#the sunflower is very normal as you can see

[krispiebones]

Insane ginger child!? I mean her uncle is literally crazy, guess the apple doesn’t fall to far from the tree.

Hello again my old mental illness I am turning you into a horror au haha

[mortifying-macaroni]

Saw this ship chart going around so ofc I've taken the opportunity to make one for the Sabbat's power couple™

[gornackeaterofworlds]

Put those smelly feet away

Click for unfuzziness

[bunny-jpeg]

carnations

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, romantic, babies & kids, wife!reader, age gap (20s/50s), gentle sex, missionary, pregnancy, body worship

this bunny eats comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

tulips (max verstappen) - roses (charles leclerc) (nov. 3) - sunflowers (lando norris) (nov. 3)

exhaustion was normal after having a baby, babies were fussy little creatures who were learning every day about the big wide world. you understood, but that didn't mean that you weren't tired.

thankfully for the off season, you had your husband at home most nights and he was more than happy to look after your son, tano. he felt like he missed enough after only being with you for a week after you had him. toto felt like he needed to make up for lost time.

you woke up to the sound of the baby monitor going off, your son getting fussy in the early hours. he had been up a few hours earlier, but before you could even raise your head from the pillow you felt toto's hand on you.

"i've got it." he said softly before you put head back down on the pillow.

being in bed felt wrong knowing that toto was up with your son. you knew he was capable of taking care of him, but you didn't want to feel useless. so, you got yourself up and headed towards the kitchen. and the sight of your husband almost made your throat grow dry. he was standing there, with tano in the crook of his arm while he got used warm water to heat up the breast milk that was in the fridge in a bottle.

"Ich weiß, ich weiß. Du wirst bald essen." he said softly, your son was getting impatient with no being able to eat asap. toto looked down at tano and then to the bottle under the water.

you could see your husband's strong back with his sweatpants low on his hips. he was much older than you, but he was doting. he was a caring man who made sure that his wife and son had everything they needed. that meant getting up in the wee hours to take care of tano. you were his family and he loved you both dearly.

it also didn't hurt that he looked very handsome. even now with greying hair, he was perfect. it made something swim in your gut, the same lingering feeling that got you pregnant. your husband was very handsome.

you leaned up against the door way with your arms crossed. you yawned loudly which got your husband's attention. he looked over and gestured quietly for you to come closer. you helped him by finishing up warming the bottle before handing it to toto to feed your son. at the dining table near the kitchen, toto fed tano gently. you yawned into your fist.

"you should go back to bed, my love. i can handle it."

you shook your head, "no, no. we spent too much apart. the bedroom feels like miles away." you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

toto shifted himself on the wooden chair and carefully watched his son. tano was a lot like toto already. even at a little over seven months old. you could see it when the baby scrunched his little face and how clingy he was with you already. he was a real wolff already. matched with the dark hair of his father and his nose. it was cute.

"i love you." toto said.

"i love you too. even though your stupid tall genes made me carry a huge baby." you pointed a finger at him recalling your pregnancy with tano.

99th percentile and sympathy glances from the nurses when you went into labor. didn't help that tano was stubborn like his father too and i took longer than you hoped.

toto smiled as he took the bottle away from his son's lips, "and you did it so beautifully. look at our son."

you smiled at him. damn you, toto wolff, for making you feel something warm in your gut. to see him across from you with your son in his arms. shirtless with his chest hair on display. he held love in his eyes for you. your wild wolf.

"he looks a lot like you."

he smiled, "he has you smile, those knowing eyes. he always looks so curious. but, what he lacks in physical attributes from you. he will make up in personality. your kindness, your smarts, the beauty of your heart. i bet he will take in strays just like you."

you chuckled a little. you didn't know if he meant the two cats your brought home once or himself. regardless you blushed under his comments.

with tano eventually back in his crib, you got back into bed with toto. but something pooled in your gut under the exhaustion. your leg hooked over toto's middle and his face in your hands.

he smiled a little into the kiss before he pulled away and looked at you, "i think it's a little late for that, schatzi."

you shrugged, "it's been a while since we... ya know. with everything going on." you wrapped an arm around him. with formula one, tano, and everything else going on, you had little time to be intimate with your husband.

he kissed the apple of your cheek, your skin was warmed under his lips. he then started to pull at the shirt you wore to bed. he was greeted to the sight of your soft body. his breath was caught in his throat for a moment.

curves like aphrodite yet the strength of artemis to carry his son for nine months. you had a slight softness in your middle and it made him lick his lips. he had seen you naked since you had tano. but, to see it so close up. to feel your warmth on your skin.

you tried to cover up yourself with your hands but toto pinned your wrists to the bed over your head. his gaze was heated and it made you squirm. you said, "toto, don't stare."

he replied, "how can i not? not when i am looking at the most beautiful woman in the world."

"i still need to lose the baby weight."

he got closer to you, his chest against yours. his cock straining in his sweatpants. he then held your hips with both hands, "no, no. you look perfect like this." he then kissed you on the lips for a moment before he pulled away and got between your legs with his sweatpants kicked off to the end of the bed. his leaky cock stood at full attention.

"please, honey."

he rubbed his cock up against your achy slit. it had been so long since you two were intimate. while he worshiped your body at every moment during your pregnancy, it was nothing like feeling the closeness to your husband.

"you're beautiful." he said as he slipped his cock into you. so soft and perfect for him. it made a shiver run through his body as he took you by the hips and started to move against you.

"you're making me blush, toto."

"good, i want to have you blushing for the rest of my days. you always feel so nice when you have heat in your cheeks. you are the most beautiful woman i've ever laid eyes on. from the day we got married until now. and forever more." thrusting against you was euphoria for him.

he remembered your wedding day, he remembered how beautiful you looked for him. he felt like he didn't need to say any vows, it was plainly obvious that he wanted to marry you. his almost missed his cue to kiss you at the end because how entranced he was by you. he remembered when you gave birth to tano. and he did anything he could for you, even at the your grumpiest (which he understood). you had been everything for him. you had given him something he never thought he could have.

and as he palmed your breasts and kissed across your skin, he promised that he'd be the perfect husband for you. you deserve it. you and tano deserve the best toto wolff could offer. and sometimes that meant making gentle love to his beloved wife. his personal heaven.

you two kissed, pressed chest to chest now. your legs around his waist as you moved together. it felt good being with him. the pleasure was a throb in his chest and a cloud in your head.

you both needed to feel close to one another. to be in each other's embrace. after so long, to be next to your husband in such an intimate state felt so good. his kisses trailed across your skin.

his words were loose and with such affection. his phrases in german held the same affection as the ones in english. he tried to come up with every word he could think of to tell you that he loved you.

you kissed him once more and you met his pace. the two of you moved together on the bed. you held onto him, feeling the closeness to your beloved husband.

"i am lucky." he said, "most men would kill for the chance to be with you. you've only become more beautiful." he said which made you blush a little more.

you tried to look away but he pulled you with a searing kiss once more. there was an inferno in your gut. you were lucky to have him too, someone who treated you with such kindness and respect. who loved you very deeply.

"i love you."

"i love you too." he said as he cupped your face with a sweet devotion.

he continued to rut against you. you clenched your legs around his waist as he moved. his pace was gentle or at least more gentle than what you usually got involved with prior to pregnancy. you had firm memories of toto going to town on you in the back of his car. he groaned when you gripped onto his shoulders, your pretty short nails dug into his skin as you felt orgasm come over you.

you let out a pretty moan and your husband sealed it with a kiss as he lifted your hips a little higher to get at the best ankle. he kissed your lips tightly and gave it a few more heavy thrusts of his hips. his tip kissed the back of your pussy before he spilled his seed into you.

when the kiss was broken, he slowed to a still and panted heavily. he made a bit of a face and rubbed his hip. you gave a small chuckle and said, "old man." but then yelped when he gave your pussy and tender slap.

"i can still keep up with you, schatzi."

you raised an eyebrow as you continued to breathe heavily. you raked your nails down the hair on his chest. you asked curiously.

"then i'll find a million ways to keep that hungry cunt of yours busy." as he looked down at you. your husband may be the sweetest father, and a doting husband. but when it was you two alone in the bedroom, you remembered why you once called him the vienna stallion.

you were firmly reminded of it come morning, when toto's cum was plastered to your pussy lips.

-

a month later you got the ire of your doctor when you sat in her office and she looked at your blood work. you were only pregnant eight months ago, and now you were pregnant again.

"I suggest after this mrs. wolff that you go on a form of birth control." the doctor looked at your charts, "accidents this close together can cause problems long term. i suggest forms of family planning. having your husband working overseas most of the year doesn't seem to working." her words made you ears burn.

toto held tano in his arms and looked away to chuckle slightly, but it was cut off by the doctor's voice.

"either that or your husband should look into options as well. there's a clinic in the west end that'll happily give him a vasectomy." she said which made toto grimace.

you both looked a little ashamed. you were two for two in accidentally having children. most usually got more careful after the first, but now you were expecting another child right after tano. the baby squirmed a little bit in his father's arms and you felt embarrassed as your doctor talked about options for family planning after your second child. you were married! but, the heat still flooded your cheeks. you thought about the night with your husband. and what started out as a reintroduction to each other's bodies after months apart had become an expansion to your little family. <3

[smallestapplin]

My god I love your harem universe. Especially the Autobots and Decepticons having little piss fights over their precious human!

Now I’m just imagining poor Thundercracker and his “secret” crush on the human and how infatuated he is. Like a big love sick puppy

I can see him trying to shyly woo the human, possibly finding out where the human lives (from Skywarp cuz he couldn’t keep his mouth shut from his trine), sneaking over at night when they’re sleeping and doing something cheesy like throwing pebbles (small rocks) at their window to get their attention.

Poor guy probably fumbles and is blushing and he would just be so darn cute trying to ask the human out!!

I love thundercracker so much, thank you for this.

-

-

Thundercracker knew he shouldn't be here, he knew it well too, if the autobots won't have his head then the other decepticons would, the very thought should stop him in his tracks.

But here he stands just outside your habsuite, he's not sure what humans call it, but it looks nice, and is further away from town so he won't run into more humans, just you. Just you is all he wants, yes he's seen the footage Laserbeak caught, yes he watched it over and over and over again, imagining him as your lover.

Yet his spark yearned for something more.

You seemed so sweet, so funny, so considerate, that maybe, just maybe he'd have a chance with you, you already have s bunch of lovers, what's one more, right? He couldn't face you, but what could he give to make you know he wanted you?

Each morning when you'd awake, ready to head back to the autobot base, there would be quite the gift waiting for you.

First it was a big thing of energon, something you couldn't drink, though you've tried.

Next it was a massive geo cluster that had you in awe, you could barely manage to get it into your house, it was half the size of you! Next were some large sunflowers, root, dirt, and all on your porch.

A part of you wondered if you should ask around base, but maybe that would ruin the surprise? Or maybe it'll get them paranoid that someone else wants you, you don't feel threatened so you don't mention it.

It's not every night, but it's every other weekend, so it makes you wonder what their schedule is like.

Thundercracker can't believe himslef, he's like a sparkling all over again! When had his spark last pumped like this? The nervousness that ate away at his confidence, his anxiety rising each time he snuck away from the ship, and landed a little ways away from your habsuite, just as he's done every other weekend.

Walking as quietly as he could, making sure the groun beneath him crunched very little, he made his way up your driveway, ready to place yet another gift of flowers at your doorstep. His red optics look around, stopping when he saw the other flowers he gave you planted in your front yard.

You liked them! His wings twitch behind him, fluttering happily, he can't stop the smile forming on his face plate.

He looks at the very delicate flowers in his servos, the plants nearly as tall as the last bunch he gave you, but in reds, purples, and pinks, maybe you'd like the variety more? He hopes, he can already feel his spark racing.

Thundercracker carefully lays the flowers on your porch, making sure they are neat and out of the way so you won't step on them. He leans back eyeing his work, pleased with himself.

Your planet has many weird resources, but he's happy to have found something you liked! Normally on cybertron he would've found and gifted you shiny metals, or maybe even rare ones.

He wonders for a moment if you'd like an aerial show, and let him show off for you? Nah, that's too much, at least for right now-

"So you're the one leaving gifts for me."

You have to bite back a laugh as the giant bot jumps, flinching at the sound of your voice. His optics wide and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. There you stand on your roof, in your sleep wear, with a tired smile.

Thundercracker tries to control himself, but little does he know he wings are giving him away, shaking as he calms himself.

"Oh..I..uhh..I didn't mean to wake ya?"

His face plate is heating up, flushing a deep blue from the energon going to his helm.

"You didn't wake me up, I was staying up in hopes to catch you. I was wondering who was leaving me these things."

Oh Primus, he made you miss a rest cycle? Frag, he feels so bad.

"Thank you."

.....huh?

You smile once more, chuckling at his baffled expression.

"Thank you for the gifts, it's very sweet of you, Thundercracker."

You wish you could take a picture with his stiff his body gets, how his wings wiggle up and down, and just how adorable such a normally intimating con could be.

You knew his name, you remembered him! That means you think of him, right? He could melt right where he stood, he could offline right now and die happy.

"Don't mention it." He carefully sits down on yout lawn, allowing his face to be more level with yours, "On Cybertron it was common practice, mostly for us seekers, to gift items like this."

"To start a courtship, I take it?"

You can't hold back laughing now, nearly wheezing at how he sputters and trips over his words trying to explain no but yes, but also-

"How did you-"

"Wild guess, but your reaction was too cute."

He's going to die, this is how it ends for him, the cute human he's taken with flirting with him.

"I wouldn't mind."

Truly you wouldn't, you know your agreement with the autobots, they all agreed to be your lovers and not fight over who else you date, but you'll have to have a talk with them about at least Thundercracker.

He seems so sweet under that gruff exterior.

Even if such a big scary con shakes under getting a few compliments.

[elvensorceress]

very late wip wednesday that is not wednesday at all I'm sorry but have snickerdoodles of longing?

@daisyssousa @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @tizniz @hippolotamus @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @singitforthegirls @bekkachaos @sunflower-eddiediaz @hotshotsxyz @epicbuddieficrecs @daffi-990 @blutterlie @exhuastedpigeon @thelikesofus @livinginsunnyhell 💕 On your left you will see ridiculous pining idiots sharing a bed and being oblivious 👍 and Eddie being Completely Normal about Buck having Feelings(tm) for someone…

Buck lies down and turns onto his side toward Eddie. “Just in my head.”

Eddie reaches out and runs his fingertips along Buck’s forehead. “You still thinking about the breakup? Because he wasn’t good enough for you. No one is. You deserve someone who gets how special you are. You’re a catch.”

Buck huffs but the hint of a smile touches him. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Haven’t thought about him in a while actually.”

That’s something at least. “Good. He didn’t know how lucky he was.”

Eddie doesn’t know why other than his constant urge to be affectionate especially when someone needs cheering up, but as soon as he thinks about how he should withdraw and stop touching Buck, his hand has other ideas. And he has to dip his fingers into Buck’s curls and rub his head.

They’re so soft and so perfect at this length. They could even be longer and Eddie could bury his hand in more of them. 

The look Buck gives him is too piercing. For a second, it strikes through Eddie like lightning. But it’s gone in the next instant. 

Buck noticeably swallows hard. “I don’t know. Maybe he was unlucky.”

“If you’re going to insult my best friend,” Eddie warns and contemplates making a fist in Buck’s hair for emphasis on the warning. He doesn’t. But he does think about it. 

“No, I didn’t mean like that.” Buck leans into Eddie’s hand and smiles, just a little. “Not, ‘he’s so unlucky being with me’ but like, what if— what if he was right? When he said he knew he wasn’t my last. What if he saw something? Or noticed something?”

Eddie’s thumb wanders and brushes over Buck’s cheekbone, all absentminded instinct. “What kind of something?” 

Buck’s eyes flutter and close for a moment before he takes Eddie’s hand and holds it still against his own chest. “S-so-something like, something I didn’t know. Or didn’t realize. I didn’t know I liked him at first. I had no idea that’s what I was feeling. And— a-and what if that happened again? What if he knew I wanted someone else? Or that I have feelings for someone who isn’t him? And that’s how he knew he wasn’t my last.” 

Someone else? 

There’s someone else? 

Eddie doesn’t know why. But he can’t breathe. Or move. He looks at his own hand, happily, eagerly pressed to Buck’s chest over his heart. “You—” he says but loses the rest of the words. All he can do is echo. “Someone else? There’s someone? A new someone? Another someone?”

Buck shrugs, waves it off, doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. “N-no. No, but. I don’t know. Hypothetically. I guess. What if that were the case? What if that’s what he thought? And that’s why he ended it.”

What if his ex thought Buck wanted someone else and that’s why he got dumped? It’s plausible? The more concerning thing about this however is, “You’re not thinking about calling him again. Are you? You’re not going to try and get back with him? Please tell me that’s not what this is. You’ve been working so hard. We’ve baked so many things.”

Buck turns pink and shakes his head. “No, that’s not— it’s not what I mean. That’s not the point. He’s not the point. I was just wondering, you know? Since he realized I was crushing on him but totally unaware of it. Maybe it happened again. Maybe he knew before I did. What I feel. In theory, I mean. He knew I have feelings for someone else, so he had to break it off. So— s-so? That would make the whole situation unlucky. For him. Or both of us. If we were both having unrequited feelings for different people.”

That’s— sensible? Also so much to think about. How can Eddie think about any of it. How can there be another person already? That’s three in less than a year. Eddie’s had three relationships in his whole life. How does anyone manage feeling like that? Feeling and then not feeling or feeling something else while still stuck in the first feeling or trying so hard to feel something when there were no feelings whatsoever and you were already thinking that feelings were horrible— it’s too much. Way too complicated. “I guess. That would be unlucky.”

“Right? Unlucky.” Buck nods. Somehow with the energy of a nervous, twitchy squirrel. 

“Is there someone else? Another someone?” Eddie asks again. Because he can’t stop thinking he’s also missed something. Or everything. When did Buck meet someone new? Why wouldn’t he have mentioned? Why, again, are they back to crushes and this person I just met five seconds ago really sees me and unrequited— wait. “There is someone. How would you know it’s unrequited unless you have someone specific in mind?”

Buck lets go of Eddie’s hand. In fact, he moves Eddie’s hand back to his side of the bed and then deliberately lets go of it. “I was just wondering. It’s hypothetical. There isn’t anyone. I’m tired, aren’t you tired? We should sleep, yeah? Goodnight, Eds.” He turns away and switches off the lights and stays on his side with his back to Eddie.

Eddie pokes him in the back where he’s sensitive and ticklish. “You’re a fucking terrible liar.”

Buck bats his hand away and yawns. “Aaahhhmmmm not. So sleepy. Not lying. Sleeping.” 

Are they the fourteen year olds now? Eddie tugs the blankets around himself and wriggles on his back to get comfortable. “Whatever. You brought it up.”

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

hot in sarajevo i

[ part two ]

könig x f!reader operator (no use of "y/n") / 4k words / NSFW

cw: assassination, dubcon (not really bc reader is into it and consents, but better safe than sorry bc ymmv), unsanitary conditions, rough sex, unprotected p-in-v sex, fingering, creampie, brief mention of burn injuries, pre-established relationship a.n.: no excuse for this, indulged a brain worm on my day off bc i wanted to write something nasty. enjoy!

It’s been a blistering, miserable six hours out in the hills outside Sarajevo proper. The height of summer, surrounded by dead-brown grass blown about sadly in the weak breeze. You cook in your ghillie suit, knowing it could very well be another six hours under this heat with zero shade, just waiting on your target. Sweating. Searching. Souring. 

König is your spotter, and he’s already not pleased with the fact. He’d much rather be the one wrapped around the Steyr HS .50, instead relegated to the seemingly miserable role of binocular jockey. But the fact is, he’s better at recon, and you can stay planted in one place without moving even when your lower body burns with numbness. 

“I’m hard,” he announces in his way—no preamble, no fanfare, moderate expectation. 

“Christ,” you snort, pulling away from the scope only enough to throw a glance at him. He’s still pressed against the oculars, jaw working on sunflower seeds because they can’t smoke without setting the tinderbox field around them on fire. Otherwise, you can barely see the shape of him in his own ghillie suit among the grass. “Clench your legs and your torso, or hump the fucking dirt.”

“Not going to get the job done,” he laughs darkly, dumping back another mouthful of seeds. You can hear them crack between his molars as he bites down hard. 

He’s going to be a fucking handful after this. 

Going back to your scope, watching the highway, you promise him, “If you’re good helping me with this assassination, we can play when we’re done.”

Another hard bite, another gravelly laugh. Sing-song, he warns you, “Better hope he drives by so-oooh-oon, Schatzi.”

“Always nice to get a visit from mean-König,” you hum back, trying for unaffected, even as your cunt floods and clenches around nothing. 

It’s just hitting golden hour when the target finally deigns to bomb past your scope in a civilian vehicle trussed up in subtle armor. You and König slot right into the predator drift, bodies left behind to fall into the hunt. Working like extensions of one body, he confirms a PID, and throws calculations your way, sharp and sleek, and your blood turns into straight adrenaline, pupils dilated to pitch black.

You work like the sword of god, lining up your crosshairs, allowing for lead, allowing for wind and elevation, and when you exhale and give the trigger what it wants, the sky cracks in half with a sonic boom, big gun bucking brutal against your shoulder. With one shot you take out the target and driver, vehicle careening off the road. 

König’s low, restrained laugh blends into yours, your teeth chattering under your face covering. Two more shots cut the blood-and-gold colored sky, killing the remaining passengers, and something vile in you shrieks with delight when one of them staggers around without a head a few steps before falling backwards stiff as a board.

Your eyes catch his as you throw the safety, pulling the massive rifle into your arms to flee the scene, and he looks blood-poisoned with arousal. The normal blue-gray of his eyes are gone, sore, unblinking pink sclera around inkwell pools of black. His back heaves with his breathing, body rigid and clenched, hips grinding against the ground. He is going to fucking tear you apart and eat the pieces. Saturn Devouring His Son, König Devouring His Lover.

Without a word, you both force your bodies around in the tall, dead grass, ghillie suits blending your belly-drag crawl to the treeline.

There’s a five mile hike between your abandoned perch and the exfil vehicle, following back the steps you took this morning, with a staging site in the middle of it. Small clearing, deep enough that no one could stumble across it, a temporary home for your rifle’s case and minimal necessary equipment. 

The moment you’re both upright in the treeline, König’s got a vicious hand under your camo, gripping your belt, dragging you close and up, forcing you on unbalanced tiptoes. “You’re going to fucking give it to me,” he demands. 

You turn it around, snatching a hand under his hood, gun sagging in your arms. Your fist wraps around the jaw strap of his helmet, knuckles pressing into his jugular–his pulse is fucking racing, booming, screaming through his veins–and your teeth are shards of glass as you command him, “Fucking heel. You’re not being a good boy.”

That makes him pant, almost reeling, eyes blinking out of sorts, pulling you closer, almost against him. 

“That is not how it’s going to work today,” he says, slow and damning. Turns your blood into lava, thick and slow and lethal pumping through your heart as it fights for its life. He pulls the rifle from your hand, and it weighs nothing to him. Nearly looks like he’s got more to say, and he’s trying to figure out how to word it, but his brain is too clouded with lust to put it in the right order.

Hefts the gun over his shoulder like a bat, and shoves you back by the pelvis, releasing you. Time to go, the moves say, leaving you no dignified way to hold onto the authority that’s slipped through your fingers. 

You know he’s burning frustration, anger, and resentment as fuel for this mood. You were the designated sniper, he was a lowly spotter. In his mind, that position belonged to him, and you took it. It didn’t matter that you were the superior choice, that he was invaluable to the kill. 

No. Not at all. You stole from him, and he’s taking something in return.

If you weren’t thinking solely with your pussy, you would admit that it would probably be wise to exercise caution with him at the moment. But you’re not. You’re going to get your brains fucked out and painted on a tree.

At the staging area, scant gold light is cutting through the trees as the sun lumbers its way to setting, and the woods are humid and dense. Your boots crush fallen beech nut pods and pine needles. Could almost be Thoreauvian, if there was a lake, or not a gun big enough to kill god in the arms of a sexually frustrated Austrian maniac.

König is fast and quiet, ripping the mag out of the gun, emptying the chamber, dropping the gun on its case. You’d seen him piece apart a pistol to base components in ten seconds many times, he’s making himself take time with the rifle, leaving it barely touched.

You’ve got enough time to just prepare for him to grab you around the middle so you aren’t thrown off balance, leaning into his momentum as he hauls you to an enormous beech tree, his back sliding down the trunk. Keeps you pinned in his lap, laughing harsh and ugly as you deal with your belt, button, and zipper, “Good girl–good fucking girl. Know what I’m going for.”

“You’re easy to predict,” you bullshit him with a sharp edge. He’s going to get his way, and you’re going to deliver unto him whatever the fuck he pleases, but you’re going to keep your teeth through it. “Could’ve taken the suits off, could’ve really given you a show.”

“Cute that you think I’m in a rush. You’re in the suit on purpose,” he grates, thrusting against your ass, forcing you open with your legs over his knees. “Keep being mouthy. Only fucks me up worse.”

“Stiff breeze gets you fucked up,” you snort, but when he hooks his gloved thumb in your zipper, you lift your hips to help him pull your pants down your thighs. Leaves you exposed, drenched in sweat, and wet in his lap. “Goddamned freak.”

He bypasses the true and mutually reflective accusation completely, grinding the forehead of his helmet against the back of yours. Still looking for affectionate closeness, even when he’s out for blood. “Can smell you, good god,” he growls, sliding his huge hand into your underwear, grabbing your sex in ownership. “You and the military issue drawers–typical. Been a while since I fucked you in gear. Still wearing the boxers because you wish you were hanging dick, or is it just to match the attitude?”

“Commissary ran out of crotchless combat thongs. Waiting on a restock.” The rough fabric of his gloved middle finger splits your lips, teasing your hole, and for a flashfire second you think he’d better not give you a UTI with those dirty fucking things, before it burns straight out of your head. 

“Better luck next time,” he taunts, jaw tight. You can hear the wolf-fanged smirk in his tone. “Start going commando. Make it easier.”

“Maybe there isn’t a next time,” you volley back, “best you make the most of this.”

“There’s always a next time. No one else could fuck you like me. Little whore you are, you’d get bored.”

He blots all the thought out in your head, adding his ring finger to the mix, pushing both huge digits into your starving cunt. Rips a bark right out of you, arching off his chest and pushing against his hips for leverage, trying automatically to fuck down on them even as the pain of the fabric feels like it’s rasping your insides. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you gasp, going hot-cold-and-blind all at once, nipples pulling tight under your gear. 

He throws a heavy arm around your stomach, pulling you back down, merciful or mindful enough to know he needs to go slow, or this isn’t going to go anywhere except the infirmary. “Take it, Liebes, swallow them down with that pretty cunt,” he commands, his English as sharp and scraping as scythe blades felling harvest in wide, practiced strokes, “I’m not even close to done.”

You can already feel his fat cock straining against his pants, even through all the layers between you, and you rut back against it, at least trying to get some torture of your own added in. That just makes him stupid and animalistic, pushing his chin over your shoulder, trying to butt into your jaw. He wants to bite your lips, but there are too many impediments blocking the way.

His fingers squelch down to the last knuckle, your pussy spasming around them, soaking the fabric. He’s a pervert to such a degree that you know he’s going to leave them unwashed, and he’s going to wear and suck on them while he beats off when you’re not there until there’s no flavor left. 

For now, he’s slow, rocking them into you in a curve, his sense of touch dampened as he searches out your g-spot. The exploration makes you feel filthy, and just a little humiliated. Used. Faceless and disrespected. It’s so opposed to his usual dogmatic worship, fresh and frightening. 

He gives a little something extra, grinding the heel of his hand over your clit, telling you to use it. You do, finally feeling something physically pleasurable, even though it’s too dull and not nearly enough. 

König is segmented; you’ve known that for as long as you’ve known him. Don’t know if he did it to himself, or if it was an after-affect of all the bad shit he didn’t die from. He’d let you in on enough to know that his best days are numb neutrality and boredom intercut with adrenalized high-chasing. His worst days are lost dogs and veils of blood floating through his mouth.

He almost clicks over from one facet to another when you push against his arm, hissing through your teeth as a stitch on his glove catches a fold in you. For a microsecond, lover-König surfaces, shifting you around against his body, repositioning his fingers so you aren’t hurting too badly, and then he’s gone again.

With a rough hand, he shoves the tan boxer-briefs down your thighs, and bucks your ass off his pelvis, going to release his cock.

You push your shoulders back against his chest, plate carrier digging into your shoulderblades. “Only two fingers, aren’t you acting like a fucking prince today.”

“You’re lucky you got that much,” he snaps back, groaning when his cock springs free of his trappings, and he strokes it beneath you. Monster fucking thing it is, long enough you can see the swollen, leaking head between your legs, even as you’re still hovering. There’s no give in the skin, and the head is a needy red with arousal, completely slipped from his foreskin. “Put it in.”

You ignore his order, writhing against him, your discomfort only ramping up your arousal. It’s nightmarish how badly you actually want his cock fed into you, desperate to have anything to fill the void his fingers left in you, and, shit, it would be so much sweeter and smoother than the gloves. Hot and throbbing, his precum mixing with your slick–it’s going to be so loud. 

“It’s your dick, you figure it out,” you hiss, wrestling your shoulders up just enough to piss him off. His other arm moves up to your ribs, slamming you back down against him. 

“Nein,” he seethes, as close to your throat as he can get, and you hear him suck back spit. Wonder if you busted his lip on the way down. Trained himself too hard not to do that otherwise, because of the harelip he’s hiding under the hood. “I said put it in, Schatzi.”

His laugh is airier this time, when you cuss him and comply, thinned out with need. He shudders into you as you brush your fingers over the length–teasing bulging veins and hot, thin skin–trying to scoop him up. He squeezes you tighter, letting out a furnace-bellow breath, as you tease the head through your wet folds, stupid fly-by-night sex-trigonometry screeching through your head as you find the angle you both need to get him in. He drops his free hand on your thigh, pulling you further open, giving himself a handle to hold.

As soon as his big cockhead plugs your hole and seals a seal with the wet, you fly to grip both his wrists, nerves on high alert. For good cause, as well, because instantly, he starts fucking up into you with harsh thrusts, constricting all around you with bruising force.

The sheer mass of him is over-fucking-whelming, and white spots crackle in your vision as you pant, trying desperately to relax and accept him into your body. Usually–when he’s sweeter and taking his time with you, not punishing you for a perceived slight like he is now–he is slower, considerate, almost hesitant until you dig your spurs into his sides, demanding he cut loose. 

This time he’s forcing you to ride him, emptying and filling you in deeper and deeper strokes, forcing you to take his cock. Somehow it still feels right, just being full of him, aching with it, pussy hungrily sucking him in, wanting more and more and more.

But, god dammit, you can’t just let him get away with this. You fuck back down against him, trying to meet his rhythm with the little movement he affords your bound body, the sound of his boots grinding for purchase in the substrate, your combined dead-sprint breathing, and his balls slapping wet against your ass breaking the utter still-life quiet of the woods. 

“Insertion specialist,” you bite, throwing your head back against his shoulder to belt out your whimpering laughter, and, oh, that burns him. 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he snarls, his helpless thrusting turning focused, dragging you down in hard thrusts, hitting your cervix with every deep, powerful stroke. It knocks the wind out of you, and you’re left speechless, probably what he wanted. 

It puts you in a trance state, your eyes unfocused looking up at the canopy as he uses you. A wet, liquid-gold heat starts building pressure behind your pelvis, and a frantic harebrained thought tells you that you have to piss. It only gets worse when he drops his hand back between your legs, putting a finger on either side of your clit, his intent clear.

“Wait,” you wheeze, barely surfacing the trance, rolling your eyes wildly toward him, finding his focus is between your legs. “Wait, König, I–”

“Just fucking take it,” he cuts you off, and it’s not entirely cruel. He’s forcing an orgasm on you, maybe the thought crawled up out of the part of his heart where his empathy lives, the part he hides until his real-boy-skin-suit has fallen away in tatters. You know what’s underneath. You love him for what he is.

You squirt when you come, pouring down his cock, soaking your thighs. Your cunt tries to push him out, but he belligerently stays buried, riding it out with you, and he whimpers as you spasm and ripple around him, biting your shoulder through his mask and the gaiter beneath it. It’s a dull pressure, and you wish it was sharper.

“Oh my god,” you keen, trying to turn and hide your face, trying to draw your legs back together as wave after wave of pleasure rock your body, your stomach turning in benign shame. König praises you, “Good, good, good, good,” his words falling away into a German blur that you have a hard time translating.

“Arch your back, curl up,” he tells you in his native language, his command voice withering, getting lost as he gets closer. He’s gotten fatter in your swollen cunt, and he throbs against your walls. His balls are pulled up so tight, you can feel them against your lips on the upstroke. 

All you can do is listen, lifting off of him and curving like you’re living through an exorcism. 

Doesn’t that make him lose his goddamned mind. Moans like a shocked virgin getting his first piece of pussy, in tandem with the cry you release, sliding in at a new angle. He can’t even help himself, he’s just stupid with pleasure, chasing it. All the bite and venom he had floods out of him, and he’s just a panting, greedy, whimpering mess, holding on to you because he needs an anchor, because he needs you.

He pushes up onto the balls of his feet, leaving the tree completely, forcing you back against him in the cage of his body. Your legs slide open over his thighs, and you’re dependent on him to keep from falling face-first in the forest floor and eating shit. He keeps you up, clutching to you, fucking you with short, fast thrusts, the soaking wet sounds of his cock demanding everything your cunt can deliver obscene, carnal.

Your idiot hand grabs for his hood as it hangs over your shoulder, spilling dumb swears and nonsense, “Fuck–oh, fucking–god dammit, König, you’re. I can’t,” that he meets with simple begging, “Bitte, bitte, Schatzi, bitte, Ich brauche, bitte, Ich brauche–”

His form staggers, and he takes a knee, locking up tight, letting out a thin, high-pitched cry of shock as he cums, flooding you completely in big jets. The pressure is uncomfortable and delirious, but you try to tighten around him, hold as much as you can. 

Both of your heads ring in the immediate aftermath. You can suddenly tell that both of you reek, the scent of twelve-hours worth of stakeout body odor mixing with musk, sex, and cum. You can tell by how his mouth sounds as he pants and tries to collect himself and work through his intense but inescapable post-nut shame that he’s dehydrated. You are, too, your head pounding. And, just because you know him, and you know how you work as a team, you don’t need to look at either of set of your shaking hands to know both of your blood sugar is utterly fucked.

Slowly, he lumbers back up against the tree, his touch turning softer. You flop back against him, winching when his cock slips out of you, hanging glistening and messy between his legs. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, trying to steady his breathing. His arms come up again–not to pin you in place, but to hug and hold you. You pat the scant sliver of bare skin between his gloves and the cuff of the ghillie suit.

Only occurs to you right now how stupid you two must’ve looked. Like a monkey fucking a football. Or maybe two bushes getting battered around in a storm. You snort a weary laugh, and he shakes his head, nosing deeper. He’s asking for quiet. You give it, letting your eyes slip closed as his cum drips out of you.

A few minutes later, he stirs, kneading your sides with his fingers. Mean-König has fucked off, you can already tell. It’s not KorTac-König, either, the one that’s nasty and loud and abrasive. This is just König. The slice of him that you know the first and last name of. The one that takes you on dates, and to go grocery shopping at Lidl–who lets you kiss his harelipped mouth, who lets you moisturize and massage the gummy wads of keloid burn scars eating up the left side of his face and neck, from when he was burnt by boiling sugar as a child, when they feel tight and miserable.

For convenience, and knowing you’re both going to seek it out, you unclip your helmet straps, letting them tumble off your heads. Further, you reach back and pull the hood off over his head, dropping it over your thigh, and pull your mask down as he pulls down his gaiter.

He helps you shift enough that you’re lying on your side over him, wet, soft cock pressing into your naked thigh. He sighs when you kiss him, light, quick, over and over, never really leaving his lips. He’ll be needy for the rest of the night.

His pupils are slowly going back down to a normal size, and the blue is coming back, all puppy-eyed and wet as he presses your foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I had fun.”

“I shouldn’t have been that rough. Or mean.”

You shrug. “You know I thought it was hot.” You give him simple facts, easy to chew and swallow while his teeth are hurting from his harshness. You think he’d probably ask you to pull them so he couldn’t do something like it again in the future, but that is simply not in his nature. Fanged, or not, his moods will come and go.

His hands tremble, going to his thighs, and he digs up a zippo and a pack of cigarettes, pressing them into you. “Could you light some for us, please.”

You do, giving him another kiss before you break to try to attend your given task. He helps stabilize your hands, and you end up with lit menthols, popping one between his lips. He inhales deeply, shuddering as he relaxes a physical notch.

You heavily pet his face, traveling his bone structure, and then down his neck. Start to focus on his chest and shoulders, because it will help him down the easiest. Even though he took charge today, you still readily slot into the process of leading aftercare, truncated as it is by being in the field. Almost literally.

“Think you’ll be up for more later?” you ask, digging your fingers into the spot behind his ear that always makes him lax. “Safehouse would let us take our time.”

He makes a grumbling noise, touching your noses together. “Want to love you. Not fuck.”

“Yeah, no. I couldn’t take another fuck tonight,” you snort in agreement, and, finally, he snorts back. “We need to get moving. Sun’s going down, and we need to report.”

He gathers you up for a final, lingering, sloppy kiss before he unwinds from you, knowing that you’re right. And, besides, there’s a safehouse looming on the horizon. 

[oatberrytea]

Ok, I didn't give up on my Sunflower save and instead did make a brand new save and plopped the house down; it seems ok so far! Despite the 200+ missing items message, not too much CC was actually missing, mostly rugs and paintings so I was able to have it back to normal pretty quickly. I played 10 sim days and there were only a few very minor glitches (mostly some sims taking a little long to move onto their next action) so we are good to go!

Since I did play 10 sim days though all the sims in the household (all 10 of them and 1 horse) got to know each other and a lot of friendships and 1 enemyship were formed, and even a little bit of romance!

My original plan was to play 5 sim days and then eliminate the sim with the lowest relationship score with Ofelia but since I played 10 sim days there is actually (and sadly) 2 sims with absolutely NO romance bar with Ofelia. These 2 sims will be going home but I want to post some gameplay pictures with all of them first because I had a really fun time with them all.

I didn't control anyone except Ofelia and only to tell her to repair the sinks and toilets that each broke 300 times. Every sim was pretty good about doing household chores and keeping themselves from dying all the while forming relationships so I was pleased.

I probably won't be doing any of the more "story" styled posts until after the 2 sims leave the house because it is just too hard to pose and control that many sims. I can't even get them in to CAS since I'm using MCC to have more than 8 sims in the house right now. I haven't been able to fix missing clothing or make up because I just got defeated with the idea of moving sims out of the house, editing them, then moving them back in (I already did it once just to quickly change incorrect eye colors and missing hairs for 10 sims).

Once I'm down to 8 sims (going to have Bebita, the horse, go stay with Chance until I get down to 7 sims and then she can return hehe) I will focus more on having "story" posts and more attention paid to special interactions and "events" with Ofelia and everyone else.

Ok, this is so long, but I'm finished explaining my plans! Thank you if you read this and see you in the next post 💙

[glowingvoid]

RAIN WORLD SHIPPING MASTERLIST

Since I am the Sunflower CEO, and I have... *Checks* 96 FOLLOWERS WHAT I decided to make a rain world shipping name masterlist. You can suggest in comments or reblogs. All the names are listed from most common > least common in general, but this isn't a strict rule, some I see equally used. Unique names usually rank higher than two names smashed together, but there are some cases where the two names smashed together roll off the tongue very good

Normal names are used by one/a couple people, Italicized names are used by/decided by a section of the community, and bolded names have been decided and used for a long time/I don't see any other names for them anymore/very common

Reblogs greatly appreciated!

Survivor ships

Survivor X Spearmaster: Glowstick, Spearvivor

Survivor X Artificer: Red Velvet , Survificer

Survivor X Hunter: Candycane

Survivor X Gourmand: Marshmallow, Gourvivor

Survivor X Rivulet: Tapwater, Survulet

Survivor X Saint: Sugarcane

Survivor X Enot: Reversal

Survivor X Nightcat: Nightlight

Monk ships

Monk X Spearmaster: Sunflower, Cheesestick, Spearmonk

Monk X Artificer: Sunset, Sunnyside up, ArtiMonk

Monk X Hunter: Applejuice

Monk X Gourmand: Eggroll

Monk X Rivulet: Lemonade, Lemonshark, Bananaboat, Rivumonk

Monk X Saint: Peacemakers, Banana split, Saintmonk

Monk X Enot: Nacho cheese, Omelette

Monk X Nightcat: Eclipse, Monknight

Hunter ships

Hunter X Spearmaster: Loveletter

Hunter X Artficer: Artihunter, Cherrybomb, Murder lesbians

Hunter X Gourmand: Cherrypie, Huntmand

Hunter X Survivor: Candycane

Hunter X Monk: Applejuice

Hunter X Rivulet: Pirahna, Rivunter, Sharkbait

Hunter X Saint: Cherrybush, Strawberry, Huntersaint

Hunter X Enot: Counterstrike

Hunter X Nightcat: Bloodmoon

Gourmand ships

Gourmand X Spearmaster: Kebab, Spearmand

Gourmand X Artificer: Barbeque, Artimand

Gourmand X Hunter: Cherrypie

Gourmand X Survivor: Marshmallow, Gourvivor

Gourmand X Monk: Eggroll

Gourmand X Rivulet: Seafood, Fastfood, Titanic

Gourmand X Saint: Puffball, Fat blunt, Mossball

Gourmand X Enot: Omelette, Gourmenot

Gourmand X Nightcat: Full moon, Midnight Snack

Artificer ships

Artificer X Spearmaster: Boomstick, Death notice, Sparklers, Spearificer, explosive spear

Artificer X Artificer: Timebomb

Artificer X Hunter: Artihunter, Cherrybomb, Murder lesbians

Artificer X Gourmand: Barbeque, Artigourm

Artificer X Survivor: Red Velvet

Artificer X Monk: Sunset, Sunnyside up, ArtiMonk

Artificer X Rivulet: Bathbomb, Toasterbath

Artificer X Saint: Artisaint, Karmaflower, Deathpop

Artificer X Enot: Paprika, Pipebomb, Zip bomb, Instakill

Artificer X Nightcat: Bloodmoon

Rivulet ships

Rivulet X Spearmaster: Fishstick, Spearvulet

Rivulet X Artificer: Bathbomb, Toasterbath

Rivulet X Hunter: Pirahna, Rivunter, Sharkbait

Rivulet X Gourmand: Seafood, Fastfood, Titanic

Rivulet X Survivor: Tapwater, Survulet

Rivulet X Monk: Lemonade, Lemonshark, Bananaboat, Rivumonk

Rivulet X Saint: Seaweed, Icee, Rivusaint, Holy water

Rivulet X Enot: Speedrun, Blueberry

Rivulet X Nightcat: Starfish, Lanternfish, Abyssal zone

Spearmaster ships

Spearmaster X Artificer: Boomstick, Death notice, Sparklers, Spearificer, Explosive spear

Spearmaster X Hunter: Loveletter

Spearmaster X Gourmand: Kebab, Spearmand

Spearmaster X Survivor: Glowstick, Spearvivor

Spearmaster X Monk: Sunflower, Cheesestick, Spearmonk

Spearmaster X Rivulet: Fishstick, Spearvulet

Spearmaster X Saint: Spearmint, Thornbush

Spearmaster X Enot: Lagspike

Spearmaster X Nightcat: Inkblot

Saint ships

Saint X Spearmaster: Spearmint, Thornbush

Saint X Artificer: Artisaint, Karmaflower, Deathpop

Saint X Hunter: Cherrybush, Strawberry, Huntersaint

Saint X Gourmand: Puffball, Fat blunt, Mossball

Saint X Survivor: Sugarcane

Saint X Monk: Peacemakers, Banana split, Saintmonk

Saint X Rivulet: Seaweed, Icee, Rivusaint, Holy water

Saint X Enot: Godmode

Saint X Nightcat: Holy night

Enot ships

Enot X Spearmaster: Lagspike

Enot X Artificer: Paprika, Pipebomb, Zip bomb, Instakill

Enot X Hunter: Counterstrike

Enot X Gourmand: Omelette, Gourmenot

Enot X Survivor: Reversal

Enot X Monk: Nacho Cheese, Omelette

Enot X Rivulet: Speedrun, Blueberry

Enot X Saint: Godmode

Enot X Nightcat: Error 404

Nightcat Ships

Nightcat X Spearmaster: Inkblot

Nightcat X Artificer: Bloodmoon

Nightcat X Hunter: Bloodmoon

Nightcat X Gourmand: Full Moon, Midnight Snack

Nightcat X Survivor: Nightlight

Nightcat X Monk: Eclipse, Monknight

Nightcat X Rivulet: Starfish, Lanternfish, Abyssal zone

Nightcat X Saint: Holy Night

Nightcat X Enot: Error 404

ITERATOR TIME

Five Pebbles ships

FP X NSH: Ragequit

FP X SRS: Sunstone

FP X GCW: Hailstorm

FP X UI: Milkshake

FP X SOS: Gravel, Faulty affirmative

Looks to the Moon ships

LttM X LttM: Sunken ship

LttM X NSH: Lilypad, Lifeline

LttM X SRS: Eclipse

LttM X GCW: Atmosphere

LttM X UI: Pluto

LttM X SOS: Waning Crescent

No Significant Harassment ships

NSH X LttM: Lilypad, Lifeline

NSH X FP: Ragequit

NSH X SRS: Trafficlights

NSH X GCW: Hurricane

NSH X UI: Team Rocket

NSH X SOS: Taboo Dissonance

Seven Red Suns ships

SRS X LttM: Eclipse

SRS X NSH: Trafficlights

SRS X FP: Sunstone

SRS X GCW: Solar flare

SRS X UI: (unknown, please give name!)

SRS X SOS: Gold Pearl

Grey/Chasing Wind ships

GCW X FP: Hailstorm

GCW X LttM: Atmosphere

GCW X NSH: Hurricane

GCW X SRS: Solar Flare

GCW X UI: Morally gray, Gray area, Content warning user interface

GCW X SOS: (unknown, please give name!)

Unparalled Innocence ships

UI X FP: Milkshake

UI X LttM: Pluto

UI X SRS: (unknown, please give name!)

UI X NSH: Team Rocket

UI X GCW: Morally gray, Gray area, Content warning user interface

UI X SOS Unparalled solutions

Sliver of Straw ships

SOS X LttM: Waning Crescent

SOS X FP: Gravel, Faulty affirmative

SOS X SRS: Gold Pearl

SOS X NSH: Taboo Dissonance

SOS X GCW: (unknown, please give name!)

SOS X UI: Unparalled solutions

MISCELLANEOUS

Scavenger King X Artificer: Regicide

Scavenger King X Gourmand: Shared union

Scavenger King X Artificer X Gourmand: Caramelized onions

Scavenger King X Artificer X Hunter: Triple red, Triple threat

Sofantheil X Scavenger King's drone: Droning love

Hornet (hollow knight) X LttM: Lunar Constellation

Scavenger King X Saint: Theocracy

Judge X Saint: Judgement day

Judge X Hunter: Cured

Artificer X Mapleshade (Warrior Cats): Murder Moms, Forest Fire

POLYAMOROUS SHIPS

Threes

Artificer X Nightcat X Monk: Firefly

Spearmaster X Monk X Saint: Beetsalad

Artificer X Hunter X Rivulet: Cherry soda, Seabomb, Missile

Artificer X Hunter X Spearmaster: Killsquad

Artificer X Rivulet X Spearmaster: Ultrakill, Trident

Saint X Spearmaster X Gourmand: Incense stick

Survivor X Enot X Nightcat: Oreo Sundae, Aurora borealis, Cookies and Cream

Artificer X Rivulet X Monk: Lemonicetea

Saint X Monk X Rivulet: Angelfish

Hunter X Monk X Rivulet: Pink Lemonade

Hunter X Gourmand X Spearmaster: Comfort food, Berrypie

Spearmaster X Nightcat X Rivulet: Stargazers

Spearmaster X Monk X Rivulet: Spring flowers

Spearmaster X Artificer X Saint: Dangocats

Enot X Survivor X Rivulet: any% nmg

Enot x Spearmaster x Rivulet: Conspearacy

Hunter X Spearmaster X Rivulet: Pufferfish

Artificer X Rivulet X Saint: Deathsea

Gourmand X Saint X Hunter: Bell peppers

Artificer X Gourmand X Saint: BLT

Spearmaster X Saint X Rivulet: Spearmintstick, Icefishing

Spearmaster X Rivulet X Enot: Shatterscreen, Webfishing

Enot X Survivor X Saint: New game plus

Gourmand X Enot X Spearmaster: Blackcurrent

SOS X NSH X LttM: Green tea

FP X SRS X NSH: Triple divorce, Five triple pickle

SRS X LttM X NSH: Mossy Cobblestone, Solarsystem

Fours

Artificer X Saint X Spearmaster X Monk: Candlelight

Artificer X Hunter X Spearmaster X Rivulet: Shark-infested waters

Inv X Nightcat X Watcher X Judge: Night watchers, Forgotten Ones, Devscugs, Forgotten by the devs

Fives

Saint x Spears x Gourmand x Rivulet x Artificer: Downpour gang

More poly ships to be added!

[dog-thing-augustus]

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

welcome from my dog bed, you can call me August (it/he/canine, it/its preferred)

am a trans adult physical and psychological alterhuman

identities!

im a coyote (including coywolves and coydogs swift/red fox, crow, wolf/wolfdog, tortoise shell cat, vaporeon, lycanroc, shadow cryptid and a sunflower

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

this blog is mostly for my alterhuman identitys but ill occasionally post my art and other things.

i tag my own posts on here with #dog thing yips and ask responses with dog thing responds

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

important info

a very normal DNI if your hateful door is to the left to fuck offvill

i will block freely, and as i see fit, if you dont like my acount id advise you to block me first instead of telling me I'll ignore it.

dont DM me if i dont know you, especially if you're under 18 please tho asks are open!

if i post anything that the creator doesn't want posting or if i follow someone bad and stuff of the like, please let me know. i mean no ill will

[professionlgeeker]

I just read These Violent Delights it fucked me up so bad.

Like what do you mean I'm supposed to be normal after reading that book.

What do you mean both Paul and Julian expressed my own exact feelings at different points in the book.

Also the fact that even though it's told from a 3rd person point of view it only really delves into Paul's point of view, making it so it's hard to see the truth behind Julian. It shows accurately how easy it is to misinterpret everything someone does, even if you are very close, even though the other has a truly deep understanding of you. It also does such a good job of delving into the dangers of obsession, love so hard you would kill for someone, you would do anything. Also I think some sort of sociopathic tendencies. It's just such a good book I could hardly put it down and finished it in 3 days. Also it delivered some of the hardest quotes ever it was insane.

"It was a relief and a horror to be known so perfectly"

"All they were- all they had ever been- was a pair of sunflowers that thought the other was the sun."

"I killed them because they're beautiful, and it's the only way I can keep them."

"They wanted each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself together over a wound."

"He endured it to punish himself, and to prove to himself that he could; the only two reasons he ever chose to do anything worthwhile."

"They reminded him that his body was a thing that could be taken apart."

"He wanted to tear through Julian's skin and map the shapes of liver and lungs, to memorize the path of every artery with his fingertips. He wanted to break Julian's body open and move inside it alongside him, rib cages interlaced around a single heart."

"Everything hurts you. You just keep hating yourself, no matter how much I try to show you that you shouldnt."

"You were right. I think I likes you better before."

"It's both of us. It's always been both of us, it's mutually assured destruction, that was the entire point. And it didn't do me a damn bit of good, did it?"

"You loved it. It's the happiest I've ever seen you."

"How sick is that? I'm just as much of a monster as you are."

"I'm not- Julian, I'm not doing this to hurt you, it's not a punishment-"

"I don't want to hurt you, please don't let me."

"But he was also stronger than he should have been. He had to be."

"God you're so boring when you get your feelings hurt and decide they have to stay hurt."

"But when they were alone, he could promise himself that he and Julian were each other's birthright, and that the only unnatural thing was the fact that their blood was divided between two bodies."

"Thank you for trusting me with this."

I could go on and on, but yap session over!

Signing out this is toxicobsessiveyaoilover49!

[thetriumphantpanda]

LOST IN OUR VICES | TWO

Chapter Summary | A proper date has Marcus falling even further into his lie about who he is, but when you're as beautiful as you are, he can't find it in himself to care all that much.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Word Count | 4.7K

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus continues to go along with a lie, art gallery date (I know nothing about art so go easy on me), romantic rain kisses, a dinner date featuring food and alcohol, two idiots slowly falling in love. Explicit smut - oral sex (f&m), a smattering of exhibitionism, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, some light somno (Marcus wakes you up eating you out), absolutely filthy talk, finger sucking, cumplay and I think that covers everything!

Authors Note | This..... well, what can I say. It simply fell out of me once I got into the swing of things - I wanted to make Professor Pike filthy and I think I've managed it. I'd love to know your thoughts, so feel free to comment, reblog or send me asks about this! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Marcus is stood at the bottom of the steps to the National Gallery, easy to spot in the crowd. He’d not really left your mind for the entire week, your lips still holding the ghost of his, the feel of his palm against your ass still branded onto your skin. You’d talked almost every day, texts back and forth, the usual thing when you were getting to know someone, but when he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, and then flashing that smile at you, he’s even more gorgeous than you’d remembered.

He grasps your hand in his own and leads you up the steps and into the gallery. He picks one of the free maps up and grabs a pen from his back pocket, telling you to circle three rooms. You’ve been here before and know exactly the paintings you want to see so it’s an easy task. He does the same, citing that if you wander aimlessly, you’ll be here all day, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he’s got dinner reservations you have to keep.

Marcus picks Sunflowers by Van Gogh first, the bright yellow flowers bring you joy whenever you see them, especially so in these dark, winter months when life is so scarce. You insist on seeing The Fighting Temeraire because it reminds you of your grandfather, the reason you love art so much.

“I remember coming here with him when I was very small,” You explain, stood in front of the painting, “We stood here for so long, and I just remember thinking I wanted to learn more about it all.”

The rest of the afternoon slips by like that, showing each other paintings until you’ve run out. You’re stood in front of Marcus’ last pick, The Garden of Love. Somewhere along the afternoon, he’s taken hold of your hand, fingers entwined with yours.

“You can see the brush strokes,” He muses, pulling you in front of him, your back dangerously close to his front, his free hand pointing over your shoulder, “Lean forward, you can see them, I promise.”

And he’s right, his back pressed to yours to push you forward so you can see them. His mouth right by your ear as he talks you through what you can see, the stray brush hairs and the way the grass has been painted to give it movement. There are goosebumps flowing across your skin, before he remembers when you are and moves away from you slightly, letting your heartbeat return to normal.

There’s a moment where he checks his watch, then he takes hold of your hand and starts dragging you from the gallery - paintings blurring as you have to run a little to keep up with the pace. When you reach the front entrance, you hear it before you see it, the downpour of rain, fat droplets hitting the ground, forming puddles. You curse the fact you hadn’t properly checked the weather before leaving.

You look to Marcus, who holds up a finger, drops your hand slightly, then steps over to the side where a burly security guard nods his head toward Marcus and takes a step out of the way. There’s a small umbrella stand behind him and you watch as Marcus reaches over and plucks one of the umbrellas from it.

“Thanks, Mike, see you next week buddy.”

Mike tips his hat to Marcus, and then at you when he clutches your hand in his once more, adding a wink and a knowing smirk towards you like he knows exactly what's going to happen for the rest of the day.

You step into the downpour, letting Marcus hover the umbrella over the two of you. He stops, lets you take in the surroundings - Trafalgar Square bathed in darkness and soft light from the streetlamp’s. You crane your neck to look up at Nelson’s column.

“I remember coming here when I was younger, with one of my friends, and trying to take a picture of me touching the top of it from down there,” You point your finger down towards Whitehall, you know exactly where you stood all those years ago, “Hold on,” You say, fishing your phone out of your pocket, opening up the camera roll and scrolling as far back as you can, to find the exact photo you’re talking about, holding it in front of him, Marcus laughs, because the tip of your finger is nowhere near the top of the column, “Not my best attempt, I must say.”

Pocketing your phone, you take a few steps to the left, starting off to your dinner reservation, when you feel the warmth of Marcus’ palm slip around your wrist, turning you around so you’re stood in front of him, toe-to-toe, your face tilted up at him.

He brings his free hand, the one not holding the umbrella, up to your cheek, and you feel his thumb brush over the skin there, ever-so gently, before he’s leaning down, lips across yours in a soft press. You step forward, moving close enough to him to wrap your arms around his neck - droplets of water from the edge of the umbrella dripping onto his jacket as he kisses you.

You can hear the rushing of the traffic around you, splashing through pools of water, and the chatter of people around you, locals and tourists alike, but none of it matters. Not when there’s that low pool of butterflies churning in your stomach, and certainly not when he pulls away, tip of his nose pressed to yours as you bite your lip a little, none of it matters except him.

“So, what does next week have in store for you?” Marcus asks, sipping on his glass of wine.

“Outside of trying to hit my weekly word count, I'm going to a public lecture that professor Pike is giving at UCL on Thursday.”

Marcus is mid-sip, choking slightly on it as he swallows, covering his mouth with his napkin to try and keep whatever this is under control.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concern dripping from your voice.

“Yeah,” He says, holding up a hand, coughing a little to clear his throat, “Sorry, swallowed wrong,” There’s another pause as he sips from his water, “That sounds interesting though, what is he lecturing on?”

“He’s lecturing on counterfeit art,” You explain, knife cutting through your steak, “He used to work for the FBI and I think the lecture supplements the release of his new book.”

“I had no idea he was an ex-agent,” Marcus shrugs, “Sounds interesting though, you’ll have to give me the rundown next time we meet.”

“You could always come with me?” You offer.

He smiles and lets out a little chuckle, “What time is it?”

“It starts at 6:30.”

You watch as he chews on his food, thinking for a moment, “I might be able to make it, I’ll have to let you know how teaching goes that day, but it definitely sounds interesting,” You pick up your wine to sip at it, “But if I can’t make it, we can certainly do something next weekend, okay?”

He politely insists on going back to your place once the meal is over. Apparently not expecting this was to go so well, he hadn’t tidied and didn’t want you to think bad of him when your eyes glanced over the mess. It’s endearing to you, and you’re only more than welcome to have him over. The bed needs christening anyway.

Marcus holds you hand this time on the walk from the station. It’s dark and cold but thankfully the rain has stopped. He pulls you away from the edge of the pavement when a car threatens to splash you as it passes you, then insists that you walk on the inside so you don’t get wet. It’s those small things that make you smile, that make your tummy flutter, makes you realise he knows how to treat someone.

It makes you think about the last person who had been in his position - never getting this far, mainly due to the fact that on the second date he insisted that you made him feel stupid when you spoke about your research. You wanted to tell him that was because he was, but you held your tongue, let him pay for dinner and then told him you didn’t see things working out.

When you let the two of you into your apartment, you flick on some of the lamps instead of the big light and watch as he walks to the long windows that look out onto the garden. You’re a few floors up, looking down on the garden from a height and you can see a few people milling around, illuminated in the dark by the orange glow of the lounge lights from the ground floor.

“Nice place.” Marcus murmurs, hands in his pockets as he looks out of the window.

“Yeah, I can’t deny it,” You smile, “Do you want a drink?”

He turns to face you, “Not really.” He speaks with a smirk.

He holds out a hand, palm upright to the ceiling. You wander over to him and let your own hand slip into this, relishing the feeling of his hand closing over yours, gently dragging you towards him. The way his other arm slips around the small of your back is effortless, as is the way he pulls your entire body to his, mouth slanting over yours in a soft kiss.

It’s over too quickly for your liking, but then he’s bringing both is his hands up to your face, clutching your cheeks in his palms, “You look beautiful in this light.” He murmurs, looking at you, warm. orange glow from your lamps illuminating you perfectly.

“So do you.” You almost whisper, letting your hands grip at the edges of his jacket, smiling as he lets you push it off his body.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Looking up at him, bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt, you undo the first two of his buttons, “What do you think I want?”

“I wouldn’t want to assume,” He speaks back, the zip of your jacket caught between his thumb and pointer finger, slowly dragging it down, inch-by-inch, “I want to hear it.”

You bring your hand up to cover his then, slowly pushing it down until your jacket it fully unzipped, “I want you to take my clothes off,” You say with a flutter of your eyelashes, “And then I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight.”

Your hand lets go of his, letting his shove your jacket off your shoulders to fall to the floor. That hand sinks down his chest until your palm runs across the front of his jeans, bulge evident as you press more firmly, biting your lip as he gasps.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth.” He groans, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Marcus.” You wink, slowly falling to your knees in front of him.

He tangles a hand in the hair at the back of your neck and pulls gently, making you look up at him, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Marcus doesn’t protest again, just looks down at you, sitting pretty on your knees, and raises his eyebrows as if to tell you that if you want it, you can take it. Your fingers work his belt open, pull it through the loops of his trousers, before it’s added to the pile of discarded clothes so far. You work the button open, and slowly drag his zipper down, before you hook your fingers into the waistband, dragging his trousers and his underwear down to his knees in one go.

It takes all of your willpower to ignore the gentle bob of his cock right in front of your face. He’s big, probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, pumping your fist slowly, as you bring your lip to every inch of skin around his cock, pressing hot, wet open-mouth kisses all along the small swell of his belly, until you can hear his laboured breathing and his hand is tightly fisted in your hair.

You pull back, finally dragging your hand all the way up the length of his cock, letting your thumb trace gently over the head, swiping the pearly bead of precum that sits there, swirling it over the head. Then, you lean forward, eyes strained to keep them locked on his own, as you press a single kiss to the weeping head of his cock, tongue darting out just a little to taste him.

“Jesus Christ,” You can hear Marcus mutter from above you, “Darling you’ve got to put me out of my misery.”

Looking into his pleading eyes, those brown orbs glossed over with wet, practically begging you to stop teasing him are too much, so you do indeed put him out of his misery. Opening your mouth, letting the head of his cock rest there just a moment, letting your tongue tease the underside of him just a little, before you wrap your lips around him and hollow out your cheeks, letting your mouth slide down his length as much as possible until he hits the back of your throat, the length you cannot fit into your mouth still has your fist working it.

His back is to the window, the streetlights and the glow from the apartment building across the garden is bathing him in an angelic light. He leans back, letting his back rest against the pristine glass as you move your mouth up and down his cock, letting him hit the back of your throat, the free hand that isn’t pumping at the rest of his length coming up to cup his balls, gently massaging them.

You can feel his hands scoop your hair up, gather it at the back of your head so he can look down and see your face as his cock disappears into the wet cavern of your mouth. It’s sloppy, there’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, and when you pull off him to catch your breath, running your fist along his length, it’s soaked - line of saliva connecting him to your mouth.

“You getting it nice and wet, baby?” He asks, voice strained, “Getting it nice and wet so it slips into your pussy nice and easy?”

You’re about to put your mouth back on him when he brings one of his hands to clutch at your chin, shaking his head. He pulls you up to your feet, turns himself around so you’re the one in front of the window. His hands on your waist move you so you’re facing outward, looking at the darkness of the garden below.

Marcus reaches around your body, chin resting on your shoulder so he can see what he’s doing as he undoes each of the buttons of your shirt. He pulls it off your shoulders, discards it to be forgotten on the floor.

He trails his hands up the exposed skin of your ribcage, letting his palms rest over the cups of your bra. He squeezes gently once, then again with a tighter grip, then he’s trailing his fingers around your back to the clasp, where he manages to undo it without any trouble, letting that fall to the ground too.

You’re acutely aware that if anyone was to look up from the ground below, they would be able to see exactly what was going on, but when his warm hands come up to cup the weight of your tits in his palms, fingers rolling your nipples into stiff peaks, you can’t find it in yourself to care, you only tip your head back onto his shoulder and sigh in pleasure as his hot mouth starts sucking at the skin of your neck.

One of his hands wanders, skimming down the skin of your belly, past the waistband of your skirt and tights, until his hand is cupping your sex, hot through the cotton of your underwear. His fingers trail down, right to where your aching cunt is leaking for him, wet patch clearly evident on the material.

“Fuck me,” He groans, pushing himself into you, the hardness of his cock grinding against the material covering your ass, “You’re fucking soaked for me baby.”

You can feel him drag his hand back up, just slightly, until it’s slipping under the material this time. Finally his hand is right where you want it. You can feel his fingers slipping between your folds, inching down until they’re mixing in the pool of slick, dragging upwards until his finger finds your clit. He presses gently, circling slowly but it still makes your knees buckle. Marcus steadies you with one hand around your waist.

“Careful, baby,” He whispers into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe, “Don’t want you to fall.”

You’d have a smart retort if his fingers hadn’t rendered you silent. You close your eyes, let yourself focus on those precise circles of his fingers, moving your hips in time to his movements. You bring an arm up, wrap it around his neck and turn your face, feeling his lips find your own, mouth open and tongue melding with yours.

Marcus lets his fingers move from your clit and you let out a whine of protest, until you feel him slip two of them straight into your cunt, as far as he can fit them, curling them gently against that spot inside you that has you falling forward, palms against the glass of the window.

You feel his spare hand grip at the hem of your skirt, shoving it up to bunch at your lower back, that hand then falling to grip your ass through the dark material of your tights. His fingers are tight against your skin, gripping you, spreading you, as his fingers continue to work inside you. He pressed just perfectly into one spot, making you cry out. You can feel the tightening in your core, feel your pussy flutter around his fingers.

“Oh baby,” He coos, “Are you going to come?” You nod your head, “Tell me,” He demands, hand moving up to tear your tights down and over your ass, “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Marcus,” You whine, moving your hips down in time to the upwards movements of his fingers into your cunt, the slick there causing a lewd squelch each time he does it, “Fuck, please, it feels so good.”

“Please?” He chuckles, dragging your body back up from it’s slouched position, “Please what?”

“Make me come.”

And so he does. He curls his fingers, sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and works your body perfectly, until you’re whining and wiggling against him. He drags his fingers from your pussy, drags them back up to your clit, circles it maybe three or four times and then he’s flinging you over the edge, tight coil snapping in your tummy, pleasure blooming everywhere as those fingers work you through every second of your climax.

You’re boneless now, pussy throbbing, sweaty skin sticking to the skin he’s got on show, as he moves you gently towards your bed. He lies you down on your back, strips you of everything else you’re still wearing, and then steps back, taking off each item of his clothing that he still has on. You watch him unwrap himself in front of you, your hand drifting between your legs, spread for him and on show. It doesn’t matter that you’re sensitive, you let your fingers dance lightly across your clit, spreading yourself open for him.

“Like a work of fucking art, baby. ” He murmurs, knees sinking into the bed as he settles between your thighs.

He swats your hand away from your cunt, leans forward to kiss you as he gently slips two of his fingers back inside your pussy. He pulls back, brings his slicked fingers to his mouth and makes a show of sucking them clean, just inches from your face.

“Taste so good baby,” He speaks, letting those two fingers find your aching hole, pressing inside once more, and you think he’s going to do it again, but this time, when he drags those fingers from you, he grips your chin, making your mouth fall ope, “Taste yourself.” He orders, watching you as your tongue slips out, inviting his fingers in.

You make just as much of a show as he did, sucking his two fingers into your mouth, tongue dipping between them to suck them clean. When he’s satisfied, he kisses you again, lets his tongue mix with yours, not just his taste now, but the taste of your cunt on his tongue too - musky but sweet.

“I want to fuck you so bad, baby.” He murmurs into your ear, settling himself into a position where you can feel his cock dragging through your wet folds.

“Please,” You beg, “I want you so badly.”

“Do you have a condom?” He asks, nose nuzzling at the delicate skin behind your ear.

“I do,” You say, “But I take the pill and I’m clean.”

He pushes back, body resting over yours, chest pressed against your tits, “You want me to fuck you bare?”

“I want you to fuck me bare, Marcus,” You whisper, hands cupping his face, “I want you to fill me up.”

“You’re something else.” He speaks softly, one of his hands reaching between you to guide his cock down, head nudging at your aching cunt.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just presses himself into you, feeding you every inch of his cock as slowly as he can manage. With every inch, your head tips back, until he’s fully inside of you, tip of his cock kissing at your cervix, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re tight as a fucking fist baby girl.”

“So big,” Is all you manage to choke out as he starts moving, slowly dragging his cock out of you to push back in, “I’m so full.”

“That’s right baby,” He agrees, pushing himself up onto his palms that are planted on either side of your face, “So full of my cock, right?”

This position allows him a little more freedom to move his hips, which he does, dragging out of you and then pushing his cock back into you with a little more force and it makes you fucking sing. He feels so good, cock brushing at all the right spots inside you as he speeds up a little. You look down between your bodies, watching his length spear into your pussy, watching it disappear inside you with every thrust.

“I won’t…” Marcus sighs, “I’m not gonna last long baby.”

“I don’t care,” You sigh, “I wanna feel you.”

Marcus picks a rhythm - rough thrusts of his hips that have his cock hitting at the depths of you, his head dipping down to take one of your nipples into his mouth - worrying at it with his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue. You’re so close, you can feel another orgasm right there on the cusp, so close that you can feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. When you close them, you feel a trail of tear drip down and settle in pools in your ears.

“No need to cry baby,” Marcus soothes, letting his mouth lick at the trails of tears from your eyes, “I got you, I can feel you, come for me again baby, it’s okay.”

He shifts positions slightly, dragging your legs up to rest on his shoulders, then he presses forward, folding you practically in half and then picks up his pace.

You’ve never felt like this, no-one has ever rendered you into such a wet, squealing mess before. Your nails are digging into his arms, leaving half-moon patterns there. Every punch of his cock inside you is pleasure mixed with a pang of pain. You can’t breathe, but you don’t care, because with each stroke of his cock you’re falling further and further, until you close your eyes, tip your head back and see starts as your second orgasm tears through you. You hear yourself scream for him, mouth dropped open as he loses whatever control he had before. It’s hard and it’s fast, and it’s all fucking worth it when he drops your legs and goes still.

Your name is falling from his lips like a chant, like a prayer at church as you feel his cock throb inside you, white hot cum painting every inch of the inside of you. He manages to keep his weight from collapsing onto you, pushing himself back on his knees instead, letting his cock slip from your tight heat.

You watch him as he holds your legs spread, watching his cum seep out of you. It’s performative and entirely unnecessary, but you dip a hand between your legs, use two of your fingers to spread yourself open and push lightly, letting him watch his cum pool at your hole, dripping down between the cheeks of your ass. You feel one of his fingers follow the trail, scooping it back up to press back inside your pussy, then, that fingers is slipped into your mouth.

“How do we taste baby?”

“Pretty good.”

In the moments that follow, once you’ve used the bathroom, the two of you settle under your sheets. Marcus on his back with you draped over his chest. He’s drawing shapes on your back, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drift in and out of sleep.

When you wake, it’s still dark, the moon is high in the sky, and his face his buried between your thighs, leisurely eating at your cunt like he’s got all the time in the world. Your let your fingers tangle in his brown curls as he slowly works you up, tongue lapping at your clit softly until you’re writhing and twisting in the sheets as he makes you come for the third time that night.

He kisses you as he settles back down next to you. He turns you over so he’s pressed against your back, holds on of your legs up so he can push his cock into you again. You’re sore and spend and every muscle in your body aches, but he’s soft this time, rocking his hips into you from behind, slowly fucking you with his arms wrapped around you, both of you looking out into the darkness beyond the windows. He comes inside you for the second time that night, but neither of you make time to move. His cock slotted perfectly inside you, his cum leaking out slowly around him and down your thighs as you both fall asleep again.

In the morning, the storm has cleared and the low winter light wakes you up. The bed is empty, but still warm when you move onto your back, eyes adjusting to the light. Marcus is at the foot of the bed, doing up the last buttons on his shirt.

“I have to go.” He says simply, but with a tone that says he’d rather do nothing more than crawl back into bed with you.

“That’s okay,” You say, pushing yourself up, holding up the sheets to cover yourself, “Will you come back later?”

“Do you want me to come back later?” He asks, sitting on the side of the bed to slip his shoes on.

You shift slightly, moving so you can tuck a particularly unruly curl behind his ear, “I do.”

He turns, smiles at you, then kisses you softly, “Then yes, I’ll come back later.”

[midnightsun-if]

This might be a unique ask, and I hope I word it correctly to make sense. What are the ROs safe words?

Now this doesn't have to mean for sexual activities, although maybe it is the same word regardless of the situation.

What I man is if the MC/RO were somewhere public and out of nowhere the RO wanted to be somewhere private, to escape from the crowd where it's just them and MC.

What would the safe word be to let MC know that?

Koda: He’d probably use a specific nickname/pet-name that he probably doesn’t normally use — either due to it just being rare or simply because he doesn’t use it out in public — with said name being something along the lines of sunflower or sunshine.

Scarlett: Honestly? Scarlett probably wouldn’t verbalize it as her actions alone would let you know what she wanted: her grip tightening on your hip, a hand brushing along your spine, or, if her hand was there, it’d flex on your thigh. If that didn’t work? I could see her leaning close, lips ghosting across your ear, as she purrs what she’d like to do that can’t be done in the view of others (doesn’t have to mean sexual… she could just be referring to cuddling). If you’d like a word, however, it would probably be her typical term of endearment my heart but said in a very specific tone of voice.

Cyrus/Cyra: You’d probably notice them getting increasingly awkward if that were the case, but they’d probably start talking about royal duties that needed to be dealt with for House Aurelia — something that very few would question — before asking you if you’d like to help them. It’s not necessarily a word, per se, but it’d be a dead giveaway for what they want; as Cy very rarely asks you if you’d like to help them with their duties as they’d never wish to impose.

Quinn: Hmmm…. Quinn is a bit of a tricky one as I can just see them casually asking if you’d like to leave in the next few minutes. But if they truly wished to leave quickly? They’d probably use something like moonlight — as they usually just refer to you as their moon — or just a random nickname that they’ve never used before.

Caden: They wouldn’t know what to do. Would be completely floundering on what to do — to the point that it’d probably have to be you to “safe word” that you’d like to leave in order to save them from themselves; as Caden doesn’t like the thought of being disrespectful to anyone, even if they’d be better off for it.

Sloane: …. They’d just leave the situation — ensuring that you actually wished to go with them — before simply wrapping their arm around you and leaving.

Blake: They’d have a lot of fun with it — having a cycle of varying words, some more outrageous than others, that were used to bring a smile to your lips — but would probably use something like cheeseburgers or, the holy grail of all food, muffins as their actual word.

Reginald/Regina: They’d probably somehow slip one of their hobbies into the conversation to divert to whatever word they wished to use — like somehow beginning to talk about Star Wars and mentioned Ewoks (which would be their telltale signal ) or they’d bring up Lord of the Rings and mention how cool they think Smaug is — just things of that nature… That’s so obviously R, but wouldn’t be perceived as rude or dismissive.

[thewritetofreespeech]

I'll Bring the Sun to You

Astarion x Reader

words: 650

rating: G

pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Vampire!Tav

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

The crisp air brushed past your shoulder and through your hair. The smell of salt from the harbor clinging to it as you looked out over the water and its calm seas. You breathe in the air once more, deciding to head home. The sun would be up soon.

You hop down from your post and start the slow, sad walk back to the palace. Feeling guilty for feeling sad. Feeling sad for feeling guilty.

After Astarion turned you, he wasted little time before giving you his final gift and making you a true vampire. By the time of the party with all your friends, it was already done. And, since it was Astarion who turned you, the Ascended one, you had been granted unique abilities far beyond any ‘normal’ true vampire. As promised you were stronger, swifter, sharper. But one promise had not come true, and that was your freedom from the sun.

Though it was true you weren’t like other vampires or spawn, who would burn in an instant the sun touched them, you also weren’t as impervious as Astarion, who could walk about unharmed and immune. It was a shock to both of you. A set back. But there was nothing you could do.

You didn’t blame Astarion for turning you or overpromising his commitment in making you a true vampire. There had never been a vampire like Astarion was now before. And he had only been this way for a short time, still new in his own abilities. He had been cocky. Overconfident in what his new infallible power could provide him, and you. You tried not to dwell on it. What was done was done and could not be undone. But…still…

You missed the sun. You missed the warmth on your skin, the lighting, the colors. It hurt your heart to think of how long Astarion had to go on like that. 200 years of dark. No wonder he was so cranky sometimes.

Arriving back at the palace, you remove your cloak and decide to head straight to bed. Being just awake seemed like a chore at the moment.

Opening the door to your bedroom door, you were suddenly aghast when you found the room in a sea of yellow. Sunflowers. As far as the eye could see. They covered the room. Seeming to grow right out of the floorboards, the walls, the curtains. Everywhere.

“Hello my treasure,” You turn to finally notice Astarion in the room to your left. Dressed in one of his white outfits. Seeming very pleased with himself. “Do you like it?”

“Where did you get all these?” You ask. To which he just chuckled.

“I have my ways, darling.” He told you. “I thought this would cheer you up.”

It had. The amount of effort he’d put into this was overwhelming, along with just the sheer quantity of flowers.

Astarion came over and took your hand in his. “Consider it a place holder, until we can get you the real thing.”

“Astarion….” He cut you off with a wave of his hand. Refusing to hear it when you tried to tell him to be practical. This was your new reality, and both of you had to accept it.

“I won’t accept it.” Astarion stated. “Even if it takes us a century, a millennia, we will find a way for you to walk in the sun. Even if we have to recreate the ritual. I'm sure if we actually put those 7,000 spawn to good use rather than letting them rot like the fool Cazador was, we'll have you right as rain by summer. We have nothing but time now, after all, and each other.”

You sigh but let him have his moment. Let him have his dream of the two of you walking in the sun together again. It was a dream you shared. Only one of you was more realistic in realizing it was just a dream.

But, maybe there was a way for you to walk in the sun again. Astarion was right. You had nothing but time and each other now. That and sunflowers.

[blueflipflops]

I saw the post you made about punk-flower and the patch sharing jacket and I just wanted to ask if you have anything specific that you would like to expand on as I plan to write a fic for it!

I’ve been in a writing slump for months now and you’re post just inspired me again finally so I just wanted to see if there were any more headcannons you had for this idea

This is the post I’m referencing btw!

Ignore the terrible crop job lol

Oooooh thats so cool! Sure!! Go for it!!

There's really not much for me to add other than ✨️vibes✨️and like a general direction/idea. But i do have a few so here's what i got so far:

I imagine that Miles was the first one to ask bring up the patched jackets (i don't really know what they're called) thing for like just a conversation starter at first but ended up getting geniunely interested as Hobie rants explains the whole thing. From its history where its originally a practical way of mending clothes but now means more to the punk culture, to how to stitch it in, picking the right jacket for it, etc.

He would explain each patch in his vest, what they represent, and how he got it. (Or Miles would ask abt it idk)

I like to hc hobie as decent enough at sewing to make shody patches with his own design. Its not good good but he's proud of them enough to show it off

Miles couldn't get his mind off Hobie's rant and some of the shoddy patches that looks so rough and like a snap away from leaving Hobie's vest and he can't get his mind off the fact that Hobie made some of his own patches which made him curious enough to make his own designs.

At first it was just drawings and doodles but then he got curious enough to try embriodery stuff. How hard could it be, right? He was wrong. Embroidery is very hard. (This coming from me who does embroidery for fun) But the learning process was fun enough that he continued on.

Rio absolutely caught him more than once, brings out her sewing kit, and gives him tips and advices like different kinds of stitches and how to fix holes on clothes, happy to have something they can bond over. (Would love to have more Rio content. She deserves the world.)

With his newly aqcuired sewing skills, he offers to fix Hobie's patch that was loose.

Then he showed Hobie the very first patch he made which was a very simple sunflower (or something else if you want) and

Hobie was very normal about that and trying to be casual like: "Can I keep it?" And it flusters Miles like "Uh, yeah, sure. I guess. I mean if you want it—"

Hobie then decided that Miles is his new go-to patch repair guy just so he can spend more time with him

Miles uses a really old jacket from either his dad or his uncle Aaron or heck even from his mom or maybe even from his grandparents. (your pick) Because he knows that you just dont do that on a new jacket! That goes against its whole purpose!!

When he shows Hobie the jacket he intends to patch up, Hobie got so exited that he rips off a patch from his vest and gifts it to Miles to "start him with" or something.

They gift each other patches that reminds them of the other

And yeah. That's it. Thats all I've got haha. Link me up on the fic when (? Or after? Srry idk grammar haha) you get to write it. Really very excited to read how you write my current favorite blorbos!! 💕

[fl3shm4id3n]

Hiiii

Can we get a so'lek x human? No smut, just bit of fluff?

ᵢₙ ₐ ₘᵢₗₗᵢₒₙ Yₑₐᵣₛ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱᴏ'ʟᴇᴋ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: mentions of humans being assholes, alien x human relationship, kisses, mainly fluff.

Masterlist

So'lek has hated humans with a passion ever since they've step foot in Pandora. They did many horrible things, from destroying the forest to even causing clans to disappear completely. He hated them, he wished that they all would die or just leave Pandora completely. But, he knew that not all humans were the same. Specially the ones who have decided to help him and the na'vi get rid of the RDA. He may not right out say it, but he appreciates it deeply in a way. One thing that he didn't expect was to fall in love. How could anyone fall in love in a time like this? Everyday animals and other people die. It is a risky thing to do since the na'vi and humans are still at war. But even with that reasoning, he still ended up falling for someone. That someone was you.

You were a scientist, who had an avatar body of her own just like Alma. The thing that caught So'lek's attention was how you were willing to learn the ways of the na'vi. You didn't have to, but you did anyways. Half of the time, you'd be in your avatar body, specially while with him. At first he somewhat preferred it that way, but he also wished to see you in as you are. A human. He may not admit it, but he likes seen you in your actual human form more. He doesn't really understand how or why, he just prefers it that way. But he also understands why you decide to be in your avatar more. So it could be easier for you to learn his ways and also so that you could be able to move around comfortably around the forest.

After a while, of the both of you not getting the hints, you and So'lek began a relationship. You and So'lek wanted to keep your relationship on the down low. It's because he doesn't really like bringing attention to himself or you. Besides, what goes on in his private life, is not of anyone's concern. He doesn't mind being affectionate around others, but he saves the other stuff when you and him are alone. When it's just you and him, he is very affectionate. As if, he's a totally different person around you. Normally he doesn't act this way around others, but when it comes to you, he does. This was a form of trust between the both of you.

That day, you had decided to let your avatar body rest along with your human body. You've been using it so much that you somewhat had bunt yourself out a bit, you needed a break. At the moment, you were in your small sleeping area, while everyone else was doing there thing. You were simply laying in your hammock, with your eyes closed. As a way to relax your mind a bit, along with your back. It was sore from laying in the link pod for many hours of the day. You then felt something or someone over shadow above you. Making you open your eyes to see who it was.

It was none other than So'lek. He was also holding a flower. It was pretty big for your human hands to hold, but you loved the gesture. "Hello yawne, I've brought you this." He said, with a small smile. You sat up from your hammock and took the huge flower. It was almost similar to a sunflower, except it was even bigger and more different. "It's pretty, thank you." You said with a smile, then you watched as he leaned in and kissed you right on the cheek. His lips took up all of your cheek, making you slightly giggle. "So'lek, we'll be seen." You simply said, as he continued to kiss your cheek. He stopped, as if he was thinking about something, then went right back to kissing your cheek. "Let them, I do not wish to keep our relationship hidden anymore." He simply said.

That surprised you a bit, So'lek, no longer minded being seen? What changed? You didn't mind though. You then felt how So'lek moved down and kissed you right on the jawline, under your ear. Making you giggle a bit more. "So'lek! That tickles!" You giggled even more. But that didn't stop him, he just kept on kissing you in that spot making you laugh even more. "I didn't think you'd be ticklish there." He teased, as he jokingly bit the tip of your ear, causing you to laugh even louder. Making your laugh slightly echo around the area.