#(and i figure it's as good a way as any to sneak back into fandom stuff)

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I've got to say, I'm very pleased that this au won the latest poll! Gwaine's one of my favorite characters, but I don't give him enough love in my writing. So, I decided to really let his character shine in this au alongside some other characters who I feel like didn't get enough attention in the show. Enjoy! :D

Also, I saw that Merlin was trending again today, so I decided to jump in while that was happening lol! I love that this fandom will just wake up on a random day and decide to take over tumblr!

This au is set in the years between season 4 and season 5 (but Lancelot is still alive because I say so), and the story starts with Gwaine's getting a little worried about his friend. Merlin's getting more and more stressed as the weeks go by, and he doesn't smile very often anymore despite Gwaine's best efforts, which usually involve roping Merlin into whatever mischief he's stirred up recently for a little bit of fun.

Gwaine feels pretty guilty about Merlin's worsening mental state, because Gwaine is thriving for the first time in his life, finding a community and purpose among the knights of Camelot. And he owes it all, everything he now has, to Merlin, who is suffering under a burden that no one can seem to help him with.

So, Gwaine tries all that he can to cheer up his friend and pull him out of whatever terrible place his mind is stuck in, but no matter what Gwaine does, he can't seem to lighten Merlin's mood any. Sure, Merlin will plaster on a smile for Gwaine's sake and tell him that nothing's wrong, but Gwaine can see the dullness in Merlin's eyes, he saw it every time his saw his reflection for years before Merlin barreled into his life and showed him that there was more to life than taverns and wandering.

Before he knew it, a year had passed, and Gwaine hadn't made any progress in pulling Merlin out of his darkening mental state. Gwaine felt so frustrated and useless whenever he saw Merlin's smile the drop the second he thought that no one was watching. This was his chance to finally repay Merlin for turning his life around for the better, for giving him a home, a family, a purpose, but nothing he did was helping!

But Gwaine couldn't give up on helping Merlin. There must be a way to help him, to support him through whatever was burdening him, some way to bring that bright spark back to his eyes. Gwaine just had to find out how.

From the on, Gwaine kept an even closer eye on Merlin, determined to figure out what was weighing down his friend and how to ease his burdens. It was because Gwaine was watching Merlin so closely that he noticed them.

Gwaine will give them credit, whoever they were, they were good at stealth, far beyond anyone Gwaine had met before. The cloaked figure was almost always out of sight, right in the corners of his vision. At first, he thought that this nearly imperceivable figure was after him, but it didn't take him long to figure out that the mysterious figure was following Merlin.

As soon as Gwaine realized this, all of the alarm bells in his mind went off. Was this an assassin sent to kill Merlin? A spy trying to infiltrate Camelot? A bandit planning to abduct Merlin for ransom?

Or, Gwaine realized, this might be connected to Merlin's worsening moods. This mysterious figure was clearly well trained, but they had been following Merlin for over a week and still hadn't attacked, so they probably weren't an assassin or bandit. Was Merlin being threatened by this figure into doing their bidding?!

Finally, after tailing Merlin's stalker for weeks, Gwaine manages to get some answers after following Merlin on a late-night rendezvous outside of the castle. When Gwaine had spotted Merlin sneaking away under the cover of night, Gwaine of course had to follow him! Merlin could be in danger!

Gwaine followed Merlin as the other man made his way into the woods with a surprising amount of stealth. After a long hike through the woods, Merlin arrived at his destination, which, to Gwaine's shock, looked strikingly like a druid camp. There were painted tents, campfires, and even magical symbols carved into the tree, and all signs pointed to sorcerers living there.

Gwaine's anxiety skyrocketed at the sight. Why would Merlin risk coming to this secret druid camp, which Arthur definitely did not know about? Was Merlin being threatened and followed by sorcerers?!

Gwaine crept around the outskirts of the camp, sticking to the darkness. He saw Merlin approach a rather intimidating bald man, who, if the way the others in the camp made way for him as he walked, was the leader of this group of sorcerers.

Gwaine kept his hand firmly wrapped around the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it and run to the defense of his friend at a moment's notice. As he kept watching though, he strangely couldn't see any sign of a threat towards Merlin. While Gwaine couldn't hear much of their conversation, the intimidating leader guy acted almost friendly towards Merlin, and Merlin was relaxed, not showing any signs of fear at all.

As Merlin and his maybe-friend began making their way out of the camp, Gwaine could finally hear some of what they were saying.

"Thank you again, Alator. I'm not sure what I would've done without your help!"

"It is no burden to me or my men, I assure you. It is an honor to assist a man as great as you, Emrys. Morgana's forces are a threat to us all and an affront to all that is good in this world. We will fight at your side as always and ensure that Morgana's spies never infiltrate Camelot again."

Alright, there was... a lot for Gwaine to unpack there.

First of all, the scary bald man's name was apparently Alator, so that was good to know. He claimed to be allied with Merlin against Morgana, which gave Gwaine some relief.

However, as Gwaine's mind put the pieces together, he wanted to scream with frustration. Merlin was consorting with dangerous sorcerers behind Arthur's back in order to protect Camelot! It was a move so selfless yet foolish that only Merlin could pull it off.

Still, these sorcerers didn't seem hostile towards Merlin at all, so Gwaine could work with that. He just needed a little bit more information on them, some way to confirm that they really were on Merlin's side on not double crossing his friend.

So, Gwaine crept closer into the camp, trying to see what they were up to now that Merlin was gone. He didn't see anything incriminating just yet, but that didn't mean that they were free of any nefarious plans.

Gwaine inched closer and closer into the camp, his eyes trained on the men who were probably sorcerers going about their evening chores in the camp. Gwaine so focused on his targets, in fact, that he didn't register that there was someone behind him until he felt blow to the back of his head and fell unconscious.

As Gwaine woke up, his first thought was that the pounding in his head was just a hangover, which was not by any means an unusual occurrence for Gwaine. That idea was quickly disproven as, when Gwaine tried to raise his hands to his head to try and alleviate his massive headache, he realized that his hands were bound. Once again, this wasn't necessarily an unusual situation for Gwaine, but it did cause him to freeze up with alarm as he remembered where he was and what he was doing before everything went black.

When Gwaine was finally able to peel his eyes open, he was greeted with the sight of several angry-looking men, including their intimidating leader whom Merlin had spoken to. What was his name... ah yes, Alator!

Putting on his friendliest and most innocent smile, Gwaine immediately tried to talk his way out of the situation. It had worked for him in similar situations, so why not give it a shot?

"Well, hello there gentlemen! I was just here looking for my buddy Merlin, have you seen him? Lanky fellow, dark hair, always wearing a neckerchief? A great guy, really, you'd know if you had met him!"

Gwaine scrutinized each of his captors' reactions to Merlin's name. Maybe this way he could find out what their intentions with Merlin. However, all of their expressions remained stubbornly neutral, except for Alator, who simply blinked at the mention of Merlin.

After an awkwardly long silence, Gwaine again tried to get some sort of reaction out of these mysterious men.

"I could have sworn I saw him heading this way, and I got worried about him, ya know? What kind of friend would I be if I let him wander around the forest at night all by himself! He's the kindest person I know, but he can somehow find himself in trouble at any time."

Again, much to Gwaine's rising frustration, Alator simply blinked. After another awkward pause, Alator finally responded.

"You are a knight of Camelot, correct? And you hold Emrys is high regard?"

Gwaine frowned at the seemingly random questions, but he figured it couldn't hurt to keep the conversation rolling, especially if it can get him some answers. Admitting to being a knight of Camelot in front of a bunch of potentially dangerous sorcerer might not be the best move, but they were willingly working with King Arthur's personal manservant, so these guys must not have that much of an issue with Camelot, right?

"Why yes, I am a knight of Camelot! Sir Gwaine, at your service! Based on your question, I assume that Emrys is some nickname you have for Merlin?"

In response to his question, Alator merely gave a single, solemn nod. Man, this group really needed to work on their communication skills.

"In that case, I do hold Emrys in very high regard! In fact, I'd say he's the best person I've ever met!"

Finally, that comment got a reaction out of them! As soon as Gwaine told them about how much he values Merlin, the men in front of him started nodding and murmuring amongst themselves. Gwaine hoped that they were happy about having a common friend and not plotting ways to kill him.

After reaching some consensus, the men all turned towards Gwaine simultaneously, which sent a shiver down Gwaine's back. What were they planning?

Alator then waved his hand, and his eyes flashed gold, confirming Gwaine's suspicions that he was dealing with sorcerers. Gwaine flinched back and braced himself for whatever spell had just been sent his way...

Only to feel the chains binding him fall to the ground, leaving him free and unharmed. Gwaine glanced down to check that he was, in fact, still in one piece before staring at Alator in shock.

"I can sense the honesty in your heart as you speak Emrys's praises. Know that any friend of Emrys is a friend to us. We apologize for our previous behavior, as we did not know that you were also an ally of Emrys. Please, join us for a cup of tea so we can discuss this further."

Gwaine, reeling from his host's sudden change in attitude, let them maneuver him outside and give him a seat at their campfire, with Alator and his men sitting with him around the fire.

Gwaine looked around at his hosts, who sat silently around the fire, not even talking amongst themselves. The silence made Gwaine's nerves stand on end, so he decided to fill that silence himself. He might as well get to know his gracious hosts and fellow friends of Merlin, right?

"So, who are you guys? How did you meet Merlin? Hey, maybe we can compare stories of him! Let me tell you, I've got some crazy stories to share about adventures he's dragged me on!"

The men sitting around him shared a silent look at each other before Alator answered.

"We are the Catha, masters of combat and one of the last surviving sects of priests of the Old Religion. I am Alator, the leader of the Catha. I first met Emrys when I betrayed Morgana to follow a better, more peaceful path. Emrys showed us that Morgana's hatred lies opposed to the will of the gods, and we chose to place our loyalty in him instead. What stories do you have concerning Emrys?"

Gwaine nodded, feeling a strange sort of relatability to these intimidating magic-wielding warrior priests. They, like him, were on a path of meaningless destruction and found a better life by meeting Merlin.

"Ah, I can remember meeting Merlin like it was yesterday! There I was, drowning my sorrows in a tavern, when in walks a skinny looking guy and his pompous friend! They got into trouble pretty quickly, and I couldn't miss out on all that fun! I jumped into the tavern brawl to help them, but I got pretty banged up in the process. But, it turned out that it was my lucky day, because wouldn't you know it, I had accidentally saved the life of the prince of Camelot himself!

I didn't think much of prince Arthur at the time, but his manservant sure made a great impression! He brought me back to Camelot on his own horse, took me to the royal physician, gave up his own bed to me for the night so I could recover, and then covered for me after I got drunk off my ass in the tavern, again.

But then some jackasses posing as knights tried to hurt Merlin, and I stepped in to defend him and wound up getting banished by Uther, but then Arthur welcomed me back and even made me a knight when he became prince regent! And I've been lucky enough to have Merlin at my side ever since!"

Gwaine watched as many of the men's eyes widened at his story, unsure of what exactly they were so shocked by.

"You mean to say that you stood up to Uther Pendragon, the mad butcher king, for Emrys's sake? And came back to his side as soon as you could despite the threat of death hanging over your head?"

"Well, I did manage to see Merlin on one other occasion while I was banished, but he sought me out for that one. Apparently Arthur was having some trouble on his big quest to the Perilous Lands, so Merlin called me in as backup."

The Catha started whispering amongst themselves at that, with even Alator leaning forward in interest.

"Emrys specifically sought out your skills on such a monumental quest? You understand the significance of such an honor?"

Gwaine nodded, his expression shifting from a wistful one to a much more serious one.

"Of course I understand. Merlin's such an amazing person, and it shocks me every time that he thinks I'm someone worth relying on. Still, that only motivates me to not let him down. He saw something in me that no one else did, not even me, and he found a way to bring it to the surface. He changed my life, gave me a purpose, and I will never underestimate how much he's done for me."

This time, all of the Catha were nodding their heads in approval of Gwaine's appreciation for Merlin.

"You truly do see the significance of Emrys, Sir Gwaine. I can see your loyalty towards him clearly. For that, I would like to make you an offer.

Emrys's enemies are our enemies, and there are many of them. Morgana's forces grow stronger by the day, and we can only do so much with how few of us are left. Emrys himself faces many dangers, and we cannot always protect him as much as we'd like, seeing as how we cannot enter the city of Camelot. You, however, are at Emrys's side every day.

In working towards our shared goals, will you work alongside us to protect Emrys and keep Morgana's forces at bay? We can provide you with training that will put you far ahead of any of your peers and weapons that shall make you a formidable opponent to even the most powerful sorcerers. Will you accept our offer?"

"Ah, I see now. It was you lot who have been following Merlin around recently! Well, that certainly gives me quite a bit of relief, knowing that he isn't being followed around by someone who'd want to hurt him. I'd be happy to join in on your mission to protect Merlin!"

The Catha started murmuring approvingly amongst themselves at Gwaine's acceptance, until Alator spoke again.

"That is wonderful. It is an honor to be able to work alongside a warrior held in such high esteem by Emrys himself."

As Gwaine shook Alator's hand, accepting his offer, he got the feeling that this was the start of an amazing alliance.

And it sure was. Over the next months, Gwaine trained alongside the warrior priests whenever he could, becoming accustomed to their stoic natures and silent demeanors. They taught him fighting styles that he had never even heard of before and gave him information on people who were trying to hurt Merlin, allowing him to keep an eye on and eliminate threats to his friend before they had the chance to strike.

The Catha figured out pretty early on that Gwaine was rubbish at learning anything about magic itself, but when they placed enchanted weapons in his hands, he could wield them effortlessly and adapt his combat style to whatever the effects of the enchantment were. He even got a sword that could burst into flames!

As Gwaine's abilities to wield stronger enchanted weapons improved, the Catha started letting him fight the powerful sorcerers that Morgana sent into Camelot. Soon enough, he was equipped with indestructible armor armor that could repel spells and curses, weapons with some of the most formidable enchantments that the Catha could muster, and even a growing reputation throughout the land!

Luckily, the helmet that the Catha provided him with obscured his identity, so no reports of a rogue and enchantment-wielding Sir Gwaine made their way back to Arthur, as funny as that would be. Still, reports of the "indominable magic knight" that had defeated some of Morgana's most powerful sorcerers made their way across the land, even into Camelot's court. Some council members wished to capture the unknown knight and kill him before he became a threat, while others saw an opportunity to make a powerful ally against Morgana, and Arthur was constantly on the fence between those two arguments while Gwaine sat at the round table, quietly smug.

Meanwhile, Merlin, checking in with the Catha: What's this I hear about a warrior using powerful magic weapons to fight Morganas men?

Alator: Don't worry, Emrys. He's one of ours, fighting against Morgana in your name. He's one of your most devout followers in fact.

Merlin, not wanting to meet another Emrys fanboy who looks at him like he's a god: Uh, just tell him to keep up the good work and to let me know if he needs anything.

Soon after reports of the magic knight made their way to a very conflicted court of Camelot, Morgana sought out the magic knight, ready to either kill him for being such a nuisance or make an ally out of him. After all, surely a knight wielding such powerful magic would never be on the side of Camelot?

However, when Morgana managed to trap the magical knight and surround him with an army of a hundred sorcerers, the knight managed to defeat her and her entire army before escaping. He rained down fire and lightning upon them, the very elements fighting alongside him, as he cut down her army and left her defeated and humiliated.

Of course, reports of Morgana's defeat travelled to Camelot, where the court was even more incensed over the topic of the magical knight. He was capable of beating Morgana, surely he would be a great ally and could ensure Camelot's protection! But he was also now a magic-wielding threat even more powerful than Morgana! Sure he was now the foremost threat to Camelot!

In the end, Arthur and some of his most trusted knights decided to go on a quest to seek out this magical knight. Gwaine wasn't particularly worried, because how could they possibly find him if he was already travelling with them?

During the journey though, they receive word of a magical beast terrorizing nearby villages. The knights all try to fight the beast, but to little success, and it even managed to injure Merlin's leg before escaping!

Merlin's injury turned out to be not life-threatening, but he couldn't stand on his leg for very long. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Merlin entrusted Lancelot with slaying the beast after his injury, enchanting Lancelot's sword so that it could kill a creature of magic and his chainmail so that he wouldn't be hurt by its claws.

Gwaine, meanwhile, was furious with the creature and, that night, summoned his enchanted armor and weapons to go slay the beast and maybe give its head to Merlin as an apology for being unable to stop it from hurting him. Or maybe he would just treat Merlin to a night at the tavern when they got back.

So, Lancelot and Gwaine both tracked down the beast that knight. When they both arrived at the beast's lair with visibly enchanted weapons, they take each other by surprise. Lancelot is on guard, unsure if he wants to trust the now-infamous magic knight, but Gwaine just laughs and removes his helmet, and Lancelot is shocked.

Lancelot and Gwaine seeing each other with enchanted gear: spiderman pointing meme

Gwaine asks Lancelot where he got that enchanted sword, but Lancelot is tight-lipped about it, just saying he got it because he needed to protect Merlin. Gwaine chuckled and said that he understood.

After they finish slaying the beast together, Lancelot asks Gwaine if Merlin knows that he's the magic knight. Gwaine shrugs and says that he suspects that Merlin doesn't know, but wouldn't mind it if Merlin did know.

Lancelot, as soon as they get back to Camelot: So, did you know that Gwaine is actually the magic knight?

Merlin, spitting out his tea and having flashbacks to his conversation with Alator: HE'S WHAT NOW?!

Things get cleared up between Lancelot, Merlin, and Gwaine pretty quickly from there. Gwaine takes the magic reveal very well, excited at the prospect of going on magical adventures with Merlin and glad that his friend can actually defend himself, because he's rubbish with any type of weapon.

From there though, a sort of friendly competition sprung up between Gwaine and Lancelot, as both of them consider themself to be Merlin's best friend. Soon enough, there's two magical knights running around foiling Morgana's plans, and Arthur's ready to tear his hair out over it.

From there, more knights figure out about Merlin's magic and, if they're accepting of it, they also train with the Catha and receive enchanted weapons. It almost becomes its own secret society within the knights, all united with the sole purpose of protecting Merlin. They eventually have Elyan, Percival, and number one Emrys fanboy Mordred join their ranks.

Arthur eventually finds out approximately where the magical knights are hidden (their meeting spot when they need to meet outside of Camelot), and he sends Leon in disguise to infiltrate them, not knowing that they are knights from Camelot. Being the knights of the round table, they of course recognize Leon immediately and give him the full story, and Leon joins them and just tells Arthur that he "couldn't find the magical knights."

Gwaine laughs his ass off at every round table meeting where Arthur becomes more and more frustrated at not being able to catch the magical knights, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Merlin having a good laugh over it too.

And I'll cut it off there for now! I had lots of fun writing this, I feel like I should write about Gwaine more often!

Let me know if you would like me to write a continuation for this au!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[wenellyb]

How I feel about Buddie...

You guys have been warned, this is a long post.

I've always liked 911 and was a casual viewer but never got involved in the fandom or anything. Of course I knew about Buddie, but I personally never saw it. Buck and Eddie have always acted like best friends and do stuff best friends do. I have never seen any scene that could be interpreted as romantic, except maybe for the "you want to go for the title" scene. But to me it wasn't enough to ship them, especially since it was the only scenes in their hundreds of scenes together that could be seen as romantic.

That being said, I've always thought the ship was cute, and I understand it because who doesn't like a good friends to lovers storyline?

I just never got involved in the fandom because their behavior reminded me of the Stucky and Destiel fandom, which were chaotic experiences for me. Some people just don't know how to handle non canon ships and act entitled, complain to the showrunners and harrass the cast. I've always tried to avoid fandoms like that, but wasn't against the idea of Buddie as a ship.

The 911 Lone Star crossover episode for me was the confirmation that Buck was into men. To me, it was obvious they confirmed he was into men but hadn't set up a storyline yet. So naturally I thought... if they set up a storyline it will be with Eddie. There was no doubt it my mind.

So fast forward, a few years, I wasn't really watching season 7 and then I see all the fuss from Buddie shippers I follow, and it makes me watch the sneak peek video from 7x04 and I'm like....For sure Buck is being jealous right? (it was the scene where Eddie interrupted Tommy giving Buck a tour)

So I decided to watch the episode convinced this was going to be the episode where they confirmed Buddie, but I was also very cautious because Buddie shippers had cried wolf too many times before.

So I was careful, but I was also convinced that this was it: "Buck was going to get jealous of Eddie hanging out with Tommy and then confess his feelings or the other way around".

And that's actually what was happening until the end of the episode, we saw Buck get jealous, and most of us assumed he was being jealous about Eddie.

We didn't figure out until the end of the episode that it was all about Tommy.

And that's the beauty of that episode because you think you're watching something when in fact you're watching something else and when you rewatch some scenes you understand it, and that plot twist was written so beautifully.

So we have Buck and Tommy have a heart to heart in Buck's kitchen and they kiss. And what a kiss... the kiss itself was Nice but the look Buck gave Tommy after the kiss was breathtaking.

From that moment on, I was rooting for them.

But I still had Buddie at the back of my mind because I was thinking, what if this is all temporary and they're planning to break them up to set up a buddie storyline? So I shipped it but didn't want to get my hopes up.

This feeling got bigger when I started watching 7x05 and I saw the way their first date ended. I thought... this is it, we might not see Tommy again, what a shame. But then Buck talked to Maddie about his date and confessed it was with Tommy. And Maddie asked: "so tell me about the hot pilot", and I thought this isn't how they'd talk about a character we never see again. But I didn't know for sure.

Maybe they were setting up a Buck x Eddie storyline....

I changed my mind when I saw Buck's coming out scene to Eddie, the scene was beautiful and at that point I still was thinking Buddie was a possibility. But one line made me think that Buddie wasn't happening: "I can't stop thinking about him".

No writer would put a line like that and have Oliver say it like that with that look, if they were thinking Buck and Eddie would have a romantic scene in the future. And if you do write that, you would get a jealous reaction from the other character, not a "You should call Tommy".

And then I was conforted in my feelings when the writers doubled down and had Buck invite Tommy to Maddie's wedding. Buck could have just apologized and asked Tommy on antoher date, but no, he invited him to his sister's wedding.

There has been absolutely no hint of a romantic relationship between Buck and Eddie throughout the season. There has never been a sign of jealousy from Buck or Eddie's side when they were dating Tommy, Marisol. If they had been setting up that storyline, the writers would put some hints here and there. Instead, they shared meaningful scenes like best friends do.

I never had anything againdt Buddie as a ship, I was even open to it, but all the times I thought Buddie was going to happen, it was because of the fandom, not because of something I saw in the saw...To me Buddie is and will stay a fanon ship.

TL:DR: I don't hate the ship, I find it cute but the behavior of some shippers has made me want to stay away from the fandom. And when I thought Buddie might be happening, the writers showed us they had long term plans for Bucktommy.

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Smacking their ass

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Sukuna, Toji, Itadori, Megumi, X Fem!Reader

Genre: Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: Suggestive content, Mild NSFW content on Toji's part cuz he's daddy

Word Count: 0.8K

A/n: For a person who hates her ass to get slapped and loves to slap her man's ass, I'm a bit bold.

↳Sukuna

It wouldn't take him long to notice your small steps approaching him from behind. He can tell how hard you're trying to remain unnoticed from the way you hold your breath and avoid making the slightest noises, and it might have been efficient, really; if you hadn't chosen the wrong person to mess with.

"Don't even think about it"

His serious tune is enough to freeze you in the spot, your eyes twitching with surprises as you watch his figure from behind.

Not even bothering to turn around. Of course.

"I... I was..." "No need to make up excuses, brat. I already know about everything going on in that little head of yours"

He now turns around to show off that playful smirk of his, and you both know that he doesn't need to remind you that you can't play anything funny on the strongest creature in the world. You then gasp when you feel a harsh slap against your butt, which has enough force to make you jump in the spot.

"See? That's how it should be" He gives you one last chuckle before going back to whatever he was doing, leaving you all sulky and unsatisfied with how things turned out in the end.

↳Toji

Years of going to secret missions and slaying people earned him an amazing hearing ability, so he will sense your appearance the minute you step inside the room. You were never good at sneaking up to people, but that doesn't mean he can't pretend like he isn't aware of your presence. He's curious to know what you're planning on, after all.

So when you stand behind him and aim for his butt, you think that you've won; but just a second before your palm lands on his ass, your hands are suddenly seized by his,twisting them so your body falls into his embrace, your back facing his chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" His low pitched whisper against your ear is enough to send shivers down your spin.

"Misbehaving now are we? Well, I guess I don't have any choice but to teach you some manners"

When he slaps your ass for the hundredth time as youre bent over on his lap, you low key regret planning on doing something like this to him; but deep down, you knew it would turn out like this, and you would be lying if you say that your wetness Is caused by something else, not the amount of power he has over you.

↳Megumi

It's a casual date night, you on the couch watching TV as your boyfriend prepares dinner which he got its recipe from Itadori. The only difference is that tonight your favourite show got cancelled and the now the news is being broadcast instead. It's only natural for you to feel bored and peek in the kitchen to check on Megumi, right?

And when you do, you see that everything is clean, the dishes are all washed, a pleasant smell has filled the room, everything is so perfect; yet all that catches your attention is how nice his butt looks from behind as he's standing in front of the cooker.

Target locked, processing attack, three, two, one...

Slap!

"Nice ass man!"

He doesn't have to turn around so you can see his reaction. From how he suddenly froze and his whole body tensed up, you can tell that the poor man is stunned.

When you leave him behind cause apparently, "your job is done", he can clearly hear you burst out into laughter, and he cannot help but to think about how you're going to be the death of him.

↳Itadori

Watching Itadori doing literally anything is pleasant to the eye. The way his muscles protrude against the fabric of his hoodie when he bends to pick up things from the floor has you drooling over the sight. But the thing that's giving you the massivest brainstorm at the moment is, how come you've never noticed how much of a fine ass this man has?

You can't take your eyes off it because, it's right there? In front of you? With nobody touching it???

Maybe God is trying to give you some hints, which you'll gladly pick up.

So when he bends over, again, to reach out for the tray that used to contain sweets, suddenly something hits his ass, not so gently.

Of course the man is shocked; so when he turns around to see who's this trespasser that has violated his privacy, he's met with your huge ass smile and your brightened face.

"Quite a nice ass you got there, my Friend"

Itadori would've thanked you when he got through the whole situation eventually, but all he can think about now is how you called him "Friend" instead of "boyfriend"

Reblogs are appreciated! :)♡

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

PLS EYELESS JACK SMUT PLS PLS PLS I HAVE BEEN CRAVING😭😭😭

Can i request an ej x fem reader where ej saw reader in the woods and followed her back home so he could eat her but got attracted to her instead and wanted to eat her in an different way😏

you can add any kinks man i just want ej😕

ps. thanku and drink water👺

FIRST MEAL - EYELESS JACK

Fandom: Creepypasta

Word Count: 933

Plot: Jack was hungry and when he finally got a taste of you, he realized he didn't need to kill you to feel full.

Warnings: SMUT, stalking, oral (female receiving), honestly pretty vanilla

You and your friends had been exploring the nearby woods since you moved into the neighborhood a couple months ago. Which was absolutely perfect for Jack considering he was getting quite hungry. He had quite the selection between you and your four friends but none of them smelled quite as good as you. To others your scent was regular, average, unnoticeable. But to him, he could smell you from miles away, you were absolutely delicious and it was getting harder and harder to keep himself out of your sight. He kept his distance, following you home, following you throughout your day, watching you and your friends hang out, go to school, work, the works.

At first it was for stalking and killing purposes only. But as he continued he couldn't help but want you for himself.

The neighborhood was quiet, it was a fall night and you often leave your windows open when it's nice weather. He loved how easy you made it for him. Sneaking up and through your second floor window he made his way into your room, making sure to keep quiet as to not wake you up. You slept peacefully in your small bed, your pajama shirt raised just enough so he could see your stomach. He felt his mouth begin to water as he stared. Your soft skin would be a breeze to tear through, and he was sure you'd taste delicious.

In more ways than one.

He looked around your room, rummaging through your belongings, closet, and finally... Drawers. The bottom one had quite the surprise for Jack. A rather large purple dildo with a nice vibrator to match. What a dirty girl you were and he didn't even know. He supposed he hadn't watched you enough... Missions had become quite frequent after all.

It wasn't long until he heard the rustling of your blankets shifting and a soft groan that followed a stretch. Dinner was served.

He turned to look at you, his smirk hidden behind his mask. Your eyes were wide with fear as he pressed his finger to where his lips would be.

"W-who-" You had no words. You couldn't even get out the sentence you wanted to. Who are you?

"No need to worry about that darling." He assured as he moved closer, watching you sink into your pillows trying to get as far away as you could.

You were scared, terrified even. You'd never expected to have a masked man stand over you in your own bedroom.

"I just wanted a little snack. Considering you're close by, convenient, beautiful, and quite the dirty girl... I figured you'd be the one." The smirk was evident in his voice even if his mask hid his expression.

You were frozen, trying to process everything that's just happened in the span of a minute. Wait- Did he just call you beautiful?

He slowly pulled off his mask, placing it on your bedside table and pushing your covers aside. "Now if you'd lay back for me and take off those shorts, I can get to work." He smiled, showing his razor teeth.

"You- You want me?" You asked in disbelief. You felt the fear slowly subside as you realize what he wants. You haven't gotten any since you've moved here and here's a man practically throwing himself at you.

He nodded, looking you up and down as he spoke, "it would all be for you."

You let out a deep breath as you pulled your bottoms off tentatively. The 'all for you' part sold you. Regardless of the black substance oozing from his eyes and his sharp teeth, you did as he said. Leaning back and opening your legs.

You watched him take a deep breath and lick his lips before he leaned down and gave your wet pussy a lick. You tasted better than anything he's ever had before. He knew that he wouldn't be able to kill you, just after the first taste. He was hooked.

He quickly got to work, using his long tongue in ways you'd never experienced before. It was pure bliss as he worked you over. You grabbed his hair harshly as you moaned, pulling him in closer. He let out a low growl at your pull, letting you know that he was in control. He was acting as if he hadn't eaten in years and you'd be his last meal.

Your back arched as he slipped his tongue inside, finding that perfect spot that made you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Your parents were sleeping down the hall after all. He loved the way you reacted to him, to only his tongue. He loved how easy this was. How easy he could get just what he wanted. It wasn't long until he could feel your orgasm coming, the way your thighs squeezed his head and your hips bucked against him.

He licked up every last drop when you came, making you shiver as he pulled away. He stood tall, looming over you as he slipped his mask back on, moving towards the window.

"Wait!" You called breathlessly, probably louder than you should've. "Who are you?" You wanted desperately for him to leave his number or at least a place to find him.

"Whoever you want me to be." He replied, halfway out the window. "I'll be back for another meal soon darling."

Just as fast as he got in, he was out and making his way into the woods as you reached the window. You watched the man go, hoping he'd come back soon to please you once again.

Yes yes yes I love this kind of EJ. Thank you for the request! Also I think this past week has been the most water I've drank in my life, so I hope that makes you happy 😊

[clairdelunelove]

next to you

itadori yuuji x reader

genre: fluff! (classmate!yuuji & transferstudent!reader)

warnings: none

synopsis: the thought of moving schools was disheartening. memorizing a different schedule, acquainting yourself with new people, and leaving your friends behind were factors that you did not look forward to. yet, when you're seated next to a blushy haired male with a sweet smile– you decide that you could get used to it.

a.n. I recently went to an anime convention and got a pic with the cutest itadori cosplayer ever! and unknowingly, upon checking my phone at home, saw that they gave me bunny ears in the pic! so hi jjk fandom! pls take care of me! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

-

-

-

head very full at the thought of itadori yuuji showing you around campus and can't help but have his interest pique at your arrival.

-

moving schools in the middle of the semester was a relatively difficult obstacle to overcome. it was unfortunate. the loss of packing up the life that you had grown into. you missed your old friendships– the ones that had you beaming when you caught a glimpse of your best friend waiting at the school gates or stifling a laugh from their silly jokes during class. initiating conversation was never your strong suit, either. words felt sticky on your lips and you instinctively shut down after the usual pleasantries were said. you felt awkward; and the sentiment radiated off of you in waves which, coincidentally, turned people away. so to say that you weren’t necessarily excited to be acquainted with your professors and classmates was an understatement. you had a new campus to explore, aloof introductions to give, and schedules to memorize. with each passing second your enthusiasm wavered. a frown tugs at your lips as you take a seat at your desk. but when you get a glimpse of golden skin, a beaming smile, and pretty brown eyes— you have a sneaking suspicion that moving wasn’t too terrible. 

classmate!yuuji that puts in the effort to introduce himself to you right when you walk in. he’s extremely polite; a trait that you gather from how he leans over to bow his head to you. almost knocks over his desk from how quick his movements are. light brown eyes flickering to you, his curiosity gets the best of him once the spot next to him is occupied. “looks like my desk partner is here!” he hums while swinging his long legs in your direction so he can directly address you. “itadori yuuji,” he clarifies with a friendly smile, “pleasure to meet you!” and immediately you can tell that he’s charming in the way that has you warming under his vigilant gaze. soft eyes and tender intentions. you straighten in your seat to appear more inviting. hoping to garner a good first impression. anything to catch the interest of your new classmate. and when you introduce yourself through flustered stutters and pauses, he doesn’t seem to mind. no, yuuji just reaches over, slender fingers pointing at the strap of your backpack, and mentions, “cool keychain, by the way.” it’s a clay figure you molded for yourself as a tribute to your favorite- yet totally obscure- movie so the compliment causes your heart to flip at the acknowledgement. can already tell that he’ll be the highlight of your day. and when yuuji hears your sheepish yet overjoyed, “thanks. can't believe you know where it's from,” a beguiling grin curls upon his lips. 

classmate!yuuji that takes the time to show you around the campus even if he’s late to club tryouts. despite his incredible athleticism, he’s not interested in joining any of the school’s clubs but the tryouts were fun. just a small event that brought the school together while crowds of upperclassmen coerced others to become involved. yuuji recalled agreeing to coming out to the track club’s tryouts; probably using his record speed as a persuasion tactic and he didn’t want to go back on his word. yet, he had a small task to take care of first. “and this is where your last class is,” he gestures with a broad smile. he’s currently walking backwards with his hands stuffed in his pockets while you trailed beside him. a couple students actively greeted him and he returned the sentiment with a nonchalant wave or quick fist-bump. the epitome of cool that you could only dream of. fortunately, you both shared a majority of classes together so he’d be there if you ever needed anything. he watches you jot down a careful note on the back of your binder to indicate the location before quickly expressing your gratitude, “thanks so much. really, you’ve helped me so many times today.” it’s true, he’d walked you across the whole campus and pointed out any rooms you may need in the future. his shoulders lift in a shrug, though, like it’s merely common courtesy, “'ts no problem.” his kindness causes a smile to curl upon your lips as you suggest, “is there anything I can do to pay you back? maybe buy you lunch sometime?” it’s a little forward, for your standards, but you can’t help but feel indebted to him. he took your nervousness and transformed it into comfort. unbeknownst to you, yuuji’s battling his own predicament because the light filtering through the window causes you to illuminate. a glowing halo surrounding you. you’re so angelic– long lashes fluttering when you tilt your head up at him. he gulps and clears his throat, “sorry, what was that?” his voice is sheepish and the tone is a little odd coming from someone so assured like he is. can sense the tips of his ears burning at the realization that the transfer student is unfairly pretty. so he shifts his feet while naively confessing, “it’s a little hard to think when you look at me like that.” 

classmate!yuuji that thinks you’re the smartest person he’s ever known. you could be instructing him on how to solve a problem incorrectly but he’d always take your word that you’re right. will gasp and murmur, “oh, I gotta do it like that? got it.” and scribbles down the rest of his answers like how you showed him. gets defensive if someone else rudely tells you that you’re wrong for following a different format. his brows would furrow, bewildered when the blame is automatically placed on you since you were the transfer student. “(y/n) taught me this way and I got it right,” he’d mention while pressing his lips together, “so both ways work. nothin’ wrong with that.” the finality of his words usually do the trick to shut down any arguments. you even end up spending more time with yuuji outside of class. he’ll find you in some desolate corner of the library, buried in a textbook, and ends up canceling his plans so he can study with you. strolls in with a beaming smile and a quick wave of his hand. lightly chuckles when he recognizes how you hastily tidy your miscellaneous papers and pens. however, your studying sessions become a bit more talkative whenever he drops in. eagerly chatting about the latest tv shows that he’s been watching. “I like that one a lot too,” a smile graces your face as you clasp your hands together, “can’t wait for the new season to come out. I think it’s coming out in a couple months. april, maybe?” “yeah, april!” yuuji repeats and presses the tip of his pen to his lips while pondering, “wonder if the villain will come back during that time.” it’s irrational but seemingly minor moments like these were significant to you. and a pleased warmth spread within you at the fact that you shared some hobbies with your blushy haired classmate. if exams rolled around, though, the two of you put immense effort into studying. with yuuji dutifully reading his textbook next to you, you’re about to commit to your own studying when he lets out a sudden exhale, “this is so boring! I can’t do this.” he shifts in his seat, trying to get more comfortable, but unknowingly knocks his knee against yours. you’re giggling at his dilemma, however. “maybe you need a break or I could try helping. is it science?” it’s phrased like a question because you’re uncertain of how much help you’d be. yet, he defeatedly slouches in his seat and huffs, “help, please. you’re the smartest person I know.” and when you turn to him, you’re greeted by his wide, puppy-dog eyes for good measure. “woah,” you grin while gently pushing at his face, “don’t need to pull that move on me, mister.” yuuji yelps, reaching up to enclose his hand over yours before gleefully laughing, “it’s my secret weapon though!” and the rest of the session is filled with teasing smiles, soft nudges, and knowing hushes. 

classmate!yuuji that greets you, without fail, every morning. he could be slouched over, scrolling through his phone, or idly chatting with friends– just occupied in his own circle of friends. it only took you a week to recognize that your blushy haired classmate was quite popular amongst your colleagues. well, he’s not necessarily labeled as ‘popular,’ but rather favored and admired. yuuji’s known to step in and dissolve petty arguments between other students or help a teacher without squabbling. carrying and passing out heavy textbooks to different classes with a polite smile. it was difficult to find someone that outwardly disliked him. no one had a reason to. students, upperclassmen and underclassmen alike, flocked to him whenever there were openings in school clubs. but he always gently declines with a dismissive wave of his hand before returning to flip through his comic book. yet, when you come scampering in the class, he visibly perks up. and as embarrassing as it is, your classmates know that whatever they utter to yuuji will just go over his head when you walk in. his bright eyes land on you as you settle in the seat next to him. “hey!” he greets with a tilt of his head, “g’morning!” right when you turn to him, he slides the book closed and rests his chin on his hand. gives you his undivided attention. the movement causes your eyes to catch that the sleeves of his dark sweatshirt are tugged upward and you knowingly shake your head. “don’t tell me you helped rearrange the desks before class again,” you teasingly chastised with an intentional glance to his calloused hands, “but good morning, yuu.” already your closest friend, the nickname for him was only natural. and yuuji never deterred you from using it– if anything, he was fond of it. causes a smile to break upon his face. it seemed like you caught him because he abruptly pulled away to scratch at the back of his neck, “hm, I had to.” then, he scoots closer to you before explaining with a playful grin, “besides, sensei let me keep the spot next to you because of it.” and as you desperately attempt to fight off the heat that floods your face, yuuji just shoots you another sweet smile. 

[bad268]

HELLO

I'm in love with ur arvid linblad stories...

Could u please do one where its the first time he brings reader to a race and shes a bit shy and the other guys are teasing him abt it cos they didn't think he could pull someone and then they see how cute they are

+ Heyy I loved ur arvid linblad x reader!!

Could u do one where he is super excited for Silverstone and no one knows why until the weekend where he walks in with his gf and all the prema guys are surprised and then they see how cute they are together. -@romantic-stylezz

Passenger Princess (Arvid Lindblad X Fem! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (HELLO THANK YOU ILY BOTH <3 I hope yall don't mind that I combined these)

Warnings: Aged up Arvid (and Dino, Gabriele, Sebastian, Luke, Laurens, and Tim by association)

POV: Third Person (She/her)

W.C. 1424

Summary: Arvid's friends didn't think he could pull her.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^@/Arvid’s insta from May 26, 2024)

Every British driver was excited for Silverstone, but Dino was convinced that Arvid was a little over the top. Dino could not figure it out for the life of him, and Arvid did not peg him as the ultra-patriotic type. Dino was going to get to the bottom of it.

When they arrived in the United Kingdom, it was like Arvid disappeared anytime they were not at the track. Dino even tried looking around the hotel for Arvid, but he was just gone. The team didn’t know either. They just assumed he was staying with family.

Media day came around, and Arvid came running into the trailer almost late. He tried his best to sneak in through the back, but Dino caught him immediately.

“So you think that since you’re at your home race, you can sleep in and stay with your family longer?” Dino chuckled as he shoved against Arvid’s shoulder. Dino didn’t notice the blush spreading on Arvid’s cheeks as he continued teasing. “Did you enjoy a calm morning and breakfast with your family? Are they gonna come pick you up after too for supper?”

“Actually, my morning was pretty hectic,” Arvid chuckled as he walked in step with Dino for the track walk. “My alarm didn’t go off, so I didn’t wake up my girlfriend for her test-”

“Woah, don’t get all delusional on me,” Dino joked, “You’ve never mentioned a girlfriend before.”

“No one’s ever asked,” Arvid shrugged as he ran to catch up with his engineer to look over data. Dino didn’t even have a chance to question it. Did he believe it? No. Did he think it was a cheap coverup? Oh yeah, Dino just needed to get to the bottom of it.

They didn’t have a free chance until they were wrapping up after qualifying. Both of them did well, qualifying first (Arvid) and third (Dino). They had just finished up the debrief, and Arvid dipped out faster than any of the team could blink. It wasn’t until Dino went out to the employee parking lot with Gabriele and Sebastian that he saw Arvid still hanging around. Dino was about to run up and scare him, but he noticed Arvid was on the phone. Like a normal group of friends, they all decided to listen in on his call.

“Qualifying was good,” He chuckled as he kicked at a few rocks on the asphalt. He paused for a second before chuckling again, “Yes. I know. Thank you, lovey.” The boys were confused. Who the hell was he talking to? Maybe Arvid wasn’t talking out of his ass about a girlfriend earlier in the week. The trio looked between each other before Arvid started talking again. “Are you almost here? We can go out tonight and celebrate your test…Okay, I’ll let you drive safely for the rest of the way. I have to confront some eavesdroppers. I’ll see you when you get here. I love you.”

Busted, they all thought. 

Arvid hung up the phone with his beloved girlfriend, who he would have rather talked to for eternity, but he also knew his friends would have questions. He can understand why. He never mentioned a girlfriend, nor has he mentioned any interest in a girl. It’s mainly because he always had you, and he never felt the need to say anything. Also, no one asked him about a girlfriend.

Now, he was going to come clean. 

“You can ask now,” Arvid sighed as he turned around and looked straight at the group of three.

“Who, what, when, where, why,” Dino rattled off quickly as he approached Arvid.

“And how!” Sebastian shouted running to catch up with Dino and Arvid, leaving Gabriele to calmly walk over on his own. “I need the tea!”

“Who, her name is Y/n. What, she’s my my girlfriend. When, since 2022. Where and why, I don’t know the questions,” Arvid rattled back quickly as all three boys surrounded him.

“Where you met and why you hid it, obviously,” Gabriele stated in a blatant tone. 

“We grew up together. She was my neighbor for the longest time, and when I left for the Italian F4 championship, she confessed and ended up joining me toward the end of the season. Why I didn’t tell you, you didn’t ask.”

“You two were dating when we were F3 teammates, and I didn’t even know?”

“She confessed first? That’s cute.”

“Why are we just now finding out?”

“Tough luck,” Arvid laughed as he started going through the follow-up questions of his friends. “Yeah, she confessed. Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just I thought you would have been the one to confess,” Sebastian replied quickly, thinking he offended Arvid. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Arvid chuckled, “And you’re just now finding out because you decided to listen in on my phone call now. If you would have waited about 12 more hours, you would’ve met her in person.”

“Is this her first race?” Dino asked still in shock.

“No, did you not listen?” Arvid teased. “She came for the last half of my Italian F4 season in 2022, and a couple of F4 and Euro 4 races in 2023. Whatever ones she could do with her schedule since she was still in secondary school. She was also at the MACAU race in 2023, I forgot about that.”

“So she just didn’t come to your first or second F3 seasons?” Dino didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but he was confused. Just as Arvid was getting ready to reply, a car honking caught all of their attention. The driver rolled down their window, they were met with a random girl except she wasn’t random to Arvid.

“It’s a lot easier to go to European races than it is to go everywhere, especially during my last years of secondary school,” She said with a laugh. “Do you boys need a ride? I’ve got space. It’s not some fancy car, but it gets the job done.”

She wasn’t kidding. Her old Honda Civic looked like it had seen better days, but it still ran, and that’s what mattered. Arvid shook his head dismissively as he walked around to the passenger side.

“Oh, first you say she confessed, and now you’re saying you’re the passenger princess? That’s crazy,” Sebastian teased as he walked up to the door.

“Passenger princess and proud,” Arvid boasted as he immediately took over the music. “Are you guys getting in or not?”

“Hold up, I’m still wrapping my head around this.”

“Dino, either get in the car, and we’ll drop you off at the hotel or we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ok, I’m getting in.”

The following day, the talk of the F2 paddock was that Arvid had a girlfriend. Once again, no one believed it. Dino was the one running around telling anyone who would listen, and they definitely thought he was going crazy. Sebastian and Gabriele weren’t making a big deal, so everyone thought Dino was making it up. There was no way Arvid had a girlfriend. He was the type to want to flaunt a girlfriend if he had one, so clearly, he didn’t have one. It wasn’t until the two walked into the paddock that, suddenly, everyone went quiet.

Arvid walked through the scanner in his Red Bull kit and waited for Y/n to scan her pass. It was obvious to everyone that the Prema kit she was wearing was not her own. Once she got through, her hand was in Arvid’s as he led her to the Prema trailer. No one could believe their eyes.

Dino stood off to the side with a couple of drivers as they all watched the two lovers laugh at something before disappearing in the trailer.

“I don’t get it,” Luke cleared the air as he still focused on the now-closed door they went in. “I don’t believe they’re together.”

“Yeah,” Laurens chuckled in agreement. “I don’t see him as the type to pull her.”

“Oh, just wait until you find out the racing driver is a passenger princess,” Dino chuckled off-handedly as he started to walk away.

“You are lying!” Tim shouted after him, wanting to hear more details.

“Nope,” Dino stated with a pop. “I’m not spilling everything. You all thought I was lying about his girlfriend! Why would I give you more tea?”

“Fine, I’ll just ask Sebastian,” Tim shrugged off as he walked off with Laurens and Luke following closely behind him.

“No!” Dino shouted as he ran after them. “Wait for me!”

~~~ Part 2->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[misssakuramochi]

NOT QUITE REQUITED

In which the reader confesses to Alastor, not quite knowing what to expect

Fandom; Hazbin Hotel

Genre; Fluff (I guess)

Characters; Alastor, Reader

Pairing; One sided!ReaderxAlastor

a/n; I did my best on aroace!Alastor, but please feel free to give me any feedback you may have on writing an aroace person more accurately ❤️

---

Demonic ears perked, twitching ever so slightly as they picked up on the sound of soft footsteps coming their way. Each step was careful, near silent, as the demon behind them tried oh so desperately not to interrupt.

Normally this would alarm Alastor - he didn't become the ever famed (or perhaps innfamous) radio demon without pushing a few buttons. But, between the sound of the footsteps and the soft whispering that became apparent as it got closer, it wasn't difficult for Alastor to figure out just who was sneaking up behind him.

"Hello there, my dear." Head turning fully a moment before the rest of his body swung to match, Alastor met your surprised expression with his usual ear-to-ear grin. It made you jump, just a little, and yet you couldn't help but find the uncanny nature of the demon before you charming.

"Hi! Um, that is to say good evening. I was hoping you might have a quick moment to chat?" Alastor fed on the anxiety in your voice. It was pathetic in a way he found delictibly adorable, in his own way. Meek as you had begun, this was perhaps the boldest you'd been in your 5 attempts to tell the overlord of your feelings. At least, it was until you opened your mouth again.

"Unless you're busy! Of course that's fine, if you're busy I can come back later--" Alastor's smile twitched upwards, shifting for a moment from friendly to uncanny valley as he resisted the urge to chuckle. It was amusing, really, how shy you were-- how you thought for even a moment that he hadn't long since seen through you and your intentions.

"Too busy? For you?" The way you stopped dead, already pink, made Alastor want to eat you right up, "Never! Come now, tell me what it is you need." Speaking as if he didnt already know, Alastor's arm wrapped around your shoulder. He could feel you turn to lead under even the simplest of his touches, and he allowed himself to relish in the feeling of power for just a moment.

Leading you with a little more difficulty than anticipated towards the office he'd taken use of while in the hotel, you moved stiffly.

You found yourself almost unable to breathe this close to Alastor. About to confess in a way that you had imagined a thousand times, each another way it could go spectacularly wrong, your heart had fallen into your stomach. It sat like a lump, making you nauseous.

You'd tried this already, more times than yoy cared to count. Each time you'd found a reason not to confess. Each time, you'd scolded yourself for your cowardice. You couldn't let yourself down like that again.

"Now," you'd arrived at the office before you knew it, Alastor quickly ushering you onto one of the stools adjacent his desk before finding his place at the almost regal chair behind the desk, "What was it thay you needed from me?"

The way his voice lowered, eyes narrowed, made the lump in your throat almost impossible to speak around. He was trying to read you, discern out your real intentions. You knew him well enough to know when those eyes eyes were calculating.

It was strange to say the least that you had seemingly fallen so innocently for him. At least, Alastor thought so. After all, you, loathe as he was to admit it, knew him better than most. But, he supposed that strange as people often saw him as, you were... well, rather quirky yourself. That, and Alastor knew you - being able to read you like  a book was one of the reasons he'd let you get so close.

Ego and caution battled in Alastors brain as he half-listened to you ramble on, thanking him for his time as you tried to work up the nerve to say what you really meant.

"What I mean to say is... I kind of... well, really like you Alastor." There it was. Part of Alastor was relieved-- after all, on the one hand, he had been waiting nearly a month now for you to finally make your confession plainly rather than dancing around him like a sore subject. The other part, however, couldn't help but tense: because on the other hand, he had been dreading this encounter in equal measure to his expectation of it.

It wasn't that Alastor didn't like you, exactly - at least, in his own way. But love... well, even if he particularly wanted to he couldn't love you quite the way you would him. Or course, there was no way you could know this - personal facts were something Alastor kept close to his chest.

The way Alastor chucked, deep and less malicious than usual, set butterflies in your stomach. Their dance made you feel all the sicker, heart racing in an anticipatory fluster as clawed hands ruffled your hair.

"I am the beloved radio demon after all." Alastor could tell he hadn't quite nailed that landing when he felt you cringe at his words. Undeterred, his smile remained unchanged as he took back his hand and clasped it together with the other behind his back.

"So? What is it you're looking for then my dear?" The way Alastor sat across from you, leaning back and letting his hands rest into a steepled position made you feel like you were in a business deal.

"Um, I guess..." It was a question you didn't really know how to answer. What did you want out of this interaction? Of course, in your wildest fantasies you knew what you wanted -- to form a relationship. But this was Alastor, enigma extraordinaire. You had no idea how the man truly felt about anything let alone the idea of being in a romantic partnership. You could dream, perhaps, of a future by the demons side, but what did you realistically expect?

"I guess I just wanted to tell you. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I thought you deserved to know." Alastor blinked slowly, oke eye before the other. You'd done something extrodinsrially rare in this moment - you'd surprised him.

Unused to genuine connection, to kindness, especially whilst literally in hell with the actual worst of people, Alastor hadn't expected your reasoning to be so... selfless. Or benign. It was strange, and yet he couldn't help but feel his smile tug upwards, just a little. It was... amusing. It reminded him why he'd helped you find your way to the hotel in the first place.

"Well then thank you for telling me!" It would be a lie to say the lack of response didn't stirr a pot of disappointment in your gut. But, the way Alastor smiled at you, judgement free and unchanged, made you smile, "Now was there anything else?"

You couldn't help but laugh at how casual Alastor sounded, as if you hadn't just taken perhaps the biggest risk in your afterlife. Even as he tilted his head, not quite understanding your joviality, you simply smiled.

"Never change, Alastor."

[captainsophiestark]

Star-Crossed Agents

Grant Ward x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Grant's SO is part of SciTech, which means they have to sneak around a little bit to hang out, and with the end of their Academy careers approaching it's harder than ever to find time for each other

Word Count: 1,485

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I took a deep breath in and then let it out, slow and heavy in a massive sigh. I'd been staring at my laptop for what felt like an eternity, and I was about to truly and completely lose it.

I snapped out of my thousand yard stare at the screen two feet in front of me at the sound of my dorm window sliding open. I shot up from my desk and whirled around only to find my boyfriend, Grant Ward, hanging out of my window.

"You gave me a heart attack," I said by way of hello as I rushed to the window to help him the rest of the way through. He had takeout containers in one hand, which I immediately took to make sure he wouldn't drop them. I turned to set them on my desk, and by the time I returned to Grant, he'd made it all the way through my window and stood in the middle of my room with his hands on his hips.

"Really? You went for the food before me?"

I just shrugged and grinned at him. "You're a Specialist in the top of your class. I figured you'd be able to handle it, especially since you've done it a thousand times before."

He sighed, but didn't waste another second before crossing the room to kiss me either. His arms wound their way around my waist as he pulled me to him, and I brushed one hand against his cheek before gently pulling back.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I don't think I'm gonna be a very good date tonight. Between trying to finish out the SciTech-Ops prank war and my final thesis project being due in just a few months, I'm probably going to have to mostly do work tonight."

"I don't mind helping you with SciTech pranks, if that's what you're working on," said Grant as we walked to my desk together, sitting shoulder to shoulder. "Why don't you open up your notes on that, and let me see all the things you have planned."

I scoffed. "I thought Specialists were supposed to be better at getting information out of people than that."

Grant fixed me with a look and put his hands on the arms of my chair, slowly leaning in until his face was inches from mine, effectively pinning me to the spot.

"I bet I could get you to give up some secrets if I tried."

I leaned in, closing the distance between us until our lips were barely a hair's breadth apart. Then I smiled.

"Nice try, but I'm already betraying my entire school by dating you. No way I'm giving the Ops kids an edge in the prank war. And no way I'm letting you distract me, either, I have work to do."

Grant sighed, but when he leaned in for a kiss it was just a quick peck before he sat back in his own chair.

"Fine. We don't really need your help to win, anyway. We've got this in the bag."

"Mhmm. And you just keep telling yourself that, Superspy."

Grant and I shared a grin as he dished up our food and I reluctantly turned back to my laptop. Leaning against Grant and having him here, especially with some of my favorite food, made trying to work less frustrating. But it didn't magically spark any inspiration or ideas like I'd hoped it would.

After we finished dinner, Grant crossed the room to kick back on my bed and cracked open a book while I kept trying to make my brain work. I stared at the computer screen, just trying to get some kind of brainstorm to start. I felt a headache coming on with every passing moment, and my brain started to feel literally heavy, like thick fog was just sitting up there, weighing me down. My eyes squinted against the glare of the screen, and still I didn't move, scanning over my notes like they might magically add some insight that they hadn't before.

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder, then turned with bleary eyes to find Grant had returned to sit next to me, a worried expression on his face.

"Are you alright? You were starting to look like a zombie over here."

"Yeah, yeah, just... waiting for inspiration to strike."

"...And how's that going?"

"Uh. Not well."

Grant huffed a laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile as he pulled me a little closer to his side.

"Then I think it's time we take a break together."

I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder. Truly all I wanted to do was spend time with him, without anything SHIELD-related hanging over our heads, but final tests were coming soon and I really didn't have a moment to spare.

"I don't think I can, Grant. Everything I've been working for since the day I got here all comes down to this project. I have to make sure it's perfect."

"Right now you're not going to be able to make anything perfect."

I pulled back, mouth dropping open as I glared at him, but he just stared right back with the frank appraisal of a Specialist that I both loved and hated.

"Your brain is clearly fried from working on this for too long. Anything you put down now is just going to be something you have to go back and fix later. I've seen it before, from new Ops recruits and from you. You need a break. If you take one, odds are you're going to have a much easier time brainstorming and working things through after you spend some time not thinking about this project. It'll be faster and better than anything you might manage to force out now."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That... actually kind of makes sense..."

"I know it does. It's because I'm right." I scoffed, but Grant ignored it, instead leaning forward and resting a hand on my thigh. "Besides, the next month or so is going to be hell for both of us. Between your final projects and all of my practical exams before we graduate... I'm barely going to have time to see you. So we should enjoy the time we have now, while we still can."

I sighed, leaning forward and raising one hand to rest at the nape of Grant's neck, gently touching my forehead to his.

"I don't like to think about that," I admitted. "Or about how much harder it's going to be to stay together when you're out in the field and I'm in the Hub or the Triskelion doing work."

"I know. I hate thinking about that too."

We fell into silence for a few moments, the uncertainty of both of our futures hanging over us. Grant's grip on me tightened slightly, and I sighed. He was right. I needed a break, and I needed to enjoy every moment I could get while it was just the two of us like this.

"You know what? I think we'll be fine," I said, straightening up enough to meet Grant's eyes. "If we can make it work as two people from rival SHIELD schools dating each other? Like a more intense version of Romeo and Juliet? Then I think we're gonna be just fine, no matter what the rest of the world tries to throw at us."

"...You know Romeo and Juliet ended pretty badly for both of them-"

"I know! I was just trying to make a point, we're from aggressively rival groups and we're finding love anyway. Just... ignore the ending."

Grant chuckled. "Alright. So does this mean you're going to take a break with me?"

"Yes, it does. Come on, let's watch some terrible tv and eat the chocolate I keep in the bottom drawer of my desk for emergencies and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist."

Grant smiled, catching my chin before I could move away and pulling me back to him for a long, deep kiss. When we finally broke apart, I was breathing hard and grinning like an idiot at the man before me. I really, really loved him, even though when he finally spoke he said:

"Anything but Love Island."

"What! Grant, come on. We were almost done with the last season! We have to get caught up before the new one starts."

"No way. I'll watch anything but that."

"...Anything?"

He sighed. "This is gonna be a long night, isn't it?"

I just grinned at him. It was fun to give him a hard time, but at the end of the day, I was happy doing anything as long as I got to do it with him. And I knew he felt exactly the same way. We'd make it work, from picking a tv show tonight to whatever our futures might have in store for us after this.

*****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten @coinsublime @sagesmelts

If your blog is crossed out, it's because Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason

[stevestark]

🎃+ Stranger Things

🎃 - “we accidentally matched costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating” send me an emoji + a fandom and I'll write you a mini fic!

Steve stares at the clothing Robin has laid out on his bed, a frown on his face. "Seriously, Rob? Do I have to wear this?"

"A bet's a bet, dingus," Robin says. "You're the dumbass who bet me that I couldn't get Vickie to do a keg stand last weekend, and you agreed that if she did, I get to choose your costume."

"Yeah," Steve says, "but a dress?"

"Aww, don't worry, Stevie," Robin croons. "You've totally got the legs for it."

Steve sighs and picks up the dress. "Fine. But I draw the line at makeup. I will not be totally embarrassed in my own home."

Robin cackles with glee and shoves Steve toward his bathroom. "This is going to be amazing."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie opens the door to the trailer right as Dustin lifts his hand to pound on it again; "Chill out, dude. I heard you the first time. Knock any louder, and you're gonna crack the windows."

"Sorry," Dustin says, not sounding at all apologetic. "But this hay is really heavy and I still have to go get my costume on for Steve's party."

Eddie grins, taking the armful from Dustin. "Thanks, man. How'd you get your hands on so much anyway?"

Dustin shrugs, and says, "My mom's like, super into crafting these days. She made all our Halloween decorations this year, and this was all her leftovers."

"Sick. Okay, scram, I got it from here. Tell your mom I said thanks."

"Tell her yourself. She's waiting in the car."

Eddie perks up immediately. "I thought you were having Nancy bring you? Why didn't you say Mama Henderson was here?" he asks, running outside to go give Mrs. Henderson a squeeze.

Dustin ambles along behind him muttering the whole time about how everyone always likes his mom more than him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The party starts at 8pm sharp, which naturally means everyone shows up at 8:30; Steve has different music playing in every room, loud enough so you can hear it but not so loud that they drown each other out. He's got a few kegs, and a shitload of soda, and Hopper and Joyce are on their way, prepared to watch the kids to make sure none of them try to sneak any booze.

The doorbell rings, and Robin races him to the door, flinging it open excitedly. All of the kids, plus Joyce and Hopper are gathered on the front walk, chattering excitedly and fawning over each others' costumes.

"Okay, okay," Robin says, "Let's get this party going!" Joyce gives her a hug as she walks in and compliments her Bowie costume, and Hopper grunts as he passes; if Robin had to bet, she'd guess Joyce forced him into their couple's costume of The Dread Pirate Roberts and Princess Buttercup, but they look cute as hell so she doesn't know why he's so mad.

The kids are an eclectic bunch of costumes, with Max and El as the twins from The Shining, Dustin as Marty McFly, Mike, Will, and Lucas as the three male leads from The Breakfast Club; Jonathan and Nancy are dressed as Princess Leia and Han Solo, Argyle is Tommy Chong, and Eddie is...oh my God.

Robin throws back her head and cackles at the sight of Eddie dressed as The Scarecrow. "Oh my God. Oh my God, this is too good."

Eddie makes a dramatic show of stumbling through the door and gives a bow. "I figured I'm already stumbling around all the time, might as well make it work in my favor."

Robin just laughs some more, and drags Eddie into the kitchen, where Steve is explaining the drinks situation to Hopper and Joyce.

Eddie stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Steve in sparkly kitten heels and a knee-length checkered dress. "Holy shit."

Steve stops mid-sentence and looks up at Eddie; "Robin? Now might be a good time for you to run."

Robin darts behind Hopper, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and poking her head around his side. "I swear, Steve, I had no idea."

Joyce and Hopper are fighting back laughter, and Eddie is still staring open-mouthed at Steve.

"So you're telling me we accidentally wore a couple's costume?"

Eddie shakes his head and grins at Steve. "Ah, a true Wizard of Oz connoisseur, acknowledging the long-ignored sexual tension between Dorothy Gale and The Scarecrow."

Hopper actually chokes at that, and tries to mask it as a cough; he reaches behind himself and pulls Robin out from behind him. "So," he says, mirth coloring his tone. "You're the reason Harrington is stumbling around in heels?"

Robin nods, trying not to laugh. "He lost a bet."

Joyce shakes her head fondly and pats Steve on the shoulder. "You've got the legs for it, honey," she says kindly.

"That's what I said!" Robin yells, gesturing at Steve's admittedly toned calves.

"I hate everyone in this kitchen," Steve grumbles, heading to open the door as more guests arrive.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The party gets underway, and everyone is having a good time; Hopper and Joyce are vigilantly holding court in the kitchen, to the kids' dismay, but Robin just shushes them and passes a single cup of beer for them to pass around. Each of them takes a sip and scrunches their noses, shaking their heads; "That's vile," Max says, spitting her sip back into the cup. Robin grins and gives Steve a thumbs up from across the room; they knew if they gave the kids shitty beer they'd lose all interest in drinking.

Steve is standing with Argyle, who's waxing poetic to him about the impact Cheech and Chong have had on society, and trying to look interested; Eddie is on the other side of the room, debating Star Wars with Jonathan and Nancy; the members of Corroded Coffin are dancing with Robin's band friends, and everyone is having a really good time, which is a welcome relief in the wake of finally defeating the monsters in their town.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

At the end of the night, Hopper and Joyce round up all the kids and drive them home in shifts; Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, and Eddie are all too tipsy to drive, and have announced they're sleeping over at Steve's to help him and Robin clean up.

As they're doing so, collecting red solo cups and candy wrappers in each room, Eddie sidles up to Steve.

"Surprised you're still wearing the shoes," he says, a sly grin on his face.

"They're not so uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours," Steve says with a shrug.

"You know," Eddie says slowly. "Everyone was asking me tonight when I finally made a move on you. Nobody seemed to believe we didn't match our costumes on purpose."

Steve laughs softly. "Yeah, I got the same treatment all night."

Eddie inches closer to Steve, crowding him against the dining room table. "Well," he drawls. "Maybe we should take their advice?"

Steve looks sharply up at Eddie. "W...what?"

Eddie lifts his hand to gently fix Steve's Dorothy wig. "I mean, come on, Steve. We spend all our time together anyway. What's the difference in that and just...throwing in a little making out?"

Steve flushes and ducks his head. "Didn't think you were interested."

"Baby," Eddie says, tipping Steve's head back up with a finger under his chin. "I've been flirting with you relentlessly for weeks."

Steve blinks rapidly and then crushes his lips against Eddie's. "Thank god," he says breathlessly when they pull apart. "Kinda pissed I had to wear a dress for you to make a move though."

Eddie laughs, loud and bright. "Steve, you could've worn a burlap sack and I'd still have a hard time not kissing you in front of everyone. I've been dying to do this."

Robin walks in right then and throws her fists up in victory. "FINALLY!" she screeches. "GUYS! It happened!"

"I hate all of you," Eddie and Steve say in unison as everyone runs in, catcalling them.

"Is now a bad time to say I knew what Eddie was dressing as and that Vickie had been practicing her keg stands and that this whole thing was an elaborate plot?" Robin asks, smirking triumphantly.

Steve freezes and narrows his eyes at Robin. "Hopper's not here to protect you now, Buckley," he says, lunging towards her and chasing her through his house as she cackles.

[killershrike]

ok guys here's a tiny sneak peek at a section in chapter 7 of dark suspension. just because languages are one of my autistic special interests lol I thought this might be fun to share to the fandom. I finally figured out how I imagine yautja to speak to one other, outside of human translation or you're reading two yautja converse in my fic. This is a COMPLETELY UNEDITED SECTION please do not think this is the final draft lol this is just the bare bones I thought would be neat to share

Han-e'sain's POV:

"Can I ask a question?" So-yin hums from his side, and the yautja rumbles in approval. He nods. "How did you get so good at English? No offense, I know you're smart. You just picked it up so fast-"

The warrior laughs, reaching out to rub her back in an easing way. "No offense, little one." Ghost assures her before continuing. "This device," He gestured to his gauntlet. "combined with my bio-mask allows me to trandlate any language to yautja. I can also search for specific things, translations, whatever I want." The woman looks astounded.

“While you slept and I could not sleep, I would study the ooman language." So-yin nods.

“You said it was kinda easy, right?” 

Ghost chuckles. “Yes. Now, no offense to you, little one, but there are species out there that do not even use words to communicate. Only facial expressions, gestures, sounds. Your ooman language is not so hard.” She considers the thought, looking intrigued and interested before getting herself back on tack, pretty green eyes focused back on Ghost.

“Too me, that hardest parts were identifying the correct region. And translating my language to you. It was.. very difficult. I probably sounded very stupid at first." The yautja even clicks, looking down at ground in embarrassment.

So-yin reachs out to teasingly tug a long dreadlock, smiling. “No, you didn't. You sounded better than a lot of other humans ive spoken to.” She giggles. “What was so hard about the translation?”

Ghost had to think for a long moment, trying to find the right words that weren't overly complicated for his sweet human. “The structure of your language versus ours. Very few ooman languages operate like yautja. We have an.. usual word order if i attempted to directly translate from my language, without added context or interpretation.” The woman looks even more curious now, and the yautja rumbles with humor as they walk.

“How's the structure different? I'm no writer or anything, I know plants more than I know language. But I'm curious.” A soft hand reaches out to grab onto his, managing to grip only three thick fingers in her small human hand.

Her lover rumbles on, "Yautja place the object of a sentence first. Then the verb, then the subject.” When So-yin tilts her head in confusion, Han-e’sain chatters in amusement. Her scrunched up button nose with a thick gold ring hanging from it was just too adorable.

Leaning down to pluck a vibrant pink and white striped flower, he holds it out to her. So-yin takes it, closing her eyes and inahling deeply before tucking it behind her ear, meeting Ghost's gaze again.

“Flower to her gave I.” He rumbles. “You would say something like, I gave the flower to her." Ghost clicks, with a little annoyance. "In my head, I kept switching the words around. It took me time to sound out the correct ooman sentence, in my mind."

So-yin understands, giggling now. Raising his hand and pressing a warm, soft kiss to it, she murmurs. "Love to him gave I?" The look of unsurity makes the yautja burst into deep, loving laughter.

"Very good, little one. You will speak yautja in no time." The rumble ends with a deep kiss.

-------

Anyways, I entirely based the structure off of Klingon! Object first, then the verb, then the subject.

So if you wanted to say something like "I gave him a book." It would translate to "Book to him gave I."

As we place the object (book), before the verb (gave), and then the subject (I.) Hopefully that makes sense and is interesting for any of my other language nerds lmao I know it's not that deep or complex or cool but I just thought it was Kinda Neat

[spiralinghours]

“Filth”

Fandom: Saw (obviously)

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Peter Strahm

Rating: R (18+!!!)

Warnings/Content: humiliation, degradation, pig mask!, slight pig play (basically animal-esque name calling and degradation), feeding kink, weight gain kink mention, untouched release, mentions of eventual penetration and oral

Summary: Set during V while Strahm sneaks around the Gideon meat packing plant. After being attacked in the back halls, but before ever getting put in a trap, he identifies his captor… and it takes a sexually charged turn.

Author’s note: There’s not much plot to this and yes, you may read it and go “Why would they suddenly do that?” Because it was written on a very excited whim. Idk, comments welcome I guess? I dunno if I left anything out. Enjoy.

Upon sliding back into consciousness, Peter experienced the sudden dreadful rush of not knowing where he was, how long he had been out… how and why he was knocked out to begin with. Whatever had done him in had tranquilized him into a dreamy fuzz, even as he woke. The point of impact was making the dull soreness start to throb on the side of his neck, just between the thin, tight strings of muscle. An injection, that was it.

Fitting every little bit together, Peter noted that he sat upon a rolling office chair that looked and felt like it had been fished out of a dumpster. He wasn’t fastened down (yet, he warned himself, thankful just the same), but it looked as if someone was prepping him for something. His tie had disappeared… probably in the pile off a little ways where his knife, gun, badge, and wallet sat, like a QVC shopping display. With his buttons undone, chest haphazardly exposed, he wondered what procedure was connected to the strange tank hovering nearby.

Something else in the room had moved, though everything blended together into neutral obscurity. Still, whatever—whoever—it was was too late to leave or go unnoticed.

“Shit,” it murmured. It had a voice… a quiet and somewhat rough, familiar one.

“Wait…” Peter mirrored the low whisper. “I know… I know who you are!”

It was coming back, slipping into the correct cracks of fading memory. A masked figure, not as tall as himself but imposing no less, had stopped him as he descended down that back hallway in the meat packing plant. ‘Stopped him,’ Peter scoffed. Stabbed him, injected him, more like. He knew better, and this is what he got for proceeding without the patience for backup.

But the figure that brought him here had to be who was mumbling around in the darkness right across from Strahm. That wasn’t the only point of familiarity. The voice could be placed, Peter just knew, he just—

“Detective,” he breathed out, question mark hanging with uncertainty.

No response just yet, which had to mean he knew he was caught.

As Peter’s eyes adjusted to the silhouettes, he recognized how well the form did in fact match Detective Mark Hoffman’s sturdy, stout build. The fact that the previously unnamed figure had started shedding his bulky black coat to reveal a blueish button down and suspenders underneath was the incriminating nail in the coffin.

“You were told not to proceed,” Mark finally commented, mask still on in hopes of saving any last bit of his identity. “It was for your own good.”

“You motherfucker. I should have known. Shifting around the precinct, acting all nice but barely covering your tracks. You stupid idiot, you don’t have me fooled.” Peter stood up, not knowing why he hadn’t chosen to until now. “I got you!”

Mark shuffled cautiously over, something calculated in the way he stepped. For being put on the spot, he presented himself so calmly. “What’s happening here doesn’t leave this building, I can assure that.” As he leaned towards Peter, in an act of intimidation, his thick chest and belly grazed him softly.

Peter sizzled with something along the lines of rage, determination, and… foul, bitter intrigue. It wavered between that and contempt, but the confusing whirl perked a devious grin across his lips.

Mark, all the while, did his best not to drop his glance on Peter, who had already woken up way too early, before he could even put him in the cube trap. Now there was more room for other errors, wrong moves. Mark began lifting the mask up over his chin, wanting full, uninterrupted sight of his target.

“No, keep it on,” Peter insisted (instructed, more like) with a satisfied sneer. “Keep the pig mask on.”

“Freak,” was Mark’s muffled reply from within, layers of latex and a big snout making his annoyed grumbles come out like breathy snorts. (Peter enjoyed that.)

“Go on, gimme a little oink oink. A little squeal.” Peter’s thick, arching brows made his expression even more devious… downright hungry.

“Fuck you,” Mark exhaled, realizing his sharp eye roll went unseen. Despite the scathing response, something in the way Peter was pushing him, goading him, cruelly trying to make a spectacle of him made his knees unconsciously press together. Ugh.

“I’m waiting,” Peter went on in a sing-song taunt, hands resting on his hips. It wasn’t dissimilar to the mocking tone he used in interrogations more than occasionally.

“Oink,” Mark acquiesced flatly. “Cunt.”

“Ah, ah, that’s not nice. That’s not what I asked for.” Peter advanced, encroaching on Mark’s personal bubble. “I want to hear you really squeal,” he spoke in a low, hushed tone. Immediately, as if prepped to actually wrangle and tie up a hog, he thrusted himself over as much of Mark’s bulk as possible, throwing his arms around him from behind and wiggling his fingers into his sides.

He was being tickled, Mark managed to observe throughout the flinching and irritation. And not only tickled, but squeezed on at the most sensitive part of his hips—his thick love handles, nothing more than fluffy layers of excess.

He did, indeed, let out a reflexive sort of squee—much higher and shrieking than his normally low voice would imply.

“There it is,” Peter grunted against the neck of the mask, keeping himself low, dense, and tight over Hoffman. (He was generally leaner than Mark, sure, but he was broad enough to stay wrapped around him… Not to discredit the incredibly physical training of the FBI to be ready to tackle someone at just about any given moment.) “Fucking pigfuck.”

Despite trying to detach himself and accept what was actually happening (not at all expected in any version of his plans, no matter how much he was taught to anticipate), everything was overshadowed by the burning shame of how the current situation was making Mark feel. Deep in his core—and in his pants—he was throbbing, and the more he felt embarrassed and ridiculous for strangely savoring it, the harder he felt himself get.

“There are so many layers to this joke!” Peter cackled sourly, a twist of syrup in his voice. He really could be so disgustingly, deliciously rude. “A fucking cop parading around in a pig mask. In a Jigsaw mask. Wow, and here I thought your precinct was just stupid, messy, lazy even. Like I bet you are. But wow, now that I know what’s going on...”

Mark almost lost the plot, realizing he wasn’t struggling as much anymore, and that he probably should have been… or should have at least pretended. “What’s your fuckin’ angle?” he finally spat out, tilting his head behind him to Strahm (even though it didn’t further his advantage in seeing past the mask’s eye holes).

“Detective, I’m just playing. I’m having a little fun. And if you want this to stay under wraps—all of it—then maybe you’ll play too.” The tickling had ceased a minute ago, and Peter’s hands were just resting heavily on Mark’s hips, seeming to want to roam around.

Mark, meanwhile, couldn’t believe the greasiness of this FBI agent. Mr. Quaffed-Hair and All-Business (Anything-At-Any-Cost) was just as dirty and fucked as anyone in his own department. Damn. And a fucking pervert on top of it all.

But what was he going to do? Let himself get caught? Let this smug fed bastard win and take him in and smile about being a hero? Act like there wasn’t some sheer layer of fucked up pleasure in being degraded throughout it all?

Strahm had moved on to the next impulsive thought. Still clawing into Hoffman’s thick waist, he dug his finger tips in, letting them sink and press against tight fabric and pillowy flesh. He positioned his hands further to the front, hefting Mark’s belly and letting it wobble solidly. Then he did it again. There was a surprising lack of give to his gut.

“You been packing the donuts away, Detective?” Peter hummed. “Such a pig. In so many ways. I’m eating this up, you pathetic fuck.”

Mark could feel the snide grin curling up Peter’s angular face, burning right through the layers of mask between them. “Shut up,” he tried to shoot back, not at all believable or in line with his usual bravado. “What else do you want?” The logical part if his brain was asking in order to obtain the eventual outcome, the escape, the solution. But deeper south, the question was more asking “What else are you gonna do to me?”

“As much as I love this,” Peter emphasized his intention with a startlingly soft rub over Hoffman’s lower belly, “I want you on on the floor. All fours. Like the nasty, stupid animal you are.”

“Bitch,” Hoffman bit out, juxtaposing the way he complied, folding his sizable form down to the ground. His cheeks heated at the way his gut hung down, smoothing out any creases in the fabric, pressing tightly against his suspenders and maintaining contact with his thighs. He knew Strahm was looking, fixated, salivating. He wanted him to. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

Strahm stood tall over the sad, hulking visage of Hoffman on his hands and knees. He relished the view, stepping his heel down roughly on Mark’s lower back.

“I wanna see you just like that, with a little dish under that fat fucking face, just snorting and oinking while I watch you. You’d like that, huh? You filthy pig. You’ll stuff your face ‘til these pop off, won’t you?” Peter had basically sat himself onto Hoffman, as if he was a pony, and snapped at his tight suspenders to illustrate the point.

Mark, in turn, gave a regrettable sort of whimper, which, through the low oxygen under the mask, made him huff a little as well.

“Panting already?” Peter tsked. “You haven’t even done that much yet. And I haven’t even gotten to stuff you.” He craned his head low. “And I know you’d like that, no question. I’ll get you so fat.” He breathed out the last sentence with sugar dripping slowly, threateningly.

Mark absently ran one of his large palms from the crest of his belly to the dampening crotch of his pants, and back again. “You gonna fill me up?” he rasped out, trying to curve a little sarcasm, a little laughter into his tone.

“In more ways than one… if you’re good,” Peter grinned wickedly. “If you’re a good boy.”

“I’m a good boy,” Mark agreed huskily, trying to mask his eagerness. If only Strahm could see the way his eyes darkened, lids lowered, under the mask—the uncomfortable lust across his face. But he was nothing more than a blank, expressionless animal for Peter to use and admire.

It made Mark so flustered, so disappointed with himself. It made him hot.

“That’s right,” Peter went on, breathing heavier himself as he spoke, “you dumb animal. You’re already so turned on by this, huh? How I’m talking to you? Disgusting.”

“You’re the disgusting one,” Mark panted some more, words not necessarily cutting, but laced with pleasure and the seek for release.

“Yeah, and you love it. Now, if you’re gonna mess yourself like that, go ahead and finish. But you better keep those hands on the floor.”

“How the fuck am I—“

“I know you’ll finish, even without your grubby hands on your dick. Because you’re so close. You’re so fucking desperate.”

“You’re such a prick,” Mark (embarrassingly) just about whined.

Peter leaned down, still mounted on the dip of Mark’s back, mouth close to where his ear under the mask would be. “Yeah, and it’s getting you off isn’t it? So’s the idea of me coming into your office to find you leaned back in your chair like the big boss you are—” Peter’s voice squirmed into a dopey, mocking voice. “—shoving donuts in your face, too fucking round to even sit up. What a fine use of time and tax dollars. You’re so full and you’re stuck and you can’t even zip your pants back up, and just to make it worse, I come fill you up even more.”

Both men were admittedly getting shaky, heavy breaths filling the damp room like an echo chamber of horny, unfiltered babbling.

“Tell me, Detective, would you want to take it up your big fat ass, or would you rather suck me down ‘til you can’t take anymore.”

“Fuck you, Pete.”

“Only if you say please. Now what’s your answer, stupid?”

“Both,” Mark finally grunted, coming all sticky in his pants as he did so.

After finally yanking the mask off and flinging it across the room with fervor—sweaty, worn—Mark took the moment to catch his breath and try to buck Peter off of him, like a wild horse. He couldn’t quite manage, but Peter was nice enough to remove himself… before launching into a whole rant.

“So, the story goes, I came in here to do a sweep—a little preemptively, I’ll admit—but I did find you, the only survivor of Jigsaw’s game, and I helped you out of the restraints. The end.”

“You know, I could have gotten out of the trap myself.” Mark’s expression was somehow both dull and sassy at the same time. “Maybe a strap broke and I was able to undo the rest.”

“Yeah, a strap breaking on you I can imagine,” Peter teased, tone snarky and dry. “But no, Jigsaw doesn’t make mistakes, so that story doesn’t fly. You’d know that, wouldn’t you?”

Mark eased into that expression he often made when he wanted to roll his eyes without actually doing so. The corners of his mouth lowered into a skeptic near-smile, and his eyes flicked brightly under lazy lids. “Fuck you tenfold.”

“Maybe,” Strahm replied, a venomous grin forming. “I’ll be seeing you, Detective Hoffman. Maybe I’ll drop by your office sometime.” He marched ahead with fast footsteps, not once looking back at Mark.

Mark wondered when that office visit would be.

[icarus-suraki]

1, 7, and 9 for the movie ask!

It occurs to me that I could just answer Goncharov (1972) for all of these…

Movie Questions Ask Bait!

->what is your favorite film of all time? Very possibly Mad Max: Fury Road. That movie rewired my brain. That movie scraped the rust off my soul. That movie sneaked up behind me and stole my spine. And it was great.

I literally went to see it in the theater seven (7) times. Seven. If you dig back in my blog here to June 2015, you'll see that this place was full of Fury Road. Stills, gifs, music, meta, fic, shitposts, all of it. All of it.

Sidebar: I think my absolute love of Fury Road is what's keeping me from wanting to see the new Furiosa prequel: Fury Road didn't explain everything to death so we, the fandom, had a great time imagining explanations or making things up. We dissected that movie and we also left it alone. I don't want to know too much. I like that world being left a partial mystery. We, like Max, get thrown into it and we're both figuring out how it works as the story progresses. I love that.

I can't exactly explain why I love it so much. The colors, the action, the fight scenes, the music (holy shit the music), the characters, the weirdness, the story itself, the callbacks and parallels, the newness and the oldness of it (it really is a train robbery movie at its core), the sense (ultimately) of hope, the presences of women (old women even!) in action roles… Something about it, maybe everything about it, were just perfect for me at that time and in that place.

Yeah. Favorite movie ever.

->name a movie you’re emotionally attached to? There's so many ways I could take this. Positive attachment? Negative attachment? Very Strange Time in My Life attachment?

Like, I know I can never watch L'Illusionniste, Les Triplettes de Belleville, or Grave of the Fireflies again because I cried just too fucking hard at each of them, which I think is an emotional attachment.

Or I could say the Lord of the Rings movies (all of them). They came out when I was in college and a handful of us were counting down the days to the premiere, watching this miniscule clip of video taken by a fan from a train that showed a glimpse of the Minas Tirith set endlessly, gobbling up any news or leak or rumor about production on Livejournal, engaging in the fandom of that era (which was a whole thing in and of itself), even going to midnight local premiers. So while I'm not a huge fan of the movies, they certainly were a constant presence in my undergrad days.

Or it could be the other movies that rewired my brain: Mad Max: Fury Road (see above), Princess Mononoke (baby's first Studio Ghibli film in 1999 at the local art house theater), Star Wars (only episodes 4, 5, and 6 though; I kind of deny that any others exist), Kiki's Delivery Service (which I had on VHS in college and would watch when I was stressed and depressed because I love the city), Voices of a Distant Star (the concept really got me)…

Or it could be the kids' movies from my own childhood, you know? Robin Hood (1973) is very near and dear to my heart. And Panda and the Magic Serpent is what started me down the weaboo road way back when I was 6 years old.

There's so many possible answers here. But that's a few movies I have emotional attachments to. How's that?

->guilty pleasure movie? Do I have to? Okay, okay, okay: I like a good cheesy, gory giallo movie, red tempra paint blood and all. Spaghetti westerns are amazing with their half-understandings or misunderstandings of USAmerican history to the point that it becomes something different, something bigger and more epic (I love The Good, The Bad and the Ugly so much). Martial arts movies full of dramatic scenes and wire-fu are so much fun (and I get to practice my Mandarin or my Japanese). Gothic drama, especially from the 1990s, is great like the original IwtV, Crimson Peak, The Crow…

But I paid actual, real, hard-earned money for a (digital) copy of Bloodsport and it's so bad. It's so bad! But I love it--maybe as much for meta reasons as anything.

Like, the whole thing is based on this Canadian-American guy Frank Dux's memoirs about being trained in ninjutsu by a mysterious Senzo "Tiger" Tanaka (who probably didn't exist at all and has the same name as a character in You Only Live Twice) and then going on to compete in this international full-contact underground martial arts competition in Hong King (the "Kumite"). Oh and he was also in the military at the time, doing covert missions, so he had to go AWOL to fight in this competition of course. Which he does without being caught. And he keeps outsmarting the CID officers (one of whom is played by a young Forest Whitaker) when they chase him to Hong Kong, meanwhile picking up an April O'Neill-style beautiful American journalist ("reporter" because it's the 1980s).

The whole thing is so clearly ridiculous bullshit but it's marketed as being based on a true story because Frank Dux insisted his bullshit was true. And it was produced by Cannon Films, which is another can of worms entirely (I highly recommend the documentary Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films for more backstory on the company; it is bonkers). And did I mention that Frank Dux is played by Jean-Claude van Damme? And yes he does do the most epic of splits.

And the whole thing is simultaneously so deep in meta layers (self-proclaimed martial arts masters, which ties into Count Dante and the dojo wars, Frank Dux's amazing bullshit and stolen valor, Cannon Films) and yet so incredibly shallow at the same time.

There's minimal plot, zero depth to the characters, massively long flashback sequences, even longer training montages, a totally ridiculous amalgamation of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean cultures into just "Asian Culture," the dubbing in some scenes is practically criminal, there's minimal exploration of the location (Hong fucking Kong!!!) outside of a chase and a throwaway scene about bad restaurant food, and even the fight scenes during the tournament aren't really all that great.

But the Kowloon Walled City gets some screentime (except that it's just a set sometimes). And there are tons of locally-hired extras and bit players, along with a slew of international actors and/or actual martial artists, even if a lot of them have been cast as nationalities other than their own???--like Bernard Mariano, who is Filipino by descent but was born in Hong Kong, had no martial arts experience but got scouted while he was working out, was cast as a "Middle Eastern" fighter named Hossein, but used his pay from the movie for university classes to go on to be an English teacher in Hong Kong. Meanwhile, Jean-Claude van Damme is busy taking his shirt off and wearing super tight spandex underwear (he snaps them in one scene; you're welcome). Leah Ayres is a "reporter," which is really "journalist" and one of the few adventurous jobs acceptable for women in 1980s movies to have, who maybe lives in Hong Kong or maybe doesn't but she's super cute and deserves better than she got in the script; she's The Girl (Leah Ayres is now into pseudoscience). And Donald Gibb is playing this American bar brawler who somehow got invited to this elite fighting tournament and he looks like Kurt Russell in The Thing if he were still infected by the Thing and living out on the ice alone.

Like, I could just keep going. I love this shit. There is so little that's "good" in terms of filmmaking, scriptwriting, cinematography, anything in this movie and yet it entertains the fuck out of me.

Hence: guilty pleasure film.

[cosmxc-ars3hol3]

Oh, ashes, ashes, Dust to dust

Title - Oh, ashes, ashes, Dust to dust

Rating - General Audiences

Archive Warning - No Archive Warnings Apply

Category - M/M

Fandom - Keeper of the Lost Cities - Shannon Messenger

Relationship - Councillor Bronte/Fintan Pyren

Characters - Fintan Pyren, Councillor Bronte

Additional Tags - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 03: Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities)

Summary - ‘After Fintan burnt Oblivimyre down during his healing, he sneaks his way into Bronte’s Castle in Eternalia so he has somewhere to stay. Bronte decides to help him stay hidden/keep people thinking he’s dead.’

its gonna be a multi chapter (hopefully) fintante fic that my tumblr mutual kale gave me when i was bitching about the appalling lack of fintante fics on ao3 (thanks kale!)

‘Councillor! Are you okay?' A younger Bronte yelled out to the councillor.

‘Yes, I am fine. Thank you, Emissary Bronte,’ he replied. ‘I should’ve expected that to happen.’

Bronte sighed and gave a small chuckle.

Councillor Fintan had been attempting to create some fire, although it wasn’t a type that was known or studied. He was attempting to create a brand new type of fire. He called it ‘Balefire’ and said that his end goal was to make a fire that could sustain itself without fuel, contained inside of a crystal, just like the ones used for leaping. Bronte asked if he could sit in while he figured out how to design and create this idea.

What had just happened was that in one of Fintan’s many attempts at trying to bring his ideas to reality, the crystal had shattered and rained little glittering sparkles over the two of them. The crystal had made a loud bang as it broke, scaring Bronte to his feet.

‘Do you really think this can work, Fintan?’ Questioned Bronte.

‘Do you doubt me that much, Bronte?’ Responded Fintan.

The two elves locked eyes with each other, and Bronte was the one to break the slightly uncomfortable silence.

‘You’re right. I should doubt your vision, Councillor.’ 

Bronte said, stone cold, but Fintan could see his embarrassment on his face. Despite his tone, Bronte’s face was alight with red and rosy cheeks, and he was awkwardly looking away from Fintan, not wanting to meet his eyes as Fintan stared at him intensely.

‘Look at me, Bronte.’ Fintan asked, although it didn’t really feel like a request coming from the councillor.

Bronte still felt too embarrassed to meet his eyes, so he decided to look at Fintan’s circlet.

He first looked towards the sides of the circlet, golden metals making pretty patterns that led to the centre, where a crystal made of a sunset orange-coloured sunstone was set in place with smaller shards of red carnelian, the circlet demanding respect.

‘I said, Look at my eyes, Bronte. Not my circlet,’ Fintan commanded, assertive but not aggressive. Bronte looked a little further down Fintan’s face, down to his bright blue eyes.

Fintan’s gaze was both stern and calm, a complex display of emotions that made Bronte slightly uncomfortable looking into his eyes.

‘I'm sorry, councillor, for any disrespect; I didn't mean it.’ Bronte answered back.

‘'s ok, Bronte. I know you; I know you meant no offence by what you said. Be careful next time, though; not everyone is as nice as me.' Fintan said it with a teasing tone and a playful smirk. Bronte looked away again, and the blush returned after it had finally left his face alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

‘Bronte, hey Bronte.’ Fintan said, drawing Bronte out of his imagination.

He missed the days when Fintan was known for his goodness, his ability to help.

If only he had known how Fintan felt about the world, maybe he could have helped change everyone’s minds. Maybe Fintan could have never started a rebellion, changing so many lives.

Unlike not long ago, Fintan was now known for his bad acts, the all-consuming everblaze he learned how to summon, the rebellion he ended up leading. Bronte wished it was how it used to be. Fintan was a pillar of hope for people who were just like the two of them. 

Not many people knew for certain who he and Fintan were to each other. Now that Bronte thought about it, he realised that Oralie and Kenric reflected him and Fintan in a way, two councillors, in love, but both never stepped off together before it was too late. One of the striking differences was that Kenric and Oralie would’ve been a perfect pair, both in their souls and on their matching scrolls. He and Fintan would’ve never had that for themselves.

‘I’m sorry, Fintan. i got lost in my thoughts.’ Bronte responded after sometime

‘i get it. do you wanna talk about it while i try to fix up my injuries?’ Fintan added

‘maybe later, but you don’t have to try to fix your injuries by yourself,’ Bronte assured ‘hand me the cream and bandages, would you please, Fintan’

Fintan reached over to where the medical kit was resting, grabbing what Bronte needed with a little wince when he had to stretch to grab the bandages.

when Bronte saw that Fintan had what he needed, he walked closer and sat down behind him

[jackoshadows]

A blogger was wondering the other day why there were not more posts theorizing about Arya’s future arcs and I posited that it was because there was a tendency in this fandom to devalue Arya’s story, themes, characterization and strengths, negate them entirely, ignore them or subtly hand them off to prop up Sansa’s story.

Browsing the Arya tags today and I came across an example of exactly what I was talking about.

Example 1 from a fake Arya/Sansa stan (Someone pretending to be Arya’s number one fan and yet thinks that Arya’s best endgame is her being Sansa’s PA and personal spymaster.

Here is an example of how they pretend to build up Arya and then subtly take away and undermine her strengths. They say Arya is the one training at gathering information - and then immediately mention how Sansa also has information skills. Because it’s important that Sansa is on par with Arya at every level and good at everything.

Note: Over 5 books I have not read Sansa trying to collect information for the sole purpose of using that information to further some goal. So the person above saying that Sansa also has ‘information skills’ is just plain wrong.

Then they make the point that while Arya gathers the information, it’s Sansa who will figure out what to do with it... There is just so much wrong with this interpretation, which has no basis at all in the books.

Arya is good at not only gathering information, but also knowing what to do with it! Her whole arc in Harrenhal - a nest of intrigue and political tension - clearly demonstrates this. Even way back in AGoT, Arya knows that the Lannisters are upto no good. She sees the Lannister guards at the galley that was supposed to take them away from KL and knows it’s a trap.

Even when Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie, Lommy, Weasel etc are traveling, she’s the leader of that little gang, making the plans and plotting rescue operations.

As Roose’s cupbearer she hears Roose and the Freys discuss plans, realizes that the situation is going to change very soon and that she needs to get out of there, sneaks a look at the map and figures out a route, then conceives of, plans and executes the entire escape, including take care of logistics.

In contrast to all this, Sansa unwittingly spills information to the Tyrells because Margaery is beautiful and sweet and it’s Littlefinger who plans her escape and Dontos who gives her step by step instruction on what to do, which she follows.

Apart from that one time where Sansa guesses Corbray could be LF’s man in the 4th book (Even here, she doesn’t know how she comes to that conclusion! LF has to explain it to her), when has Sansa ever put 2 and 2 together to come up with 4? She has so much information at her disposal - that Lysa and LF plotted and murdered Jon Arryn, that LF was the last person to have Jeyne Poole, the plotting for the purple wedding which LF explains to her. At no point in AFfC do we see her thinking about any of this information she has.

I have no idea how someone reading the books with no bias can have the opinion that Arya is only good for information gathering and that’s going to be her endgame - being Sansa’s spy - while Sansa is the one who deciphers the information. How?! It’s just utter nonsense.

Example 2 of Arya’s book strengths being undermined and handed off to Sansa:

Arya is ten times smarter than Sansa in the books, in canon. But yes, let’s point out that Arya ‘isn’t dumb because she can figure things out’ to give the appearance of being a neutral fan who loves both Arya and Sansa equally!!

Arya is the heart and Sansa is the head? Sansa good at analyzing information without feelings and providing context?

Arya has both heart and the brains to go with it! That’s why she is leadership material. She has empathy, kindness and compassion, she has the intelligence to understand right and wrong, to get information, to use information, to understand political intrigue. The person who knows her best, Jon Snow, describes her as ‘clever’ in the books.

It’s Sansa who sees Joffrey sadistically maul another child and attack Arya with his sword and think that it’s her ‘beautiful, sweet prince’ who is the victim in all this. It’s Sansa who thinks that the Queen who ordered her pet wolf dead for petty vengeance knows better than her father. It’s Sansa who trusts the Tyrells because Margaery is beautiful and elegant and graceful unlike unsatisfactory Arya. It’s Sansa who continues to be LF’s pawn in the Vale participating in the slow poisoning of her little cousin because ‘Father knows best’.

It’s Sansa who overhears LF’s price gouging schemes and about the food scarcity everywhere and still the most troubling thing for her is Harry the Hair calling her a bastard, while enjoying a 64 dish extravagant feast.

It’s Sansa who is unable to understand why the hungry people of KL attacked her and Joffrey’s coterie in KL while loving Margaery (Hint: It’s about food)

The same smallfolk who pulled me from my horse and would have killed me, if not for the Hound. Sansa had done nothing to make the commons hate her, no more than Margaery Tyrell had done to win their love. - Sansa, AGoT

Arya meanwhile feels guilt when she realizes that the smallfolk of the Riverlands suffer the consequences of war - that it does not matter who wins, Stark, Lannister,Tully - the victims are the ordinary people.

"Wolves, she thought again. Like me. Was this her pack? How could they be Robb’s men? She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cry.” - Arya, ASoS

And Arya has studied Heraldry and history under the Septa, same as Sansa. She recognized her father’s men and their houses using their heraldry. She is further learning about Braavosi history and politics in AFfC and ADwD. She has a keen understanding of the North by spending time with her father.

Sansa nearly pushes Joffrey off the walkway until the Hound steps in and stops her, but it’s Arya who is all emotional while Sansa analyzes information? The same Arya who endures beatings and sees innocent people killed and yet stays silent because she was powerless to help? That Arya is too emotional to analyze information?

There’s this narrative that’s constantly propagated by certain fans that claim to love both characters the same - that Sansa and Arya have complimentary skillsets and will have to work together as a team. Those same folks also always envisage this team as comprising of Queen in the North/Lady of Winterfell Sansa Stark and her assistant Arya Stark. To hell with that nonsense.

Arya Stark has all the characteristics and the strengths to be a leader of Winterfell and the North in her own right. She has the Stark name, the Stark look, the North rising up for her and two kings trying to save her in ADwD, her father’s words and wisdom guiding her, a huge grey direwolf (The symbol of house Stark, their sigil and a gift from the Old Gods), her mother’s strength of resolution and courage, the love of the Lord Commander of the NW, kindness, empathy, intelligence, people skills, ability to deftly wield a sword and the charisma and strength to be a leader of men and women.

Everyone should read the books and enjoy these characters independent of any of these takes from so called neutral ‘we love both sisters’ readers. Fandom would then be a lot more interesting and fun place to debate and discuss actual character arcs based on what’s in the books and what their possible endgames could be. IMO.

[bonefall]

You've single handedly dragged me back into the warriors fandom with your warriors overhaul and as a consequence I've been dragged back to my ocs, so I decided to give clanmew names a whirl for the biggest one I've got, sheepstrike!

During a particularly hard leafbare, the prey in the moors wasn't enough to sustain windclan, leading to a starvation event similar to the great hunger seen in goosefeathers curse. With many of the weaker cats already having died, the clan was growing desperate, and a then generically named curlyfur (fofwarrlfaf, curled fur, named for a curly fur genetic mutation) stepped up with a risky plan: sneak into the twoleg farm and steal one of the sheep once they were let out in the fields. While the clan cats would normally not do something to potentially provoke the twolegs, at this point they were desperate enough to try, which lead to an eventually successful raid. While the raid was a group effort, the windclan cats attributed their survival to the cat who came up with the daring plan. Curlyfur was then given the honor title Sheepstrike, which I've translated as baabakorren, baa meaning sheep and bakorren meaning to use/make use of. While her original name focused more on the actual acquisition of the sheep, her clanmew translation ended up focusing more on the use of the body, as the sheep not only fed the clan but also kept them warm with the use of its wool, and gave them materials to make future tools with the use of its bones.

Her name would have been easier to translate, but I took it a step further and decided to try and keep the alliteration as a fun little challenge. Maybe it's a fun little naming quirk of the windclan leader? Who knows? All I know is I made things needlessly difficult shuffling through the clanmew lexicon finding any verb that started with the letter b and shoving it against baa to see if it fit.

(I also gave naming her littermate Cornflower a whirl and ended up with Mooheqmwaron, mooheq meaning corn and mwaron meaning bloomed. As a young kit and apprentice cornpaw was rather skittish, but after a bit of socializing she grew into quite the social butterfly, becoming a popular figure at gatherings. The prefix corn was used because of her yellow coat color and her clans close location to a farm, and the suffix flower/bloomed was used in reference to the fact that she grew into herself and metaphorically became a bright and beautiful flower. Her original name is also a bit of a fun jab at cornflour, since I picture her having a grand old time with kitchen duty, specifically the baking of tunnelbuns)

If people keep sharing cool OCs that draw inspiration from BB, I'm going to have to find some way to boost them. Some people understand the assignment and absolutely knock it out of the park!

Speaking of sheep-killing... I am actually planning a minor subplot in BB!DOTC relating to sheep. I think I may have mentioned it in passing at some point, but in a nutshell, there's a point after the formation of ThunderClan where Thunder Storm and the Gang are negotiating with the River Kingdom, Shadow's Clan, and the Wind Coalition.

To stay on their good side, the Wind Coalition employs them for a while to teach them the secret of killing sheep, something that Tribe cats know how to do. But they quickly find out that the reason the Wind's Runner sent them to do this isn't because they're better at killing sheep, but because there is a vicious collie and she wants to see what they do with a sudden challenge.

As a result of what happens here, sheep become much more closely managed and killing them becomes too hard to do casually for future generations. WindClan also carries an important cultural memory from the event; that stealing from humans means more dogs on the moor.

(Also the border collie's name is Hamish, for no particular reason. I just think it's a cute name.)

But anyway! Onto some new words for you!

The word "mooheq" is actually made during the Sundrown Patrol! Corn was only 'discovered' and named after the Clan cats settled at the lake, because of passing through so many farms to find Sanctuary Lake. Before then, all of the strange, unnatural-looking plants grown by humans are called Yoshepe.

It's why they don't have words for most farm animals (chickens, goats) or any other common crop, like tomatoes, potatoes, or lettuce. Only particularly noteworthy human products are given names, like the unsettlingly red domestic rose or medically valuable catmint.

So for Cornflower, if she's from a time before the Lake before they invented Mooheq, I've gone and gotten three plants for you. Two to keep a "direct" translation and one to hopefully keep the "vibe"

Cornflower (Centaurea cyanus) AKA Bachelor's Button = Kerrma This plant (and the next one) are actually named for a very interesting reason; they're 'parasites' of cereal-crop fields. Before industrialization, they carved out a little niche as grain impostors, and humans would unwittingly sew them along with the crop. Kerrma is blue and fluffy, valued for its beauty.

Corn Cockle (Agrostemma githago) = Mwirrma While Kerrma is pretty, safe, and a bit more 'delicate,' Mwirrma is an unkillable weed. Poisonous and seen in cornfields, roadsides, and disturbed areas, this pink flower is seen as a reminder to "be careful" when doing something as risky as visiting a human grain field.

Sunflower (Helianthus annuus) = Awlpon I was actually ready to rule against having a word for Sunflower in base Clanmew, then I learned that sunflowers can naturalize themselves in this area, in addition to being a very common crop. So this is one of the few human crops that Clan cats have a name for. It's yellow, it's grown by farms, it's bright and cheerful and faces the sun. If none of the other two tickle your fancy, here's one for Cornflower's vibes!

[sister-lucifer]

*Read og inspo post here* 

A/N: Had a dream about this. Decided to write it. The descriptions of Miss Melanie are very in depth bc that’s how she was in my dream teehee 🤭 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: You sneak away at a rich acquaintance’s party, and get found by his maid who seems to take an interest in you beyond the professional bounds… 

Content/Warnings: Trans masc Reader, Reader is post top surgery, descriptions of overstimulating situations, Reader is referred to as a ‘good boy,’ oral, fingering, subby Reader, praise, whiny Reader, use of the words ‘cunt’ and ‘pussy’

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

The absolute regret you’re feeling right now is enough to make you question every decision that got you here. 

You were never one to party, or be very social, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to accept an invitation from a friend of a friend of a friend, right? 

Wrong. 

You’d gasped aloud when you pulled up to the shockingly lavish mansion, now pulsing and shaking with music and strobing lights. Everywhere you look there’s some new visual acid searing your eyes, making your head spin and pound with an oncoming migraine. The massive house is built like a labyrinth, impossible to navigate on a good day, let alone in such an unbearable crowd. 

You’re being led completely by instinct as you squeeze past one person after another. When you finally manage to free yourself from the sea of people, you only manage a few steps before you have to collapse against the wall. The music is still ringing loud in your ears and thumping deep in your chest, but at least you have your personal space back. It gives you enough sense back to steady your breathing as you look around for somewhere to go. 

Your knees tremble as you stand, balancing yourself against the wall with one hand and unsteadily gripping your drink in the other. You hardly even feel yourself move as you make your way towards a darkened hallway hidden away behind a pillar and a probably fake giant houseplant. Someone might’ve called your name, but you didn’t care enough to turn around. 

The relief you feel when the shadows free you from the harsh light of the designated party room is immense. Without thinking you walk further down the hallway, the entire passage still well lit by the glow of the party. You back up against the dead end wall, resting against it with a sigh. Your hair is sticking to your sweaty forehead and face and has to be pushed back before you take a sip from your still cold drink. Your hands are shaking a bit, but you calm down a bit more with each second that goes by. 

You aren’t sure what to do. You want to leave, but how? You’d have to walk all the way back through that mess of a crowd again, and you’d feel bad leaving without saying goodbye to the host. 

But if you stayed, you’d be trapped in this overcrowded hell for who knows how long before you felt comfortable going back to the main room. 

Your fingers tap against your glass restlessly, your eyes fixed on the distant mass of shadowy silhouettes that are the other guests. Your heartbeat has finally began to slow, no longer painfully thrumming in your ears. Everything has slowed down a bit now. You have some sense of calm back, at least for now. 

You try to take in the well-earned solitude as much as you can. Your head tilts back to rest against the wall, and you allow your eyes to flutter shut. You loosen your tie as you swallow thickly, feeling your Adam’s apple bob against your knuckles. 

It feels like an eternity before you can open your eyes again, but nothing has changed. You take another drink before setting your glass on a nearby end table. 

With your eyes cast towards the ground and mind preoccupied, you don’t notice someone emerging from the room behind you. 

“Hey there, enjoying the party?” 

The voice is gentle, merely inquisitive, and yet it makes you flinch and spin around as if you’d just heard a gun cocking. You weren’t sure what you expected to see when you turned, but you were surprised nonetheless.

The woman before you is nearly a head and shoulders taller, looking down at you with a sincere smile. Her deep brown eyes reflect the bright pink and blue lights leaking into the hallway from the party. Her hair is the same dark hue and looks as though it’s been dyed at the ends, although what may have once been a vibrant pink has long since faded to a muddy magenta. It’s curly too, falling in thick waves around her face and covering her shoulders. Her long sleeved blouse is as black as her skirt, which stops right between her knees and her ankles. There’s a crooked apron tied around her waist that’s certainly seen cleaner days and even has a few stitches around the edges. 

You struggle for a response for a few moments, completely dumbstruck by the sudden appearance of someone so… 

Enchanting. 

She’s beautiful in a nearly surreal manner, and you have to blink a few times to make sure she isn’t just an exhaustion induced hallucination. 

“Everything alright, sir?” She asks, bending down slightly to be closer to your eye level. You can see now that her canines are a bit sharper and stick out a bit more than they should, which must be what’s causing that subtle lisp. 

You nod, mouth hanging open in a rather foolish manner. You could kick yourself for being so easily flustered. All she did was greet you, after all. 

“That’s good.” She continues, “Figured I’d make sure since you’re back here all alone and all.” 

“Y…Yeah…” Is the only whisper of a response you can manage. 

She leans against the wall nonchalantly, watching the party from the limited view you have at the end of the hall.

“I’m Melanie, by the way.” 

“Melanie…” You echo back before replying with your name in turn. 

“Nice to meet you, hun. How are you liking the party so far?” 

The casual nickname makes your heart skip a beat. 

“It’s, u-uh…it’s nice…I just haven’t been to a party in a long time…”

“Is that why you’re hiding?” 

The question is lighthearted, but it still makes you feel a bit embarrassed. She seems to take notice, letting out a laugh from behind her hand. 

“I’m just poking fun at ya, I get it. Parties here can get crazy. I’ve had to clean up after a lot of them. You don’t wanna know what people leave behind.” 

You can’t help but giggle at that, and she grins in return. 

She takes a step towards you, reaching out with black acrylic tipped fingers to brush off your shoulder. You didn’t mean to let that sound slip past your lips, but she didn’t react, so you could only hope she didn’t hear it. 

“You sure you’re alright? You seem stressed…a bit warm, too…” 

She lays a hand on your cheek, and this time there was no hiding your gasp. 

She pulled away slowly, letting her nails drag on your cheek. 

“Aha, sorry, I’m being a bit doting, aren’t I? It’s become a habit. I’m supposed to be ‘the help’ after all.” 

“Y-You’re a maid?” 

You didn’t really mean to ask such a blunt question. Fortunately, Melanie took no offense.

“If that’s what you call it. This house is just too big for one person to take care of…speaking of ‘taking care,’ would you let me hang up your coat? It’ll cool you off.” 

You’re slipping off your suit jacket before you even nod. It’s embarrassing how quick you are to obey her, even if she was only giving a suggestion. 

Her hands slide from your shoulders down to your wrists before she pulls away with your jacket, hanging it on a coat rack that you didn’t even realize was there until just now. Her touch feels like lighting through your veins, making you shudder when she’s not looking. 

Maybe you were just imagining it, but you swear you saw her look you up and down as she turned back to you. 

Suddenly you’re feeling very underdressed. 

Part of you is screaming that she’s doing it on purpose, that she’s trying to flirt with you, but you can’t be sure yet. You don’t want to misread her and screw up the first good thing that’s happened to you tonight. You need to wait for a more obvious sign. 

She reaches up to smooth down your button up, her warm hands resting on your shoulders for a moment before lazily sliding down your chest and pausing once more when they’ve fallen to your hips. 

“You look handsome in this, you know. Do you wear this often?” 

Her smooth, sensual voice makes your mouth go dry. 

If this wasn’t an obvious sign, then nothing would be. 

“N…No, I-I don’t…I don’t really, um…go to parties…” Your tone is much too meek for your liking. The shake in your voice is impossible to miss. 

“Aw, that’s too bad…that makes this a lucky encounter, then.” 

Lucky is an understatement. 

Never before has anyone made you feel so vulnerable and yet so comfortable. You’re not averted by her touch the way you would be a stranger, and something in her eyes tells you to be calm. You lean into her palm when she brings it up to cradle your face. 

“I’m not…used to…this— I-I mean I don’t usually….” You stutter shyly, trying to avoid looking her in the eyes. 

“Oh, I can tell, sweetheart.” She replies with a small pat to your cheek. “But that’s alright. I’m here to help, after all.” 

Both of her hands are holding your face now, and she’s suddenly much closer than she should be. She’s leaning in towards your parted lips, but she pauses just a couple inches away. 

“You okay?” Melanie asks. Her words are warm against your skin. 

You nod wordlessly, but she doesn’t move. 

“Say it.” She orders.

“…Yes.” 

This satisfies her, and finally she closes the gap. You instinctively reach out to hold onto her, and your hands hesitantly come to rest on her waist. She silently encourages you by laying a hand over yours and giving a small squeeze. 

Melanie’s lipstick is smeared over your mouth when she pulls away, but she’s not going to tell you that. You’d wash it off then, and she wants to enjoy this sight a little longer. 

A gentle thumb runs over your bottom lip, and you’re more than willing to let her slip it into your mouth. She plants one more kiss on your forehead, leaving another smudged mark of dark mauve on your hot skin. 

“What do you say we get away from this party for a bit, hm?”

You answer as best you can around her finger, but she understands just fine. Before you know it she’s pulling you along by the wrist, ducking into a bathroom and locking the door behind you. She pushes you against the wall, and you don’t put up any fight. 

She removes your already loosened tie before turning her attention to your shirt. She skillfully undoes each button within seconds, allowing her to take in the view of your bare chest. You can tell she takes note of the scars, even runs a careful finger over one of them, but it doesn’t seem to change her mind about anything. 

She’s on her knees now, set to work on your pants, but she stops to look up at you. The sight makes your heart flutter. 

“You still alright?”

You know to answer verbally this time, but you aren’t ready for the words that come out. 

“Y-Yes, Miss…” 

The use of such a title earns you a kiss right below your navel. This time you see the pigmented mark it leaves, but you make no moves to wipe it off. Part of you never wants to. 

“Good boy.”

God, you could cum just from that. 

Her hands grip onto your waist, keeping your trembling body still while her teeth find your zipper. You fail stifle a groan as she slowly tugs it downward. You feel the fabric sliding down your legs, but you’re too focused on Melanie to look down to see. 

A series of gentle kisses are pressed to the inside of your thighs, each one more faded than the last. She hasn’t even made a move to slip off your underwear, but your thighs are already quivering. You have to resist the urge to press them tight together. 

When she finally hooks a finger under the waistband, you whine. She shushes you gently, but you both know there’s no possibility you’ll be able to keep quiet. 

The now soaking fabric is finally pulled way from your cunt. You bite down hard on your lip when you see Melanie lick her lips at the sight. Her gaze doesn’t falter for even a moment as her mouth finally makes contact with your aching pussy. 

Your sharp yelp reverberates off the bathroom walls, and you can feel the vibrations of her brief laugh. There’s no doubt in your mind that she’s done this before; no one this skilled is doing it for the first time. Or maybe you’re just so sensitive that it feels that way. 

It doesn’t matter, you aren’t complaining. 

You press yourself hard against the cold tile wall for support, unable to place much trust in your shaking legs. You’d be squirming pathetically if Melanie wasn’t holding you still. 

She’s making a show of eating you out, moaning and slurping in an almost dramatic manner. It’s embarrassingly lewd, but you don’t want her to stop. If you had the ability to speak you’d ask for more, but anything you try to say devolves into a moan as it leaves your lips. 

Your hesitant hand hovers over her, unsure  of what to do. You want to tangle your fingers in her hair, to push her against you, but you don’t want to be too forceful. Carefully you let your palm come to rest on her head, and almost immediately she pulled it down by your wrist. She’s encouraging you as best she could with her mouth occupied. You can take the hint. 

You test the waters a bit, pushing your hips forward and into her mouth. You aren’t expecting to suddenly feel her tongue make its way deep inside of you, warm and wet and squirming against your most sensitive spots. Your grip on Melanie’s hair tightens at the feeling, eliciting a pleasured moan from her. 

Suddenly she’s pulling away from your cunt, and you can see that her lips and chin are soaking wet. You miss the feeling of her tongue already, but before you can say anything she’s filling you with two of her fingers. Your back arches from the sudden intrusion, but after a few moments you relax once more with a sigh. 

“If you’re gonna pull my hair you gotta do it like a man, alright big boy?” 

You barely process the words over the feeling of her fingers pumping in and out of you. 

“Yes…Yes Miss…” 

You give another tug, a bit harder this time but still uncertain. 

“Harder.” She demands, “Do it like I’m asking you to, and I’ll use my mouth again.” 

This is the encouragement you need. The sudden pull is rougher than you meant for it to be, but judging by Melanie’s cry of bliss, that’s exactly what she wanted. In return she upholds her end of the deal, latching onto your swollen clit as she pushes in a third finger. 

Any sense of restraint you had before is gone now. You don’t care enough to even try and keep quiet anymore, letting every needy sound spill from your lips for Melanie to hear, and she’s taking in all of it. Every time you yank her hair her moans send wonderful vibrations up your cunt, emboldening you more and more. 

“Oh please, please, please…” You repeat under your heavy breath. You’re not completely sure what you’re begging for, but Melanie seems to know. Each time her fingers push in they hit deeper than before, curling into all the right places and making you squeeze around her digits with each vulgar squelch. 

You hardly have time to warn her when you realize your orgasm is fast approaching. You’re so overwhelmed you can hardly even choke out her name. 

“M-Miss—! Miss Melanie, I-I—! I’m g-gonna…!”

She makes a muffled noise that’s probably supposed to be a response, but it doesn’t matter what she said. She’s eagerly inviting you to finish with her mouth and you’re on no position to refuse. 

Both of your hands are gripping her curls now as you grind against her mouth. The only thing occupying your mind right now is finding your peak, and there’s no hiding your desperation. Your whimpers become shrill and choked up, your entire body tensing and shuddering with the sudden force of your orgasm.  You practically throw yourself back against the wall with one last broken cry.

Melanie doesn’t pull away until you ask her to, making sure that she’s thoroughly milked your orgasm before she removes her mouth with a wet pop. 

She moves to the side to allow you to slide down against the wall. You flinch at the cold tile floor against your bare buttocks and thighs, but it feels good to have the weight taken off your legs. 

Melanie tilts your head towards her, leaning in for a wet, sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips and her tongue which she eagerly slips into your mouth. Your lips lazily part for her, kissing back to the best of your ability with what little strength you have left. When she pulls away, there’s a string of saliva connecting your mouths. 

“Tastes sweet, huh?” 

You nod with a slurred reply and a lopsided grin. Melanie giggles through tight lips, pressing her forehead to yours as she strokes your cheek. Her free hand lays on your thigh, absentmindedly tracing shapes into the soft skin. 

“It seems like you enjoyed yourself, sweet boy,” She says, but you don’t get to confirm before she continues: 

“You have to return the favor now, you know.” 

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