#IN MY BRAIN BECAUSE LIKE- WHAT IF I WAS HIGH. WHAT IF I WAS HIGH RIGHT NOW AND THIS WAS MY LAST STRAW

[theemporium]

♥️47 w/ Nico Hischier… please and thank you

this is inspired by the return of the moustache but fuelled by my brain being fried from uni so the smut is mediocre at best🤠thank you for requesting!

47. "You heard me. I want you to sit on my face."

.

To be perfectly candid, you were less than subtle about admiring your boyfriend’s new look for the off-season.

But, as his girlfriend, it was your right to helplessly ogle your boyfriend after he decided to shave the rest of his beard short and leave his moustache to be accompanied by some stubble. Add in the fact he had still put off cutting his hair—thank every fucking superior being for that one—and had a new glow about him since the stress of the hockey season was finally off his shoulders, it was impossible not to stare. 

He was just so pretty and he was all yours. And, yeah, you really fucking missed staring at Nico’s face with no practices or games or meetings getting in your way. 

It just never occurred to you that Nico would ever call you out on the blatant way you would ogle him since he brought back the moustache, which is why his words completely caught you off guard.

“What?” 

Nico grinned at you, so fucking smug and sure of himself as he placed his hands on his hips like you were talking about the weather. “You heard me,” he said, his voice low and sweet and far too fucking melodic for you to really concentrate on his ego when he sounded like that. “I want you to sit on my face.” 

You blinked, standing in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the joined ensuite bathroom. You stared at him, your mind whirling with a million different thoughts but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a single word. 

“Been thinking about it all week,” he continued as he started to close the distance between you, his eyes glinting with an emotion that made your stomach twist in desire. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking, baby. Tell me you haven’t thought about it too.” 

“I—” You stuttered out, your face burning in response. Because truthfully, you had been thinking about it. But your thoughts had been based around Nico pinning your hips to the mattress, to settle between your legs and to let you feel the scratch of his beard across your sensitive inner thighs until you were left begging and panting and whining for more.

It never crossed your mind for you to be the one on top.

“Just want my pretty girl on top of me,” Nico hummed as he reached for you, his large hands engulfing the back of your head and it made your brain short circuit for a few moments. “Let me have a taste, hm?” 

“Nico,” you murmured, and the hesitancy was clear in your voice. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”

He frowned. “Why not?” 

“I–” You let out a noise before shrugging. “What if I squish you or—”

You barely had a chance to react to the snort he let out before his hands dropped from your head, reaching for your thighs and lifting you into his arms with an ease that didn’t feel human at all. You blinked, left speechless as Nico shamelessly grinned up at you, walking back towards the bed with you in his arms.

“I can handle it, baby,” he said, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he emphasised his point. “Now, be a good girl and sit on my face, hm? Wanna fucking drown in you.”

And you really couldn’t be blamed for being unable to say no to those pretty brown eyes staring up at you like he wanted to devour you. You could, however, be blamed for that naive voice in the back of your mind that told you that you’d be in control because you were on top.

It took all of five minutes for that belief to crumble the second Nico got his hands on you. 

“Fuck,” you let out a high-pitched whine, head tipped back and lips parted as you felt his lips wrap around your clit and suck, humming deeply as he did. 

His arms were locked around your thighs, keeping you in position with his hands pawing your ass and guiding your rocking hips. His hair was dishevelled and messy, spread across the pillow like some twisted angelic painting whilst those pretty brown eyes were now glued to you, watching as he licked and sucked and kissed every single noise out of you. 

His chin and lips were glistening with your release, that moustache fucking soaked and his tongue branded with the taste of you—and fuck, Nico truly believed he was in heaven. Because that was the only reasonable explanation for this: for the sight of you on top, your hips rocking and your soaked cunt at his mercy, your hands squeezing your tits and your mouth moaning his name. 

It was fucking heaven and it made him rock hard in the flimsy shorts he had put on earlier, probably seconds away from busting a load despite not even touching himself once. 

His only coherent thought was that he should have shaved earlier if this was what he could gain from it. 

“Fuck, Nico, baby,” you stuttered out, all breathy and panting as you reached one hand down to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned against your cunt. “Shit, I-I can’t.”

“One more, schat,” he murmured, his warm breath fanned across your core and it made your legs twitch, and it made Nico smile against your cunt in response. “Please, baby, let me taste you. Let me taste my pretty girl.”

And you were fucking putty in his arms, letting yourself tip over the edge as you clung onto the headboard to keep yourself from keeling over. 

Yet, all he could think was that he definitely wasn’t getting rid of the moustache anytime soon.

.

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

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[tipsyleaf]

OH MY GOODNESS, LEON WOULD LITERALLY BE SWEATING.

Knowing Leon; he’d probably show up in a fancy suit. Him and his now wife had been dating for a couple of months, having to push back when he’d finally be able to meet her parents because of work. He wanted to look presentable and nice, especially after finding out her father was a high ranking military official.

He’d probably show up with flowers in hand for your mother, giving her a hug as she kissed both of his cheeks and treated him like a baby. All while her father stood back and watch with his arms folded, poor guy was probably shivering as his girlfriend’s mother introduced her husband, giving Leon a nice firm nod and extending his hand out.

They had planned a nice little dinner together; His girlfriend and her mother would finish cooking in the kitchen as her father quite literally conducted an entire interview with Leon in the living room.

“What do you do for work?”

“What are you trying to do with my daughter?”

“How long were you in training for?”

Being the nice respectful guy he was, he’d reply with “No sir” or “Yes sir” to his questions. Go into further depth with the harder ones, really trying to get on the old man’s good side. They had a little talk about the army and stuff, listening to his old stories before your mother and you finally finished the food.

Dinner went well, so far your parents absolutely adored him. Especially your mother; she’d probably be telling your father “Can you believe it Dave? Our little girl with an amazing man like him! I know he’ll protect her, especially with that fancy government job he has!” Leon would just blush and thank her, smiling and happily eating his steak.

Let’s just say, as soon as he felt, your mother was already gossiping with you. Talking about how “Handsome” and “Strong” he was. You just blushed at giggled, agreeing with her every word.

- Anon! 🎀

Love this 🎀anon, but I have a feeling as soon as her father heard his name he knew who Leon was. Everybody knows everybody in certain lines of work!

The second he hears your father is a general in the military he has a lot of questions. He's questioning you and you're answering to the best of your abilities. But his rank pops up. Four star general... Your father is a four star general. One of the highest ranks you could possibly get...

Then his brain starts turning, your last name moving through his head until it finally sticks. He's scrubbed floors at the rumor of that man showing up. Knows stories of how ruthless he is and the things that man's done. Climbing ranks quickly in the Army with the amount of raw potential he had.

"General Tarkin..." You freeze for a minute looking at him.

"The Star Wars character?"

"No, the other cadets... They'd call him General Tarkin. I know your father... Well, know of your father. Never met him personally but I've heard he's... Terrifying." Your father? Terrifying? You laugh at the thought, smiling at your boyfriend who seems to look a lot more tense than he already was.

"Daddy's not terrifying. He's like a giant teddy bear if anything." Leon knows you mean well but the thought of meeting this man has his stomach in knots. Not only would he have to impress her parents but the man who he knew could do a lot of things to make his life more miserable if he pissed him off.

Leon was definitely gonna have some kind of stomach ulcer with the amount of stress by the end of the night.

Your mother adored him, wouldn't stop calling him handsome and welcoming him into the family without even thinking about it. But Leon could hardly focus feeling the generals burning glare on him from behind your doting mother.

As soon as Leon introduced himself, your father tightens his grip on Leon's hand.

"I know who you are boy."

Boy... That's the name Leon gets stuck with for a chunk of the night and sometime after.

Your father tells you to go help your mother with dinner and you happily follow. Leaving the two of them alone in the den. Sitting across from each other in silence for a few minutes.

"You know me?" Leon's the first to speak, your father still staring him down with his arms crossed.

"Hard not to. President Graham speaks highly of you for helping him with his daughter. We're friends, told him personally who my daughter was seeing and he couldn't stop talking about you." His face tightens as he leans forward, towards Leon.

"I've read the reports from '04. Know what you saw. But I don't take too kindly knowing my daughter's dating a man who skipped around in Spain with another woman. Even if it was to protect her."

Leon's at a loss for words. What even could he say!?

"What're your intentions with my daughter?" Oh thank God something he can answer.

"To be with her, Sir." The generals face softes slightly with a nod.

"You love her?"

"More than anything, Sir."

"You wanna marry her? Have a family?"

"When the time comes, Sir."

The grilling continued until you came in to save him with the news of dinner being done. Your father didn't say much after that. Your mother talking all through dinner and dessert.

Upon leaving you and Leon say your goodbyes and take off. Your mother looks at your father as he shuts the door and smiles.

"Well?" She questions, looking at him.

"He'll do fine." He says, smiling ear to ear.

[gallawitchxx]

hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

[rosepinksky]

Pay For My Time (pt. 7)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x OFC

In which Ghost's neighbour drags him in for dinner, and then ruins his life.

Warnings: cunnilingus, PIV sex (all consensual!)

word count: 2.5k

ao3 link

part 1 (smutty!)

masterlist

Despite my penchant for drunken late nights, I had always been one to wake with the sun. It had been my undoing in university; never able to sleep past 6am in the summer despite all the money I’d poured into heavy-duty blackout curtains. Countless days spent nursing coffee after coffee just to clear the thick fog of exhaustion in my brain, but sleep still never coming despite hours spent curled up trying to nap in the afternoon.

So it was foreign, the sensation of utter comfort this morning, my muscles so relaxed as I curled up under the duvet and into the chest of this man. He was just barely stirring too, gaze softened without the burden of cognisance hitting him yet.

I offered him a small smile, nudging my cheek against his shoulder. It was returned, and a slow, lingering kiss pressed to my forehead through the fabric of his mask. It wasn’t until Simon pulled back that he let out a soft chuckle, my smile falling as a frown pulled at my brows.

“What?”

He dragged the pad of his thumb over the corner of my lips, and I could see the skin stained with a faded red.

“Your makeup, sweet thing. Didn’t take it off last night.”

I groaned, rolling onto my back to grab blindly at the pack of cheap makeup wipes on the bedside table. I dragged one across my cheek, stubborn particles of glitter scraping at my skin.

“Here, let me.” He murmured, taking the wipe and swiping at across my lips far more gently than I had. His expression turned serious with concentration, and I really couldn’t help but smile at his dedication to the mundane task. There was something domestic about it, something so bizarrely intimate yet it didn’t make me want to bolt out of the room away from it quite yet.

Seemingly satisfied, he let the wipe drop onto the sheets, but kept his hand brushing against my skin. His hand drifted lower, thumb dipping beneath the neckline of the soft cotton tee. His other arm shifted from underneath the pillow, squeezing lightly at my waist.

I inhaled, gaze dropping to his lips, the mask still tucked up over the bridge of his nose. He smirked, almost imperceptibly, as his hands curled tighter around my middle, pulling me in against his body.

“Now, pet…I do remember you being fucking difficult last night.” His voice was gentle, almost eerily so. “I’m almost in two minds about making you feel good right now.”

I bit the inside of my lip, my willingness to sass back at him almost zero right now.

“I was…drunk. And pissed off about being left high and dry. I’m sorry.”

That seemed to do the trick, because almost immediately he was tugging me into the centre of the mattress underneath him, knocking my legs apart with his knees.

“At least you’ve some humility.” He chuckled, leaning down to nip at the exposed skin of my stomach where the shirt had ridden up. “…God, ‘s not like I could turn you down right now anyway. Look too fucking tempting.”

I gasped, back arching up off of the mattress as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin once more.

“Mmph, don’t tease, I- I can’t-“

My weak attempt at pleading was swiftly cut off by another low chuckle.

“It’s okay, princess. Not gonna make you wait, not this time.” He murmured as his lips dipped lower, fingers abandoning my waist in favour of crushing the flesh of my thighs in his grip. He took in a long, greedy exhale of my bare core, lips slick with saliva as he pressed them against the tender skin.

“God, can’t wait to taste you again…you smell fucking divine.”

He wasted no time in diving in, lapping at the slick of my pussy like he’d gone without water for days. A strangled moan was torn from my throat, my fingers clutching tightly at the short curls on his scalp. I felt him twitch a little as my nails bit into his skin, but it seemed to only spur him on further as he pushed his tongue inside of me.

“Fuck, Simon, don’t stop, that feels good-“ I gasped, my breath starting to visibly pick up. I pressed my hips further down towards him, legs twitching and begging to clamp down over his ears. He kept me still, though, those strong hands rubbing small circles into the space behind my knees as he pushed them down into the mattress.

The vibration of his moan against my clit had me almost folding over in half, a sharp breath filling my lungs with ice as my eyes flew open. I met his gaze- his dark, starving gaze- and wanted to cum on the spot. He never let up on his ministrations as he held eye contact with me, just slipping a hand under my ass to grope at it as his tongue worked me closer and closer to oblivion.

I tried to speak, but all that escaped my lips was a pitiful whine, the shocks from my pussy down my legs forcing me to curl up my toes and scrunch my eyes shut. I tried to beg him to keep going, to not break his rhythm, but I found myself utterly unable to speak. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because he didn’t falter, just licking and sucking and drooling over my pussy like he needed it to survive.

I felt my arms moving up of their own accord, tweaking and tugging at my nipples, and I could just barely feel his lips quirk up in an approving smile as the added stimulation drove me closer to the edge.

When I came, it wasn’t with a dignified muffled moan as it often was when I worked myself alone. It was with a breathless, almost pained cry, the sharp end of my nails pressing so hard into my tits I swore the skin almost broke. Simon didn’t pull away immediately; in fact, it felt like he pushed himself closer, lapping up the wetness from between my thighs like a sinner kneeling before the communion cup.

I collapsed back down against the mattress. I couldn’t do anything except stare at the ceiling, vision hazy as I listened to both of our laboured breaths in the quiet room.

It took a few moments for him to drag himself back up over me, into my field of view. His lips held a lazy smirk as he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, the flush just faintly visible over his jaw making my own cheeks warm even further.

“…Please fuck me.” I whispered.

Silence hung between us for a second, and I wondered what was going through his mind.

Hesitance? Guilt? Reluctance?

I got my answer when his smirk widened into a grin, and he crashed his lips against mine.

Ghost and I had kissed before. I’d tasted the faint residue of tobacco on his lips, the spearmint toothpaste he used, as his tongue pressed into mine with an urgency akin to an addict pushing down the first hit of their drug.

But not Simon. No, in this moment, I realised I’d never kissed Simon. His lips felt different, the way he cupped my jaw and pressed his weight into me. It felt new, and genuine, and vulnerable.

I realised at the same moment, that this was his first time kissing Lucy, too.

No more Violet. No more calculated persona, no rehearsed responses to his touch. Just a man and a woman indulging sinfully and religiously in each other.

I didn’t notice that he’d pulled his boxers off. I felt him press his cock against me, and moaned against his lips, brows creasing together in desperate anticipation.

He kissed me harder as he pushed himself into me, the sharp sting of the stretch mollified by his sweet tongue. He paused, drawing back to gaze down at me, eyes asking the silent question.

I nodded without a second of hesitation.

He groaned at his first rock into me, fisting the bedsheets beside my head.

“Shit, Luce, you feel better than fucking heroin.”

If I’d been anywhere other than my current state of bliss, I would’ve made a snarky remark about neither of us knowing what the hell heroin felt like. Hopefully.

“More.” I rasped, pulling him closer to me by the nape of his neck. “Please, Si, give me more.”

He growled in response, bullying his cock into me faster and harder. I cried out, nipples pressed into his chest and sending delicious little flutters through my core at the sensation. I pushed my hips up, trying to meet his thrusts, and his breath stuttered at the action.

“Fuck, god, need to have you on top of me. Need to see your face.”

I nodded, even though I was mostly incoherent. Not entirely aware of what I’d agreed to, I let him flip us over so that I was settled above him as he lay with his head sinking into the pillow. I steadied myself with a hand splayed on his chest, panting as I stared down at him.

I began to move with a tentative rock of my hips. The response was immediate, Simon biting his lip as his head pressed further back into the soft material behind him. I grew in confidence as I found my angle, bouncing up and down on him and letting my head loll back as the mind-numbing pleasure took over my senses once again.

He groaned, the sound deep and rough and intoxicating, his hands flying up to my hips to help support my weight as I rode him within an inch of my life.

“Yes, yes, that’s it, sweet girl. Make yourself cum. Make me cum. Ride that fucking dick.” He panted, his grip tightening as he started to manoeuvre me up and down himself, setting a pace I couldn’t quite keep up with.

I let my head fall forward, meeting his eyes with a wordless plea on my lips. He let out a moan at my expression, hips snapping upwards into mine at such a rate I could feel my diaphragm catching.

“Gonna fucking cum. Gonna fucking cum inside you, come on girl, cum around me. Need to see that face.”

I had no defences left. I broke like a dam around him, every muscle in my body contracting as I let myself climax around his cock. He groaned, the sound strained and utterly animal, and I swore my orgasm doubled the second I felt his cum spurt in fucking ropes against my insides.

Neither of us moved for a long moment, aside from his hand sliding up along my back to support me. I drew in deep, rapid breaths, just staring down at him as he lay underneath me.

He seemed to do the same. Neither of us spoke, just a silent understanding that that was different.

Not fucking. Not hooking up. Making love.

I jumped to my feet, knees buckling the second I put weight on them. His arms immediately shot out to steady me, but I brushed him away as I found balance with my hand against the wall.

“You, uh…you want some coffee?” I asked, cringing internally at how stupid it sounded.

He stared at me for a long moment.

“…You should probably shower. I can handle breakfast.”

Too cock-dumb to argue and too sleep-deprived to know better, I nodded, the thought of warm water over my already pliant muscles a prospect too tempting to resist.

I grabbed a towel and a fresh pair of pyjamas without another word, waiting until I heard the click of the bathroom door to let out a breath.

I stared at one crack in the porcelain tiles as I showered.

Don’t do this, Lucy. You’ve been here before.

…But Simon wasn’t him. Simon wasn’t basking me in adoration and gifts and dates. He was accepting of the fuck-buddy relationship, maybe pushing the boundary a smidge with the morning-after sex, but this wasn’t commitment. This was pure, primal sexual attraction, and it’s not as if he would even want a relationship given the nature of his job.

Oh, dear god, his job.

There was no way he didn’t see my reaction to the reveal last night. The thought, the thought of him absolutely decimating some band of criminals without so much as a crack in his demeanour had set every nerve inside of me ablaze.

Would he be soaked in blood? I thought. Would he come home to me, still in his dirty uniform, and take out all of that pent-up aggression on my pussy?

…Jesus, I needed to go back to therapy.

I shut off the water, towel drying my hair and tugging on a random top and pair of joggers. I padded through towards the kitchen, pausing only when I heard that familiar baritone echo through the hallway.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m aware, MacTavish. No, she’s not interfering. She’s a fucking stripper, it’s not as if I’m ring shopping.”

I would’ve been lying if I’d said I hated to eavesdrop.

“…Yeah, she’s hot. She’s also not a serious thing, so back off.”

I chose that moment to step into the kitchen, tugging at the knots in my wet hair as he stood in the corner on his phone. I smirked.

“You gonna let me say hi to your friend?”

Simon’s expression dropped. I could vaguely hear a voice shouting down the other end of the phone, but he hung up the call almost immediately after seeing me appear.

“…Stupid friend. Ignore him.”

I chuckled, brushing past him to pop a pod into the coffee maker.

“Seems like he was pretty clued in about me. Feels a little unfair that I don’t get to know about him.”

Simon bristled.

“Don’t wanna share you.”

Ah. Now that piqued my interest.

“Jealous boy, hmm? Don’t want MacTavish touching what’s yours?”

In an instant, his hands were on me, caging me against the countertop.

“I know you’re a whore.” He breathed, his tone dangerous. “I can’t stop you from sleeping with every sleaze that ticks your boxes at the club. But you will not sleep with my teammates.”

I tipped my chin up, meeting his gaze defiantly. “So rude of you to call me a whore.”

He smirked, fingers trailing along my jaw. “Didn’t seem to mind it when I was making you cum.”

I held eye contact for a long moment, a mixture of amusement and annoyance swimming in my expression. “I like your cheek a whole lot less when I’m level-headed.”

He chuckles, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “And I like you a lot more when you’re sober.”

tag list! <3 @simpxinnie

[foreos]

the bad kids rated by how much they would like sonic the hedgehog

a sequel to my hatchetfield version

- riz gukgak: 1/10 i don’t think riz even touches video games. i can’t imagine riz having any strong media interests because his life is so busy all the time so i doubt he would think about sonic the hedgehog at all. if he ever played a sonic game though i think he’d be like unnaturally good at it because he’s got great reaction times and it’s not hard for him to intuit what the best routes are. he’d probably only play in like a social situation though.

- kristen applebees: 10/10 kristen grew up playing sonic games with her brothers and she likes them. sonic is very very good for adhd brains and i think she likes running around really really fast. fucking AWFUL at the games though she has a dexterity score of four. she has never passed a quicktime prompt in her life but that does not stop her from booting up the games and playing the first three or so levels. doesn’t really engage with the media past the games but that’s just because if she had a comic book she’d lose it and while she watched some of the cartoons as a kid, it’s been a long time. probably hasn’t played in years.

- adaine abernant: 10/10 she did not know what sonic was until freshman year and at first she did not see the appeal. she’s never been allowed plain and stupid fun in her entire life and when confronted with it she’s just like…why? but i think as time passes i could actually see adaine really fucking enjoying it if she decided to suspend her disbelief and embrace it. i think in another timeline adaine is much geekier but much like the other bad kids she currently does not have time for that. there’s an alternate universe where adaine is a comic book nerd with sonic opinions but i don’t think any of us are ready for that. there’s probably other franchises she would possibly like better but i think she could get really into it.

- gorgug thistlespring: 0/10 video games frustrate him. his fingers are too big for the buttons and sonic moves way too fast. like kristen he cannot get past the first few levels and so he and sonic don’t really see eye to eye. he wouldn’t say he hates the guy or has anything against the franchise but he would probably rather do, like, anything else.

- fig faeth: 10000/10 i think fig would like it. while it does not match her aesthetic i think she definitely grew up with sonic games as a kid and is pretty good at them. definitely had to beat video game levels for gilear growing up. as i said earlier with kristen, sonic is very good for adhd brain and i think she likes to build as much speed as she can, plus sonic music is fucking dope and i think fig is a fan of stupid fun. sometimes fig finds herself wishing that he would go even faster, though.

- fabian seacaster: -100000/10 he’s scared of rodents and obsessed with being cool fabian does not like sonic. yes, i know sonic is not a rodent but like. fabian does not care that is a walking talking blue rat with one weird eyeball that has two pupils and he is wearing NO clothes. plus, sonic is considered deeply lame by the general public, especially high schoolers, so fabian would not be caught dead in even the same room where sonic-related activities are occurring. fabian goes out of his way to avoid any and all sonic media, which is a shame because when fabian was a kid bill seacaster impulsively bought Every Video Game so there’s probably a completed sonic collection somewhere in fabian’s house. like i think fabian owns sonic chronicles and tails’s sky patrol and sonic labyrinth and he has no idea. in another life fabian is a shadow fan.

BONUS:

- ragh barkrock: 1/10, like gorgug and riz he’s just not really a video game guy.

- ayda aguefort: 1000000000/10 she would fucking love it. she would love it so so so much. much like adaine i think ayda would be extremely geeky in another, less stressful life and i think if fig introduced her to it she would be all fucking in. comics tv shows video games, all of it. i think ayda would eat that shit up.

- cassandra: 10/10 blaze reminds her of kalina and she thinks it’s fun and i am desperate for cassandra to have fun.

- aelwyn: 0/10 absolutely not. she agrees with fabian that sonic is creepy and should wear clothes. she tries not to think about it, ever.

[wolfs-archive]

"Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us!!!!" || Part 1

Part 2 || Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has a secret crush on Felix. Little did she know he too liked her. All the boys are Y/n's friend as they go to the same college and live under the same roof. The other boys did know of Felix's crush but are clueless about Y/N. Little did the blooming couple know that an anesthesia would be the one bringing them together.

Pairing: NonIdol!Felix X Female!Y/N

Genre: slightly suggestive, fluff maybe, mentions of alcohol, high Y/N

Note: Y/N is sedated, The Felix or his other roommates mentioned here are no where related to the idol Stray Kids and are just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

"Initially we give less dosage of anesthesia to patients who come for the wisdom teeth removal, since Y/N's so sensitive, we had to give her higher dose. So she would be high for some time, and would come to her senses after 8 hours. Meanwhile, if she faces any issues you can tell her to take the prescribed tablets. Also she is advised not to have any spicy or hard food for a week. Only liquid food for an entire day and soft food for the rest of the week." said the Dentist. "Thank you Doctor", Han said as he helped Y/N get up and made her go out . "Y/N, I'll get the medicines and you stay here" he babied her. "Who are you? I do what I want to." Y/N retorted. "Y/n ah, I know you are a brat, but I'll let this pass once, only just because you are under sedation" a triggered Han said as he left her on the chair to get medicines. On his way to the pharmacy, he met Hyunjin. "Han ah, where is Y/N? Chan asked me to tag along in case you needed help". "Bro, I have made her sit on the chair, can you please take a look at her. She is spewing nonsense. Such a menace she is." Han replied. After the medicines were bought, Hyunjin and Han helped Y/N walk on her way to their car. Hyunjin sat in the driver's seat and a staggered Y/N went to occupy the passenger seat. Not even 5 minutes later, she was transferred to the back seat and was made to sit with Han with all the fuss she created. "Chan, we are on the way back and .... Y/N!!! stop pulling my specs" Han yelled and after a heated argument Han relied to Chan about Y/N's diet and the dentist's advise.

Y/N is usually a bubbling extroverted girl. A beautiful girl who is one year younger than I.N. A person with both beauty and brains, had a lot of people courting her, but her eyes laid only on one of her roommate, Lee Felix Yongbok. Being a bratty roommate with others and making fun of everyone with all possibilities, she has always had a soft spot for Felix and has never made fun of him. The others had never doubted this because, she had treated him like how all would treat him. But be it arriving on time for a class, or making any meal, or saving a book she had all done it ready for him. Often the members would have late night outs and parties and she being the only girl was literally treated like a younger sibling and was never allowed for any late night parties. Whenever it would be, just "Saturday Nights" at their dorm, she would always insist on having orange juice or sparkling water rather than alcohol. The members though knew it, that it was because of her lower tolerance level and that she would be difficult to handle, didn't force her. On the other hand, she didn't want to because, she knew she would pour her heart out if she drank and didn't want to miss the friendship she cherished. So, it was only when she was with he girls that she drank. That was how much she loved him.

Similar to Y/N, Felix liked her but didn't open up his heart to her for the fear of loosing her friendship. He kept it to his heart, until one day, where they had a game of truth or dare during their "Saturday Nights" and he confessed to have feelings for a particular girl. Upon closely watching his previous movements, the group concluded that it definitely was Y/N. When he asked how, each of them had their own answers for confirmation. Seungmin said, "I saw you waiting for her after class, to walk along with her to our dorm, even thoug you didn't have class that day". " One night when I went to drink water, I saw you tucking up her bedsheet " Hyunjin replied. "I saw you having her as your wallpaper on your phone" replied Changbin. He also added, "I didn't mean to peak at your phone, remember; when I had asked for your phone to text the professor. It was that time I realised it". "Not to mention, we share the same room and one day I saw you texting her, you slept with your phone. When I tried to keep the phone on the table beside, I saw a notification with Y/N's name along with a light blue heart." replied the youngest. "Don't you think I know the way steal glances of her during our combined sessions?" asked the eldest. "I knew it the moment you told me weeks ago about how you wanted pasta for dinner just because Y/N had a bad day at college. You have never done it for anyone else" said Lee Know. "Remember the one day I borrowed your book for reference? Do you not remember what you had written in it? The entire book had Y/N's name on it just like how a psychopath writes a person's name" said Han "You have been too obvious with it around us. Y/N must be either dumb or must be really clueless about it" he retorted.

Back in the car, when Han cut the call, Y/N "Bro, where is my love? I wanna meet him" she said. An astonished Han, asked who it was for which she replied that he knew him. Hyunjin in the driver's seat replied "I guess Felix is screwed!!!" Meanwhile, "You Quokka like human, where is my love? I want to meet him. Kiss him... Please bring him here." Han knew it wasn't easy and not right either to bring words out from her, so he decided, "Y/N let's play this game 10 questions. I'll ask you 10 questions and you have to answer them honestly. By the time you are done, I'll bring you your love. Deal? " he asked. "Deal" she challenged.

Even after 10 questions, he was not able to find out who it was and had arrived to their dorm. Han and Hyunjin had tricked Y/N into make her believe that they were at her "Love's" home and that she had to go in to see him. As soon as she entered, she started yelling "Lee Felix Yongbok!!!! where are you?". Hearing her voice, Felix came out to see what was going on.... "Come here!!!!" she ordered as she sat on their sofa, pointing her hands, implying him to sit near her. "What is it Y/N?" asked Felix as he sat near her. A wild Y/N, grabbed Felix's shirt by the collar, just leaving a gap of 2 inches between them. She could feel his breath pace take off and her cheeks now tinted with red. With a raspy voice, she said "Do you know how much I love you? Those freckles and the cute smile is definitely the death of me. In the future, if I get married, I want it only with you and our kids will have beautiful freckles just like you" she confessed. Everyone were too stunned to speak at the confession. Meanwhile Hyunjin, "Han, we were so clueless, the entire ride she was talking about.... was it Felix????" Han replied "Now with what she confessed, I think, no conclude that it was definitely Felix." "You know why every time you call me to have drinks I deny? It is because, if I drink, I would pour my heart out. I don't know what is in your mind and if you don't like it, I would crumble into pieces. i wouldn't be even able to face you" she said. Her hands now across his neck as she pulls him in for a deep kiss. Breaking out from the kiss, Felix says" Who said I don't like you? I've always loved you, and will love you. " as he tucked the small fringe of hair behind her ears. " Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us. It's okay." he says, as he carried her to her bedroom.

Idk if y'all want Part 2. But if you want, please feel free to ask it in the comment section.

[ingravinoveritas]

irvinis replied to your post “Thinking about the photo from tonight, i almost…”

@ingravinoveritas this may be fanon (canon created by fans), but it fits so well into the daddy/boy dynamic. Michael comes to David's performances with his doors wide open, wearing his best sweater (or baring his arms) and giving a standing ovation: THIS IS MY BOY! And David makes his way to Michael’s performances, wrapped in a scarf up to his eyebrows and sighs quietly in delight from an inconspicuous place in the corner.

@irvinis Ohh...this is tickling a very specific part of my brain. Oh, I love this. In the past I didn't usually go for the daddy/boy dynamic with Michael and David (because I've always seen their relationship as one of equals/switches), but this absolutely fits them like a freaking glove.

We have the picture Georgia posted of David all wrapped up exactly like that, so right away that gives us a visual:

And what you've described goes perfectly with what we saw when Michael went to see Macbeth in December--that white-bright moment of Michael gazing up at David from the audience, and David looking right back at him, captured forever on film and in our hearts. That, in contrast with last night, with David quietly going to the show and doing everything to keep the focus on Michael. David waiting until the lights have dimmed and all eyes are on the stage to let out that little sigh, feeling a shiver of unrestrained happiness work its way through his body as he watches, enraptured, as Michael does the thing he does best.

It's also interesting how this potentially ties into Michael not doing the matinee today. I know we could say it's because he's still recovering from being sick (and that would certainly make sense), but I love the thought that Michael sat out so many performances earlier in the week to make sure he had his strength specifically for last night's performance, because he knew David was coming and wanted to do a good job for him.

I could also see David going to Michael's dressing room after (with thanks to @greeneyed-thestral for planting the seed of that lovely idea) and seeing Michael all enthralled with a post-show high from performing, yet still anxious about how things went--worrying if he was on key for the musical number, if he missed any cues. I can see David slowly backing Michael into the mirror without a word, until the lights frame Michael like a halo. He takes off his ball cap and unravels his scarf in an elegant heap on the dresser, revealing himself, both of them now bare and vulnerable. David grasps either side of Michael's face in his hands, thumb tracing over the crow's feet at the side of Michael's eyes, and smiles softly. He kisses Michael, mouths opening just slightly as the kiss deepens and their tongues meet. Kisses him long enough to quiet Michael's mind, to get the overthinking voice inside to stop.

He is quiet, this David. Always making himself smaller to fit in rooms within rooms, hiding away, keeping the peace. Until Michael. Michael, who somehow had the key to every door. Something in David expands, becomes louder, growing to more than his slender frame could seem to handle, and he pours it into that kiss. A mark of this moment, of Michael bathed in light, of the two of them together and David silently saying, we are here. We are together and I am going to take care of you now.

Oh, yes...I could certainly see that happening. Thank you so much for this delicious prompt on a Saturday morning...

[tragedybunny]

Pretty Baby 2

༺Summary༻

Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav

༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat

༺Word Count༻ 3783

༺A/N༻

So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin

The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.

Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper

Read On AO3 Chapter 1

“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 

Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 

I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.

He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.

Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries

The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 

We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 

“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 

Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.

“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 

The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 

“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  

Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 

Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.

And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.

“Fuck,” he whines the word. 

Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight

I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 

The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”

He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 

“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.

Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 

He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 

“Good baby. Almost done.” 

He tenses. “But...”

“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 

I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 

KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 

It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 

Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 

Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.

Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.

I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”

Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 

“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 

He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”

He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 

For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”

“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 

“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 

“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 

“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”

“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 

“Still going to miss you, though.” 

“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 

“Call me when you land, Fina.” 

I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.

We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 

The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 

To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 

Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 

Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 

“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 

He’s such a filthy little tease. 

Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight

He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 

Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down

Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 

Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 

His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 

The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”

“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”

We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 

“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 

The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”

I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 

I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 

He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.

BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 

He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”

Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 

It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 

I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 

Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 

Mommy: I hope that was worth it 

His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 

The stream dies just as he starts calling me.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.

“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”

“Please, I just…” 

“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”

 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”

I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”

We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  

There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 

When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 

“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 

“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”

“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”

“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”

“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 

He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 

“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 

“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 

“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”

“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 

“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 

“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 

I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 

“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 

“Alright, baby.” 

I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 

Relatively vanilla, he said.

“Come here.” 

I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”

He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 

“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 

He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.

After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.

We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  

And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.

“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 

He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 

“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 

DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy

Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 

Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 

“You’re being so good,” I coo.

He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 

“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.

“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”

l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.

“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 

He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 

I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 

He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 

“Please,” he begs, desperately. 

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, Mommy.” 

I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 

I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 

I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 

Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.

SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)

Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 

Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.

“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 

I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 

We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)

summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.

warnings: short and sweet! (none)

a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo

sneak peak | pinterest board

(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.) 

It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.

It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.

Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.

To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze. 

She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off  – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.

The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.

He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song. 

The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view. 

Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window. 

In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.

He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.

What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.

She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.

That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.

He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.

He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck. 

“Hi.” 

His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs. 

It was September.

“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”

“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.

She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.

No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.

The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.

Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.

“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.

What was that called? Heterochromia?

He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”

She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”

He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”

The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books. 

She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some revision resources done early.” 

Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.

She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.

He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.

He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.

He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie. 

He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.

He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”

She sighed, “Can I tell you something?” 

Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.

He nodded. 

“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”

Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.

He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.

The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless. 

When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”

She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”

Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.

He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”

She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”

Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”

“Natalia.”

“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.

“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”

Something clenched in his chest.

[verystrxxwberry]

Hi, Alex! How is your day going? I was here to do a request about MCL high school life (completely sfw, so it is safe!) about the routes dealing with a reader who is stressed because they overwork in school and still doubt that will never achieve the dream of going to university?

It's just I am pretty stressed with the thought of not being able to go to university, because even if I overwork a lot, I don't get the perfect grades that I would like :(. Anyway, thank you so much! Love your writing<33

MY CANDY LOVE HSL; When you are stressed about school.

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, MCL HSL routes, comfort. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Greetings! I am doing quite good, thanks for asking. Regarding your issue, I understand you a lot, because my last year before entering university also was like that. I don't know how your country's education system will work, but whatever it is, university is not the only path in life. There are many people who have moved on without a career or something; and above all prioritize your own health! I understand that you want to get good grades, but if you overwork yourself you will only block your brain and not allow it to function well because it will be exhausted since it has no rest. Good luck, and take life easy, it's only one life you have and you have to enjoy it!

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ���¸¸.•*¨*•.

CASTIEL 

He didn’t start caring about his grades until he saw that he failed almost every subject during the first months of classes. Sigh… he can’t let that happen.

Initially, there was a contrast between you and him. He was the stereotypical rebellious kid who didn't care about classes, and you were that student who was always keeping up with the class. Castiel is aware of how much effort you put into studying. Many times he would tell you to come to his house to spend time with him, and he would let you study on his desk for a while without any problem. Of course, he is strict about breaks and insisting that you give your little head a rest.

He will even quietly kiss your head spontaneously as you are focused on studying, to cheer you up however he can.

Castiel feels confusion when he sees that a grade matters so much to you to the point of breaking down over it. He doesn't blame you, but considers that you don't deserve so much pressure regarding grades. As he looks you in the eyes  and pulls your hair out of your face, he would say "Come on, life doesn't end because of a grade. You're human, not a machine; although sometimes machines fail too. But so what? We can't be good at everything. Ask for help, don't give up." You can feel his hand cupping your chin to make you look at him. And you can see the worry and affection on his eyes.

He's concerned about how this issue affects your mental health. After every test you take, he would take you somewhere for a date so you don't get over stressed. A break for your own good never hurts.

In Castiel's opinion, college is overrated; but he knows you are capable. More than once he will have had deep conversations with you about "You're already too hard on yourself, don't drown yourself in an abyss of negativity before you start something you want." 

Even if you didn't go to college, that wouldn't make you any less human. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Castiel would support you no matter what your decision, though he'd rather you take things more lightly. He doesn't like to see you stop enjoying your actuality because of the stress of school.

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel's strict prioritization of his studies was mainly because of his father, but Nath had inner desires that went against the stereotype that he was.

During class he already noticed that you felt some frustration when you received your test grade. His hand rested on your forearm and he looked at you with concern. "Hey, what's wrong?" 

When you explain your disappointment in reference to your exam grade, he sighs and shakes his head. "Get that thought out of your head, dear.... No grade is perfect and everyone has their strengths and weaknesses." He strokes your back gently, in order to comfort your state of mind.

If you're struggling with something, he has no problem helping you to understand it. He makes dates to study with you in a cafe <3 (he would end up inviting you to dinner or a drink in the cafe itself). And never feel ashamed of failing! Everyone does and there are always opportunities to improve. If there aren't, then life goes on; don't get stuck in the past.

Whatever grade you have, it will be something Nathaniel will congratulate you on. What matters is that you tried!

Nathaniel knows that having a good healthy schedule for your homework and study management will be what helps you get to college. He supports you, as long as you don't break your boundaries. Don't set expectations, don't compare yourself, just do what you can without pushing your limits and you can get to where you want to be.

Another thing Nath would also do is to talk to the teachers so that they can help you in those subjects that are more difficult for you, and he could accompany you if you wanted. Anyway, he does it for your sake and seeing that you also put dedication makes him feel happy and proud. At the end of each day, before you each leave for home, he would give you a little kiss on the forehead and say "Good job today."

LYSANDER 

Lysander takes everything calmly, even studies. During classes he takes light notes, but generally listens to the teachers. Not ironically, his memory does not usually fail when it comes to his studies. Likewise, he is not a strict person with his schedule and he will see that you are quite strict with yours. Why do you study so much if your brain needs a break?

Lysander has no problem accompanying you to the library, but he insists that between assignments you take certain breaks. More than once he will tell you "Don't be so hard on yourself, it will have negative consequences in the future."

After each study session he sings to you to relax in his arms, to take your mind off anything study related and get some rest.

Lysander believes that you shouldn't look so much into your future, since the present is already unpredictable enough without planning for something stable in the future. You build your way towards that goal you have, but you will always encounter some difficulty along the way. He knows that your grades are that difficulty that keeps you from moving forward in terms of your hopes of going to college.

"Honey, do what you can; what matters is that you tried. Life goes on, sometimes you have to take shortcuts or other paths that don't allow you to reach your goal. But it will never be your fault, since you already know that you have done your best" He would tell you while caressing the back of your neck. "Be proud of yourself and stop criticizing yourself so much. You don't value yourself enough to see that you are capable enough to put so much effort into things; and that is what should be valued the most."

KENTIN 

Oh no, he's not going to let your little oretty face fill with sadness over something as annoying as grades. He understands that you want to go to college and he will certainly encourage you to follow your dreams; but in moderation! He would suggest that you come to his house to study with him, or to the library, and then he would reward you with cookies.

Kentin will force you to take at least two or three hours a day for yourself. You know what they say about playing sports for a while a day so you can exercise your concentration? Well Kentin believes it and will encourage you to join his routines so you can concentrate better and study in less hours than extending them to the point that it affects you negatively.

There's nothing more upsetting for Kentin than seeing you cry over a grade. "Hey, nooo, listen, you're more than enough, don't let a grade ruin your life! You're very disciplined, I'm sure that facet already opens many doors for you even if you don't make it to college" He would tell you as he cradles your cheeks in his hands.

He's going to kiss your tears, he's not going to let you be sad for long.

Kentin is very involved in you taking some time out of your day just for you. He invites you to his house to take a nap, or to go practice sports with him, or bake cookies in his kitchen. But he also supports you to study and spend time studying; but he offers you the idea of balance your organization so that you can clear your mind and have a more positive mindset.

ARMIN 

Maybe Armin is a bad influence when it comes to giving school advice?- He would literally tell you to focus on being happy and leave all those worries behind you. In fact, he supports that idea of; if it makes you feel bad, leave it.

But he knows he can't be such a bad influence and push you to make decisions that distract you from your path for so long. 

It confuses him why you care so much about your grades. He witnesses all the effort you put into studying, since during exams time he can barely see you :(. Usually because he always brings his console with him, and that's going to distract you from studying. He doesn't mind being patient; he will always send you messages of support when you go to study!

It took him a while to realize that it really is an issue that affects you, but when he saw that it was serious, ah-ah, don't even think about overworking. "You know what happens to a character when they run out of stamina? They feel weak, they can't cope well with situations and they need rest. So do you!"

The easiest way he has to distract you is to write you a message in discord and saying “hop on terraria, bb” (or any other game). But he can completely adapt to those things you enjoy doing! He doesn’t mind (even if it is out home he is gonna whine a lot)

No matter the grade you get on an exam, he is gonna clap at you and feel very happy for you. Sometimes he’d make you blush from embarrassment at how loud he can be… But still, he is very proud of you. And he is not gonna hide it!

“Oh, hey, what’s with that pout? Come on, smile! You did such a great job.” He speaks in such a sweet way that it barely looks like him, but he wants to make you smile, to squeeze you in between his arms. “Never give up, you are strong enough to deal with this and more! But do it at the needed pace to not drain yourself, remember?”

Never back down never give up

✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it!

[wordy-little-witch]

Pls im begging im on my knees what happens in crossguilds honeymoon shenanigans? - dis is pertaining to the CG wedding anser sjdjdjdjdns i love it btw the asker is so big brained and u made it even better sjdmsjxkz

OKAY so I'll divide it up between General Content and Adult Content.

General first!!!

• at first, they didn't even plan a honeymoon. It simply wasn't in the cards to then, they didn't even consider it. Then Big Mom asked, making conversation at the following party, what kind of honeymoon they had planned. They told her just an evening together in their tent, then back to work.

The men, women and enbies of the Guild swooped right in there with bright grins. "We pooled our wages together," they announce, "and booked you a trip!" It's for a weekend, just three days, and they'd be gone perhaps five at most depending on the weather and travel.

All three are trying not to cringe into the ether because they'd be leaving the island for a decent chunk of time. Who would run everything?

Their commanding officers then give them an itemized delegated list, with all the primary functions taken care of. The Guild really prepared for everything, huh?

• the honeymoon is to a resort not too terribly far for Karai Bari. The first thought is for them to just.... divide and do their own things.

Only they keep running into each other that first day. Buggy and Mihawk wind up in the library with other. Mihawk and Crocodile run into each other in the sauna. Buggy and Crocodile meet up in the casino. It's constant, and eventually it even becomes rather fun.

• then evening hits.

Adult Content below~

• Buggy's got the self awareness of a walrus on cocaine honestly, so he doesn't really think before stripping down to change into his evening wear. Crocodile and Mihawk at first ignore it until they catch sight of a pale back full of freckles and scars. Both dark haired me are suddenly fighting the urge to kiss him there, to make constellations with their touch and tongue. They look away.

• Only One Bed - Mihawk wordlessly prepares the couch for himself and Buggy makes a hammock and Crocodile is getting the bed - the first night at least.

• sleepy early mornings are so intimate and nobody discusses that enough. Buggy is the first up, hair slightly messy from the braid he slept in, curls framing his bare face. He makes coffee and starts on breakfast. Mihawk joins him not long after. Crocodile wakes to the smell of food, coffee, and murmured voices and laughter. When he inevitably wanders into the kitchen, halfasleep, he accepts a playe and mug, presses a kiss to Buggy's temple, a squeeze to Mihawk's wrist. Both clown and swordsman take a moment to process that.

• Buggy isn't exactly a contributer to Gender, so he'll wear whatever so long as he likes it. Including, it turns out, a form fitting dress in a rich green with gold accents and jewelry which shows his long leg via a high slit. He plays the part of ditzy eye candy well for Crocodile, and all seems fine - until some others begin to look at Buggy as well.

• Crocodile is possessive. And they ARE married.... so he pulls Buggy close by his hook at the other's waist and yanks the other down to one of his legs, within neck kissing range. Buggy is flustered. Crocodile is glowering. The wandering eyes ease off.

• at some point, Marines show up. The resort is neutral ground, so none of the Guild leaders make moves to react. Through a series of events, it turns out the Marines are there to apprehend the pirates and have paid off the resort owners.

There's a fight which goes.... fairly normally with Mihawk close range, sinking vessels and soldiers alike. Crocodile is lurking midrange to use his poisons and sand most effectively. Buggy has opted for more long range with his explosives and plots. The whole thing is pretty damn smooth, all considered. Until someone makes it past and grabs Buggy.

A comment is made on his outfit, a cocktail dress and blazer with matching stockings. On his decorum. On him, specifically. It's nothing he hasn't heard before, and he's already halfway through a snarky comeback along the lines of "What, angry I'm hotter than your whore at home-?" when there is a wave of pressure. Buggy blinks. The marine officer stumbles.

There is suddenly a hand on his waist, a hook around his neck, two presences flanking him. "What," the both nearly snarl, "did you say about our wife?"

• Buggy absolutely gets butterflies.

• the rest of the fight is pretty quick, Hawkeyes and Crocodile out of patience to play with their foes. Buggy isn't a slouch either, by the way, he's lobbing explosives strategically all around. Nearing the end, he herds his husband's to their ship, pushes off, and gives a theatrical count down.

• the island and nearby ships are bathed in fire. Buggy is cackling, a mess, his hair wild around a filthy, bloodied face. The dress reveals his shoulders. The torn edges reveal more of those freckles.

Something in both taller men snaps, and they converge upon Buggy with claims and lips and teeth. On the deck of their ornate ship, to the cracking ambience of fire, they have their wicked way with him, learning his body and finding unexpected but delightful facts as they go.

Crocodile could transition fully due to Iva, but Buggy is not so lucky. His top surgery was experimental, and bottom surgery was never a huge deal to him. Mihawk, luckily, enjoys all bodies and pleasures of the flesh, and he is a quick study under Crocodile's tutelage and experience with the organs he once had.

Buggy falls to pieces more than once, teary eyed and begging and so sweet for them, so cute and attractive with his grasping hands and hiccuping breaths. He is beautiful as he sinks down onto one, cradled by another and wails with the stimulation and hands and hook that break him I to pieces just to reassemble him again.

It ends with them together, indulgent and depraved, christened beneath firelight and debris and the screams of their enemies.

And none of the three had ever felt quite so seem as they did in that moment.

• back on Karai Bari, they sashay back in, mostly, as Buggy has a mild limp.

The lipstick stains and bite marks and bruises and scratches paint a clear enough picture for what happened.

"How was your trip?"

"We blew it up"

"Wha-"

"Fire. Explosives. Our beautiful chairman has quite the knack for such weapons"

"D'aww! Hawky, you'll make me blush!"

"We can make you do more than that, you little shit...~"

"Hehe~"

The poor mercenary is left rebooting.

[factual-fantasy]

10 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🌞

AHEHEHE KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING LIKE A DORK AT THIS 😭😭💞🥺💖💖 THANK YOU SO MCUH!! I DO MY BEST TO MAKE THE EXPRESSIONS KF THE CHARACTERS READABLE AND DRIPPING WITJ EMOTION SO IM GLAD ITS WORKING!! :DD ✨💞✨💖✨

@gummysusie

Oh there's lots I'd be willing to eat if I had to! XDD

My memory ain't the best but off the top of my head-- I'm sure eating miltank meat wouldn't disturb me so much! :0

I like fish so there's a lot of those I'd be willing to try! Magikarp, uhhh those two grumpy fish that are either green/red or green/blue! I forgot the name..

Of course all of the food themed ones would be relatively no problem. Fidough, Milcery.. There's some bird ones that wouldn't be too upsetting too! XDD

As long as my brain relates them to earthly animals, I'm not too disturbed by the thought of eating them XD Im sure they have to eat pokemon in the actual pokemon universe! Where else do their meat based dishes come from? How else do they feed their carnivorous pokemon??

@girlsackthing

Not recently :(( but I'd like to pick it up again someday once I'm feeling better! :}}

@illogically-austere

Hey thanks for checking in, that means a lot 🥹

I'm hanging in there as best I can. I haven't eaten much but am getting plenty of water and rest! I'm hoping this horrible health trial thingy I've been going through is over soon <:}}

@sussyhahag

y a l i k e j a z z ?

@littlelightfish

Hey pal, I hope You're doing alright! Hang in there.. <:}}

I haven't worked much on Tuna's backstory recently.. but I imagined that his blood family was gone.. he lived on a ship with a real rotten crew that was horrible to him.

As for how he joined Seafoam's crew, I imagined that the crew rescued him somehow. Maybe Tuna's old crew attacked Seafoam's crew but he kicked their butts. Perhaps in all the chaos Tuna was left behind by "mistake", only for Foam to welcome him aboard?

Maybe his old crew got too intense and he ran, somehow running into Seafoam and he offered shelter? Or maybe his old ship sank and he was found by Seafoam..? Something along those lines-- XD

Anywho- thank you! Things are starting to look up for me, I'm hoping this journey is almost over! <:}}

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

"Seafoam's heart 🥰..... Metaphorically I mean-"

I would assume so! :0 Maybe a cookie like that already exists in the games!

Well that's hard to say.. I usually draw comics all in one pass. I sketch out the entire comic, and then I go back and draw all the line art, and then I go back and color it all in..

So in that sense 1 drawing for a comic could take days to complete. But if I were to focus on just one panel/drawing? I would guesstimate about 10-15 minutes :0

Now my name! My memory is a little foggy.. but one of my favorite things to do in drawing is to apply logic, reason and explanations for things.

For example, Captain Barnacles! He's a polar bear wearing a full suit and lives out in the Pacific Ocean. Obviously there's a lot that doesn't make sense about that- but mainly the fact that Barnacles would be way too hot!

So I remedy this by making my version of Barnacles have very short fur, a special diet that thins out his blubber, and a special suit that helps keep him cool! It's not perfect obviously but it helps make him living out in the Pacific seem more reasonable. Which is what I love to do, and how I thought of my name! Applying fact to fantasy, Factual Fantasy!

Hm, Bibi's worst fear.. that would have to be something bad happening to me or any of the fam I'd assume <XD

Nothing bad actually happened to Red, that nightmare just manifested because she loves/worries about him so much 🥺💞 Like a mother having dreams about their children getting hurt. Nothing exactly happened to cause it, but they just worry about their babies so much that those dreams happen sometimes..

And lastly, thank you! It's looking good that I might finally get out of this pit. So my spirits are high! :}}

@beryl-shade (sorry for the late response! <:D)

He typically will not allow it 😅 I originally had a drawing idea for this ask but I dont have the strength to get to my PC so I can just explain it!-

I imagined Octo and some of the crew all tied to chairs with some other pirates taunting them. Octo looks very bored and very unintimidated.

Well one of the pirates makes the mistake of grabbing one of Octos tentacles and twirling it around. Octo immediately reacts and uses the other tentacles on his head to restrain his hand and start choking the guy-

The rest of the crew is just laughing and calling that pirate an idiot while he continues to struggle to get away from the angry Octo 🤣

Now on the other hand, if he gets a joking pat on the head from Seafoam? Or if Red is up on his shoulders and he pulls on Octo's hair by mistake? Eh, whatever he doesn't mind much. : '

[saybiwithme]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @spotsandsocks, @bi-buckrights, @your-catfish-friend & @hippolotamus ❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

7

What’s your total ao3 word count?

31,927

What fandoms do you write for?

911 and Druck. Hannibal and Criminal Minds I guess too since I have wips for them.

Top five fics by kudos:

emerald star in the sky 158 Kudos - Eddie decides to put Buck in his will

light surrounding you 156 Kudos - Buck comes out to Hen and Karen

bated breath 121 kudos - Vampire Buck

touch my heart (and let it rest) 117 kudos - Buck and Eddie talk about the shooting

I could take you 100 kudos - Eddie can’t stop thinking about Buck after the kitchen scene in season 3.

Do you respond to comments?

Yes unless I just don’t know how to lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Idk I tend not to write angsty endings.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Surprise party fic because of buddie proposal. I think maybe Buck’s coming out fic as well.

Do you get hate on fics?

No

Do you write smut?

Yeah, it’s not a lot though.

Craziest crossover?

I don’t really write crossovers. I don’t think my brain can handle it lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I just don’t think it would work very well considering how unpredictable my brain is

All time favourite ship?

Buddie for sure and Destiel too.

What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Spencer/Ethan fic. I need to focus so bad on it but my brain really jumps to the other wips first 😔

What are your writing strengths?

God I don’t even know. I feel like I can write emotions okay?

What are your writing weaknesses?

Finding momentum to write a lot or I’ll need to stop and think mid-writing 😐

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I probably wouldn’t write it myself mostly because my knowledge of it isn’t good. I don’t mind reading it though.

First fandom you wrote in?

Druck. It was Why’d you only call me when you’re high?

Favourite fic you’ve written?

Vampire Buck easily. I had so much fun with that and the world building in general. I will also say that the coming out fic for Buck is a favourite of mine too. I just love those two so much.

Tagging: @monsterrae1, @loserdiaz, @bidisasterevankinard, @prettyboybuckley, @rogerzsteven, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @m-y--p-a-s-s-i-o-n-s, @spookylostboy & @elvensorceress

[knavesflames]

@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this

This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me

Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!

Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness

Word count: 3181

Under the cut!!

(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)

That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.

“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”

You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.

“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”

A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“I’m kind of busy.”

“You’ve been busy since-“

You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.

“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.

“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”

“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”

“..touché. But the point stands.”

“Okay.”

Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.

“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”

“You tell me.”

“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”

“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”

Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..

“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”

Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.

“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”

You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”

The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.

“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”

“Mhm.”

“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”

Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.

“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”

“Wrong? No. People liked you.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.

“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”

“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”

She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.

“How do you-“

“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”

“Right.”

“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”

Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“Sorry.”

“You really don’t know?”

“No.”

“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”

Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.

“That was you?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

“Do you even care?”

A pause, and then:

“I do.”

You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.

“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”

“You are too interested in rocks.”

“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”

“No, you’re right. Keep going.”

Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.

“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”

You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.

“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”

Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.

“Stop that.”

Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.

“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”

“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”

A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.

“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“

Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.

“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”

The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.

“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”

Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.

“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don’t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“

She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.

“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”

You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.

“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”

“No.”

You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.

“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”

Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.

“Alright.”

You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.

“You know you have a cobweb?”

“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”

“Is it big?”

“No, but I still won’t touch it.”

Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.

“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”

You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.

“Is that why they run?”

“Mm.”

“How do you hold them, then?”

She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.

“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”

“It’s almost cute.”

“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”

You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.

“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Can I?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty.”

And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.

[ratguy-nico]

Adivinen quien al fin dibujo algo? Wich means I'm back baby!

Its not perfect (like everything I made), but I just love drawing comic-like-stuff, I get to relax more. I dont try to do the lines perfectly or the super accurate anatomy (mostly cause I dont know shit about anatomy at all) and also get to be more simple in the colors, wich helps cause I struggle making colors a lot.

I missed drawing my babies...but why did I drawing them like that? XD I swear...I think I should have seen some reference cause I totally change the way I draw the Burger Babys which is crazy for me XD

Now...is this an AU, is this them as teenagers, why is Louise working on Aplebees? Well I didnt put an exact age for the guys here, they could be 16 or 19 I dunno.

This is solely based on this post from @zer0ogravity I lmao with this and totally need it to draw it.

btw I from Latam, I didn't knew what Applebees was until making this comic so if Applebees dont look like this sorry.