I'll get back to searching. If I find a copy of the file on the network I will email it to you," he says through gritted teeth. He's never been comfortable around tears.

Hanging your head in defeat you can only nod a little and hold the temporary laptop closer as you head back to your desk.

As soon as Ransom sees the stuffed animals and cutesy accoutrements at your desk he has to bite his tongue to not say something mean. One word to Syverson and Ransom has to go asking his family for money.

You notice him freeze up and ask, "are you okay?"

He just nods, takes a deep breath and focuses on the work of setting up your temporary laptop. "Normally I'd stick around and double check some things but I'm sure you prefer me getting back to looking for that presentation."

You nod emphatically, "yes, yes, please!" He leaves and you hug one of your stuffed animals, helping you calm down. Maybe he could use a stuffed animal of his own? He seems really stressed out, too.

Part 1

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

#tech tuesday #tech tuesday: ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female!reader #it!ransom drysdale x office worker!reader

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leonw4nter · 6 months

Note

i was wondering if you had any general dating headcanons for re2r leon (and fem reader)? like how he would act in a relationship, treat is partner, etc (sorry if this is vague i just really enjoy your writing so when i saw requests open i ran here lol)

General Dating Headcanons with RE2R!Leon x Fem!Reader

RE2R!Leon x Fem!Reader

When you two were first dating, he was shy and didn’t initiate most displays of affection aside from kissing or wanting to hold hands but after a month and a half, he was a lot more himself now. He wouldn’t hesitate to ask for cuddles now and is a lot more comfortable with giving you kisses on the cheek or hair in public.

Once his coworkers catch a glimpse of the cutesy messages you two send to each other, he will start fighting for his life in the work group chat. There was one particular incident where you left work early in order to surprise Leon and pick him up. Throughout the day, he was quiet and reserved but as soon as he saw you out of the corner of his eyes, his eyes twinkled and the widest grin spread on his face. His voice raised in pitch and he practically skipped over to you for a big hug.

When you two are working in your shared bedroom, doing individual tasks, and he realizes that you two aren’t talking but there’s a peaceful feeling, he’ll point it out and say something along the lines of “we’re like a married couple because we’re doing our own thing but it feels nice and we don’t feel obligated to entertain the other because our presence is enough” and then follows up with some random sentence and gets back to typing away in his laptop or reading reports again.

While dating, he developed the habit of saying the most romantic and poetic thing ever only to get back to doing something weird; just a day ago, he said “In the vast expanse of outer space and all the stars and galaxies in there, my universe begins and ends with you” then proceeded to hit his elbow against the chair, which made him cry out in pain and curl up in the ground.

Leon also tends to play with your stuffed animals in a way that he makes them do flips or do a little dance sometimes, to heal his inner child that he never got to bask in because of his rough childhood.

In the unfortunate event that you and him got into an argument, he would be the type to walk up to Jill and say “I should set myself on fire”. Jill will definitely look at him all confused and concerned, saying “And why is that…?” and he will respond with “Y/N and I got into an argument. She’s mad and I need to set myself on fire to feel the turmoil I have caused in her heart.”. Jill doesn’t know how to comfort him in this time so she pats his shoulder, giving Leon a judgemental side-eye but she knows he means well. In the end, she will give him advice like treating you to ice cream or doing all the chores for an entire week to appease you and calm the storm in your heart.

Although he earns well, he saves up and doesn’t buy most of what he wants (for example, a Linkin Park CD) so he could spoil you and buy you things without worrying about the expenses. In the end, he ends up being at the receiving end of your spoiling because you felt that today was a good day and ended up buying him the CD he’s been eyeing for.

He’s also the type to scold other men for looking down on their partners and start fighting them to treat their partners right; before dating, he already did that but it was much more meaningful to him after you two started dating. If he was already the type to help his female coworkers ask for a day off due to cramps, he upgraded by petitioning to install sanitary pad vending machines in all the women’s restrooms in his workplace and offering to chip in some money for the said machine. At first, you were worried that he did all that just to get your approval or for you to cave in to giving him a chance but Jill and a few other female coworkers of his said that he’s been doing that ever since.

Leon kept the relationship secret for a little bit (he sucked at hiding it); Chris and Jill decided to check if you and him were dating so they said your name in a conversation they made sure Leon could hear loud and clear. In the end, Leon promptly turned around with the most dilated pupils, sparkly eyes, and a giddy ass smile and boom they caught him.

He won’t be the type to ask from you because he’s going to feel like a high-maintenance boyfriend; he’d hint but very subtly if there’s something that he wants and if you somehow managed to guess what he wanted correctly, he’d blush and then admit he did want it but he’ll always add “but I don’t want it a lot, it’s no big deal!”. If you do get him what he wanted, no matter how simple the thing you got him was, he’d always jump around and giggle before giving you a big hug and his “thank you”s.

He’s very cheerful and happy, he’d do his best to make you laugh and smile but if it’s not one of those days, he’d offer to stay silent and just listen to whatever you’re venting. He’d give his own thoughts and advice but he’ll make sure to listen to every single word you say. It would turn into a full-on rant + shit talk session and you always manage to feel a lot better afterwards and that enough is okay for him.

If you were sick, he’d be so worried sick. As soon as you say that your throat’s feeling a little weird, your head is pounding, and your temperature is above normal he WILL fetch you the most heavenly and refreshing jug of water and cook you chicken noodle soup or congee with bits of chicken. He’d bring a tray with your food, water, and Advil. Oh, he’d also have a trash bin ready if you’ll need to vomit. He’d help you up, propping pillows behind you so you’d be able to comfortably sit up in bed. He’d tell you that he’ll take a day off to look after you but you disagree, urging him to go to work the next day because you’re grown and can look after yourself. He’s hesitant but decides to go to work anyway. On the way home, he’d pick up some more pills and some warm food. He also wouldn’t forget to wring the wet towel on top of your forehead and adjust it if needed.

If he was the one sick, he’d try to play off what he was feeling. He’ll try to downplay the itching in his throat and how he’s so dizzy and on the verge of falling over. You’d catch on to him and tell him to get back to bed and rest, while you do the same thing he does for you: cook food, place a damp towel on his forehead, and try to help him out to the best of your ability. He wouldn’t ask for massages but you’d give him one anyway, a sigh of relief occasionally leaving his lips when you soothe the joints he didn’t notice was sore. He feels pathetic whenever he’s sick but he’s very thankful that there’s someone who’s willing to help him and take care of him until he’s back to full health.

When you two got into an argument, he’d feel bad. He got the last word but at what cost? You’re not speaking to him and the only look you’d give him is a glare and side-eye, if he’s lucky– sometimes, you wouldn’t look at him at all. He’d feel extremely guilty and he’d try to talk to you but the cold glare you’d give him was enough to make him forget whatever he wanted to say. He’d try to make up for whatever mistake he made by cleaning up the apartment, arranging your items, cooking you your favorite meals, or driving you to and from wherever you need to be.

He’d ask his female coworkers for help, especially his coworkers in relationships. He’d approach them with a pocket notebook and pen in hand, ready to write away whatever wisdom they’d give. That day, he got off work early and sped home in order to prepare a nice dinner and run a nice, warm bath. When you arrived, he offered to undo the laces of your shoes and pack away your coat and bag. When you were done, he served your favorite meal and watched you eat. He explained how sorry he was and swore to never plant the seeds of anger and resentment in your heart ever again and to be a better boyfriend for you. You chuckled and accepted his apology, giving him a peck to the cheek before continuing to finish your dinner.

If you’re on your period and the blood somehow leaked on the bed, he wouldn’t feel disgusted or get mad at you for staining the sheets. He’d always say that you don’t get to control when you want to bleed and that you have enough troubles for a week every month so cleaning the sheets and replacing them would be one of the things he can do to help you. If you two were somewhere outside and your blood seeped through your jeans, he’d take his jacket and wrap it around your waist. If he didn’t have a jacket around, he’d walk you to the restroom while rushing somewhere to get you some new underwear and pants, along with tampons or pads and some tissues.

If you didn’t own one already, he’d look for those heating pads that wrap around your waist like a giant band-aid in order to ease the cramps in your lower abdomen and back. He’d buy you whatever foods you were craving for and be in his best behavior; cramps could make you cranky and one wrong move from him could ruin the entire day, which he understood. In the entire week you’re bleeding and suffering, he’ll cuddle you as you watch something on the TV and ask if you need anything else. If it’s his turn to do laundry and spotted that you leaked some blood into your clothes, he wouldn’t feel disgusted to take it upon himself and clean it up nicely. It’s just blood and everyone has blood, why would this blood be any worse or any more shameful than blood from nosebleeds or wounds?

During ovulation week, he feels a little flustered that you’re flirting with him a lot more and eyeing him like he’s a tall piece of meat. You’ve also began to be a lot more touchy with him, giggling and breathily whispering into his ear. He feels a little shy, the tips of his ears reddenning because he’s not used to being called “handsome”, “pretty” or “hot”. He does his best to meet your needs but he still finds ovulation to be… interesting. He talked to Chris’ younger sister Claire about it and she said that it’s normal since the hormones are going haywire in that phase.

One night, you came home a little later than you normally do and found Leon in the restroom, trying out your skincare products in small amounts. He was putting them on in the wrong order and applying the wrong amounts, sheepishly grinning at you when he got caught. You offered to help him after changing into much more comfortable clothes, teaching him which creams to use and in what order. In the end, you both fell asleep in the masks you two were meant to wear for only half an hour.

He’d also let you do his make-up, straddling his lap with his arms around your waist as your tongue was poked out in concentration while you did his eyeliner, making sure it was heavy and dramatic with a sharp wing. You told him not to move after he already sneezed twice while you powdered his face, not wanting to mess up the eyeliner work you already did in order to really complete his look. Somehow, he looked so pretty in the make-up you gave him, his lips were even more plump-looking with the gloss and the eyeshadow complimented the frosty blue of his eyes. He’d let you take pictures but he won’t want you to send it out to his coworkers because he’d feel so embarrassed.

After discovering that you know how to manicure and do nail care, he stopped going to the nail salon to get his nails and hands taken care of and let you do it instead. Most of the time, he’ll only have you push back his cuticles and paint a clear coat on them. Every single time, after you finish up making his hands and nails look pretty, he would repay you with hugs and kisses. If you ended up getting your nails done with nail accessories and gems and all things shiny, he’d end up asking to look at your hands and just admire the intricate details on them. With permission, he’d gently run a hand through your nail and feel the textures on them. Sometimes, he’d end up staring for hours on end or repeatedly glance at them again. He’d be even happier if you seem very visibly pleased with the nails you got for yourself.

If you’re insecure about how you look and you’re not feeling very confident about yourself, he’s going to be there to reassure you that you’re not ugly and you’re better than how you currently perceive yourself. If you two were going out and he noticed that you weren’t visibly confident with the outfit you put on, he won’t hesitate to reassure you but he won’t push wearing the outfit on you if it’s really not what you want to wear.

Lastly, he’s probably the type to own reading glasses but not actual prescription glasses. When he does wear them if he’s reading reports or on his laptop, you can’t help but pinch his cheeks because he looks utterly and absolutely loserly and nerdy in them. Like he’d probably get rectangular black metal frames and he only wears it a handful of times. He doesn’t like wearing them because he doesn’t like the feeling of wearing glasses and doesn’t like how he looks with them on but you digress, encouraging him to wear them more often when he’s around you. Sometimes he makes you wear them and now, he finds you cute! He took so many pictures when he made you wear them for the first time, debating if he should change your contact photo on his phone to that one.

NOTE - Big, big thanks to the anon who asked for this!!! I hope I managed to write this one nicely :) I haven't been posting as much as I had when I first started writing bc I haven't been getting much inspo (hence me opening up requests ; I wanna write but my only issue is that I don't know what to write :'c) I still have my asks open so if anyone wants me to write something up, fire up the ask box <3 My bff is going to Japan soon and they said that if they manage to come across a Capcom store, they'll look for the Leon tsum!!!! WAEOWIRXYTGUS- I'm not going to force them to get it but I'd be rlly happy if they did :D I procrastinated doing my paper that's due tomorrow to be able to do this so I'm going to be rushing right after I post this :))) Anyways, thank you to everyone who likes, follows, and reads my fics, it means a lot to me :) I <3333 UUUUUUU !!!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #fluff #biohazard #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil headcanons #leon kennedy headcanons

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euniexenoblade · 10 months

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My long awaited review for the femboy maid cafe visual novel "Girls! Girls! Girls!?"

Girls! Girls! Girls!? is a charming little visual novel. With cutesy art and fun music, it lures you into this story about this business major being made manager of a failing maid cafe with hopes to turn it around. The game involves having to evaluate the day to day operations of this cafe and analyze where cuts or changes are needed to make the business more efficient. It's clear the managers before didn't understand- hey, Manager-san, what are you doing? Hey, come back, we're discussing the-

THAT'S YOUR EMPLOYEE!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, with that out of his system, the game has you confront the costs of running a cafe. And, a scary aspect of this cafe is that all four girls worked every day, no days off! Right there is clearly where the money problems- Hey Manager-san come back I'm trying to explain your story to everyon-

AGAIN??? THAT'S YOUR FUCKING EMPLOYEE!!!

I'm over here trying to explain how this game is a masterpiece of financial literature, and how it's a great entry to learning how to manage a business, but this guy can't keep his dick clean for two minutes....HEY, NO! STOP IT! DON'T YOU DARE!

YOU'RE GOING TO GET INTO SO MUCH LEGAL TROUBLE, MANAGER-SAN!

No wonder why this business is failing!! All the management can think of is how to bone their staff! Look, Manager-san, please come sit down and talk to me I'm trying to explain to you how putting on a single idol concert will not save your cafe on it's own. No, come here and talk to me. No, stop! Get over here! Do NOT go near the femboy!!

Ok! You fucked all four of them! Congrats! Are you going to fucking come over here and talk to me about how we can save this fucking cafe or not?? What else can you possibly fuck in this place!?

*sighs*

Alright. Ok.

So, if you want some cute, smutty visual novel about fucking femboy maids, then I guess this is 5/5, everything you'd ever want.

But, if you want a real financial thrill, a true business sim, then this is dogshit.

#mordred plays vns

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rorywritesjunk · 6 months

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(like these two as teenagers is so adorable to me I can't help it. Also @hey-august gave me an idea for a scene near the end 😌 and this got long)

pt 1 + pt 2 + pt 3 + pt 4 + pt 5 + pt 6 + pt 7 + pt 8 + pt 9 + pt 10 + pt 11 + pt 12 + pt 13 + pt 13.5 + pt 14 + pt 15

pt 5

Buggy stared up at the ceiling as he laid in bed that night, back on the ship from his date with Sunny, the words "I like you" repeating in his head over and over again. Did she really, and if she did, what did that really mean? Did she like him as a friend while he was thinking it was something more, or were there any romantic feelings there that he wasn't aware of? Should he just... Ask?

The next day he walked around the town as the crew rested and drank at the pubs. He had considered it but he wanted to treat Sunny tonight and pay for their date so he resisted. He wanted to find some place he thought she might like for dinner. She had already taken him out four nights in a row to different places so he thought he'd find a place to take her.

There was a cutesy looking cafe with flower boxes, a blue and white striped awning, and frilly script on the 'Open' sign hung on the door. It was like the shop she worked at: cute and not fitting in with the rest of the place. Oh, yea, this would be perfect to take her.

He waited at the shop for her at close, leaning against the front of the building as he listened for her byes to her boss and coworkers. This was routine. Her boss has already made some comment to Buggy about him taking her away from her while Sunny was still in her apprenticeship and well, Sunny could make her own choices and Buggy wasn't in any position to have her come along with him, so of course he wasn't taking her away, just out to dinner.

She came out of the shop with her hair down and wearing a short sleeve floral dress. He got a whiff of perfume and recognized it as the one he gifted her. Buggy looked at himself quickly, noting his shirt was dirty, his pants had a tear in the knee, and his shoes were scuffed. Why did he leave the ship looking like this? He was about to start panicking when Sunny walked over to him and touched his arm gently.

"Hi! Are you ready?"

"Y-Yes! And I'm going to take you out for dinner tonight, okay? Save your money!" Buggy told her, words rushed once more, wanting to tell her the plans before she could change her mind and regret going out with him. So far she hadn't told Buggy she regretted any of these dates or spending time with him. She hadn't kissed him yet but he wondered if she even wanted to. Maybe she was just feeling sorry for him and that was why she agreed to these? Did she even really like him?

"Oh! Where are you taking me, Buggy?" She asked as she looped her arm around his and smiled up at him. For a moment he wondered how she became so comfortable around him in such a short amount of time.

"It's a surprise, okay? So you'll just have to wait and see." Buggy replied as he started walking, enjoying the feeling of her on his arm as they headed to the cafe. He kept glancing down at her as they walked, waiting for her to say something about this being a joke, or that she didn't like him the way he thought she might. He liked her, looked forward to seeing her, and when he looked down again he saw she was wearing one of the necklaces he gave her as well. Maybe she did like him.

They arrived at the little cafe and Sunny's eyes lit up. She looked at Buggy with big, excited eyes as she pulled him inside and Buggy couldn't quite get why. It was just a little cafe, right, nothing fancy.

Except when they were seated and looked at the menu, his eyes popped out of his head when he saw the prices. He would have enough to cover it if they didn't get the most expensive things on the menu but his palms were sweaty, he felt nervous seeing the options, and he didn't think Sunny would order the most expensive thing on the menu but he couldn't be sure.

"You really are treating me tonight, Buggy." She teased him as she ordered a sparkly lemonade. "Thank you."

"Y-Yea, well, you treated me so it's my turn!" He laughed nervously though in his mind he was freaking out. How did he not think to look at the prices first? This was going to set him back with the meager savings he already had. Why did he bring her here? "Order whatever you want, babe, it's on me!"

Sunny smiled and looked over the menu, eyes scanning for something to eat. "You know, my mom was a pirate."

"Huh, was she famous?" Buggy asked as he looked for the cheapest thing on the menu. Everything was so expensive.

"No, not really, but she was a member of the Cook Pirates under Red Leg Zeff." She told him as she glanced up from the menu. "So she really knew how to cook and combine flavors. She taught me the same thing."

"Really." Buggy looked over at her. Why was she telling him all of this? Sunny set the menu down and nodded.

"Buggy, I think we should eat somewhere else." She told him gently. "Now that I'm looking at the menu, their food is overpriced. We could find some place cheaper with better food."

"H-Hey I'm paying-"

"Yes, but I don't want to eat here." Sunny told him as she set the menu down. "I'd rather get something like crepes again."

Buggy hesitated. He wanted to impress her by picking the restaurant, but if she really didn't want to eat here...

"This time we can get two different crepes and share, okay?" She suggested with a smile. "I wouldn't mind having a lemon and powdered sugar one."

The crepes were tasty and Buggy paid for them, relieved he now wasn't broke. Twp crepes were less than the cheapest thing on the menu at the restaurant and Sunny looked happy. She took a bite of her lemon and powdered sugar crepe before offering it to him. He tried not to blush as he took a bite before doing the same to his, a chocolate and strawberry one with whipped cream again. Sunny took a bite of his and smiled. Some chocolate got on her face and well, Buggy suddenly felt brave.

Leaning forward, resting his hand against the tree they stood under, he licked the chocolate from her cheek. He wasn't as smooth as he thought, his entire tongue on her cheek, smudging it around instead of actually cleaning it off. Sunny went stiff, eyes widening at the sensation before she looked over at him.

"Don't wanna waste any, babe." He winked, not noticing her reaction. "Too tasty to waste any."

She wiped her cheek with the napkin before leaning forward and pecking him on the cheek. There was a bit of powdered sugar on his face. He turned red and almost dropped his food but Sunny caught it.

"You're sweet." She chuckled. "I like that about you, Buggy."

He was done for now.

#mini fic #sunny x buggy #buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x ox #opla buggy #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #buggy's older sister au

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cinnamonest · 2 years

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ModernAu!Xiao has seen so much anime/hentai my boy probs developed a Siscon fetish. Poor Darling has to call him brother and other filthy names.

I am so horny for degenerate siscon Xiao please feed me, your works are heavenly 🤲🏻🤲🏻

Xiao has seen the entirety of Oreimo more than once lmao

Okay but it’s not just calling him “brother.” No, no, it’s so much worse. “Brother” isn’t cringey and degenerate enough for him. Apparently he has to take it one step further, go the whole nine yards.

This boy wants to, unironically, without a single ounce of shame, be called “oniichan.”

…Okay, actually, maybe there’s a little shame. He’s got that much self-awareness, at least.

And “Brother” is just fine, too, but his ears (and thereby his cock) have been trained over the course of years to his preference (patrician taste, he would say) of Japanese animated adult features, and now no single word does it for him quite like that. Even hearing those little cutesy audios of “oniichan!” inserted as a joke into a lot of funny videos makes his cock twitch.

The world is unfair. Why can’t this be one of his siscon hentais?? Except he doesn’t even have a sister! No, he was deprived of the one thing that would have made this world worth living, no sister to conveniently move in with to save money as struggling young adults, no one to spy on in the shower and steal underwear from… tragic.

Eventually, he has to personally correct this injustice. If his life isn’t going to work out like a hentai on its own, he’ll just have to make it happen! This is where you come in. Sure, you may not look like siblings (probably because you were just the girl that caught his attention that he’s been stalking up until he came to bring you home a while earlier), but you can pretend for him.

You can technically reenact any genre of hentai he would like, this should be no exception.

Of course, you don’t react very well to the specific command – even despite how upset you are about the whole abduction thing, you still chortle and cover your mouth. Are you fucking kidding me no way oh my God—

His face reddens, his mouth pulls taut, he huffs and folds his arms. Would you stop that? He’s taking care of you, forcing—rather, allowing you live in his home, he feeds you, gives you stuff. This is a very simple request and making fun of him when he has been so good to you is very mean actually especially considering it’s actually a very normal thing to be into! So be good and follow the commands.

Yes you have to wear the striped panties and the thigh highs. Yes the schoolgirl uniform is necessary. Yes you have to put on the artificially high-pitched uwu voice when you call him oniichan. Is that all really so hard? Be cooperative.

Eventually, halfway as a mocking joke, you do go for it – you wait until he’s going hard and fast, cup your hand around his face, look him dead in the eye, put on your best half-lidded eyes and breathy voice and whimper your best “oniichan….” that you can muster, and this boy cums on the spot. At first he thought you were actually being cooperative, but it turns out you just wanted to mock him further… now he’s sad when you start laughing.

#bonus points if darling is like significantly older than him too would be hilarious #'put the schoolgirl uniform on'#'boy I am 35 years old'#'did I stutter put it on 😤'#.x #.modern #in.tg #just in case

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docholligay · 2 months

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I don't know why the repro scene in the UK is so good, but man is it annoying that some of the very very most accurate reproduction vintage would cost me like 50 goddamn dollars in shipping and also would be royal mail so who knows if it would show.

And it's all "straight across." It's 90% straight-up, reproduction of shit that was made from the 1940s to the 1960s. Love that. Most of what we have in the US is a very twee, "pinup" take on the style. There is nothing wrong on god's green and verdant earth with wearing a fit and flare swing dress with a fuckin Fraggle Rock print, but that is not how I want to live my life. I want to look like I could have stepped onto the street in 1954 or some shit. (With some minor styling differences, I'm not a purist by any means, I'm just not into being CUTESY. I'm playing it straight.) And in the US, we just do NOT have the wide variety of options for that--we have shit like Modcloth, Unique Vintage, etc. Which in addition to being cheaply made, mostly, is all that twee stuff, or all fucking black.

I do not mind spending money on my clothes! The secret to my 'success' is I buy very few items of clothing a year and I spend MONEY on them. At this stage in my life, I am looking to refine my wardrobe, not build it. I am swapping out less nice pieces for better ones. But JESUS, does it make me choke to save up 90 bucks and then have 50 bucks in shipping on top of it.

And yeah, you actually can find the stuff I'm looking for at clothiers who do not specialize in reproduction. I got my Kitty Hepburn style pants and vest from Banana fucking Republic, really nice, thick 80% wool blend. Exactly what I wanted. But the trouble is *I* know the words I am looking for, but especially resellers DO NOT. I know what a dolman sleeve blouse is, but does Chaz in Boca Raton selling a silk blend top that I DO WANT? No! Not often!

And GOD, every time I look on ebay and see how AMAZINGLY CHEAP the resale market is on this stuff in the UK, I SCREAM. You are all so fucking spoiled cry cry cry.

#freddie's of pinewood #cathcart london #vivien of holloway #stanley biggs #dig for victory #seamstress of bloomsbury #house of foxy #this is just off the rtop of my head BY THE BY #I have ebay alerts set for so many of these for 'already stateside' and its so rare #House of foxy's quality is SOMETIMES middlin #you have to read the labels carefully but the rest are just....fucking stellar #If I ever go back I need to go back alone and stya in a place I can get mail and just go on a fucking rampage #pack three peices of clothing come back with 30 #ANYWAY inspired by a very annoying search for a birthday present for myself #I know this is not a thing that affects...I think basically any of you but you're following me so you get to hear me bitch about it

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bemusedlybespectacled · 11 months

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Hi! I'm in law school rn and having a lot feelings and thoughts about it. Would ou share some thoughts and positivity? Am I in the right path? Cries and panics in finals are coming and I don't know if this is for me

IMO there are two potential reasons for these kinds of feelings:

You don't feel like this is the right path for you because you feel incapable/incompetent and lawyers are supposed to be Very Very Smart And Capable And Good At Shit All The Time.

You don't feel this is the right path for you because you just genuinely don't like law: you don't like compiling big piles of data into neat bins that match the elements of a particular statute or a specific holding or a coherent argument.

(The third potential reason is for later in your career, in which case it might be that you don't like certain elements of the practice of law: dealing with needy clients, meeting a billable hours requirement, working long hours, etc. In that case, you can always try changing the type of law you're doing - like, if you hate litigating in courtrooms, you might prefer going in-house, or becoming a law librarian, or being a clerk.)

If it's that you don't like law, you do not have to keep doing it. You are allowed to find something else that you like better. A couple of people in my law school class dropped out to be teachers; my clinic partner has a law degree and a PhD and has only ever taught as a professor; you do not have to throw good money after bad on a career that you don't like.

If it's that you feel incompetent and stupid and not like A Lawyer™ because lawyers are geniuses: first of all, I bet you are perfectly fine and can totally do this, because you got all the way here and that's pretty fucking hard already. But let's pretend that fear is actually true and you really are that bad (I doubt it): I promise you, I promise you that there are people practicing law right now who have no idea what the fuck they are doing. Not even in a cutesy "we all get imposter syndrome sometimes" way, I mean "holy fuck how are you still practicing" way.

The CPS attorney I worked across from in my old job did not know any of the rules of evidence, had no legal writing skills whatsoever, and couldn't handle making or defending objections to save her fucking life. She was the attorney for the entire fucking county.

I once got a response to a multi-page motion (like four pages of argument and another 25 or so of exhibits) that was two pages with enormous fucking margins and paragraph spacing, spelling errors, and no actual argument from a guy who had been practicing longer than I've been alive. I actually saved his reply (and the judgement with the footnote that says "as Attorney Bespectacled correctly notes in her brief") as a pick-me-up for when I'm feeling like a fucking idiot.

There are lawyers with a shitload of experience, who make millions of dollars taking on high profile cases, who fucking suck at it. Seriously, watch either of the Sandy Hook trials on the Law and Crime Youtube channel (or listen to any of the depositions that get covered on the Knowledge Fight podcast - they're all titled "Formulaic Objections") if you want to see just how bad a person has to be at being a lawyer in order to get sanctioned.

At one point when I was studying for the bar exam and panicking over it, my partner said, "Michael Cohen passed the bar exam, and I know you're smarter than him, so if he can pass it, so can you." I'm certain you're both smarter and a better person than, like, any of Trump's lawyers, or even a good chunk of my law school classmates (like the entirety of FedSoc cough cough).

But even if you're not, remember: there's only ever one CALI winner per class, so most people aren't going to ever get one. Most people who graduate law school and pass the bar and practice law are just incredibly fucking average. Like, that's just math. You're not a failure if you aren't the best, because most people aren't the best. You can still do very well in life as a lawyer even if you're just Some Person, because that's what most lawyers are.

(Also, sidenote: law school and actual law are very different environments. How you do in one has very little bearing on how you do in the other.)

tl;dr: You're going to be fine no matter what you end up deciding.

#eloonie #lawblr #real lawblr #law school #askbox #personal #bb is a lawyer

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davekat-sucks · 2 months

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The new update is majorly pissing me off. Why the hell do they write Davepeta like that? I mean, I don't like the character. But the writing is so OOC. It's weird. And all the cutesy talksprites are not it. The cashgrab aspect of the whole project is showing itself yet again. Davekat and Davepeta, the fan favorites despite their questionable narrative relevance. I have my money on the whole Meenkat arc being a setup for Dave to save Karkat from the terrible abuse of Meenah. The Knight saves the Knight and they ride off into the sunset to set the example of moral and healthy endgame yaois. Whatever makes the money.

And fine, I know running projects is hard or whatever. But typos in the dialogue? Come on, get a proofreader. The game itself is shitty too. I had to reload a couple of times because I tapped something and it took me to some inner workings screen. Annoying.

Just, eurgh. The Vriska and Tavros bit was pretty okay, though. And the art was nice.

Davepeta is only here for representation of gender neutral non-binary. Nobody gives a shit about Davesprite or Nepeta as individuals as they try to work together in mind, body, and soul to figure shit out. Instead, they are here just to say HEY LOOK! NEPETA IS ALIVE AND FUSED WITH A DEPRESSED SPRITE WHO IS NOT DEPRESSED SPRITE ANYMORE BECAUSE OF HER GENKINESS HELPING HIM BOTTLE IT UP AGAIN! SO IT'S ALL OKAY NOW!!!! Plus they continue to exaggerate on Nepeta's playfulness despite there is times she can be serious. Would they really go to say the MEENAH is the one abusive? Or are they going to say this because she tried to groom him years back? It ain't escaping the fact that according to Patreon posts, THEY FUCKED. Plus, nothing on screen or even in Patreon posts had shown Meenah abuse. At best, it is trying to set up that Karkat will move on from Meenah to go be with Dave and Meenah will support him because they are besties. That kind of cliche crap. And yeah, I noticed the typos there. They really had to rush this in. No doubt since the flash game is a VISUAL NOVEL. Not an actual game. Japanese players may have accepted this as a genre, but they should know Westerners don't accept it. Even a walking simulator is more of a game because it involves actual movement and exploration. Not many of these guys who sit down to read shit like Higurashi, Umineko, Fate/Stay Night, CLANNAD, or any other long visual novels. Which is unironic considering they had managed to tolerate Homestuck of all things. And watching the anime adaptation of said visual novel does not count. I'm still shocked people are still giving them any money. None of the stuff here in Beyond Canon is worth one damn cent.

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cryptid-killjoy · 8 months

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Valentine's Day was always such a big deal day for Flotsam. It turned into the cliche of all supermarket cliches at one point. He hated that inside more than anything at one point in his life. His late wife was a sucker for all the cutesy stuff, so everything in Flotsam's heart tried to make everything bigger and grander for her, and as absolutely as sentimental and meaningful as his heart could possibly articulate with symbolism. He had to put it all out there in hopes something inside it all would sink in her dense head and actually get her to hang onto it. Get him. Understand something about how his heart beat, his love language as people say. If he could just get her to understand something she'd stop.... just...just stop... and stay home, enjoy him and their family.

It didn't work out and he went on hating the very idea of Valentine's Day after he'd destroyed it with memories of putting his heart into such events like elaborate proposals of marriage, even getting Jetsam involved, filling the entire swamp with pink and blue flowers, PINK yes PINK. Pushing pink on Valerie/Flotsam when the man went through all that was like mental torture for a long time because of this very day. It sure as fuck didn't really have to do with Barbie. It was because of where his broken heart came from.

But that was the key now wasn't it? It was long healed over and he hadn't even noticed. It was a strange year for Flotsam because when he realized Valentine's Day was coming he started planning for it for an entire week before he realized that was his ex-old-anniversary. He was too busy planning for Thomas. Cinderella wasn't even a blip for a whole WEEK. A whole WEEK. It was as he was getting all the final details of Valerie's outfit together a small memory flashed as memories do. They didn't linger there on it. They were far too shocked with themselves in the actualization of it. Valentine's Day hadn't tripped them up. The memory of the jar of reasons didn't piss him off this time. It only looked like an image. Like Oh, there's that memory and then poof, it was gone. It used to make them so angry that a person could seem so real and sincere and put that much effort into something and then be so cruel as to walk away and just leave their kids with not but a damn bag. But, this time he felt absolutely... nothing. It just felt empty to think about it. Just nothing. They weren't walking around all moody broody. They weren't stressing it with a smile-mask on pretending they were fine like they used to. They had actually been... fine for real.

Woah. Fuck. He whispered to himself, "He fixed that." Thomas would forever be the onion picker, his fix it man. Thomas stayed home. Flo wasn't a moron. He wasn't some patriarcal wives should stay at home person. Someone had to figure out how to get money to live. They had it. Cinderella left anyway with other aspirations. They had it and Thomas used that money as a reason to stay home and spend time. That was the miracle difference in mindset. Do fun shit together with the time they've got here. Share aspirations together not save the world. You save the world by saving each other. It was such a simple concept to live by. It made him giggle soft to himself as he ran his hand over the outfit as the memory of Thomas's Valentine's Day went through his head. It was a trail of roses through Lothorien out to the forest, Tree, and a little camp, and a very naked Thomas covered in dark rose petals. Oh, Savvy-on-a-Cracker. That image was blazed into his head in way that was never going away. Thank goodness. If anyone was looking from the outside Flotsam would be turning a red flush just in recollection of that man being that ballsy. He laughed a little more. He couldn't stop grinning.

Flotsam was pretty darn sure by next Valentine's Day he wasn't even going to be remembering to be shocked at himself anymore. Evolution was great. Growing felt good. Maybe there was a small phase right here where he needed to be proud of himself for the realization for a moment or two as it passed by. Maybe it wouldn't even be mentioned come V-Day next in his mind, not but a smile, too busy with the fun to slow down and notice. Right now he didn't mind the memory blast to feel the adrenaline to give the credit he wanted to Thomas for being the best fix it guy in the damn universe for taking a heart as broken as his and making it feel this good on a day like this. He felt like a new man. Fuck, new woman too for that matter.

Boom. A natural woman. Aretha was in Flo's head the rest of the time they were getting ready. She decided to fuck all those store bought Valentine colors, red or pink. She didn't even buy flowers. Her sweet tooth didn't allow her to not buy a little candy, that was Val and her twin spirit now, but she decided to take the reigns this year. If Thomas had his own thing planned, that was okay. They could combine them, but when she saw this fuzzy coat she needed it on her skin. The satin inner lining was to die for against her ribs. A little part of her was starting to get wolf minded. It might not have been wolf fur, but she was gearing up for time. She wasn't quite ready, but she was getting there.

She rode the coat tails of Thomas's past date and instead of putting out rose petals she put out tiny mirror pieces, the kind that would be stuck to a outside of a disco ball, little sticker slivers, not broken pieces. It was the kind of mirror pieces created for making arts and crafts. She littered them through the house to make her trail instead of outside since it wasn't so great for the environment otherwise. Yes, she'd gotten Scout and Dale to babysit for a few hours so they could have some time to themselves.

The trail would start with a text image of her. "What do you think of my new single's cover? Do you think it has a good feel? Should I use a different one?" The song Natural Woman would be playing in the background, but it wouldn't be Aretha's voice. It'd be Valerie's voice. Another text would come in as he was walking. "Do you like this one better?" It'd be a picture of her with a full disco ball like all the little squares he was following through the house.

When he'd arrive to the area she'd had set of where she'd done the shoot. She wouldn't have been nake like him. She chose to go another route, but she'd be sitting there at the end of her trail of disco ball mirrors. It sat in the background somewhere while she sat there in her wolfy fur old vibey look waiting for him, her voice in the air.

"Happy Valentine's Day, My Love. You inspired me to do an old cover. You gave me some kind of feeling." Then she popped a rich chocolate from a box in her mouth. "Want one?"

#valeriexthomas

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sleepy-aletheas · 5 months

Text

Clockie: Dreamjoy Memoir Event and what the special endings reveal

It's ridiculous how much info is packed and hidden in the Clockie event. I wrote down the special endings, because that probably is the true history of Penacony than whatever we are told.

This also makes me think that the person that intercepts the text messages when we finish Hanu's minigames, is Hanu himself, because there is no definite conclusion of what happened with him, so I think it's reasonable to put him as a stand-in until the plot advances and tells us the truth.

Anyway, below the cut I transcribed the hand-written retelling of what the event reveals. Not everything is word-for-word, but that's to keep it at least a little bit shorter than the original text (my hand would actually fall off otherwise).

In short, the story is about: Penacony has a harsh history of waring for freedom, lies, backstabbing, manipulation, corruption. it's one big tragedy hidden as a cutesy cartoon, veiled in a golden dream and sticky SoulGlad.

But in the longer version, the story goes along these lines:

The Compass sets foot on the streets of Nightmareville, only seeing a wasteland. Flames licked the wooden houses, and hungry crocodiles roamed the ruins. ("What on earth is going on here?")

The Crew comes across an intoxicated Mr. Soda who wants to share the bubbly potion with them. ("I'm Mr. Soda. Would you new friends like to buy a few bottles of SoulGlad?")

Clockie doesn't want any, but the Crew take quite few. It's hard to refuse.

The Crew find an abandoned mine stacked with sparkling gems which seems to be the town's treasure vault. Clockie thinks it got to be worth good money. The Crew warn him, but Clockie takes many gems anyway. ("You don't really think about whose stuff you're taking when you usually open up chests, do you!")

Brother Hanu stumbles across the Crew in the mine, ready to fight these strangers. Clockie tries to beg for mercy, but Hanu arrests everyone. ("We were dancing to the jailhouse clock.")

Mr. Soda is a friend of Hanu and wants to resolve the conflict with the Crew. Hanu reluctantly agrees to ceasefire. Mr. Soda tells the story of how the crocodiles attack the Townfolk of Nightmareville all year round, and it wasn't until a shooting star fell that Hanu started to lead everyone to rise up. This makes Clockie admire Hanu.

The Crocs attack them. ("Brother Hanu, taste the wrath of Boss Stone!") They barely make it out the bloody battle. ("I- I feel like I'm about to stop ticking.")

Mirror Princess was seriously injured, her mirror scratched up, and she fell into deep sleep. Hanu disregards personal safety and plucks herbal medicine out of the croc's jaws and heals the princess.

At night, Boss Stone ambushes Hanu's stronghold. The Crew and Townfolk must fight. Hanu is confident, and everyone feels more at ease.

Clockie and Hanu temporarily defeat Boss Stone, but if the crocs don't leave, Nightmareville will always be locked in nightmares. The Crew would never turn a blind eye to this. They decide to help Hanu and the Townfolk to take back their happiness. ("The Crew of The Compass is truly loyal!")

Hanu and Clockie come across Sister Wildflower, who is currently being hunted by Lieutenant Chitters. ("If you want my help, hurry up and save me!") Hanu rescues Sister Wildflower. ("Here's a gossip: Hanu was totally blushing.")

Clockie comes across a Crybaby who is also a captured Townfolk. ("If you want my help, then you're gonna have to tell me a sob story!") Clockie tells about Master Hat. ("That's a real tearjerker. I hope you'll be even sadder in the future.")

Clockie meets Shopkeeper Leaf, who used to be one of Boss Stone's lackeys. ("If you want my help, tell me what's in it for me!") Clockie takes out a piece of treasure from The Compass, and Shopkeeper Leaf instantly joins the squad. ("Shouldn't we sign a service contract first?")

The squad grows and Boss Stone launches an ambush at Hanu's panic room. Many Townfolk are injured. ("They don't have any respect!") Hanu and the Crew team up to defend against the surprise attack. ("Friendship bounds, uh.. the future!")

Even if they won, the casualties are tragic. To commemorate those Townfolk and Crew members who gave their lives, Hanu hosts a funeral. Sister Wildflower sings a funeral dirge, and Hanu is sad during the song. Hanu gathers everyone to soon launch a counterattack. People are ready to give up their lives for freedom. ("This is for the dream to eat, drink, and be merry every day!")

The night before the battle, the Crew and Townfolk stage a grand party. This might be the start of a long and grand event or the final feast for everyone.. At the party everyone feels down. ("I'll settle down back in Watch City and get married after this fight.")

In the battle, Nightmareville pays a heavy price defeating Boss Stone, but he is able to stage a comeback. The Townfolk are anxious and all propose to Hanu to conduct peace talks. He agrees to the proposal, and Boss Stone shakes hands with the Townfolk to make peace. ("He really offered too much there.")

Boss Stone signs an agreement with Hanu to not let the Townfolk dig for gemstones again. He also gives Hanu a large financial stipend. Clockie convinces Hanu to take it to rebuild Nightmareville with Boss Stone. ("I guess that was all just a big misunderstanding before!")

Some Townfolk don't let go of old grudges and refuse to team up with Boss Stone. They sow chaos everywhere and raise resistance against Boss Stone. They're no longer ordinary Townfolk, so Hanu throws all the rebels into prison.

Many Townfolk were injured in the war, so Boss Stone hires the best doctor from the sea to offer free treatment. They get patched up and are gifted a large supply of health supplements. ("The first dosage is free for the initial cycle, and if you feel the effects are good, you can purchase more. Townfolk get a 20% discount.")

Hanu doesn't know how to develop the town, and the Townfolk blow through the money from Boss Stone. The Townfolk turn and complain about Hanu's incompetence. ("Boss Stone, he's an idiot who can barely string a sentence together.") ("Yeah, that's what I love about him.")

A Nightmareville faction grows against Hanu with riots and skirmishes out in the streets. Hanu calls for his mates for help. Shopkeeper Leaf comes up with a plan: ("Whoever causes any trouble, just take away their stipend! They've just had it too good for too long. Once they start to suffer a little, they'll behave!")

The town fell into despair, and Boss Stone offered a hand to Hanu's brothers, and told them that the most valuable thing in Nightmareville was its gems. He proposed that if they collaborated with him to develop the mines, the town could thrive once again.

Hanu and Boss Stone partner up to develop a large-scale gem extraction project to earn stacks of money for the town.

Boss Stone grows really popular and decides to publish an autobiography. However, Hanu realizes that Boss Stone erased all his wrongdoings from the book. Hanu doesn't care for the lies and lets the book go viral. ("Boss Stone, enslaving us? There's such thing as being too unhinged!")

The time is ripe for hammering out negotiations. Boss Stone thinks he deserves to enjoy more power as the hero who brought happiness to Nightmareville. Hanu refuses and Boss Stone takes away all previous funding. ("Brother, unlabeled gifts are the most expensive ones of all.")

Boss Stone is posturing for war; down with Hanu. He picks out two special dark secrets to reveal to the Townfolk.

Hanu secretly executed his partner, Sister Haru, to consolidate his power. ("Who is Sister Haru?")

Hanu seized the compass from The Compass and forced the Crew to serve him. ("Why don't I know about this!?")

Boss Stone lets the Townfolk decide what to do with Hanu; attack, or be under his tyranny. Boss Stone announces the Townfolk choosing war, even if never releasing any evidence, and people buy into it. ("Nobody disputes it, which means it's perfectly reasonable.")

Boss Stone lays out his dream for the town before the Crew; Nightmareville should turn into the richest town in the world. To do that, the Crew has to help subdue Hanu. Clockie chooses to help Boss Stone defeat Hanu, hoping it will be a wakeup call for Hanu. ("Boss Stone is doing his best for everyone. I'm sorry, Brother Hanu.")

Boss Stone exhausts Hanu and wins the war. Hanu is imprisoned, and the Townfolk once more becomes Nightmareville's staff. Of course, it's all legal. Seeing Hanu turn into a prisoner, Clockie feels uneasy. But he understood that it was the best outcome for the Townfolk. Or was it really?

The crocs kept digging for memoria, while they made people build a wall against an upcoming storm. To buy their protection, the people had to give their valuable gems as protection money. They must do so at a ceremony. ("I'll provide the services and you pay. That's the law of this world.")

The contract, if signed, would trap the Townfolk forever inside voluntarily. ("Even so, it's better than dying out there in the storm, right?")

Clockie and Captain Revolver sneak into the construction site and embed a bomb inside the already laid out bricks. It detonates, and the debris splashes right into the nearby Boss Stone.

The people still have to submit, because it's better to lose their freedom than be outside in the storm.

The walls get higher, blocking out wind, sand, and even sunshine. Dreamville turns back to Nightmareville under Boss Stone's 'protection'.

Clockie vanishes. Then he returns, and people see him as their leader, and hope he can persuade Old Man Wood to give up his position.

Clockie gallops into the wilderness, remembering his days on The Compass and firmly believes that Dreamville should bring comfort and freedom.

The Cowboys never wanted to be a part of Dreamville, wanting to live outside in the desert. They bullied the town until Clockie gave them a sense of justice, maintaining peace and order. (There is nothing wrong with this -wanting to live outside. Most importantly, everyone should be happy!")

The Cowboys make an alliance and want to comfort Old Man Wood. ("Old Man Wood seeks unity to enforce rules, but our unity is for freedom!")

Old Man Wood wants to get his hands on the desert no matter what: ("The land is the desert is the most important treasure in the town!"), refusing the amicable proposal of the Cowboys. He wants to allocate them to an autonomous area, and keep the rest.

Old Man Wood raises weapons to the Cowboys, and they flee back to the desert. Clockie apologizes to them and they throw a party to cheer him up. He guzzles up bottles of SoulGlad containing excessive stones, and drunkenly promises to fulfill the Cowboys' dreams. ("Are woods and trees inherently nobler than us...")

Old Man Wood raises a forest as a wind barrier, keeping the town and desert separated. A divide keeps growing between the people, marking their estrangement. But Clockie secretly opens a passage through which the Townfolk can leave to the desert. ("One day, we will tear down this forest!")

Less people in the town made Old Man Wood question why they would abandon their warm and beautiful town. ("It's because of novelty, that's all.")

The Cowboys and Townfolk are tired and decide to burn down the forest. In response, Old Man Wood launches a campaign to cut off resources to the desert, leaving them to starve in the wasteland; Clockie is disappointed in him. Old Man Wood expected people to turn on each other, instead they helped out. Clockie was also helping during that period, hoping it would teach Old Man Wood a lesson. ("It's better to overestimate than underestimate human nature!")

The Cowboys and Townfolk for a decentrilized force that tries to fight for their freedom. ("Our goal is freedom, not victory.") Old Man Wood takes the folk that sides with him to force them into submission. ("Chaos is not equivalent to freedom, Clockie.")

The Cowboys win and Old Man Wood despairs. He bids farewell to the town he cherished. the Cowboys celebrate and divide the town's territory into pieces, each representing a piece of their newfound land of freedom.

Clockie and Old Man Wood form a partnership again to do good for the future; a paradise.

Someone was penniless in Dreamville. ("What should we do, Old Man Wood?") Old Man Wood would take away the person's desires. No dissatisfaction should be in Dreamville. ("Buck up, and enjoy free SoulGlad on the Golden Street!")

Someone committed a crime in Dreamville. ("What should we do, Old Man Wood?") Old Man Wood would take away the criminal's evil thoughts. No baddies should be in Dreamville.

Someone is sick in Dreamville. Old Man Wood took their worries. No pain is allowed in Dreamville. ("You can't feel pain now. Cheer up!")

Hurting others? Old Man Wood inflicted the same mount of pain on the culprit. No hurting each other in Dreamville.

Permanently departing Dreamville? Old Man Wood made wood sculptures of the departed. No separation in Dreamville. ("Brother Hanu, Mirror Princess, and Captain Revolver are also back!")

Addicted to joy of games? Make them unable to feel the joy of playing games. No addiction in Dreamville. ("Bad games make people mad!")

Treason? No betrayal in Dreamville. ("Because everyone must be loyal to him.")

Reminiscing about the past Dreamville? No. ("Because there is only the present here.")

Meaning of life? Old Man Wood answered. There were no questions in Dreamville. ("Old Man Wood in the smartest tree!")

Questioning the ruling of Dreamville? No skepticism in Dreamville. ("Because he's right.")

Desire freedom in Dreamville? Give it to them, but leave them nothing else. ("That's the price of freedom.")

Over time Dreamville became united as one. Old Man Wood was nurtured into a towering tree that shelters all the Townfolk with its shade. There, Clockie also stopped thinking and immersed himself in joy.

("Old Man Wood can solve all the problems.")

...

The..end?

#penacony spoilers #hsr spoilers #hsr clockie #the event lives rent-free in my mind running circles as i try to figure out who is who #if there are any grammar mistakes then i blame the week long ongoing migraine and light sensitivity #i wanna take clockie by his face and shake him hard enough so the whole lore drops out of him without allegorical rewording

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