#the possibility of jokes and gags about this are endless

[ouaw-facts-i-just-made-up]

Frost and Kremy are metamours

Don’t ask me who’s dating who to make that happen but the one thing that is certain is that they are *not* dating each other

This is a true fact.

With my personal home-baked lore it's probably Gideon. Kremy doesnt seem like a guy who can stand dating that many people. Frost and Gideon have canonically slept together. Gideon has two hands and for some reason he chose the gator and the cat.

Frost and Kremy don't have a rivalry about it but it's more like they are so far from each others type that it's comical. But they are otherwise good friends who happen to share Big Fire Man

[fatsans]

Sans and his Wife

His funky style- The first thing to go, when he had been domesticated, was that ‘nasty-ass hoodie’ - as you called it. Hey, it’s his signature look! But, when the wife goes through the trouble of knitting (crocheting - you corrected him 1000 times), a soft pale blue cardigan…well how can a skeleton argue?

His funny bone - Sans is clearly is a funny guy. He’s always got you giggling- no, howling with laughter. It could be a joke, a pun, a gag, a jape! The possibilities are endless. But, at some point in your marriage, maybe a few months in, it’s becoming more and more clear he’s deflecting. When you bring up something he isn’t keen on he just happens to say the funniest things. Oh it’s hilarious, Sans will- hey wait…what were you talking about…you can’t remember now…

His Secrets - There's a lot Sans doesn't talk about.

[dannyreviews]

Frasier (1993 and 2023)

The 1990s was probably the last great era for the American Sitcom and the majority of television viewers would probably pick "Seinfeld" as their favorite. As much as I love "Seinfeld" and its brand of famous gags, one liners and character quips, "Frasier" is in a class of its own above. For 11 seasons, Frasier maintained its Moliere/Alan Ayckbourn wit and farce without missing a beat. Nearly 20 years after the perfectly written series finale, "Frasier" has been rebooted and things have changed, some for the better and the rest for the worst. Here is the rundown about what made the original series a classic and the reboot (so far) a shadow of its former self.

TV Spinoffs are usually a hit or miss affair. The hits like "Laverne and Shirley" and "The Jeffersons" managed to remove themselves from their origin and create their own brand of humor. Others like "After MASH" and "Phyllis" were tedious affairs that forgot their roots and sailed into the sunset of mediocrity. And then you have "Frasier" which took the spinoff to brand new heights. Having already been an established supporting character in another massively successful series "Cheers", Frasier Crane was engrained in the collective consciousness of the prime time audience, so that was one notch in watching the pilot of the original "Frasier". The first thing was to reinvent Frasier as a radio psychiatrist which becomes the foundation for jokes about the human mind. But then you add supporting characters that are so multi-dimensional that they have to compete with the title character for the most laughs. That came in the form of David Hyde Pierce as Frasier's equally pompous psychiatrist brother Niles and John Mahoney as their blue collar, retired, disabled policeman father Martin. Watching the difference between tasting wine and singing Gilbert and Sullivan operettas to drinking beer and watching the ballgame on TV and you have a dynamic that is another foundation of excellent writing. At the same time, there's Peri Gilpin as Frasier's producer Roz who beds every man (single or married) in town and Jane Leeves as Daphne, Martin's in-house nurse and Niles' crush. When you have several running gags all synchronized in 11 amazing seasons that never jumped the shark, the possibilities are endless. Even recurring jokes like the rivalry between the Crane brothers, the elusive identity of Niles' wife Maris, or the random actions of Martin's dog Eddie, were add ons to an already colorful mosaic of wit and wisdom. Like the Sistine Chapel, or Bach's Goldberg Variations, Frasier is several fine tuned sequences that make up a Leviathan of a presentation. What can possibly go wrong?

The reboot of "Frasier" in hindsight should never have happened because in the series finale, the viewer wanted Frasier to have a happy ending and fine true love with his last girlfriend Charlotte. That hope goes out the window and instead what we get is another chapter in our titular character's hapless life when he becomes a lecturer in Psychiatry at Harvard. In the original pilot, we got to know each character's strengths and flaws in only 22 minutes. With the reboot, it takes 2 episodes just to establish each character's back story. Now that Martin is dead and Niles & Daphne are MIA, the majority of the new characters are generic, paint by numbers creations. Frasier's son Frederick (Jack Cutmore-Scott) is blue collar like his grandfather and the deja vu dynamic is not played up for laughs. You have a storyline written in about Frederick's roommate Eve (Jess Salguero) that gets too convoluted and ends up like a subplot in a cheesy soap opera. Most unforgivably, there's Niles and Daphne's son David (Anders Keith) who is supposed to be an amalgam of his parents, but instead of having headstrong principles and acerbic banter, he's just obnoxiously atrocious. This isn't the offspring of a fascinating couple, it's a clone of Screech from "Saved By The Bell". The only thing that somewhat works and has any relevance to the original series is Frasier's scenes with his new colleagues at Harvard which includes his old college friend Alan (Nicholas Lyndhurst) and department head Olivia (Toks Olagundoye). Alan is the new Niles in how he and Frasier exchange intellectual topics and if you can close your eyes, you'd think it was the Crane Brothers. Olivia is tolerable only when she's in the same room as Alan. Otherwise, her scenes with Frasier border on cringeworthy, which goes against the original formula of all the characters mingling with indefinite punchlines. Finally, Kelsey Grammer is at the helm of a rocky boat trying to steer it through choppy waves. He hasn't lost any of his charm but he can only do so much with what's written in the script.

Only three episodes of the reboot have aired as of now (10/22/2023), and the show has a lot to live up to its source material. Roz and Frasier's ex wife Lilith are supposed to make appearances in future episodes. What will they bring to the table and will it rival the classic episodes? I'm not holding my breath, but do hope that the show improves itself.

Original: 10/10

Reboot: 6/10

[sleepingdeath-light]

loner male wolf s/o hcs ; barnaby b beagle

requested by ; anonymous (08/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; barnaby b beagle

outline ; “Barnaby x wolf! Male! reader who is a lone wolf kinda person but is very kind and caring despite his loner attitude. He also loves barnaby's jokes”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

as far as the rest of the neighbourhood was concerned, you were something of an anomaly — certainly you were appreciated and they never avoided you when you were out and about, but you were much more introverted than everyone else (and your appearance was much sharper and more intimidating than, say, barnaby) and nobody really knew how to approach such a thing

you were lovely to be around, of course, being as kind as you were — always offering a hand when sally was transporting heavy props, helping patch eddie up whenever he fell, and so on — but your ‘loner’ attitude was still pretty enigmatic to your neighbours

except for barnaby who, naturally, went above and beyond to befriend the newest canine in town — who took every growl and accidental flash of your (much sharper) canines as an invitation to make you laugh, and almost always succeeding

every dad joke, pun, prank, knock knock set up and running gag had you snickering and chuckling and howling with laughter — and he never gave in until you were left clutching your sides with tears in your eyes from just how tickled you’d been by his attempts

your enthusiasm only encourages him to keep on going — to get more elaborate and more stupid, to exaggerate and dramatise, to lose himself to foolishness and folly, to be as playful as possible and everyone loves it

and that humour, that laughter and that fun, becomes the basis for your relationship and the olive branch that allows everyone to get even closer to you whilst respecting your preferences

it’s a positive situation all around really: you get a boyfriend who’s always able to make you laugh, barnaby gets to bond with a fellow canine who thinks he’s the funniest person on the planet, and the neighbours find something to bond with you over

new friends, a new boyfriend, and an endless supply of laughter and amusement — your heart is full, your sides are straining, your cheeks are aching and you wouldn’t have it any other way

[shinynewboots]

Staring at the Sun / Adam x Lute Chapter 12

Summary: After the battle, Lute attempts to flee with Adam. They find themselves unable to return to Heaven and must adjust to life in Hell.

AN: Hi all!! Last setting up chapter and then we are moving straight into the action! Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, smut eventually, Adam-typical misogyny, alcohol use, slight sexual themes, religious imagery, swearing

I also have a poll running on my account about how to structure the POVs going forward!! Please vote here

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

Pain. 

Adam couldn’t remember ever feeling this much pain in his life, both human and eternal. It felt as though every molecule, every atom was pulling itself apart just to collide with another and repeat the same process. 

He had seen Hell and lived among its people but it was in this endless eternity he truly knew what Hell and its damnation felt like. 

Fire burned his body (or around his body, or in his body. It was hard to tell) and he found it hard to tell where the the fire started and his essence began. 

He thought he heard screaming. Or was he screaming? 

He couldn’t see anything around him. Or rather, he couldn’t see anything at all. Every single one of his senses felt dull. Everything that did not sense pain became useless to him. 

He didn’t know how long he burned. 

Days? Months? Years? Had his burning transcended eternity?

When he stopped burning with fire, he burned in a different way. The same way that ice begins to burn you on a frigid day, nipping at your hands and toes causing them to tingle and ache until finally they feel nothing at all. 

And maybe he preferred it that way: the nothing at all. 

When the nothing at all became something (in the form of grains of sand that tickled at his toes and fingers) he began to move slowly, like a fresh corpse awakened from the dead. His eyes felt crusted over, as though he had emerged from a long nap. He wiped at them and opened them slowly, the muted blue light still too bright for him. 

When his eyes adjusted, he took in his surroundings. 

Sand. 

He was surrounded by Sand and blue sky on all sides, an expanse that seemed to travel to the ends of eternity. There was no wind, no animals, nothing except for a gaping hole that separated this plane of existence from the next (a purple-pink sky that seemed to meld with the muted blue in an ugly fashion, as if the two skies were fighting for dominance). 

Adam looked at his hands, shocked to find them intact and not burnt and scarred as he feared they might be. He was also naked, as he had been in the Garden, and yet he felt no shame. For it was only He and the Sand. 

He felt his back, needing to touch his wings, his precious source of salvation from Heaven. And he felt them. But. But they were wrong. Instead of the lush, golden wings he found as a source of pride and status, he felt two shrivled, atrophied appendages, He tried to move them, to flap them, to do something and yet they hung from his back like limp badges of shame. He grabbed one with his hand to assess the damage and found them to no longer shine their golden sheen, but instead hold a withered, gray dullness. 

He dropped the wing as though it had burned him and felt his mouth fill with saliva, the promise of vomit soon to follow. His eyes burned and his salivary glands cried until finally the bile forced itself through his mouth. He began gagging, choking as the vomit exited his mouth and nose like a cruel joke from a spiteful devil. 

“Ew,” A voice said behind him. Adam’s eyes widened and he turned to see Lucifer standing behind him, his expression full of disgust as he held a handkerchief over his mouth to ward off the smell of vomit. 

Lucifer looked between Adam and the pile of bile at his feet before handing the handkerchief Adam’s way, the cloth pinched between two fingers and held out as far away from his body as possible. Adam eyed the cloth warily, his first instinct being to deny it and argue with Lucifer for the sake of being stubborn. But the acid that filled his senses won out quickly and Adam snatched the fabric from Lucifer and wiped his face. 

Lucifer looked at Adam curiously, trying to find some semblance of the man in which he held such an age-old rivalry. Or even the ghost of the man who had embodied the innocence of humanity; who had enthusiastically looked upon Lucifer’s creations with joy and reverence called them by name.

Instead, Lucifer found no one he recognized. Adam’s eyes were no longer golden but the warm brown of the earth that they had been during the beginning of creation. Yet, those eyes no longer held joy and promise but instead held the look of a caged and broken animal. His wings were pathetic things that hung limply at his back. And, well, he was naked. 

Lucifer was taken back to his own cast and even he knew his soul and being had not been as damaged or bruised as Adam stood before him. Whether it be due to Adam’s human origin or loss of will, he didn’t know. 

“I, uh, here,” Lucifer said awkwardly, snapping his fingers and causing a simple, cream tunic to appear upon Adam’s body. Adam looked down and pulled at the fabric with his fingers, running it back and forth in his hands. 

“What do you want, Lucifer?” He asked. His tone was without bite or malice or hubris. It was tired, weary. 

“Listen, I know how hard it is to be cast out-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Lucifer paused, searching for any signs of something in Adam’s face. “Who was it? Michael?”

Adam flinched.  Lucifer nodded and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Adam. I truly am.”

Adam looked up and glared at the archangel. “And I’m sure this doesn’t give you some sick satisfaction, hm?”

“I don’t wish this on anyone. Not even you, Adam.” Lucifer said, gripping Adam’s shoulder. He was immediately transported into the ghost of a memory of the pair of them in the garden, Adam’s face shining up with hope and devotion as he spoke to Lucifer in great detail. Lucifer: untainted, without sin, unbound to the kingdom of Hell. 

“What is this, exactly?” Adam asked, gesturing around to the wide expanse of sand. “My punishment?”

“More or less.” Lucifer shrugged, taking a seat on the ground and gesturing for Adam to join him by patting on the ground. Adam did so without fuss and flopped to the ground, his wings making a sickening crunch as they brushed across the sand. “We’re in Purgatory right now. Or Limbo. Or whatever you want to call it.” 

“Not much here but sand.”

Lucifer chuckled without humor. “No, but great opportunities for real estate investment for sure. That up there,” He said, pointing at the odd hole in the sky where the two planes seemed to meld. “That’s Sloth. And then Envy, and so forth.”

“Why does it look all fucked up?”

“Well, you blew a hole into it.”

“Well I didn’t fucking mean to,” Adam replied, crossing his arms like a defensive child after being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“No, you wouldn’t have been able to on your own. Only an archangel could harness enough power to cast someone out and force them through the rings of Hell. Michael would have had to have done so intentionally.”

“Like he did to you,” Adam stated, his warm brown eyes meeting Lucifer’s. Lucifer nodded, a sad smile upon his features. 

“You know the difference between Fallen and Casting?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I might not understand all the nuisances and archangel shit, but I was right there in that Garden alongside you. He kept saying I was Fallen though, so I guess he thought I was too stupid to understand what I really was.” 

“Michael always liked to think he was the smartest person in the room.” Lucifer offered, looking out across the sea of sand. “So you know about the Trials?”

Adam gave Lucifer a strange look. “What are you talking about?”

“The Trials of Hell?”

“Sounds dumb as fuck.” Adam said, digging his toes into the surprisingly cool sand. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was on a beach. Or on the banks of the river in the Garden. Anywhere but here. 

Oh, how their tentative peace was waning. 

“It’s not dumb,” Lucifer argued. “You see how Sloth and Limbo are melding into one another in the sky? That’s happening all over Hell with each ring trying to implode into the other because you literally blew threw the stability of the rings.”

“And that means?”

“It means if you don’t fix it, all of Hell will engulf itself into some weird, chaos plane. And I don’t think it will stop there. It will just keep feeding and feeding until it bleeds into Earth and eventually Heaven.”

“What do you mean “I have to fucking fix it”?” Adam asked angrily, his gaze hard as he glanced over at Lucifer. “Isn’t that your job, King of Hell?”

“I can’t fix it. It wasn’t my life force that broke it in the first place. Adam, it was your sin and anguish and hate and whatever else you had going on inside that twisted head of yours that mixed with Michael’s powers and broke through the rings in the first place. You’re the only one who can fix it. It won’t respond to me or anyone else.”

“And how do you expect me to do that, not like I’ve got my power, my weapons, or even my fucking wings, Lucifer,” Adam said, gesturing to the appendages on his back. 

“Well, that’s where the trials come in. Hell is a being in itself. She likes to play games and feed upon your negativity. Each ring you go through, you’ll be presented with a task created by Hell and the leaders of the Rings. Complete the Trial, you close and stabilize a ring.”

“Like a fucking video game?”

“Well, uh, yeah actually that’s a really good comparison,” Lucifer replied, shaking his head. “Did Michael say anything else? Anything about why he would do this?”

Adam shook his head. “Nothing more than just telling me I had ‘indulged in sin’ and am ‘following a path’.”

“A path?” Lucifer frowned. 

“I don’t fucking know, Luci, you know he’s always been cryptic.” 

“He knew this would destabilize Hell. It just felt like a drastic move on his part, to put all of Hell and Heaven at risk.” Lucifer said, thinking out loud. There was a piece of Lucifer that didn’t want to go back to Pride. He knew that he would have to deal with the aftermath of the damages and the outrage of the Sinners. He missed Lilith. 

“He’s your brother, not mine.” Adam shrugged, staring at the hole in the sky that moved and swayed like waves in the ocean. 

“Were you able to get Lute out in time?” Adam asked quietly.

Lucifer nodded. “She’s safe with Charlie at the hotel.”

Adam nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. 

The pair sat in silence for a moment more before Lucifer sighed and snapped his fingers, causing an hour glass to appear in his hands. It was small and  a replica of the same one that sat in the council chambers. He handed it to Adam, adding a necklace chain on it for good measure. 

“Here, this is to keep track of how long you have.” He said, placing the hourglass necklace in Adam’s hands. The sand trickled slowly, tauntingly. Adam nodded and placed the chain around his neck. 

“And if I don’t complete the Trials in time?”

“Then you’ve doomed us all, Adam.”

Adam could feel a coldness creeping into his heart, burrowing itself under his skin. He thought of Lute. He thought of her golden eyes, shining at him as though he were the only thing of worth in the world. Of her silver hair, the ends longer than he could ever remember seeing them in Heaven. He the thought of the way her body nestled into his own when they slept, and the way he would cling to her in the night as though she were a lifeboat to his sanity. 

He would not fail her. 

“No fucking pressure or anything,” Adam scoffed, pulling himself to his feet. He offered a hand down to Lucifer, who took it and stood. He wiped off his pants and looked up at Adam, who’s face was unreadable. 

“Are you ready?” Lucifer asked.

 Adam snorted. “Not as though I have another choice.”

Lucifer could feel a sharp reply on his tongue but he instead chose to think of Charlie and her goodness. He took in the image of the broken man in front of him and sighed. Adam was the only one capable of saving Hell at this point, of saving Charlie, of saving Lilith (whereever she may be). 

Lucifer snapped his fingers and a portal leading to Sloth appeared in front of them. He turned to Adam. 

“Good Luck.” He said, holding his hand out to Adam. Adam gripped his hand tightly in a firm handshake and sighed. He dropped Lucifer’s hand and walked through the portal leaving Lucifer alone in Limbo.

Adam did not know what he expected upon entering Sloth, but a lush, purple forest was not it. He could what the sounds of animals and birds chittering around him. He could feel the cool earth beneath his feet. 

There was no obvious danger. No immedaite threat. He found himself confused as he took in the sight of the lush forest and chose to do the only thing he could think to do: he kept moving. He followed a makeshift path through the trees, taking in the various shades of purple.

A twig snapped. 

He stopped in his footsteps. 

A high-pitched giggle rang out behind him.

This was it. This was the monster he had been waiting for. 

Instead of turning to fight, he began to run. He was unarmed and weak, pathetic. A human once more. He was no match for the monster he was meant to face. He could feel the twigs and sand stick into the soles of his feet as he ran, creating numerous cuts and splinters as he ran. He wings lay limply behind him, catching wind as he ran.

The giggling grew closer. He began to run faster. 

The sound seemed to fill the forest and he knew the monster was gaining upon him.

He was running, escaping, he was-

Falling. 

His face made contact with the earth and he realized his foot was caught in an unseen root (he knew there wasn’t a root there. There were no roots or obstacles in this path. He would have seen it. He would have noticed).

“Adam! I’ve been waiting for you.” A familiar voice said behind him. Impossible. He hadn’t heard that voice in years. 

He turned quickly, his eyes growing wide as he found himself looking up at a ghost. Her brown hair was strewn around her face, wild as she had always preferred. Her dark brown eyes held mirth and mischief, as they always had. Her bronze skin seemed to glow under the lavender rays of light. She held out a small hand his way. An offering of help. 

“Eve.”

[noisycowboyglitter]

Celebrate Diversity with Ah Men Christmas Funny Merchandise

Ah Men Christmas is a humorous take on the traditional Christmas celebration, infusing the sacred with the silly. It's a lighthearted approach to the holiday season, filled with laughter, irreverence, and good cheer. This festive concept can be expressed in a variety of ways, from decorating with kitschy nativity scenes and punny ornaments to hosting a "Hallelujah Happy Hour."

Buy now:19.95$

The beauty of Ah Men Christmas lies in its ability to bring people together for a good laugh. Whether it's sharing funny Christmas memes, watching comedic holiday movies, or simply cracking jokes about the season's traditions, this lighthearted approach can create a memorable and enjoyable experience.

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From ugly Christmas sweaters adorned with biblical puns to office parties featuring a "white elephant" gift exchange of religious-themed gags, Ah Men Christmas offers endless possibilities for fun. It's a chance to embrace the absurdity of the holiday season and find joy in the unexpected. So, gather your friends and family, raise a glass of eggnog, and let the Ah Men Christmas festivities begin!

This term encapsulates a growing movement that seeks to reconcile LGBTQ+ identity with Christian faith. It represents a celebration of diversity, inclusivity, and love within the context of religious belief. This intersectional identity challenges traditional norms and fosters a sense of community among individuals who often feel marginalized or misunderstood.

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The combination of LGBTQ+ Pride and Christmas symbols reflects a desire to create a more welcoming and affirming holiday experience for all. It's a statement of resistance against homophobia and transphobia, while simultaneously embracing the core values of compassion, forgiveness, and acceptance often associated with Christianity. This movement is about reclaiming religious spaces as places of belonging for LGBTQ+ individuals and fostering a deeper understanding of faith and identity.

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[featherdownmoor]

so the story is that i liked a guy in my class and was talking to him and getting to know him. we liked some of the same things and it was fun to joke around bc we had kinda similar humour (later on i realized compatibility and bitchery are mutually exclusive but anyways). but the songs he listened to are the songs i listened to when i was 15 which i still think are good, and im hoping this goes through in the least condescending way possible, but i feel like my current music taste was basically a lot better than his lmaoaoaoao

but anyway since i liked the guy i tried to impress him by exchanging spotifys and we followed each other and he was going through my playlists. i have one with a substantial amount of followers and he was super impressed. obviously i LOVED that lmao

but that aside before exchanging spotifys he was like ohhh the night we met by lord huron is bangerrr and i was like omg yes but inwardly i was thinking to myself how basic that is. and its really not the song choice that made me think that, but the way he said it as if it was groundbreaking and rare or a real "deep cut" or something

so i was like let me just one-up him and simultaneously impress him by sending him one of my favourite songs. i do feel like its actually a deep cut and its so fucking good i do genuinely want to get married to this song but its called love song by softcult

and he vaguely seemed to like the song at the time, but later on he must have really liked it because now its in his playlist. lmao

fast forward a while later and i find that a ton of my songs are getting fuckig YOINKED? from my playlists? into his?

the same artists, the same songs, and its very specific too like rogue wave, bloc party, band of horses like this guy was listening to the 1975 and lord huron before he found my spotify. and the true gag is that most of the YOINKING happened after he started ignoring me and giving me glares in public because my ex friend was talking shit about me all over the place and he probably found out i had a crush on him

but funnily enough, my memory lingers on in his playlists because he was not about to be caught dead with me but he thought my music taste was so fire that he might as well just jack my whole shit

thats not even the first time someone tried to copy my playlists but at least that time was with a younger friend of mine and i could excuse that. but this guy fully ignores me in school now but when he goes home, it's my recommendations playing in his earbuds? is it a flex? or is it endless torment? i just want my love song back because it was MY love song.

moral of the story: never make a couples spotify playlist and keep the number of songs you share with them to a minimum, especially if you ALREADY had a bond with the song before you met them. its just gonna mar your relationship with the song. doesnt matter unless u can guarantee ull be with them forever (u cant)

[giftsforus]

Beard For Your Pleasure Funny Christmas Ugly Sweater Party

The holiday season is upon us, and what better way to celebrate than with a Beard For Your Pleasure Funny Christmas Ugly Sweater Party! This unique and hilarious theme is the perfect excuse for men and women alike to showcase their sense of humor and spread some festive cheer. Whether you're attending as a guest or hosting the event, this party idea is guaranteed to be a hit and a gift for everyone involved. The main attraction of the party is, of course, the incredibly creative and amusing ugly sweaters. The beauty of these sweaters is that they come in various designs, each with its own comical twist. For instance, you can find sweaters that depict Santa Claus with an outrageous beard that extends down to the waist or ones with a reindeer wearing a pair of oversized glasses. The possibilities are endless! These sweaters are not only amusing to look at but also serve as excellent conversation starters among guests who can reminisce about their favorite childhood memories or come up with imaginative backstories for the characters on their sweaters. Furthermore, the party can incorporate a friendly competition element by holding a "Best Sweater" contest. Guests can cast their votes for the funniest, most creative, or most outrageous sweater, adding an exciting element to the event. To encourage participation, you can offer prizes such as small gag gifts, personalized ornaments, or even a mini trophy. Not only will this add a touch of friendly rivalry, but it will also inspire guests to go all-out in their sweater choices, making the event even more entertaining. To enhance the overall experience, you can also set up a photo booth area with props related to the ugly sweater theme. Guests can take memorable pictures with different props like fake beards, oversized glasses, or festive hats. This not only serves as a delightful souvenir but also generates laughter and entertainment throughout the night. To make the memories last even longer, you can create a social media hashtag specifically for the party, allowing guests to share their photos and experiences online. In terms of gifts, the Beard For Your Pleasure Funny Christmas Ugly Sweater Party is a fantastic opportunity for everyone to showcase their sense of humor through their presents. Attendees can bring small, funny gifts such as quirky ornaments, amusing coffee mugs, or even personalized items with festive slogans or jokes. These gifts will surely bring laughter and joy to the recipient and add an extra layer of enjoyment to the event. All in all, the Beard For Your Pleasure Funny Christmas Ugly Sweater Party is an inclusive and humorous way to celebrate the holiday season. From the creative ugly sweaters to the memorable photos and amusing gifts, this party is a gift for everyone involved. So, gather your friends and family, put on your funniest ugly sweater, and get ready for an evening of laughter, merriment, and unforgettable memories.

Get it here : Beard For Your Pleasure Funny Christmas Ugly Sweater Party

Home Page : tshirtslowprice.com

[enterprisewired]

How to Use Humour to Beat Zoom Fatigue?

From the pandemic year, Zoom meetings have become a daily ritual. Almost every working-class person might have experienced the all-too-familiar sensation known as “Zoom Fatigue.” It’s that overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that sets in after spending hours glued to our screens, enduring seemingly endless streams of virtual meetings, and trying to maintain that continuous camera-ready appearance. But what if you get a delightful and remarkably effective way to fight this Zoom-induced weariness? Enter the world of “Zhumor” (Zoom Humor).

What if you finish a boring meeting and you have another one but you are excited about that? Because it is going to be fun and make you laugh. Yes, it’s possible! Humor can make your virtual meetings better. It can make you feel more energetic, help you connect better with your co-workers, and make your meetings feel less like work and more like a fun get-together with friends.

You must be wondering how you can put your funny side up and make online meetings better. Don’t worry, we will explain it. In the next part of this article, we will talk about different ways that you can use humor in your online meetings, like starting with funny ice breaks and adding humor to your presentations. 

So, if you want to say goodbye to Zoom fatigue and enjoy your online meetings, keep reading this article further.

1. Understanding Zoom Fatigue

Before we get into the laughter journey, let’s quickly recap what this fatigue is about, and why it is so important to tackle it.

Constant virtual meetings can drain your mental and physical energy. Most of the people might have experienced this after extended hours of those sessions. It’s like the feeling of being tired without moving physically.

2. Why Does This Fatigue Happen?

Eye Strain and Fatigue: When you spend a long time looking at screens, like during online classes or working on a computer, it can make your eyes tired and might even hurt a little.

Feeling Stressed on Camera: If you have to be on camera for a long time during video meetings, it can make you feel stressed and worried about how you look.

Too Much Multitasking: Trying to do many things at once while in virtual meetings, like answering messages or checking emails, can make your brain feel really tired.

Meeting After Meeting: Having one online meeting right after another without any breaks in between can make you feel really tired and stressed out.

Not Moving Around: When you sit in one place for a long time during online meetings, it can make your body feel uncomfortable. You might get stiff or achy.

Now that we know why Zoom Fatigue takes place let’s look at how comedy could heal it.

3. Power of Humor

As we all know laughter can bring liveliness back no matter how much tired you feel at certain times. It’s a powerful tool for revealing stress and boosting energy in our bodies. When you laugh, your brain releases feel-good chemicals called endorphins, which can help combat the mental and physical fatigue associated with Zoom meetings.

Humor brings people together. Using puns can also help build stronger connections with your colleagues or fellow meeting participants. Sharing a laugh can create a sense of camaraderie and make virtual interactions more enjoyable.

4. Using Humor in Zoom Meetings

 Icebreaker Jokes: Start your meetings with a light-hearted icebreaker joke or question. It sets a positive tone and gets everyone in the right mind-set.

Visual Gags: Consider using virtual backgrounds, funny hats, or props that tie into your discussion. They can add an element of surprise and amusement to your meetings.

 Share Funny Anecdote: Share brief, relevant anecdotes or stories that have a humorous twist. Personal experiences can make your meetings more engaging.

Emoji Reactions: Use emojis in the chat to react to what’s happening during the meeting. A well-timed “laughing face” emoji can lighten the mood.

 Meme Moments: Share memes or funny images related to the meeting topic. Just make sure they’re appropriate for the professional setting.

5. Tips for Effective Humor

While fun can be a fantastic addition to your Zoom meetings, it’s essential to use it appropriately and considerately:

Know Your Audience: Be mindful of your colleagues’ sensibilities and preferences. What’s funny to one person may not be funny to another.

Avoid Offensive Humor: Steer clear of jokes or puns that could be considered offensive, controversial, or discriminatory.

Don’t Overdo It: Use humor strategically but don’t turn every meeting into a comedy show. Balance is key.

Keep It Professional: Maintain your professionalism, especially at business. The idea is to reduce Zoom Fatigue, not to generate distractions.

6. Benefits Beyond Zoom Fatigue

Using humor in virtual meetings doesn’t just combat Zoom Fatigue; it offers additional advantages:

Enhanced Creativity: A relaxed, happy, and friendly atmosphere can foster creativity and innovation.

Stress Reduction: Laughter reduces stress, making your work environment more pleasant.

Improved Communication: Humor can break down communication barriers and encourage more open discussions.

Conclusion

Zoom Fatigue is a common issue in today’s digital world. But it’s not an ultimate problem. By using laughter as a tool in virtual meetings, you can bring some fun into boring lengthy meetings. It’s a powerful tool so it’s highly advisable that you should use it wisely, without making anyone feel bad about it.

With a little laughter, you can turn those exhausting Zoom meetings into something you look forward to each day. So, go ahead, bring your funny side up, and let’s beat Zoom Fatigue together, one laugh at a time!

[yandere-sins]

Stalker’s Tango

[Original Song]

You fall victim to one of Albedo’s potions. Turns out there was more to it than just a ‘failed experiment’. (Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Yandere, Dub-Con, Lemon, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Getting walked in on, Drugging/Aphrodisiac, Painful Sex, Loosing your virginity, Delusional Behavior, Feeling Sick

I know, I know, I know This situation's strange It takes a little getting A little getting used to

-  Your POV -

Coughing, the glass slipped from your hand as you gripped your throat frantically. Everywhere, from the tip of your tongue to your stomach, felt like it was burning. You weren’t even aware if the potion had traveled that far yet, but you felt like throwing it up again nonetheless. Even though you had been suspicious of the striking pink color, you had no reason to mistrust Albedo when he gave it to you, claiming it was an improved stamina potion. With the adventurous life you lived, you had never denied your friend’s tremendous help throughout the years, and it was no different now.

“There could be…” you choked out, trying to make a joke out of your visible uncomfortableness, swaying on your feet as the feeling kept spreading through you. “... improvement in taste.”

Your efforts to keep it inside of you were in vain as you staggered hastily over to the trash can, buckling over it. However, aside from spit, nothing left your mouth, no matter how harshly your stomach contracted, leaving you ready to vomit the content out any second. It would be a shame over the good meal you had at Good Hunter previously to that, but by now, you just wanted to get rid of the potion you drank.

“I see…” Albedo mumbled, kneeling down next to you. His hand rubbed your back as you hung over the can miserably, comforting you as your body fought. “I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

Huffing, you wished on your lucky star that he was right as sweat collected on your forehead, the world around you starting to spin. Part of you still wanted to believe that this really was an improved stamina potion, but in the state you were in, you could hardly even think about walking, let alone adventuring. “Are you sure it helps?” you gasped in between coughs and gags, looking up at him, questioning. “What’s in it? I think I need an antidote…”

Albedo stared at you unblinking before briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head. “There’s no such thing,” he revealed, and you sighed, slumping a bit more over the can. Of course, there was always a possibility for an experiment to go wrong. But frankly, you didn’t think this went untested before he put it into your hands.

Luckily—and you thanked the archons for it!—Albedo’s potion kept what he promised, the extreme reactions to it slowly fading out. The only thing that remained was the sweat and heatwaves leaving you miserable. Still, you were glad for every improvement of your condition. “Archons…” you mumbled, fumbling with your shirt’s collar. Had it always been this tight? You wondered as you unbuttoned the top of it and loosened your cravat. Even though you were willingly disheveling your otherwise immaculate and proper adventurer uniform, the warmth you felt everywhere was only growing inside of you, making you wonder if you were burning up with a fever. It was slowly, but surely, getting unbearable.

“How are you feeling?” Albedo asked, his hand stopping on the small of your back. Looking up at him, you could see your disheveled form in the reflection of his eyes as he was watching you closely. His eyes were endless, the blue as pretty and clear as sunlit ice and river water. If it wasn’t for the awkward situation you found yourself in, you could have stared into them for a long time, getting lost in the gentleness of the teal. But instead, you gripped the collar you just opened, closing it tightly again, embarrassed of your appearance despite knowing Albedo for so long.

“It’s warm—no, hot. Can we… Can we open a window?” Your pleading was almost desperate as you looked away from him. There was something about him that was simply mesmerizing, making you wonder about many things you never seemed to have noticed before. Would his hair feel soft if you let it slide between your fingers? What was his skin like? As warm as a body? As cold as his indifferent expression most of the time? If he held you in his arms, would it be awkward and tense, or would the rising of his chest, as he took even breaths, calm you? Which one would it be?

“I reckon it feels strange right now, but trust me--” You really wanted to trust him. You really did.

But what was in that potion he gave you?

“You’ll get used to it in a bit.”

Love me-love me-love me More than you possibly can It's not that complicated No matter what they say You'll never meet another me

One swift swipe of his arm and the whole laboratory rumbled with the sounds of glass shattering on the ground, papers flying everywhere. What was wrong with you? You questioned yourself as you bent over the - now empty - table, grabbing the hem of your skirt to lift it over your ass. “Please!” you whined, unable to hold back anymore. Panties soaked with your own juices, you cried out helplessly for your friend to help.

“I can’t--” you gasped, feeling his weight above you, pushing you down on the wood. Immediately, the heat shifted to where you two were in contact, making you sensitive to every layer of clothes or accessory pressing into your body. “I can’t endure it any longer! Make it stop, I beg of you! Albedo!”

At the call of his name, the alchemist let out a deep, satisfied sigh, fingers in leather drawing the heat to your asscheeks as they moved downwards. A loud, vulgar groan escaped you as they slipped over your cunt, still covered by the thin piece of soaked fabric, probing it studiously. While it was the tiniest amount of relief to feel his touch, Albedo took a slow, cautious approach to the matter that was driving you crazy.

Whining desperately, you pushed back into his hand, feeling his fingers carve out your slit just one more inch. Still, nowhere near enough to satisfy you. “More…” you demanded feebly, pushing yourself against him again and again. Why wasn’t he doing more? Why wasn’t he using his fingers, or his cock, anything to fuck you?! Make this damn heat stop like he said he would! Albedo promised it would go away, so why wasn’t he doing anything for it?!

“Don’t rush it,” was all he had to say to it, again probing against your entrance. However, this time you could feel the tip of his pointer entering you, the fabric of your underwear stretch. It was still far from enough, but you moaned loudly into the wooden surface, rocking back and forth on your tippy-toes. If he wasn’t going to fuck you, you’d do it yourself!

Suddenly, you were faced with the feeling of a hand around your throat, pulling you back as you felt Albedo’s hot breath against your ear, whispering words to you that made you shudder. “I’ve wanted to try this potion on you for a long time, but I was hesitant. I was afraid you would refuse me even after drinking it.”

What did he mean? Refuse him? Refuse when he was the only relief to your misery that you could think about at that moment?

“I would never-” you gurgled, his hold pulling you back, arching your body until only your head and ass stuck upwards. Licking your lips this was the only way you could think about to wet them, words incredibly difficult to slip off your mouth. “-never refuse you, Albedo. I need you! Now! … Please!”

Even without seeing the smile curling his lips, you felt it against your hot, bothered ear, followed by a soft chuckle that allowed you to melt into his hold and made you drip even more. Albedo had you securely between his hands and body. If he only was going to put his fingers to good use, you’d be all his.

“You’ve always been such a good girl,” he whispered into your ear before finally, with a cry of joy erupting from your lips, pushed his pointer and middle finger into you. You heeded the panties and leather gloves that entered you no mind as they were covered in your own lubricant, rubbing inside your tight pussy as he moved his fingers. They only added to the sensation, and you were gasping and moaning, tears shooting in your eyes, now that you were finally pleased.

Albedo’s experience in these matters was questionable, but all you could think about was more, more and more. Deeper, harder, faster! But you were too much of a mess to actually speak out these thoughts. For a while, he was merely massaging your insides. Like his breathing, evenly, rhythmically. It was nice to finally be filled with something, but it didn’t even take a minute before it simply wasn’t enough anymore.

You wanted more.

You wanted to be properly fucked, to absolutely lose your mind. Pushed over every edge there was until you were too much of a puddle as to even think for yourself anymore. If Albedo wanted to experiment on you, then so be it. You’d drink any other potion he’d hand over to you if it meant he’d finally screw you so well, you’d need an actual doctor to put you back together afterwards. Even just making love to you would have been enough if he was too inexperienced to give you what you needed. Just anything. Anything!

Twisting your throat in his grip, you managed to look to the side, facing him. You were hanging on his lips when he didn’t recoil as you kissed him, over and over, even a bit sloppily. Eventually, he returned the affection, and you got the taste of the man you wanted to send you to Pleasure Land. “Albedo, please,” you moaned against his lips, licking them appreciatively with your tongue still out.

“Fuck me, love me, destroy me—I don’t care! Do what you must, but I need more than this.”

He seemed to contemplate your words as you kissed him again, robbing him of his breath like he did of your clear thinking with that damn potion. If not for the pure desperation spreading from between your legs, you might have turned angry at how long he thought before acting. What else could you do to hurry it up? What else could you say to him to make him fuck you senselessly?

“Do it for me,” you finally moaned. “For us.”

And that seemed to be enough for him.

Fucking finally.

It's not that difficult To get your head around You'll never meet another me You'll never, never ever Never ever meet another me

Had you known that Albedo had any other interest than his experiments or studies, you might have tried to seduce him long before this. You thought him to have no interests in deeper relationships, no sense of need and longing aside from his hunger for knowledge. He had always been a bit of a recluse despite warming up to you. But the only thing bigger than his cock was your smile, constantly widening as your hips crashed into each other.

It was painfully unskillful, but it was the fuckery you had wanted. Well, you did tell him to destroy you, and he did, taking your virginity together with his own. You had even turned over for him and spread your damn legs, inviting him to do these things to you. The table beneath you was cracking under the pressure, Albedo’s knuckles turning snow-white as he gripped the edge, using it to slam you two into each other while muttering sentences that made no sense to you. You were simply happy to be filled. To have your walls clench something inside of you and open up to allow Albedo all the entry he wanted. If you were an experiment, you’d be a good experiment.

Every bulging vein along his shaft seemed to pulsate as his cock was enveloped by your warmth. His slight curve was digging you out deep, exploring, excavating you like a rare cave of treasures. Hundreds, millions, of electrical shocks prickled from your cunt into your whole body. Enough to make you wish that this sacred ritual would never stop, and you could always feel this good. As much as you wanted it to stop, with every thrust, followed by a moan or gasp from your lips, you anticipated the next one and the one after that.

“We fit… well,” Albedo groaned, and you heard a cracking above you as his hands put enough pressure on the wood for it to break. “Yes! Yes, we fit amazingly! Don’t stop!” you encouraged him, ecstatic that you were allowed to continue feeling pleasure because of him. Whatever he needed - encouragement, movement, a tighter cunt - you’d give it to him—he only needed to ask!

“I thought so,” he sighed proudly, and you heard the smile on his lips. “I knew we were made for each other. We’re perfect. Perfect for each other. There’s no one else that could do this.”

What did he mean? Whatever. “We are! We… we…”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence. Even with your hands shooting up, gripping his wrists, you weren’t fast enough before it hit you. Completely overwhelmed, your legs tensed, sticking out to Albedo’s sides as you were overrun by your orgasm. It was ripping the air from your lungs, hitting you like a hammer to your forehead as you arched your back. The strained creak of the table didn’t reach your ears, neither did Albedo’s groan as you tightened around his cock, perhaps painfully so. But he said it himself: you two fit. He put you into this situation. He’d have to endure it.

All the heat of your body was collecting in your abdomen. You even felt a shuddering cold enveloping you as you came. There was no feeling for time or space around you anymore before your body was suddenly thrown back into reality, and an awful one nonetheless. Slumping, you seemed to lose all your energy as Albedo continued to pound into you, perhaps overcome by his own pleasure now, even though the feeling between your legs was no longer the wonderful one you remembered faintly.

It became painful, rather suddenly, overstimulating you and making you want to push him away, but you were too weak to move. And then, a new kind of warmth spread through you as Albedo grunted, his cock pulsating inside, hips shaking while he instinctively tried to get deeper and deeper inside of you. Everything was so sensitive now. It hurt. It was uncomfortable. You wanted to push him away, have some space and recover. The cracking of the table intensified until Albedo lost his grip, parts of the wood tearing out where he held it, his body falling on top of you, both of you breathless and exhausted.

You two had been friends for years. Ever since you tried to become a knight, you had been close, but failing your tests, you opted for a life as an adventurer instead. You liked him. This should have been okay. It was a necessity after the potion clouded your mind. So why were there tears in your eyes as you couldn’t move beneath him, still feeling his semen shoot inside of you like an endless stream of shame?

Why wasn’t this the relief you wanted and anticipated all throughout it? Why did it make you feel used and nasty, disgusting even? You wished you could go back to when you still wanted it all because you only now realized you had wanted none of it. Now, when it was all too late already.

I know, I know, I know I'm always in your place But don't you see my dear I am your doppelgänger Have your faith so

-  Albedo’s POV -

It was about time he made a move.

Had he known it would turn out this well, Albedo would have worked on the potion much earlier. Used it much sooner. For years he’s been studying you—the good times and the bad. He’s been watching, observing, studying your every move, rituals, believes. Knowledge was the most important thing to him, but you had been able to top it. Now, all the knowledge he wanted to have was about you. Like a disease, you were spreading through him, and he was an all-too-willing host for it.

But no matter what he tried, you just wouldn’t get the hint. Dates were simple hang-outs for you, and oftentimes you’d invite your other friends to tag along. Whenever you came to his laboratory, you’d rather chat up Sucrose than shower him in your already limited attention, Albedo always coming to little before you had to go again on a ‘new adventure’ or ‘expedition’. When was it his time to explore you? When would he be able to have the adventure of having you unconditionally? When would it finally pay off that he studied you meticulously?

Everything. He knew everything about you, except for the parts he didn’t. What was your body like? How would it feel? What could Albedo do with it, and how would it function as he explored all the possibilities there were? He wanted to be so much closer to you. Painfully close if he had to.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. When he heard the news of your return, he knew you’d come to see him. Albedo knew that he had to have you then, finally, all to himself, sending Sucrose away in preparation. Hundreds of ingredients, but he only needed five, maybe six. The potion would be strong, but he had done it a good handful of times, testing it on unsuspecting knights that fell to their legs before him, almost jizzing their pants before Albedo gave them the antidote out of mercy. But they weren’t what he wanted.

They weren’t you.

Still, Albedo knew it would work. You’d feel bad, but you, too, would finally crumble, unable to go another second without him. He’d make you feel how it was to be obsessed with these thoughts of you. It would drive you to do the things necessary to get what you wanted, just like him.

Albedo had broken into your one-room apartment so many times, recreating a key for it even. Going through your diary, over and over in the search for more knowledge about you. Smelling your clothes and holding them in his arms, hoping to be fulfilled by the feeling. But it was of no use. These were all just placeholders that couldn’t replace you. Laying in your bed, drinking from your glasses - they were all just empty promises of what could be. Had you stuck around at least a little longer, you might have recognized the speaking patterns he learned from you. How much he tried to emulate you since you were never available to him.

Albedo needed you. He wanted to be the air you breathe and the meal you eat. You just needed to want him as much as he wanted you, and everything would have been perfect. The world could have continued turning while you two were finally in each other’s arms, and he could soak in the information he was gathering about you, being the only one to ever know you this well.

If you were his experiment, you were the best one out there yet.

He’d never find something as thrilling, exciting, making his heart race as much as the study of you.

And holding the gaudy pink potion in his hand, he was ready to finally make his dreams reality. He’d finally have you all to himself.

Perfection.

Love me-love me-love me More than you possibly can It's not that complicated No matter what they say You'll never meet another me It's not that difficult To get your head around You'll never meet another me You'll never, never ever Never ever meet another me

Albedo saw it in your eyes: you didn’t understand a word he said.

However, it was okay. He’d have so much time to explain it all to you thoroughly if you were interested, but right now, your mind was a fog of pleasure at best, burnt by his love potion. At first, it made you so sick, but even vulnerable, you were the epitome of loveliness. And when he noticed your gaze turning into desire, it was as if he drank the potion himself.

Oh no, it was so much better than that.

You were so open, giving, he only needed to make you space, and there you were, shaking your ass for him like a needy little slut. But you were asking for him, uttering his name. Albedo fell in love with this vulgar, desperate side of you all over again. It made him want to see your smile again, try out the innocent things he was thinking about. But there wasn’t enough time to do all of his studies and indulge in your pleads and cries for him, and Albedo realized he wanted one of these things more than the other as well.

Maybe he accidentally tasted some of the potion as he kissed you. But even if his first step into this study was a dirty practice, it was as good of a start as any. He always knew what a good girl you were, but as you begged him, rolling his name off your greedy lips so deliciously, he couldn’t hold back either. There was much to learn, but your urging made it feel like there was too little time, when really, he could enjoy every second of it.

Albedo only needed to lift your leg for you to roll over on your back willingly. He learned from Kaeya’s drunken stories, and he prepared himself for you in advance, his cock aching in his pants while you were taking the potion inside of you. He’d have you now, let you devour him, and join this feeling of pleasure that you kept muttering about, crazed by the potion. You couldn’t keep even one thought to yourself, but damn, you were so cute talking about how much you needed him.

Albedo needed you too.

Pushing into you, it was tight, much less comfortable than the feeling that Kaeya described. But you were moaning, gasping, tears collecting in your eyes. Albedo kissed them away as you gripped his collar roughly, demanding from him to fuck you. The potion needed some adjustment, he decided then. It was clouding your reason a bit too much. Still, he couldn’t leave you so needy for him, could he? Especially since he knew this feeling very well, knew how terrible it was to desire a person.

If all it took for you to completely and utterly fall in love with him, he’d do you any favor. He’d give you the pleasure you wanted, fuck you, destroy you as you put it so nicely. Until you couldn’t live without him anymore. Until there was only Albedo on your mind. Even if it was a tight squeeze, he fit inside you, using your wetness to maneuver freely, while you did your part in opening your legs properly. Deeper, you demanded. Albedo would give you deeper.

Gripping the table above you, you screamed as he plunged into your depths, throwing your head back and shaking his collar, the fabric tearing in your grip. Albedo appreciated every new side of you, the destructive one, the one in pain. He wanted to see them all because they were all his to begin with. You were perfection in the flesh, how you took him despite being a virgin just seconds ago. It made him panic, thinking he should have slowed down, but how could he? You were waiting for him, pleading with him, accepting him. Albedo couldn’t let you down now. No, he wouldn’t let you down ever.

There was no one as perfect for you as he was. Once he knew it all, there would be no one you could turn to but him. Albedo would savor every moment with you until the end of his study. The picture of you, half-naked, stretching and needily reaching for him would be one he’d draw until he ran out of paper and chalk, and then he’d continue to draw you in his mind for forever.

You were his muse, and you’d become his masterpiece. Once he was done with you, he’d spend the rest of his life worshipping you, bringing you all the pleasure you could want and all the love that you would need.

Love.

He’d learn it. There was nothing he couldn’t learn. Albedo would learn every touch you loved, every dish you loved, every way that he could possibly love you until you were filled to the brim with his love. All he wanted in return? Your love. Please, love him too, deeply, desperately, just like when you asked him to fuck you senseless. You had no idea what you were doing to this alchemist, robbing him of every reasonable manner and common sense his master embedded into him. People called him a recluse, but the reality was he only wanted to be around you.

Maybe this was his purpose.

To love you.

Oh, if that was true, he would. He swore he would as your body suddenly grew tense, enveloping his cock painfully tight. Albedo took a deep breath, unable to think of anything else but your pussy clenching down on him. Love, what was love? Could he give you love with this? Was this going to make you love him as well? You were slumping as the sensation of your orgasm vanished, allowing him to move. This would be one form of love. Albedo read about it in books. People that love each other fuck and create new life. It was an act of love.

Cumming deep inside you, he had never felt this kind of release before. Even Albedo wasn’t aware he could do this, grunting as the wood in his grip broke away, robbing him of something to hold on to. But luckily, there was you. You and your warm body and sweet smell. All he ever wanted. Finally… Finally, he had you. Now you were his.

Above him, you sobbed, and Albedo decided that meant you were happy. He’d hold you now, finally, after all this time, and enjoy your happiness. Making it his. The only problem was the door to the laboratory suddenly opening, Sucrose’s voice ringing out. Your body went rigid when you heard her, and a loud gasp escaped his assistant, finally making Albedo sigh and lift himself up from you, destroying the sweet moment you two had.

“Get. Out,” Albedo growled angrily at Sucrose, who grew redder by the second, stammering as she dropped some ingredients in a basket before running out.

He hated it. He hated, hated, hated it. No one else should see you like this. No one else should get between you and him, gain even a little bit of your attention. Albedo wanted you all to himself. You were only his experiment, his study. His love. You needed no one else to look at you.

And yet, hearing you whimper, your hands now clasped over your face with sobs escaping you, Albedo calmed down. Bringing his hand to your cheek, slipping it under yours, he gently comforted you, realizing it must have been so much worse for you to be seen than it was for him. You shouldn’t be bothered by these bad thoughts. Only thoughts about him. How good he was in making you happy. How much you loved him. How perfect he was for you.

Think about him always.

Love him.

It's not that complicated No matter what they say I'll never meet another you It's not that difficult To get my head around I'll never meet another you

Because there was only you on his mind as well, day and night.

You were perfect for each other.

You belonged to each other. 

No one would get in his way now. No one would destroy what you two had.

And he’d make as many potions as it would need for you to understand this too.

[holylangdon]

Ok ok I saw you asking for Austin requests. How about being his partner/muse? I can’t stop thinking about it 😌

Austin was never really looking for a muse, and to be honest, he wasn’t really very fond of the idea of having one

As far as he was concerned, he already had his and he didn’t need anything else

The pill provided him with an endless rush of inspiration, and why would he fix something that isn’t broken?

Plus, the guys he knew who had claimed to have found their muses were always pretentious pricks who never shut up about them

Austin had just arrived in town for the winter and the first little black pill was barely down his throat when he decided he needed a drink

He was halfway through his second Spritz when you sat at the booth across from his, and he couldn’t help but watch as you drank your cocktail, a book in hand

You were so soft and so beautiful, he felt completely and utterly flooded with ideas and inspiration when he looked at you

Unsurprisingly, he pestered Belle about the pretty girl across the bar until she got sick of it and finally just told him to go goddamn talk to you

Even with how outgoing he usually was, he felt so nervous just walking up to you and starting a conversation, but thankfully you didn’t mind

The two of you immediately clicked, the conversation flowed so naturally and comfortably like you’d known each other your whole lives

You sat together for what felt like forever and talked about anything and everything that came to mind

When it was finally time to go, he was so relieved when you asked if he wanted to come to your place

He accepted, giving Belle a grin on the way out, and he would’ve sworn he saw a little smile on her (usually cold) face too

After that, you spent most of your days together, whether it be in his house in the woods or in your tiny little rental by the beach

He didn’t care much about the when or where, just as long as he got to see you

When he was with you, he was almost always writing, and if he wasn’t, he was scribbling something down in a little black notebook

He paid attention to every little detail about you, drinking it in; The creases of your face and the way you smiled when he would make a dumb joke, the way you always subconsciously ran your fingers along the hem of his shirt when he wore silk, how you made your coffee in the morning

Every little thing was equally as important and enchanting to him as the next

You loved him and you loved reading his works and watching him create, and that only fueled him more somehow

The fact that you were so interested and attentive when it came to his writing made him fall in love with you even deeper, if that was even possible

He truly believed that this was some of the best stuff he’d ever created, not to mention the happiest he’d ever been, and that was proven when awards season came around

He was always sure to thank the love of his life at the end, but in a way so sickly sweet and poetic that it basically made the audience gag

But he really didn’t care, because for once, he really meant every word

[chaotic-vibes-only-please]

Sub Masky and Hoodie NSFW Headcanons

(Minors Kindly Skidaddle!)

Masky

He doesn't mind taking a break or two by having you dom every once in a blue moon. Actually likes it more then he lets on, Masky thinks its sexy as hell. Especially when you dress up in black lingerie and heels, he's a slut for that

This man will be a brat all the way through just to provoke a reaction from you. But, just gag him with anything and he'll shut up.

Masky will become very flustered when you praise him. He'll blush and cast his gaze away in a shy manner. This poor boy is insecure on the inside and when you treat him like someone special he'll melt underneath your hands

Falls apart when you ride him. Masky will beg and whine for you to make him cum. You make him ask over and over again until finally your sadistic streak breaks. "P-Please let me cum I'll do anything! Please stop teasing!"

You best believe he'll call you mistress/Master or anything you want him to adress you by to show your authority over him.

Enjoys when you finish using him like a toy by rising him at your own pace and he cums inside of your cunt. You'll sit on his face, thighs on either side of his head, and make him clean your mixed juices with his tongue

Doesn't perfer being tied up only because Masky is indeed a control freak and he likes to feel a small sense of that comfort at all times. But, if you coax him with enough climaxes he'll let you do it

Hoodie

Hoodie is your good boy. He's very obedient and you find that extremly adorable. Seriously, this dude will follow your every command. Ride him, peg him, use toys, make him eat you out, the possibilities are endless

Would call you Mommy/Daddy. Loves the power dynamic between the two of you. In reality he's stronger than you but something about someone weaker than him being able to take advantage of his body turns him on to no end

What's ironic is that in public he'll act all tough and dom in front of the other mansion residents. A demonstration of this would be his constant teasing or jokes on missions "I can tie you up like that if you don't behave" but in the bedroom behind closed doors he's all like "F-Faster please I need you! Harder!" As you peg him

Masochistic. Slap his face, pull his hair and he'll moan for you. Loves when you leave scratch marks all over his skin. It gives him a sense of security to feel claimed. Maybe make him wear a bracelet or necklace to subtly stand as a sign he's yours

Breath play? Yes. Choke this man, smother him, do whatever. It will make him cum on the spot

Goes crazy and starts begging desperately when you suck him off because you tie his hands together so he can't do anything about your teasing, you'll drag the blow job out as long as possible and it breaks his mind

[as-i-watch]

All i want

Is for a domestic scene where they joke about Zoro's blindspot bc he has no peripheral vision on his left side.

Deep down i know he's reflexes are too sharp but i still want it.

Potentially Luffy hiding there after he messes with Zoro's weights or Zoro saying something *nice* about Sanji not knowing the cook is standing right there

Just imagine the possibilities of this gag, they are endless

[azucarian]

Second part to my idea of how Tokyo Revengers could possibly end (First part here)

MANGA SPOILERS(?)

TR ; mental illness, major character death

A world without Hanagaki Takemichi felt unnaturally bland - anyone would admit. It had only been days since he passed away and yet the impact of his death was so blatantly apparent.

Mikey and Draken had explained to each of their friends that Takemichi had passed away - but, by far, the worst reactions came from Hinata and Chifuyu. The moment the news slipped from their lips, Hinata asked them if they were joking and, if they were, it wasn’t funny. Neither knew how to react, and averting their gazes. Chifuyu just broke down into silent sobs - he could tell instantly by their pale complexions and the dark eyebags under Draken’s usually clear eyes.

Mikey whispered apologies, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry - I couldn’t save him, I didn’t save him— ” Hinata didn’t let him finish and simply cried, realising the severity - her boyfriend, her happiness, was dead. She embraced Mikey, and he held her tightly in turn.

The funeral caused agony for everyone involved - especially as Takemichi's mother collapsed to her knees, screaming "my baby" through her tears. As a mother, she felt as if she had failed - and no one would be able to convince her otherwise. Hinata approached the casket, hardly holding it together - but her hands shook as they pressed themselves against the wooden structure holding her late boyfriend.

“Come on, Takemichi... Now’s the time to tell me you’re joking—” Those words broke everyone else into an endless stream of wailing, tears and regrets.

I feel as if Hinata would never truly get over his death - especially considering she still loved him twelve years into the future. She would likely be placed on medication, or be consistently seeing a therapist, due to her claiming that she had “gone on days out” with Takemichi (which was obviously impossible).

Mikey would become Hinata’s support - he felt as if he owed that much to Takemichi. He would do an all-round trip to everyone’s graves every week - first to Shinichiro, then to Emma, then a small visit to Izana’s, then to Baji’s.

Then he’d finally sit down for a few hours to tell Takemichi about his week. How much he misses him “I wish you could see how everyone was doing, Takemitchy— We all miss you like crazy. Mitsuya made you this memorial blanket, look—” And he’d show the sewn fabric to the grave. There would likely be with something cheesy like ‘Toman’s Little Hero’ or ‘Crybaby Hero’ on the front, or stitched into the corner. Mikey would definitely be in tears by the end of it, blurting his regrets - and it always made him feel better (it made him believe that Takemichi was comforting him, even beyond the grave).

Chifuyu would always make it a habit to visit his grave weekly too - and (in the future), occasionally, he was joined by Kazutora (especially on days where the pet store was closed). He’d always bring a new puppy or kitten along, because he knew Takemichi would appreciate it if he knew. Kazutora always paid his sincerest respects, bowing so deeply that anyone would think he would break his back - he may not have known Takemichi very well, like, at all, but he was the boy who tried to save Baji from his bad mistakes. Kazutora could only hope they were looking after each other in the afterlife. Chifuyu would always light incense on his grave, and place his favourite snacks - jokingly saying how Takemichi couldn’t steal his food anymore. He’s another one who would cry, probably because of his own poorly timed jokes - but it was how he coped and no one judged him for it.

After the incident, Draken found it difficult to not scrub his hands raw - the staining feeling of his friends blood on his hands haunted him for the longest time (he only stopped when Mikey made him promise to, because Takemichi would feel upset knowing Draken was hurting himself). He didn't visit the cemetery often but, when he did, he came sporting a bunch of flowers and a few gag gifts (he wasn't great at gift giving, so he opted to be funny instead) "You're probably sitting up there worrying your ass off about us— Give it a rest already," although his words were harsh, a smile was on his face the entire time. He whole heartedly believed Takemichi was probably panicking and bothering Emma and Baji in the afterlife (if there was one, he wasn't too sure). He wouldn't cry, and he wouldn't rant - he'd just run his hand along the grave stone before he left with a "I'll see you later, Takemitchy". He didn't know how to appropriately express his sadness.

Mitsuya would always join Hakkai and Yuzuha on their trips to visit Takemichi's grave - mainly because Hakkai couldn't stand visiting alone. It hurt him to much to see his hero no longer living alongside them. The blonde had done a lot for Hakkai and his sister - but neither of them could escape that loneliness that came with his sudden death. The trio always sit and have a natural conversation and, occasionally, Mitsuya would pipe up with a "They're idiots, ain't they, Takemitchy?" in an attempt to involve him in their chatters. Oddly enough, Mitsuya always found himself sewing extra clothes - during the winter he'd bring a sweater to Takemichi's grave as a gift (although he was aware he couldn't never wear it) and always jokingly tell the tombstone how atrocious his fashion sense was "You dressed like a four year old had picked your outfit— Hell, even a four year old could dress better!". Hakkai and Yuzuha would always bring little trinkets that they found in the local markets - tiny figurines, poker cards, etc.

Other old members of Toman try as often as possible to visit the grave and offer their condolences - Smiley and Angry visit it together, despite not being overly close to the boy; they appreciated him and his loyalty to Toman and his friends. Pah-chin and Peh-yan visit with Pah's wife, bowing deeply and leaving cecelias on his grave before leaving. Inui occasionally asks Koko to visit with him but, when he's alone, he just quietly talks - knitting stupid scarves and wrapping them around his grave when he was finished (he was already used to grieving, especially after Akane).

Every year, on Takemichi's birthday, everyone gathers together for a celebration - over the years they've learned that, instead of remembering him for his death, they should honor his memory through celebrating his life. Everyone would get drunk, someone would cry, and many adoring speeches were made - a picture of sixteen year old Takemichi Hanagaki would be on the table, a drink poured for him as a sign of respect. As life continued, the ex-gang members started having families - and they all spoke highly of the blonde who had improved their lives. Their children adored Takemichi and his insane stories, inspiring them to be as courageous - even when they're scared.

Although he was no longer with them, he remained as a sacred memory to each of them - and they were sure he was happy with that ending.

FIN

[jxsatlas]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1

keith kogane x gn! reader – next

DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!

SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.

MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."

He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.

"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.

You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.

Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.

"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.

"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.

"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.

"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.

"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.

Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.

"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.

"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."

Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."

"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.

So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.

"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."

Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"

"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.

"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.

"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.

"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."

"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."

"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."

"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.

"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.

"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."

"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"

"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."

"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"

"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.

Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.

Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.

And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.

Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.

Simulation Failed.

The first failure on your school record.

You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.

He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.

The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.

Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.

You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.

"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.

"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"

"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.

"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.

Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.

You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.

"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.

"That's not true, sir!" he barks.

Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.

Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.

With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."

Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.

"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.

Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.

"I expected better of you."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.

You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?

You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.

"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.

You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."

"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.

"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."

"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."

You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."

Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"

You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.

You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.

She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.

You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.

"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.

You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.

"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"

"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.

"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.

"Punch him!" she shouts back.

"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.

"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.

"Neither do I," you joke.

"I heard that!" your roommate barks.

"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.

"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.

"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."

"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"

"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.

"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.

"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."

"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."

"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.

"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.

"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."

You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.

"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"

His words irk you immensely.

You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?

You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.

"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.

"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.

"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.

"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.

"Well, have fun," your roommate says.

You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."

"Alright, see ya!"

You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"

Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.

"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."

You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.

Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.

As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.

Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.

You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.

[kimageddon]

Star Wars Fics

I was challenged by @ashotofspotchka . So I did it.

The Prompt

Made this a Tech x Reader fic. I got inspired. And became a bit longer that intended.

I heard y'like Tech?? @eyecandyeoz @fallenrepublick (tag a fan!)

The Wedding

Well this was a right mess to be in. How had you even gotten into this situation? Oh of course… Cid. As much as you admired her, she was a tricky one. If not for her you would have never been invited to her salon, nor would you have met the most frustrating band of men you’d encountered. And their adorable little sister of course.

Had you not taken that job with them a few months ago, you would not have gotten to know them so well. Not been put in so many ridiculous situations and nearly losing your head. You wouldn’t have that new scar across your thigh… and you wouldn’t have grown to like them so much.

Damn it. Your mentor always told you not to get too attached to people, one never knew when they would find each other on opposite sides of the field so to speak. Casual acquaintances were one thing. Friendship was not a good idea. Anything more was downright dangerous. You told yourself it was alright to have a little affection for them. That it was alright to laugh and make jokes, to share a meal with them, to make them smile. That was alright… wasn’t it?

You let out a sigh wishing the ceremony would soon be over. Not that it wasn’t lovely. Of course it was. The venue was beautifully decorated, from the flowers to the guests, everything was stunning. A perfect picture of romance and love and devotion.

You usually detested weddings. There was one incident when you were young and… well it spoiled the idea of them to you. Though this was… actually rather nice. The group, you included, were tasked with providing security for the wedding as a favour to one of Cid’s associates. It was one of the more ridiculous missions… though even you had to admit, you cleaned up alright in a silken dress and heels. It had been a while since you’d had to go undercover and this was… well it was rather fun.

The downside of course had been seeing the boys in their suits. It wasn’t good for your heart. If they looked a picture of badass intimidation in full armour, then the five of them in suits were just perfect.

Hunter even had his hair swept back, though it took you a second to recognise him without the bandana. Wrecker had been a little grumbly about feeling unprotected but was very pleased when you told him he was very handsome. Crosshair had rolled his eyes at first, but gotten very offended when you snatched his toothpick from his lips. Echo had a moment when he was finally dressed. You’d been tying his bowtie when he’d let out a little huff and gave a small smile, saying he “felt human again.” Your heart broke at these words because even with his brothers he still felt… lesser. You had been quick to assure him that he was more human than anyone you knew and that the prosthetics meant nothing on that. Seeing him puff up with pride again was worth nearly getting shot last week.

Even Omega had a pretty dress on and flats tied to her ankles with ribbons. You and she had picked a dress to match Hunter’s suit specifically, she looked up to her big brother so very much, you often thought he was more like a father really, but kept these thoughts to yourself for now.

The last one to join you was the one that affected you the most of course. Tech stepped out onto the landing platform looking like a million credits and like he should have a hot woman on each arm. Like he could make any woman swoon with just a wink.

Hot damn.

Of course he would not do such a thing, and was just looking around, observing the surroundings for possible points of attack, vulnerability and in general taking in the surroundings. As you were also meant be doing. Internally you swore and after drinking in his obliviously gorgeous self, you’d returned to praising the way Omega had pinned her hair without needing your help.

Tech had of course been one of the members of the self-proclaimed ‘Bad Batch’ that you had found the most interesting. He always knew at least five facts about the planet or target or mission that the others didn’t. Always reading, always observing. His eyes behind his goggles were never still. One could think him cold if they didn’t look close enough. But he had a deep passion for knowledge, for technology… its no wonder he had chosen such a name. Practical. To the point. You liked that about him. You like quite a bit about him as you recently discovered. The way he could fix anything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about learning new things. The way he was so damn efficient at his job, he knew the Havoc Marauder inside and out. The little smile when the two of you shared an inside joke. Or the way he rolled his eyes whenever one of his brothers exasperated him. The way he was always right there to help Omega over large stones or down the stairs of the ship. He was so thoughtful like that, despite not really talking about it.

Actually no. No, you didn't like that. It was just positive observations. That’s all. He was a colleague… maybe a friend. Maybe. There was nothing more to it, you told yourself. There wasn’t anything meant in the little brushes of your fingers when you two passed items between each other. Or passed in the hold of the ship. Or when you were squashed together when hiding from Imps. He didn’t think like that. Right?

Currently, you were standing on one side of the large room, waiting for the bride to arrive. On one side were you, Hunter and Crosshair, standing alongside the pews. On the other, was Omega, Echo, Wrecker and Tech. You wished Tech was on your side of the room, then he wouldn’t be in your vision at least. Not that it meant anything! You were allowed to admire the handsome technician of course, but that's all it was. He certainly wasn’t looking back at you every minute or so either. You were probably imagining it. You had to keep your eyes out for any breaches in security. Any guests acting strange. Certainly not staring at the drop-dead gorgeous clone in glasses across from you.

“Feeling alright, Feisty?” Hunter asked in a low whisper. You smirked at the nickname, apparently you had made an impression on them in the first mission when the client had gotten too mouthy. “Your heart rate is higher than usual.” He added, and you could hear definite amusement in his tone.

You pursed your lips together, trying not to smile from embarrassment. “I’m fine Hunter.” You replied out of the corner of your mouth. Another sweep of the venue with your eyes-- oh kriff Tech was looking your way. Your eyes met for just a second before you tore them away. You heard Hunter chuckle.

“You sure?” He muttered, folding his arms,

“Shut up, Hunter.” You retorted with a soft huff. He chuckled again and you felt your face grow hot. By the nine moons of Endor you wanted to run. It was then the music began and you steeled yourself. The ceremony was beginning.

It was lovely, really. Very sweet, lovely and romantic. The Togruta and his Twi’lek bride seemed very in love if the look on the groom's face was to be believed. He practically lit up like a beacon on seeing her. You had the brief thought... would anyone do that for you? Before immediately pushing it away. Those sorts of thoughts were dangerous. You were sure that it was going to be boring… but you couldn’t help but get a little distracted when they began to say their vows.

“...my darling. There is so much I want to say to you. So much I have felt and left unsaid, I am sure you know just how I feel just by the way I look at you.”

Your eyes instinctively flicked to the otherside of the room. You glimpsed his eyes on you and was immediately caught in the depths of his soft brown eyes. The gentle and kind look you had seen many times, but thought nothing of. He was just kind, that’s who he was. In this moment though-- you were sure there was… a little more to it.

“...It was not easy to let myself open up… to bring myself to acknowledge my feelings but in one moment I knew they were endless and unrelenting. I love you from the depth of my soul and I never want to be apart from you…”

Oh hells… these vows were so saccharine sweet that normally you would be gagging… but these ones hit a little too close to home. You couldn’t stop your eyes from being tugged toward the suited clone trooper opposite you, no matter how you forced them away, to scan the room for danger, they were always drawn back to him. Always him.

“...When I met you you were just so wild. Such a firecracker…!”

There was a laugh across the room and you almost jumped, reminding yourself you were in a crowd. Though none of them paid attention to you. Only one.

“...It was like seeing the sun for the first time, with you in my world colours were brighter, food was sweeter, I found myself longing for times when we could be together, even in the small moments…”

You recalled the times Tech and yourself had been together, doing maintenance, repairs, listening to the music through the entertainment channels. The little laughs, the simple things.

“...not everything was easy, and there has been so much danger…”

You remembered your last serious injury, the piece of twisted metal sticking out of your leg while you hauled ass back to the ship, firing behind you to cover the boys. The way Tech’s eyes had become as big as moons when you finally collapsed, and they saw how bad the injury was.

“... but I always trusted you to get me through anything. I love you, my darling. With all my heart, and soul and with every beat of my heart and breath in my body. I will be yours even after all the stars in the galaxy burn out.”

You had been unable to tear your gaze from Tech’s for the last minute or so and you could feel your face burn. It was only when the vows were done and the bride and groom kissed, their hands wrapped together in a red ribbon and the other guests clapped in support that you snapped out of your little reverie. You joined, half-heartedly in the applause but you felt… strange. You really wanted this mission to be over. Or a drink. Yeah, a drink would be good.