#yeah there's no fancy features but we didn't need them

[nova-dracomon]

Nothing lasts forever

It's with a heavy heart we announce the passing of our beloved wacom CTE-630 graphire 3 drawing tablet. Some may say there are more fish in the sea, better tablets to be owned, but you served us faithfully for 20 years. You were with us from middle school through college, moving and years of our weird nerdy bullshit art.

Rest easy now, your peace is well deserved!

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

[w2soneshots]

Race cars -W2S

words: 0.9k+

warnings: pregnancy.

summary: you, your baby daddy and the rest of the group spend a day at the F1 - British Grand Prix.

notes: Hello loves! This was requested on my wattpad🫶🏼. I don’t know much about f1 so that part of this fic is pretty vague but I hope you enjoy!!😚💕

A few weeks ago the boys were invited to watch the an f1 race and were told that they could each bring a plus one. Ethan chose Faith, Simon chose Talia, Josh chose Freya, Vik chose Ellie, JJ chose Callux, Tobi chose Calfreezy and Harry chose me.

The past few months of mine and Harry's life have been pretty crazy due to the fact I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn't planned but I've been with Harry for almost six years so it was a happy surprise.

Today is the day of the race. I woke up wrapped in my boyfriend's arms, one of his hands gently resting on my growing baby bump. I slid out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to begin getting ready.

I took a quick shower, styled my hair, applied some makeup then picked out a cute but comfortable outfit. Once I was finished Harry was already up and in the kitchen making us both breakfast.

"Good morning my love." He smiled wildly at me as I sat down on one of the stools at our breakfast bar. "Morning. You exited for today?" I asked cheerly. "Yeah! Can't wait. The group chat has been blowing up since last night, everyone's really excited." He replied, plating up our food.

After eating Harry got ready into a relatively fancy outfit (well, what Harry considers fancy) and soon we were in a taxi on our way to Silverstone.

When we arrived I text the girls and they told me that they were already inside. I opened the back door of the taxi to see Harry already waiting there. He put out his hand and I graciously took it. He helped me to stand up then we headed towards the entrance.

"Hi!" I let go of Harry's hand when I spotted the girls. We each shared a hug and they were quick to comment on my growing stomach. "You look so cute." "I can't believe you're actually gonna have a baby!" I smiled. "I know. Oh and guess what!" "What?" Faith tilted her head to the side. "I felt the baby kick last night." I replied. All three of them stared at me for a second before bright smiles spread across their faces.

The night before I was sat in bed when I felt a flutter in my stomach. You couldn't see or feel it from the outside but the doctor had told me what to look out for so I knew it was the baby. When I told Harry a cute smile graced his features.

Once I said hello to the boys we all got settled in our seats, ready to watch the race. When the green flag was waved everyone suddenly became very focused. I sat between Harry and Talia, my hand gently resting on my small bump.

After almost an hour I got up to use the bathroom. "You alright love?" Harry asked. "Mhm," I hummed. "Just going to the toilet. I'll be back in a minute." I smiled lightly. He nodded then returned his attention back to the large outdoor tv screen that showed the parts of the track we couldn't see.

I made my way down the stairs and I walked towards the toilets. Just as I got there someone stopped me. "Excuse me?" I turned around. A teenage boy stood in front of me. "Are you Wroetoshaw's girlfriend?" He asked. "Uh- yes I am." I replied. "Could I please get a pic?" He was polite so I agreed. "Oh and congratulations by the way." He glanced at my stomach. I smiled. "Thank you." He nodded with a smile then he walked away happily.

When I returned to my seat I told Harry about the interaction. "I forgot that people don't know about the baby." He replied. "Well they'll probably know after today." I said quietly, carful not to annoy anyone around us trying to watch the race. "That's not a bad thing though, we didn't want it to be a big deal, right?" "Yeah, I'm a little sad that it won't be our little secret anymore though."

Since I'm not really on social media we hadn't even thought about telling the fans since it wasn't like I needed to hide it in pictures or anything. But when they find out they find out we're not that bothered about it.

Once the race ended we all headed to a nearby restaurant to get some lunch. We ordered our food then began having separate conversations. Me and the girls chatted away about what we'd all been up to recently while the boys discussed an upcoming sidemen video.

Later that night as me and Harry lay next to each other in bed he turned his phone around so I could see it. "Look." The screen showed an instagram post with a picture of me and Harry sat at the f1 race, my hand perched on my obvious baby bump. The caption read "congratulations are in order for w2s and his girlfriend y/n! The couple were seen earlier today with the rest of the sidemen at the f1 British Grand Prix and y/n seems to be pregnant! Nothing has been confirmed by them as of yet but fans are extremely excited about the news."

I smiled. "Well, I guess now everyone knows." Harry put the phone down, shuffling closer to me and pulling me into his chest. "I'm glad. It's been hard keeping the biggest thing in my life a secret. The amount of times they've had to cut stuff out of the podcast because I accidentally let something slip." He replied. I chuckled then let out a content sigh as we both slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

[purple-goo-writes]

Punk Hazard

Now to put this into a story.

Part 2 Here

It was a normal day in Central City. The Flashes were fighting the latest team-up between Killer Frost and Captain Cold. So of course it was snowing in July now and traffic was stalled due to ìce attacks making the roads impassable. But the heroes had the villains on the ropes. Then a fresh wave of ice and cold came out of nowhere, covering everything and everyone in frost. Dropping the temperature further as the crunching of boots on ice drew everyone's attention. Dressed in distressed black leather pants with frosted chains, a black crop top with a deep v-neck lined with blue, and plenty of ice chains to rattle as he walked was a teen near Impulse's age with pale blue skin, elfin features, and long black hair streaked with white and blue. Blue lips pulled into a deadly smirk as the air started to thrum with vibrations and the beat of crackling ice, "Time to drop the beat down."

Unfortunately for the heroes, they were not familiar with this villain's move set or powers. And it seemed they had made a mistake in assuming that his powers were similar to the other two ice villains. Only to be thrown for a loop when they missed a beat and started to freeze. And the music was only getting faster and with it came faster ice attacks.

Later, Barry groaned as his team worked to get him, Wally, and Bart out of their ice prisons. The three of them were shivering and turning blue from how cold their core temps had dropped. Looked like they would be hitting the showers on max heat once thawed out.

"What in the world was that?" Wally groaned once he was finally freed, while Barry rubbed his hands together to get feeling back, "I don't know but we better get investigating to figure out how to fight this new guy."

"Yeah, I don't fancy being a Flash-cicle just because I can't keep the beat," Wally grumbled, "Dick is going to make me play sooo much Just Dance once he hears about our new villain."

"You noticed it too?" Bart shivered, taking his mind away from the fact that the new villain was around his age and rather interesting to look at. Something he hadn't noticed before on others. he shook his head, no he needed to focus, "We had to follow the beat of the music or we started to freeze up. It was pretty easy to do until he started to ramp up the difficulty. Also...He has to follow the beat as well."

Barry groaned softly as he wrapped the blanket handed to him around his shoulders, "Wally is right, we are going to have to start ramping up our Just Dance scores...Hal is going to laugh himself sick."

All three groaned realizing their respective teams were going to be insufferable.

---

"You are pretty badass, kid," Killer Frost smirked once they got away from the heroes, "What even are your powers?" "A cross between music manipulation and Ice control," He shrugged, "I've been calling it Cryo Symphony." "Got a name?" Captain Cold grunted looking over the little punk, though little probably only applied to age given the kid was nearly his height and in that awkward stage between Twink and Tank.

"I was thinking Punk Frost-" "Yeah no, I got Frost already covered and I'm not looking for a side kick," Killer Frost hissed at him, making the kid raise his hands in surrender, "Okay, how about Punk Hazard? After all, I am a punk and my powers are hazardous to other's health if they can't keep the beat." "Sounds good kid, now you got a place to stay?" Snart asked, tone gruff but concerned. He never liked seeing kids turn to the villain life, didn't really like kiddie heroes but at least they had more support then kiddie villains did.

"Ummm not really?" Danny shrugged, "Probably the bridge I've been sleeping under."

Even Frost looked concerned at that, causing Snart to sigh, "Yeah no, I got a safe house you can crash at. Come on, you look like you haven't eaten in days." Danny blinked in confusion, "Huh?" Making Frost snicker, "Sorry, kid looks like you've been adopted."

[the-kr8tor]

Hello can you please do a jealous Hobie x reader

Where they were out at a party while at the party reader just happened to see one of her male best friends and they're like in a back room smoking together and Hobbit just happens to walk in to see readers male best friend blowing smoke in her mouth 😊🥰

You don't have to put in the smoking pot if you don't want to 😊😋

Hello hun! Thank you for your request! I changed some things, hope you don't mind!

Some drinking and smoking, a lot of cursing. 1.2k

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You feel lightheaded, the booming music pounds into your skull, coupled with the bright strobe lights, and people screaming over the loud music trying to hear each other, you feel your social battery draining with every clink of glass.

Partying seemed like a good time for the first two hours of being there, but as the night continues on, you just want to go to bed, and wash the smell of cheap beer off of you.

The only good thing about this is spending time with Hobie.

You wince when another screech of a guitar riff booms out of the speakers, you lean towards Hobie's ear, an excuse falling on your lips.

"I'm gonna go to the loo for a bit"

"Sure, love. I'll watch your drink" Hobie moves your pint closer to his while he continues talking to his friend.

You slide off the booth, fixing your shirt. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to avoid crashing into them, the wc sign looks like a beacon, beckoning you for a much needed reprieve.

Suddenly you hear your name getting called, or rather screamed at you. You do a 180 trying to find who called you.

"Here! On your right!"

You're not sure if that was for you, still you looked to your right. Lo and behold you see your old high school mate, peeking behind the doors to the bar's balcony.

"David! Is that you?!" You squint trying to find his distinguishable features.

"Yeah! Get your arse over here!" He opens the door fully for you.

Scrambling towards the door, you try to push past dancers. Finally entering the balcony, your best friend hugs you tightly, slightly lifting you off the floor. You giggle at your reunion.

"Holy shit, duck! Long time no see!" He pulls away, taking a good look at you. "I haven't seen you since graduation! You look fucking fit!"

"Shut it, you arse!" you playfully slap his arm.

"Come, it's quieter over there" he leads you towards the railings, bringing out a fancy case of smokes. "You want a ciggie?" He offers you one. You take it.

You whistle at the fancy engravings on the cigarette case.

"Wow, Daddy dearest is still paying your bills? You daddy's boy" you tease him as he helps you light your cigarette with a matching lighter to the fancy case. "Fucking hell, even the lighter!"

"Shut up! It was a gift!" He teasingly shoves you. "Do you remember when we used to sneak around chain smoking in our attic?"

"Yeah, we almost burned your dad's postcard collection" you laugh at the memory.

"So how're you?"

You two get to talking, exchanging stories, remembering fond memories, until you get to talking about your love life.

"Ooh, little duckie has a man" he jokingly blows smoke on your face.

Meanwhile Hobie leans against the doorway, watching the interaction. He got worried when you didn't come back to the table. Basically searching the entire bar, he finally found you cozying up to an unknown man.

See Hobie isn't usually a jealous person, whenever someone flirts with you, while he's sidled up close to you, egging them on.

"Can I have that drink too?"

"Oh shit, look at that black card, you're loaded bruv"

"She has two left feet, I'm available though"

"Mate, you like the Ramones too? What's your favourite song?"

"Oof, nice shoes bruv"

He does this because he trusts you fully, at the end of the day, he's the one who goes home with you. Of course whenever someone gets a little too touchy, or invades your personal space, he jumps to being protective. If they don't let up, he's more than ready to square up.

When he sees the blond blowing smoke on your face as you giggle, it's the same smile you give him, he sees the man lightly push your shoulder. Something snaps at him, his ears ring, he didn't even catch what the man said.

Hobie stomps towards you, not noticing him, you continue on smiling and talking to your friend.

Feeling a familiar arm snaking around your waist, you look towards Hobie, His eyes glare angrily at your friend, a dark aura emanates from him.

Hobie's knuckles shake as he clenches it tighter, he's ready to strike.

Noticing his emotion, you quickly try to douse his anger, but he opens his mouth before you.

"Who the fuck are you?" He holds on to your waist tighter "and why the fuck are you flirting with her?"

Some nosy people start looking towards your way. You try to speak up, but again David beats you to it.

"I'm guessing this is your man? I'm David a –"

"Fuck off, David" he barks out "stay the fuck away" he angrily points at your friend.

David gestures in surrender "alright, mate, calm down, she's all yours" Hobie already turned his back away. David winks at you, thank god, Hobie didn't catch that.

Hobie guides you by your hand, you try to explain but he couldn't hear you through the blaring music.

He brings you outside, Hobie heads towards an alley, you follow closely behind, trying to get his attention.

"Hobie! Will you stop?"

Hobie kicks an abandoned box, sending it flying across the alley.

"Shit, I'm sorry" he breathes heavily, his left eye twitches. "Fuck, you okay?" Hobie finally turns towards you.

"Yeah, are you okay? I've never seen you so angry" you cross the gap between you, you tentatively try to hold him. "Just breathe" your hands hover over his arms.

He takes a deep breath, slowly calming down. Hobie pinches the space between his eyes.

"Better?" You rub his arms lovingly.

"Yeah" he avoids your eyes, his eyebrows still knit together in anger.

You can finally explain everything "Hey, David's a close friend of mine since highschool, trust me you don't have to worry about him" you hug his torso.

"I'm not jealous"

"Sure, of course not" you cup his jaw, he finally looks you in the eye.

"I'm not bloody jealous" he huffs, looping his fingers through the belt loop of your jeans, bringing you closer to him.

"I know" you placate him "but hypothetically if you were, you don't have to worry, you're it for me, babe"

You move your hands over his neck, guiding him down towards your face. "Whether it's an old friend, or some stranger, know that they'll never replace you in my life, I love you Hobie Brown, never forget that"

Hobie looks into your eyes, searching for an ounce of dishonesty, he found none, except for love and affection towards him.

He drops his forehead on yours, savoring all the love that oozes out of you. You close your eyes as you rub circles over his neck, trying to ease the tension folded into his muscles.

"Love you too. let's go home, yeah?" He reluctantly pulls away, holding your gaze.

You nod enthusiastically, "does that love extend to apologizing to David?" You ask, testing the waters.

Hobie tilts his head, with a slight glare, non verbally saying 'why would I do that?'

Understanding what he means, you continue "I invited him to lunch tomorrow" you smile, gauging his reaction.

Hobie drops his head on your shoulder with a slight thump, he groans, realizing he needs to make peace with your friend.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hope you liked it angel! Thank you again for requesting, and for being patient ❤️❤️❤️

[evilfloralfoolery]

Damn Lilies - Part 1

It's first date time between Grimm and Indigo. There's rain. And lilies. And lots of witty banter.

Oh, and Grimm is a total allergic bastard.

____________________________________

“That was some real red carpet shit, Indy.” Grimm reaches across the table, lays a hand atop Indigo's own. “But you don't have to impress me. I'm a cheap date.”

Indigo chuckles at Grimm's reference to the limousine . “Well, if one has the access to such things, why not make use of it?” 

Grimm smirks. “I’ll take you for a ride in my armored Suburban next time. Give ya a little Secret Service style.” 

The hand has taken to a lazy caress, something that Indigo normally would not tolerate, but the “kitchen incident” has blurred the lines between them.

“Hey.” Grimm's booted foot nudges his shoe. “Thanks again for the shoulder thing. Damn thing doesn't even hurt now.”

Indigo does not mention that sharing healing ability is a sure sign that their bond is, in fact, beginning to take hold, consummated or not.

The sky chooses the moment they step foot onto the sidewalk to relinquish its hold upon the apparent torrential downpour contained within the gray clouds and Indigo shields his forehead with one hand in an effort to save his vision from being obscured by water.

An arm loops through his own, securing him against the other man's side and Indigo finds himself escorted from the street before he can object.  The two of them huddle beneath the nearest canopy, the edges of Indigo's hair curling to wisps of ringlets with the intrusion of moisture.

"Wretched weather," Indigo says.  "One never knows if an umbrella is needed."

"Hmn, tell me about it."  Grimm has a short conversation with the hostess before turning back to Indigo. “Forty-five minute wait. Damn.” He flashes a smile to Indigo that is a pleasant, charming contrast to his chiseled features.  "Wanna do something a little less fancy? We can sit in the courtyard.  It’s covered and shit."

Despite his rather damp countenance, Indigo finds himself returning the smile before he can manage to suppress it.  "Yes, well.  I suppose that would do."  He glances up at the rumbling sky and frowns just a touch.  "Perhaps if we wait a moment or two, this mess will relent enough to grant us a drier passage."  

"It’s like fifty feet, Indy."  Grimm stiffens for a moment, expression collapsing into a vulnerable sort of desperation.  He ducks into the crook of his elbow and turns away from Indigo just enough to muffle a sudden “Hh’CHISSH!”  into the crook of his elbow. "Sorry."  He passes the back of his hand beneath his nose with a sniffle.  "Don't know what it is about rain and my damn sinuses."

"Well," Indigo says after offering him a mildly stated blessing.  “It is one of your more charming qualities." 

"Ha ha, you fucker."  Grimm offers him a crooked smile before glancing back towards the sidewalk.  "Come on.  Promise you won’t mess up your hair." 

Indigo's gaze is calm.  "Is that so?  Well."  He nods towards the slackening rain.  "I suppose this is as good a time as any, then.  Shall we make a run for it?"

Grimm arches an eyebrow.  "A run?  Indy, it’s seriously right there."

Such self-assured banter.  How strangely endearing it seems at this point.  Perhaps the barometric pressure has compressed his own common sense. 

Grimm steps aside to hold the gate open and Indigo suppresses a smile.  Casual chivalry is a most befitting quality, especially with this man, who seems trained in courtly mannerisms, yet rarely chooses to display it.  A fine treat, indeed. 

"Damn," Grimm says, one hand upon his now-growling stomach.  "Didn't realize I was that fucking hungry."  He pauses just before their appointed table, features slackening, and flinches into another “Hh’CHISSSHu!”

"Bless you," Indigo says.  "Might I suggest a bit of tea instead of wine?  You most certainly sound as if you could use it."

"Yeah?"  Grimm's stare travels the length of his body in a flash of appraisal and Indigo resists the urge to bite his bottom lip. “I'm not that wet."

Well, no.  Grimm is not soaked to the bone by any means, but the material of his dress shirt clinging to his chest in a manner that borders on obscene.  His every curve is highlighted by the pull of fabric, as if it has been painted on rather than merely worn.

Great gods. 

Grimm's attention is currently fixated not upon Indigo himself, but rather upon the rather ridiculous bouquet of lilies shoved into the crystal vase atop the outside table.  He would have to push the thing aside simply so that he could properly see Grimm's face.

Ridiculous decorative faux pas at best.

Grimm brushes a finger over the velvety yellow petal. “Hmmn, you allergic to these?”

“To lilies? No, actually.” Indigo ruffles the back of his hair in an unconscious gesture with just a hint of a laugh. “Difficult to believe, I know.”

“That's weird,” Grimm says. His lips curve into a nefarious smile. “Because I am.”

Indigo blinks. Sits up straighter. “What. . . did you say?”

“Yeah.” Grimm toys with the tip of one petal. “Hella allergic.”

“Grimm.” Indigo levels his stare at his deviously smirking companion. “If this is your idea of some manner of joke-”

“Hmn.” Grimm sits back in his chair, casually sips his water as if this is not a highly concerning development. “Guess you'll just have to see for yourself.”

Indigo certainly isn’t laughing, especially when Grimm brushes a finger beneath his eye and sniffles.

“Somethin’ wrong, Indy?” Grimm leans back in his chair, a pilfered petal between his fingers.

“Grimm, I swear to all of the gods . . .”  

“All of them?”  Grimm arches an eyebrow.  “Sounds excessive.” 

Indigo adjusts his glasses as he leans forward to touch a finger to Grimm’s glass of water, the liquid sizzling to vapor before frosting over to ice, the glass itself cracking down the center.  “You have yet to see excessive.” 

“All I’m seein’ is dramatic,” Grimm says. 

But he flicks Indigo’s fork off the table with a decisive ping just the same.

Indigo narrows his eyes.  “Did you just . . .”

“Yeah, I did.”  Grimm lays an arm on the table and leans closer.  “I ain’t afraid to flick your knife, either.”  

One silver eyebrow arches high.  “In public?”

Grimm stops salaciously groping the nearest lily for a moment.  “I’ll stroke your stamen, too.” 

Indigo’s tone and stare deadpan. “Floral fondling is not my particular predilection.” 

Grimm doesn’t just laugh.  He throws his head back and guffaws without concern for any attention such a thing might draw.  An admirable quality, if Indigo is being honest with himself.

That and his absurd ability to sneeze at the most inopportune of times.  Mid-laugh, perhaps.

"Again, bless you," Indigo says.  He props an arm on the table and glances at the man over the rims of his glasses.  "Should I spare you the sentiment or are you just going to keep at it?"

Grimm flashes him a crooked smile that is both disarming and cocky.  "Thanks. I think."  He cants his head to one side and strokes the fine mesh of hair that edges his chin.  "Anything else, smartass?"

"Not at the moment," Indigo says.

The smirk curves into a sharper angle as the man leans back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head.  "You're a real piece of work." 

Indigo allows his gaze to linger on the swell of Grimm's bicep through his shirt and follows the line of muscle down his torso.

Speak for yourself, he thinks.

"That's quite an impressive piece of art," Indigo says, nodding towards Grimm's exposed forearm.  "How long does something of that nature take?"

"The tatt?"  Grimm glances at his arm with a shrug.  "Forty hours maybe?  Not all at once, of course."  He pilfers Indigo's water without asking and takes a sip, winking at Indigo over the rim of the glass.  "Tattoo artist can't hold a machine that long."  

"Of course," Indigo says.  "I can imagine piercing that thick skin of yours takes more patience than one man can muster in a single session."

A hand lights upon his own and Indigo startles, flicking his gaze to where Grimm's meaty palm covers the tops his fingers.

"I enjoy this, you know," Grimm says.  "Us giving each other shit."  Golden brown eyes fix him with a pointed stare.  "I enjoy you. "  

Color threatens to rise in Indigo's fair skin, but he manages to quell the sensation with a soft clearing of his throat as he moves a finger beneath Grimm's hand in subtle reciprocation.

"I enjoy this as well," Indigo says.  "It's been quite some time since I--"  He pauses, doing his best to affect a bland stare as Grimm withdraws his hand and flinches into another sneeze with far less warning than before.  "Oh, bloody hell, Grimm."

"Heh, sorry."  Grimm rubs at his nose with a sniff.  "Damn lilies."

Indeed.

Their conversation turns to filling in the gaps of the past week, Indigo sharing the details of his trials with “book editing” and Grimm explaining the significance of the tattoo.

"So, knives, huh.” Grimm takes a bite of his steak and chews thoughtfully.  “How long you train for something like that?"

"Not long," Indigo says with a laugh.  "Just my entire life.” 

“Same,” Grimm says.  “But if you ask my dad, I was born for shooting shit.”

Indigo sips his water out of the far too fancy glass in which it had been delivered.  “And what of your hand-to-hand skills?”

"I’ve got ‘em."  One booted foot nudges his ankle.  "We should spar sometime." 

Indigo sets his glass down with a smirk.  "You think so?  I would so hate to embarrass you, Grimm." 

The other man snorts.  "Asshole."

Indigo chuckles.

They eat in silence for a moment, neither feeling the need to fill the void with conversation. Strange how Indigo had never noticed his level of comfort with Grimm until this moment.

“I gotta finish this damn tatt,” Grimm says at last.  “Just having linework here bothers me.” 

He tugs at the fabric for better access to his shoulder, runs his palm over his collarbone.  "See that shit? Looks weird just sitting there."

Indigo swallows.  Gods, the gesture is positively obscene somehow, even more so when yet another button pops open, which Grimm does not seem to notice.

Grimm’s lips curve into that self-satisfied smirk.  “See somethin’ you like, Indy?”

Indigo frowns. His concern, however, is not with Grimm’s teasing.  It is when that saucy grin dissolves into a hitching excuse for breath that he ceases to find humor in the situation. 

Grimms gaze becomes an unfocused, long-distance stare, his lips parting, eyes drifting to half-mast.

Oh. Oh gods.

"Uh'CHIISH!" A staggering inhalation. A helpless gasp.  "Uh--CHISSHu! . . . Hhuh'CHISSH!"

Indigo swallows past the lump of incredulity in his throat and manages the beginnings of a polite "bless you" before Grimm interrupts the sentiment with another sneeze.  And another.  

"Huh--CHISSH'u! . . . Hh'CHIISSH-uh! . . . Hhhuh . . !"  The corner of Grimm's lip curls into a snarl of desperation and he switches from ducking into the crook of his elbow to steepling both hands over his mouth and nose with a shuddering flinch of shoulders.  "Uh'CHISSHu! . . .Hkg'CHISSSH'u! . . . Huh . . ! Hhh . . !  -uhCHISSCH'iiuh!" 

A handkerchief.  He is definitely in dire need of one.  Indigo pats the front of his pants with a frown.  Where had he put the blasted----

At last, he remembers that he has the ability to actually conjure one and does so with a fumbling of fingers, nearly dropping it before he manages to hand it over to his still struggling companion.

"H-here," he says.  Stammers.  

For fuck's sake, Indigo.

"Thanks, Idii--iiih . . .!"  Grimm buries his nose in the half-folded cloth with a sharp, shuddering inhalation.  

"Hkgg'CHIISSSHu!"  He leaves the fabric clamped there for a moment before straightening with liquid sniffle and a roll of his shoulders.  "Well, damn."

Indigo blinks.  Well, isn't that just the understatement of the century.

"Bless you, Grimm!" he says after far too many heartbeats of hesitation.  "Are you quite finished, then?"

"Mmmm, dunno."  Grimm wipes at his nose with a sniffle.  "Hard to tell . . hheh . . .! Huuh . . .!"  He squints into the distance before the helpless slackening of his features reforms into a tired semblance of normality.  "Hnn, fuck."  

A trickle of sweat edges its way down the back of Indigo’s neck and he straightens into a rigid posture. 

The bastard.  The absolute bastard.  

This was more than purposeful, that’s what it was.  This was planned.  Surely it must be.  

But when Grimm wipes at a trail of allergic tears, the frantic turbulence of Indigo's hormones comes to an abrupt halt and his demeanor softens from cordial to concerned in a mere instant.

"Perhaps that is enough of your nonsense," he says.  He adjusts his glasses and tilts his head, eying Grimm over the rims.  "Despite your antics, you sound as if you are truly suffering."  

"I might be."  Grimm shrugs a shoulder.  "Doesn't matter, though." His expression switches to coy expectation.  “Not if it gets you off.”   

“Honestly–”

"I said what I said.”

"Hmn," Indigo says.  "Well, far be it for me to tell you what to do, Grimm--"

"But you will anyway," Grimm finishes with a smirk.  

“You shall regret your allergic mischief later,” Indigo assures him.

“Yeah?”  Grimm runs a booted foot up his trouser leg like a wandering, lascivious hand.  “Wanna borrow my handcuffs?”  

It is now Indigo’s turn to smile in a manner that is both chilling and sinful, a pale hint of blue fire encircling his own wrist.  “I prefer other methods.” 

Grimm runs a hand through his hair and smirks. “Kinky.”

[star-quill]

Can we get a little sprinkle of quill smut…where he has playlists for just about anything and some songs are in multiple playlist so the “cooking dinner” playlist has some songs that feature in the sex playlist and it causes an ~association~ 👀👀👀

oh you absolutely know this man will sneak in those songs.

at first it was just a joke, to see if you noticed. you would just roll your eyes and skip the song, only for him to feign disappointment, making you smile and shake your head, continuing with the cooking.

after a while, you just got used to the songs being on there, softly humming along while you were chopping up vegetables. then peter would join you, his hands on your waist, swaying you gently to the song. he wasn't pressed right against you, however, he knew better when you had a sharp knife in your hand. he would just wait until u were done, and then he would come closer, kissing your shoulder and up the side of ur neck.

"peter.. can this wait until after dinner?"

"absolutely not.. u look good enough to eat, baby.. much more than dinner.."

"u saying my dinner is shit?"

"no.. just saying i kinda wanna just.."

then his hand was down between your legs, under your sundress and you felt him smirk against your shoulder.

"ur just as well we weren't expecting company.."

"i'd still not have any on even if we were.."

"fuck.."

"you gonna have me as the appetiser?"

"damn right i will.."

he hadn't even finished speaking before he turned you round, dropped to a crouching position and swung one of ur legs over his shoulder. you grabbed the hem of your dress, watching as he buried his face between your legs, nose bumping against your clit while his tongue was absolutely devouring you. you were worried dinner was going to burn but at this rate, you won't last long and it'll only be halfway done when he's finished down there. even more so now that he's stuffed you with two of his fingers, only being egged on by the soft little whimpers and whines you're producing. his grunts and groans in response are vibrating against you, adding a whole new sensation to what he's already giving you.

"peter i'm close.. please, oh.. please.."

he pulled away only for a second to speak.

"beg more, baby.. wanna hear you say you need it so badly, yeah?"

"i do.. please.. need you to let me come, please.."

"c'mon, honey.. more.."

"please.. peter.. can i come? please.. oh god.. please.."

"good girl.. go, you can let go, baby.."

then your legs started shaking, one of his hands rested on your waist, pushing you into the countertop to hold you up. it was all too much and your hands flew to his shoulders, holding them for strength. after a few seconds, he stood up, removing his fingers from inside you and slipping them in your mouth. once you had gotten everything off them, he pulled them out, smirking as he did so.

"see? i told you that you tasted sweet.."

he walked you to the dining table, letting you sit down while he finished making dinner. you gazed at him while he was cooking, his back muscles flexing as he stirred the sauce. he was straight back into domestic husband mode as if he didn't just give you an absolutely earth-shattering orgasm from just his mouth and fingers alone. he served up dinner and gave you a kiss before he sat down.

"sorry i was the only one to have an appetiser, sweetheart.."

"s'alright.. don't worry about it, i'll return the favour later on."

he just smirked as he pushed a forkful of food into his mouth, smirking as he chewed and stared at you.

"yeah? am i dessert now?"

"yeah.. fancied some ice cream, y'know.. minus the ice part.."

he almost choked on his mouthful, the pair of you just laughing at ur attempt at a crude joke. how the both of you can go from being totally normal and domestic, to having the most raw, breathtaking sex ever, to then making dumb jokes is beyond you. but you wouldn't have it any other way with him. he was everything to you and spending (almost) every moment with him was just perfect to you.

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : blanched?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear steamed scrambled eggs,

I'm so sorry it took a while to get back to you. I landed and immediately started working full-time again. Ugh, the modeling life does not let you down with bookings. My manager told me something about how I'd be busier from now on since I got to walk in Paris this year. My resume is popping... did I use that right. I can't keep up with all this young people lingo and I'm not even old.

I doubt your face card is that bad if what you brought up in our early letters is true. If nearly all of your friends wanted you to get into modeling, then surely there's a reason. It's not like your friends sound like typical models either, so I can only assume that they're actually higher-ranking models or whatever.

Oh. Yes, after this walk, it seems Ada's officially reached supermodel status. She's about to get so much busier... I miss when she had time to attend her local fan events. Well, maybe I'll be like that one day? Who knows. I'm not even big enough for fan events yet.

I'm also starting to have suspicions of who you are. So, if you end up with a stalker... sorry (for reasons this is a joke) but I do have suspicions. I bumped into that roommate of yours while in France. I could put two and two together, but I'd much rather just bump into you again. Surely you won't dodge me when I ask for your number again?

Which brings me to my next point. I did bring you to Paris with me. I had nearly all of our letters boxed up in my suitcase, and it drove my manager mad. My agent didn't care as much since he was seeing his girlfriend, but my manager was going through it. "You don't need a box that big." he said. Skill issue. That's why he's still single (I am too). Oh, oops. My internet persona seems to be seeping into the way I write to you now. Shame.

Which brings me back to the point. No gift this time? Seems I need to step up my game with you a bit. Mm... should get some help from a friend. Ah, right. Favorite flowers?

See you soon (threat) Christmas

It's not hard to put two and two together. If Ada had pointed out the letter with that kind of look in her eye, then there was definitely something she knew. Considering everything about her, it's not hard to deduce that he's been writing to you. You. Literally. From day one, the universe sent you right to him and he didn't even put two and two together until Ada had made it somewhat obvious. It's a little silly of him considering that he did graduate top of his class in the police academy with perfect grades for everything, but it's fine. He's just rusty, or something.

Well, he can't ask her for your address since you probably live with her, but he can most definitely ask someone else who happens to know the two of you rather well.

"Sancho!" Luis laughs. "Fancy seeing you here, eh?"

"Yeah." He hums, closing his eyes as the makeup artist touches him up. "I had a favor to ask of you, Luis."

"Oh, of me?"

"I'd like to send flowers to the model I walked with last time. Surely you can help me out?"

"By doxing them? I don't think so, sancho." Luis shakes his head. "Told 'em you had a crush on them, but they told me there was no way back then. Seems like I was right, hm?"

"Yes."

"Aye... shame. I can't help much. But, I can extend an invite to a certain something." He sends an image to Leon's phone.

"It's like... August right now."

Luis shrugs. "Invites went out a week ago. You'll be our guest of honor. I'll send you further details as we get closer. You can meet them there, sancho."

Leon doesn't have a particularly good feeling about it, but anything to scare you shitless, he assumes.

"Why are you so willing to help?"

"You're a nice man." Luis waves. "You owe me, though."

"Didn't realize we were keeping count."

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[beachbabe000]

Sweet Wine // Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Nick convinced Chris to go out on a blind date. He agrees to get his brother off of his back, not wanting to go. But the date ended up being something he didn't expect.

As promised:

Chris Sturniolo Oneshot --------------------------------------------

“Come on Chris just trust me.” Staring at Chris from the other end of the counter, Nick really tried to convince him. “Nick you know I don’t go out with people. I don’t want anything to do with that stuff.” Chris gives an attitude back. He didn’t want a relationship, and he wasn’t planning on having one for a long time.

“Chris she’s really nice and you guys would get along so well. Just give it a shot.” He’s basically begging at this point. What was so great about this chick that Nick is begging HIM to go out with her. Chris lets out a loud grunt and slams his palms down on the counter. “Fine Nick. I’ll do it. Will you shut up now.” Nick laughed, “Yes. Here this is her number. Just text her and ask her on a date.” He sends her number to Chris’s phone. Chris looks from the phone back to him.

“And how do you suggest I do that? Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve asked someone out?” Staring at his brother in annoyance that this is even happening. “Give me your phone I’ll do it for you.” Nick practically snatched his phone out of his hand. After typing something out for a few seconds he hands Chris his phone back. “Now just wait.”

Probably 10 minutes later Chris is watching tv and his phone vibrates. Shit. Forgot about that. He picks up the phone and looks down at the new message from y/n. “Would love to. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He felt a hint of anxiety run down his chest. He has no idea what he’s doing or how to do it. He’s low key freaking the fuck out right now. He doesn’t even know what she looks like. Nick just set him up on a blind date and he was just now seeing that.

The next day Chris is getting dressed to go out. They planned on meeting at some fancy restaurant. He settled for some slacks and a button up black shirt. Finished with black dress shoes. He shook his head. This is so fucking purposeless. He had no desire to date anyone and knew this night would end with that. Him still not dating anyone. He just wanted to get it over with and have Nick off his back.

“Hi, Chris?” He heard a voice behind him as he stepped out of the car. Matt had drove him, of course. Matt chuckled and playfully punched Chris’s arm. “Go gettem tiger.” He chuckled at Chris’s death stare. “Shut up Matt.” Rolling his eyes he got out of the car and shut the door taking one last look at his brother’s shit eating grin.

“Hi. y/n? Nice to meet ya.” He looked up at the building in front of them and gave her a small smile. “Shall we?” He extended his hand out to her. As much as he didn’t want to be doing this, he wasn’t going to be a dick to her.

She took his hand gently. Her hands were so soft. He glanced up at her face and took in her features. Her hair was long and chocolate brown. It was curly and wavy and really complimented her. Her eyes were a hazel green and her mouth, damn her mouth. He couldn’t stop staring at her pouty lips. He imagined what they’d feel like kissing down his chest.

“Chris?” pulled out of his imagination he shook his head to clear his dirty mind. “Yeah sorry, lets go.” His hand guiding her towards the host stand. “I have a reservation under Sturniolo.” He still hadn’t let her hand go and didn’t realize until they got to their table and sat down. He then saw what she was wearing. A white short sleeved blouse, what looked to be silk, and tight black jeans. Her shoes were also black with heels. She accessorized with silver hoops which complimented her skin tone perfectly.

She glances over the menu in front of her. His menu was also in front of his eyes, but he couldn’t help stealing small glimpses of her across the table. Taking in her mannerisms and the cute face she made while reading. He already knew what he was getting but needed something in front of him, so he wasn’t sitting there just staring at her awkwardly like a creep. She really was beautiful.

Once she put down her menu, he did the same. “You ready?” He asks her. She smiled and nodded. “Great, what do you want?” He leaned his arms on the table and moved forward a little bit to hear her better. He hadn’t stopped smiling the entire time he’s been in her presence. “I’m going to get the shrimp fettucine. And a glass of red wine.” He nodded in response. Once the waiter came around, he gave them his and her orders.

They sat there and had a couple conversations trying to get to know each other a bit while waiting for the food. When Chris would talk, she’d give him her full attention. They made intense eye contact the whole night which was awesome because he really loved eye contact.

“So where are you from?” He asked her. Their food was just put on the table, and she had already dug in. After swallowing her bite, “Here actually, born and raised.” He watched as she took a sip of her wine. The way her lips wrapped around the edge of the glass. The small dribble that spilled out of her mouth which she quickly caught before it could stain her white shirt. His mind started racing with so many thoughts of her. Mainly physical ones. He’d never been so starstruck and turned on like this.

He then realized she was talking to him, “I’m sorry what?” He asked, pulling his eyes away from her lips. She giggled at him. “You okay? You seem really spaced out.” He smiled at her and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking about?” Taking the last bite of her food. “Just. Well, you’re gorgeous.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his water. It was the only moment he couldn’t keep eye contact. Not used to talking to women like this. It’s not really something he did, in a romantic way. She chuckled at how he was responding to his own words. “Thank you, you aren’t so bad yourself.” Her voice became a bit sultry in that sentence. He looked up at her as she took the last sip of her wine. He was losing it now. He felt a bulge forming in his pants and he was doing everything to make it do away.

She noticed his discomfort as he signed the bill. “What do you want to do now?” She asked, giving him a small look up and down. Not small enough for him to not notice though. This caught his attention, and he locked eyes with her again. “You want to come over?” The words fell out of his mouth so quickly, it’s like he wasn’t even in control. “Sure.” She smiled, her chin resting on her hand while looking into his eyes. “Sweet. Let me call our chauffeur.” He chuckled as he picked up his phone dialing Matt’s number.

They stood outside laughing with each other when Matt pulled up. Chris opened the passenger door for her, but she insisted on sitting in the back with him. Matt is just soaking up this entire sight in front of him like it’s a movie. He’s grinning so wide his mouth almost doesn’t fit his face anymore. He kind of knew this would happen. As much as Chris has avoided anything relationship wise for so long, there’s no way he could keep it up.

Now on the drive back Matt and y/n were talking, having friendly back-to-back conversation. Chris still couldn’t stop staring at her. He wasn’t even listening to their conversation anymore. After a few minutes of their chatting, he felt her hand land on his knee. The sudden contact made him jump a little. She gave him a quick look and smile before turning back to Matt. His breathing became sharper as she gave his knee a squeeze. Is, is she making the first move? His eyes widen as his pants start to become a little tighter. No. Not now.

She knew what she was doing, and she was doing it on purpose. Her hand moved up farther on his leg and turned more into his inner thigh. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to relax, but his pants just became tighter. There was no stopping it now. He was fully hard at this point. His head was leaned back against the headrest and his eyes were closed. The discomfort was getting to him, and they would be home in the next 5 minutes. Meaning Matt was going to see him in the state once they get out of the car.

Pulled away from his thoughts by her hand going even higher now, he stopped breathing entirely. Her fingers grazed against his bulge. He sucked his lips between his teeth. His arm found its way to hang on the seat behind her. His other on the arm rest attached to the door with his fist covering his mouth. He had no idea how to react right now, and she was soaking up every ounce of this moment. She was enjoying it, and it made him even more enthralled with her.

“Chris you alright? You look like you’re in pain.” Matt calls back to him. He looks up at him through the rearview mirror, lips still between his teeth and just nods with his eyes shut and goes back to his previous position. “Alright. Weirdo.” Matt goes back to talking to y/n pulling her attention from grinning at her effect on Chris.

He does his best, which was difficult, to not let out any sound as her hand fully lands on his pulsating bulge. He puts his head down in his hand whispering “Fuck” to himself. “Dude, are you sure you’re okay?” Fully irritated at this point Chris looks back up, “Yes Matt. I’m fine. Just drive.” The tension building up in Chris from the whole situation was getting to him. “Okay, calm down. We’re almost there.” Matt places his attention back on the road, the car was completely silent now. Chris takes this opportunity to look over at y/n. She looks at him as well, locking eyes. His eyes full of lust and his lips sucked into his teeth, he looks her up and down and shakes his head. Whispering to her when his eyes find hers again, “You’re really something you know that. You’re in fucking trouble when we get there.” She giggled at his words.

Her hand never leaving that spot on his pants, she continues to rub it until they park the car. It was absolute torture for him. As soon as the car stopped, he flung his door open and reached for her hand to pull her out of the car. He quickly placed her in front of him before Matt got out and saw the state he was in. His hands found her waist and he kept her close as to hide his horniness from his brother. She could feel him rub against her from behind and she was proud of her handy work, literal handy work.

Once the door opened Chris grabbed her hand and led her towards his bedroom. “Thanks for the ride, Matt.” She smiled as she was pulled through the room. “No problem. You two play nice.” He chuckled. He wasn’t dumb. He knew what was going on and it was hilarious to him.

Once in his room Chris pretty much slammed the door behind him. He grabbed her waist and pushed her against his door. She started laughing. “You think this is funny?” he asked slightly annoyed. “Yeah. I do.” She said in between giggles. He smirks at her. “Well, you’re in for it now. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” She gives him a smirk back. “Don’t worry we’ll both finish.” She bit her lip and he stared at them. Those full lips he’s been wanting to devour all night.

He didn’t let anymore time pass before smashing his lips onto hers. Her hands found the front of his shirt, pulling him more into her. He took in every taste he could get of her. The sweetness of the wine was still on her lips. The smell of peaches in her hair, complimented by the vanilla in her perfume. She drowned herself in his touch, giving over the power immediately to him. He was in charge now.

Picking her up by her legs that wrapped around him he carried her to the bed. He climbed on top of her and pulled her into him by her hips causing her to feel that bulge again. “God you were driving me crazy.” he said in a husky tone as me moved his mouth down her neck. Nipping her ear and bringing a sweet moan from her mouth, he shook in pleasure at the sound. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt and threw It to she side before doing the same to hers. His hands moved to her pants to pull them off as well as he left passionate kisses down her stomach. They had already kicked their shoes off so all he had to do was pull them down her legs.

His thumb rubbed over her warmth that was soaking through her panties. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one that was uncomfortable on that ride.” He smirked down at her. Her chest moving up and down with deep breaths as he rubbed her clit. Hooking his fingers in the waistband of her underwear he took them off and threw her legs over his shoulders. She gasped loudly as his tongue hit her clit and flicked it, sucking on it every now and again.

“Oh fuck Chris.” She breathed out, her hands grasping the pillow that was behind her head. She could feel herself pooling under his touch, tension building in her abdomen. “Chris, I’m about to cum.” He stopped his actions causing her to let out a raspy breath. “Please.” She whined as his mouth came back to hers. He kissed her again passionately. One of his hands down between her legs, fingers entering her and his thumb back on her clit. Her moans were muffled by his mouth at attempt to keep her somewhat quiet.

He pulled away “You gotta keep quiet ma. Can you do that?” Kicking his pants and boxers off she nodded while biting her bottom lip. He stroked his dick a few times before lining it up. “Shhhh.” He smirked as he hushed her. Then slammed into her with no warning or chance for her to get used to him first. His hand flew up to her mouth knowing she was going to moan loudly as soon as he did that. And she did. “I told you to stay quiet pretty girl. I need you to listen.” His voice becoming raspier as he moves in and out of her, keeping constant eye contact. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he hit that one spot. His hand didn’t leave her mouth to muffle the sounds she was making.

He kept hitting that spot inside her that was driving her insane. Her legs wrapped around his hips bringing him in deeper. His thrusts became faster and harder. He threw his head back and let out a low growl as he felt himself get closer to his climax. Watching him in this state brought her closer to hers as well. She reached up and grabbed his wrist that was still connected to her face. Her grip tightening as her release inched closer and closer. “Oh shit, Fuck.” His hand uncovered her mouth and before any sound could escape his mouth fell back onto hers. They both reached their climax together moaning into each other’s mouths. His actions slowed as he pulled out and came on her stomach.

After detaching their lips, he laid his forehead on hers as they steadied their breathing. He places tender kisses on her neck and up to her cheek before placing one on her lips. “So,” He looked down at her, “How about a second date?” She broke out in laughter bringing a chuckle out of him as well. “I’d love to.” He smiled before placing another passionate kiss on her mouth and her hands wrapped in his hair deepening the kiss.

[normal-internet-user]

CHERRY BLOSSOM PT: 3

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Pt 1 Pt 2

Summary: You and Leo spend the night getting to know each other on your balcony.

Warnings: Mild swearing!

Requested: ???

GN Reader!

.........................................

You hummed quietly to yourself as you trimmed one of the ferns on your balcony.

You were currently waiting for Leo to arrive, as the two of you had planned to spend some time getting to know each other better.

You had spent a fair amount of time with the blur clad turtle, what with him visiting every now and again to, "Check in." as he said, and the occasional texting.

You didn't mind though, you liked it when he visited. You learned quite a bit about him, like how he had three younger brother's, and that they were all named after famous renaissance painters.

Just as you had traded your trimmers for the watering can, a familiar thump! sounded behind you, alerting you of Leonardo's arrival.

You glanced back with a smile, then moved to water your orchid, "Fancy meeting you here."

Leo chuckled, "Indeed, do you come here often?"

"You could say that."

The two of you devolved into a fit of childish giggles, "That's so stupid." you said, giggling.

Leo shook his head as he chuckled, "Yeah. yeah it is. How have you been anyway? Anymore trouble with Purple Dragons?"

"Nope," You said as you examined your cherry tree, "Infact, last time I saw afew of them, they literally ran in the other direction."

"Well at least you don't have to worry about getting mugged."

"I suppose there is that." you agreed, then asked, "Speaking of mugging, shouldn't you be on patrol? I know we planned to meet and all, but still. I don't want to be the reason you miss a patrol."

Leo shook his head, a small smile gracing his features, "No, my brothers offered to let me have the night off, so don't worry about that."

You hummed in response, examining the buds of your tulips. The two of you talked for a while, different topics coming and going, until eventually the topic of gardening came up.

Leo offhandedly metion that he had a few bonsai trees back at his home, and when you asked if he'd ever seen them bloom, he replied that, no, they had never been able to bloom due to lack of sunlight.

"Well you could bring them here. I'd be more than happy to help take care of them, plus it gives you an excuse to visit more often."

Leo chuckled, "Quite eager for my company, aren't we?"

You blushed lightly throwing a pebble at is forehead, "Shut up. You don't have to bring them here, I was just saying that maybe-"

"I'd actually appreaciate it if you'd allow me to bring them over. You know alot more about plants than I do, and you can tell me if maybe I've been doing something wrong." Leo picked up the extra watering can you kept, and he started to water some of the other flowers, "And like you said, it gives me an excuse to visit more often."

You giggled, "Quite eager for my company, aren't we?"

Leo laughed, shaking his head and continued help you tend to your plants. After some more time together, the two of you agreed he could drop by with the bonsai sometime that Saturday.

You looked at the time on your phone with a sigh, "It's getting really late, and I have work tommorow."

Leo nodded, "I should probably be getting home soon anyhow, I do need to make sure my brothers returned in one piece afterall."

The two of you said a quiet good-bye, and you watched as Leo lept away over the rooftops.

As you lay comfortably in bed, you smile softly to yourself, the promise of seeing Leo that coming Saturday easing you into the comfort of dreamland.

.........................................

Tag-List!

@saspas-corner 💕

@brunnetteiwik 💕

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch Week 11

Prompt: "I didn't think we'd make it this far"

Word Count: 600+

Tags: fluff, sad, light angst, reminiscing

Wrecker sat lazily on the balcony of the Batchers new home. Staring out over the ocean as the light of the moon sent shimmers over the waves. Living on Kamino all his life he had only seen storms and torrential waves crashing against each other like a violent mess of salt and seaweed. This stark contrast was much more beautiful though. And if he was being honest he would have happily sat here for the rest of his life and simply watched as the waves rolled in and out. The sun and moon taking turns to cast their glow onto the deep blue.

He heard the ‘ppst’ of the door as it slid open and shut again, someone walking outside to join him. He looked up to see Hunter sitting beside him on the other chair they had sitting on their porch.

“It’s beautiful ain’t it?” he remarks nodding his head towards the view as he speaks.

“Much better than what we used to see all the time on Kamino”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed

The two of them sat, listening to the wind and the wildlife and the sea. Relaxing into this blissful state, one that was unfamiliar but very very welcome.

“Hey Hunter…is this real?”

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks as he turns to look at Wrecker, bringing his head up from where it rested on his clasped hands.

“Well, I mean, this sometimes just feels too good to be true, y’know!”

Wrecker tilted his head and pursed his lips for a moment “When I first got my scar-“ he pointed at the side of his face, the light pink and white puckered scar that stretch like a bolt of lightening across his features “-I thought I was done for, that explosion was nasty and I was in the med bay for five days. But I made it and we went on to do so many more missions”

He stopped looking away from the sea to the terracotta that made up the balcony floor “And after that, it was just mission after mission. And I’d never thought I’d do anything else. And yet here we are. Living all domestic like, like the civilians we used to help”

He pauses again, trying to think about what he wanted to say. Hunter could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he watched Wrecker think. He didn’t interrupt him. He wanted Wrecker to say what he needed to say. It wasn’t often he was serious like this

“I guess I just never thought we’d make it this far. There were so many times I thought we were gonners. I don’t like sayin’ it. But it’s true. And here we are…well most of us”

Both of their thoughts turn to Tech. He was the only one of them who hadn’t made it this far. The only one who never got to see the end of their war. The war they had been born to fight in. The war they had no say in except for at the end of a blaster.

“I bet he would have liked what we’ve built. How much Crosshair’s changed and how much Omega has grown. Bet he would have been real proud”

He lifts his chest as he says that last sentence. He could always see the good in things even when they felt bleak and hopeless. It brought Hunter’s spirits up as well, even if it was only slightly.

Like Omega, Wrecker had a way of lighting up anything he was around. Conversations felt lighter, rooms felt brighter and bleak situations felt more accomplishable.

“Yeah, I think he would have. And neither did I. Sometimes felt like we would be soldiers until our dying day. And really we were. The Empire thinks were dead anyway”

“HAH! Jokes on them. Were out here living the life whilst they do fancy pants government things on Coruscant!"

Hunter chuckled and he turned his head back to watching the sea as Wrecker did the same

They didn’t think they would make it this far. But they did.

[ahopefulbromantic]

Okay. Alright. Not that anyone cares

I felt the need to tell my story, my well, testimony, some would say, though I don't like this word that much.

Get ready for the wall of text!!!

I'm not straight. That's a fact, it's not something I could change even if I wanted to (I don't. I love it). I don't identify as asexual. I am asexual. As far as I remember, I've never been straight. And if there could be anything that "changed me" it would have happened way too early for anyone to be able to be sure about it.

I've never been straight. But I don't call myself LGBT+ or queer person, either. Because that to me means identifying as a part of the community I don't feel a part of. I'll get to it. For now, let's start from the beginning:

There were, of course, boyfriends from kindergarten. But they weren't anything more than a make-believe play which actually often irritated me. I mean, I decided I was in love with one when I was six, not because I actually was, it was just a thing all the girls did and I wanted to make dramatic confessions like those I've seen in movies. Another one decided he was in love with me so I used him for my benefit (things like: "yeah okay whatever you can be my boyfriend if you clean up my desk, sweet"). I was telling people I had a crush on Michał Wiśniewski who was at the time a thirty-something-years-old Polish vocalist. Did I find him attractive? Of course not. But he did have red hair, and that's an esthetic trait I'm still really fond of, and remember, I was six. So yeah. Apart from those I've had no other boyfriends or crushes ever again. As early as 9 years old I already decided those weren't for me and I haven't changed my mind since.

And nobody bothered me about it. No girly sleepovers where everyone had to confess their crushes, no people pestering me about it so much I'd feel uncomfortable. Not even that many deep conversation with other people about their crushes to which I could only respond with "mkay" or "who needs crushes anyway? but you do you I guess?". And, most fortunately, no talking about s*x of any kind. I've only attended a few s*x-ed classes at my schools - thankfully at first my mom decided I didn't have to waste my time there, though later she thought maybe I could get some use out of it despite my pleas and whinings. I did not get any use of it. I was repulsed by everything that was said there. I was positive everyone else must be, too. I tried not to listen at all, best as my little grindy and obedient mind could. Goes without saying that I despised any s*x scenes in books and movies as well and never talked with anyone about those topics, cause they made me extremely uncomfortable. Even the occasional intrusive thoughts I fought like fire.

I've seen lots of acearo people confess that they feel like they are broken, or like there's something wrong with them. I've never had that. I knew I wasn't broken, that would be ridiculous. I was right. It's everyone else who was gross and weird.

I started to ponder that maybe I was different during junior high. One of my classmates kept asking me who's the most handsome boy in our class and I always replied: my brother, of course! 😁 (Truthfully so, he's really beautiful). It may have been around that time I noticed that I looked differently at people than most did. I couldn't tell if someone was attractive or not. I found everyone beautiful, though some features I liked more than others.

There was a boy in our class, shy and quiet, we got along pretty well. After graduating junior high, another classmate called me to tell me he fancied me and to ask if I fancied him, too. I told her I didn't look at people that way. Her immediate response was "yo are you a lesbian???". "No! I'm not a lesbian!", I replied. "...Am I?", I thought. After this I had a long think about my orientation. I wasn't straight. I wasn't lesbian, either. I figured I might be bi, I did seem to be keen on girls on the same level as on boys. But it didn't feel right either, as that level was 0. It was funny, I realized I'd never thought about my orientation until that moment, when I was 16. I hadn't ever needed to. I finally decided I must be something else entirely, some glorious anomaly in the world who's wired differently than everybody else. I left it at that. There wasn't any need in figuring it out for now anyway.

I went to the best high school ever. One of its many cool features was that we didn't have s*x-ed classes in the timetables at all. They were done once in a while by a school psychologist when the teacher for any class was absent. This happened during one of my first days and it took me by surprise. It wasn't that bad, I had a book and a few friends to chat and dismiss the teachings entirely with.

I did hear a few sentences, though. The psychologist was speaking about there being different orientations. "And many people don't know that beside heterosexual, homosexual, and bisexual people, there also exist asexual people." My head jolted up. I did not need any explanation. As soon as I heard the term, my immediate thought was: "Oh. So I'm asexual. Huh, cool!" It made my day. I was beaming without cease for the rest of it.

I did some research. As soon as I found out the term aromantic, I claimed it as well. There was never any doubt in my mind. And I was the most stereotypical acearo imaginable, too. S*x-repulsed, childlike, innocent, a proud virgin, valuing my friendships more than anything, fairly androgynous, quirky, weird, fantasy loving, romance hating, not being able to understand any of it, turning my head away whenever two characters kissed during a movie, a garlic bread enjoyer. I loved the memes, they were so relatable!

So naturally I bought myself an ace ring to proudly wear, I secretly celebrated every asexual/aromantic awareness dates, and I joined online ace communities.

That was... where the magic bubble started to pop. I just, I couldn't feel myself a part of the group. For instance, everyone was so caught up in being recognized as part of the LGBT+ club, which to me frankly didn't make sense. I mean, I get gay and bi aces wanting to be part of the group, but for aroaces and straight aces, I didn't see what we had in common with the rest of them? But that was bearable, to each their own. What really made me feel sad and unwelcomed were some other things. Firstly, how much talk about s*x there actually was? In an asexual community? Like guys, please, I thought this would be a safe space where we did NOT have to talk about it all the time??? And yeah, I get that not every ace is s*x-repulsed and negative about the topic, but do we really feel the need to stress it so much on every possible occasion and to top it all go into nsfw topics on main so much that it's really getting uncomfortable, even with all the tw and cw? Secondly, from the content of the posts it seemed that somehow being ace and/or aro is inextricably intertwined with being a leftist? Why are you all talking about abortion bans? Why are you advocating for which US president to vote for?? Why are you so proudly defending prostitution??? And why are you making fun of Christians so much???? And all in a way that would suggest we all universally agree, how could we not.

I realized something during this time. I realized what orientation really was, or rather, what it was not. It was just that - orientation. The one and only thing it said about someone was who they were attracted to. Which honestly is not a thing I feel the need to know about people. What it did not say about someone was: how they go about experiencing their orientation, what their ideal family looks like, what their worldview is, what their stance on social/political/religious issues is, whether they feel a part of LGBT+ communities or not, what their lifestyle is, what other traits they possess, and so on (y'know, the things that would actually interest me about someone).

After three years I took off my ace ring. I cut ties with any queer groups I was in. I was looking for a place to find like-minded people where we all would share confusion about the world's obsession with s*x, where we would celebrate other forms of relationships and intimacy than erotic and romantic ones, where we would value virginity and celibacy, where no one would tell us we were broken or worse for it, where we would ensure each other that different lifestyles than married with biological children are possible and out there, where we would laugh together and feel good about ourselves.

I didn't find this in queer spaces.

I found it in the Church.

[dehydration-stati0n]

Cowboy Casanova {Cowboy!Shanks x Reader}

Shanks is divorced to an unknown woman in this AU (??) Her loss I guess🤷. I was going to use Nami instead of Belle-mere but then I remembered that didn't make any sense timeline wise sooo here we are

Western AU Rules Word Count: 0.7k Spoilers: None

"Uh oh, look who's coming." Belle-mere nudged you, watching as Shanks make his way over to where the two of you sat on your ancient porch, his horse hitched up on one of the nearby posts. It was a wonder how the drunk even managed to tie the knot with how much he drinks daily.

"Well, howdy ladies, fancy seeing y'all here." Shanks greeted, faking a thick southern accent as he tipped his hat to the two of you.

You couldn't stand Shanks. You've heard too many stories about him in the many bars around town to have much respect for him. Most of them end with the redhead being dragged out to stop him from drinking and flirting with all the women there. Someone with so little care about their reputation always left behind a trail of trouble- bad luck, so to speak. You only wished your heart would stop aching whenever the alcoholic in question came up in your mind. You thought you hated everything about him, so why did you want him around so bad? Why do you daydream about talking to him for hours on end? Why did he have to be so handsome? You could tell Bell-mere knew about your little crush through all the knowing glances she always shot your way. You swore you'd kill her if she kept making it so obvious.

"Shanks," You greeted, clearing your throat, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes glimmered with mischief as he caught your gaze with his own, "Just thought I'd stop by and say 'hi' to my two favorite girls."

Bell-mere snorted, rolling her eyes playfully as she spoke, "Oh please, Shanks, take all your flirting back to the bar. None of that'll work on us."

"Yeah?" He grinned, "Well, maybe that's why you two are my favorite." You felt a light blush dust your cheeks at his words. You didn't think you'd last long if he kept at this game of his.

Small, golden clouds of dust started to kick up against the strong orange of the setting sun. The night sky that slowly peaked out above the rolling hills of the west faintly cast an ocean of darkness over the desert landscape.

"No really though, what are you doing here?" You questioned, curious as to why he traveled all the way from the city to where your small house sat on the edge of town. It wasn't a ridiculous journey by any means, but it took about an hour to do so, and you doubted it was only to say 'hi'.

He gazed into your eyes for a moment before replying, "My daughter, Uta, she's uh- well- I need help watching her." He paused for a moment, considering his next words, "She's young, and I'm away a lot longer than I'd like to be. Would you at least consider it?"

You thought about it for a moment- well, overthought it. Babysitting his daughter would surely make people talk. It wasn't exactly common for a divorced man let his daughter be taken care of by someone other than his ex-wife. Would this make you appear to be his wife? Or perhaps Uta's mother? Was this his strange way of courting you? It was Belle-mere not-so-subtly stepping on your foot that broke you out of your little trance.

You blinked up at the man and sighed, "Yeah, bring her over here tomorrow, I'll look after her."

"Thank you, (Y/N), you have no idea how much this means to me." He beamed, jogging up the creaky wooden stairs of your old porch as he leaned in and kissed you on your cheek gratefully.

Your blush rushed back fast as you stammered over your next choice of words, "Y-yeah, anytime- I mean, we're friends, right?"

"Yeah," His features held a sort of saddened desire as if he wanted-hoped even, that they would've been replaced with something else- something more intimate. "If you ever need anything, just come fetch me, alright?" He cringed internally at the word 'friend', but he supposed 'friends' would do for now.

You watched longingly after the redheaded drunk. It didn't take long for Belle-mere to catch on to your stare, as she quickly started teasing you for it. Belle-mere's playful jabs and giggles, your desperate pleas for her to quiet down, and the hooves of Shanks' horse as he made his way back to the closest bar to try and drink his feelings away again filled the night air. Both of you and Shanks' lives would be a little different now that this little event would be set in motion.

[gomzwrites]

100 Followers Special: Fic Marathon

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Uniform ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

more info on the fic marathon check out this post :)

Day 3: Konig

Tags: fluff, xtall gn!reader, implied nsfw at the end, inaccurate uniform descriptions, bad German (translation below sentences)

Notes: ・❥・reader's texts are in purple ・❥・indented texts are memories ・❥・dividers drawn by @gomzdraws ・❥・credit to shadeops21 for that one specific shirt described in this fic

a/n: side note, I don't play the game but I did watch the playthrough and ref the cod wiki page. Also remember how I was talking the amount of struggle I did for this fic? its because of the uniform part, can't for the life find out whether Austrian Colonel uniform is red-blue, stone gray or gold, don't even get me started on the insignia XD please if you know what the official uniform would look like lmk in the comment!

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Ah great, looks like we ran out of mayonnaise... Konig dear! Where are you?

A few footsteps were heard when you called for him, and within seconds, he was right at the kitchen door, a worrying face evident in his features.

Yes Liebling? What’s wrong?

Ah, nothing much; we ran out of mayonnaise and a few other items for the dinner I’m making tonight. Can you run to the store and get them for me?

Konig nodded as he quietly walked towards you and took your hand gently.

Do you have a list?

Yeah, hold on.

You quickly take out a piece of paper and scribble down the ingredients needed, fold it neatly, and hand it to him. You think for a moment before smiling as you pat his arm.

Grab some dessert on your way home as well, my treat.

You finish by giving him some cash as his eyes brighten up and he chuckles.

Okay, thank you. I’ll make sure to be back as soon as I can, my Liebling.

You give him a peck on the cheek as he wears his hood and wave him goodbye once he goes into the car. You go back into the kitchen and prepare the other necessary preparations, such as seasoning and washing, before wiping your hands clean.

You decided that since there was extra time and you had to wait for Konig to return with the groceries, you might as well do other chores. You head into the master bedroom, which both of you shared, and open the closets, taking out a few of his military suits and laying them on the bed. It had been awhile since you looked through and iron them since most of his outfits are at the base, so it was refreshing to glance back at the series of uniforms he had.

You run your hands along the combat shirt and pants he had before, smiling when you see the clear difference in sizes over the years. He does still like wearing his black tactical Cyre G3 combat shirt, but what you really like is his Colonel uniform.

You lift it up as you examine it closely, tracing over the different badges and insignia sewed onto the uniform. You chuckle when you recall the memory of when he came home in it.

My dear! Wow, look at you all fancy and looking important! You give a whistle and chuckle as you quickly greet him and stare at him excitedly. Ah, please don't, my Liebling, this is embarrassing… Konig said as he quickly undressed and tossed the uniform onto the floor. But you’re the Colonel! Isn’t that, like, a great achievement in the military? Konig didn't reply as he sighed and kissed your hair; he didn't make any more comments about it, and you never brought it up since it bothered him, not until two days later during the late hours. You felt him rolling to your side as he slung his arm around your waist and pulled you close. I don’t like being one; it brings too much attention to myself. He mumbles as he buries his head into your neck, and you nod in understanding after making sense of what he was talking about and cooed him back to sleep.

But it looks so cool.

You thought to yourself as you looked at the collar, lined with delicate gold arabesques, as it shimmered under the light. You give a hum before you let the impulsive thought win and decide to wear it.

Truthfully, you’re also quite tall yourself thanks to your family’s genes, standing proudly at 6 ft tall(185cm), while Konig is just a few more inches taller around 6.6 ft tall(roughly at 200cm). It’s perfect because you can easily kiss his cheek without much effort and watch him blush hard every single time. He’s never gotten used to having someone who can stare at him the way you do so openly and with ease.

You decided that if you’re going to wear something this extravagant, you might as well go full out. So you promptly remove your shirt and wear the uniform carefully. It wasn’t comfortable due to how rigid the cloth felt against your skin, and the pants were a bit longer, but once you glanced at the mirror, you were quite proud and shocked at how good it looked on you, and it fits well, surprisingly. Well, everything except the sleeves. As always, it was also a bit too long and ended on your knuckles, so you just folded them up.

An idea pops into your mind the more you stare at yourself in the mirror.

You give a hum of amusement as you twirl and stretch around, giggling when you decide to imitate your boyfriend. You take a moment to recall the times when you got to watch his demonstration practice and smirk as you start acting alert and put on your serious game face. You hold up your arms in the air as you imagine yourself holding a rifle and mutter in a deep voice.

Target secured, attack the HVT!

You say this before twisting around and making the "pew pew" sound with your hand, giggling and chuckling as you completely get lost in the moment, then you crouch down beside the bed and pretend to resume a hiding position as you mutter softly.

And they say I could never be a sniper.

You make another dramatic "pow" sound before standing up and sliding to the center of the room with a "hyah!" and standing up, glancing around until you notice a tall figure at the bedroom door that you forgot to close. You instantly stop and freeze at your place as a blush creeps up your face.

Having fun, Mein Schatz?

You let out a huff of embarrassment for being caught like this, and you felt your neck heat up as you gave a sheepish smile.

I erm- Konig-

Scheiße, Sieh dich an... Shit, look at you...

He mutters as he slowly walks towards you; each step felt calculative, so slow as you watched his eyes that kept you in place. You can’t glance away, something about his gaze feels hypnotic.

Something about the way he looks at you makes you shutter; it's intimidating but also���.primal…which is kind of hot. As he finally stands in front of you, so close that your chest bumps into his, he tilts his head to one side.

I hated this uniform, but now that I see you wear it, hmmmm…

His voice is deep and drawn out as he circles you, almost like a predator studying its prey. You gulped nervously as you tucked your collar in and answered back with a meek tone.

Should I take it off?

He gives you a long thought as he stands behind you. As soon as his hands are on you, he immediately carries and tosses you to the bed as you yelp at the sudden motion.

K-Konig?

You ask as you watch him crawl towards you as he reveals a smirk, then opens his mouth and lazily runs his tongue over his teeth as he gives a deep chuckle.

No, keep it on, because I...will be the one removing it.

You swallow excitedly as you bite your lips and rest your head on the soft pillow, under his mercy as he towers over you.

Who cares about dinner anyway?

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Previous fic: Kyle Gaz Garrick | Captain John Price Next fic: John Soap MacTavish

a/n: I know everyone hc Konig to be huge at 6”10 but I went along with the military guideline on the tallest height they allow which is around 6.6 ft tall, also I took Ghost's height as a ref which is around 6'4 ((yes yes I know none of these heights are cannon)) but ye XD thinking maybe I'll write some more tall reader x Konig fic in the future though :]

taglist: @cathnoneofyourbusiness | @land-lord-lol

like and reblog if you enjoyed this fic :D have a good day/night!

[catmemer]

If you'd like to infodump about Valerie she's been on my mind 👀

Yeah for sure!

I made Valerie back in like 2019. She's basically a witch that escaped a strict puritan-like town so she could study magic and continue her parents research on immortality. During her studies and research, she summoned a demon (named Jasper/Jazz), fell in love with him, and eventually became a demon herself.

In 2020, our previous dnd group started a gothic horror campaign called Curse of Strahd, and I decided to turn her into a dnd character so I could play her! She's a Hexblade Warlock who has pretty much the same backstory, with some minor differences. She makes a pact with an entity that tells her where she can find immortality, and she goes out to travel and find it (and ends up being stuck in Barovia).

She meets the other party members, travels with them, does some adventuring, etc etc dnd stuff. Our campaign didn't finish unfortunately and we left off at the Amber Temple (fucked up ancient place with dark powers), the place where she would've found her patron and talked about how she would be able to earn the immortality she sought out.

A few years ago our current DM (who was a player in our previous game) started a new CoS game and decided to take a few of the previous party members and make them NPCS in our current game. In this version, Valerie and her previous group were at the Amber Temple and something happened (which may or may not have been her fault?) that caused all of them to split. Since Valerie's whole thing was to be at the Amber Temple that's where she resided and slowly went mad over time, forgetting what happened and why she went there in the first place.

Our current party went there a while ago and we found her there. She basically just hosted bingo nights for the creatures that lived there lol. After some exploring and some combat, she decided to follow us so she could try and clear her mind a bit. So now my DM and I take turns playing her as she's with the party lol.

Other facts and info (that I can think of rn lol):

Likes magic (especially dark magic), ancient knowledge, and anything spooky and forbidden. Typical witch stuff.

She magically dyes her hair purple (her favorite color). Her natural hair color is black. 

Favorite animal: bats.

Loves to read gothic romance novels.

Loves to dress in fancy clothes, especially gothic clothing.

Likes drinking wine

Afraid of large bodies of water

And some fun stuff from the campaigns:

In our first playthrough, Valerie got to eldritch blast and smack Strahd in the face. In both campaigns, she is an enemy of Strahd.

Bffs with Escher. Hasn't seen him in forever though and totally wants to have a night on the town with him at some point lol.

In our first playthrough, Valerie got to rip out the soul of the werewolf boss we were fighting and turned it into a specter that obeyed her commands for a short amount of time. Hoping to use this feature again in our current game lol.

Definitely wants to hangout with the Abbot again. I need to see their deranged energies together lol.

In our current game, she was a temporary "caretaker" of Neferon at the Amber Temple. Would always carry hard candies to get him to cooperate.

In our current game, while the party was fighting Baba Lysaga, Valerie went off to the village of Barovia to do her own thing. Went shopping and slept with Ismark while the party was dying lol.

Banned from Castle Ravenloft, Krezk, and Vallaki due to shenanigans with previous party.

She so badly wants to find her previous party members. We met one so far, a deranged and wild gnome (named Briz) that lives in the forest, but she hasn't seen him yet.

[justplainwhump]

Just A Fling: Invite

Written for the Peyton / Dany "Just A Fling"-AU. Peyton belongs to @wildfaewhump.

References this and this.

[Just A Fling Masterlist]

Content warnings: implied past assault (partly within a relationship), gaslighting, victim blaming; Peyton is an asshole.

The invitation card Dany can't stop staring at is settled right on top of a stack of other mail.

Business correspondence, all of that, she's sifted through it already; a signed copy of their collaboration agreement with a major freight airline, offerings from consultancies, the preprint of the upcoming issue of a logistics magazine featuring her in its cover story about their new automated container terminal. All items that should demand her attention.

All items that have ceased to exist in the instant she pulled the card from it's heavy white envelope, and all she can feel is dread pooling in her stomach.

It's a carefully designed layout, maritime imagery, golden letters in an elegant yet fancy font, all set around a photo of Peyton Montgomery looking casually stunning.

Just like Peyton had looked casually stunning leaning in the doorway of his house the last time she'd seen him, when he had shrugged and rolled his eyes at her and told her nothing she remembered was real. I think you need to take some time to figure yourself out, he'd said, and closed the door.

She hasn't even managed to get herself to hate him.

If anything, she hates herself. For accepting her defeaf, for allowing him, them, to be in control. Control of the narrative. Control of her.

It takes all of her effort to reach out for the card. It trembles slightly in her hand, as she turns it around to read its back.

The details are printed in golden letters. Party of the year. Peyton Montgomery's 30th birthday. His yacht, Davenport Marina. Next month.

It's not even a clerical error that she's receive one, not his office sending out a bunch of impersonal invites to an anonymous mailing list. No. It's personal. Dany, is handwritten on top of the card with an undoubtedly expensive fountain pen, and it makes her stomach turn how easily she recognises Peyton's handwriting from dozens of notes he's sneaked into her pockets during the few months of their affair.

Dany,. Nothing else.

It's a punch in the gut.

As if nothing happened.

No. As if what happened didn't matter.

The number next to the RSVP isn't his. She knows it from one glance, easily, because she knows too horribly much about that man.

Before she can think it through, she hits call on her phone, and his intitals light up on the display, over a photo of his hand holding a drink. Just a guy with no face. Just a casual fling. That's what they were always supposed to be. Not more.

Not less.

"Dany," Peyton answers, almost cheerfully. Dany. Just like on the fucking card. Just like she hears his voice say in her nightmares.

"What the actual fuck, Peyton?"

She hears someone talk in the background, and his voice muffled when he replies something, about wine coolers and ice cubes and tables, before he's back with her.

"Sorry, Party stuff. Event planner keeping me on my toes. You know how it is. So, what's up? Did you get the invite?"

She focuses on her hands, forces herself to stay steady. "Peyton," she presses through clenched teeth. "Are you even fucking aware of what happened at the last party we went to together? Hint, that was the one where you let your best friend spike my drink so that the two of you could have your way with me, and I wouldn't even remember."

His tone sounds like he's rolling his eyes. "Please, that didn't happen. Don't come if you're going to be a bad sport, but i thought you'd be over that ridiculous story by now, c'mon."

"Oh yeah?" Dany's fingers clench the phone, while she tries to control her breathing. To let the anger win, not whatever else it is she's feeling. "Pretty sure even Geoff remembers that different from you. Or Valerian. They - I -" She closes her eyes, trying to ban the images from her memory. Tears are stinging in the corners of her eyes. "That night," she starts again, "the two of you shattered me to fucking pieces. Nothing, nothing's been the same. I can't sleep. I can't feel safe. You took that from me. And now you expect me to rsvp to your fucking birthday party?"

The other end of the line goes quiet, the event planner shooed away.

"Fine." Peyton's voice is chilling, suddenly. "Consider your invitation rescinded. And I'll let my security know, so please don't show up and cause a scene. I really thought you'd be more mature about this, Dany. We had fun that night. You got drunk and high and scared yourself, and you've been on a crusade to blame me ever since. Don't call me again."

"Fuck you," she hisses. "I've kept fucking quiet about this everywhere, Peyton, because Geoff and you made sure your fucking lies are airtight. A crusade? That's the fucking opposite of this."

"You're lucky you're so fuckable," he sneers. "Because I certainly wasn't seeing you for your personality. Goodbye, Dany. You'll hear from my lawyers if you try to contact me again."

Dany stares at the phone for minutes, after he disconnected.

Slowly, there's something icy settling inside her and she allows it to grow; a cold rage gathering under her skin, a barrier settling over the dread and heartbreak and self loathing.

She's going to call her own lawyers, too.

But before that, she's going to make another call.

Her gaze flicks to the birthday card again. His yacht. Peyton's fucking proud of that thing, as proud as he is of his mind blowing parties.

She won't ever go on a crusade against him publicly, they both know that.

But there's one thing he doesn't know.

Her company doesn't just own commercial harbours.

She presses the button that connects her to her assistant. "I need to talk to the head of operations of Davenport Marina. About an event next month. The matter is confidential."

She'll never get back what Peyton took from her that night. He's won. But at least, he's given her opportunity to take something of his, something that signifies more to him than she ever did.

It's petty, it's small, it's beneath her; but at least it's something she can do.

She's going to take his party.