#THANK YOU for the ask and sorry for the delay!!

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — it was all yellow | carlos sainz

Description: After finding Carlos in bed with an internet starlet, you decided to break up with him. 5 years later, you meet him again.

Pairing: actress/singer!reader/carlos sainz

Trope: Secret Baby Trope

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: I got so many requests for this typa trope and I only got the idea now. Super sorry for the 6 month delay WAHHAHA.

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yn.ln: the vibe that we bring to the function. btw 💚 HOTDS2 is out!

liked by danielricciardo and 71,923 others

>comments

danielricciardo: Helaena Targaryen >>> - edited: Helaena Targaryen <<<

echibano82: MAN!! 😭

ynforever: the rise and fall of a midwest princess is my fav album of urs

formula.unoworld: sainz fumbled a baddie

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because.official: Carlos and Pinon 😘❤️ #MyHeart

liked by carlossainz55 and 6,293 others

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foreveryoung78: Wake up Carlos the fatherhood allegations are strong today

solonglondon: U ever heard of a boy named Pablo Sainz? 😳

bestfriendsfw: miss Because...go and tell ur mans - landofanbase: HER NAME ALWAYS TAKES ME OUT 😭 WHY IS HER STAGE NAME "BECAUSE"

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WHO IS CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GIRLFRIEND? BECAUSE...

Brezziana Aziza, whose stage name is Because has gained fame because of her relationship with Formula One Driver Carlos Sainz Jr. Previously known on social media as an influencer who vlogs about her daily life, netizens began to call her "Because" well because of her excessive use of that word.

Although she has stopped using that word since, the name has stuck. She is currently under fire for visiting a Shein Factory in China. For more details please click this link: Shein sent American influencers to China.

>comments

becauseunitedfanbase: she's so funny n quirky i get it why carlos loves her

breatheinlouder: if pablo does belong to sainz, brezziana broke a family up - corduroy8chan: the family broke because sainz allowed it to be broken, she's homewrecker because...? - becauseunitedfanbase: more like home renovator

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Just an Inchident (Charles L., Max V., Lando N., Carlos S.)

Carlos Sainz holy shit guys did you see twitter

Charles Leclerc Yeah man Is it real?

Lando Norris i did some research and this kid's 6-4 yrs old there's a chance mates

Carlos Sainz how am i even supposed to ask her? it was so awkward when it ended i totally regret doing that to her but im so happy with because now

Charles Leclerc There's a fat chance that the kid is yours man

Lando Norris ask her like a civilized man dude i saw a reel where someone asked her if pablos yours

Max Verstappen Who uses reels mate? 🤣 2 reacted 🤣

Lando Norris well she avoided the question silence means yes if you aren't the father she'd answer it

Carlos Sainz maybe she wants to torture me

Charles Leclerc She's a good person man I don't think that she'll do that Plus she's above using her son for leverage

Carlos Sainz and how do you know that Charles? we haven't spoken to her in years

Max Verstappen She grabs coffee with Victoria on Tuesdays I've actually known about Pablo for a while now

Carlos Sainz 👍🏻 2 reacted 🤣

Max Verstappen 👍🏻 .

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yn.ln: i want a velaryon burial #HOTDS2

liked by 93,192 others

>comments

danielricciardo: the camera quality sucks just letting you know - yn.ln: thanks! i have eyes btw

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yn.ln: A lot of you wanted to comment and ask questions about my son, and I never really posted about him because I'm not like those parents who use their kids on social media for likes and clout.

Five years ago, I gave birth to my first baby, Pablo L/N (09/12/18) and every day has been filled with laughter and warmth 🦋 he was not a secret, but I tried to keep his life private. Now, a lot of people feel like they have the right to know everything about him. What he looks like. Who his father is. I'm telling you that it doesn't matter.

You don't have the right to his face. You don't have the right to know about his family life because it doesn't concern you and it never will.

Thank you so much to my friends!! @danielricciardo @rileykeough #DakotaJohnson and #ChrisMartin

liked by 1,239,901 others

>comments

danielricciardo: ❤️

rileykeough: 🥺 i love you and p

victoriaverstappen: We love you! - yn.ln: thank you vic, playdate with luka and lio soon? - victoriaverstappen: Absolutely!

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

Good morning Dessie.

This is Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist, Daniel Kirkman, in light of the rumors between my client and Miss Y/N L/N we humbly request the truth about Pablo L/N's paternity in order to legally and publicly clear things up. Speaking as your old friend, these past few months have been stressful both physically and mentally. Even if there's a sliver of hope that the kid is Carlos' please update me.

Warm regards, Daniel Kirkman.

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

Good afternoon Mr. Kirkman.

I can see that the years have hardly changed you, you still have horrible email etiquette. Because we are old friends, I spoke to Y/N. Truth is, the things that I'm going to share today will ruin your client's reputation if our emails are ever leaked. Remember the fallout of 2018? We both celebrated New Years in Y/N's Santa Monica House.

Actually, New Years was the day we found out that she was pregnant. Not a doubt in our hearts that the baby was Carlos'. We were about to tell him but the moment we landed in Ibiza, she saw Carlos in bed with Brezziana. (I refuse to call her Because!! BECAUSE it is confusing and preposterous.)

I think that hiding Pablo from his father wasn't right, but I don't blame her for doing it. As for the paternity test, Y/N agreed but the team will come back to you with the legalities and such. As a 'friend' I want to tell you that the best Carlos is ever going to have is him paying child support and seeing the child once or twice a month.

Y/N has a lot of lawyers, more than we do friends. And judging by Carlos' personality, I don't think that he'll fight for his son.

Warm Regards, Destiny Bumgarner

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

Good evening Destiny! What makes you think that Y/N's going to win the legalities? + I never expected you to reveal all of this via chat. You sure that I won't betray you?

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

I got dealt with the winning hand now Dan.

I know you're smart enough not to doubt me. :)

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

All is fair in connections and clientele?

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

All is fair in life, Dan.

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oliviacooke: sorry for drinking your juice hun. 📸 pablo l/n

liked by 283,192 others

>comments

yn.ln: haha thanks for carrying his bags liv

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There are only two things. Truth and lies.

Truth is indivisible, hence it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie.

The past that you've tried to bury has slowly began to reveal itself. Maybe it was your fault, you aren't sure...

Carlos Sainz was a horrible man. He cheated on you. He didn't apologize. He admitted that another woman made him happier. Was there something special about her? A simple internet starlet with no proper claim to fame made him feel more alive.

"You've got to face him anyways." Dakota placed a glass of wine on the coffee table. "Pablo isn't his. He doesn't even look like him." you shook your head, unable to accept the inevitable truth.

"I've read all the posts on Twitter, they don't think that I have the right to push my son away from his father. Carlos is immature, I don't think that he's even capable of being a father." you scoff, taking a sip.

Haven't you given your son everything that he needed? An iPad, a big house, private education, and vacations in all the nice places.

"Two wrongs don't make a right." Destiny breathed.

"- from what Kirkman says, Carlos has changed. I don't encourage you to be romantic partners or even best friends, but please be civil for Pablo. Please let him have a civil relationship with his father." she added. "I hate it when you're right." you looked away.

You've seen his posts. You've seen his interviews.

There wasn't a bone in his body that screamed mischievousness anymore. He looked tame. Happier.

He achieved all of that without you, and maybe you could be that too.

You can be everything without him too.

"So you'll talk to him?" Dakota asked.

"I'll give it a try." I relented.

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Look at the stars.

Look how they shine for you.

The music played in the background as you sashayed your way into the VIP section of your friend's restaurant. Destiny was an angel enough to close shop and ensure that your privacy was protected especially in these vulnerable moments.

A sigh escapes your mouth, hearing that song in the background. As much as you adored Chris Martin, this song was getting in your feels.

You take a sharp turn, halting once you see his figure.

The very same man that shattered your world in Ibiza. The very same man that looked you in the eyes while he admitted that someone else made him much much happier than you, his fiancee.

And it was called Yellow.

"Thank you so much for being here, Y/N." your name sounded soft on his lips. Behind his brown eyes, there was sorrow - not to be confused with regret because he looked better than he ever was. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" you chuckled.

While nothing about you has changed.

Carlos has changed drastically.

"Destiny told me about the emails. Your team wanted a paternity test, right? You don't need it, Pablo is yours." you decided to be straightforward, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth.

You could feel that bitterness on your throat, like tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes, like you just swallowed a pill and forgot to drank water afterwards.

"Uhh - I found out on New Years day, and I wanted to tell you in Ibiza." you didn't bother to continue the story. He knows what you mean.

For you I'd bleed myself dry.

"I'm sorry, really sorry for not being a man. I know that we were about to get married, and I got scared. I was 24 years old, everyone was telling me that I had another life ahead of me. I was young. I wanted to ruin my life. I-I shouldn't have brought you with me." he apologized, trying to find the words that could articulate his feelings.

This was all that you needed from him.

An apology.

"When Destiny found out, she grabbed me by the ear. Told me that I could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve you. I believe her, and I want to do everything to make it up to you and Pablo." he promised, but there were still words unsaid - the turn of his brows telling you that he wasn't willing to return back to normal.

That he still loves Because more than he's ever loved you.

"Do you love her?" you smiled bitterly. Your smile.

Look how they shine for you.

"I betrayed both of you that night. She didn't know that we were dating. She didn't know who I was. I apologized to her and she forgave me, but I realized a few years after that I should've apologized to you too." he admitted. "- I love her, really."

You knew that he wasn't lying.

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destinybumgarner: this is the PINK PONY CLUB

liked by 712 others

>comments

yn.ln: WAHAHAH IM JUST HAVING FUN

danielkirkman: crowns c / o pablo the prince

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part two

A/N What driver or actor should we pair reader with? 😭 comment to get tagged

[the-californicationist]

Hi hi! Love your blog! For the Gift of GIF ask game:

Thank you so much for the GIF ask!! So glad y'all like this ask game. Sorry about the delay. Hope this is something you like!

TW: DaddyDom language, female genitals, sex toys, safe and explicit consent, come play

Shore Leave

Your husband, Alex Keller, finally makes good use of his time off and takes you on your dream vacation. Little do you know that he has darker motives…

The view from your poolside suite was breathtaking in all of the best ways. An endlessly-reflected infinity pool bled right into the deep cerulean Pacific Ocean, making it seem like you could swim forever and ever and never stop. The sky was a mirror of the water, cloudless and pure. Although the sun was out, you were comfortable, and the breeze made you feel like you were always in a limbo between being awake and trapped within a lucid dream. 

Even more enthralling was the way your husband’s body felt beneath yours. He was shirtless, clad only in a light pair of linen pants, and his warm body was curled around you protectively like a covetous hound. You’d never felt so safe. 

However, you were also made to feel other things as well. 

It had all started very innocently. He’d woken you up with poached eggs and freshly squeezed juice, running a warm bath and rubbing you down with lotion and oil before you stepped outside. Then, he’d gifted you with a brand new thong bikini, his eyes hungry as you tried it on. You thought you’d be following him down to the beach, eager to splash in the waves and show off your new fit, but he pulled you onto the pool deck instead. 

He’d kissed you softly, teasingly. It was so different than his usual rabid fervor. You loved the way your husband could barely keep your clothes on when you were alone. You’d missed your dinner reservations more than once. But, you reasoned with yourself, he was always on deployment. Of course he was a little excited. 

Now, though, that excitement had given way to mischief. As you had sat by the pool, kissing and holding hands, innocently watching the ships float by, you’d been lulled into a false sense of security. 

And so, here you lay, your pussy stuffed with an automated vibrator, your poor unused asshole filled with an enormous plug, whimpering and begging for relief. Every time you would get close, writhing your body against his, trying to entice him with your hands and your long, smooth legs, he ignored you. He could control the vibe from his phone, and you never knew which way he was going to go. Sometimes, he would switch it off, watching you desperately humping his leg like a feral dog, swollen and perched on the edge of an orgasm. 

His dark chuckle made your blood run cold,

“Does my good girl need something?”

Alex peered down into your face, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, smug and thoroughly enjoying himself. 

“Oops,” he adjusted your thong again, jiggling the plug as he did so, “Keep these nice and high for me, baby. Need to be able to admire this plump ass of yours. Mmm. What a view.” 

A hard, aching squeeze of his huge hand on your ass cheek made you see white, the sensation of all of his toys inside of you making even the smallest affection feel like wildfire. 

“Please, Daddy, I’ll be a good girl. Please, may I come… please?” You tried to beg. You’d tried before. Nothing was helping. You could feel the slip and slide of your slick between the meat of your inner thighs. 

“Not yet. Trust me, honey. I know what’s best for you, don’t I?”

You didn’t say a word, but you watched wide-eyed as he pulled another velveteen drawstring bag from his case. When he opened up the box, you could tell he’d already inspected and cleaned it. All of its wrapping was gone, and the straps were already in place. 

It was a familiar piece. He’d used gags with you before, and nothing brought you more pleasure than allowing his hands and mouth and cock to bring you to your peak over and over again while you mindlessly allowed your shining drool to melt down your neck and onto your tits. When he removed it and allowed you to swallow him, replacing the silicone ball with his warm, softening cock, already emptied of its seed — you’d never come so hard in your life. 

But this was no ball. This was a fat, silicone cock gag. 

“Daddy, please. I’ll be quiet. I promise. Please… No, I’m —” 

“Hey, show me your left hand,” he became very serious. 

In your hand, you held a loud alarm button, your finger over the trigger, ready to press it at any time. When he saw it, checking in with you that you were still in your safe zone, he smiled.

“That’s perfect, baby. Such a good little slut for me. How did I get so lucky?” He kissed your cheek, shining with old and new tears, streaking down your face from overstimulation, and he planted chaste kisses on your quivering lip. You let yourself lean towards his affection, seeking more of his comfort, only to be firmly held back in place with his hand as he wrapped around your cheek.

“Shh, shh. Daddy just wants you to feel so good, baby. Now, open up.”

You stared at him with huge, gleaming doe eyes, tears threatening to run out of the corners of them again. 

When you didn’t immediately comply, he grabbed the nape of your scalp and yanked your head back, not hurting you, but getting your attention. 

“Am I gonna have to bruise that fine fuckin’ ass, huh? Make you walk down the fuckin’ beach with my palm prints all over you?”

“No, Daddy. I’ll be good. I’ll be good,” you gasped when the vibrator started up again as he flipped a switch. The shock made you clench down around it, which jostled the heavy plug, all in a series of mind-numbing chain reactions designed to edge you within an inch of your sanity. 

“I know you will be. Now… open… that… mouth.”

Alex pressed the tip of the gag to your lips and you opened up for him, sucking it into your lips just like his cock. He pushed it all the way in and it almost landed in the back of your throat. Any further and you wouldn’t be able to breathe. It was a perfect fit. 

Then, slowly, almost painfully so, he pulled it back out, staring into your eyes and seeing what you needed. 

“Go on, baby. I know you wanna suck it for me. Show me.”

You wrapped your lips around it again, and as he held it in place, you bobbed your head up and down, your tongue lapping at the head of his toy. You made sure to look straight into his eyes as you used your mouth on it, letting your spit coat the silicone and drip onto his fist. 

He removed his hand from your head and pet your hair gently, smoothing it away from your face.

“My poor, hungry little whore. Let’s fill you up, hm?”

Your protests became warped into a garbled whine as Alex pressed the toy all the way into your mouth, making sure it was flush and, before you knew it, you were being latched into the gag. The cock you were sucking was now perched at the farthest edge of your tongue, the soft head pressing into your palate, threatening to choke you. 

Alex bent his neck to kiss your mouth as your lips stretched around the toy, smiling as he turned his attention back to his phone. He turned the vibrator down to a medium rumble and removed himself from your cuddling position to stand near the edge of the pool chair. 

“C’mere, baby. Lemme show you somethin’,” your adoring husband held out his hand and you struggled to stand with him, stumbling on shaking legs. 

He walked you over to the tall dividing wall between your suite and the popular beach, each step making the toys thrust up inside of you as you swayed your hips. Your weakness and the unevenness of the ground made your footing jerky and chaotic, adding to the creamy, lurid jostling happening inside of you. The pressure from the anal plug was so satisfying, and your vibrator teased your most sensitive spot, deep within you, just like a curling finger. Without your thong, you know your vibrator would have slipped out of you on your journey. You had never been so wet, and the way the toy was wriggling inside of your hole was making you dizzy. 

Finally, you made it to the wall and used it to support yourself, squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some relief. Alex pointed down to the beach, showing you the little umbrellas and towels full of soldiers on shore leave, all oblivious to your torture.

“Put your hands on the wall, spread your legs apart, and don’t move them until I tell you to. Hold up a two if you understand me.”

You held up a two with your hand and then placed both of your palms on the wall, gripping it for dear life, feeling the long thread of your tangled orgasm beginning to unravel. Alex nudged your legs even wider, changing the angle of the toys within your body. The vibe buzzed away deep within you, faithfully held in place by your tight thong. 

Then, you felt the familiar loosening of your bathing suit top as Alex yanked out the bow you had tied, letting the small fabric flutter away, revealing your breasts to the soft breeze. If any of the partying soldiers got too curious and decided to study you from below, they’d surely be able to see your dark nipples as they tightened on your tits, unbelievably sensitive in your current predicament. 

You whined, and Alex shushed you, 

“Shh, baby. I know. What if they see? That’s why you need to be nice and quiet for Daddy, hm? Wouldn’t want to attract any visitors, now would we? Now…” He grabbed your hips, his thumbs digging into the v-shaped strap of your thong, “Suck that cock for me while Daddy plays with his toys.”

You tried to focus on his instructions, but you couldn’t bear the anticipation. What was he about to do to you? You let your eyes wander back towards him, trying to prepare for whatever came next.

A rough hand came around to grab you by the jaw,

“What did I say? Show me how you swallow that dick, honey, or I’ll make you scream so they can all watch you do it.”

You nodded as best you could, trying to show him you could be a good girl for him, and you experimented a little, swallowing in an exaggerated rhythm, feeling the gag sliding back and forth through your mouth as your throat moved. It made you drool a bit, the spit pooling at the ring of your stretched lips, running down your chin. 

“That’s it,” Alex praised you, rubbing his clothed cock against your ass from behind, “That’s what I wanna hear. Keep sucking, just like that.”

So, you did. As you swallowed and suckled on the solid shape, it began to feel more and more like the real thing. The ridges of the head, the pronounced veins of the body; it was all contributing to the absolute mindrot you were already experiencing. You let the cock fuck your mouth, using the tension of your tongue to mimic the feeling, allowing your thoughts to dissipate in favor of the sparkling blissed your husband had promised you. 

Alex kept his crotch jammed against the cleft of your ass, forcing you to feel his hard shaft as it rolled against you, reaching around your body to softly pluck at your nipples. 

At the first touch of his fingertips, you gasped, sucking in air through your nose, nearly losing your footing. His hands mirrored each other, rubbing feather-light circles around your pebbled skin, petting your heavy breasts with the palms of his hands. He was fire and ice, at one point squeezing your flesh cruelly and pinching you hard enough to make you cry out through the muffle of the gag, and then sweet as could be, stroking and petting you like a scared bunny. 

You weren’t sure of the concept of time. It could have been only seconds that he played with you like this, or perhaps an hour had gone by. You just knew that your lover wanted to hear your hungry suckling sounds and to touch your swaying breasts. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. 

Then, he pulled the other string at your back, letting your top fall to the ground. 

You missed his touch immediately, turning your head to look back at him, questioning his choices. It was the wrong move. You knew he would take care of you, but your fervor made you selfish and doubtful. 

You faced the ocean again, watching the soldiers as you swallowed against the dick in your mouth, ignoring the obvious lines of spit hanging from your mouth. Alex came around to the wall and perched himself against it. After watching you for a few moments, he took his hand and wiped your mouth, smearing your own spit all over your tits, wetting your nipples so that the cool air could tease them. 

Then, right in front of you, he unbuttoned his fly and took his cock from his pants. He began to stroke it in a languid, lazy pattern, slathering his precome over his immense head and down his shaft. Surprisingly, the cock gag made you hungrier for the real thing, and you eyed him like a prize. 

“I want to make sure you’re really enjoying this vacation, baby. I planned it all for you. Are you having fun?”

You nodded enthusiastically, knowing he was leading up to something threatening. You loved him like this. And he loved you when you were fully under his command. Under his care. All for him. His plaything. 

“I’m about to look and see how much fun you’re having…” He let his fat cock hang and walked around to your rear, “Are you ready for me to see the pretty little mess you made, darlin’?”

You nodded again, steeling yourself for what was coming. 

He placed his hand at the very middle of your thong and pulled up on it instead of down, cramming the toys inside of you deeper than they had been, making you writhe and whine, losing control of your legs, feeling them trembling, barely able to hold you up. 

He let go. You breathed as deeply as you could, feeling like the cock in your mouth was growing down your throat, wishing you could scream in earnest. 

Then, he rolled down your bottoms until your spread thighs stopped them, your ass and pussy now on full display.

He hummed with pleasure, and you heard his pants fall to the ground, rustling in the grass and pooling around your husband’s ankles. 

Suddenly, fingers began to tug at the plug in your ass, pulling it in an undulating pattern against your muscular ring, making you feel like you were being fucked by a thick cock. Then, he applied even pressure, and removed it, letting your hole clench around nothing for a moment before teasing you with the rounded tip. Alex let it fuck you shallowly for a while, pressing it forward only a few inches at a time, barely applying any pressure at all. Until he put it back in. He stretched you again, and you realized that since you’d become all too comfortable at the thin, flat base, and you hadn’t had a chance to get accustomed to the insane girth; it was as if you were starting from scratch. 

You rolled your hips, trying to ease the pressure, and he rolled the toy with you, playing with you like a lion plays with its food, batting you around, helpless to his power. 

The vibrator was flailing inside of your pussy at top speed, pulsing and rumbling loud enough for you to hear the mechanical whir. And every time he pushed the plug back inside of you, the tone of it would change. Your body was making music for him, and you couldn’t help it one bit. 

“Beautiful…” You could hear the smile on his lips. 

Everything stopped for a moment, but you thought you heard a soft slicking sound, the noise of him jacking off. Then, you felt his fleshy head push its way into your pussy, already filled by the deep vibe. 

You turned around, worried, unable to protest with the cock still deep in your mouth, pinning down your tongue. 

His sunglasses were off, and he was focused on your hole, using your sticky come to coat himself, thrusting shallowly inside of you right beside the vibrator. 

He wasn’t going to fit. You’d never felt so full before. You were already so primed, the audacious lewdness of it all sent you over the edge. You crashed into your orgasm like a runaway train, slamming full force into a wall of sensations. Your skin flushed hot all at once, like an instant fever, and you felt your holes clutch desperately onto anything they could find, squeezing and pulsing and swelling against him. 

You lost your strength to stand, but he held you, carrying your weight like it was nothing. And he kept pushing forward, easing his cock right beside the toy, holding it steady inside of you. 

“There she is. You’re doing so well for me, baby. Daddy’s perfect little hole.” 

Once he was fully sheathed within you, you both sighed raggedly, melting into the feeling like molten glass in a kiln. Below you, the soldiers laughed, running through the shallow water, having the time of their lives. 

Alex began to fuck you with very little heed for your well-being. You had your button, you could press it at any time, and out of all of his fun toy box prizes, you’d not once felt like anything had been beyond your abilities. But, now, as his cock made room for itself in your tight walls, you wondered if you could take it. 

You understood size queens, the girls who insisted on girthy, long phalluses and who refused to settle for less. You knew why they insisted, now. Your g-spot was lit up like a beacon. There was no waiting to feel his cockhead rub lightly against it. No, it was on and it stayed on because of the terrible girth of both the toy and his dick. You were coming not in waves, but in some sort of constant stream. There was no start and stop to your orgasms; you were given no let down on their end nor warning on their beginning. You were just kept in a hot, milky, perpetual state of bliss that made your eyes roll back into your head. 

The plug in your ass began to come out of you as you came. He was pulling against it, prying it from you until it popped free. You knew you were gaping open for him because when he explored the empty hole with his fingers, you could tell how pliant and soft your body was now that it had been so deeply filled. 

“My good girl. Taking everything her Daddy gives her today.”

Alex praised you, but you didn’t respond. Your mind was a blank slate. All you could do was tumble further down the winding path of your own pleasure. 

You felt him pull himself free from the grip of your pussy, gasping from the relief. He slipped the vibrator out of you, too, switching it off and discarding it somewhere. Then, you were empty. So empty that it felt like grief. And you cried out for his help as much as you could around the gag. 

“C’mere, honey. On your knees for Daddy.”

You fell to the ground limply, turning toward him for guidance, for any sort of reprieve. 

He looked down at you with so much love and admiration, bending to kiss your forehead and removing your gag. 

“So good. Such an obedient slut. I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“But, Daddy, you didn’t come, yet.” You pawed at his hips, rubbing his belly and reaching for his chest, stretching yourself to try and give yourself back to him.

“Today’s not about me, baby,” he smiled sweetly at you, but you weren’t having it. 

His cock was pink and flagging, practically dripping with precome, ready to burst. You reached for it, feeding it into your sore mouth, sucking it down like you’d been practicing on the gag. It was too big, but you pushed through it, swallowing and swallowing until you couldn’t breathe, hollowing out your cheeks to make your mouth into a warm wet sleeve for him. 

“Baby… oh, shit. Ungh! Holy hell.”

Without any further hesitation, he began to fuck your throat, shoving himself deeper and deeper, controlling your head and moving himself within you like a piston. You let yourself go limp again, allowing the pornographic slurping sounds of your rough-fucked mouth to be as loud and as messy as he wanted them to, abandoning your shame. You rubbed yourself with your hand, shoving your fingers into your soaked pussy, and playing with your clit, already sensitive enough to come again. 

He had trained you so well. This was your moment to shine. 

You came with him, looking up into the twisted agony on his face as he filled your belly with his load, trying to pull away to let you breathe, leaving a trail of thick spend all along your tongue and cheeks, your mouth full of him by the time he slid away from you. 

You made sure he was looking down at you when you spit him into your hands, letting his milk pool in your palms, rubbing him all over your puffy nipples and down between your swollen petals, pushing him into your pussy with your fingers only to return to your breasts to smear him around like a salve. As he watched you in excitement and a wild disbelief, his gaze darkened, and he wrapped his hand around your throat, bending down so that you could hear the rough growl in the timbre of his voice,

“Oh, baby. You just bought yourself round two.”

AO3 Link

Also, @glitterypirateduck - are we still in vacation mode?? 😅🩷

[timchalamet-devoted]

Timothee and Y/N go out to eat and unfortunately Timothee’s stomach doesn’t agree with the meal he eats because of the spice in it. He’s worried it ruined date night by Y/N takes care of him and reassures him he didn’t.

Female reader plz and thx

Hello!! Thank you for the request, I'm sorry it took me so long to write it, I've been incredibly busy with exams 😭

It's quite short, but I hope you like it <3

Drama Queen

Fluff!

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

Timothée's head rested on your shoulder as your fingers carded through his tangled curls. His face was twisted in pain, soft groans escaping his lips every now and again. He rested his weight entirely on you, nearly causing you to collapse right then and there, on the hallway floor. You hated to see him like this even if you knew he was just being his theatrical self.

In reality, the situation was not at all grave, yet Timothée seemed to make it his mission to blame himself.

Just hours prior, you were sitting contently at a Korean restaurant that you've been eying for some time. The night was perfect: delicious food, great conversation, and abundant time to simply bask in eachothers company.

That was until Timothée's stomach completely gave in to all the spice he had consumed that evening. And so, you had to race home, where you spent the next half an hour digging through the medicine cupboard, still in you sparkly date night dress, only for him to be a stubborn baby and refuse to take the medicine.

In his words, he "ruined the evening and deserved to feel this way."

"See, you would feel better if you only took the medicine." You tried to reason, only getting a shake of his head in return.

"Nooo. Don't wanna."

You rolled your eyes at the evident pout in his voice. He was nothing if not a drama queen.

You let your hands move down to his face and cup his cheek, silently asking him to look at you. He did, and as you locked eye contact, you could see the genuine concern painted on his face.

You smiled softly at him, a gesture which he didn't return, instead casting his gaze to the floor.

"Please don't think you ruined our night." You spoke gently, trying your best to comfort him.

" I had an absolutely wonderful evening, and now I just want to help you, darling. "

"Are you sure it's okay?"

Came his feeble response.

"Of course, my lovlie. Please, take the medicine, and then we can watch a film and cuddle?"

His head instantly bolted upwards, earning an amused giggle from you. Without any further delay, he rushed off into the kitchen, popping the tablet into his mouth and chugging it down with some water.

He returned to you with a dorky grin, arms outstretched and ready to envelop you in his embrace once more.

[kunikinnie]

a/n: this one was in the drafts for a long time lol anw hope you guys like it!

birthday

Today passed quicker than you expected. Since your birthday plans were canceled due to his work, you had much more time to do other things - although of course the disappointment did not fully dissipate. 

You were typing away at your laptop, focusing on work that demanded utmost attention, and by the time you had finished the clock almost struck midnight. Was it that late? Oh well. One last look at your phone messages was all you had to do before sleeping anyway - your heart was especially expectant when you checked on his conversation - but there was nothing. Such was life, you thought, and you were about to tuck yourself in when a loud knock interrupted you. 

Curiously you strode to your door, and the moment you opened it you nearly gasped at the mess of a man standing in front of it.

“Wh-what am I looking at…?” you asked in confusion.

“Your boyfriend…?”

Tetchou was far from presentable: his cap was barely on his sweaty hair and his uniform stained with blood aside from the torn and frayed portions. It was the complete opposite from the bouquet of flowers in his two fingers that were immaculate and fresh.

“No, I mean what is that?” 

Your eyes were fixed on the large triangular metal sheet with “Happy Birthday” hastily painted on it. The marks of steel being ripped from its center were apparent, so this could only be…

“I thought flowers weren’t enough so I wanted to make a placard… but I didn’t have any materials so I just used this traffic sign that I accidentally cut off during the chase.”

The absurdity of it all made you question your sanity. So he couldn’t find an illustration board or something similar but there was paint lying around? Were you just in a fever dream? That was the most logical explanation, but the strength of the scent of his sweat when he stepped closer to you suggested otherwise. 

“Sorry… is it too much?” 

The puppy eyes that you kept falling for had landed a critical hit once again. Yes, it was too much - too much compared to what you had expected he would ever do for you for something so inane as this. Yet your heart couldn’t help but swell with delight at his efforts.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you..”

Without further delay you let him inside your warm apartment. He handed over his bouquet and the improvised placard which you placed on the table and swapped for your own present. All the while you continued to barrage him with questions and words of concern: Why was his uniform in tatters? Was he injured? Why did he push himself to come here today? Yet he answered none of those and simply sprawled beside your bed. 

“At least change first, please?”

“Too tired… ran all the way here,” he panted. The image of him running poker faced with the giant stop sign was one you never thought you’d have to imagine, but then again nothing was impossible with Tetchou.

“Besides,” he continued, eyes only half open. “I promised you I’d come today. You were so excited so… can’t… just…”

You quickly caught him before his face hit the floor. He should have come tomorrow instead. Or maybe on the weekend if he was that busy. A few more days to add to the weeks you hadn’t seen him in person was nothing compared to his immediate welfare.  

The guilt and gratitude overflowed as you pulled him up to your bed. He always took care of you whenever he could, so helping him get a good night’s sleep is the least you could do in return. And that in itself was something you were more than glad to do for him - why would you do any less for the love of your life?

You placed a soft kiss on his forehead.  “Thank you, Tetchou,” you whispered before finally retiring for the night in your spare futon.

taglist: @stygianoir, @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas, @kunikida-simp

[princessmacedon]

"Happy birthday my dear, sweet Maria!" Deirdre's smile is as bright as the yellow and white daisies she has woven into a flower crown as she places it gently atop her darling friend's head. The flowers suit her beautifully, Deirdre thinks. Sunny and cheerful and bursting with life.

Maria stands with her head tilted forward, obedient and still, as her longtime friend crowns her with a wreath of spring. Or... very nearly still, at least; her fingers wiggle digit-by-digit over her skirt as she waits, from the left to the right and then left again, restless like the upwardly-skewed line of her lips.

"Hee hee... Thank you, Miss Deirdre!" Adventurous fingertips ghost over the daisies with which she has been appointed, and in finding the petals cool and delicate to the touch, Maria retreats in satisfaction. "They're so pretty!" Though she can't see them now that they sit atop her head, she'd seen them just before -- and besides! The crown is a gift from Miss Deirdre, and it makes her feel pretty, so surely it must be true!

"I like them very much!" She smiles, and she turns, and she half-twirls her skirt, and then-- Maria pauses as her uniform slowly flutters back into place, looking up at the woman with hopeful eyes. From when Maria in her childishness had sought to protect her, to the moment in that distant dream when Miss Deirdre sent her away to safety instead... for a passing heartbeat, she stands and remembers all of it, her heart swelling with affection.

"...May I hug you, Miss Deirdre? Please?" Her head tips, a shining grin knocked back into its rightful place. "I have so many things to thank you for!"

[hazmatmaid]

Hi! So what ARE your Spamton headcanons? How do you like to portray him?

Mighty kind of you to ask! Apart from much of these being made with the help of @val-of-the-north, I've been intending to draw his known eras in life, and this is the perfect opportunity to detail each:

Addi Spamton:

He's just some guy. A young adult with some semblance of direction in life, but neither the know-how nor the skill to get there. Despite this, he still talks himself up with confidence you wouldn't otherwise expect from him.

If I ever have any "cutesy blushy uwu" interactions, I dump them all here, where I think he's young and inexperienced enough for it to make the most sense.

He once tried to sell home insurance to a hotel guest.

All of his buddies mostly pity him for his abysmal luck (or whatever else might be holding him back), rather than simply looking down on him, even if they are embarrassed to be seen with him.

Just as prone to bullshitting (and getting pissed off when he's called out on it) as his future selves.

I don't consistently include his hairline in this stage, I mostly just draw it for my own convenience.

Big Shot Spamton:

A Spamton who knows success to not only afford basic cost of living, but to have his name and face on every sign, screen, and soda in Cyber World (and possibly beyond). Naturally, because of his aforementioned ambition, and unlike his former peers, he doesn't question if he deserves any of it, having an obnoxious, arrogant "I told you so" attitude.

His idea of gifts to his old Addison buddies is his own merchandise (once couldn't attend one of their birthdays, and instead sent them a giant cungadero-shaped cake decorated with neon signs, sparklers, and a picture of him leaning out the window).

Ain't no way he's not spending bank on hookers and cocaine.

If he has a softer side at this point in his life, rarely anyone would see it.

Present Spamton:

A 40-something Spamton who has long since abandoned much of his morals and inhibitions, even somewhat before his downfall.

Down with murder: this doesn't necessarily mean that I just see him as a mindless killer. Far from it, in fact. His role in Snowgrave is to take advantage of it in a calculated manner once he sees what's going on.

He is capable of kindness (or as close as he can possibly get to it), but it's more him reciprocating someone else's kindness. Even if he does do this unprompted, he probably has to relate to them, or see himself in them on some level.

This version of him is where I am most prone to claiming other absurd, wacky things of him (not that his BShot self is exempt from this).

While I tend to see him at this point as mostly self-serving, conniving, and planning all manner of revenge/murder, I don't think he's entirely beyond redemption and saving, but it would probably take another whole route of character development for him to get anywhere close.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA

I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?

I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!

Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!

I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^

((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))

As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely

Kissable

George Weasley X AFAB reader

Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know

Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.

“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.

“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.

He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.

“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.

“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.

He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.

“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.

After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.

“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.

“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.

“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.

“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.

Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.

With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.

The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?

“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.

The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.

It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.

“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.

“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.

“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.

With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.

“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.

Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.

It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.

Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.

“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.

There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.

“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.

“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.

Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.

A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.

“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.

“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.

“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.

“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.

“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.

You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.

The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.

The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.

It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.

“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.

The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.

Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.

“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.

“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.

“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.

That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.

He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.

Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.

[corrodedcoughin]

So I know celebrity rockstar Eddie with Just-Some-Guy Steve is popular, but what about the opposite?

Steve, who is a professional Basketball player, got scouted from where he played for his college team. The fan fave, the darling of the locals, and one of the best players on the team. Models for sportswear brands, has had interviews and talks at schools and the media loves him. He's handsome, and nice, and has publicly come out.

And then there's Eddie. His boyfriend since college. Just some guy who runs a music store. Started just as a minimum wage worker and then slowly worked his way up to running a small business himself. Sells guitars and drums and other instruments. Vinyl and cds and music merch. Hosts guitar lessons. Is happy playing music because he loves it, not for the fame and money.

Eddie goes to all his games (or as many as he can) and while he's not a sports guy and never will be he loves watching Steve play. Is only about 80% sure of the rules at best and that's good enough for Steve. And Steve who's not a metal fan, and will never be into DnD but will spend his free evenings helping Eddie plan a campaign or listening to this song Eddie's been trying to learn on the guitar.

Idk I just think it's fun to explore the opposite! Eddie getting excited any time he sees people wearing Steve's merch in public and people keep mistaking him for a hardcore fan because no one knows who he is and honestly he's fine with that. He is a big fan of Steve

he's a big fan of steve' MOMO THAT LAST LINE TOOK ME OUT!!!! OHH!!!!

Okay so as always i am IN LOVE with your ideas and where you take them and explore with the space.

Please can I have Eddie who doesn't completely GET sports but he DOES get collecting so he has one of those card books and collects basket ball trading cards. He has a full page of 'Steves' that he every proud of because he's drawn on some of them, giving him different outfits/hair/facial hair/speech bubbles, some include dragon hatcher steve, android steve, malibu barbie steve and pronstache steve (that one wasn't even drawn on, Steve was just trying something new and it got immortailised in a trading card much to Eddie's delight. His personal favourite is a Steve mid spin of the ball on his fingertip, the image of concentration and Eddie has yet to see a photo that highlights the muscle and bite-ability of Steve's arms quite as well as that one.

When Eddie and Steve are out for dinner and Eddie sees a little kid wearing a shirt with Steve's name on it he's quick to point it out to the delight of his boyfriend, both of them trying to figure out a way to subtly let the kid know that 'Harrington' is here.

Eddie who turns up to games with the kids and a foam finger because 'Steve come on its hilarious' but in reality he just loves obnoxiously supporting him. Steve kisses his finger tips and waves to Eddie before running to join the team in the changing rooms. Eddie who catches it and stuffs it in his pocket in the most dramatic way possible. Steve who laughs every time because he wouldn't have it any other way.

[fantastic-nonsense]

Hi! I've never done this before but I'm new to comics (started with WFA and Zatanna and the Ripper) and I've basically got most of my information from posts on tumblr and r/hobbydrama (including yours.) I think I have a general idea of what Jason Todd is like, but I believe a lot of people are unhappy with his new characterisation.

So, if you were the one in charge, how would you write him? Would you write him with a team or as a solo character? Would you have him use the All-Blades or a crowbar or his guns? Would you have him properly rejoin the batfam or not?

Thanks!

Hi! Welcome to the fandom! I hope you're enjoying your time here.

In general, I think DC (and the fandom) has spent too much time milking Jason's death for trauma porn. They have refused to allow him to find closure, move past that, and exist beyond his daddy issues drama with Bruce. When DC has allowed him to have stories outside of that, they were often written with little consideration for what should be done with Jason beyond making him "badass."

None of this has been conducive to creating any kind of satisfying and coherent narrative or character arc for Jason, especially when both writers and editorial seem more obsessed with stealing traits, relationships, and stories from other people to give to him (most prominently Dick, Selina, and Helena). My hottake is that DC should move beyond "Red Hood" as an identity for Jason entirely, because it drags his character down and keeps him inherently tied to the same problems that have kept his character stagnant for years.

However! I don't think he's unsalvagable. I simply think DC needs to put a decent writer on him and commit to a character direction for more than 2 years at a time. I'm unsure of what Shawn Martinbrough is currently doing with Jason in his The Hill arc, as I'm not reading it, but I've heard that there might be some forward momentum finally happening there?

Anyway, my personal conception of Jason's future (as lovingly brainstormed by me and my friends in our comics discord server) is effectively this: he becomes a street-level paranormal detective who solves cold murder cases by talking with the victims' ghosts and providing closure to restless spirits. Think Lockwood and Co. meets Pushing Daisies with a superhero twist; basically, a supernatural detective noir book.

There's a lot of concepts and lore drops tied into this idea, but basically it was born out of a discussion where I was talking about Jason's many connections with the supernatural and occult across all continuities and how it's kind of a mystery why DC hasn't just formally connected him to the mystical side of the DCU. So I was like "they should just reveal that Superboy-Prime’s reality punch resurrection left him LITERALLY undead, make the event where he finds this out also spark his ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and make him an occult detective. Let him close cold case murder files and put those spectres to rest."

Which is also a great premise for a Bat book and a great unfilled niche for a Batfamily member. Kate's supernatural stories are much more high concept and connected to her family drama. Damian's supernatural/occult connections are traditionally very heavily tied to his family history and the Lazarus Pits. Dick's semi-regular magic encounters are usually stuff he deals with alongside his teammates in the course of working with the Titans. None of the other Bats have enough regular encounters with the supernatural and magic side of the DCU for it to encroach on their shtick, and a Gotham-based supernatural book is well within DC's ability to publish and market given books like Gotham by Midnight.

In terms of how that direction affects all the other questions you asked...I think Jason's relationship with the rest of the Batfam should be complicated. I personally don't think "good/bad relationship with the Batfam" is a particularly useful way to look at it because I think there are people he should never see eye to eye with, people he realistically shouldn't and doesn't have a problem with, and people he should get along with just fine. I don't think everyone needs to or should be friends or enemies with him, but his morals and past actions will (and should!) complicate those relationships in interesting ways.

And re: what weapons I'd like to see him use...using the All-Blades would certainly factor into my proposed narrative direction, as that would lean into the supernatural connections, but I generally prefer the concept of Jason using knives as his preferred weapon over guns/a crowbar/etc. That way he can still be a marksman without using guns, and I think that fits more with his character trajectory as someone attempting to be less lethal but also has no problem roughing people up when he thinks they need to be.

[wedontdeservethestars]

Johnny Cage x Edenian Royalty reader who gives up their title and moves to Earthrealm just to be with him?

I might continue this in a later series because I like their dynamic a lot!! So in this one the reader doesn't COMPLETELY forgive up on the crown yet....but the seeds are certainly planted

Content: gn!reader, fluff, some mentions of nsfw subjects but really not a lot, alcohol, kinda just a silly little feel good fic!

(AO3 link here!)

Earthrealm was a mystery. After spending your whole life learning the ways of Outworld and studying the intricate relations between clans and kingdoms, the other plane was unknown to you in a way that you could only describe as strange. But that was okay. You liked strange. Maybe that’s what drew you to Johnny. 

You had only been to Earthrealm briefly before in the days of Shinnok’s terror, and by proxy had met Johnny during that time. Almost immediately, he annoyed you. It seemed to be a common phenomenon. He was brash, rude, vain, and unapologetic about all of it–and all of that bothered you to no end. But he was strong, too, and surprisingly resilient. Even more surprising, he had saved your life on multiple occasions. Each time he pushed you out of the way of some projectile, or ran out into a battle to get ahead of you, or even just checked up on your wounds after a particularly bad fight (which, you noticed, he never did to anyone else), you started to see other things about him beyond his Hollywood-boy persona. Above all, he seemed to have a particular fascination with you. 

It made you sick to your stomach. Even more than that, it made you blush, which in turn only made you feel sicker. 

After everyone had returned home, bruised but victorious, you found your thoughts turning back to Johnny more often than you’d like to admit. You knew your place was here. You felt like you belonged in Edenia, and in Outworld as a whole. Your whole life so far had been spent to one day take the crown and become ruler of the kingdom. Until your travels to Earthrealm, you had never wanted anything else. But now, you found yourself drifting into your mind during important meetings, doodling on scrap paper the alien types of plants you’d encountered there, and missing the feeling of seeing your reflection in the lenses of a certain pair of sunglasses.

Your state worsened. You were chastised for being so distracted all the time and your parents, worried, even referred you to one of the doctors to see if anything was wrong with you. Of course, any unwellness you felt could be easily explained…just not to the Edenians around you. 

Desperate for a cure, you made up your mind one night. Packing only a few things (you planned to return, anyways…eventually…), you snuck out in the middle of the night to one of the sacred grounds in the kingdom. This one, carved out in a cave, was home to a portal. It led to Earthrealm. You heard your father talking about the possibility of sealing it off in the future, citing that “nothing good comes from that wretched place!” You didn’t entirely agree.

After a nauseating travel across realms, trying to navigate a confusing city and an even more confusing transportation system, you wound up at the most gaudy mansion you had ever seen. You looked down at the little slip of paper in your hand–across it was scrawled Johnny’s signature, number, and address. It was something he’d given you right before you parted. You had promised to burn it the second you had time to. You had kept it in your vanity drawer ever since, though you hadn’t ever expected to use it. 

Muffled, strange music met your ears as you stood on the doorstep. Beside the door was a gold plaque that read “Johnny’s Cage.” Well, this was certainly the right place. You raised your hand to knock on the heavy wooden doors, but suddenly there was some kind of barrier. What would you even say to him? You really hadn’t thought that far ahead. You only knew you wanted to see him again. Your arm slowly lowered to your side. Maybe this was a mistake. You were better off forgetting all of this, forgetting him. But…this time, you lifted your knuckles to the door. They rapped politely. You had come this far already. May as well see it through.

The door cracked open and the strange music grew louder. Tinny drums and a horn that sounded like it was underwater filled your ears along with the anxiety welling up in your throat. And, unceremoniously, there was Johnny dressed in nothing but a silk robe and a pair of brightly colored swim trunks. The second he laid eyes on you, his air of curiosity and confusion turned to one of bemused smugness.

“Oh, tell me I’m dreaming,” he chuckled as the opened the door wide. You could see the rest of his home behind him, marble walls and floors and expensive-looking art on the walls and a massive pool right in the center of his living room. 

“No,” you replied, feeling more like you were the one in the dream. “I’m real.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, your Highness?” Johnny twirled his hand and gave a little bow. He had never really taken your royal status seriously, only ever acknowledging it in moments of tomfoolery like this. Somehow, at this moment at least, you found it endearing.

“Well…” You took a breath as you tried to decide on your angle. “You gave me your address.”

“I did!” He grinned, and then paused. “You kept it?”

“I did,” you echoed, showing him the slip of paper still clutched in your hand. “I figured it would be rude not to use it.”

“Good thing you had all those Edenian manners lessons.” He laughed at his own joke and turned with an unintentional flourish of his robe. “C’mon in. You want something to drink?”

Not wanting to embarrass yourself with guessing what little foodstuffs Outworld and Earthrealm had in common, you shook your head. “No. Thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” Johnny made a beeline for a bar set-up he had near the pool and started to mix himself something. Getting a better look at the inside of the mansion as you followed him inside, you could see that several of the art hangings were paintings of Johnny himself in various styles. In one, he was posing with a tiger. Vases and statues and weapons lined the corners of the rooms, almost as if the home was afraid to have a single square foot that wasn’t glimmering with something or other. Despite the organized clutter and the loud music that seemed to come from everywhere, you couldn’t help but notice that there only seemed to be only one inhabitant of the place.

“Do you live here alone?” you called out as you examined a series of trophies on a shelf. 

“No! I mean, well, there’s the maids and stuff. And that little guy.” You followed his pointed finger to a little disc-shaped robot trekking across the spotless floors. 

“Oh.” With a polite smile, you approached and crouched beside it. It seemed to pay you no mind, but you continued anyway. “Hello, there.” 

You could hear Johnny stifle a laugh and a snort, but when you looked over at him he was faced away from you, still working on his drink. “He, uh, he doesn’t exactly talk back. But if he could I bet he’d be charmed.”

“Ah.” Trying to force a blush away from your cheeks, you stood up and watched the little thing scoot away, unbothered. 

“You like it here?” Johnny asked, coming up behind you. In a strangely shaped glass was a drink so colorful it looked like it might hurt to swallow, but it seemed to refresh him nonetheless. 

“It’s, uh…it’s very ‘you,’” you smiled a little, motioning to the tiger painting. Johnny laughed. 

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites! Took forever to get that tiger to sit still. Fuckin’ sweet, though.” You turned to get a better look at it again, and when you looked back Johnny had inched closer to you. “So, tell me: what are you really doing here?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. That familiar irritation you often felt with him was slowly making its way back. You didn’t really mind.

“It’s just that I don’t exactly believe that you hopped dimensions on a whim.” A beat as he sipped. “Like, I know I’m irresistible, but come on.”

“Well, that’s sort of what happened,” you laughed softly. “I don’t have a big reason. I just…wanted to see you again.”

“Ohhh.” Johnny flashed you a grin. “Got the Cagester on the brain, huh? A pretty serious infection, I know.”

“You have a very…uh, memorable presence,” you decided on.

“Well, I can’t promise a cure, but I’m here to provide in any way your little royal ass wants,” he murmured, leaning in close to you. That blush you thought you’d taken care of came back with a vengeance. 

“What?” was all you could muster.

“Anywhere you want,” he was grinning. “Could give you a tour of the bedroom. The couch over there is pretty comfy. Or, we could get a little freaky and head into the pool if you’re into that…”

“Johnny,” you laughed nervously. “No, I…I didn’t come here for that.”

“Oh. Really?” He frowned into his drink and then looked up at you again, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I came because I missed you. Not your body, just you.” 

“Oh,” he said again. He only seemed more confused. “Huh. That’s…that’s a new one.”

“Is that so hard to believe?” You cocked your head.

“It’s just that, uh, y’know. People don’t usually come over just to hang out or talk or whatever. They don’t usually…stay afterwards.”

“Would you like that?” you asked, guiding his cheek so he was looking at you.

“Yeah,” he breathed with a nod. His eyes, usually hidden by whatever shades he had chosen for that day, suddenly looked so full of longing. For the first time, you understood just how lonely this man was. 

“Okay,” was all you said. You pulled him into a hug. His robe was soft, and so was his skin. At first, Johnny remained frozen. He didn’t seem to know how to react to such a genuine gesture. But he hugged you back, letting out a sigh that rivaled one of Atlas.

“I really, really needed this,” he muttered, chuckling tiredly.

“I can tell.”

“Eugh. Guess I don’t deserve all those Oscar’s, then.”

You didn’t know what in the world he was talking about, but before you could ask, he was already talking again. 

“Y’know, I…I thought you hated me.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “Not at all.”

“At all?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Well…” You huffed, smiling in spite of yourself. “You can be irritating. And loud. And arrogant.”

“But…?” He pursed his lips, waiting for you to go on.

“I don’t know,” was all you could think to say. 

“Not exactly the confidence-booster I was looking for.”

“You have enough confidence,” you teased. 

“It is one of my strong suits.” He grinned and downed a little more of his drink. “I guess it should be telling enough that you trekked all the way out here just to see me. You must like something about me.”

“I like plenty about you. It’s just hard to name.” You tilted your head as you watched him. He looked so pretty in the dim lighting of his lavish, yet warm home. Then again, he usually did. 

“We’ve got plenty of time to rectify that,” he smirked, his voice dropping down to a sultry hum. “Unless you were planning on making this trip a short one. But…”

You followed his gaze to your bag, still slung over your shoulder.

“I sort of assumed you’d let me stay.” You paused and corrected yourself. “That you’d want me to stay.”

“Forever?” He seemed a little too excited about the prospect, if a little caught off-guard.

“No,” you laughed at his likeness to a puppy. “Just for a little. I still have responsibilities, you know.”

“Right, right. The whole heir to the throne thing.” Johnny seemed utterly bored by the position. “That’s a shame. I know some of the guest rooms could use some love.”

“I just wanted to visit. See where this goes,” you said carefully, unsure exactly what ‘this’ even meant. Johnny, however, didn’t seem to care. He hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you a little closer. The look in his eyes that usually came off as cockiness now seemed to give way to a genuine enthrallment with you. It gave you flutters in your stomach. You didn’t hate the feeling.

“I’m down for that,” he murmured. A large hand caressed your cheek. “Y’know, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, my master bedroom is the loneliest one of all. And its owner wouldn’t mind a companion.”

“Someone to bed-warm?” you chuckled. Johnny’s eyebrows shot straight up.

“I thought you didn’t want to–I mean, listen I would love that, but I was just talking about, y’know, uh…sharing a bed tonight.” 

You frowned, searching his face for any sign of what the confusion was. “I was, too. You know what bed-warming is, right?”

“I know what a bed-warmer is!” Suddenly, realization came across his eyes in a wave. “Oh. Oh. Is this–this is some weird Edenian culture shock thing for me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe?” You shrugged as the thought crossed your mind. “For us, bed-warming is like…it’s hugging. Spending the night curled up to one another. Especially on cold nights. Y’know, because another body makes the bed warm.”

Johnny looked like he’d been slapped. “Yes! Yeah. Okay. That…that makes sense. Uh, that would be really nice. I’d like that.”

“What does bed-warming mean in Earthrealm?” you questioned as he turned to the bar again to clean up his glass. 

“Uh…” Johnny’s cheeks went pink. For once, he didn’t seem to want to delve into what you assumed had to be some sort of innuendo. “Y’know what? Forget it. You look tired. You came a long way, I bet. Let’s just go up to bed. I’ll show you my room! It’s really cool in there, I’ve got this statue that…”

As he started up the stairs, rambling half-nervously and half-excitedly, you couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto your face. For the first time that night, you felt completely secure in your decision to escape from home for a bit.

[demiesop]

Hello! I loved your Sorn even before I started drawing again. You are actually one of the people who inspired me to start again!

Lux never lived among Drow - And never in the Underdark until post-game…. But I think she would still hug Sorn for what he had to go through Q_Q Just because she's a drow woman and wants to say sorry.

Hello!!! I apologize for the late response, and thank you so much for this message!!!!

This is so sweet!!!! AAAhh Thank you so much!!!! I'm very honored!!!!!!!!😭🙏🙇 I will forever treasure this!!!! And I'm happy to hear you're starting again!!!! I hope you keep finding inspiration and have fun🫂

Lux darling ;; that's very kind of her!!! I think Sorn would be a little confused about why Lux would want to say sorry to him and would hesitate to hug back at first... (I hope you don't mind I sketched a reply?? and I hope I didn't butcher her...? @@;;)

[good--merits-accumulated]

do you take requests🧍‍♀️

LMAO I don't know if I would write full versions of these, but I can do some short snippets of each!

I. writer! Todd and vampire! Neil neighbours

Nicolas bared his teeth – and they were not just flashing white as Andrea had seen, but long and pointed, and curved like the canines of wolves. And they were no longer white, but slick and dark with blood. Of course. What a fool he had been. Nicolas moved closer and put one hand on Andrea’s throat, one cold relentless hand, so that they could both feel his pulse jumping between them. Behind him, pinned to the metal wall, Clara’s stake lay clenched in his hand. 

“No, no, no,” said Neil cheerily across the space between their balconies, “you’ve forgotten that Andrea wears that necklace.”

If it had been six months ago, Todd would have – and had – turned red, snatched his laptop off the flimsy table, and scuttled away into the sanctity of his own apartment, imposing a state of self-exile from the balcony for several more weeks. Fortunately it was not. He twisted around in the chair, shot a half-despairing glance at Neil’s grinning face, and asked, “Have you never heard of privacy once in your entire life?”

“I have many times heard of l’intimité,” said Neil, grinning wider, “and of einkalíf, and even yǐnsī. Privacy, however. That’s a new one. Pri-var-see. Is that how you say it?” 

He was incorrigible. Todd had discovered quite early on in their friendship that Neil had had some huge measure of life experiences which allowed him to come up with a rebuttal to every situation, and even earlier on that allowing him to run his mouth in French was a dangerous thing to do to himself. He was best humoured. “You’re in a boasting mood,” he said, pulling the laptop towards him. “I’ll bite. What’s wrong with his necklace?” 

“You’re the one writing with your screen brightness all the way up on an open balcony,” said Neil mildly, but acquiesced when Todd shot him a threatening look. “Sorry. Lips sewn. Anyway – whatever gory hand-to-hand combat scene you’re working on there can’t go if he’s got the necklace on.”

“Well, why not?”

“It’s a fish,” said Neil, with some measure of surprise. 

Todd fixed him with a look. “Neil, Andrea is a marine biologist.”

“A marine biologist wearing an ancient symbol of Christ around his neck,” said Neil. “Nicolas – he’s the vampire, yes? – he wouldn’t be very partial to that, I imagine.”

“A fish?” said Todd, surprised. “Well, it's not exactly a cross.”

“Hurts just as bad,” said Neil, making a face. “I mean, I would reckon. You know the ichthys actually predates the cross by two centuries? Bit more power to it, wouldn’t there be?”

He squinted and turned around fully. In the faint light spilling from his flat – the light from his flat was always faint – Neil looked loose-limbed and relaxed, draped over his balcony with his customary easy smile on his face, and his perpetual air of someone who knew more than he was letting on. Infuriatingly, the air was alluring at the best of times. But there was no hint of a lie or a joke on his face. “How on earth do you know that?”

“I’ve got time,” said Neil, “I read.” Then, with a shrug affecting casualness, “Could come over to yours and explain it more to you, if you want.”

“Well,” said Todd, and then, “well.” It had been six months they had known each other. He supposed that was enough time. But it had not happened before. For a moment a terrible feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him – something prickled over the back of his head like a hood, and a cloud crossed the moon, so that for half a second all was plunged into darkness. He shuddered. But then the clouds cleared and a ray of light struck Neil’s face, and illuminated it for him; he looked a little bit sheepish and a little bit pale, with nervousness perhaps. His hands twisted, one after the other, on the railing of the balcony. He was looking determinedly down. “I suppose it’d be helpful,” he said, and Neil looked up with a smile, suddenly blinding. 

“Really?” he said. 

“Well, don’t make me recant the offer.”

“Of course. Invite me in?”

He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door, standing up. “No,” said Neil, in a voice that was soft but carried nevertheless, and filled with laughter. “I’d like to hear you say it.” He was full of odd little idiosyncrasies like that, and despite himself, they were all endearing.

“You – are – ridiculous,” he said, punctuating each word with a movement; standing up, shutting the laptop, tucking the chair in behind him. “Are you recording that, or something? Come on over to the door. Of course you can come in.” He left Neil’s smile and the laptop behind him and slipped back into his flat, to stack the cushions back onto the sofa and check his hair in the mirror. 

It did not occur to him until much later the point that should have been obvious from the start – that their balconies were much too far apart to see well, and that his screen brightness, despite Neil’s insistence, had not been turned up all that much at all. But by that point, he could no longer quite bring himself to care.

II. vampires! Todd and Neil forced to plan museum heists

Languages tended to blend into one another these days; they evolved so much over these many hundreds of years that dialects, once sisters, became distant cousins, and then ceased being on speaking terms altogether. It was awfully difficult to keep up, at least without looking like a fool or a grandfather. Despite that, some languages had, throughout the years, impressed themselves onto certain parts of Todd’s moods. Corsican when he was feeling playful, Old Norse when he had just woken up or was particularly vulnerable – English for almost everything else, except in those rare cases where he felt something unimaginably distressing had happened, or that some unforeseen calamity was tearing at the bounds of his reality, demanding to be given voice and a few more vowels. In those cases it was invariably French.

“Merde,” he said, staring in dismay at the display case, “oh, merde.” 

“Fill de puta,” agreed Neil gloomily. 

Staring back at him was five sheets of stained paper, covered densely from margin to margin in a scribbling hand he knew very well, seeing as it was attached to his wrist. They had been arranged with the utmost care on a transparent support, and although he had not read the contents of the label next to it, he could, very clearly, see its proud, bolded title: The Met Museum presents – “His sweet mouth”: Love Letters Through Time.

“Fill de puta,” Neil repeated. This time with a touch more horror. 

“That must have been one of your letters,” said Todd faintly. 

“The first time I used the phrase,” he rejoined, “le Roi Soleil was already dead.” He gestured at the line before them that read 15th century, exact date unknown. “That was you. Remember?” 

He remembered, unfortunately, in excruciating detail. That had been a particularly thrilling night – a young man, one of Borso’s hanger-ons – a moonlit chase through the Castello Estense – him and Neil had been younger then, and had spilled more blood than was strictly necessary in the process. But it had been wonderfully romantic, and shortly afterwards, when Neil had gone off to Venice to do something with alum and Todd had remained in Ferrara, he had sat at his desk and remembered the moment; their hands and mouths meeting in that dim corridor of the Castello, the soft chimes of their laughter, the taste of the courtier’s sweet blood lingering still on his tongue. Enamoured, and in a mood much more befitting to a youth, he had written the letter and sent it off with a kiss. 

It had been well received at the time; Neil had come back from Ferrara early and they had gone off for a third honeymoon in Milan, and stayed until the whole business with Galeazzo Maria had forced a quick escape. When asked where the letter had gone Neil had only assured him that he had kept it, with the kind of dashing prince’s bow he had favoured at the time. Looking at him now, both of them were remembering it. 

He looked a little closer, just making out a particular line of Italian which had not been fit for public company in 1469 and was certainly not more so now, under hundreds of thousands of visitors’ eyes. “You said – ”

“I may,” said Neil, a little shamefacedly, “have lost it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and added ruefully, “1844.”

He put a hand over his eyes. “The Oregon Trail?”

“It was quite windy.”

He pointed accusingly at the letter, and Neil winced. “Not windy enough to destroy the damn thing.”

“Well, it could be worse.”

“Worse!” One or two people looked over; he pulled Neil with him into the corner of the room, away from the damning glass display cases. “Neil, not only has our property been stolen – ”

“Lost.”

“Yes, because you lost it. Not only that, but now thousands of people are looking at it under this – damn – ” Lost for words, he pointed at the sign above them as they had walked into this particular exhibition room, reading, quite damningly, Eroticism and Sensuality, 1300-1550. He took one deep breath and compressed all the forcefulness and anger into a single, low, “Merde!”

“It was quite a good letter,” Neil offered. “I was flattered. Particularly the passage about my – ”

“There’s nothing for it,” Todd decided, firmly cutting him off. “Does Charlie still have all of his equipment from the ‘60s?”

“Good God,” said Neil smilingly. The good thing about having known each other for over a thousand years was that, at this point, they could have been the same person; he had not surprised Neil in quite some time with his actions. “You don’t mean to break into the Met?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Neil blinked at him slowly, and pulled him a little closer, so that they were pressed close enough together to be mistaken for young lovers. A middle-aged woman pushing a stroller shot them a smile as she walked by, and Todd smiled back, close-lipped. “I certainly haven’t been arrested in quite some time,” Neil mused.

“And you can’t be hung for it any more,” Todd pointed out, putting his head on his shoulder. “The stakes are exceedingly low. Neil, I really do want that letter back.”

When he looked up at him again he was smiling; the wide flashing smile which exposed all his teeth and the fangs jutting sharp onto his bottom lip. The light in his eyes had long since died but in the reflected glow of the spotlights they looked almost alive again, and dancing with mischief. “Well, if you wish it,” he said. “Then I can’t say no.” 

Notes:

I: languages Neil uses in succession: French, then Icelandic, then Chinese. Take all the stuff about the icthys with large grains of salt - I did like 3 seconds of research for this and it was all on Wikipedia! Also I do think Andrea wears specifically the icthys, and not just any old fish.

II: Todd is of course using French, but Neil uses Catalan. Maybe I've been reading too much Aubrey-Maturin. The Borso mentioned is Borso d'Este - highly recommend reading more about him if you like Quattrocento things. Similarly Galeazzo Maria is of course the real Sforza who was assassinated in 1476!

[frosty-tian]

ok, now that bean quickshadow is done. where is squish bean blurrsy, salvage and hightide. please. I need em.

Not pictured:

Cody and Charlie in the Peter Griffin Death pose, the others are screaming and the kitchen’s on fire.

Blurr is an almost uncontrollable bean of wild energy (as if on a constant sugar rush). Salvage and Hightide are way calmer in return, Salvage collects little nick-knacks he finds and tries to make something crude out of them, while Hightide is usually really quiet until he’s placed in the bath tub (or any larger body of water).

[dailysmilingkokichiouma]

:D

[tresjoline]

Don't know if you've ever come across my story on tumblr but I'm someone who has seen Magda and Pernille twice in my life and fainted both times! I really admire the fact that you can take such beautiful pictures of them and not get dizzy

❤️❤️❤️

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

So Dee, do you have any ideas about the reason behind Arthur and Eames totems?

why now.. I have many ideas :D

is it because Nolan (not so) secretly shipped these two mfers and decided to give them matching totems?

is it because, as jgl once said, eames was a lil shit who copied arthur (indirectly implying imitation is the best form of flattery with a serious case of “I wanna be like him/I want him”, cause we all know jgl knows that we know that he knows) ?

is it because arthur is still unable to forget how many many moons ago, he was wasting his army cut-off away, before he was peeled off the streets by the cobbs and eames wants to keep the memories of tagging along with his mother to work and collecting fallen poker chips?

or is it because they were gifts to each other, a chip to specify and a dice to turn up only the real face out of many, unknowingly making each other their respective tethers to reality?

or is it because, they had different totems (a wrist watch for arthur and a fidget spanner for eames), but after the job which made them realise how stupid they were been, they got these matching totems to remind each other how they can’t gamble their life anymore, as it now belongs to someone else?

or is it because the wedding rings were too damn expensive?