#I can't stop thinking of my courier doing this

[vespertiliosworld]

Friends

Damian Wayne x Reader

Note: If I made a mistake, please forgive me, English is not my native language.

『••✎••』

You don't even know how you managed to be friends with the little arrogant Damian Wayne. Among the art of the students in the small gallery opened by the school, the arts of the two of you were the most striking among everyone.

You always saw drawing as the best way to express problems. The view 'Art is for people' was valid for you.

On the other hand, the view that 'Art is for art's sake' was more appropriate for Damian. I don't think this arrogant demon will care about people.

Nevertheless, you became friends, You spend many time just talking about art, after that Damian realized that, you are different from others. He appropriated your knowledge. He was start to get interested with you. He was listening your talks closely.

That boy never stopped rattling about you. Especially to Tim. He never miss an opportunity to telling him to how smart you are and your being better Tim, without doing anything. He kept talking about you while criticizing Tim. This take Dick's attention.

Dick get suspended about Damian's attention to you. Even Jason, realized Damian's interest on you. That was unexpected. Of course, Damian was growing, of course he was going to get some love interest but you were the first civilian one, Damian liked.

Just think about that little gremlins just standing there, his arms wrapped around his chest, looking Tim by with his eyes before starting to compare you both and praise you.

While time passes you two get closer. He was now judging every single person who try to flirt with you. He wasn't thinking that anyone can be good for you but him. He invited you to an art gala.

It was simple and quick. You two was sitting on grass at school. You were looking to social media and showed him to an art gala. "Look at that! Most important artist were coming."

He turn his gaze to your phone from his book with frown eyebrows. "Tch, I know that. My family are going to." He said this like nothing.

You turn your phone to yourself. "Gosh! You are so lucky." I whimper to him with a bit jealousy.

He closed his book and turn his eyes to you. "If you want, you can come to."

You look him with widening eyes in disbelief. "Really? But I'm not invited and also I'm not important person like other guests." You turn your gaze back to your phone hesitantly.

He shrug his shoulders. "I bet, you are more intelligent more than others." His eyes catch your hesitant. "Just come with me. It's better to talk with you than talking to my father's adulatorys." He grimaced at the thought.

You chuckled softly. "I can't say no to this opportunity." You take a deep breath with happiness. "What should I wear? Like a long dress?" You looked at him with teasing gaze.

He rolled his eyes. " Just don't exaggeration."

You looked at him giggling. "But I was thinking of coming in a gold-plated dress." You patted his arm jokingly.

His lips curled to up, a little smile's shadow appeared. "Then maybe I should send you a dress so you don't have to do that," He said teasingly as he turned his gaze back to the book.

You turned your head to him with a slight chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you. Still, thank you for inviting me." You looked at him with a warm smile.

When Damian's eyes fell on your smile, he couldn't help but feel proud of himself. "I know." He said simply. Before getting up from where he was sitting, he looked at you. "We will pick you up at six on Saturday."

You nodded and smiled. "Okay."

He reached out his hand to to lift you from the grass

***

You started to think about what to wear with worry from the morning on that day. Until a box arrives for you. After receiving the box from the courier, the note on top caught your attention. 'Wear this. -Damian.'

When you opened the box with a smile, there was a dress exactly as you wanted. It was absolutely beautiful, just your style. The thought of Damian getting it for you excited you. After putting on the dress and wearing short heels, you spent a few hours doing your makeup and hair. You were excited and a little worried because it was the first time you would be in such an environment. You were also thinking about not embarrassing Damian.

But when the doorbell rang, you hurried forward in your heels. As you opened the door, you were met with Damian's green eyes. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a stylish suit. From head to toe, her green eyes scanned you. "Looks good."

You looked at him with a smile. "Thank you, you look very handsome too." You tensely pushed your hair behind your ear. "I'm very nervous ." You admitted.

He raised an eyebrow and reached out his hand to you. "There's no need to get tense for a few snobs. Just ignore them."

You took his hand and left the house. Alfred was waiting for you in the car. Damian, as a gentleman, first helped you get in, and then got into the car himself. After entering, you looked at Alfred. "Hello, Mr. Pennyworth, it's a pleasure to meet you," you greeted him with a soft voice and a smile.

He gently bowed his head and looked at you in the mirror, greeting you. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, young lady."

When the car started to going, you started feeling more tense. You tried to calm down by looking at the hands you placed on your knees. Damian noticed your situation and reached out, wrapping his little finger around yours. Although he didn't like physical contact, he always did this when you needed it.

When you smiled at him, you noticed that instead of looking at you, he was looking out the window. Still, the small touch was enough to relax you. When you arrived in front of the gala, Alfred had already gotten out and opened your door for you. Damian get out car reached out his hand for you to hold.

After holding his hand and getting off, you lowered your head uncomfortably because the lights of the cameras of the journalists and reporters around were very bright. Damian, on the other hand, continued to walk upright and strong as if accustomed to this attention.

You relaxed when you entered to art gala room. Damian was still holding your hand, his eyes quickly found his father and directed you in that direction. When he stood in front of his father, he was confident and resolute. "Hello, father. This is my friend, Y/N."

When Bruce's eyes shifted to you, he looked at you with a gentle and rich smile and reached out his hand. 'Nice to meet you, young lady. Damian mentioned you very much."

You smiled at him and reached out your hand to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce's eyes briefly turned to Damian before shaking your hand. "I wasn't actually expecting Damian to make friends, he's usually quite selective." He drank the champagne in his hand and turned to Damian. "How about introducing your young friend to your brothers? They should be around."

Damian frowned. "They are annoying, we'll look at paintings instead." Without thinking, he rejected his father and dragged you towards a random painting.

As your eyes wandered around, he stopped in front of a beautiful painting. When your eyes were fixed on the picture, you carefully examined it, squinting your eyes. "Aren't brush strokes very simple? As if it's done without any emotion." You whispered to him.

When Damian's eyes shifted to the painting, he received a scornful look. "You're right, it is. Even when I was five, I could have done better than this."

You chuckled lightly and looked at him. "Ah, definitely." You moved on to another painting. "This one is more beautiful, I can see the artist's nervousness in the hardness of the brush strokes."

He shook his head. "The brush strokes are too harsh for a picture of a cheerful girl swinging on a swing," he said as he examined the painting.

You looked at him with a smile. "Perhaps he painted this picture with the hatred of his childhood." You came up with an idea.

Damian looked at you. "Maybe." After a while of silence, he turned back to the painting. "You know, I'm glad you came today. If you hadn't come, I might have thought about stabbing someone."

You looked at him with a slight chuckle. "You probably would."

As a slight smile formed on Damian's face, he took your hand and pulled you out to the balcony. "Come on, it's too stuffy inside."

When you stepped out onto the balcony, the sun was setting. Gotham had a rare clear sky, and today was one of those days. It was just you and Damian on the balcony. You took a deep breath and smiled as you looked outside. "The weather is nice."

Damian stood next to you with his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky. "It is." When a strange silence passed among you, Damian felt the need to speak. "You know, you're one of the tolerable rare people."

You turned to him with a slight smile. "Thank you, you are also a good friend."

When his eyes shifted to you, the ghost of a smile played on his lips.

After a brief silence, this time you spoke. "You know, your father is very attractive."

Damian took a breath filled with frustration. "You're starting to being annoying now."

You chuckled lightly. "But he is. Is he single?"

Damian turned his stern gaze to you. "Maybe I should stab you."

You chuckled softly, of course he wouldn't do it.

『••✎••』

Thanks for reading♡♡

[aenthroppe]

speír tumblr would be wild 1 note

🦜slippery-rigger On toilet duty again 🙄 might just throw myself into the clouds later 3 notes

🐺the-travis-matagot Winning another round of illimat. Just your typical Tuesday ✨ 🐦a-different-bird That's why you're the best Travis! 8.3k notes

🐺the-travis-matagot Winning another round of illimat. Just your typical Tuesday ✨ 🤡jolly-jack-official You'll never win back this name 8.3k notes

👩‍💼aenthroppe I think The Island is kinda neat 👼daddy-sovereign Friendly reminder that you cant reclaim the island and doing so is insenstive to victims of drowning 💙 🪂call-of-the-sky So we should just let the mariner come and take whatever he wants? ⛵real-boat-head only people who descended from seafaring cultures or are/were seafarers can reclaim, actually :/ 🏝 islander Not the saltwater purist 🙄 Islands are literally where everyone of us lives?? I think it's time we stop with the stigma around islands and the sea 1.2k notes

🏝 islander Time for my vacation 😎😍 Can't wait for the beach ⛵real-boat-head I hope you sink on the way there 75 notes

🦜slippery-rigger

513 notes

💀 call-me-spit The next skyjack caught jacking off will walk the plank! 💀 call-me-spit *slacking 💦thejerkerrrr

6.9k notes

👼daddy-sovereign Getting so tired of the heretics. This blog is my only sanctuary 😈dead-daddy-soverign But for how long 👼daddy-sovereign 😦 6 notes

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🌬 express-delivery Postal work is second nature to us couriers, so it's easy to forget that the average person probably only knows the hazard haul guidelines and one or two wax seal techniques 🍃righting-wrongs and stamps of course 🌬 express-delivery of course.

[melodic-haze]

Could you maybe do nsfw hcs for Jinhsi?

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Jinhsi x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: bondage and use of toys

☆ — NOTES: it's 1 am and I should be sleeping bc I'm fucking off to London tomorrow early morning. Oh well LOL

☆ — PARTS: Part 1, Part 2 (you are here)

So we witnessed the part 1 right? Day mode Jinhsi content? If not and you came straight for this then you're FILTHY❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️ Jokes me too

Anyway she's as sweet in bed as she is in the streets my babyyy 🫶🫶🫶 AND she's also as strong and formidable too. Thoigh tbf cmon you're BASICALLY bedding royalty/royalty-adjacent 🤷‍♀️ like be real

As much as she holds power and authority in her duties with a balanced grip, soft and caring yet firm and watchful, she does like the feeling of letting it go. She isn't a workaholic despite the workload she acc has so she recognises just how nice it is to simply stop thinking. And she puts herself in your hands, so full of trust as if she wasn't superior to you. Though really, in the room you're in? You may as well be equals-- no, you may as well be the one superior to her

I think while she may seem like very vanilla, she's definitely looked into things once or twice to experiment and see what she likes and doesn't like, sort out her preferences and stuff yk. Don't think she's be open about it though, more of a 'need-to-know-but-you-have-to-ask' basis which nobody's ever been.....until you, DUH

Ohhhhh I see her as a toy enthusiast. She doesn't get them out often (and no FUCKING way would she display them or anything) but she does certainly have a collection. She buys them under different names, has trusted couriers deliver it without knowing what's inside and it would be a disgrace upon the Magistrate to take a peek❗️❗️❗️ and just keeps them in a hidden box with different compartments. I just KNOW she'd be extremely knowledgable on them though, like how you're able to use them to gain max pleasure and etc despite not actually using them a lot

I personally don't think she'd have much of a libido!! Might be bc of how swamp she basically is with work, both while she's clocked in AND clocked out, but she's just never had that constant want or need—that kind of thing is at the back of her mind, esp when she has an entire region to manage and protect as its Sentinel's blessed

When she does get the urge to do so though, especially when she's with you, oh it hits STRONG I fear. Maybe it's bc of how pent-up she may be (bc really sometimes toys get to the point where they jsut aren't enough), or maybe it's bc of her being closely linked to said Sentinel ☺️☺️☺️

By THIS I mean with the whole sharing powers thing, there's no way some of its draconic traits haven't affected her in a certain way. SHE SPROUTS HORNS FOR GOD'S SAKE

Maybe that was mean of you, leaving her all alone for a little while in the dark while the vibrator inside her pussy operated as it should.

Really, you were just having way too much fun with her collection and you just wanted ti grab a few more.. at least, before you got distracted with one thing or another.

Now that you're back, though, you can't say you regret being distracted; the overall look that you lover was currently sporting, all bound and oh so wet as flickers of the power you both fear and respect make themselves known by having her—or rather, Jue's—horns manifest on her head from the overwhelming feeling of wanting to let go. But she can't, not when you've yet to give her the command to do so.

"For a leader, you obey me so easily, even when I'm not even there," you notice. "This whole time, you're just really eager to please, aren't you, dear Magistrate?"

Of course she couldn't answer verbally, you hadn't told her to speak, but she nods her head desperately as she trembled and that was good enough for you.

You see her eyes tracking you as you came closer, her irises quite literally glowing a celestial gold from the need of release. The closer you got, the more you see her struggling with her bonds to reach you... And failing miserably, much to her credit considering how you knew she could tear through them if she really wanted.

When you finally, finally get close enough, your hand goes over the dildo vibrator inside her, yet you don't grip it. Instead, you simply graze your hand on the toy's handle, perhaps even knocking it slightly sideways for a little extra motion, to which she lurched so delightfully—unbefitting of a government official like her, of course, but certainly befitting for your beloved in the bedroom.

"Do you want to cum, babe?"

She nods.

"How badly do you want to cum?"

No answer.

"Speak."

And all at once, her thoughts burst forth, the blatancy still unfamiliar to you to this day yet it still isn't any less satisfying to experience such a strong, independent soul to fall like this.

"I-- I need you so very badly, please..! I can't.. I don't-- I don' think I can h-hold it any longer--"

"Bold of you to decide what your limits are by yourself." You raised your eyebrow, "You wanted me to take the lead, the least you could do is—" and you turn the vibrator off, "—follow it. Stop thinking, there is no place for you to do so here."

All she lets out is a desperate whimper—she doesn't dare to upset you any further.

..And that has you turning it back on again, though you put it at a relatively low setting for her, keeping in mind that her draconic-esque endurance would need more than the average to break your beloved completely, as per her request.

She wanted true bliss, right? She wanted you to ravage her completely and take control of her in the way nobody else has managed or dared to?

If Jinhsi wanted it all, then she had to let herself go completely first.

Anyway ab her horns, touching the base of them would set her the FUCK off 🥰🥰 no, not the horn itself. Apologies have to be made right here right now but I believe in horn technicality which means horn sensitivity is not a thing, ESPECIALLY when it's her type which only really appear when she's channelling her abilities. The ROOT of it however would be a different matter, so massaging her head would basically K.O. her self-restraint

But that's fine, you'll make sure it happens.. no matter how long it'd take and how loud she ends up becoming.

Along with that, she probably has INSANE durability and stamina let's be so real. Each time you do anything remotely harsh on her, her tacet mark flickers for a brief second and it's like you're simultaneously striking soft skin and scales at the same time. She can ALSO go for a VERY long time, so edging her? Is REALLY fun when you wanna test exactly how much shr can take befkre she breaks and starts begging for you to help her get off 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[nukaberries]

How do you think your top three New Vegas companions (or all if you want to) react to a courier admitting that they have chronic migraines from their head injury that chems can’t dull? (Arcade ready with a whole lecture on chem addiction and courier’s like ‘I just want my brain to stop screaming at me… Both kinds of literally :( )

I FEEL LIKE MY TOP 3 ARE SO BORING but they're also safe choices i think?? rex is definitely top 3 but i don't think he'd be a particularly interesting option, so i hope you don't mind arcade, boone and cass <3

//

New Vegas Companions React to a Courier with Chronic Migraines (Contains: Arcade Gannon, Boone and Cass)

Arcade Gannon We already know he's gonna be giving the courier a lecture on the effects of chem addiction, that goes without saying. He's been in Freeside long enough to see how addiction has affected others around him and he's actually grown to like the courier, so there's no way he's going to watch the same thing happen to them. He knows he can't stop the migraines altogether, but he's willing to be patient with the courier when they do come around and make sure his friend gets the best care possible. He'll likely suggest that the courier lets the Followers try and treat them, since that's probably the best medical care they could get, but if they don't want to go with that option, he won't push.

Craig Boone While his own issues with head pain are nothing compared to the courier's, Boone's suffered from his fair share of stress migraines, with everything that's happened in the past few years. He can sympathise better than the courier may expect and surprisingly enough, he's actually very understanding if Six needs more time to rest up or can't do something on a day where their migraines are worse than usual. He knows the pain and the idea of having to deal with that consistently is a terrifying thought to him, so he can't begin to imagine how the courier managed to keep it together for so long. Boon knows his presence alone can't stop the migraines, but he hopes that it's at least a comfort for the courier.

Cass Any headaches she's suffered from have always been cured by a bottle of whiskey to knock her out for the night, which is the first thing she suggests to Six. Although, when they explain that it's not just your average headache and not even chems are helping anymore, she realises it might take more than alcohol to ease the courier's pain. She finds it quit frustrating at first, when she wants to get back on the road and the courier can hardly lift their head off the ground, but she'd never voice her irritation - it's not like Six can help it. Over time, she becomes more understanding and used to the idea that some days, it's easier on the courier to take a break and try to rest up, she doesn't have the best bedside manner, but she tries to do what she can and it's the thought that counts.

[im-a-wonderling]

White Moves First, Part 7 ~ Edmund Pevensie

Summary: Despite the distance between their two lands, Y/N, princess of Archenland, is close friends with King Edmund the Just. But when push comes to shove, will friendship turn to more?

Warnings: an unhealthy paternal relationship and a deviation from canon as I don't think Archenland ever had chapels in the Golden Age. But we can't have a royal wedding without a chapel!!

Word count: 5.6k

White Moves First Masterlist | Main masterlist

Edmund ran down the corridor, the absurd frills of his blue and silver wedding doublet scratching at his neck. He should’ve known better than to trust Susan to give him something wilace, but that was not what he cared about now. Edmund tried to get the attention of the manservant walking past him, but the man didn’t notice him until Edmund grabbed his shoulder. “Where’s the king?” he asked.

“In his study, Your Majesty.”

Edmund took off down the hallway again. Of all days for the silversmith to go on a trip to visit his brother, why did it have to be today? The ceremony was going to start in less than an hour, and Edmund still didn’t have Y/N’s proper ring. It was supposed to arrive by courier this morning, and there was no sign of any courier, and the silversmith was gone. 

Was it Edmund’s fault? Had Edmund designed too complicated a ring for too short a time? He’d wanted the ring to be special and completely unique, something that Y/N could be proud to wear. Now, because he was so particular, she wasn’t going to have a ring for the wedding.

Which was unacceptable and entirely his fault. Two of his least favorite things. 

Edmund burst into the study. “Your Majesty–” He stopped in the doorway, seeing the desk empty. He scowled. Why would the manservant have said that King Loon was in the study when–

“Well, if it isn’t the groom himself.”

Edmund’s spine stiffened as he slowly turned to see the foreign prince who sat on an armchair, legs crossed and fingers swirling a glass definitely not holding water. Rabadash’s fashionable ensemble was neat and lacked any of the stifling ruffles of Edmund’s as well as any sweat stains like the ones Edmund could feel underneath his arms that he hoped were discreet. 

Rabadash rose from his armchair with smooth ease. “Does the Just King need directions to the stables for a quick getaway?” 

Edmund took a deep breath. 

It was not worth it. 

Not today.

He wheeled around and left. At first he thought only his heart was beating in his ears, until the sound of footsteps grew loud. “Don’t fret, Your Majesty, I assure you the princess will not be lonely in your absence.” 

Don’t answer, Edmund commanded himself. There are bigger things to worry about. Like Y/N’s ring. 

“Of course, my company would not be able to ease the pain in your heart.”

Edmund whirled around. “What in blazes are you going on about?”

“Do you love her?”

“I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t,” Edmund snapped before he even had a chance to think about it. 

Rabadash chuckled, his eyes flicking to the ceiling like it would start laughing along with him if it could. “You don’t even understand how true that statement is.”

“Do you have anything of substance to say,” Edmund’s hands curled into fists, “or will you continue to prattle? Because I’m needed in the chapel shortly.”

Rabadash lifted his hand, showing off his much too long, yet perfectly manicured nails on fingers that had never done a hard or honest day’s work in their life. “You and your precious princess should know: I love a good challenge. Marrying her simply because of you would be too easy.”

Edmund started to turn away before Rabadash’s words fully registered, and he hovered. He wanted to keep walking, to pay Rabadash as much attention as the prince deserved, which was far less than he’d already gotten. But this concerned Y/N.

“What do you mean?” Edmund demanded.

“Oh, did Y/N not tell you?” 

Edmund kept his anger in check, knowing that a bland expression was far more antagonizing than an angry one. This crooked-nosed knave was trying to divide the two of them. Well, it wouldn’t work. Y/N would never keep information from him.

Would she? 

“Tell me what?” 

Rabadash leaned against the wall, clearly relishing Edmund’s attention despite the casual airs he was trying to put on. “I only wanted her because of you. If she was in Tashbaan as my wife, you would never allow Narnia to attack, because no matter how upset you were about your barbarian sister, risking Y/N’s life would be unthinkable. A lifelong hostage to secure my country’s well being.”

Edmund didn’t realize he was holding his breath until pressure started building in his chest. Rabadash had set his claims on Y/N because of him?

“The stoic,” Rabadash stepped closer, “level-headed,” another step, “mighty King Edmund.” He spread his hands, showing off for an imaginary audience. “The man capable of winning any negotiation leapt onto a dance floor to save one woman from a Calormen prince.” Rabadash lowered his arms, his smile somehow becoming more sinister. “And it wasn’t his sister.”

Edmund thought back to the ball, trying to recall when Rabadash had danced with Susan, but while he could list off every one of the nine dances Rabadash had partnered with Y/N for, he didn’t even have a memory of Susan on the dance floor at all.

“You showed your cards, King Edmund. All of this would’ve been easier if you’d just let me have her, but no.” The prince’s voice lowered to a whisper: “The Tisroc, may he live forever, has agents in the Narnian court.”

Edmund’s blood turned icy in his veins as the prince’s face darkened, hinting at the void of evil resting in this one man. 

“It wouldn’t take much, you know. An unlocked bedchamber door…a sleight of hand over a wine goblet…an unaccompanied walk in the gardens…and a marriage is over almost before it began.”

Edmund reeled away, putting as much distance between himself and Rabadash as he could. The faster he moved, the less likely it was that his fist would become enthusiastically acquainted with the prince’s nose. 

Y/N.

He had to find her. 

Not caring what the prince thought, Edmund broke into a run. 

-

I stared out of my drawing room window at the Northern mountains as I had many times before. Except now, I knew with certainty I would pass through those mountains to see the beautiful country on the other side. 

Narnia. 

Nerves fluttered in my stomach, reminding me that I hadn’t been able to force down my breakfast this morning, nor my dinner last night. When night fell, I’d lain in bed, worrying about whether or not my dress would be completed in time. 

As I gently ran my fingers along the soft taffeta of my bodice, I knew I needn’t have worried, and yet I was quite sure I would’ve found something else to worry about, like forgetting the vows that my father had written for the ceremony. Memorizing them had rankled every part of me, but I was grateful enough to Edmund for convincing my father to let me say vows that I couldn’t complain. Not when I was about to leave this castle. The vows would be the last time my father spoke for me. 

I heard the latch of the drawing room door lift. “It’s not even ten o’clock yet, Rona,” I sighed. “We still have another half hour to wait at least.” There was no answer, but I was quite content to draw comfort from the mountain line in silence. I might never see them again from this side. 

“Princess.”

The familiar voice so dear to me had me turning in an instant.

My fiance hovered just inside the doorway, his chest rising and falling as if he’d been running. “Edmund? What are you doing here?” Even as I asked, I laughed a little at the idea of Lord Trane’s face if he were to know that Edmund had seen me in my wedding dress before the wedding.

Edmund looked at the dress, looking more and more like he’d swallowed a frog.

“Do I look very nice?” I asked mischievously, referencing our conversation in the gardens after the ball. But my teasing didn’t make Edmund relax or smile.

“Y-you look…I mean…it’s…” 

“Edmund?” I stepped forward, concerned about his shallow, rapid breathing. Something wasn’t right. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted, but Rabadash is here–everyone is here, and they’re all gonna stare at us as we get married and they’ll be watching us for the rest of our lives–and your ring–a-and your father–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Edmund!” He buried his face in his hands, and I ran to him, placing my hands on his elbows, trying to coax his hands away from his face, but his stance was rock-solid. “How can I make this better?” I asked, feeling so helpless. 

“I don’t know.” His muffled words were so stressed, it made me feel sick. 

I lifted my hands to his head, taking off his crown and setting it on my chessboard right next to me before soothingly brushing his hair back like Rona did once when I was sick. “It’s not too late,” I whispered. “We can still call off the wedding.”

“Absolutely not,” Edmund croaked, pulling his hands away from his face, allowing me to see the deep distress written there. “I won’t leave you vulnerable to Rabadash.” He looked off to the side. Three times he opened his mouth, and three times, I was greeted only by silence. 

My anxiety rose. “What is it?”

Edmund lifted his troubled eyes to mine. “I have uncovered Rabadash’s motives for pursuing you. His observations led him to discover my affection for you and…he believed if he possessed you as his wife, I would never allow war between Narnia and Calormen.” He paused, as if waiting for a reaction. “I’m the reason he was trying to marry you.”

Rabadash’s words from my confrontation with him came floating back. A look is all it takes to know when a man is in love. But Edmund’s panicked expression looked nothing like what I imagined love to look like. Combining his panic with the sudden epiphany he seemed to be having, I knew. “You talked with Rabadash.”

“I tried not to. I tried to walk away, but then he came after me, spouting nonsense about me backing out and how he would,” Edmund’s mouth contorted with repulsion, “comfort you in my absence, and he said that you knew his true motives and didn’t tell me.” 

My gaze fell to the floor, and distantly I realized Edmund was wearing new shoes. 

“You did know.” The disappointment in his voice ripped at me. “Y/N, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I should have, especially before you proposed. I-I just didn’t want you to feel…responsible.”

Edmund raked his hands through his hair, making it stick up in comically asymmetrical directions. “But I am responsible. I’m the reason you were ever in danger of marrying him, my treatment and attention put you at risk, not to mention it’s my country he’s trying to overcome. That makes it my solemn duty to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe.” 

Duty.

“Edmund, I…” I didn’t know what to say. It was just like him to do the right thing at the expense of himself. “You didn’t want a marriage. You shouldn’t change that just for some perceived injustice.”

“On the contrary,” he replied, “protecting you is one of the only things that could persuade me to marry at all.” 

A fleeting warmth filled my chest, but it was quickly snuffed out by guilt. “We shouldn’t do this, I cannot ever repay the debt I would owe you if we married, not even–”

“Y/N,” Edmund interrupted. “You do not owe me any debt. If anything, I owe you–”

“No,” I insisted, “how could you possibly–”

Abruptly, we both stopped talking long enough to meet each other’s eyes before laughing. “This is not the future either of us imagined,” I ventured when our laughter stopped.

Edmund’s mirth faded to obvious unease. “Soon we’ll be standing in front of the world, publicly declaring our…”

Love.

“Fidelity.”

My lips twisted at the choice of words, but I couldn’t hold any grudge against Edmund for it. Not with what he was about to do for me. If only we could marry without the onlookers, without all the ceremony. To start a marriage with a performance isn’t something I ever hoped for or something that the sweet, honorous king in front of me deserved. 

Then, an idea started to take shape. 

I licked my lips nervously. “What if…we make our promises here?” 

Edmund blinked. “Huh?” 

I had to withhold a laugh. Whether it bubbled forth from his somewhat adorable confusion or from a bit of hysterics, it wouldn’t be helpful. “We make our true vows now, without anyone watching and without any pretenses.” I gazed at the door. “When we walk out there, we’re a king and a princess, but here, we’re…us. And when we’re talking about the rest of our lives, it’ll be us. Not Rabadash, not my father, not even Archenland and Narnia. Us.” 

I almost could feel the king’s mind racing as it molded itself into an understanding of my words. The suspicion of his expression didn’t lift, but I knew him well enough to know his suspicion often ran alongside his intrigue. “So what would we promise?”

“Ummm.” I wracked my brain, trying to think of the right thing to say. Should I promise loyalty? To bring honor and prosperity to his kingdom? To maintain a happy home for him? But then I looked at my friend, taking in his freckles and soulful brown eyes, and my frenzied thinking slowed. I didn’t want the flowery and unrealistic promises that my father had penned for us, and nor did he. The grand gestures were for the chapel, not this room. My eyes fell upon my beloved chessboard, and the words came to me. “I promise to keep beating you in chess.”

My flippancy was rewarded with a smile and a snort. “You can promise to try.”

Together, we giggled, and I felt my heart lighten enough for my next statement. “I promise to keep believing in you. Whatever plans you set your heart on, I will encourage you and never let you forget your strengths.”

“Or my weaknesses?” Edmund’s mouth curved into a wry smile. 

I smiled back at him. “Oh, we can let those slide.”

“Not entirely, I hope,” he hurried to say. “I wouldn’t want my head to grow too big for my crown.” 

“Your siblings are too similar to mine for them to ever allow that.” 

The room was silent for a moment as Edmund’s gaze locked on mine. “I promise to keep you safe. I will protect you from any threat, whether in the form of a contemptuous prince from Tashbaan or otherwise.”

I tilted my head at the unexpected energy behind his words. “You can promise to try,” I echoed. “But if something happens to me, you don’t get to punish yourself.” 

Edmund shook his head slowly, and I knew there was no way to budge the determination in his eyes. There was no doubt that he would defend me strenuously, though I wasn’t sure what threats possibly awaited me at Cair Paravel.

My turn again. 

With the guilt of withholding Rabadash’s motives from Edmund, I knew what to say next. “I promise to always tell you the truth. If or when you ask for my opinion, I promise to give it as I mean it.”

The change on Edmund’s face was subtle: the ever so slight widening of his eyes and the parting of his lips. I knew the wheels of his mind spun as he processed the words I’d just uttered. 

For a split second, I wavered. Was that the wrong thing to say? I was certain that my mother had never uttered such a promise to my father, and if she had, my father would’ve been insulted, perhaps even angered by such audacity.

Then the corners of Edmund’s mouth turned up, a breathy laugh escaping. “You are sensational, you know that?”

I chuckled, feeling simultaneously self-conscious and relieved. “I am not sure of that.”

“Then I promise to never let you forget. That is what spouses are to do, right?” Edmund took both my hands, his thumb fiddling with the silver signet ring resting on my pointer finger. “Hearten and inspire?”

“I guess so.” I kept my eyes lowered. “I vow to look the other way if you take a lover.”

Edmund sucked in a breath, jerking his hands away from me. “Don’t–”

“It needs to be said,” I whispered. Edmund shook his head violently from side to side, rejecting my promise as vigorously as he could without words.  “Edmund, I know you. Someday, there will be a woman, a very lucky woman, and you will love her with all of your heart. And I won’t stand in the way of that.”

“Y/N–”

“I mean it.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Nothing about this is how it’s supposed to be.” Edmund’s face fell, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I’d insulted him, and I hadn’t meant to. “I don’t want this to be suffocating,” I said slowly. “I don’t want to be someone that holds you down, I want to be someone that lifts you up.”

Edmund finally looked at me, his posture more burdened than before. “I will look the other way too,” he said finally. I wanted to argue, to assure him I would not—could not be with any other man—but this was him fighting to give me something he’d always fought to give me. 

Equality. 

“Very well,” I conceded. 

“I promise to do what you ask of me,” Edmund said slowly. “If you make a request that is within my power, I shall grant it.” Such a promise shouldn’t be made lightly, and I knew by my friend’s face that he’d thought it through and meant every word. 

I picked up Edmund’s crown from my chessboard and smoothed his hair down. “You seem calmer.”

“I feel calmer.” Edmund bent down slightly to allow me a better vantage point to properly set his crown on his head. “Are you ready?”

“There’s…something else.” I took a steadying breath, letting my hands fall away from him. “Children.” Edmund immediately ducked his head, red sweeping across his cheeks. His face likely felt as hot as mine, but I plowed forward. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but if we’re going to go through with this, we must talk about it first.”

“Alright.” Edmund rolled his shoulders. “Children aren’t…necessary. I am only one of four monarchs. I do not have to…produce an heir.”

I chewed on that for a moment. “But are they…wanted?” I didn’t receive an answer. “I know you didn’t want a wife, so it’d be fair to assume you don’t want children either.”

Nervous hands adjusted the ruffles at his neck. “I haven’t desired children.” He looked up warily. “Do you want them?” I gnawed on my lip. Edmund didn’t want children, so was there any point in bringing up–

“Y/N,” Edmund said softly. “You promised me honesty if I asked for it.” 

I forcefully pushed my breath out of my mouth in a long sigh. “Yes. I want them. Not right away, but…eventually.”

Edmund bobbed his head nervously, nodding along to my sentiment. “Then…I promise we’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”

My knowledge was admittedly limited, but based on an awkward conversation I’d overheard between my brothers, I was pretty sure there was only one way to make children happen.

Edmund scratched his neck. “I, uh, I designed a ring for you, but it hasn’t arrived, so…we may have to use the signet ring again today.”

He designed it? My curiosity rose, though I was careful to remain reassuring. “That’s alright.” I flashed him what I hoped was a warm smile as I wiggled his signet ring off my pointer finger and dropped it into his palm. “I quite like–”

The bells rang, startling both of us. As they tolled, I felt the weight of every ring. The signal of the ending of our lives up to this point and the beginning of a new life neither one of us had expected. 

“We have to go,” I said, dizzied by the rushing return of my nerves. 

“Yes.” Edmund lifted his head, looking much calmer and nearly resolute. “There is more for us to decide upon, I know, but for now, we’ve made a good start.” He nodded to himself. “We will work everything out.”

The door burst open, and there stood Rona, breathing heavily. “There you are, my lady.” Then her eyes fell on Edmund. “Oh dear,” she said quietly. 

Edmund merely held a hand up to his lips and slid past her. 

She watched him go, her expression filling with dismay. “Bad luck, milady!” she exclaimed once he was gone.

I grinned. “The king and I are making our own luck today, Rona.” I gazed out at the mountains again. “And it’s already quite a serendipitous day.”

-

Rona ushered me in front of the closed chapel doors. “Your father will be waiting at the altar for you, so you will be walking by yourself. When the doors open, that’s your cue!” With that, she scurried off, perhaps to reach her seat before I started my procession. 

My first time inside the chapel’s tall, imposing walls was when I was christened as a baby, but the first time I could remember was the ceremony for my mother’s death. My father had warned me not to fuss, to stand straight, and ‘for heaven’s sake not to cry’. 

Since then, the chapel had proved to be the prime hideout to shed the tears and speak the words I wasn’t allowed to elsewhere. The stained glass windows, the pews, and the great, golden statue of the lion were all great listeners. But there would be no tears today and every spoken word had been chosen for me.

I looked down at my dress, at the long sleeves that hugged my arms and the flowing skirt that ended just before it met the floor, committing the moment in memory. 

The telltale creak of the doors as they opened made me look up, and I froze at the sheer number of people standing at the pews, staring back at me. Blinking at them, I tried counting, but there were too many faces. For every face I recognized, there were five I didn’t. There weren’t even seats for them all, some of the less fortunate having to stand beside the walls. Why had my father invited so many? 

A gradation of harp notes played a sweet tune, spurring me to step into the chapel. 

My father beamed at me from his place at the top of the dias at the end of the aisle, just in front of the statue of Aslan. Edmund waited for me at the foot of the three stairs, looking so regal and composed that I didn’t know whether to envy him or worry that my nerves and dread made us an unequal match. 

As I reached the halfway point, I finally noticed Edmund’s sisters sitting on the right side—the groom’s side—and my brothers sitting on the left. While Queen Lucy lifted a quick hand to her already teary eyes, my brothers’ eyes were sharp. Following their gaze, I noticed Prince Rabadash leaning against the wall beside Queen Susan’s pew. 

When he saw me looking, he inclined his head. 

I quickly averted my eyes, trying to push the Calormen prince out of my mind. He may have been the reason for this wedding, but he would not be the center of it. 

It felt like an eternity before I reached Edmund. “I forgot to say,” he whispered as I took his hand, “you do look very nice.”

Instantly more at ease, I grinned at him as I held up my skirts to step up on the dias. As we faced my father, the king, my smile softened. Weddings were special days for fathers and daughters. For all that led up to this moment, it would still be a special day. 

“I think some part of me always knew this day would come,” my father began, looking at me with something so similar to pride, it nearly made my throat close. “King Edmund and my daughter have always had such a special bond, it seems this day was inevitable.” He placed his hands over his heart, looking over at the man holding my hand. “But to call King Edmund my son-in-law is a privilege I feel unworthy of.”

My smile slipped, and I lowered my eyes, trying to get my feelings under control before the guests could notice. 

“Putting feelings aside, this day will go down in history as the day Narnia,” my father gestured towards Edmund, “and Archenland,” and then gestured to himself, “swear loyalty to each other for many years to come.”

I reached down to grab Edmund’s hand, only to find that it was already waiting for me. He held on tight enough to keep me steady as I stared at my father. Look at me, I pleaded. Look at your daughter as she’s getting married. 

But my father’s attention was wholly claimed by the crowd. The pride emanating from him was directed at them, proving that this wedding was not a celebration, but an opportunity for my father to show off. 

Raising my eyes, I noticed that at least the lion statue’s eyes seemed to look upon me. 

“Now the groom shall take the bride’s hands.” 

I stiffly turned to face Edmund, thankful for the anchor that was having his warm hands holding mine. 

“King Edmund, your vows,” my father prompted.

Edmund looked at me, and though his face was placid, I could sense his reluctance to recite whatever pompous and overdone words my father had chosen. 

"Today, in front of these witnesses, I, King Edmund of Narnia, take you, Princess Y/N of Archenland, as my wife.” Here Edmund paused, the small muscle above the right side of his top lip twitching. “I pledge to thee my unwavering love, my unfailing sword, and my undying service from this day forth. I will be thine companion, in great wealth or want, in much joy or sorrow, until death us do part." His voice rang out clearly, and my ears caught the sound of multiple sighs from the more sentimental guests. 

Apparently, they didn’t think my father’s expectations for ‘unfailing sword’ and ‘great wealth’ were as obvious as I did. Nor would they see the way my father’s nostrils flared for a moment as our eyes met. “Princess Y/N.” He glanced at the guests. “Your vows?”

In the resulting silence, I knew those sitting amongst the chapel pews were exercising much restraint in not immediately leaning into each other and whispering. 

I squared my shoulders, meeting Edmund’s eyes, which urged me to just spit out the vows and get it over with. We’d already made the vows that mattered. My words were just part of the show, not part of my marriage. 

“Today, in front of these witnesses, I, Princess Y/N of Archenland, take you, King Edmund of Narnia, as my husband.” I took a deep breath. “With…nothing else to give but my heart, I pledge to thee my unwavering faithfulness. As the great lion binds wisdom, so do I bind my life to thee, in love and honor, until the very last of my days.”

It was humiliating. Absolutely humiliating. 

My father’s vows focused on Edmund’s ‘unfailing sword’ and ‘great wealth’, yet I had ‘nothing else to give but my heart’? And why had my father written Edmund’s vows to end when death parted us, yet mine lasted until the end of my life? 

I blinked away frustrated tears. My friends—the windows, the pews, and the statue—were not the only observers today, and I would not have my father twist my bitterness into tears of joy for all those watching. Edmund squeezed my hand, and I knew from the same twitching above his lip that he regarded my father’s words with a distaste rivaling mine. 

“Now the groom will place his ring on the bride.” Edmund slid his old signet ring on my ring finger. It felt wrong on that finger, and not just because it was too large. “And the bride shall place her ring on the groom.” Again, I could feel the astonishment of all the guests, but Edmund held out his hand, smiling at me as I slid the plain silver ring onto his finger. The sight of it there was strangely gratifying. 

“Now, with the authority vested in me by the great lion, I now pronounce you, husband and wife!” My father clapped his hands. “King Edmund, you may kiss your bride!”

I stared dumbfounded at Edmund who stared back.

Kiss.

We hadn’t talked about the kiss.

I’d forgotten. 

How could I have forgotten?

A kiss was a staple in every wedding ceremony. 

My heart tumbled into a furious pace. I’d never kissed anyone before, and the fears started flooding in. Did people’s noses bump together when they kissed? Could you taste what someone ate for breakfast? Was it possible to run out of air? Would it hurt?

No. No, this was Edmund. It couldn’t hurt…could it?

-

Edmund had no clue what to do. He’d kissed a girl back in England, but not since he’d come to Narnia. Centaurs and fauns weren’t his type. And now he had to kiss his closest and dearest friend in front of a crowd? 

He wanted this—the mark of the beginning of the rest of their lives—to be good for Y/N. Or at least not horrible. Oh Aslan, what if it was horrible? What if their marriage had a horrible start? And what if she never wanted to kiss him again? 

A quick kiss. A momentary kiss. A barely-there kiss. Something so respectful that it could barely count as a kiss. Yes, that was the way to go.

With a gulp, Edmund leaned forward. He was perhaps two moments away from touching his lips to hers when he remembered: Rabadash was somewhere in this chapel. A man who could use anything as evidence and even more as motivation.

This was another chance, just like in the garden, to show that Y/N wasn’t and would never be Rabadash’s. 

Maybe Y/N would hate him for it. But maybe she would be safer. And maybe that chance was worth it. 

Edmund’s hands found Y/N’s neck, his thumbs gently tilting her chin up as he tipped his head to the side. The intent was only for the ease of reaching her lips, of guiding her to him, but then he glimpsed a flash of her scar, bringing him straight back to the drawing room and the gardens and every other time he’d been this close to kissing her. And now he was actually doing it. His mind went blank just before his lips met heaven. 

-

The brush of our lips was tentative. I hoped with every fiber of my being that Edmund couldn’t feel my shaking, nor the great grip I had on his doublet. 

Oh, I thought as Edmund pulled away. So our noses don’t collide. 

Then he pressed his lips to mine more firmly. My anxiety skyrocketed as the guests cheered, making my limbs lock tight. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? It didn’t feel like I’d expected it to feel like. Was this a dream? Was I about to wake up and find out this whole thing had been a dream?

His grip on my face tightened ever so slightly, a great tingling starting in my stomach as my heart raced. My face and neck were so warm, I was worried they might burn Edmund’s hands, certainly his thumbs as he brushed them along my jaw. Then as his lips pulled away and returned a third time, one of his hands left my neck to cradle my back, pulling me in tighter as the skin of my back beneath his hand smoldered.

This time, when Edmund pulled back, I leaned forward, winding my arms around his neck as I relaxed into his touch, the racing thoughts slipping away. Was I floating?

-

Edmund pulled away, cursing his own weakness in such an important moment. That was not a barely-there kiss, and if Edmund wasn’t already married to Y/N, he’d certainly have to wed her after a kiss like that. 

The raucous, ear-splitting cheering of the guests meant nothing to him as he anxiously searched Y/N’s face.

Her eyes were still shut. Why were they still shut? Had he hurt her? Or made her uncomfortable? The idea of doing either made Edmund shake inside. 

But when her eyes fluttered open, she gave a small giggle, almost too quiet for him to hear amongst the noise of the guests. The tension drained away from his body as he stared at her with overpowering relief that weakened his knees.

They’d done it, they’d made it through the ceremony. 

“Everyone is invited to a wedding feast in the Great Hall!” Y/N’s father proclaimed to the crowd, who cheered louder in response, who started filing out. King Loon hastened to walk around the couple, diving into the crowd, likely to try and find the influential guests before they sat down to eat. 

“You alright?” Edmund said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Y/N said, a bit breathlessly. “Are you?”

Edmund looked down at his friend…his wife and swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

-

Hopefully the kiss wasn't cringy, lol. If you enjoyed this, go check out my masterlist for more fanfic and keep an eye out for the next installment of White Moves First!

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

White Moves First tag list:

@thelifeofsecretpenguins @read-just-cant @chesh-ire-cat @emotionallyattachedteen @cassini-among-the-stars @uncontainedsmiles @mastermasterlist1p1 @goldfishinpainttubes @silverowl102 @daisyslife

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 2

Bless her she's trying

Cannot relate to being this excited to be back at school 😂

Is this going to be like Back to the Future where she ends up going back to 2022 and her brother is a famous actor instead of having a stressful office job

I would do the same tbh

Ah, I'm guessing he's her old crush from school and the other side of what I'm sure will be a love triangle. He's cute. Love me a bad boy.

Of course the bad boy is the guitarist in a band. LMAO first stan experience.

I mean high school girls aren't well known for their good taste. But come on he may not look like an idol but he's cute

Aww she confessed to him the day before she jumped into her teenage body

Confession: When I was in school I wrote a letter not quiet as poetic as this and gave it to my crush. I would legit be mortified if I had to relive that experience. I'm cringing now just thinking about it and it was nearly 30 years ago

She is not having a good day. Forced to relieve one of her most cringe memories and now rejected by her idol.

I appreciate the romantic gesture of him chasing after bus when she got stuck and couldn't get off but it's full of students so it can't have been going that far before it would have stopped again. They were acting like she was going to wind up in another city

All teenagers are annoying to some degree, especially when you're in your 30s

Oh, that's fun! If she tries to tell him about the future time freezes to stop anyone hearing

Ah, of course bad boy's dad is a cop

Time for some wound tending. No drama is complete without it.

All that time her idol lived opposite her and she had no idea. I'd be losing my mind.

OH! The pervy guy who won't return his rented copy of Basic Instinct is Sunjae's dad. Can't believe I didn't realise that until now

OMG SUNJAE HAD IT THE WHOLE TIME! I love how this flips from angsty to sweet to hilarious very quickly.

Of course she's got PTSD after getting hit by a car. But why are all these cars driving across a pedestrian crossing in the first place?

More emotionally significant umbrellas. Aww they actually met earlier when she mistook him for a package courier.

She's the reason he likes the sweets that she gave him in 2022 and she has no idea! Have I mentioned that I love time travel as a plot device?

Wait has he had a crush on her this whole time? Then all of a sudden (from his perspective) she started acting all weird and following him around. I kind of love this!

LMAO and he grabbed the nearest tape in a panic when she woke up and gave his dad's name. It was Basic Instinct of course. I love this! I have to say this drama isn't predictable at all. It's doing a lot of fun things with what could easily have been a very common tropey story

HE'S BEEN PINING THIS WHOLE TIME! Look how happy he is when she tried to friend him online. He clicked the reject button by accident. I am so delighted.

Ooh that photo just appeared on the table. The future is changing!

Okay, I am fully on board with this now. It's pushing all of my buttons.

[deepdrownlamentt]

hello hi beloved love of my life im sorry (im not sorry) for contributing to your masterlist turning into an alcohol menu but hear me out, tequila and phantom/specter/lumen (your horny your call whichever is the most pathetic and subsequently funniest) being jealous

the catch is that the thing that they're jealous over is so TRIVIAL like a new otome game? your pet??? your mom??????? theyre a wet sopping mess and im here for it

↬ courier, specter, and tequila jealousy hcs

content warnings: none

note: the emojis are actually dealing me psychic damage but i like writing dumb things so i will oblige........ sorry for the delay i am being slaughtered out here!!!!! get me out of uni!!!!!! i just want to vibe in peace!!!!!!

i think tequila May be a liiiiiittle ooc since i haven't . looked at his voicelines in a million years . and mine is trust 0 . but anyways i hope u enjoy !!!! xoxo etc

↬ COURIER doesn't think of himself as the type of partner that needs to constantly hog your attention, nor does he think himself so busy that he would leave you wanting. there's a certain balance to it, that much he's sure of — but he can't quite help but be disappointed if he finds something else occupying your mind when he finally has the time to hang up his coat freely and spend it with you.

↬not that he's quick to show it on his face, though. he's long since felt comfortable enough with you to drop any pretense of a fake, customer-service smile in your presence, after all. even then, it's very much clear from his raised eyebrows and confused blinks that he's rather surprised. or confused.

↬ perhaps he's gotten just a little spoiled by you — to the point that going for how many minutes without hearing the padding of your footsteps as you come over to greet him leaves him feeling a little odd. maybe you were busy! he rationalises to himself. maybe you got called away for a last minute meeting, and he just missed you on your way out—

↬ that is, until he hears the telltale little sound effects from a game on your phone you've told him about lately, and lo and behold, and his chest does a weird thing where it flutters and sinks all at once. on the one hand, he's glad it's just a game that's stolen your attention. on the other hand... it's just a game? he won't say anything, but if you notice anything for the next few days — going on more missions with you, or cooking you even more of your favourite foods than usual — then maybe the discreet little glances he spares your phone, making sure it's silent and face-down on the table, have something to do with it.

↬ it's rather preposterous to think that LAURENTINA would "stoop to so low a level," she says, that she would get jealous of something so minor. rather, she enjoys monopolising your attention, you see — and for your little predicament to steal your gaze away from her, well... that won't do, won't it?

↬ she teases you much more often, especially when she finds out what exactly it is that's distracting you lately: lingering touches on your shoulder or waist, sickly sweet calls of your name, or even her plucking your phone out of your hands with a sly little shark-toothed smile.

↬ if she really feels up to it, she might tease you more about your little distraction, too: oh? you want my attention, dear? i thought that little game of yours enraptured you much more. she loves watching the way you squirm, hearing how you hem and haw as you think of a response.

↬ of course, while she acts like she's above jealousy, she can still feel it simmering a little just under her skin — it's why her little teasing prods at you have become more frequent, though there's never any real ill intent behind any of them, and she's very intent on making sure you don't misinterpret her intentions. after all, she wants you to see what you're missing out on, not drive you away entirely!

↬ much like specter, TEQUILA claims that being jealous is "silly" — though it doesn't stop the exaggerrated way he pouts when your gaze is drawn elsewhere... at your phone, specifically. he doesn't seem the type to take it too personally, but as he jokes about oh, i didn't know your game was more distracting than me, there's a part of him that wonders what it would take to take your attention off of it entirely.

↬ there's a chance he might ask you on more dates than usual — even if it's something as simple as a late-night walk together, or chatting at the bar as rafaela prepares you drinks. there's also a chance he might be a little more physically affectionate than usual: his hand around your waist as you walk, resting his chin on your shoulder from behind as he watches whatever it is you're doing at the moment.

↬ in the end, though, the part of him that thought all of this was silly wins by the smallest, smallest margin; he might even ask you about it directly, if he gets the chance. and if you decide to gush about it, he listens with rapt attention — if you have a good time with it, then he's happy that you're happy, or something along those lines.

↬ but just for his sake, to appease the part of him that wanted to steal your attention back, it may be worth it to reassure (or maybe even tease) him a little in turn. just for the hint of satisfaction he might get for winning over pixels.

[mushroom-crew]

Reunions Pt 2

@offederationsfuture

Tilly groggily looks up from where she'd fallen to the floor, her hand coming up to her head on instinct. Sparks are flying everywhere. Groans and quick shuffling from other crew members resound as everyone tries to get back to their stations after that last wave out of the wormhole. Tilly barely manages to stand, finding her way to her own station and looking at the readings. "Feels like my head is in a vice"

"Tidal forces from the wormhole. Like G-force, but nastier." Reno pops up from where she'd managed to get up herself. "Must've knocked us all out, including my damn back." She groans, right as the ship hits something like an asteroid field, sending everyone spinning again.

Tilly barely holds on for dear life. Shields are down. They don't have navigation or warp. They barely have a way to land themselves down on the planet. Detmer manages to get them lodged in a patch of ice, successfully stopping them from exploding on impact with the surface, but still sending everyone flying again in the process.

It becomes abundantly clear once they land that they don't have communications, or truly any of the ship's functions online, outside of life support. Tilly's heart aches in her chest. "Michael's alone."

The words hang in the air for a moment. Saru takes a breath and begins to address the crew. "We are completely disconnected at present, yes. But. We are also together, and alive. If Commander Burnham landed elsewhere, I trust she is aware that we will find her as soon as we are able."

They go about repairs, quickly and efficiently. Tilly throws herself into her work. There's nothing else she can do right now. If she stops for even a moment, she knows she'll break down. Michael, somewhere out there, all alone. Their daughter, left behind in the past with no way of reaching them. She knows that if she lets herself think about it, the weight of it all will crush her.

She still can't tell them exactly where they are, but she finally gets the scans back of the nearby surroundings. What she finds is enough to give her a weary smile. In a flash, she's rushing off to find Saru and explain her findings. Pockets of air on the surface meant for sustaining life. Pockets that must have been made. She finds him checking on repairs in a hallway, and she quickly falls into step with him as she talks.

He looks down at her with a sad look. "Then we are not on Terralysium."

"No, sir." She shakes her head, tears springing back into her eyes for a moment, before she continues. "But there is evidence of an active settlement in one of these pockets, so there... There's life."

"There is... Life." Saru takes a moment to take that in. It worked. Their plan worked. Control did not destroy this future. No matter what, they have to hold onto that fact. Their mission was not a failure.

Their joy is short lived, however, when they discover that one of their communication transtators is need of a complete rebuild. Without the parts they need on the ship, Saru and Tilly brave the outside world, hoping to find help from the local settlement. Philippa demands to go with them, but Saru refuses. He cannot let her interfere with their first contact to the outside world.

The walk to the settlement is long and Tilly talks the whole way there. She's terrified of not knowing where they are, of what it means now that they're here. So many things could go wrong. So many things already have. Saru lets her talk, his own mind still reeling with all of the things that have happened. All he can do is trust in his crew, and trust that they'll find a way out of this mess. The way they always do.

When they reach the settlement, they're almost immediately held at gun point by the locals, who seem just as confused by them being Starfleet as they do by how they're reacting. It's a standoff until they come to a deal. Some of Discovery's dilithium for help with repairs and information.

Things are going well, until Zareh, the courier who's been exploiting the colonists, shows up and causes trouble. He demands that they take him to the Discovery, and kills one of the colonists when Saru refuses to do so. It's enough to make him decide to bargain, offering to give the courier some of their dilithium in exchange for their freedom and the safety of the colonists.

Once a deal is struck, Zareh turns to Tilly, slowly beginning to walk towards her. "Now you. I genuinely like you. I believe you'll come back with my property. So you're gonna go get me that dilithium. How about we wait here, where it's cozy. But be quick, Ensign. Come nightfall, the ice... well it does what parasites do. It infests everything. I've seen it get down someone's throat. But you look like you can handle yourself. Maybe you can outrun it. Explosives help. You forge yourself a path back to us once it's dark. Okay, sweetheart?"

Before she can answer, one of his men finds Philippa around the perimeter, dragging her into the bar with a surprising amount of ease. She stumbles in, still as cocky and assured as ever. "Did I interrupt a critical moment of diplomacy?"

Zareh lets out a dry chuckle and moves to sit down at the bar. "A one-woman tactical response. V'Draysh has officially reached its nadir."

Philippa just smirks and rolls her eyes. "A fancy vocabulary doesn't mean you're scary. It means you have a thesaurus."

"Shoot her," He growls out.

"No, shoot him! He's gonna get you killed." Philippa looks at the one holding her at gunpoint expectantly. "This is when you ask why."

He lets out a small sigh and raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Philippa grins widely, like the cat that got the canary. "Glad you asked. You think you're the only ones that saw a big ship fall from the sky? He knows your competitors probably detected the ship, and they're already on their way. But he hasn't told you, you're too weak to take them out, and you don't have the firepower."

"Enough!" Zareh rises from his seat, and pulls his own weapon, aiming it at her.

"I'm gonna enjoy this new world. If this idiot can run a settlement, then imagine what I could do in my sleep."

He shoots her as she turns to face him, the laser beam hitting her in the shoulder. It's not enough to kill her, but it's enough to send her reeling. "You've got a mouth, but I've got a gun."

He shoots her several times like that, having a sadistic sort of enjoyment in torturing her. She looks to Saru from where she's fallen to the ground, and he nods in understanding.

She gives it another moment before she rises to her feet, that self-assured smirk coming back to her face. Zareh raises an eyebrow and aims his weapon again. She kicks a barrel into his legs before he can shoot, sending him sprawling. Philippa and Saru manage to subdue, or in her case, kill their assailants, until there is only their leader sitting on his knees on the floor.

Philippa wants to kill him, but Saru refuses, instead letting the colonists decide his fate. They decide to send him out on his own come nightfall, let him fight his way through parasitic ice to find safety if he can.

Night comes sooner than the crew would hope, and it's almost completely dark by the time they're able to leave. One of the colonists gives them a personal transporter to make it to their ship without braving the ice, but it's still much to late to get Discovery off the ground.

They try to take off, to push themselves out of the ice with their thrusters, but it's too strong, they can't get through it alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another ship appears on scanners, and they all fear it's one of the many competitors looking to use their ship and their dilithium. The ship gets ahold of them with it's tractor beam, giving them that last little push they need to be free of the ice. Once they're free, the other ship hails them.

With communications finally back online, Saru decides to answer it. Whoever it may be, they need to try and communicate before more drastic measures are taken. "Open a channel, Mr. Bryce. We will face whatever or whomever has come for us together."

"Channel open."

Saru stands from the captain's chair and takes a few steps forward. "On viewscreen, please."

It takes several moments to get the viewscreen up running, the whole bridge crew waiting on baited breath for whoever will be on the other line. After what feels like an eternity, the screen finally comes on, revealing a smiling Commander Burnham on the other end. The crew lets out breaths of relief and small cheers at seeing her alive and well.

"Saru!" Her smile brightens as she says his name, her eyes watering slightly.

"Michael?" He looks at her in awe and complete disbelief. Her hair, her demeanor. If he didn't know her so well, he wouldn't believe it was her for a moment.

She nods and chuckles. "Yeah, it's me. We found you. We've been looking for so long."

Tilly puts her hands up to her mouth and sighs a breath of relief. At least Michael is home. Her heart breaks again in the same instant when she realizes she'll have to tell her that Jackie never made it back on board. A small quiet sob wracks through her and she turns away for a moment to compose herself.

Saru stutters and tries to find the words to say. "You... You're... You look--"

Michael shakes her head, her smile softening for a moment. "Saru... I landed here a year ago. I've been waiting for all of you, all this time."

Saru finds his voice after a moment, clinging onto the one thing he knows to be true right now. "So you know. Our mission was a success."

Michael lets out a small sigh, and nods. "Yeah, Saru, I do. But there's more to discuss once I come on board. It'll be two to beam down. I have a bit of a surprise."

Saru cocks his head slightly at the mention of a surprise, but he nods all the same. "Of course. We will be here for you when you arrive."

Michael clicks off the channel with another small nod, and turns to Jackie with a large grin. They finally found them. They're finally home. She holds out her hand to her daughter, happy tears welling in her eyes that she has to blink back. "You ready?"

[aquilamage]

more thoughts from playing Spearmaster so far (under the cut because oops I wrote a thousand plus words):

I wonder if there's an explanation for why the bits of overhearing broadcasts are things we can understand without having a Mark of Communication. Maybe because it's being beamed right into our brain? or it's just for the player and the slugcat doesn't get anything at all.

I'm pretty confident I will get the ability to understand at some point if only because we gotta find out what's on the pearl that was in Spearmaster. Especially with the emphasis on the game making sure you have a hold on the pearl when Five Pebbles kicks you out.

So far I've found broadcasts in Outskirts, Industrial, Pipeyard, Waterfront, Five Pebbles, and Chimney. It's been one each apart from Waterfront which rocked my assumption that I was good to stop searching once I found one.

really hoping that if we get pronouns for any other iterators there'll be at least one with something other than he or she. because.

Saw Looks to the Moon and Seven Red Suns' overseers on the same screen at least once and it makes me wanna scream. I don't recall seeing any of Five Pebbles' overseers until after I got to them but I could be wrong

Just below the top level of the Wall I found a new gate that has a new symbol I've never seen before! Three rows and three columns of dots in a square. No idea what's up with that but I'm very excited to find out once I figure out how to get that symbol.

I'm really in love with the new weird blue things in Five Pebbles' area, they're very charming to me for some reason. Accidentally threw a spear at one offscreen and it started throwing things back at me, which was cool. Also one wandered into a bug zapper light and they drop larger versions of the overseer eyes so what's up with that. Also if this is in the past I'm thinking those might turn into the tendril beasts since some of them are in the same places and also just their shape/color generally (and then I had the horrifying realization that the other tendril beast color is orangey.....like Looks to the Moon's overseers and probably her version of those things).

I'm currently hypothesizing that the Downpour slugcats but Spearmaster especially might be purposed beings. Partially because that would explain why they're so radically different from both the original slugcats (which were all basically the same) and each other. and spearmaster's biology especially out of the four seems the least like something that would naturally occur (checking their info card, it's literally called an "abnormality").

But mostly because the broadcasts I found in Outskirts, Industrial, and Pipeyard (one each) talk about 7RS having previously sent sensitive info over a pearl and are currently doing it again. The specific wording they use is "I purposed a messenger." That combined with Spearmaster's little info card text about being set out "once again, messenger" making it pretty clear that it was the courier slugcat both times for 7RS makes me pretty confident about this hypothesis.

7RS sending something? sensitive to Five Pebbles the first time that he wasn't in a good mental state to use right. Briefly pondered if that was the Chimney "how to circumvent the self-destruction taboo" pearl (and maybe that was what he was trying to do that fucked up the water supply. I do think 7RS might have been one of the other members of the sliverofocean EP pearl. If they knew EP was Five Pebbles then maybe.....) but I can't think of a good reason why the pearl would then end up there since the message definitely reached Five Pebbles.

Screaming and biting things about the line "The fact is, he really looked up to me. As much as I gave him a hard time, that's not something I took lightly."

I feel like at least Spearmaster is supposed to be set pre-basegame but at this point I'm still not really sure. Past implications: Not-Shoreline having some areas less broken; one of the broadcasts I ran across in Waterfront was of Looks to the Moon attempting to communicate with Five Pebbles, which I've been assuming she can't do in basegame (this one doesn't directly say it's live but for now I'm assuming it is); the easy route through Pebbles' area at least doesn't have any rot tendril stuff (I didn't check the Unfortunate Development section because I didn't want to be dying extra much and by the time I noticed I'd already committed to easy path). Future implications: the convo with NSH and 7RS from Pipeyard I found where they very much seem to be referencing Hunter and NSH getting their help.

The biggest thing I'm obsessing over is thinking about Seven Red Suns vs No Significant Harassment on the subject of slugcat messengers.

First, the bit of dialogue on it where 7RS says "At least I used it for something more...practical." Which assuming they're talking about the Hunter stuff then WOW. Not knowing the contents of 7RS's initial message I can't judge if that's correct (NSH seems to doubt it, but I don't think they know what it was either), but even if they are that's a pretty callous way to describe an attempt to save Looks to the Moon (also I don;t think the "and the messenger even returned safely" bit is necessarily meant to be a jab at NSH but I did have that thought at one point so. noting that)

Anyway for the actual methods, Hunter vs this Spearmaster. The fact that 7RS has an overseer guide them and NSH doesn't is interesting to think about. This one I think might be a bit more of a gameplay difference but maybe not. I also do have to note that I don't know right now what resources the two of them have at the time of the game modes. Which also makes wondering what the reason is for there not being an overseer guiding Spearmaster after Five Pebbles. Again, might just be a game design thing, but it might also be they don't have more to spare! Or maybe they aren't bothering because they got what they needed out of Spearmaster (although my mind does go back to their bit about the messenger returning the first time. That makes it feel like something they might want to happen again. Unless something changed)

On a higher priority than that is the giving of the gift of communication. If 7RS has the ability to do that (and if they made Spearmaster I would assume at least then they would), then what does it say about them that they wouldn't give understanding to a messenger they're using again? Could they be trying to hide something? Is it like a 'you don;t absolutely need it so I'm not bothering.' Or if they can't do that, maybe that's why they're going through the effort of using an overseer to guide Spearmaster.

And then even bigger than that is that they decided to stitch the data pearl message into Spearmaster's body such that the only way to get it out was to rip it out. What the fuck?? Spearmaster's sprite after having the pearl taken looked super bad; that was not painless for sure. This is the one where there really isn't a second way to look at it.

My guess for the reasoning behind doing that rather than just giving it to Spearmaster to hold is that 7RS wanted to make absolutely sure the pearl wouldn't get lost. (my mind goes back to the use of the word "practical" in that one broadcast. I know they were talking about the reason, not the method, but still) And it worked! But it definitely puts them in a light that is not the kindest.

And I don't know why, but currently I'm kinda leaning towards the more ruthless explanations in general for this (ruthless in the sense of cold practical "I see the most straightforward way to get to my goal and I take that no matter what the means are" but not actively purposefully cruel). It certainly would make for the most interesting version of their character, even if it distresses me.

Also if we take those kinds of explanations plus them creating Spearmaster then this is a fascinating story of Seven Red Suns replicating the ancient-iterator relationship. Of creating a being specifically for the purpose of fulfilling something you want, of denying them of something in your creating of them, of using them and then abandoning them to fend for themself.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: Sun in eyes

BONUS COMIC REVIEW: 

Issue 17 mini comic: Marc Spector - The Worship of False Idols

You guys. You guys have no idea. This is it. This is the reason I fell utterly in love with Moon Knight. I'm so excited.

When I found Moon Knight (I'll get to that discovery in a later review) I just had to know who he was. I stayed up all night downloading and reading everything. 

When I got to this piece it must have been 3am and this is what made me obsessed. 

What's hilarious is that this mini comic comes at the end of a really dramatic Marc Spector heavy issue in which he's dark and angsty and violent. 

And then...You get this. This delightful idiot man that's just doing his best. 

Let's get into it! 

I wonder if this image of Marc might be what inspired Doctor Grant from the show. 

We open with Marc holding a machete and making his way through a jungle in South America. 

Narration: Long before there was a Moon Knight, there was Marc Spector. Though he wore but a single name, he operated under many guises... Soldier of fortune, treasure seeker, courier, mercenary, were a few of those guises. 

He was a man whom Moon Knight can now look back on with only slender pride - A strong man, yes, and thoroughly determined, but often a ruthless man, one who braved danger only for money. This is one of his stories." 

Such lovely narration. Painting a picture of a gruff killer for hire out for a buck and not afraid to get dirty for it. 

We see him hacking his way through a jungle and complaining the whole time. 

"Must've hacked my way through thirty miles of this green hell..." 

He had previously met with a drunken archeologist (probably at a bar) who told him about a beautiful ugly idol made of solid gold. 

He finds a clearing and there sits the idol 

He doesn't find this suspicious at all. 

There's going to be a lot of screenshots in this review. 

(flat in the dirt again.) 

The dog apparently belongs to an archeologist nearby. His wife comes out of the tent, remarking that he's probably out drinking again. (Marc's info source). 

She looks around and notices the Idol is missing. She shrugs and goes back to the tent. 

She has a busy day tomorrow if she's to keep looking for a big discovery that she thinks is very near. 

Marc wakes in a dark underground cavern. 

Now we get to watch this poor man try to think this through. 

"But I can't carry any more than I've already got.

Maybe I should substitute-take something else-something better...

No-The archaeologist in the bar said this idol is the choice one--the one that'll command the highest price from collectors and museums--worth far more than its weight in gold.

But if I leave now, I'll never find this place again. Not before those archaeologists do--and by then they'll have armed guards swarming this place... 

Got to decide now-cuz I won't be able to change my mind later..." 

Marc decides to keep the one he already has. 

He follows a draft and finds himself in a bat cave with Guano up to his calves. 

Oh Marc…Oh no…

Oh no.

Oh no

Marc no…

Marc no…stop…

Buddy…pal….Beloved hero of my heart…

I mean…He saves them. Marc isn’t as heartless as he thinks he is. Just cause he’s having a bad day doesn’t mean they have to have one too. 

And now… I give you my hero. The light of my life. My obsession. My sweet cheese. My good time boy.

Damn Marc, that’s a nice leg. 

Marc makes it back to the town. 

He staggers towards where he's staying, looking forwards to a week in bed and then cashing in his idol for the sweet sweet dough (get that bread Marc). 

Suddenly, his thoughts of rest are interrupted by someone shouting "Three Dollars American!" 

He looks over to see the archeologist and his wife talking. 

She admonishes him for taking so long to get back to the newly discovered temple....then asks him why he keeps guying the cheap plaster idols. 

Marc looks over to a stand with a man selling "Genuine Inca idols straight from the temple of the sun!"

This is Marc Spector everyone. Mercenary dark and tormented and angry and violent killing machine Marc Spector. 

The man that can’t forgive himself and that no one loves easily. A man that is hated and feared. 

I don’t read Moon Knight for the dark action. I read Moon Knight for moments like this. 

This is what made me fall in love. Not the white cape, the mental health, the DID, the religiously tortured soul, the hero that needs saving…

This man that is having the worst time and still he stumbles into the sunset because DAMN IT he worked hard to get there and he’s going to get something out of it… But at the end of the day, he’s no further along than the rest of us. 

He probably had a drink and went to bed after this. Maybe laughing to himself. Maybe laughing about all the close calls. Maybe crying a little. 

But he didn’t go back to rob the excavation site. He said “Not today. Not this time.” and went on with his life. 

And he told no one of this, because he’s Marc fucking Spector and he has a reputation. 

So I leave you with this. The best image of Marc Spector I’ve ever seen. The true meaning and mood of Moon Knight I’ve ever seen. 

This pretty much just sums up his life: 

(And somewhere, Khonshu looked at this mess and said “That’s the one. That’s the one for me. My son!”)

[mrfluke]

mmm fallout oc shit

okeydokey, drank enough to not be having a mental breakdown and i can think (there goes my 30 day sober challenge, thanks genetics) so while i got this brief moment of lucidity ima give a rough timeline of how abe's story is gonna work. FO3 - F:NV - Frontier - FO4 I know that seems weird, but stay with me and the mental gymnasium i've built. Everyone is aware of the poor writing and choices in (supposedly) F3, (especially) F4 and (rightfully) in The Frontier. However, where others have rightfully lambasted them, I in my infinite wisdom and narcissistic ego to make it fucking better, have implemented those factors into Abe's character. Abe is a (undiagnosed) Schizophrenic, partly because he hid it from James (whether it worked or not, James didn't say anything, headcanoning James is also schizophrenic/like Abe in a way) and partly because due to him being numb to it, he got used to it. Fallout 3, while it did happen, is unreliably narrated via being in a semi coma dream, psychosis and the start of Abe's drug abuse in the later half of it. It's left up in the air about how much really happened, apart from the main story beats of the main quest. After F3 and it's dlc, Abe goes to F:NV. Checked the timeline so it's possible he did accidently fuck the divide. F:NV plays out how it usually does (apart from the frontier). Apart from a few bits here and there, I'd say Abe is either mostly lucid during those events, or I'll roleplay him going off the deep end every now and then. I'm planning on wildcard ending, as it feels fitting since FNV has the courier as the joker, as well as I feel like Abe, while he respects Mr.House, would go "Nah. I can do it better" and kill, taking vegas for himself. The Frontier is the most intresting to me, as it has moments with hallucinations, drug trips, and painting the courier as a messiah, something I agree with most defeats the point of the courier. They're meant to be a no name wastelander that somehow gets wrapped up in the events of NV in their search to kill Benny. However, I think it's perfect for Abe. What I'm planning is that Abe stops taking drugs after lonesome road and before the frontier, and in the midst of withdrawals he catches wind of the ncr fuckfaces (i can't be arsed to remember them) and decides to sign up to keep himself busy, earn some caps and try to ween off the drugs. He'll follow the NCR story line, and all it's issues, under non (self) medicated psychosis and withdrawals, which (halfarsed I'll admit) explain away the horrible writing and grand showman ship. Abe is in the midst of going off god knows how much apart from cigarettes, and with everything that's happened so far he's in a midst of a psychotic episode during it due to stress, being the lone wanderer, and seeing what he could do to the Mojave. FO4 Is Abe, 29 years old and clean off drugs, deciding to go on a semi vacation to the commonwealth hunting for vaults and getting caught up in the whole shaun situation after wanting to see where the rabbit hole goes. It's still a work in progress, mostly because modding FO4 makes my blood boil, but once I get that sorted, I'm looking forward to after playing abe through all that, he'll react to everything going on.

[kochi999]

A story about taking a chalk virginity.

I can't put it here, so I'll just say the lines.

The comics are here→POIPIKU　[作業進捗] R18(全7枚) ジョシュアグラハムとチョークと - コチ@hi_cocoa999のポイピク | イラストとか箱「ポイピク」 (poipiku.com)

PATOREON　KOCHI | All I do is draw FALLOUT sexual fan art. | Patreon

I was going to draw a naughty cartoon of Joshua, but I couldn't draw him in a cool way at all, so that's what I lost the will to do halfway through.

The HUDE-OROSI ritual…? I'm going to take chalk's virginity?

Normally it's done by the eldest woman in the village, but now you're the eldest. I'm sorry for being old… but I'm an outsider… You don't understand my consideration to address you from the city to Chok who has a longing for the city…

You don't care about my intentions, do you? A virgin is a delicate thing, so don't make her wait and feel uneasy.

You have no veto… I don't mind if I do. I'll take your virginity as soon as I can, don't worry… Wait a minute. What?

No female is allowed to penetrate you… and no cowgirl is allowed… and as acting chief, I'll be there.

What the fuck is wrong with that fucking rule? What a pervert. Well… since this old man won't listen to me once I say it, let's just get it over with. Wow, you're good… you've got a good thing going here. Please refrain from any inflammatory behavior on the part of the ladies. The man has to insert himself first, Chook. You're treating me like a masturbator… Whoa! It's huge. All right, Choke, let's see you move. This is… not bad… of course the strokes aren't great, but it's so big that the way it's bouncing around near my pouch is exquisite..! It's not too loud… but it's not too loud… and it's not too loud. It's nice because it's less stressful on me. All right, Chalk, pick up the courier's body. Hmm?　　Ugh..! Hey..! Ass… ⁈ Well, it's not like it's the first time you've done this, so why do it? By the looks of it, I'd say it's impossible for the choke to reach your ass, so I'm going to have to physically narrow it by inserting it into your ass as well. Don't talk about other people like they're governors!

You inserted it almost unprepared, and it's loose all the way up to your ass, so you're not very convincing. How rude is this old man…! Oh… oh… Joshua… that's tight..! What? Chalk, try to hold on a little longer.

Choke sounds prettier than you, girl. There it is… Chalk, is that it? You can still do it, right? Joshua… Oh, my God, you're making me hard again. What kind of obscenity is this guy talking about?

I'm gonna have to do my collaborators a service. This guy…! He's too good..!

What? This is all it takes? It's not like this, is it? Wait a minute… wait..! Wait? Wait for what? Ejaculation? Don't worry. I've just inserted myself into you, and I'm gonna keep you entertained until morning. Choke, don't enjoy it, but you need to learn how to attack it, and you need to push on the front side here. Uh-uh. Uh-uh! That's good, Choke. Your clitoris is too soft, you need to work on it. You think you can take control with that? You're getting such a kick out of just stroking it, whore, how many times are you going to get it done?

I'll stop! I'm going to take a break! Okay, I'll finish you once.

I've been cumming all day..! I'm going to die..! Joshua, I can't take it anymore… Ohhhhh…

Are you rested? Now that you're warmed up, let's get to work. We'll start with some hip training.

Oh, God… they're killing me… Joshua, I want to go home… After that, Joshua trained us both until morning.

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.4)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

Chapter 4

The next morning I woke to the sound of a doorbell. I looked at my phone surprised to notice that I had slept past my alarm. I rubbed my eyes groggily as I threw on a hoodie to run downstairs and answer the door.

For the rest of the day yesterday, I nursed my now much-improved burn in between daydreaming about Matty. I'd say his name out loud and let the sound of it linger on my tongue, loving how it felt. I thought about the curls that fell across his forehead, the vision crystal clear, as if my heart had memorized his every hair. I felt giddy and inspired, drawing sketches late into the night of pieces I wanted to make that felt the way he had made me feel. 

As I lay down in bed, ready for another couple hours of tossing and turning until I finally could fall asleep, I finally let the fear seep in- what if I was reading into things too deeply? What if I'd made it all up? Maybe he was just a friendly and kind man- that couldn't be too unreasonable to imagine. After all, there was a photo of him kissing the other man. What seemed more unreasonable was the idea that this man could be single- how could someone so sweet and handsome not have a partner? After ruminating on the thought, I finally accepted that I had probably let myself read into his body language too much- I must have imagined him leaning in. After all, I had been the one to lean into him for a kiss. He probably was just waiting for me to leave, not watching the montage of us falling in love as I had been.

The doorbell rang again as I yanked on Matty's hoodie and ran down the stairs in my socks. Skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, I opened the door to find a postman holding a box. The man asked me to sign for the package, and I told him it must be a mistake- I hadn't ordered anything online since I first moved in, and I wasn't expecting any packages from my family or friends.

But I looked down and saw that it was addressed to Anna Burn Victim. I would have laughed if I hadn't been so shocked. My hands shook as I signed for the package and I forced myself to act casual until the door was safely locked behind me and I could bolt up the stairs to rip open the box.

Inside the heavy box were a second box and a small envelope that said Anna in charmingly messy handwriting. I opened the envelope to find a letter in the same handwriting.

Anna,

I hope you don't mind that I stole your address from my Uber history to mail you your apology gift. I know this isn't enough, but I hope it's a start. I also wanted to ask you if you'd like to meet me for a drink at Florence's- it's halfway between both our places. I can't see myself finding anything worth giving you that can even begin to make up for what I did to you, but I don't think a drink at an overpriced pretentious wine bar could hurt. Would tonight at 7 pm work for you? Here's my number: +4479754328967. Let me know.

x Matty

I sat down on my bed in complete shock. I couldn't believe what I had just read. I reread it once more, then again, and again. I let the words sink in, scanning for anything I could have missed that made me misinterpret his letter. When I couldn't find anything I stared out my window, stunned and in silence.

He wanted to see me again. 

I immediately flipped over onto my bed, scrambling towards my phone, too distracted by my excitement to consider playing it cool and waiting a few hours to text him.

Hi Matty, you're just in luck. My burn victim's support group ends at 7 pm tomorrow night, so I'll be free to torture you a little longer with this joke 😘

I could see him start to type his response right away, thankful that he also wasn't interested in playing things cool.

Considering I've had to wait a full 24 minutes since the courier left my place to hear back from you, I think I might also do with joining a support group of sorts- do you know if they have any for lonely and impatient arsonists? 

I giggled out loud and before I could type my response, he'd started typing again.

Btw, don't gorge yourself too much on your treats. Florence has the best charcuterie board in the city.

I scratched my head in confusion. "Oh!" I exclaimed, remembering finally about the box he'd sent with the letter. 

I reached over to pick up the hefty box. Lifting the lid, I gasped at the contents.

There had to be at least 50 cookies from the coffee shop inside. The cookies I'd told him were my favourite. The same cookies that sell out early in the morning every day. The same cookies that the shop doesn't take bulk orders for. 

After staring at the box for too long, I came to, remembering I hadn't responded yet to Matty's text.

WTF HOW DID YOU GET THESE?

I tapped my toe impatiently on the ground as I watched him type. 

I have my connections 😉

Anyways, unfortunately, have to run off- my meeting got rescheduled to today and I should've left a few minutes ago for it. I'll see you tonight, and please make sure to grab me any burn-enthusiast's anonymous pamphlets you see. Enjoy the cookies  x

I was so grateful I'd been sitting because my legs felt like jello. I fell backward onto my bed, my brain spinning. I couldn't wrap my head around what he'd done- what he'd said. This beautiful man had somehow gotten his hands on 50 of the most coveted cookies in all of London, written me a letter by hand, couriered it over to my house, and asked me out. The fact that he'd thought about me at all since yesterday was already enough to send me over without all the other things he'd done.

I lay like that trying to process everything for a long time before noticing that I was ten minutes into my booked studio time. I threw on some jeans, slipped on some splattered Crocs, and grabbed an old crewneck to replace Matty's hoodie with, not wanting to soil his sweater with the clay I'd be working with. I pulled the crewneck over my head and grabbed my keys to run out the door, lost in the thought of what I should wear to my date later that night.

[hystericfae]

courier going to the bathroom: ugh can't believe I have to piss again, my shithead bladder is interfering with my work -_- this is most unbecoming for me to experience

GIRL that sentence takes me OUT everytime you say it 😭😭 where do you think he even stops to go pee cause surely he's not riding his way back and forth to piss-? He's gotta be well acquainted with some poor gas station cashier who sees him come in 7 times to piss and then buy a pack of cigs 😩

Unless he just pisses on the floor....where the FUCK does Cutthroat piss???? I feel like he whacks it around like it's a hot golden sprinkler or something ...but WHERE

[nine-of-words]

No Vacancy (Part One)

M Merfolk x M Orc Reader

STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 2981

Content Warnings: Astraphobia, Spawning, Slit Fingering, Oral Sex (Reader Performs)

Originally I planned on posting this for mermay, but the passage of time is my greatest enemy. :')

Well… This is about as prepared as you're going to be for this cyclone.

You've battened down every hatch. You've checked and double-checked the stabilizing wards. You’ve readied your backup generator, just in case a rogue, magically charged wave manages to overload the ship’s ley grid.

You’ve convened with your singular, unwaveringly faithful employee, Rosing - whom could care less about the coming storm, which she referred to as a ’drizzle’. 

Ah, to have the calm confidence of a middle aged kobold woman…

But most importantly, you've assured your passengers that you've run this open ocean route through heavily stormy conditions hundreds of times before and are well equipped to handle it, so they don’t need to worry.

That didn't stop some of them from continuing to fret - landlubbing tourists in the above deck rooms, of course. The merfolk occupying your various submerged rooms below deck haven't expressed so much as a peep of concern. They never do.

Now watching the heavy rain start to roll in, you can't help but think of how difficult it would be to swim in those storm churned waters.

You're at full capacity now, and you had expected your merman friend to stop and rest as he usually does during his longer courier runs, but you haven't seen head or tail of him yet.

You have found yourself looking out at the water more than once, absentmindedly scanning the spaces between white caps for his bright blue dorsal fin cresting the surface. 

Eyes skimming the water one last time as the downpour becomes unbearable even for you, you sigh, and head back inside to your cabin.

He probably just didn't need to stay this time, you assure yourself. You just hope that he’s somewhere safe from the impending storm.

You strip out of your rain gear in the open bridge area before walking into your sleeping quarters, so as to not make any puddles on the floor. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep after climbing into bed, more fatigued than you realized and rocked to sleep by the familiar roll of the ocean.

You wake later with a start to the sound of something heavy thudding loudly on the deck above you, audible even over the howl of the strong winds and pelting rain.

What was that? 

Probably equipment or supply crates bumping against the gunwales from the force of the storm. Usually nothing to worry about, but that sounded louder than normal, and something may have broken loose despite your detailed preparations. At worst, a thrill-seeking passenger decided to take a stroll in the storm and is in grave peril…

Caution wins out, and you rouse yourself from your comfort.

Hurriedly, you jump out of bed, pull on your raincoat and the pair of waxed trousers you have set out for tomorrow, and step into your boots. You have the foresight to grab your handheld spotlight as you head out of your cabin to go investigate.

The raging winds whip about you as you take a step out onto the open deck of your ship, shielding your face from sea spray with your forearm, your free hand holding you steady. Your eyes follow the beam of light through the poor visibility, searching for the source of the noise.

A lone crack of lightning streaks across the sky, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It doesn’t take long to locate a familiar pop of vibrant color. Beautifully reflective azure scales illuminate under the focused beam of the spotlight, stark against the greyed out haze of your surroundings. 

Sprawled out across the wooden planks is your dear friend - mostly limp and listless, being tossed around across the slippery surface with the force of each strong wave. He's managed to wrap the guide rope up around one of his hands, holding on for dear life as he's pelted by the elements.

"Noa!" You shout to the merman over the tumult of wind and rain and thunder, your body rushing into motion without active thought.

He weakly lifts his head at your voice, but if he responds, it's completely drowned out. He’s not shifted his tail into legs for some reason - so you steel your resolve to carry him in.

After stowing your spotlight in your pocket and waiting for a break in the onslaught of waves, you heave the merman’s body up with a grunt of effort. There is a surprising density to his athletic, piscine form, like that of most merfolk. 

The motion of hauling heavy loads of fish may still be second nature, but you've grown a bit soft in the middle since your fishing boat days. Life as a ferry ship captain carting tourists around the various island chains of the Indra-Thalassic isn't anywhere near as physically grueling - something you're thankful for, even if it makes this situation slightly more challenging.

You wobble slightly on the path back, your boots threatening to lose traction on the slippery deck from the uneven weight. 

Much more distracting is the feeling of his damp, smoothly scaled body against your fingertips. You can’t help the way you feel about him, despite how much you’ve tried to quash it over the course of your friendship… And you certainly don’t think it’ll ever be reciprocated, so you’ve resigned some time ago to continue to keep it to yourself. 

He would have to be the one to initiate a relationship anyway, due to Orcish standards…

But now is not the time to ponder this. So you brush those thoughts away, and try hard to focus on getting you both back to safety.

Luckily, you know your ferry ship like the back of your hand, and you manage to navigate back into the main cabin despite the treacherous weather and low light.

You carry your friend across the threshold like a prized catch. The heavy door shuts on its own behind you with a thud.

“Can I get a room?” Noa asks wryly, his voice tired.

You can't help but laugh.

"Boat's full up." You say simply, and then think to clarify as you glance out the porthole; "But I’m not turning you away in this mess. You can share my cabin for the night."

“Thanks.”

“You alright?”

“I’ll live. Just… too tired for legs right now.” He weakly motions to where his tail sways beneath your grasp.

"Got it. ...Now where to put you, then…" You wonder aloud. “Ah, I know.”

You enter your personal quarters, pass the alcove where your bed is, towards the head. The compact corner tub seems a good enough place as any to store a merman that’s physically incapable of shifting at the moment, so you carefully deposit him there.

“Huh. Neat.” Noa remarks, leaning back against the broad edge of the tub and removing his waterproof courier pouch. His bright eyes run over the bathroom fixtures in interest, his coiled braids quivering softly with the slight movement of his head.

From what he’s told you of his life, he hasn't spent a lot of time on land, so you have to wonder if he’s ever even seen a bathtub in person before.

“You must be cold and sore after all that.” You sit on the edge of the tub and turn the faucet, letting comfortably hot water rush over his flank and begin to fill the tub.

“Ah… That’s… nice.” He relaxes considerably.

"Why on Hearth were you out swimming during a cyclone?”

"Couldn't pass up the job, the gold was way too good." He sighs, holding a spread hand to his brow. "But the storm came in too fast, even for me."

He always seems to be working himself too hard. It makes you worry for his health…

“Mmn. How’d you get up on deck?”

“Jumped.” He says, far too nonchalantly for the impressive feat of agility he’s describing.

"Ah." You chuckle in admiration. “You’re amazing.”

“Keep telling me that and my head will get fat.” He smirks.

“Where were you going that was that important, anyway?”

Noa simply growls, throwing his head back in frustration and scrubbing his face with his palms.

"Sorry. That bad?"

"No. Just- don't worry about it." His brow knits, and his tail slaps the edge of the acrylic in irritation with a hollow thump. "I just… had a second stop there’s no way I’m going to make now. Stupid delivery held me up…"

“Hmmm. That’s rough.” You rub your beard, steering the conversation to a topic that will cause him less distress. “...You know, I don't think I've ever seen your colors like this. Did you always have so much purple in your scales?"

Noa’s scales are usually a gradient of blue and white, with stark white horizontal stripes lining his sides. But now his fins are an almost ultraviolet purple, with the darkened shade of his blue scales making the purple accents pop. The small, thin fins on his hips flutter rhythmically under the rising water.

"No, it's… seasonal."

That makes sense, you suppose. You don’t see him much at all during the migratory months.

“Suits you, is all.” 

You chat a bit more, until the tub has sufficiently filled. You cut off the flow with a metal squeak of the knob and rise to your feet.

It’s difficult to pull yourself away - you would spend so much more time with him if you could. And you may or may not be enjoying this view… as guilty as you feel for it.

"I should get some more rest before daybreak. But I'll be right over there if you need anything." You motion to where your bed is nestled into the wall.

"Thank you again." Noa nods, the grateful smile and sense of relief in his body language more than enough gratitude. "For always being here when I need you."

"Haha, not a problem at all, my friend."

You second guess stripping back down to your underclothes now that you have company, but your desire for comfort wins out. The humid air from the storm all but requires it. 

So you do, and quickly switch off the lights before returning to your bed for some much needed rest after all this excitement.

You hazily wake up what must be a few hours later, to the sound of water sloshing and wet footsteps. It'd be irritating being woken up for the second time in one night, if you weren't used to it coming with the territory. Something always needs attention on a boat.

More than anything, you're confused. Then, you remember - Noa is in your cabin tonight. 

"Nnnh-?" You go to say his name, instead being abruptly silenced by the sight you register.

Noa is standing on his own strong legs at the foot of your bed, water rapidly wicking off his completely bare skin. The saturated color of his scales is even more apparent in the brief flashes of light from the storm outside.

"Cold." He says simply, quietly, staring you down with a strangely intense look in his eyes.

Ah, the tub water must've gone cold.

You grunt in acknowledgement, holding up your quilt and motioning for him to join you without putting too much thought into it. 

Noa doesn’t seem to need an explicit verbal invitation, climbing up onto your raised bed without a problem.

But rather than the slightly awkward warmth of sharing a blanket at a platonic distance you were expecting, you get something much different.

He straddles you, his weight pressing sweetly against your groin. From this angle you have a clear view of the pink flush on his lower stomach, framing his swollen, needy genital vent, even in the low light.

“Noa?” You finally inquire, your voice still froggy as you let the raised quilt slip from between your fingers. Certain parts of your body are waking up faster than others.

“I was going to Spawn. That's where I was headed,” He finally admits in a pained, breathy response. “Thought I could make it in time… But…"

Well, the subtext there is pretty clear.

You’re stunned for a moment, unsure that this is really happening, or if you’re still dreaming. It’s not every day the object of your unrequited affection crawls into your bed and essentially asks for sex.

Noa presses his hips flush against yours and grinds, restless and agitated in his movements, as if you needed any more confirmation of what he wants.

Your body has taken little time to react, given your pre-existing affection for him. You can feel the persistent throb of your newly erect cock as it prods against Noa’s pelvis.

You know you shouldn’t… that this will end in heartache, like it normally does for you… You’re fairly sure Noa isn’t typically into men and is just desperate, and that never ends with anything that lasts longer than arrival at the next port.

…But it’s him. 

The rubbery soft skin gliding against your own makes your head empty of any other thought, valid concern or not. Not to mention the pressure and movement against your loins starting to let it take the helm over your brain.

“You know I need something a little more direct than that to work with.” You say, the taboo of initiating on your end the only thing still holding you back.

“Please,” Noa all but begs, his voice shuddering. “I need… Nngh… Help.”

Thunder cracks outside, breaking the silence, followed by a flash of lighting illuminating Noa’s form on top of you.

Ultimately, you are weak. You can’t resist, and start rubbing yourself against him in turn from beneath.

An excited, ragged sigh escapes Noa’s chest in response.

Oh. You definitely need to hear more of that.

You reach down, drawing a line with a finger along the edge of his swollen slit, enjoying the way he squirms at the sensation. Then you press your finger inside, immediately sinking in deep from the copious amount of natural lubricant.

Noa gasps in surprise and a brief look of panic flashes across his face, before it’s completely obliterated by an expression of enjoyment, his eyes glazing over from watching your fingers thrust in and out of his own body so easily. The muscles around his opening start to contract rhythmically around the intrusion, squeezing you.

You pull your fingers out when you feel Noa’s phallus start to emerge, rigid but still slightly squishy to the touch.

Noa shifts to hover over you, balancing his weight on his palms and knees, and you allow yourself to be pressed back against the bed. The ends of his braids tickle your exposed chest.

“Aah- Never done this out-  outta the water.” He chokes out in warning. “Or with a man-”

You want to reach upwards - hold the back of his neck firm and kiss him - and for a moment you’re tempted to act on the impulse. But, you resist.

"It's not all that different." You reassure him. “I don’t have any lube at the moment, so my mouth will have to do.”

Noa grunts in approval, clearly fine with whatever he can get at this point.

You hook your legs on the edge of the bed and shift your body downward using your calf strength. Your mouth trails down Noa's chest and torso as you go, until you're at hip height, staring down his now throbbing cock.

Grip firm on his hips, you guide him into your mouth. Noa, unsurprisingly, tastes a bit like the ocean, a subtle hint of salt pooling on your palette..

He immediately lets out a shuddering gasp that morphs into a groan, hips bucking forward in automatic, biological need.

Your curved tusks press against the firm muscles of his inner thighs, his skin soft and ticklish against your facial hair. 

After adjusting his knees into a position at your shoulders slightly more conducive to pumping, he tests the roll of his hips. You grunt encouragingly, sucking and pressing your tongue along the underside as he moves, pulling an eager groan out of him.

It doesn’t take long for him to become comfortable with the motion, and he starts to shamelessly and forcefully thrust into your mouth. The tip of his cock repeatedly jabs at the soft flesh at the back of your throat. The urge to gag is strong, but you manage to tamp it down and relax your throat. You dig your calloused fingers into the side of his thighs, bobbing your head against his strokes.

Despite being fit and having enough stamina to swim cross-ocean for a living, Noa is clearly already worn down from his recent ordeal; already at his limit barely after starting.

In what seems like no time, Noa lets out a string of breathless grunts and his struggling thighs tremble around your jaw. You’re nearly blinded by his vibrant colors that seem to literally light up the dark cabin - The stripes on his sides flicker in phosphorescent white, like the streaks of lightning outside. 

Cum shoots down your throat without you even needing to swallow, completely coating it. The subtle salty taste from before is a full-blown brine now.

Noa rolls off of you and limply collapses onto his back against the bed, chest heaving for air so deeply you can see the pink flash of his gills peek out between his ribs each time his lungs expand.

“T-Thanks- Sorry? Nngh-” He gasps in shame, looking like all his life force has left his body. 

“No problem at all.” You say, a bit hoarse, rubbing your throat.

By the time you’ve fully caught your own breath and propped yourself up, he’s already out like a light, fast asleep exactly where he landed.

You let out a sigh of a laugh, and get up to lumber into the head to take care of yourself.

Not the least sleep you’ve gotten in one night in this line of work…

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ OXVENTURE PRESENTS: DEADLANDS / ch2 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

'you have to eat that noisy?'

'i feel if you were having some of these beans you'd be making the same noises.'

'you're a growing boy! you should eat more things in general.'

'sit back. it's going to be 90 minutes of pure solitaire.'

'i mean everybody came out covered in gore.'

'love this energy.'

'i can't wait to see this bastard taken down, to be honest.'

'he rose through the ranks particularly fast. last i heard he'd been made a general.'

'i had these wanted posters made up.'

'did you have a follow-up thought, grandad?'

'this isn't a dead or alive situation, let me make this clear.''

'i've had several people come here and say that they've killed him. then he pops up again.'

'i assume it was shot with a very, very big gun.'

'he won't stop talking about how he shot that sasquatch.'

'you can't make an omelette without breaking a few sasquatches.'

'we don't just happen to have fifty yards of hempen rope.'

'i left my horse somewhere else apparently.'

'i've got some grubby old dynamite sticks shoved in my pocket, so no one set me on fire.'

'the wet goods store is right next to the dry goods store.'

'i think we can assume that walking up and plugging him in the dome will pull quite a lot of attention. not all of it positive.'

'maybe he loves jerky. we can put some jerky under a box and a stick and then he'll come out of town, and...'

'i'm not in funds as such.'

'he ain't my grandpa!'

'i don't want to impose or assume, but can we load you up with all this stuff?'

'okay, the story: we are couriering jerky.'

'beats 'jerkin' it'.'

'we can always tuck and roll. i do it all the time! it doesn't hurt as much as you think.'

'will you accept payment in the form of jerky?'

'the jerky was right next to the opium. it's possible some mixing as occurred.'

'i feel like there's a word for that if i knew more words.'

'you're a great shot and frankly you're a little scary when you're riled.'

'miss, can you write fair?'

'i can write passably well.'

'it's been a while since i was mining.'

'i, for one, have never mined.'

'if i were to assign it a fear level, i would give it about a four.'

'that's the second or third smart thing you've said today.'

'you'll have to forgive me: i am extremely old.'

'this presents a unique opportunity!'

'this sounds like a gas!'

'is there any action? is there a poker table?'

'you're pretty handy with those cards, right?'

'kid, you read my mind.'

'looks like you know what you're doing with them cards.'

'what do you think your odds are?'

'yeah, well, they didn't have what we have. which is enormous skill.'

'they don't have what i have! i have three months to live.'

'i don't know, you look like someone just walked over your grave.'

'i can't /possibly/ fail at gambling.'

'the game itself is supposed to be fun, you know.

'if you merely ask questions earlier and shot later, rather than the other way round, you wouldn't shoot so many people.'

'posers.'

'have you done much duelling?'

'i never heard of folks willingly coming to a town looking to get shot.'

'the grown up world is weird.'

'you're awfully young to get shot to death.'

'that's fine, i understand. if you need to shoot me, go ahead.'

'surely he won't agree to shoot a child to death?'

'LOT OF DEAD PEOPLE IN HERE, TOO!'

'the barman seemed alive enough to me. at least in a corporeal sense; his spirit was very downtrodden.'

'you think you have a lot to offer?'

'don't worry son, i'll go easy on ya. i'll shoot the gun right outta your hand.'

'i don't know if this is helpful or even possible, but...'

'i can dig graves very deeply and very neatly! but i can do shallow if it is for someone you wish to disrespect.'

'what i'm trying to do it, um, uh... kill you. so that i can benefit from your death. financially.'