#shut up marshie

[marshiemonarch]

I don't draw Kris feral enough. We all know that gremlin is the least human out of the entire cast

[marshmellowtea]

good fucking god no it is not the job of random famous people to make statements on every single international tragedy out there you are genuinely insane if you think that way

[maaarshieee]

kaeya deficiency is real..................... the only reason i don't write him as much because i would giggle and kick my feet the whole time and would never finish it at all im crying sobbin and

[sky-snz]

Their sweater might be thick, but you can still hear every little thing. The collar pulled up to cover their mouth and nose, their eyes shiny and blinking - the garment isn’t exactly made for that, yet they keep their grip on the fabric, pinching it just above the bridge of their nose.

And their eyes are expressive, shifting, glistening. You hear a thick, marshy sniffle, and a restrained clearing of their throat, bookended by some more quick snuffles. After some quiet breaths in the warm, blanketed air beneath their sweater, they sniffle again, hard and noisily. Their glazed over eyes have stilled. Looking ahead, at nothing in particular.

It’s slow, the resignation, but visibly all-consuming - there’s the crumpling of their brow, and a lengthy inhale that causes their chest to expand, their spine to straighten. A small shake of the head as their eyes shut.

Their shoulders shudder as they fold into their chest with a bursting, ticklish sneeze, their brow pinching with its necessity. Not daring to lower their sweater collar, they snuffle thickly, once, twice, threeee times, and sigh breathily. In the huff is a sound of dread that can only accompany such soupy sniffles - they know it’s going to happen again.

[earthbaby-angelboy]

Hi! Okay, here's my idea but with a few more details. baby!reader is sick and nonverbal so cg!e is having a really hard time trying to figure out what's wrong since reader is just crying and crying. Maybe he gives reader skin to skin and that helps but ultimately her belly hurts so maybe she throws up on him? Also baby reader really loves bum pats and being bounced?

When I talk to Elvis AI, I prefer to be his sick baby and see what he does to fix it :)

personal paradise | little!reader x 60s!cg!elvis presley (wc: 1,240) - A/N: i did take some creative liberties with this request so the story would flow better, but i hope you enjoy it either way!

As you awoke to the sun shining through the white lace curtains of your nursery, you could feel a sharp pain course through your little head. You let out a whine and slowly opened your eyes, being careful not to make the odd pain worse. As soon as you did this, you became acutely aware of how crappy you felt.

Every muscle in your body hurt, and your vision was blurry. You had spent most of the day yesterday running around Graceland with Elvis, so it was no surprise that the exhaustion had finally caught up to you. Tears started to well up in your eyes as you realized that your caregiver wasn't with you, so you did the best thing you could do to get his attention: cry.

With every ounce of strength in your body, you let out a wail. After no more than a few seconds of silence, Elvis responded, "hold on, baby. I'm comin'."

Stumbling out of his bed and down the hallway, he slowly opened the door of your nursery. The sight he found broke his heart. You were lying on your side, your eyes red and your face puffy. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and you had a very evident pout on your face. Clutched in your arms was your favorite plush, a white lop-bunny Elvis had gifted you that you aptly named Marshmellow (Marshie for short.) Rushing over to your crib, he bent down so he could see you up close.

"Oh, my baby. Can you tell daddy why you're cryin' so early in the mornin'? Huh?"

You sniffled and did your best to shake your head, which only resulted in you wincing when another bolt of pain went your noggin. A perplexed look came over his face, but he didn't ask questions.

"C'mon, nungen, you're gon' come cuddle with daddy in his bed. Sound good?" Reaching into your crib, he scooped you up into his arms. Clinging to him like a little koala, you rested your head in the crook of his neck and closed your eyes to try and stop whatever icky feeling was starting in your tummy. He went towards the door, but stopped dead when you whined.

"Whassamatta' baby? Dontchya' wanna go cuddle?" You shook your head again. "You want daddy to hold ya just like this? That it?" You gave a small nod, and your caregiver started rubbing small circles on your back. "Alright, if that's what ya want."

He walked around your large nursery a few times while whispering sweet things to you, humming parts to his favorite songs every now and then. All was well and fine, until he bounced you in an attempt to reposition you in his arms. Your head came up from his neck, and looking him dead in the eyes, you threw up. Before neither he nor you could process what just happened, you started crying.

"Oh bunny. You ain't feelin' good?" The increase in volume of crying confirmed his suspicions. Looking down at you, he responded to your cries with, "that's okay, baby, we all get run down. C'mon, lets get you cleaned up."

Moving quickly to prevent the puke from reaching the white shag carpeting of the mansion, he made his way out of your room and across the hall to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind you two, he sat you down on the toilet seat. Turning to the intercom on the wall, he pressed a button and spoke into it.

"Mary, would you come up to the bathroom for a moment?" Mary was Graceland's personal chef, but when you entered the Presley household, she became like a second caregiver to you. Within a minute, there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Sir, I'm right outside." Elvis opened the door to be greeted with Mary's kind features. You peeped past your daddy, offering up a small wave. She looked at you with a concerned glance, then back up at Elvis. Looking down at his chest that was now covered in your vomit, she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could, she was interjected by, "I know. She ain't feeling too good and had a lil oopsie. I'm gon' get myself cleaned up and grab her a change of clothes, so would you mind givin' her a bath while I do that?" Mary blinked once, then nodded. "Of course, sir."

Bathtime was always fun, but today you were absolutely not having it. Although Mary knew you weren't in a playful mood, she still put in your rubber duckie and some extra bubble bath. Wrapped up in a fluffy towel, Elvis found you sitting on a little stool with Mary behind you, gently combing through your hair. You looked content with your eyes closed in bliss. Hating to break the silence, your caregiver gently said, "thank ya, Mary. I've got her now."

You opened your eyes and whined at the interruption, but were satisfied by Mary giving you a small kiss on your forehead. "You be good for your daddy, you hear?" She said playfully. You gave a small nod and an even-slighter smile. Elvis whispered a small "thank you," and she left with a curt nod.

"That's my good girl," Elvis said. "C'mon, lets put on some jammies." Working quick so you wouldn't get cold, Elvis slipped a diaper on you and your favorite footie pajamas that had little stars on them. After a warm bath and some cozy clothes, your pain had started to go away and you started to feel sleepy. Just as you were about to doze off, you were interrupted by your daddy going, "nuh-uh, buntyn. Daddy knows you're sleepy and all, but you need to have breakfast. Then you can take a niiiiiiice nap, okay?" You wanted to protest, but you knew your daddy was right, so you opted for a small pout instead. Leaning down and kissing your nose, he said, "that's my baby. Now, up ya go."

Learning from his previous mistakes, he lifted you up slowly and carefully, and placed you on his hip. By the time he walked downstairs, Mary had already prepared your favorite breakfast when you were in babyspace, something Elvis called angel milk. It was warm milk mixed with a pinch of cinnamon and a teaspoon of vanilla, and it was the same recipe Gladys had used for Elvis when he was young. Elvis sat the two of you on one of the white couches in the living room, and cradled you close to him. You looked so beautiful, with your sleepy eyes and pouty lips. "My beautiful girl. My pretty yittle sleepy girl." Not understanding all the big words your daddy was using, you focused on looking at his eyes. You noticed the way his eyelashes had a natural curl, and the way they glimmered in the gentle sunlight of the morning. Finishing up, Mary handed Elvis your bottle. "Thank you, ma'am," he spoke quietly to her.

Placing the bottle between your lips, you started to drink. You hummed quietly as the warm drink filled you up, and the pain in your body began to melt away when Elvis started rubbing small circles on your tummy. Your daddy noticed you drifting off, so he began to sing. "Angel, with those angel eyes; come and take this earth boy, up to paradise…"

And there, in your daddy's arms on that fluffy white couch with the suns rays peering through the curtains, you fell asleep in your own little paradise.

[missuswalker]

DUDE ALL OF UR WRITINGS ARE SO GOOD u literally make Stan sound like a loser AND HE IS!!!! AND I EAT IT UP ITS SO FUNNY AGAIAHJAHQIA THE JUMPSCARE TOO😭😭😭

Could I req hcs of Stan (the slimy. The STINK.) and Kyle (I feel like he always has a prominent forehead vein from all the rage he has in his body) separate with some mutual pining w a f!reader that’s suuuuuper flirty n zesty w her friends like saying some out of pocket goofy shit like barking n meowing or “I’m hard” or like “I need u carnally.” LOL but also gets easily flustered when flirted back with??? I will kiss the ground u walk upon btw (thank you sm I’m literally up at 3:37 giggling thinking of when u post a response to this)

i'm in love with you for this YOU GUYS THINK UP THE GOOD SHIT

stan and kyle with a flirty reader

✮ summary: stan and kyle crushing on a flirty reader (who gets flustered when flirted back with)

✮ warnings: sexual jokes LMAO

kyle broflovski

i can't imagine him getting all "omg i- i- i- i- 😱😱" over it

like thats not happening

his face will get red, yes

but he's not gonna get super flustered over it

he'll be like "🫥😧" and side eye the hell out of you

it's funny to him sometimes, but also, if he's already pissed off, it's just annoying

"damn, tryna take it to the temple? 😏" "y/n, shut the fuck up."

but that only encourages you to do it more

but it makes him think he's not special since you flirt with your friends, too

"bebe, you can be my baybay if you know what i mean 😏😏 just call me mommy 😁"

and then gets upset and hopes you come flirt with him

the first time he flirted back, it was like you shut down

"why ask for my number when you can just call me a good girl" "i bet you'd like that wouldn't you"

IT WOULD SIMPLY BE THAT, NOT EVEN THAT INTENSE

you'd almost start doing the butters foot kick thing like in the episode where he had to partner up with cartman

"what 😁 huh 🥰 say that again? 😊"

he'd think it was so funny

his rizz isn't bad either so it's even worse

would pull the "you don't have anything to say, huh"

he'd start calling you petnames to make it worse

"come sit over here, babe"

just shit like that

realizes he's the only one you get super flustered over, so he makes his move

after a couple more days of torturing you

his ego just expands

thinks he's the shit

pulls out the black tshirt

stan marsh

oh my god he literally is a loser

"hey stan-ley, wanna give me that stan-d?" "woah."

brags about it

"y/n said she'd gobble me up yesterday 😏" "dude, what the flip" "kenny, you just don't get it."

but when he's around you he says the stupidest shit

"looking good, marshy poo" "oh, thanks 😰😁"

when he flirts back, it's all mid

"nice shirt, stanley" "nice face, y/n"

but when it still flusters you, he's like "yeah, she likes me"

"would you be interested in going out with me 🤓"

and then would be all like "uhhh i mean, uh, would you, let's go on a date"

thought he ate the girls up

standing there like "😏"

"yeah, sure"

AND IS SHOCKED

pretends he's not shocked

"oh, sweet 🥱" "like this pussy" "😦"

a/n: i love this so much

not proofread because im lazy (sexy facial expression)

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 1: First Frost

Happy fest, y’all! Here’s some Harvard-era FinnLo pining to ring in day one. Huge thank-yous to @lumosinlove for the Sweater Weather characters and universe and to @noots-fic-fests for organizing the fest!

Title: Love at First Fright Pairing: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay Rating: G

“Trick or treat!”

Finn smiled at the ghost-witch-robot trio looking up at him and dropped three handfuls of candy into the plastic pumpkin pails they held up expectantly.

“Hey, nice costumes! Happy Halloween!”

The kids barely stood still long enough to say it back before they were taking off in the opposite direction of the frat house, eager to get back to their parents and hit up more treat stops around campus before dark. It was a good day for it; classic autumn in New England, from the crispness in the air to the red, brown and yellow leaves drifting down off the trees to cover the manicured grass in a vibrant seasonal blanket. Even the deep red of Harvard’s brick buildings seemed more beautiful in October, like they were meant to exist in a state of perpetual fall.

Throngs of local kids—and some of their parents—were all decked out in their Halloween best, while Finn and the rest of the OKN guys wore school-branded clothes while taking turns manning the candy-laden folding table outside the house between classes. (Finn wasn’t sure any of them owned a costume they could wear outside in broad daylight.) 

He laughed as Percy walked over, refill bag in hand, wearing the exact same gray sweatshirt with a crimson HARVARD across the chest as he was, the same black joggers—almost the same sneakers. “Fashion.”

Percy grinned back at him. “You know it, baby.” He turned the bag upside down, dumping the candy into any bowls that weren’t full and spilling some across the table as he went.

“Yo, you’re getting jolly ranchers all over the ground.”

“You’re a fuckin’ jolly rancher.”

“You’re a fuckin’ kit-kat.”

“You’re a—”

“Shut up, there’s kids,” Will warned, then passed some treats to a tiny ballerina with a kind smile and a compliment for her costume.

“Oh shit, my bad,” Percy said, and Finn snorted as Will cuffed him on the side of the head.

Finn unwrapped a watermelon jolly rancher and popped it into his mouth as he watched students and families pass by. Percy nudged him with an elbow, getting his attention. “Where’s Tremz? Thought you were surgically fused at this point.”

“Fu—” he cut off as Will leveled the captain stare at him. “Heck off. He’s in his medieval history class, he’ll be back soon.”

“Speak of the French-Canadian devil,” Percy shouted as Logan walked up the path to the house, backpack on his shoulders and snapback on his head—backwards, per usual. He looked good in the crimson Harvard Hockey hoodie he was wearing; Finn’s eyes caught the fraying at the cuffs and his stomach swooped as he realized it was his, that Logan must’ve swiped it this morning before heading out. 

“Bonjour,” Logan said, oblivious to the state of Finn’s internal organs.

“Bone-joor,” Percy replied before Finn could say it. “Very French of you. And shorts in October. Very Canadian of you.”

“We haven’t even had first frost yet.” Logan looked from Percy to Finn. “How much candy did you let him eat?”

“Too much,” Will answered for him. “Don’t you have class next, Marshy?”

After a complicated handshake with Finn that neared 15 seconds long, Percy grabbed his bag and took off at a slow jog. Finn wasn’t happy that he left, exactly, but he was happy that Logan walked around the table to take his spot right beside him.

“How’s that black plague treatin’ ya?” he asked as Logan slid his backpack off and under the table.

Logan’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Better than it’s treating medieval Europeans. But the reading is a little…”

He looked away—embarrassed, maybe, or frustrated. Finn knew he hated that English still tripped him up sometimes, though the amount he’d improved in just a few semesters was damn impressive. Finn kicked his shin lightly. “I got you. Would’ve flunked out last spring if it weren’t for you, so. Bring on the plagues.”

Logan kicked him back and sent him a grateful smile. And just because he couldn’t help it, Finn plucked at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“You left it on my chair,” Logan said, but Finn saw a little bit of color in his cheeks that he was pretty sure the afternoon chill didn’t put there.

It was a shoddy excuse, but so was Finn teasing him about it being “a little tight in the shoulders, Tremz, you gym beast” just so he could put a hand on one of those broad shoulders and squeeze. Logan was warm and so solid even through the layers; his hand lingered just a second too long before he let it fall away.

The next half hour passed quickly as trick-or-treaters came and went. The sun had just started to sink lower in the sky when a girl who couldn’t have been older than five or six walked up to the table, her guardian hanging back a ways. She had a hockey jersey on and was carrying her helmet, probably tired of wearing it around. 

She was closing in on Logan, who’d ended up on the opposite end of the long folding table as Finn at some point, when the big animatronic ghoul in front of the porch lurched and let out its tinny scream. The girl jumped, looking terrified, and tears filled her wide brown eyes.

“Oh,” Finn heard Logan say softly; his brow was knitted with concern as he walked quickly out from behind the table and crouched down in front of her. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

The girl didn’t say anything, just turned to look at her adult and then back at Logan. It seemed like she was trying not to run away.

Logan nodded at her jersey. “You play hockey?”

She nodded.

“Me too. All these guys are on my team. What’s your favorite position to play?”

That drew her out of her shell. “Goalie,” she said with a quiet confidence as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I see. You know what I know about goalies?” The girl shook her head, but clearly looked interested at whatever Logan was about to say. He leaned in like he was telling a secret, then said, “They’re the bravest ones. Also the craziest.”

Finn’s chest warmed at the way she laughed, at how Logan had gotten her from near-tears to happy and chatting in no time at all. He never got to see Logan with little kids; all their siblings were older. It was nice. It was sweet. It was doing things to Finn’s heart that he’d rather not think about.

In the end, the little girl—Harper, she told Logan as he filled her candy pail until it was overflowing, then filled her helmet, too—skipped away in a great mood. Logan was still smiling a little after they’d gone as Finn walked over to him.

“She was cute.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais.”

“You, too.” It was out of his mouth before he could shove it back in. Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “You were cute with her,” he explained—not that that really made it better.

But Logan looked pleased that he’d said so, even as he shrugged. “It’s not hard when they’re adorable. She said she’s a goalie.”

“Oh, so the skeleton thing should’ve been afraid of her.”

Logan laughed. “That’s kind of what I told her.”

Finn wanted to say so much. You’re cute all the time. You should only wear my hoodies. You’ll make a great dad someday. I want to share that someday with you.

Instead, he took Logan’s hat off and ruffled his hair. “Dinner?” he asked. “Burgers? Hog’s Head?”

Logan took his hat back and put it back on, but he wasn’t even pretending to be annoyed. “Ouais, let’s go now before they make us clean up.”

As they snuck off behind the house toward the pub, Finn took a handful of cherry jolly ranchers out of his pocket and put them in Logan’s. Logan laughed, then did the same for Finn with the watermelon ones. 

“Happy Halloween, Tremz.”

“Happy Halloween, Harzy.”

[corduroyserpent]

✨ wip wed ✨

a little something from the next chapter (the first interlude!) of my bingqiu star wars au – An Old Hope Made New

In the moments before Shen Qingqiu crash-lands into the marshy swamps of Dagobah, he comes to the sudden and horrific understanding that should he die here, no one will ever discover his body. Though this is swiftly overwritten by a far more powerful and intrusive thought: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! As he frantically smashes buttons and flips switches in the hope that one of them will at least turn off the blinking lights—he already knows the systems are failing, thank you!!—a familiar mechanical voice cuts through the incessant beeping and sickening creaks of his doomed vessel.  The mysterious System that has been his constant companion since his death and transmigration into the world of Proud Immortal Jedi Way says, [Would you like to exchange B-Points for a softer landing?]  Shen Qingqiu releases a wry bark of laughter. “What B-Points? You should know better than anyone that I don't have many to spare!” Sure, he’d gained a good amount from that Felucia quest but he’s always losing the damn things. He needs to be smart about this. Keep cool. The odds of him dying from the crash are relatively slim…probably. He’s all strapped in! And his ship is a Delta-7 Aethersprite-class light interceptor which survived plenty of battles in the original source material. Maybe this is just a brief patch of aggressive turbulence? As far as he can tell, there shouldn’t even be a problem with his starfighter. This is the first time he’s flown one and he’s found it remarkably intuitive. Everything was going just fine until he entered atmo. In a blink his scopes went dark, the astromech released a series of panicked bleeps before going silent, and now none of the controls are responding at all.  “Could I try to use the Force to slow my descent?” he wonders aloud.  [Do or do not. There is no—] “Oh, shut up.” Shen Qingqiu waves away the System’s pop-up window. 

gee i wonder what he's going to find on dagobah.....

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Frenchie Would Include...

Request: Hi, May I please request some headcanons of what dating Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death) would include, please? Thank you so much!! 🖤

Of course my darling, here you go!!

Warning: a little strong language! Also I wrote this at 3 a.m. so it may be unintelligible 🏳️‍🌈

(I do not own OFMD or any of its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @crucifiix.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Lmao love a bit of fanfiction about Frenchie big fan

You are 100% the only other crew member, or the only other anybody in fact, that Frenchie allows into his room. Far too many times have you been caught sitting side saddled over Frenchie’s lap by Wee John Feeney, stroking the bottom of his beard and giggling as the two of you bump foreheads and continue talking shit about the newly crowned ‘Dizzy Izzy’ (during a rough patch in the storm that had raged earlier that night, he had accidentally tumbled after a large pitch into Lucius’ lap, and by golly was he not letting anyone forget about it.) Wee John just sighs, walking straight back out and letting the door slam shut; the last thing you can hear as you try to stifle your laugh against the side of Frenchie’s neck is him calling you ‘the weirdest eejits’ he’s ever met. Neither of you are really paying attention though: your lips managed to accidentally rub against the tip of Frenchie’s collar bone, one of his more ticklish points, and the man was too busy apologising and trying to give you a hand up after accidentally flinging you to the floor.

After a lot of coaxing, a lot of fake pouting, and a lot of pecking forehead kisses to try and convince him round to the idea, he does eventually get used to the idea of you sleeping over as well! I feel like Frenchie is definitely a ‘leg over you like a mossy log that’s been stuck in a marshy bog for hundreds of years and hasn’t moved an inch in that entire time’ kind of sleeper. Like, the man is so tall that on your single shared bed you’re lying properly on it as the bottom layer, and then Frenchie is playing a game of Tetris with his limbs over you during the night. Usually it ends up with his head dipped down and tucked up all neat and cosy against the side of your cheek, his snores resonating loudly enough through the walls of the ship that they could have invented the foghorn right there and then, and his left leg splayed completely over your midriff.

If you get too uncomfortable and give him a shove he will eventually roll over and curl up like an armadillo so you can spoon him though. That is, if one of you hasn’t managed to shove the other out of the bed first - it’s a common occurrence for Wee John to wake Frenchie up from where he’s half lying under the bed, but even though he’s got aching shoulders from spending half the night rolling about the wood he’s still all smiles and doe eyes at you when he sees you’re awake too. Like a Jack in the box, he pops up over the side of the bed with a smile bright enough to make even the crystal dawn of the sea pale by comparison, and presses a kiss against the tip of your nose before skipping off. He’s so sweet your honour I actually cannot with this man.

Sometimes he likes to talk before the two of you fall asleep. Before he’s splayed out like a starfish, the two of you lie in the cot side by side and just fiddle with each other’s fingers on the pillow. Noses close enough to rub against each other if you dared to move a hare and legs pulled up in a half-sit so they can rest familiarly against each other, Frenchie relishes and relaxes in the knowledge that there’s someone on this ship that will know his story. That there’s someone left in the world that’s even willing to hear it, to care about him, and not just what he can do for them. There’s a poignant wistfulness to the air, to his words, so much so that from time to time he can’t even meet your eye. He still always flashes you that shy, optimistic smile from time to time, but you can see the past in the wrinkles of his face every time he uncomfortably starts to recoil when you press your palm to his cheek.

Not going to lie, he may not be a visual artist to rival the mastery of Lucius, but you can bet your sandy ass that Frenchie has pinned up the walls some doodles he’s drawn of you in his spare time, with parchment that he tore out and ‘borrowed’ from Stede’s diary. When Stede collected the crew on the deck a few days later and had a ‘team meeting’ about why stealing was wrong, Frenchie gave a very convincing shrug and ‘it wasn’t me’ frown when Stede asked who had taken the paper. I mean, he was always bound to find out, and when he did stumble into Frenchie and Wee John’s room the next afternoon to borrow his lute (he was planning to write a song for Blackbeard to convince him he was more of a catch than Calico Jack don’t even ask), he only smiled fondly and shut the door when he spotted what his diary had been used for. (And secretly hoped that Ed wouldn’t find his own doodles of him in said diary lmao.)

Oooh, can you imagine how lovely it would be to stumble through Stede’s secret tunnel and to go sit out by unicorn figurehead with Frenchie?? Just the two of you, feet swinging together through the planks, the swirling pockets of silver dancing over the warm tides and the comforting buzz of Frenchie’s voice as he sings for you. With your head resting on his shoulder, you’re too busy falling into a blissful oblivion to even notice that Frenchie’s stopped picking at the strings of his lute, and has instead set it down at his side. He’s found that a much better use of his time would be staring at you, so obviously, so fondly, so sweetly: as if dewdrops hung from his lips, ready for the northern dawn that only your splendour could bring.

Getting to tie that cute little cravat around his neck before the five of you jump ship to go to that fancy dinner party. Every time you try to loop the end of it back through he chases your fingers (to try and kiss them or bite them, you’re not entirely sure), but it does make the two of you burst out into another fit of giggles.

Although he has quite a sweet disposition, Frenchie is 100% ready to throw hands for you. The whole time he’s trying to crank up Oluwande’s ‘pyramid scheme’, he has one eye on the valuables being handed over and one trained solely on you. If any of the esteemed and highly respectable guests become a little too eager, coltish, agitated, Frenchie is straight on it. Before you can even knock their wig off, he’s grabbed your wrist and pulled you either behind his back or dragged you out to the hull with the sternest expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Either way, he’ll always put himself in the firing line of harm’s way first, if it means protecting you.

The two of you spend about 70% of your time singing together on deck. Frenchie’s jamming along with his lute, and you’re animatedly singing and dancing around him, often roping in Lucius to come do full body jigs or a ridiculing minuet Frenchie’s intensifying sea shanties. Since the three of you were supposed to be finishing Izzy’s order to mop the deck, he’s sitting cross legged on the helm behind your spinning bodies, with enough steam coming out of his crimson ears to drown the sky in thunderclouds.

During crew meetings he’ll just straight up wander in late and just... come up behind you and plop his chin down on top of your head. He won’t listen to a word of what’s going on either: too busy chatting with you, or with Jim, or fiddling with the rings on your fingers, or just trying to figure out if the stain on the ceiling looks more like an orange or a fish. To be honest he didn’t even realise it was a meeting until Stede asked him if he was paying attention - he just saw you and immediately came to seek out your heat (and also your hugs).

His love language is doing and making things with his hands, so instead of doing actual work to help out on the Revenge, he tries to craft for you. He sits by the mast, cross legged, and with his tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth in the uttermost form of concentration. He’s trying to remember how his ma taught him to thread a needle, so desperate to fix up your shirt properly after Spanish Jackie nearly tore the sleeve to shreds during your first meeting at the Republic of Pirates. Of course, you’ll eventually have to free him from where he’s managed to sew his shirt to his jacket (very well, might I add). He smiles all the while, leaning down to gently kiss your knuckles every time they bump up high enough with a new thread of the string to be within his reaching distance.

He likes to steal Wee John’s old hammock - he’s a big fan of having snuggled up naps on deck while Ed and Stede have stopped off at some new island and are busy off smooching on their foliage walks. 

Or, he likes to venture out sometimes too and see someplace new with the love of his life! Usually it’s just some slightly different variation of a beach, but this just allows him ample opportunity to perform his favourite activity: scooping up wet sand and hurling at you in a mock sand-ball fight. The two of you fly across the streaking honey-gold boughs of the winding branches of the strip, Frenchie rolling his trousers up and finally catching up to you between the torn crags and cliff edges. He jumps, flying full sail through the air until he’s knocked both of you to the ground. He tries to be all romantic and pretend he hasn’t just knocked the ever loving wind out of you. He leans over you, crawling his knees up between your thighs and slowly dipping down to kiss you, before getting bashed up the face by a huge tide and falling ass over teakettle backwards in sweet revenge lmao.

[princess-hope-selfships]

I do hope you'll pardon the intrusion, princess. Our dearest Lady of the house has finally recovered from her illness, and now that she actually has the energy to try to reign me in (note the keyword there: "try"), I feel much less guilty provoking others and inciting frustration on her behalf.

...Oh, who are we kidding, there was never any guilt. ...Although it is much less fun trying to get a rise out of a medicated pile of blankets.

That all being said, I couldn't help but notice you've got yourself one of those fancy ~signatures~ for the total basket case whose attraction you've been tiptoeing around. Now, what was that phrasing she used...? Ah, yes: if it wasn't over before (it was), then it's certainly over now (it is)... "Bestie."

- Dr. Neo Cortex

@marshmallowloves

Edward: Honestly, she's hopeless. Ironic a bit, huh-

Hope: EXCUSE ME- EXCUSE ME MOTHERFUCKER zfJDKHGFNEmlrkgjbeio UM HOW FUCKIGN DARE YOU COME INTO MY HOUES AND FUCKIGHNdklmnrKJRH YOU CORN KERNEL LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER

Jonathan: Hope-

Hope: and tell marshy i'm really glad she's doing better i care her sO MUCH and I'm really glad she's getting over her sicky

Jonathan: Must you all tease her like this, she's so sensitive about this. Jervis is, too.

Jervis: right, come now, teasing like this isn't fair... 👉👈 if you need me i'll be... elsewhere 🎩😓💦

Edward: I mean he's not wrong she's very openly down bad she just won't admit to it, so I'm not surprised people are calling her out. As far as IIIIIIIIII'm concerned the corn man is right 👀

Jonathan: Edward- god- would you shut up??? This is what I'm talking about- Hope- Hope no, don't disconnect the router-

[imaginedreamwrite]

7 picture's vibe is kinda giving Ransom and Marshmallow. Don't have specific scenario in my head, but I feel like whenever Ransom does that he is content and happy (well, of course, he is happy - his Marshi is right beside him 😍)

He was aware of how your skin prickled under his hand, goosebumps rising to your flesh while you tried in desperation to act like you weren’t being affected. His hand was steady on your thick thigh, fingers deftly squeezing your leg every few minutes to feel you shiver under him.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the road?” Trying to deflect from Ransom stroking your bare thigh with his hand, you turned the conversation to how he was driving, alluding to him being more distracted by you than he should be.

“I’m driving fine, passenger princess.” The corner of his mouth twitched, a smirk toying at his plump lips, his eyes likely burning beneath his dark sunglasses.

“Passenger princess?” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not a passenger princess.”

“Marshmallow,” Ransom slid his hand higher than he had before, heat from the apex between your thighs radiating against the side of his hand and wrist, “take it as a compliment. I like having a passenger princess.”

“I’m not a passenger princess,” you denied him, or tried to, and fixated your attention on the radio instead, “you never said where we’re going.”

“Iceland.” He spoke without skipping a beat, unabashedly naming the beautiful country that had once been on your wishlist of places to see.

“Shut up, we are not.” You turned to face him, eyes steadily growing wider the longer his smirk placated on his face. “Ransom we are not.”

“Aren’t we?”

“We can’t go to Iceland now! We have…work and responsibilities and-”

“-and a private jet we can fool around in.” He lowered his sunglasses and stared you down when he came to a red light, eyes simmering with intense lust, hunger and need.

“You’re serious? We’re going to Iceland? Now?” Your voice raised a pitch, your shock and awe debilitating.

“Yes now, there’s a bag packed in the trunk for you. We’re heading to the airport now.” Ransom squeezed and tapped your leg, the conversation coming to an end with a cocky ‘you’re welcome, baby.’

[marshiemonarch]

Kris's pencil is the wood blade, but what about their knife?

The knife is stored safely in their ender chest, therefore unaffected by the Darkworld

[marshmellowtea]

wild to me that some people are still trying to claim rome isn’t REALLY a fascist after like ep like for fuck’s sake even before the mattson deal he was fucking drooling over mencken are you kidding me

[leechjuice]

i was passed an open tag from @cruelflesh cause she knows i love these little games, and in honour of finishing up the first draft of my religious literary thriller, THE MAGNOLIA CLUB, i thought it a perfect time to share some with all of you.

⇢ my words are rust, ember, damp, breath & teeth

♰ " RUST " ♰ — THE MAGNOLIA CLUB, CHAPTER 21

Waylon idled below, framed inside the porthole window like an octopus swept through a current, dressed in his best whites, held together solely by a string of other people’s graciousness. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows but nothing saved them from the reddening soil—his fingertips were stained with it, his cuffs a keen shade of tetanus rust. He’d been in the garden since Mrs. Gaskill and her two middle-aged daughters finished setting out refreshments, long enough for the frankincense to burn clean out, well past when the hinge cover on the casket had been gently, quietly shut. She was out there now, a reflective floral entity on the beige lawn, pressing him to come inside. He did—only after driving the rest of a bruised belladonna tangle into a plastic garbage back and smoothing back the wilting hair from his lightless eyes.

♰ " EMBER " ♰ — THE MAGNOLIA CLUB, CHAPTER 9

“Easy,” warned Arthur, a cooling ember. “We’re not callin’ anyone.” Edith straightened from Midge’s side, taking a lengthy assessment of each of them where they stood; mismatched chess pieces on a muddy board. She tossed a sweeping hand towards the road, a dense wall of smoggy breath rising from her tense lips. “We’re goin’ on a ride. So’s she.” “Now?” Jeri intercut, her fear reeling her closer, trembling in the cold dark. “All the way out to that ol' highway? At this hour?" “Please,” Edith begged, “spell it out for all us morons.” The blonde took towards the parking lot and left Midge at Arthur's mercy, and he came quickly to her aid in a terribly familiar, jacket-donning way that made her fear for the imminent end, certain that the Lord would strip them each away from her before she was ever ready. “If you’re right, an' some fella's layin' out there on the road, havin' done this to her—then I wanna make sure the cunt’s good an’ dead.”

♰ " DAMP " ♰ — THE MAGNOLIA CLUB, CHAPTER 17

The incomparable black of Ruby's backwoods midnight made a joke of her; the tangles of bony, low-hanging willow and marshy soil didn’t help. She'd never have the time or awareness to duck if a branch swung at her; staggering the suffocating blindness, tramping like panicked hunting dogs through damp carpets of kudzu, all that came to Midge were spatters of static colour, dressed by her anxieties—Audrey, sallow and freckled, her corpse torn sloppily in two. Two dusky blue eyes pointed lazily at the sky, her painted nails locked into clawing fists at her throat, purple around the corners of her slack lips. Now beneath the hum of crickets, Gage was a wild thing in among the weeds, his eyes just two light-bouncing plates in the dark, black holes of electric lunacy. Now, he had a knife the size of a small pie server in his oily hands. Now he was grinning, skulking behind a nearby tree, stinking with adrenaline. Now, something was eating her. Now, something was tearing her apart. They’d let her go—that always kickstarted problems. The moment someone stepped out of Midge's sight, they were good as—

♰ " BREATH " ♰ — THE MAGNOLIA CLUB, CHAPTER 4

“Well, it ain’t about that damn veteran and you know that, ‘cause you’re smarter than me, and you’re smarter than them,” said Jonas, casting a finger in the same direction Midge’s gaze only just shrank from, “which means you know I love you whether I’m away or not. An' you know I care about what y'think, and how y'feel, and how folks around here see you. ‘Cause I get it—Midge,” pled Jonas, in the terrible, doting way she'd only ever suffered from others, “I try to get it, and if I don’t, I let you be. But they won’t even try.” It hurt more than usual to love her brother that night. To see even under hallway shadow the deepening bruises around his hazy eyes, sure to be yellow-rimmed by morning, his eggs and bacon set in doubles with duplicated plates and silverware. “That's why you didn’t come home?” fell Midge’s words like a dead bug on a sill, cut right from her breath. “You’re embarrassed of me?”

♰ " TEETH " ♰ — THE MAGNOLIA CLUB, CHAPTER 16

The darkness caught Midge's wrists and slid her through the split in the door, drawing her into a well of warped shadow which sluggishly took shape and meaning; a half-shredded bookshelf and pool of books, a molehill of plastic bags stuffed with sewing supplies and skeins kissed by velvet mold, tongues of outstretched Halloween decorations, a desaturated spectrum of sweaters and tarps, old milk crates, swaths of spider silk, dead termites—decay. Midge staggered through a sole walkable path, fenced by canyons of old worth, and the house devoured the whisper of her sneakers on its warped barnwood floor. What had narrowed the entry was the great, many-fingered hand of a tree, jammed against the backside of the door, its paint scraped into an illegible language by years of eager winter wind gushing through the swollen gash in the building's left side. Its roots burrowed deeply between the separating planks, coiling around the blackened teeth of an unused fireplace, smothered by sheddings of bark and a surmounting pile of rot-sweet crabapples.

i love you @cruelflesh so u have to do it now, and i'll leave an open tag for anybody who sees this and wants to join!

♰ your words are soil, shy, bleed, needle & spirit ♰

[montammil]

This is so dark so TW DEATH

But like can you write a lil snippet of Marshall dying? I really just want to see Lawrence react + I just love angst

,If not, no pressure!

As a lover of angst, I didn’t mind this! But huge TW, it does get fairly darker and way angstier than my other CCE content.

TW: Suicide, multiple deaths, (by suicide), lots of angst, denial, double suicide(?), overdose, parental whumper, again it gets DARK

Lawrence had gone through an already stressful day. He used to enjoy his job, but since Marshall came along, he started to despise his job, since it meant being away from him for more than a few hours at a time. Sometimes Lawrence brought him with him, but not only did Marshall not enjoy being out, but it did put him at risk for being noticed.

Luckily, Marshall stopped fighting back. Lawrence knew half of it was out of sadness, he wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t think all of it was. He did his fair share of research, he knew of Marshall’s shitty home life.

He really thought Marshall accepted his new life because he found comfort in it. That’s what Lawrence told himself, anyway.

Lawrence shrugged off his suit coat as soon as he got through the door, then noticed Marshall wasn’t there to greet him like he normally was. It wasn’t necessarily a cause for alarm, his first thought was his son must’ve been sleeping.

He hummed to himself as he made his way up the stairs, knocking on the door. “Hey, kiddo, I’m home. Can I come in?”

He was met with silence.

Anxiety pulled Lawrence’s hand towards the knob. “I’m coming in.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he turned it, to see a small lump on the bed. He sighed with relief and sat on the edge. “Hey, Marshie, I’m home. Have you been asleep all day?”

Marshall didn’t respond. He didn’t even move.

That was even more worrying. Lawrence gently nudged him. When Marshall didn’t reply, nor do anything, the true dread started to seep in. Lawrence shook his shoulder, but he still didn't react.

His hand shook as it flew to his pulse, digging his fingers into the side of his neck.

Nothing.

Lawrence threw the blanket off the boy, searching frantically for a pulse now, thinking he was mistaken. Marshall laid there, completely motionless. A strangled scream released from his throat when he heard a quiet rattle, to see a pill bottle with only a few pills left inside.

It was full this morning. Lawrence just bought that to help him sleep.

He shook his head to himself. He wasn’t thinking correctly, his hands shook violently now as he checked for a pulse again.

The one shred of logic came into his mind. He knew CPR. He didn’t hesitate as he took the boy’s body into his arms. He started pushing his chest and blowing air into his lungs, desperately trying to revive him.

It was hard to when his whole body was trembling, and his own sobs choked him.

Despite everything, Lawrence stayed hopelessly optimistic. Marshall couldn’t die. This was all a bad dream, maybe a cruel joke. Anything. Anything but what it really was.

Lawrence wailed as it was physically impossible for him to continue blowing air into Marshall’s lungs. His voice cracked, and an unfitting, eerie smile formed on his face. His shaking hand cupped Marshall’s face.

“He-hey, bud… I need you to wake up for me. Please. Just open your ey-eyes, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

Marshall’s eyes remained shut.

On instinct, Lawrence slapped him across the face. “WAKE UP! WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!”

His eyes stayed closed.

The room became dizzier as Lawrence cried again. “Oh god, Marshie, I-I didn’t mean to… I just need you to come back. I can’t lose you. You’re my baby, without you I can’t live. Do you really want me to die, too?”

Lawrence wasn’t shocked at the lack of response, but it still hurt. He laughed through his tears. Maybe if there was an afterlife, he’d see Marshall there.

He pulled the younger man in his lap, wrapping him in a tight embrace, kissing his head repeatedly. The tears fell and didn’t stop.

It took a while before his sobs were replaced by laughter. He rocked his son, his dead son, in his lap, humming a melody that was long forgotten.

“I’ll let you go if you wake up. Is that what you want? I’ll do it. Just wake up.”

“…”

“I didn’t think that’d work, anyway. You don’t want to leave me, right, Marshall? That’s why you need to wake up.” He sniffed. “I can’t do this alone. You know I can’t.”

He waited for an answer, but was given none.

Lawrence pulled back to look at Marshall’s face.

Marshall was gone.

One more blood-curdling scream was given. A rollercoaster of emotions controlled Lawrence, switching from grief, to denial, to terror.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This couldn’t happen.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

He looked around, almost blind with tears, to find the bottle of pills. He picked them up. Just as he suspected from earlier, they were as good as empty.

The actor threw the pill bottle to the wall, then placed Marshall back down on the bed as gently as humanly possible. He stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a knife out of the drawer.

Lawrence was on autopilot. He was quick to return to Marshall’s side, then laid in the bed next to him.

The actor reached over, to place the knife in his hand, resting his head on Marshall's chest. He sobbed.

He was never going to hear that heartbeat again.

Normally, he thought it was Marshall who took comfort in hearing the sound of his heartbeat. Turns out, it was always the other way around.

Lawrence readjusted to pull Marshall in his arms once more. He took a shuddering breath. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll be together again this way. You won’t- you won’t be lonely wherever you are… you’ll always have Dad to be there right with you…” He laughed again.

It was a genuine laugh this time. The afterlife with his child sounded just as good as the current life.

And hey, if there was no afterlife, then that’d be okay, too. At least he could die holding him. He only wished he could’ve actually gotten a final goodbye. But this would have to do.

He kissed his forehead one last time. “I love you so, so much, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

[the-fiction-witch]

Wooden Bath

Media game of thrones

Character Jojen reed (slight age up possibly)

Couple Jojen x Reader

Rating smut af!

Concept bath time

Smut (okay here we go) nudity/ swearing/ fingering/ BJ/ nipple play/ spanking/ full sex/ 'pet'/ 'master'/ 'good girl'/ overstimulation/ riding/ from behind/ jizz/ underwater (in bath) sex/ biting/ hair pulling/ Dom & sub/ I think that's everything.

I hurried my way along the wooden jetties, the floating pathways and wooden steps that were all so overgrown with moss and ivy you'd swear they were a part of the earth itself, they even moved and swayed with the water and wind of the marshy lands. I headed inside my little marsh house in the general keep of the greywater watch, it didn't really have a keep. The castle of grey water was built on crannog and so like the pathways it floated and shifted as required the house was a tall tower that blended into the trees. I shut up my little house and slipped my jackets and such off leaving me in only my thin green dress throwing my belt to the floor. I wrapped a cloth around my hand and pulled the cauldron from the fireplace, tipping the hot boiling water into the wooden tub as I was in need of a bath. I set it back over the flames and refilled it with water, throwing a marsh frog or two in for soup. I let the water cool throwing in my wash cloth and my soap letting it bubble a little before turning my attention to myself in the mirror slowly pulling my knotted hair out of its braids and twists as I stood in my thin rough green dress the one button all that prevented me from being naked as I wore nothing below it on these warmer days, my nipples even poking through the dress as they often did. I checked my water again and was about to slip off my dress when I heard a sound behind me.

"Hello pet" his dark voice chuckled making me jump turning to my door in shock

"Master reed-" I began seeing the young man, heir to house reed, Jojen. Dressed as usual in his houses colors with his matted fur over his shoulders 

"Humm don't act surprised pet. You knew I was coming" he smirked 

"I suppose I did," I blushed "forgive me I was about to have a bath"

"Were you? I got here just in time then" he smirked slipping his fur off and some of the more lordly parts of his clothes leaving him in his off green shirt and tight brown leather pants and boots he came close to me leaving me with no room to escape checking my water himself "go on then, don't want the water to get cold" 

"But your here-" I began

"Like it's anything I haven't seen before" he smirked fiddling with the little button on my dress making me gasp "excited to see me pet?" He cooed running his hand up to grasp my breast and rub my nipple with his thumb in a clockwise circle 

"Uhh jojen-" I gasped 

"Ummm I'll take that as a yes" he growled "go on pet. Have your bath." He demanded "or I'll have to give you… something else for being such a dirty girl" 

"Yes master reed" I nodded fixing my hair a little pulling it up into a ponytail 

"Don't you toy with me pet" he growled, grabbing the little button of my dress and giving it a firm jank, ripping it from the fabric leaving nothing to keep it together exposing my pale skin to him which he immediately stroked from my stomach up towards my breasts "so beautiful. Go on, before I changed my mind about letting you have a bath" he smirked moving to sit on my bed I giggled and slowly slipped off my dress leaving me naked, he looked over every inch of me with a dark wicked smile I did try and hide myself but he only smirked more "no point hiding pet. Nothing I haven't seen before. You forget I have already seen you and already seen what will happen tonight I'm just watching it live" he smirked "in your bath and we'll get you cleaned up"

"Yes master reed" I blushed climbing into the hot steaming water 

"Go on, clean yourself up"

"You don't want to help me master?"

"Not yet pet. Soon" he winked 

I giggled and rubbed the soap across my washcloth making sure I had plenty of bubbles, running them across my arms slowly and seductively, he merely smirked watching me as I scrubbed my body clean I did make sure to be slow and sensual for him especially when cleaning my breasts and my legs 

"Hummm dirty little thing aren't you pet" he growled moving over kneeling beside my wooden bath tub 

"Maybe you should help me be clean Jojen"

"Alright. But I get to do it" he smirked slipping his shirt off and giving my lips a soft but passionate kiss as his hand slipped into the water he stroked my thigh pushing it apart before moving his hand to meet my clit rubbing it softly before pushing his fingers deeper inside me 

"Uuughhhh! Jojen!" I squealed pulled back unable to stop my moans as his fingers moved hard and slow rubbing on my clit where he needed too

"Yeah you like that pet?"

"Uuuuuuuhhh!'

"Do you?"

"Yes master" I blushed leaning my head against the wooden tub my back often arching in the water from his fingers movements "uuuuuuuuuuughh! Uuuuuuuhhh!"

"Awww your so cute when your horny"

"Uughh jojen-"

"Does my dirty little pet love masters fingers inside her?" He cooed leaving kisses on my neck 

"Yes" I gasped 

"Hummm does she wish It was masters cock?"

"Uuuuuuuhhh yes! Please Jojen"

"Hummm my dirty little pet. You really did need a bath didn't you" he growled grabbing my breast "ummm such a dirty girl" he cooed "turn over. Now" he demanded

"Yes master" I blushed moving to my stomach keeping my head out of the water of course he slapped my ass hard "AHH! Jojen!"

"Maybe I wouldn't be so harsh of my pet wasn't so dirty" he growled spreading my ass before returning his fingers inside me far more mercilessly then before

"Uuuuuuuhhh uuughhhh Jojen please -"

"I don't know dirty little girls shouldn't get to cum" he smirked slapping my ass 

"Please," I whined 

"On one condition pet" he smirked 

"Yes Jojen?" I cooed he got to his feet stripped off his clothes leaving him naked climbing on my wooden bathtub with me sitting at the other end stroking his hard cock 

"Come and ride on master" he cooed 

I blushed but moved over and sat on his lap leaning my hands on his bare chest often stroking his prominent v "don't just touch pet. Inside"

"Inside where?" I smiled playing innocent

"I don't care. Your mouth. Your ass. Your pussy. So long as I'm inside you" he growled 

"Alright" I giggled moving to let him slip inside me "uuuuuuuuuuughh! Jojen!"

"Uhhh fuck! You dirty girl" he growled grabbing my ass hard groping me as he guided me to ride him "ummm you're such a dirty girl. The biggest bath in the world couldn't clean my dirty pet" he growled kissing my neck and shoulders 

"Uuuuuuuhhh uuuuuuuuuuughh!" I moaned unable to hold back how good he felt inside me 

"Yeah you like that?" He growled holding my hips to thrust as deep as he could

"Uhhh!"

"You like that?"

"Uuuuuuuhhh!" 

"Say how much you love it and I'll let my pet cum down masters cock"

"Uuuuuuuhhh Jojen please!"

"Say it. Say how much of a dirty girl you are. How bad you need me. How much you love your master"

"Uuughhhh! I love my master so so much"

"Humm cute pet. Ohhh yeah you dirty little thing" he growled his attention turning to my breasts as they had now gotten hard from our playing and from partly rubbing on his chest he took my breasts in his hands making sure to rub some soapy bubbles over them before his fingers mercilessly plaid with my nipples twisting them and rubbing them to cause even more pleasure which he worked into forcing me to ride and grind against him "humm I should have you chained up in the watch pet. You're such a cute plaything." He Cooes "but then I'd we'd run into trouble wouldn't we. I'd be fucking my pet every night, you'd end up with my seed inside you. And that would be a scandal wouldn't it pet? Heir to house reed knocking up some little marsh girl" he growled "I don't think anyone would blame me, after they saw what a dirty girl you are for me."

"But then some bigger lord boy might want me instead?" I giggled

"He might. But I'd start a war for that pussy pet."

"You would?"

"Happily" he smirked pulling me to kiss him his thrusts getting faster so I matched him as best I could even if his playing and thrusts left me a squealing mess "hummm you love that don't you?" He growled and I nodded "humm say it and I'll let you cum" he growled moving a hand to mercilessly rub my clit

"Uhhhhh uuuuuuuuuuughh Jojen please!"

"Say the magic words and you can cum"

"Uuuuuuuhhh uuuuuuuuuuughh! Uhhh master! Uhhh I love you!" I squealed as my orgasm hit making me slightly squirt my body shaking before I collapse against his chest gasping for breath and he moved his hands to the small of my back and my ass 

"Awww good girl pet." He Cooes slowly Letting me ride it out as he peppered me with kisses "good girl. I love you too" he Cooes 

"We should get out the waters getting cold" I giggled

"Ohh. No." He smirked "were not done yet pet" he smirked forcing us over so he knelt on the bottom of the tub and I was on my back my head against the tub he held my hips tightly putting my legs on the rim as he mercilessly thrusted pounding inside me with little regard for mt overstimulated screams "awww your so cute. You really thought you'd act so dirty and get off with just a few slaps and a little nipple play. Hummm you should know master better then that pet" he growled moving fast and hard leaving me to scream "ummm my dirty little thing. Maybe I should take you to grey water with me. Chain you up and have you at the end of the bed to suck my cock every morning, by my bath to ride me, on my balcony so I can look at the view an fuck that slutty ass. Uuuuuuuhhh! Come on pet. Or I swear I'll tie you to your bed and give you the sort of spanking a dirty little thing like you deserves"

"Uuuuuuuhhh Jojen please i-"

"I know you can pet. And I know your close already. Uuuuuuuhhh you know master can't cum without feeling his pet cum around him" 

"I already -"

"I know. But I want it again. And your going to do it. Or I will tie you up and have you choking on my cock until morning" 

"Uuuuuuuhhh Jojen please-" I screamed knowing I was close from being so overstimulated

"Uuuuuuuhhh yes! Yes! Uuuuuuuhhh fuck pet!" He moaned biting his lip and shutting his eyes as he focused so intensely "uuuuuuuuuuughh uuuuuuuuuuughh! Fuck you dirty girl!"

"Ahhhhhhh! Jojen!" I squealed feeling a second orgasm rush though me and as soon as I did he frozen up his jaw hanging low his head thrown back as he finished deep inside me 

"Uuuuuuuhhh… uuuuuuuhhh! Uughhh. Fuck. Fuck" he groans "ummmmm you dirty dirty girl" he Cooes kissing me before he pulled out making us both groan between our rappid gasps I giggled a little already feeling his seed slipping out due to my wetness and the surrounding water I just laid in the cooling water letting my mind clear from the mad rush of pleasure he learnt on the other side clearly doing similar "I love you so much y/n"

"I love you too Jojen"

"Fuck. You took it out of me pet" he complained climbing out the bath laying on my bed still dripping wet but I had a cloth already there for me anyway

"Yeah you did too" I giggled getting out and cuddling with him on my bed he happily cuddled me too letting me lay on how chest 

"I really do love you y/n. And I love getting to see you even just for sexy time"

"I love you too Jojen and I love our sexy time"

"well … my father isn't expecting me back till dark so, how about I throw my dirty girl on her bed and eat her pretty pussy a while?"

"No Jojen I need a rest"

"Fine" he pouts "...my dirty girly on her knees sucking master's cock?"

"Well… humm yes master" I cooed moving to my knees on the floor and taking him in my mouth being gentle at first but that didn't last long as he rolled and groaned against my bed 

"Uuuuuuuhhh! Uuuuuuuhhh! Uuuuughh!" He moans "uuuuuuuuuuughh yes! Yes! Uuuuuuuhhh you dirty girl" he groans grasping my sheets tightly"uuuuuuuuuuughh stop stop!"

"What's wrong?" I asked moving back

He gasped struggling for breath "uhhh you'll make me cum pet" 

"Isn't that what master wants?" I cooed innocently licking his shaft 

"Uuuuuuuhhh! You dirty little thing!" He growled so I took him back onto my mouth "uuuuuuuuuuughh don't you fucking dare!" He demanded but I still sucked and licked bobbing my head faster and faster giving him no escape from the endless pleasure of my- "uuuuuuuuuuughh! Uuuuughh! Uuuuuuuhhh fuuuuuck!" He groans his hips jerking erratically as he came in my mouth I giggled and swallowed even licking him clean leaving him a gasping mess "you dirty girl. Pets are meant to do as their master says" he warns Still trying to think straight after that 

"I gave master what he wanted" I giggled getting to my feet innocently stroking my naked body for him 

"Did you now?" He growled grabbing my hips forcing me down on my stomach slipping four fingers inside me 

"Uuuuuuuhhh! Jojen!" I screamed 

"You don't get to decide that pet" he growled in my ear pulling my hair hard and then slapping my ass "I'm gonna spank you till your too sore to sit down. Maybe then my dirty little pet with learn who's the pet and who's the master" he smirked fingering me mercilessly all while he slapped and spanked my ass hard leaving me with tears from both overstimulation and the pain of his slaps my ass sore and likely red from his spanking all while I was dripping down my legs from his fingers "hummm two orgasms and still dripping for master. Pretty little pussy knows what it wants too bad my let can't behave herself. If she did her pretty pussy would get everything it wants so badly. Ohhh yeah this little pussy wants it bad. I can feel you dripping. Clenching,  throbbing around my fingers pet. You must be so desperate for my cock. Even after everything I've already done to you" he smirked spanking me again "my pet must love masters cock so much" he growled 

"Uuuuuuuhhh yes! Jojen please i-"

"Quiet. You want everyone in westeros to know what a dirty girl you are?" He smirked "I'll let you rest on one condition"

"Yes?"

"Who owns this beautiful pussy?"

"My master"

"Good girl. Who can fuck it whenever they want?"

"My master"

"Who gets to use you like the dirty girl you are?"

"My master"

"Who do you obey. No matter what it is I ask?"

"My master"

"Good girl" he smirked moving his hand away letting me rest with one final slap across my ass and he carefully flipped me to my back "good girl pet" he Cooes kissing me gently "hummm look at that" he smirked straightening up a little I blushed hard seeing he was now fully hard again "my pet being so wet and dirty got master all hard. What are we going to do about that?' he Cooes

I blushed giggling a little and opening my legs wider 

"Humm that's my girl" he smirked climbing ontop of me.