#also this is fiction it is not real and I don’t wanna hear anything from people like

[kidvoodoo]

Jeest Mafia AU, snippet under the cut 💚💙

Joost tried not to make eye contact with anyone at the airport, though the stares he received at his battered face were inevitable. How many tall, blond, bandaged, bruised and bloody men were in a hurried rush to the terminal? Odds say: not many.

‘Not that I should be thinking about odds right now’ chided his conscience, ‘that’s how I got into this mess in the first place…’

His pace didn’t falter despite the looks from the other passengers lining up in their respective lines. All of them with bags and luggage alike underarm or trailing behind them, his own, suspiciously absent.

No time to pack, clothes on his back, phone, wallet and a little vial of two small white pills. Security checkpoint nearly put an end to those, but a desperate, puppy-eyed look and his disheveled state made the officer roll her eyes and wave him through, for all she knew, or anyone knew, it was aspirin.

‘Fix more than a headache’ his inner thoughts sneered, ‘steady on Joost, for emergencies only’.

He kept his eyes on the gate numbers, briefly glancing at the destinations. Cabo, Shanghai, Johannesburg, each a far flung place he could have potentially laid low in for months, relax on some resort beach or in a high class penthouse…

But that’s not where he’s headed.

He spies the glowing gate number, the destination? Helsinki, Finland. He got the ticket the same day he got the phone call telling him to leave as fast as possible, his usually calm and monotone source had an edge of panic to their voice, Joost trashed the burner after that and shredded the last of his books and burned them. He left his apartment as the ashes were still smoldering.

Finland eh? The only clue of what was happening next was the note in the ticket envelope, hurried scrawling in broken Dutch gave him simple instructions:

Taxi to the airport, pay in cash. Get on the plane. Make sure you are in the camera view the whole time, locate the Air Marshal and watch him. Once you are off the plane, head to the pick up zone in the parking lot and look for the black limo. Tap on the driver’s side window and give the password.

“Here for Tommy’s boy” he mutters under his breath. The magic words that’ll guarantee his safety and freedom, or will land him a bullet between the brows…

Better than the alternative.

He’s on time for the early boarding and hands the Steward his ticket, eyeing the Air Marshal at the doors to the plane’s walkway. He’s given a smile and some well wishes for his flight and finally, for the first time in several days, he feels a little sliver of calm wash over him.

‘Can’t cut me up on the plane you fuckers’

He finds his seat, window view and close to the front of the plane and plops down, the ache in his joints and back starting to flare up since the adrenaline begins to wear off.

Finland…he’s uncertain exactly what is waiting for him there, he regrets not grabbing a translation booklet at the terminal kiosk but there was simply no time. His new phone is IP hidden for the time being till he can get a VPN to bounce his signal, so no using Google’s underwhelming translation system…

He thinks back to a conversation he overheard at a conference last year. The big guys were all there, each of them with a meaty bodyguard in tow and a pistol or two brandished in plain sight.

He was there on happenstance, just finishing up the numbers to hand to his boss for the last fiscal year when his curiosity got the best of him.

“Baltic’s are at it again,” his boss sneers, tapping his cigar onto the floor, “think they’ll hide behind the Nordic cunts so they don’t have to play anymore”.

“Hm.” Another well dressed older man hums in response. He’s the police liaison, a former Captain who’s been working with the mob for 40 years. “Not much to be done about it Albert, the Fins have the advantage now, I hear they’ve even brought Estonia into the fold now.”

Albert snorts, getting to his feet and giving a couple other well-dressed people a farewell wave.

“Cuz of that little shit,” he grumbles, motioning his bodyguard to get a move on. “What’s his name? Kät-something? The Union fucker.”

“Käärijä,” the former Police Captain supplies, “his Union is very bold for an upstart, cutting off the trade in the Baltic’s disrupts everything. Heard he’s in talks of making a deal with the Norwegians as well. That’s the case? Say goodbye to the big money”.

Joost tried to linger as long as possible to catch the last bit of conversation, tucking himself against the wall and listening close.

“Damn idiot, Norway doesn’t play with the new players, even if the young lady is supposedly running things over there now. He’s a fucking lunatic to think the Baltic’s will stay loyal, he’ll be done by the end of the year, mark my words-“

A dinging noise jolts him awake from his daze, the Flight Attendants are doing their safety check. The doors to the plane are closed and for the first time in weeks, months even, Joost’s tense shoulders drop with exhaustion.

He is safe. For now.

<><><>

Roughly three hours later, he startles awake.

The voice over the intercom of the plane cabin announces in several languages that they have arrived at Helsinki Airport and will begin the landing process momentarily.

He spares a glance around the cabin out of paranoia, nothing out of the ordinary and no unwanted eyes in his direction.

Twenty minutes later and he’s heading out of the plane and into the airport terminal. The weather outside is gray and snowy, the sky a mass of colorless clouds and the sun choked somewhere behind. He shivers just looking at the weather, his cheap suit jacket will definitely not suffice.

He heads down the walkways and tried not to get too overwhelmed with the directions, mostly in Finnish but thankfully also in English.

He’s only a hundred feet from the parking lot when he feels eyes on his back. He tries subtly to peak behind and catch if he’s being followed.

Two men, both in dark blue suits and expensive leather shoes, each sporting a grim, intense expression. They have their hands in their pockets.

Joost picks up his pace, eyes focused on the automatic doors that swing open and shut.

He can hear them closing behind him, their shoes loud against the tiles. He starts to jog.

He doesn’t stop to apologize to the people he pushes past to get out of the door, ignoring the scowls and curses thrown his way. His heart is hammering in his chest, he has but a minute to locate the car before he’s dragged off and butchered in a dark corner…

A car horn blares loudly as he flinches and freezes, he had walked right out in front of a pair of high beams, his eyes don’t have time to adjust as he hurriedly runs around to look.

Black limousine, tinted windows with triple thick bulletproof glass and chrome trimming. The driver’s side window rolls down, a bald man with sunglasses and a mustache regards him blankly.

“P-please,” he stammers, eyes catching the two suited men finally breaching the threshold. “I-I’m being followed-“

“What is phrase?” The driver interrupts, not at all phased by the situation in the slightest.

“Th-the wha-oh yes yes, it’s uh…” he swallows takes a breath and speaks the words softly enough for the man to hear him.

“I’m here for Tommy’s boy.”

The door at the back of the limo clicks open, beckoning him inside.

He all but dives into the car and slams the door shut just as the two men make a dash towards the vehicle, only to stop dead in their tracks mere feet away.

Joost doesn’t have the time to take in his surroundings as he sees what has halted his stalkers. In the split second before the limo peels out with a loud screeching of tires, the window on the opposite side is down just enough to see the startled and blanched faces of the two men, who find themselves held in place by a man aiming a 45 caliber handgun at them.

Were it to fire at point blank range, one of the two men would have nearly had his torso blown open. More than a lethal shot, truly overkill at that point.

The car peels out of the lot and before he knows it, Joost is tossed back into he seat as the limo put some speedy distance between him and the danger.

A loud curse and sound of a window being rolled up. Joost finally levels his eyes behind his cracked glasses to see his savior.

Sitting across from him now with the gun held loosely in his grip is a dark haired man with pale skin. He sports a blunted bowl cut and his facial hair is trimmed and tidy. He wears a long black coat with a layered polo necked jumper and a couple silver chains around his neck. The jewelry matches his pierced ears and nose rings, the whole of his attire is expensive and modern looking.

Joost is drawn into the man’s piercing eyes, blue like his own but with an edge of silver steel, made more intimidating and entrancing by the heavy makeup that lines them.

The man is staring at him, Joost’s palms immediately start to sweat.

“I uh,”

“You are the Dutchman we take in?” The man interrupts, his voice has an hint of annoyance, Joost nods politely and holds out his hand to shake.

“Yes, I mean to say, thank you,” he tries to muster a charming smile but finds himself pinned under the man’s gaze like a deer being watched through a hunter’s scope.

“I’m sure this is a bit of trouble for you-“

“Trouble? I say it is bigger trouble for you and not me. You need a drink yes? I have gin and brandy here.” The man all but ignores whatever Joost was trying to say and busies himself with pouring a drink from a side bar containing glasses and some bottles. “Brandy since the gin is warm, I not have a lot of time to get it ready.”

Joost wants to say something, anything to this stranger but finds himself at an utter loss for words. The man looks at him expectantly, pushing the glass of amber liquor into his hands.

“There you drink that, feel better afterwards. You say you looking for Tommy’s boy? That is what he tell you to say? He think he is funny man, he gonna have to explain to me…” the man trails off, eyes now scanning and taking in Joost’s disheveled appearance. “You have injury? I have some bandage here and some other things uh,” the man stops and searches for a word. “you know, doctor supplies?”

“First aid kit?” Joost supplies.

“Ah yes yes! That is it,” the man grins and digs around a bit before huffing in annoyance and opening the little sliding window to the driver’s compartment. He asks for something in Finnish and the bald man replies. Information gathered, he opens a compartment and fishes out a nondescript black case.

“Okei here it is. Let me see your hand, you have blood on your palm.” He does? Joost was in such a mad dash to get away from the goons who had jumped him back in the Netherlands he didn’t have time to take stock of his injuries. He holds out his hand timidly and the man yanks it none too gently to inspect.

“No stitches I think,” he hums, grabbing supplies to clean and patch the gash on Joost’s palm.

The man’s grip is firm and steady, there is warm radiating from beneath the leather gloves he wears.

“You are Mr. Klein eh?” The man says absentmindedly as he cleans the wound. “I hear you screw your boss out two million euros, not bad.” The man smirks, eyes flickering up to Joost’s face. “I like someone who disrupts the status quo. When Tommy say you in trouble, I had to do something about it. Would be a waste for you ending up in concrete.”

Joost cringes a little at the mention of his dilemma, taking a long gulp of his drink and reveling in the burn.

“I don’t know about disruption, I just did what I thought was right is all. Didn’t think it would go this far…” he wishes he could be more proud, he did take a chunk of money from the hands of the worst men in Europe. Now, he’s a marked man, possibly forever.

The dark haired man seems to sense his discomfort and finishes dressing his hand, grabbing a gauze patch and passing it over.

“What is done is done, you think it is bad thing now, but you make a big move, and now you have a big advantage for the war that is coming.”

Joost finishes placing the gauze over the gash on his cheek, looking at the man puzzlingly.

“What war? And what advantage are you talking about?”

The man leans back against his seat and smiles, his sharp canines peak over his lips and his expression is one of amusement and vicious excitement.

“The war between the Union and the Old Men, tear down their ruined kingdom and make our own. The advantage? That’s easy,”

The man chuckles darkly.

“You have Käärijä in your corner now.”

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part four)

series masterlist & main masterlist

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I don’t have much to say other than enjoy! Please leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments or message me! I’d love to hear what you have to say <3

part four: friends for now?

Hugh let you drag him through the club by your intertwined hands. The crowd seemed to be never ending as you walked through, trying to make it to the bar. A few people stopped you along the way to congratulate you and give their praises, but the night no longer felt special. It didn’t even feel like these people were here for you. They were just strangers attending a random party. Most of them already way past tipsy and probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. When the bar was in sight, you did a quick scan of the area. In the right corner, you saw a small, tall table that had two tall stools, perfect. 

“Heyyy y/n! I’ve been looking for you!” Ashley yells over the music with a big smile on her face. You don’t miss the way she glances back at Hugh. “Where have you been?” She asks and you can hear the accusation that’s hidden behind her words. Hugh squeezes your hand and it makes you realize just how close he is to you, the front of his body a whisper away from touching the back of yours. “I’ve been making the rounds. I was looking for you but kept getting stopped along the way.” You’re yelling back at her, trying to sound alive and bubbly by letting a laugh out at the end. You weren’t sure if she bought it. Ashley gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t. “We were gonna grab a drink, you wanna come?” You offer her but she shakes her head. “No, I have one over there.” She points to a group of girls sitting at a larger table that sits on the left side of the bar. “I’ll see you later okay?” She leans to give you a quick hug and she notices the point of contact between Hugh and yourself. “Don’t be stupid y/n.” She whispers in your ear and leans back from the hug with a smile. “Love you!” She’s yelling this time as she walks away. Her comment made your chest burn. You could tell that she thought something more was happening between Hugh and yourself but he saved you. He helped you get away from Pedro and she had no right to be accusatory. 

This night kept getting worse, the only thing keeping you from going home and leaving your own party was the warmth of Hugh’s hand. The warmth suddenly vanished, Hugh letting go of your hand for the first time since he helped you off of the couch in the backroom. He pulled back one of the stools for you and offered his arm to hold as you climbed up to sit. Your foot faltered slightly, causing your leg to buckle, but Hugh was quick to grab your waist to stabilize you. “Thank you.” You say again. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asks julting his thumb towards the bar behind him. 

“Oh! I'll take a pop my cherry margarita please.” You smile, voice full of excitement. Hugh lets out that rich man laugh that you haven't heard since the day you met him. 

“A WHAT?” He’s still laughing, it’s so contagious that your own laughter slips past your lips unexpectedly. 

“Pop my cherry margarita. It’s a real thing!” You explained to him that you wanted to create a drink menu that matched the album song titles. It was the one detail you really had a say in. “I thought they were handing out pamphlets at the door that explained that. Did you not get one?” Hugh’s eyebrows furrowed but they relax just as fast as he pulled a folded up pamphlet from his back pocket. You gasp dramatically. 

“You didn’t read it?” Your voice held a joking tone but you couldn’t help but feel a ping of hurt within your chest at the thought of him not taking the time to at least skim over the silly little paper. 

“I was looking for you when I first got here.” He admits shyly, an emotion you didn’t know Hugh was capable of having. He was always so confident and loud, never shy. It was cute. 

“Well in that case, you are forgiven.” His words made your heart swell. 

“I’ll be right back.” He gives your shoulder a light squeeze and walks over to the bar. 

Taking a look around the room, you’re glad that people are enjoying themselves. Your album only has three more songs to play before you’d have to go back on stage to give your thanks again. The club was booked all night, meaning that everyone was welcome to stay until it closes at two am. You didn’t plan to stay that late and after the events of the night, you weren’t sure if you’d stay any longer than your second ‘speech’. You glance back over to Hugh. He’s leaning on the counter, making conversation with the bartender. He was so charismatic, easily falling into conversation with anyone he met. You were certain that there wasn’t a person in the world that disliked him, he was the definition of likable. The reality of the situation was starting to settle more clearly now that your mind wasn’t clouded by the brief altercation with Pedro. Hugh hadn’t left your side since the moment he found you, he helped you collect yourself, and now he was ordering you a drink. You weren’t sure what this meant for him- you knew exactly what it meant for you. All of his acts of kindness were starting to overfill the file in your head labeled ‘big fat crush on Hugh Jackman’. 

“Here you are, one pop my cherry margarita.” He slides the glass in front of you and sits in the stool across from you. The drink is a bright red with a silver shimmer throughout. Two cherries sat on the top of the ice with a lime hugging the sugar lined rim. You took a sip, the tequila a little too strong for your liking, but the sweetness of the cherry and the slight hint of lime was refreshing.  “Mhmm that’s good. What'd you get?” You ask while squinting at his drink. “Slut me out martini?” He says unsure. You laugh. “Hm. Slut me out is probably my favorite song off the album, a good ‘ol dirty martini fits the vibe of the song.” He takes a sip and nods. “Hey.” You say to catch his attention again. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to actually listen to the album. You’re probably disappointed, given you’re such a big fan and all.” You’re mostly joking, the only sincerity being behind the fact he didn’t get to do what he came here to do. What you invited him here for. “Stop apologizing sweetheart.” He grunts out giving you a pointed look. 

“I did hear the first few songs, they were really good.” He says, taking a sip of his martini. 

“Just good?” You question. It looks like he thinks for a moment before speaking. 

“They’re surprising.” He says slowly. “How so?” You’re quick to respond. 

“Just… didn’t expect it. It’s different from your other stuff, it’s seductive.” 

“Hm..are you seduced?” His eyes lock onto yours. Your tongue darts out to pull the straw that sits in your glass to your lips. You can see his eyes move down towards your lips as you suck on the straw. When his eyes match yours again, he’s repositioning himself on the stool and lets out a low chuckle. “You’re something else y/n.” He shakes his head and you hum in satisfaction. 

You glance over to the dancing crowd, eyes moving over the groups of people. You meet Stacy’s eyes and you can hear the buzz of the last song fill your ears. She started making her way towards you, disappearing every few seconds as she weaved through people. “Shit.” You mumble as you try to think of ways to get out of getting on stage and thanking everyone again. “What’s wrong?” Hugh’s voice was filled with concern, the same tone he had used earlier in the night. “Stacy..my uh.. my assistant, I guess, is making her way over here right now and I like really, really don’t wanna go up on that stage again.” You frown. You were being stubborn, you knew that. The smart side of your brain tried to tell you that it wasn’t professional to just leave your own event. 

“C’mon.” Hugh is standing up quickly, offering his hand once again. “Huh?” You asked him, confusion written all over your face. “I’m getting you out of here. Let’s go.” You look around the room one last time. Stacy is about ten feet away, stress present on her face. “Okay.” You grab his hand and he helps you down, his other hand instinctively meeting your waist. “Y/n! I needed you on the stage like three minutes ago!” Stacy yells across the lowering distance. Hugh tugs your hand and you follow. You’re trying your best to keep up with his long legs as he walks swiftly through everyone. He pushes open the door and flashing lights blind the both of you. Covering your face, you tried to block the paparazzi’s cameras, completely trusting Hugh to guide you through this all. Once you reach the small parking lot that sits on the left side of the building, Hugh is opening the passenger door for you and helps you in. He hurries over to the drivers side and drives off as fast as he can, escaping the leeches that are trying to take as many pictures as possible. “Oh my god, you’re literally a life saver.” You say, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Pulling out your phone from the small purse that’s been draped on your shoulder most of the night, you sent a quick text to Stacy, responding to the endless texts and calls you’ve received from her in the past five minutes. 

You: I’m sorry Stacypoo. I’ll explain later. Love you <33

You knew work Stacy would be mad at you for some time but once you explained everything, friend Stacy would understand. “Do you want me to take you home?” Hugh asks. “Yes please. I’m pooped.” You huff out and he chuckles. You connect your phone to the car bluetooth and set your address on the GPS. The silence in the car calmed your body down at a rapid rate. Exhaustion took over your body and you could feel the ache in your feet from the heels. You were only at the party for an hour, yet it felt like you had been there all night. Looking at the time, the clock read 11:30pm. Hugh was quiet and you were afraid you might have caused too much trouble for him. That he wouldn’t want to be around you again after this. “Thank you Hugh. Really, you totally made this night so much better.” Your head is leaning against the headrest and you roll it slightly to look over at him. The faint light coming from the street lights shined on his face dimly. He was so handsome. You wanted to tell him. “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy your company.” He glances in your direction with a smile. The silence fills the space again.

 “Did you purposely wear a gray shirt to match my outfit?” You asked curiously. You meant to ask earlier but it slipped your mind. “What?” He’s smiling. “You heard me. Did you?” Your tone was teasing. “Maybe.” 

“Yes or no Hugh Jackman.” His name rolled off your tongue in a joking matter. You could've sworn you could see a slight blush but it was too dark in the car to tell. “Is this it?” He asks, pointing to your house. “Yea that’s me.” 

He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park, cutting the engine. Hugh opens his car door to get out. “Oh! You don’t have to get out, it’s okay.” He ignores you, walking over to your side of the car anyways, closing the door once you’re out. You awkwardly walk up to your front door and search your purse for your keys. When you find them, you turn around to face Hugh. “Thank you for driving me home Hugh.” “No problem sweetheart.” He smiles warmly and you take a moment to take it in. Your eyes rake across every wrinkle in his face, showing the life he’s lived. His smile lines set deep into his cheeks and you can’t help but think how perfectly they suit him. His facial hair was just past a stubble but not quite filled out into his full beard yet. “I should get inside, don’t wanna keep you out any later.” Your voice is soft and you want to invite him in but you couldn’t. “Okay darling.” 

This crush on Hugh was something that felt deeper after tonight. If anything were to happen with him, you wanted it to be right. No rushing. The feeling was mature. Hugh was someone you didn’t want to lose, no matter how he fit into your life. It was a little scary to think about- how much you wanted him in your life. 

“Goodnight Hugh.” 

“Goodnight y/n.” 

You turn to unlock your door and just as you're twisting the handle, Hugh wraps his large hand around your arm. He gives you a small tug, urging you to turn around. “Y/n…” He speaks softly. “Yes?” He doesn’t say anything. “Hugh, are you okay?” His hand releases your arm, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His hands are rough. You can feel a few calluses along his hand, undoubtedly from the gym.  He’s searching your eyes but you're unsure what he’s trying to find. “Can I kiss you?” 

Oh. 

“Yes.” It’s barely audible, the only confirmation that he had heard you came from his lips meeting yours. The kiss was slow, soft, like he was afraid to move too much. Hugh’s lips melted into yours perfectly, dancing together in a rhythm that felt natural. He was bent down slightly to match your height, your heels aiding him. He was the one to break the kiss, you weren’t sure if you would have ever stopped kissing him if he didn’t pull away. You wanted to ask him so many questions, get into his head. You always had this impeding urge to know everything but you wanted to live in the sweetness of the moment. Hugh’s hands dropped from your cheeks and a small smile rested on his face. “Goodnight gorgeous.” He kisses the top of your head for the second time that night. “Goodnight..” You walked inside, standing half way out of the door, waving at Hugh as he drove away. 

You: text me when you get home so I know you got home safe! p.s. ur a good kisser.  

Walking around your house, you slowly stripped from your outfit, gathering your things to start your nightly routine as you waited for Hugh’s text. You hopped into the shower and thought about the crazy events that had happened in just a few hours. The kiss was something you hadn’t expected and it was killing you to not know what it meant for your relationship with Hugh. When you were brushing your teeth, your phone lit up on the bathroom counter. 

Hugh <3: Just got home. You’re not half bad yourself lol. 

You: really though, did you try to match my outfit? 

Hugh <3: Goodnight y/n… 

You: fine. I’ll get the truth out of you one day!! 

You: goodnight hugh! <3 

When your head hits the pillow, all you can do is think about the feeling of Hugh’s lips on yours, his hands on your face. You fell asleep with a smile on your face. 

—

The constant buzzing of your phone woke you up. It’s been going off for close to an hour and you tried your best to ignore it but the vibration under your pillow was starting to give you a headache. You winced at the brightness of the screen as your eyes adjusted to the light that invaded your eyeballs too suddenly. Squinting at the name, you let out a sigh. “Oh fuck me..” 

“Hi Stacy…” You say it sweetly, hoping it would ease whatever was coming your way. “Y/n, I need you to explain why the fuck you decided to run away from me last night.” Her voice is eerily calm, you’d prefer if she was yelling at you. “Oh yea…” You clear your throat. “So you know how when we started to plan the event, Pedro and I were still very much together?” You ask and she gives a short ‘yes’. “Well, when we had the last meeting, I completely forgot about him being invited already and forgot to take him off the list.” “Y/n, can you get to the point please, the label is on my ass right now trying to clear things up.” “Sorry…he uh.. Pedro showed up last night and he was mean Stacy. He kept saying how he wanted me back and he kept trying to grab me.” Your voice falters slightly. You couldn’t understand how Pedro, who was once so sweet and loving, had turned so cruel. “I’m so sorry y/n… I didn’t know, nobody knew.” You can hear the sympathy in her voice. “It’s fine, it’s over. I tried to stay, but I really wanted to leave. I’m sorry Stacy.” “It’s fine.” She sighs.

 “Have you been on your socials yet?” 

“No…why?” 

“Look at what I sent you.” 

You put her on speaker and open the text thread between Stacy and yourself. There were at least a hundred texts from her between last night and this morning. You click on a link she had sent and when you opened it, there was a picture from last night of Hugh and yourself leaving the party hand in hand. There were articles upon articles questioning if Hugh was your ‘new older fix’. There were also pictures of Pedro leaving the party with rumors of you cheating. It was all one big mess, but every single article seemed to agree on one thing:

Y/n L/n was a slut who liked older men. 

They weren’t completely wrong, you loved being with an older man, but you weren’t a slut, or a cheater, or a gold digger, or any other names they had called you. The rumors and name calling never bothered you but it always had a negative effect on the men in your life, even if they never got the shit end of the stick. It was why Pedro broke up with you and why everyone before him never wanted to make anything official, or even be seen with you. You felt so stupid for not telling Hugh that you needed to go out the back way, that he shouldn’t be seen leaving with you. Your dating life brought nothing but a bad reputation and you didn't want Hugh’s name involved in it. You're thankful that this article was centered on dragging you down and not Hugh. 

“Shit..” You whisper. “How mad are they?” You ask, referring to your management team. 

“They’re pretty pissed off. They keep nagging about how they warned you with Pedro. They’re worried about your image.” 

“God, I wish they would get over that already. It’s literally not that big of a deal.” Your irritation grew. It had always been something you hated about the industry, that they cared so much about minor personal details. As long as you were making music, making fans happy, and making them money- why does it matter who you’re seen with. You hated how much everyone ‘cared’ about what you did. 

“I know y/n, it sucks. I’ll try to get them calmed down and prevent any unnecessary meetings. I want you to focus on whatever you need to. Don’t stress yourself out about this.” “Thank you Stacy. I really am sorry if I got you into trouble last night.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it and I’m glad you did something for yourself for once.” 

The rest of the conversation is short and ends with Stacy complaining about Mark, the guy from the meeting, was blowing up her phone. 

You needed to talk to Hugh as soon as possible. There were so many things that needed to be discussed: the paparazzi pictures, the kiss, what we are, can he handle being your controversially old boyfriend- if that’s even what he wanted. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had already seen the headlines, if his team was just as mad as yours. 

You: hi hugh! could we meet up and talk sometime today? 

Hugh <3: Of course darling. Just tell me a time and place and I'll be there. 

You: 3pm at my house? 

Hugh <3: See you then. 😀

The emoji he attached made you laugh, Hugh texted like your parents and it should make you cringe but it does the exact opposite. You sent him your address, not expecting him to remember where you live, and started to prepare for his visit. You had a few hours before the agreed upon time, allowing you to clean up around your house and get presentable. Not wanting to go overboard, you decided on a pair of black flared leggings and a dark green crew neck that had ‘New York’ across the chest. You could feel your nerves working up as the time ticked away, each minute that went by increasing your heart rate. You were sitting on the couch, when there was a knock on your door. Taking a peek through the peephole, you could see Hugh standing there. You opened the door wide and gave him a tender smile. “Hi sweetheart.” He greets you with his own warm smile. “Hi Hugh. Come in.”  You open the door wider and he slips past you, waiting for you to close the door. “You can take your shoes off here if you want, but you don't have to.” He slides them off and you lead him into the living room. You take a seat on the couch, smacking the cushion next to you with your hand, urging him to take a seat as well- he does. You don’t speak right away, trying to find the right words to say, what to talk about first. “You okay y/n?” His expression is full of worry.

“Have you seen the pictures or anything about last night?” 

“No…?” You can tell he’s confused and you don’t say anything. Instead, you open your phone to the link Stacy sent and hand it to him. His eyes are moving back and forth slowly as he reads and scrolls through it. When he's done, he hands the phone back to you and sighs. “This is what you wanted to talk about?” He asks. “Yea…and other things.” 

He sighs. “Y/n, I already told you I don’t care what other people say. I don’t think what these people are saying about us should matter.” 

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess though, Hugh. It’s not fair to you, especially when everything they’re saying are lies.” 

“That’s just the way those people make a living. It won’t matter in a week, everyone will forget and move on, so don’t worry about me baby, worry about yourself. They said some nasty things in there, don’t let that get to your head kid?” His hand rests on your thigh and scrunch up your face at the nickname. 

“Hugh, for moral reasons, you can’t call me kid when you kissed me just last night. It's weird.” Your voice switching from the previous unsure and scared to serious. He lets out a laugh and a quick sorry. His hand still rests on your thigh and you reach out to place your hand on his, fingers slightly intertwining at the awkward angle. “Why did you kiss me last night?” Your doe like eyes look up at him. “I wanted to.” His answer is too brief for your liking and you can tell he’s teasing. “Why did you want to?” You ask further. “You looked really pretty in your sparkly little outfit last night sweetheart. You always look really pretty, truthfully. There’s just something about you that draws me to you.” He confesses. “Yea?”  “Yea…It’s a little scary if i’m being honest, how drawn to you I am.” “I’m scared too, Hugh.” You admit. “I’m terrified that whatever this is or whatever it leads to is going to get taken away from me.” Your willingness to be this open shocks you, but this needs to be done right. You would put your fears behind you for him. He squeezes your hand. “What do you mean?” 

“I just feel like every time I get something good that makes me happy, it’s gone faster than I can enjoy it. I mean..with uh…with Pedro, everything was going great, I was so happy…and he just.. left. All because things got hard, because he cared too much about everything else. I was getting attacked consistently, but he couldn’t handle it. My happiness got shattered. I don’t want that to happen again, especially not with someone like you. It sounds insane, we only just met, but Hugh, I really like you.” 

“I really like you too y/n.” He smiles and leans forward. His lips are getting closer to yours and as much as you want to kiss him, you can’t, not yet. “Wait..” You put the hand that isn’t holding his hand on his chest, stopping him from moving forward. “What’s wrong baby. You don't wanna kiss me?” there's a cocky smirk on his face and it was the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. His voice was smooth and seductive. “As much as I want to shove my tongue down your throat right now, I really wanna do this right.” His eyes widen slightly at your words. “Right?” He questions. “I wanna get to know you more and take it slow. I like you too much for this to be rushed and ruined.” “Hmm. I can work with that, but just to be completely sure, you don’t want to kiss me?” The smirk is back. “God..you’re too hot for your own good.” You grab his neck and pull him into you. You kiss him with as much passion as possible, it would be the last one for a while, until time passes and these feelings are certain. His tongue slithers across your bottom lip and you pull back from the kiss. “You’re really testing your luck Jackman.” You laugh and he shrugs. 

“Is waiting okay with you? I don’t want you to feel pressured or tied to me in some way.” You’re playing with his long fingers. “That’s fine by me baby, I'll wait for you as long as I need to.” He leans back into the couch. 

“Friends for now?” You ask. 

“Friends for now.” He nods.

Thank you for reading <33

part five

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

if you want to be added/removed please leave a comment on this post! *let me know if I missed anyone or if the tag doesn't work*

[weixuldo]

Like a Drug

Toxic!Anakin x Reader

a/n: hihihi, this one is a pretty long one shot ahh sorry! its based on this ask from @hanasnx ! (Though I did change the promp a little) I just wanted to also update that It is officially finals week- so I'll be slower than i alr am SORRY!! but i have been working on the next xhapters of allow me and enigma when i get breaks!! I hope u enjoy! ALSO! Please don't stay w someone if they act the way anakin does in this fic- this is purely a scenario for fictional purposes, never let anyone do anything he does, to you.

Anakin has a very peculiar way of showing his love; well you call it love other people call it an unhealthy obsession... you finally realize how fucked up the situation is and leave- but the real question is how long can you stay away?

warnings: cursing, toxic bf ani, smex, cumplay, agressive behavior, mention of blood, fights, alluded sexual harassment, anakin is obsessive and posessive. (he's does some fucked up shit)

_____________________

“Get up” Anakin’s stern voice rang as he gripped your upper arm. 

You jumped at the unexpected contact- why was Anakin here? 

“Ani! You scared m-” you started to laugh before he tightened his grip.

“Now.” he growled. 

You looked back at your friends sitting across the table from you; their eyes were wide. Before you could say anything, Anakin started to pull you up. 

“Let go of her!” one of your friends demanded. 

He snapped his head towards her and only loosened his grip on you to stomp to the other side of the table. His tall frame towered as he glared daggers at her. 

“The fuck did you just say?” he spat.

She went pale and looked down at her lap. 

“That’s what I thought. Anyone else have any smart comments?” he huffed, before promptly pulling you out of the restaurant. 

Before you made it all the way out the door you mouthed an “its ok” to your friends before following your boyfriend outside. 

“Anakin, what the fuck?” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. 

He continued towards his sleek black camaro (he loved to drive through the city at night, music blaring and his hand on his property, your thigh). 

“Don’t fucking ignore me Anakin!” you shouted, gaining the attention of an older couple who were heading inside the restaurant. 

Your cheeks burned as you caught their stares, but honestly you were used to this shit, it wasn’t the first time you and Ani had made a scene in public. Anakin always did this- he would get pissy over some irrelevant thing and you would get into an argument. 

He stopped and turned with such anger.

“You really wanna know? You shouldnt have to fuckin’ ask why I’m upset! If you ever thought of anyone but yourself you’d see how fucked up it is of you to get dinner with those bitches who want to break us up” he screamed; his beautiful blue eyes dark with rage. 

You knew Anakin hated your friends. And you knew they hated him.

“You know they don’t like me and always try to get you to leave- Meanwhile those sluts cant keep their legs shut; they’re probably just jealous cause I’m the only guy who gets to fuck you and they have to find a new one every night!” he spat. 

Most of your friends were in stable relationships, but of course Anakin didn’t bother to remember that. 

“How am I selfish Anakin? I just wanted to grab dinner with the girls and you didn’t even come up. I told them not to bring you up after the last fight” you sighed, exhausted from Anakin's irrational moods. 

His sculpted jaw clenched and his right eye twitched. 

“It's the fact that you still even allow their company, it’s disrespectful.”

You shook your head and huffed in disbelief. 

“Anakin, you are absolutely unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable… Do you even hear yourself right now?!” you screamed. 

“And not that it should even fucking matter, but how did you even know I was with them?” 

“I have your location- you know that” he stated as if you asked if the sky was blue. 

“I know that, but how about them?”

He knew where they were because he made several alternative snapchat accounts and pretended to be someone from school who was just looking for new friends.

He spent nights pretending to be an excited freshman who was wondering where the science building was. He used remix to send your friends snaps that made it look like he was on campus or hanging out downtown with other students. And eventually he gained their trust enough for them to turn on their snap map for him so he could “make sure they were safe” if they went somewhere, since it's “dangerous for us college girls down here”. 

“Intuition.” 

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “No way, you probably chipped their phones or some psycho shit cause you’re fucking crazy Anakin!” 

“Well if you just goddamn did what I told you we wouldn’t have to have these conversations or be in these situations” he replied dryly. 

“How many fucking “rules” are there for me to follow?! Everytime I go out or do anything, you find something to nit pick! It's exhausting! I don’t even know why I’m still with you?!”

“Get in the car.” he demanded. 

“You’re insane if you think-”

His whole demeanor shifted and he sighed, “baby, please… I’m sorry, let’s talk about this”. 

“No, Anakin- i’m done with your bullshit” you said, heading back towards the building. 

He felt his scarred eye twitch, but he needed to subdue his temper (just until he could take it out on your pretty pussy).

See, Anakin Skywalker was a master manipulator. He knew that no matter how much you fought or how insane he acted- you would always come back.

This was clockwork for him. You’d fight, he’d act vulnerable, you would fuck, and then you’d be good for a while. A perfect system. Never failed. 

He called your name with a desperate plea- he had no problem acting needy if it got him to where he needed to be, plus this gave you the illusion of having power in this familiar situation. 

You hesitantly turned around to meets his gaze; his beautiful blue eyes glassy with his brilliant manipulation. 

“Baby, I’m sorry- I just worry about you..” he spoke softly as you subconsciously came closer. 

Soon his strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his scent flooded your senses. 

“You know I can't control my feelings sometimes- I just love you too much- I can’t lose you too…” he whispered into your hair. 

You knew exactly what he was referring to with the “too”- his mother. He was very close with her, growing up she was all he had. A few years back she passed away and it took a big toll on your lover.

You never wanted to admit it, but you knew he used that to guilt trip you into staying or to get you to feel bad for him. 

You hated him. 

But you couldn’t stop…

You held him tighter and grabbed his shirt fabric, “I know Ani… I know”.

You were now crying too- You knew this was unhealthy- toxic even; but you just couldn’t quit him. 

You felt his strong arms lift you up and he carried you towards his camaro; you knew what came next… He’d comfort you, fuck you, then you would act as if no argument ever happened.

A cycle you had gotten all too familiar with. 

__________________________________

“F-fuck” Anakin stuttered as he slammed his cock into you; intensive sounds of your bodies colliding, ricochet off the bedroom walls. 

“You feel s-so good Baby- doin’ so good for me” he praised as he thrusted in and out of your plush walls. You were lying on your back as he held one of your legs over his shoulder so he could hit even deeper. 

The glorious feeling of his calloused hands along your smooth stomach made you shiver. When you first started dating Anakin he told you that he would please you so well that no other men would be able to compare.

he was right…

No man could navigate your body the way he does, read your tells like he could, no man could make you cum as well as Anakin could.

He slowed his hips for a moment making you whine at the lack of movement from his thick cock. 

“Look at me baby”. 

You blinked your doe eyes open, tears falling from the corners. He observed your features before his eyes softened. 

“My girl, my pretty girl… always so lovely” she smiled before tenderly kissing you. 

“I love you more than anything” he whispered against your plump lips. 

This.

Moments like this were why you stayed: he could be kind- he was sweet- he did care. 

You were about to reciprocate his statement but were cut off by his hand tightly gripping around your throat as he continued snapping his hips into yours.

You squealed with each powerful thrust- it was ok, you’d tell him later. 

His swollen member was blushing red and as hard as could be. He absolutely adored having you below him, taking his dick like a champ- he remembered how proud he was when you were finally able to take all of him. 

A particularly hefty thrust sent his neurons firing and he knew he was almost at his end. He sloppily bucked his hips into your pelvis as his breathing became more erratic. 

“I’m gonna cum- w-where do you want it sweet girl?” he half stuttered, half moaned.

You patted your chest and gave Anakin a knowing look. 

With that he was gone, his brows knitted together in ecstasy and his hips lurched forward. A string of obscenities left his mouth as he quickly slid his dick out of you to aim for your chest. 

Barely one pump in, his warm seed coated your chest. You watched as his abs and thighs contracted with each wave of pleasure. Some of his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he had a sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were flushed. 

What a beautiful sight. 

_________________________________________

Anakin’s fingers tucked some wild strands of hair behind your ear as you slept peacefully beside him.

Last night cut it a little closer than he normally would have, but it all worked out because here you were, still with him- fast asleep in his bed. 

He grabbed your phone and began to go through your messages (an unhealthy habit he picked up a few months back), his fingers immediately moved to the new notifications from your friends.

He opened the pinned group chat and read the messages from last night. 

Where r u? Where’d he take u?

Are you alright?

WTF was that?!

Anakin rolled his eyes; your friends were always so dramatic. But he smiled when he saw your response. 

“Guys i'm good, ani took me home and we talked things out- he’s just been really stressed out lately, it's nothing to worry about!”

You were his good girl and he’d spoil you today for your loyalty. 

He continued to scroll passively until he got to the newer unread messages. 

y/n, can we all please talk when you get back- we’re worried about you

Yea, anakin doesn’t seem like he has the best intentions

We hate to see you in this situation

Babe, he’s toxic- u need to dump him

“...u need to dump him”

Anakin almost threw the phone across the room- no way these bitches were telling you to dump him?!

He was the only one who took care of you, he was the only one who knew what was best for you- who did these girls think they were?!

Before he could stop himself he took out his own phone and copied all of their numbers down so he could send several nasty message to the girls basically telling them to back the fuck off and being unnecessarily hateful.

After he blocked their numbers, he decided it was time for a shower, so he left you with a kiss and headed to the bathroom. 

The emptiness of the bed made you wake. For a moment, you began to search for Anakin but the shower in the other room indicated where he was. 

You smiled and cuddled further into his sheets. The warmth of the blankets began to pull you back into slumber but your phone interrupted the notion. 

It was one of the girls you had gotten dinner with last night, what would she be calling this early for?

“Hello?”

y/n, I’m sorry but you need to come back now, I don’t think it's the best idea for you to be with anakin-

“Wait, slow down… why?”

She sent you screenshots of the messages he sent and you almost dropped your phone.

“What the fuck?! Anakin sent this?”

Yes, this morning- I really think you should get out of that relationship y/n- I’ve been telling you this! He’s trying to make you dependent on only him- it's not healthy!

You took a moment to regain your thoughts and quickly said a goodbye when you heard the water stop running. 

Why would he be so cruel? You knew he had his issues but he’d never been so explicitly viscous before. Maybe your friends were right, you had been manipulated so much that you were defending his toxic behavior. This had to stop. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him for long (he would just pull you back in). So you quickly began to gather your things so that it would be easier to leave after you talked with him. 

You almost had everything packed when the doorknob turned to reveal a fresh Anakin; his hair was still damp from the shower and his skin had a glistening shine from the residual steam. He had such a big smile… you hated this, but it needed to be done. 

“What’s going on princess?” he frowned when he saw your bag was already packed. 

“Anakin… I have to go” you said hurriedly. 

He moved in front of you and held up a hand, “Woah, can we talk about what’s going on? Why are you leaving in such a hurry?” he asked (genuinely worried). 

With a sigh, you looked him in the eye, “Anakin- we can’t keep doing this- we aren’t good for eachother”. 

He felt his chest tighten. 

“Was it your friends? Did they put those thoughts in your head?! I told you they weren’t-”

“Anakin! Please, enough! I saw what you said to them- Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with… You’ve changed so much” you said with watery eyes.

For a moment he looked as if he were going to punch something but eventually he let out a breath and defeatedly stood to the side. Your words seemed to really hit him. 

“Angel, I do what I do because I love you- you know that. I know I’m messed up- but I’ve been working on it, Truly” he promised.

Tears fell as you shook your head, “I know Ani, but it's not fair to me- I can’t keep doing this! We always end up fighting and you always get upset”

“I DON'T!” Anakin unintentionally shouted, making you shrink away from him. 

“This is what I'm talking about Ani, I don’t wanna do this- no, i’m not doing this anymore. I’m leaving” you said, grabbing your things and heading for the door. 

He called your name but you ignored him, you almost got to his front door when he grabbed your upper arm. 

“Let go!” you shouted, snatching your arm from his hold.

“Please, just leave me alone” you cried as you walked out of the house and headed for the uber you sneakily called while he was still in the shower. 

As the uber drove away, you saw a confused and hurt Anakin standing in his driveway.

You put your head in your hands and cried… 

It needed to be done.

It had to. 

_________________________________________

A few months later

The early autumn air nipped at your skin as you haistilly exited the rowdy club. You shivered and crossed your arms after checking the time. 

10:34 pm

You had only gotten to the damn club 30 minutes ago and you already wanted to leave. You and some friends had gone out to reward yourselves for a hard week (and to hopefully get your mind off of your ex).

Some guy in the club had gotten a little too handsy fior your comfort- he attempted to put his hand up your dress and grope your breasts while you were just leaning over the bar to order another drink. You slapped him across the face and made your way outside to get some air. 

You wanted to leave; as you stood by the curb you felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes. 

Fuck. 

The sensation of alcohol warmed your tummy and clouded your thoughts. Warm, strong hands protecting you from any other man who dared to look at you. Fierce blue eyes warding off any unwanted attention- 

No. 

You physically shook your head and opened your phone to distract yourself. There was no fucking way you were thinking about him right now. You scrolled to your uber app and looked up rates for a ride back to your apartment. 

$40, $35, $47, $32, $43

The rates were through the roof, no way you were going to pay that just to get a few blocks home. 

Almost instinctively, your hands moved so that your thumb was shivering over Anakin’s number. 

What were you doing?!

You were about to swipe off when you realized: you weren’t willing to take an expensive uber, but you also didn’t want to walk that far in heels and at night. Maybe you should call him… at least you know him and he does owe you a favor anyways. 

Fuck it. 

You unblock and dial his number. 

Ring…

Ring…….

Ring………..

Voicemail.

You groaned. You knew very well what he was doing- he was making you call several times so that you would look desperate. He loved doing that shit. You dialed again. 

Ring…

 Rin- 

“Hey sweet thing, finally came to your senses?” he said, smugness dripping off his every word. 

“Anakin- please come pick me up” you sniffed. 

“And why would I do that? Why would I do you a favor after you’ve been such a bra-”

“Ani- someone tried to touch me- I wanna go home” you cried. 

The other end of the phone went silent. Anakin’s eye began to twitch and his grip on the phone tightened. 

“Where?” he gritted out. 

“What? I’m on fourth street, over by the old mill-”

“Where did he touch you?” he interrupted. 

You took a breath- maybe you shouldn’t have called Anakin, you knew he was going to cause a scene- but at the same time a dark part of you wanted him to become violent with his passion for you. 

“He put his hand up my skirt and started groping my breas-”

“I’m on my way” is all he said before finally adding-

“That fucker is dead.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Ani was coming. 

___________

Anakin’s knuckles were a fiery red as he dealt several blows to the man who had dared to touch his girl. His vision clouded by rage and hatred; how dare someone try to touch what was his. 

Sure, you were broken up (or so you thought); but anakin saw it as just a small break- You were getting back together- he knew it.

All he was waiting on was your call. 

Once he was satisfied, he stood up and shook the blood off of his hand. He looked over his work; the man’s face wa bloodied and his lip was cracked (there was also possibly a tooth missing but Anakin didn’t really give a  fuck). 

He leaned over and spat, “Don’t ever touch someone who isn’t yours again”. 

He made his way through the crowd of stunned onlookers who all began to back away from him as he headed towards the bathroom. Once he got there, everyone stepped out and allowed him to walk in with no hesitation (They didn’t want to get on his bad side in any shape or form). 

He leaned on the sink and examined the cut on his cheekbone. 

Whatever. 

He turned on the faucet and washed the blood from his hands; no need for his beautiful girl to see the blood of a fucking perv. 

He dried his hands and exited the building to collect you from outside the building. 

You stood there, arms crossed, his jacket draped over your shoulders: his Angel. 

“Hey, sweetheart” he called in a soft voice as he put his arm around you. 

You looked at him with big eyes. 

“Are you alright?” He kissed your forehead. 

You nodded and hugged him closer to you.

“It's all taken care of, let's get you home”

______

“I knew you’d come back” he broke the silence in the car (well, the radio was on- but you hadn’t spoken since he left the club).

“Anakin, can we please not talk about this right now? '' you said quietly. 

He glanced at you and put a tender hand on your thigh. 

“Angel, these past few weeks without you have been hell… I’m sorry for how I acted- I love you”.

You knew this was just another way he was trying to manipulate you- he definitely don’t attempt to better himself, but you couldn’t help but indulge him- after all… you missed him too. You placed one of your hands on top of his and met his eye. 

“Ani- will you take me to your’s?” you asked shyly, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in his bed. 

He smiled and rubbed his hand along your leg, “Of course darling”. 

“Maybe I can help relieve some of your stress too,” he added with a deeper tone. 

You mentally sighed- of course he wanted that; but you also wouldn’t mind having him near you again, so you politely nodded with a smile. 

He squeezed your thigh, “That’s my girl, I knew you couldn’t quit me that easy”

You turned your head to look out the window at the bright city once more… He was right- you just couldn’t quit him.

***

Once again anakin is completely fucked up in this fic- pls dont romantiscice this behavior in real life... other than that- I hope you enjoyed the fic lmfaooo. I haven't really written ani as an actually problamatic character before, its mostly just like rude or grumpy ani lmfao. but ty for stopping by!!

[riordanness]

fictional — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 2.1K

warnings: none

‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’

I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.

Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.

I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.

Percy Jackson.

I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.

I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.

The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.

“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”

“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”

Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.

“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”

“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.

“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”

“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”

Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”

I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”

And even Andie can’t argue with that.

I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.

I perk up, though, when I hear something new.

“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”

Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.

A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.

I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.

Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.

The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.

This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.

And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.

The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”

I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.

“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”

I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.

I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”

The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.

“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”

I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”

I just stare at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Your name is Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.

Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”

I nod slowly. “Of course.”

Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”

My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”

Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”

It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.

I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.

The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.

The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.

It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.

Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.

The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.

“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”

Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.

I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”

Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”

“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”

I relax. “It’s okay.”

I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”

Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”

“You don’t have plans?” he asks.

I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.

“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.

“Wait,” I say. “What?”

“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”

“You aren’t saying no.”

“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”

Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”

I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.

“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”

I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.

“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.

Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”

I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”

“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.

And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.

Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.

The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.

[twilightprince101]

Let's be careful before labeling Wally or Home as "The Villain" of Welcome Home

Or anyone for that matter imo

Listen, I can completely understand why people would go to that conclusion. "So Below" and the eerie vibe that Wally gives off in his obsession don't exactly give either a flattering light (I know there are also the art pieces on Clown's personal blog, but I'm not counting anything that hasn't been officially released yet)

But whenever someone labels a character who is acting weird as "the villain," it puts a bad taste in my mouth. At the end of the day, characters in fiction are real people with motivations, so labeling one as "evil" or "the villain" can sometimes erase that complexity. And after the most recent update, we know that Wally has A Lot of very, very complicated feelings about the situation.

Before I get into that though, I wanna point out something that Clown himself has said describes the brand of horror that "Welcome Home" gives off to themselves personally. Click here for the link to the post.

Before I get into that though, I wanna point out something that Clown himself has said describes the brand of horror that "Welcome Home" gives off to themselves personally. Click here for the link to the post.

"My home doesn't feel like home anymore."

That line sticks to me pretty hard. There's a pervasive feeling of unfamiliarity, unreality, that exists in the core of the story itself.

I think we see, firsthand, Wally experiencing this in the latest updates. In all of the hidden Bug/Answer secret videos, we see a familiar pattern. We get some sort of scene of two other characters talking, a scene in whatever universe they call home, until at the very end one of the characters addresses Wally (who was apparently there the whole time) and the video glitches out.

A key part that not a lot of people seem to realize though is that these videos are from Wally's perspective. See the above picture with Wally's hands. In every scene, Wally is present and was supposedly taking part in an activity (in the above one, helping Poppy with knitting), before the video started playing.

Whenever I saw these videos I had that same feeling that something felt. Different. The interactions felt like scenes you would see in the animated/cartoony aesthetic we'd see from the various art pieces, it doesn't feel like it's "on set/TV" to me. They're moreso just intimate glimpses into their lives. But they're shot in the real world, and that feels. Wrong.

This is very likely the same feeling that Wally's having in that moment. "My home doesn't FEEL like home." It's like he's disassociating, having a brief episode of that unreality feeling. Those bouts of strangeness don't go away until, like clockwork, someone says his name and the video ends, snapping him out of it.

Do other people in the neighborhood also feel the same way? Maybe, but we don't know. What we do know is that Wally, whether or not he tries to explain this to others, feels isolated by this sensation. "My neighbors are only neighborly until they know I'm different in a way they can see."

The only other person he likely shares this feeling with? I'd take a guess that it's Home. Nearly every time Home has been featured, Wally has been there, close. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the only physical puppets/props we’ve seen of the cast are Wally and Home.

According to this post by @eldritchravens, Home is the only other person who talks directly to Us, the viewers. That's probably why they're so close, because they're the only ones who can truly confide in each other about this.

"So does that mean Home is manipulating Wally?"

Again, I really don't think that's the case. I don't wanna call people villains quite yet. Besides, we see (or well, hear) Home and Barnaby have a conversation together, and from how Barnaby reacts it's fairly casual.

This shared feeling is likely why Wally is so obsessed with us, including the Restoration Employee. They seem to be sharing a similar sensation to Wally's bouts of unreality, in the fact that it seems they're the ONLY one who doesn't remember Welcome Home being a thing. They seem to be one of the few things that Wally (and maybe even Home) consider to be "Real." Hence their obsession with "seeing" us.

"Isn't this Wally or Home manipulating the Employee though?"

Maybe, I don't know. We don't really know much of what's going on right now, we're only getting glimpses. For all we know this could be a side-effect of Wally/Home trying to reach out. For the time being though, I want to keep my own expectations in check. I'm choosing not to label Wally, Home, The Restoration Team or anyone as a "villain" until something definitive comes up.

It is very, very likely that Wally is going to be doing something more dangerous later down the line (or maybe even is doing so now). But if he's doing anything, I get the feeling it's more out of desperation. He wants something to quell this feeling inside of him, this pervasive sense of unreality, and to connect with something he feels is "real." And, for better or for worse, that thing is us.

This whole thing isn't to bash on people for speculation or theorycrafting, I personally think speculation is very healthy! But it's still important to remember what the core of this story is going to be. We're only seeing the very start of the story right now, and we don't know what'll happen down the line. It's useful to keep that core idea at the center of our speculation so we can have reasonable expectations going forward.

As for me? This doesn't feel like a story with villains. I don't think he'll pull a Monika from DDLC and start gaining a kill count, but if something does happen to the rest of the cast, my money is that it'll happen completely by accident, and he'll regret it. Hard.

[riveatstoes]

The Charles Xavier Dr. Pepper Timeline (CXDPT)

i can feel in my bones that this is something hardcore X-Men fans are going to lose their minds over (because it’s already happened once in real life), so a quick DISCLAIMER: this is a joke! this is not a serious post, but is actually the culmination of an inside joke between me and my friend! laugh! it’s supposed to be funny.

so, almost two weeks ago now, me and my friend were chatting with a logan chatbot, and—as two people who ship scogan—decided to ask him about scott. and it replied by accidentally using she/her pronouns for him, thus giving us the first inkling of this horrible, horrible au: transmasc scott summers.

from there it wasn’t a long road to where we’re at now, which is…interesting, to say the least. we add onto this universe whenever we’re being stupid and the X-Men come up. for example, we were at work and hating it, so we thought “what if charles decided to make the X-Men work in fast food for a day, and they all abandon kurt inside to do every station himself”

goes without saying that now whenever we’re mad at our job, we express it out loud in mildly okay kurt wagner impressions.

but anyway, the main part of this post is next: the specifics of this AU, written out in a bullet point list of everything that’s canon in it. let me reiterate that this is for shits and giggles, so i don’t want to hear anything about “but _____ isn’t canon!!!” WE KNOW.

Everything Canon In The CXDPT

Charles was not born with his abilities, but instead gained them right after WWII. His parents offered him a crisp can of Dr. Pepper, and the sheer deliciousness gave him the powers we know him for

In order to maintain his abilities he has to drink an absurd amount of Dr. Pepper daily

TRANSGENDER SCOTT!!!

Scogan is real and they’re insufferable

Laura is a Disney Channel / Hannah Montana girlie and makes Logan watch with her (he’s secretly also a fan)

Jean is transphobic. This is a repercussion of her having almost no personality in the original movie trilogy. She was also hit by the lesbianism beam

Laura got Hollywood Undead banned in the mansion

Kurt has a mysterious BF who just stands next to him most of the time and enjoys throwing rocks at Magneto (Kurt doesn’t take part in this but does encourage it)

Charles uses his telepathy to harass Scott into bringing him Dr. Pepper (the others don’t care as much so manipulation doesn’t work)

“Hey Scott, it’s me, Charles Xavier. Remember how my legs don’t work? Do you see this wheelchair? Wanna bring me a Dr. Pepper about it, Scott?”

Laura got banned from MovieStarPlanet for harassing and cussing out her “ex-boyfriend”

Mystique and Rogue defend anything questionable that Laura does by going “Oh come ON guys she’s JUST a GIRL!!!”

Storm is the only normal one here. Everyone else ages her so very badly just by being their pure, unaltered selves

Scott is actually Y/N

Cherik is canon but only in a “it’s my weekend with the kids, I don’t care if it’s your birthday, I only get to see them once every other week ASSHOLE” kind of way

we acknowledge that this is quite the departure for certain characters, but the thing is that they’re fictional characters so what harm is this actually doing? this AU was purely made to fit our senses of humor which aren’t always the best, to say the least, but it’s funny to us.

hope you enjoyed this post but you probably didn’t, if i’m honest.

[f0xgl0v3]

How does one Elias Bouchard hold his Pipe/The overall murder scene

Tw this like entire post is about the proper way to hold a pipe if you wanna effectively hit someone with it several times repeatedly :3 also spoilers for MAG 80

Guys I am simply a writer and this is just for writing and thought experiment purposes, none of this shall or should be applied to real life and it’s just for the haha extended sounds of brutal pipe murder-

What has come to my life-? I’m talking about Elias Bouchard and how he holds the Pipe to murder people- I, there will be actual Percy Jackson stuff soon. Maybe talking about Camp Jupiter and armor and gear and stuff or something however,

Everyone draws Elias with really weird hand positions on the pipe-? That’s a weird thing to say and the art is fantastic but if your beating someone with a Pipe then there seems to be a way I always thought in my head-

Let’s, for the sake that I’m halfway through season 4 consider the only Pipe murder I am currently aware of would be Jurgen Leitner’s, we can work with this. Elias is standing over him at the other side of a desk while Jurgen is seated I believe-? There are a couple ways we can go about this,

1) Elias hits him while they both are in the neutral position at the desk

2) Elias walks over to Jurgen’s side during the conversation and hits him then

3) Jurgen stands up from his chair and then Elias hits him.

I have had to listen to the sound clip so many times for this- I- okay. So, the beginning of the murder still is Jurgen talking, I think audibly a bit worried. I’d like to make the assumption that while Elias is like “bird stuff always a risk about death” that is when the pipe is revealed, Jurgen is taking the moment to try and reason with him and I think 2 and 3 are the most viable due to the sound they use. In 1’s scenario Elias wouldn’t get enough strength in that first swing (due to the desk being in the way, and Elias most likely having to lean over the desk to try and get a strong strike.

Then, the sound- I believe Elias initially hits Jurgen from the side of the head, think like the same ‘row’ that your temples are on, that vague side of the head. Jurgen is heard with a grunt by the first hit; we don’t hear him fall or anything (which makes me suspect it could be a situation of Elias walking over to the other side of the table) and it doesn’t really sound like Elias moves where he hits very much- continuing to strike that original spot; otherwise we’d likely hear the crunch of bone. Am I making the assumption that the sound design would include the crunch and that I would know what hitting a skull with a metal pipe is, oh yeah totally.

Now, that settles how I think this entire thing played out, Elias revealing the pipe as he walks over to the side, Jurgen looks up in old sad man still seated and is trying to reason with Elias, maybe he even attempts to get up and that is when Elias strikes in the right side of his head (just what makes sense to me, it could be the left either it wouldn’t matter much) and repeatedly hits there 11 times (yes I counted the strikes we hear, no I don’t have anything better to do with my time because I’m putting off writing a script) before like dipping or whatever.

Now, the pipe posture if you will. I see so many drawings of Elias’s hands like this,

Raised, and for all intents and purposes from an art sense it’s rad. It’s a dynamic pose and stuff, and of course this is not a critique on artists (who are way better than me) and how they want to draw this fictional man hold his pipe. However this is my brainrot talking on the ‘hey I think this is how he’d get the most effective swing’ because I’ve listened to two seasons back to back and I no longer have a brain.

But; Elias Bouchard wants the most bang for his buck so to speak. I think holding the Pipe like the tried and true baseball bat would provide this. Elias holding it like in my very bad diagram is good if he’d want to poke or stab someone with the pipe, but it’s really effective if you can get that swing in. So yeah, baseball style; hands together near the end of the pipe and over a shoulder or even over his head if you want to be silly with his posing.

Uh, haha okay. I’m sorry but the rot is all consuming and I’ve been thinking about him a lot, also like Peter Lukas and a bunch of the other sillies but this kinda- forced itself out while I was looking at art of the scene. I, uh, :3 that’s all. I like thinking about the mapping and layout and planning of scenes like these and how the visuals might’ve looked if there were visuals. I promise I probably won’t make any more posts like this for a solid while (however, talking about Bryce Lawerence and my thing in SoN are-imagining that he was the one to kill Gwen… maybe.)

[aniekisses]

Luke Patterson NSFW Alphabet

A/n: Sooo, I feel like I need to say this even though I think you already know, but this is purely fictional, nothing here is meant to reflect real life behaviors or the actor in question. (Also here I’m thinking about a 19-20 years old Luke)

A - Aftercare (What’s like after sex)

Luke’s all about that soft side once you’re both done (He’s a total sweetheart). Always makes sure you’re comfortable, asking if you need anything, and he loves to cuddle. He’s all about holding you close, playing with your hair while whispering “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

B - Body Part (his favorite body part of his body and also his partner’s)

On Himself: His arms. He loves how they look when he’s playing guitar and he’ll definitely flex a little when he knows you’re watching

On His Partner: He has a special weakness for your neck. Kissing, biting, and brushing his lips there. (literally anything)

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Luke likes finishing inside. Whether it’s in a condom or otherwise, the sensation of being fully connected to you is something he craves. However, he’s also pretty into seeing you wear his release on your skin, especially on your chest or stomach “God, you look so good like that”, he’ll mutter as he grabs a towel.

D - Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

Luke has a bit of an exhibitionist streak. He’s low-key into the idea of getting caught. While he might not admit it right away, the thought of getting caught or doing something risky turns him on a lot more than he lets on. Maybe a little backstage action or something risky at a party. He wouldn’t actually let anyone see, but the idea?

E - Experience (how experienced he is? does he know what he’s doing?)

Luke isn’t super experienced, but he learns quickly. (He’s learned a lot from instinct and those few lucky girls before you.) he’ll ask, “Did you like that? Want me to do it again?” constantly to make sure you’re enjoying yourself

F - Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

Missionary for the closeness (He’s got a soft side, sue him). It gives him the closeness he craves while still allowing him to hold you and kiss you. He enjoys positions that allow for eye contact, but when he’s feeling a bit more reckless? Doggy style (Gives him a perfect view of that body) Plus, he loves the way your back arches under his touch. “God, you look so hot like this” he’d groan

G - Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? Or humorous?)

Luke’s a mix of both playful and serious. He’s a tease, but knows when to focus. (Expect a couple of smartass comments to keep things light)

H - Hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes?)

Luke’s grooming is pretty relaxed. He keeps himself trimmed but isn’t overly meticulous. As for whether the carpet matches the drapes—yep, it’s the same dark brown as his messy hair.

I - Intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Luke is incredibly affectionate and loving in bed. It’s not just about fucking for him; he wants to make sure you feel loved and adored. He’s all about whispering sweet things into your ear like, “You’re so beautiful… I can’t get enough of you”

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Luke is definitely the type to relieve himself when you’re not around. He isn’t shy about masturbating, and he definitely thinks about you while he does it. He’s probably caught himself doing it in once or twice, getting distracted thinking about you.

K - Kink

Luke is into praise. Both giving and receiving (let’s face it — the boy has some serious mommy issues). Hearing you tell him how good he is or how amazing he feels drives him wild, and he loves telling you how much he loves your body and how perfect you are for him. “You’re doin’ so good for me baby”

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

Luke’s favorite place to get intimate?I anywhere? Even a backstage area is incredible perfect for the moment. “Shh, we don’t wanna get caught…do we?” (But he loves the occasional comfy bed)

M - Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

Seeing you crave him is his biggest turn-on. (That look in your eyes when you can’t keep your hands off him?) Instant go-time. Also, anything that involves you in his clothes—especially his band tees “You in my shirt? Damn, babe I think we need to take it off now.”

N - No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Luke’s not into anything that would hurt you.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving)

Giving is his favorite. (Luke’s a pleaser.) He loves going down on you, taking his time and making sure you feel every damn second of it — he enjoys watching your reactions and hearing your moans, “Taste so good, babe” he’ll say between licks. Receiving? Yeah, he’s all for it, but your pleasure comes first.

P - Pace (is he fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

He’s usually fast and rough when he’s all fired up (especially after a show), but can easily slow down for those softer moments “Tell me how you want it, babe” he’ll say, adjusting to match your mood.

Q - Quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often)

Luke’s down for a quickie pretty much anytime. Actually, he loves a good quickie. He’s probably suggested a backstage quickie more than once with a grin and a “C’mon, five minutes, we got this”

R - Risk (does he take risks?)

Luke likes trying new things. He’s not reckless, but he’s definitely open to experimenting with new ideas, whether it’s different positions or public places. “Wanna try something a little different this time?”

S - Stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

Luke has decent stamina—he can go a couple of rounds, especially if it’s been a while or if he’s particularly worked up. He might get worn out after the third round, though, flopping onto the bed with an exhausted but satisfied smile.

T - Toys (does he own toys? does he use them on you?)

Luke doesn’t own toys, but if you bring ‘em into the bedroom? He’s curious as hell. (Especially about vibrators)

U - Unfair (how much he like to tease)

Luke can be such a tease. (Loves making you beg for it) He’ll kiss and touch you everywhere but where you want, watching you squirm. “What’s that? You want me to… here?” He’ll hover his hand making you practically demand it.

V - Volume (how loud he is, what sounds he make)

Luke’s a talker (Not obnoxiously loud, but definitely vocal) You’ll get low groans and the occasional whispered “fuck babe” Sometimes he’ll mutter things like, “You’re so hot, I can’t even…” when he’s really losing it.

W - Wild Card (a random headcanon)

Luke loves music during sex. He likes to set the mood with his favorite playlists and finds it a huge turn-on if it’s his band’s music playing in the background.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Luke’s physique is fit and toned. He’s not overly muscular but has a lean, defined body, with a flat stomach and strong arms. Let’s just say, he fills out his jeans very nicely (definitely bigger than average, but nothing too intimidating.) Enough to make you look twice the first time.

Y - Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

This guy has a crazy high sex drive. (He’s always ready, always eager) Whether it’s late night, mid-afternoon, or right after a gig, he’s down to get things going. “Babe, I’ve been thinking about this all day”

Z - Zzz (how quickly he fall asleep)

Luke doesn’t crash right away. He’ll stay up a little, playing with your hair or whispering random sweet stuff before you drift off. “You’re perfect, you know that?” Eventually, he’ll pass out with you in his arms.

[justalia]

I just wanna say ILYSM like you’re literally my favourite source after neville and edward, you’ve helped me have so many epiphanies and this one, which is I think the most important one just TRULY clicked for me so I thought i would share:

It finally clicked that imagination truly is reality. I am ALREADY living inside imagination and ALWAYS HAVE. When I’m walking, brushing my teeth, spending money, typing on my laptop, absolutely anything I AM ALWAYS LIVING IN IMAGINATION. I always make assumptions about who I am constantly. I just need to stop feeding into the assumptions from the past that have been created based on this world of shadows and instead create and identify with the ones I want that allow me to be who I want to be and have what I want to have.

Like before I would be like yeah ok imagination is the only reality but part of me still thought it was fiction or fake but I was only fooling myself. Why would I believe the assumptions from this world of shadows that merely reflects my imagination, which I can easily create to be my paradise and identify with that instead. And when I imagine this incredible, lavish reality of mine, I don’t wonder “oh when will it happen” “will it even happen” “oh but it’s just imagination” anymore BECAUSE it actually, genuinely IS the true reality, if I have it in imagination then I truly have it. And idgaf whether it reflects or not because I’m already experiencing it and it’s by LAW that the 3D also shows it to me anyway. Like it’s genuinely the real reality and it’s crazy that I finally deeply accept and understand why after seeing everyone say it. It’s strange how as a child everyone refers to imagination as something childish, false and fiction when it’s the opposite, it’s literally the CREATOR of the very world I live in and experience.

i’m so so so happy you had this click for you, can’t wait to hear from you!

[growsagain]

Before you follow or message me (updated Sept ‘24)

💙 Tummy kink blog (no minors) run by a gaining 40-something, bi, autistic, demisexual, transmasc feedee belly model who’s played a stomach fetish character called Gurgle Goddess for the past ten years 🍟🍔

💜 👉 Looking for feeders! 👈 Gaining is my serious focus right now! Gaining for almost 11 years.  SW: 6 stone (84lb/38kg) ✨ CW: 17 stone (238lb/107.9kg) ✨ GW: 300lb (21.4 stone/136kg)

🩷 My health limits the amount I can work. Updating Patreon and OF is my priority but I share samples, preview pics and bonus clips on social media as much as I’m able!

🤍 SORRY, I DON’T DM! Especially not if you just send ‘hi’ or ‘hey’. Anything else, I’ll maybe check once in a blue moon and ask you to send me an ask or an email instead!

🩵 My posts are often filtered by tumblr so feel free to check my blog occasionally for the things you may have missed!

Before you message me:

Gurgle Goddess is just a character I play - I’m a real person (hi! 🤗) you can also find me here where I’m just being myself: @imthemiddleman

‼️ NO TRIBUTES ‼️ Enjoy my content however you like! I just don’t wanna see or hear about it!

🔸Please Don’t:🔸 Flirt, use familiar, cute or feminine nicknames or terms, or talk about touching/doing things to any part of my body, that makes me really uncomfortable

✨💛 Happily taken 💛✨ very devoted to my lovely partner Luce! 🥰 💍 been together over 10 years 🥰

Please don’t send pics/vids - I really appreciate the thought! It just makes me uncomfortable, I’m sorry! the only tummy I’m into is my lovely partner’s 🥵 and a possible exception of maybe two fictional characters (yeah, you know who one of those is 😑😑😑)

I’d rather be complimented than teased/degraded - I’m proud of my body, belly & gains 🩵 I only like the other stuff from Luce 😈

Sorry, I don’t IM, but I love asks!!! especially anons I can post 🤗

Sorry, I can’t do small talk! I’m autistic, exhausted and extremely socially awkward, I’m always happy to answer questions in asks but that’s about my limit 🤯

🩷 My favourite parts of the kink (in current approx order!):

Weight gain (not into unrealistic or excessive/immobility)

Burping

Stuffing/Bloating/Overeating

Strongfat

Belly noises

Digestion

Upset tummy

Internal Gas

Object vore (marbles etc)

💜 Lesser parts of my kink (often only of interest in specific circumstances):

Hiccups

Hunger noises (I HATE being hungry so growls are way less exciting to me but are more interesting now I’m fatter and they give my greed away so much more than they used to 🤫!)

Stretch marks

Full bladder/desperation

Pregnancy/mpreg

🖤 On Hold: Farting

Please leave farts WELL alone right now. in addition to the severe health issues that make this impossible rn the way some members of the community have bombarded me about this over the years have at this point destroyed the tiny part of it I found enjoyable. If I‘m ever to enjoy this in *any* way again or have any inclination to make fart content in future it’s really important that I find my *own* way into enjoying this again to even a small degree. Time and space are the best way for that to happen - thank you for understanding 💕

🩶 Personally not into:

Being hungry/starving

Inflation

Vore

Farts (right now)

💔 Turn-Offs:

Vomiting (actually phobic, can only tolerate in written form)

Scat

More extreme farting stuff (face sitting etc, big turn off)

Unrealistic weight gain/eating

💚 And if anyone’s interested, here are some of my Non Belly kinks:

Mind control

Intox

False memory

Embarrassment/humiliation

Drag (obviously :P)

Body transformation? I mean, weight gain comes under that umbrella too obvs but things like (not extreme) muscle building, body mods, other body changes

I also have a lot of non-con/survival kinks that serve as trauma processing.

Romance/yearning/jealousy/tragic love (I have issues ok??? :P T has done a number on my emotions!!!) (and yes it is a kink, as i’ve come to resentfully admit, much to my chagrin and Lucy’s amusement!!! 😫😅)

Captain Jack fucking Harkness 😑😑😑 I think he counts 😫

Aside from belly stuff I’m total fandom trash, talk to me about Torchwood and I’m putty in your hands :P

[livvyofthelake]

now that we’ve been sitting on it for four months i need to rank the tortured poets department for real… it means nothing to rank an album two days after it comes out like that’s pointless fr let’s take this seriously

guilty as sin. this is an insane song. unfortunately i read a book the week this album came out and this song is permanently attached to that book in a small part but as we all know i did my absolute best to remain chill neutral and only weird about tsc at the time of this album drop so it all balanced out in the end and none of the songs are particularly associated with anything cringe. except two. but not this one i only brought up the book because it’s a little bit associated. you understand. the song is a slay of epic proportions on its own of course. i’ve mentally made this one about so many fictional guys it’s crazy… we have fun huh

my boy only breaks his favorite toys. this one was my instant favorite she’s not going anywhereeeee

but daddy i love him. some people don’t understand it but i do… i love her…

the alchemy. honestly? who are we to fight the alchemy…. literally!!!!

the albatross. sort of like who’s afraid of little old me if it was a song i liked more!

so high school. what more is there to say than truth dare spin bottles you know how to ball i know aristotle brand new full throttle touch me while your bros play grand theft auto it’s true swear scouts honor you knew what you wanted and boy you got her brand new full throttle you already know babe…

florida. cunty! florence + the machine!

the black dog. aforementioned two songs. well we knew this would be one. like we knew that the whole time. what could i possibly have done to save this one… genuinely what could i possibly have done. we saved the album in time i know but i mean. we all knew this track was a goner. nothing to be done. it’s a great song though like genuinely let’s be honest… one out of 31 is a great ratio. april 18th me was expecting a much worse percentage tbh

down bad. i just like it :)

who’s afraid of little old me. mildly over saturated. but kinda deserved the hype she slays

fresh out the slammer. one of aforementioned two songs that kinda got ruined. this song is about cbs drama fire country forever there’s nothing to be done. it’s not a huge loss this song is a little mid if i’m being honest. i think it’s too short i don’t fuck with it heavily

fortnight. my husband is cheating!! i wanna kill him!!!!

the prophecy. song that makes you cry…

the smallest man who ever lived. crazy ass bridge. rest of the song. well.

i can fix him (no really i can). i like that this song title is formatted like a fanfiction title that’s a lyric to a taylor swift song…

imgonnagetyouback. like. cute fun song sure yes. cannot get it out of my head that me personally if i had asked for writing credits from olivia rodrigo on a song that sounded nothing like my song, i personally would not have released this. me personally…

how did it end. crazy song that makes you go damn her life suckssss for real… yikes!

i can do it with a broken heart. not even a bad song it’s just the popular one with swifties and i hear it all the time without my consent.

the tortured poets department. can i be honest. sometimes taylor swift writes songs that would be awesome if not for one utterly batshit ridiculous lyric that embarrasses me so bad i can’t even fuck with the song. this has happened many times she’s an embarrassing celebrity to like everyone knows this. it’s not even the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist” that’s actually fine. it’s what comes directly after that. “i scratch your head you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever” taylor. 😐 i can’t. i can’t even talk about this actually. also i can’t stand the lucy dacus and jack antonoff name drop lyrics at all like taylor please stop embarrassing me….

i do not actively listen to any of the other ones anymore so i just didn’t include them because why would i rank songs i don’t even listen to let’s take this seriously… they’re fine. the only one i might describe as a song i actively dislike is chloe or sam or sophia or marcus. like i do not care for that one at all

[lightlycareless]

Hi! I’m a big fan of works and they’ve inspired me a lot to start writing fanfiction again(specifically Naoya lol). It’s been probably over 10 years since I’ve written fanfiction(Although I do write my own original works) and I’ve been horrified to write fanfiction again after how my first fanfic was treated when I wrote it as a kid(the criticism was valid but they were mean af about it). So I was wondering if you have any tips you could share about writing fanfiction and how you balance characterization as well as character growth for a character like Naoya who in canon does not really have any? I hope this makes sense. I’m willing to elaborate further if it doesn’t but if you don’t wanna answer this, it’s totally fine too-💚

Hi!!! Omg thank you so so much!! I'm so flattered :')))) akgakjgjakjgujka I never thought i'd be in this position, idk, like, I was the one that looked up to others you know?

but aaaaah thank you so much for your lovely words 🥺❤️

Now onto the good stuff hehehe.

So, I guess the best way about characterization, at least what I think has helped me (and how I handle it? excuse me if it doesn't make sense hahah) is trying to first analyze the environment in which said character grew in, how it affects him, and how it has affected people in real life. (cause at the end of the day, reality surpasses fiction)

For example: with what little we got from Naoya in the manga (extras included) I can easily say Naoya is not liked, thus, he’s very lonely. The type of person that surrounds himself with “yes-people” because of what they represent, not because of who they really are. Of course, the older he got the more cold/resentful he became, but even then, I was sure that he always craved what he never had in his life, a family. Love. Appreciation for who he is. All humans want that, we’re social people, we live in societies for a reason. We need to have companionship, either through partners, or friendships.

I also get the idea that, even when he was supposed to be the next heir, no one really wanted him. Like, he got the job because “There was no one else” to do it, not because he was the best candidate. I have no doubt that if Naoya failed his weird plan of getting rid of Megumi, or whatever he did he didn’t become heir anyways, he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with his life, an identity crisis would certainly be on his way.

Anyways, in order to get inspiration I tend to hear lots of podcasts about people and their peculiar stories, true crime even, it’s how I concluded that Naoya is definitely a womanizer not because he likes the act (I’m sure he does) but because he craves attention, and he needs it whenever he can. That kind of stuff, you know? A lot of psychology stuff too, it helps you understand what traits a lonely person can inhibit, their actions, what different environments do to different people, so on and so forth.

Also, reading other stories is certainly very inspiring/productive too :> I can easily say that Naoya and his family is based on the Todoroki’s from bnha: prodigy child, rest of the children are neglected, some of then even jealous… it just made sense. And I’m sure there’s more examples like that. There’s no shame in getting inspired by other works, as long as it’s not a carbon copy, you know?

In the end, I guess the best way to do characterization/character growth is to do lots of brainstorming, in the sense of: what is the environment that this character grew in? the problems he can face in such place, the reaction, his main goal, what he’s doing to obtain it, and so on. Developing these things will make the pieces slowly fall into place when it comes to making a character’s background/growth/personality 🤭it’s really fun, more so when you have a blank canvas to work on 😏

Well, I hope it was of any help!! I really don’t know how else to describe how I do these things, I just spend most of my time daydreaming and such. But still, if there’s anything else you’d like for me to further explain, just let me know and I’ll do my best ❤️

Take care, and hope you have a wonderful weekend!!

P.S. Don’t let reviews discourage you from writing fanfiction!! I know everyone has their opinion, but at the end of the day it’s your work, and if they don’t like it, they can write their own!! 🥺 so cheer up!

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

Dear Frankie Chapter Ten

Summary: When the two of you share a moment in his truck upon his return, Frankie asks you a life changing question. In that moment your life changes in more ways then one Words:  5,397 Rating: 18+ SMUT please don’t read if you are under 18 Warnings/Triggers for series: Frankie is active duty military, deployment, death, Adult language, themes, and SMUT A/N: So I don’t really know anything…ok I know nothing about Fayetteville, North Carolina.  I am taking my own liberties on what it’s like there.  Names of places may exist, but I have no idea if they are real or not as well as some of the events I have.  But it's fan fiction and there are no rules.  While the reader may have some descriptions, I am doing my best to leave out physical characteristics. Just try to have a little imagination while you're reading this. 

**Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. **

The windows covered in fog, your hands trying to find something, anything to hold on to while Frankie continues to thrust up into you. Hitting you in the perfect spot every time. His hands hold onto your waist, bringing your body down as he thrusts up in perfect timing. 

You arch your back, head falling backwards moaning his name. His lips finding any bare skin in his reach, hot breath over your damp sweaty skin. You grip the headrest so hard you think you might break it. 

“Oh my god, yes…yes” you moan. You feel yourself getting close, you don’t want to let go just yet, you need more, you want this to last forever. “Shit, I’m I’m” you can barely get the words out as you grip him tightly, your eyes close, head falling forward. Lips searching for his, the feeling of him making you cum after so long was too much and your body shakes and he continues to chase his own. 

He is relentless in finding his own release. Gripping you tighter, his breathing picking up. You feel every ridge, every vein. Your teeth tug on his earlobe. Fingers threading through his hair, his hat somewhere in the truck. He reaches his peak, ropes of his seed filling as your second orgasm quickly followed. Resting your forehead against him, both of you panting trying to catch your breath. Tucking a stray hair behind your ear he cups your face between his hands. Eyes staring into yours, time stands still and finally everything in your life feels right. 

“Frankie, promise me something?” 

“anything” 

“Don’t leave me…” you bite your bottom lip afraid this was all just a dream 

“I promise, this…you are my home. You are where I wanna be” his thumb brushes away a tear that was starting to fall “I love you” 

A gentle tap on the window scares you both. You lean back, Frankie reaching over to the driver side, rolling down the window to see Officer Powers standing there. “Morales…” he sighs like a disappointed parent

“Officer Powers,” he groans and you can’t help but giggle “I uhm, we…yeah” 

“Finish and get outta here, you know the rules” 

“You’re not mad?” 

“Welcome home Morales” Officer Powers says. Greeting you, he tips his head “you got 10 minutes” and he backs away from the truck. You can hear him slowly pull away. 

You can’t help but give a small laugh, Frankie leans back. Relief flooding his face, he was worried what Officer Powers was going to do catching him in this particular position. “Fuck,” he sighs “that was close”

The thrill of getting caught was something new, something that you kinda wanted to do again. You slowly rock your hips, feeling him getting hard again. You tilt his jaw up, kissing him again and he shakes his head against you. 

“If he comes back and we’re still here…” 

“Guess that means you better hurry the fuck up Morales” you rock your hips more beginning to pick up the pace. 

You know it’s been longer than ten minutes, it’s been much longer than that. But you can’t get enough of him. He’s still buried inside you, while your face is buried in the crook of his neck. Breathing him in, your hand rests on his pounding heart. This was better than any dream, it’s real. He’s real and he’s with you. 

His arms are wrapped around you, holding you to his chest. He’s well aware of the time. He knows that Officer Powers could be back at any moment. But he doesn’t want to leave this quiet serenity. He missed you, special forces was more than he imagined it would be. Death had always happened, but it was becoming a daily thing. Friends being carried home in caskets. The saying ‘life is short’ was true and he was ready for a life with you. 

The window was left open and you hear Officer Powers clear his throat, “Morales, what did I tell you?” His voice was more annoyed than angry. 

“I know I know” 

“It’s my fault” you say lifting your head, “I got a little carried away” 

“No, sir it’s my fault” Frankie injects 

“Just get dressed, and get out of here. I’ll be in the truck behind you” Powers rolls his eyes and walks back to the truck. His lights shining in the window

You turn your body, still connected to Frankie reaching into the glovebox to grab some napkins you know he kept in there. Your fingers brush over a velvet box. Completely forgetting the reason you were in there you pull the box out and look at him, “what is this?” 

“You’ve had my truck for over a year and you're just now finding this?” he chuckles vibrating your entire body “it looks like a ring box” 

“Frankie?” the box feels heavy in your hand 

“Well, this isn’t how I planned it. But what the fuck, why not?” He takes the box from your shaking hand  

He opens the box, taking out the ring. “It’s not much, but…ok here it goes. You showed me what love was, what love is. I was always afraid to let someone get close to me. But then you came along and showed me what love is and just how scary and how fun it can be. You're the first girl I said I love you too and I want you to be the last.” 

“Yes…” you shout before he even asks 

“I didn’t even ask you anything yet,” he chuckles. He leans forwards giving you a quick kiss before saying your name “Estrella, my love. Will you marry me?” 

You nod, hands covering your shocked face “yes Francisco…yes” he takes your hand and slides the ring on your finger. The square diamond sits on a gold band, small diamonds sit in the band, he said it wasn’t much, but it was the most beautiful ring you could have imagined.  

You lunge forward, grabbing the sides of his face and kissing him deeply. His hands wrap around you and smiles against your lips “just maybe when people ask how I proposed, we don’t tell them it was like this?” 

“Nope…I’m telling everyone you asked while your were still buried deep inside and Officer Powers caught us for the third time” you smile 

“Third time?” Frankie leans back, glancing to his right seeing Officer Powers standing at the window yet again. Frankie shakes his head and Officer Powers just smiles as you show him the ring. 

Was the proposal everything I had ever dreamed of? No, not in the slightest. But it was completely you and us. Frankie I love you and I’m ready for the next steps. 

“Fraaaaaaaankie” you yell from the bathroom. It had been five weeks since your last period and just over three weeks since Frankie and your homecoming party. In his truck. 

You're sitting on the floor in the bathroom, hovering over the toilet trying not to throw up again. Frankie opens the bathroom door and the smell of bacon fills the space, making you empty whatever was left in your stomach into the toilet. 

“What’s wrong? Are you…” he stops and runs behind you, pulling your hair back keeping it from falling in your face “baby what’s wrong? You’ve been like this a couple days now. I don’t think it’s food poisoning”  

“Frankie, I'm fine. I promise” you go to stand, a little light headed and grab onto Frankie to keep yourself from falling. His hands wrap around you. The smell of burning bacon makes you sick to your stomach again. 

“No, nope that’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital", his voice full of concern. He wraps his arm around your waist, bending over to pick up your legs and carrying your bridal style down the stairs. You protest for him to put you down. Telling him you are perfectly capable of walking. 

Benny is at the stove, trying to stop the house from burning down, “Cat, man what the fuck you can’t just leave baaaaStella are you ok?” he quickly pulls the pan off the stove 

“I’m fine. Just food poisoning. Tell him I’m fine” you say as Frankie walks towards the door leading to the garage grabbing your purse along the way 

“It’s been three days, it’s not food posioning. We are going to the hospital” 

It was no use, when Frankie had his mind set on something he was going to do. He wouldn’t let anything get in the way. No matter how many times you told him you were fine he wouldn’t believe it until a doctor said so. You didn’t have time for a doctor and a wedding to plan. A wedding that was happening much quicker than you had anticipated thanks to Frankie being called to Duty again. 

You sit in the waiting room at the local ER, waiting for your name to be called. “Frankie, it’s just stress. The wedding before you leave again. Trying to plan something in like a moooonnn” you try to reason with him when a nurse was calling your name 

You stand and Frankie follows, you tell him your fine and he can wait there. He looked hurt, “I’ll be fine and I will tell you everything. I promise” you lean down and kiss his cheek before walking towards the nurse who called your name “hi” you greet her. 

White floor, white walls, white cupboards and a white bed. You hated any medical office, too many memories of your mom being sick. You sit with your feet dangling from the bed, twiddling your thumbs waiting for the doctor to come in. There was a knock on the door and it slowly opened. 

You felt like you were in the room forever, being integrated by the doctor and the nurse. Blood tests and a few more questions you are finally released “we’ll call you in a few days with the results. But for now just take it easy. If you have any other problems don’t be afraid to call us” 

“Will do, thanks” 

A few hours later you were sitting on the small couch in Frankie’s room. Reading one of the romance novels he had on the bookshelf when your phone rang. Frankie was working out. It was the doctor's office with what you only guessed was the results of your blood work. 

“What? Really?” You shouldn’t have been shocked by the answer. But you still weren’t completely prepared for it 

“Yes ma’am, congratulations” 

Shit…I mean I’m excited. But I don’t know if I can do this. A wedding, preparing for you to leave again and a baby? How do I tell you? Do I tell you? I mean I’ll be like 4 months when you leave…maybe you won’t notice and then bam surprise when you get home. 

Naw who am I kidding, that won’t work. You notice everything and I don’t want to hurt you by not telling you. Well, Frankie…I’m pregnant.

You didn’t hear him come home, you weren’t even aware that you had fallen asleep on the sofa until you felt a pair of hands moving the book that was still open on your lap. He was dressed in a pair of flannel PJ pants and a simple black shirt. His hair curling at the bottom and little water droplets sit at the ends. You go to sit up, he shakes his head and curls up behind you. “Shhh…close your eyes again. A nap sounds nice” he kisses your cheek. His back pressed against the back of the sofa and an open wraps around you pulling you closer until your bodies become one. 

He slides his hand under your shirt. His palm warm as he leaves is on your bare stomach. His thumb gently stroking the soft skin. You can feel his breath against your neck. It would be so easy to fall asleep right now, so easy to just stay like this. You put your hand on top of his and lace your fingers with him. You take a deep breath, he needs to know. 

“The doc called while you were away” you say softly. Eyes still closed and Frankie kisses the skin on your neck he can reach 

“Mmmm…you seem better” 

“I’m…” you swallow hard. You turn your body laying on your back so you can see his face. “Frankie,” you cup his cheek. Fingertips brushing over his freshly shaven face. He kisses your palm and opens his eyes to you. 

“Frankie, I’m pregnant” 

“Really?” His eyes shoot open “what, when, how…”

“Remember the night you came home?” you ask and he nods his head, “I think you are clearly aware of how…but yeah. I…we’re pregnant” 

The smile on his face lights up the room and he wraps you up in his arms. Peppering your face with kisses as you close your eyes and giggle. Before you know it, he’s hovering over you, his face inches from yours, eyes locked onto yours. “I love you”

“I love you” you reply and his lips mold to yours. Slow, sweet, but filled with passion. His tongue brushes against the seam of your lips begging for you to let him in. You grant him it, his tongue darts in. Moving with yours and you thread your fingers into his hair. His lips move to your neck, spending time there, making sure to leave his mark. 

“You’re happy?” You say but it sounded more like a question, terrified that this question is going to ruin the moment

He lifts his head, “so happy. I’m scared as hell. But I can’t believe it…I’m so happy�� 

January 2015

Three months pregnant and trying to plan a wedding was not something I planned. I never imagined I’d end up having to do both on my own. 

“You what?” You shout 

“Leave at the end of the month” he’s pacing in the kitchen. Your arms crossed leaning against the counter 

“You said you were free for a while. That you got to stay home” you continue to watch him “we were planning for a summer wedding” 

“I know, but you know I don’t control this” he shakes his head, he’s just as angry but knows there is nothing he can do about it

“It’s not fair” you try to fight back a tear

He wraps his arms around you, bringing you close to his body.  Kissing your forehead and you lean into him. Resting your head on his shoulder. They have already taken him away for so long, you were just starting to plan the rest of your lives together.  You knew you would still have to share him with his career once you were married, but you wished that they would at least let you enjoy some time with him before getting called back to action. 

“I know, look, I would marry you tomorrow if you want to.  But I know you had your heart set on that little church in the mountains” his hands rub up and down your back, “I want that too, but I also don’t mind having a small wedding.  Making you a Morales, then a bigger wedding when I get home” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“At the courthouse, you sure?” he asks, his thumbs rubbing circular motions over your growing stomach.

It may not have been idea for the wedding, and you were right.  I did have my heart set on that little church in the mountains we drove by when going to the cabin.  But, Frankie. I would marry you over and over again.  It doesn’t matter the time, the place, the dress or who is there. I just need you.

A small wedding at the courthouse, has you standing in front of your shared closet wrapped in your fuzzy robe having no idea what to wear. You had finished your shower, letting Frankie take his while you got dressed.  Otherwise you both know, you’d never make it in time for your appointment. Hanging the dress back up that you just spent 10 minutes looking at, you take a deep breath, trying to not let the hormones take over and have you falling to your knees crying. Before you can fall apart, you feel a warm pair of arms wrap around you.  His chin resting on your shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks kissing your neck

“I have nothing to wear, nothing fits right” you sigh. 

Frankie spins you around, you see him in a black tux, hair styled, and he shaved again. His baby face on full display. It’s not fair you think. Guys don’t gain weight, their bodies don’t change, they don’t have to push out a human being and yet here you are almost 4 months pregnant and none of your clothes, at least the ones for a wedding don’t fit. 

His hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down. His eyes staring into yours. “You could just wear this, it will make ripping of off you later a lot easier for me” he smirks leaning in to kiss you 

“Shut up” you can’t help smile when his lips brush over yours, “maybe we just wait” 

“You're not getting cold feet on me, are you Mrs. Morales?” He asks 

“Not Mrs Morales yet…” you give a small smile 

He shrugs, “it’s a signature on a paper, you’ve been my Mrs. Morales since I said I love you and you said it back”

He looks behind you, reaching for a dress…the red dress. The same dress you wore the night Baby M was conceived, the same red dress you wore when he proposed. He always said he wasn’t romantic but the fact that it was this dress he reached for, he was. He was the most romantic in his own subtle ways. He holds it out, looking from you to the dress. A smile on his face. 

“I think you should wear this one” he puts the hanger over your head, letting the dress hang off your shoulders. Biting his bottom lip, he nods in approval “yup, this would be perfect” 

“It’s not much of a wedding dress” I say, he shrugs again “if I wear this, you hand to wear the red tie” 

It wasn’t the wedding you had pictured. You didn’t see yourself in a red dress, with a black jacket and a pair of black flats.  But the man standing in front of you was everything you had imagined. He was a vision in his black suit, white shirt and burgundy tie. Your hands in his, ‘I love you’ he mouths the words to you and you blink back tears. ‘I love you’ you mouth back to him. His thumb rubbing circles over the back of your hands. For the moment the world was perfect, you didn’t want to think what the Newport few days would be like. It was always hard enough saying good-bye to him. But saying good-bye this time was going to be nearly impossible. 

“…Baby” he whispers

You shake your head, not realizing you missed the important words, the only words you had to say today. “I do, Frankie. I do” you smile and he cups your cheek, leaning into his warm palm 

“Can I kiss her now?” His eyes remain locked onto yours, your tongue peeks out licking your bottom lips. He doesn’t wait for a yes before closing the distance. Lips molding to yours, bringing your body as close to him as possible. Your hands cup his face, holding him to you not wanting to let this feeling go. 

The day had been a whirlwind, everything falling into place effortlessly.  You don’t know how it was at all possible that Heather was able to throw together a small congratulations dinner. With the help of her chef husband, you would have thought that this was the plan all along. And at the moment, you were perfectly content with it.  Reaching into your purse you unlock the door and start to step through when you feel his hand around your wrist stopping you from moving forward. He carefully spins you to face him. 

“What are you doing?” you ask and he gently tugs you to him. 

He lifts the hand he’s holding, dropping it on his shoulder. “Frankie…no, Frankie” One arm wrapping around your waist, the other under your thighs. Picking you up. 

“It’s our wedding and I’m carrying you over the threshold” he kisses your cheek

He carries you into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. You expect that he is going to set you down now that you are in the house, but instead he makes his way to the staircase, “where are you going?” you ask already knowing the answer

“Upstairs”

Three months pregnant and you know not only were you showing, but you know you had started to gain more weight.  Frankie is strong, he has to be, but the thought of him trying to carry you up the stairs but an uneasy feeling in you. You know saying his name isn’t going to stop him, you’ve tried that already.  Already tried that a few times, so instead you do something that you know is distracting.

“Frankie…” you sigh, the hand that isn’t wrapped around his shoulder moving to cup his face.  Gently turning him to face you, “I love you” you smile before guiding his lips to yours.  Lips capturing his in a tender kiss. 

Eyes slowly opening, you lay in bed in that post sex daze, blinking a few times to let your senses come to.  You look over to Frankie’s spot in the bed and he has disappeared, how long had you been out, your hand brushes over the empty space it still feels warm to the touch.  From behind you, you can hear the running of water in the bathroom.  Throwing the sheets off your naked body, you move to the door and slowly push it open.  Standing there Frankie bent over the tub, testing the water on his hands pouring out the facet making sure it is the perfect temperature. Reaching across the tub he grabs your favorite bubble bath. The smell of eucalyptus and lavender start to fill the room.  You lean against the door frame, a smile spreads across your face as you watch the man you are madly in love with take care of you.

After pouring a generous amount of the liquid, bubbles start to form.  Feeling accomplished, Frankie turns his head down; he nearly falls backwards in the tub when he looks up seeing you standing in the doorway. “Shit…estrella!” he says “you scared the shit outta me.  How long have you been standing there?”

You grin, knowing there was no way you could possibly scare a highly trained Delta Force member.  Walking towards him, pretending to look around him at his hand work, “is that for me?” you ask moving closer to his outstretched arms. 

“Maybe…” he smirks wrapping you in his arms when you get close enough “...I wanted to let you rest” he places a kiss to your forehead

“Would you join me?” you ask, squeezing your arms around him   

The water’s cooling around your bodies.  You’re back pressed against Frankie’s chest.  Head fitting perfectly against his shoulder while his hands rub up and down your arms, placing soft butterfly kisses to your exposed shoulder. “I don’t know what I did to have you fall in love with me, but I thank everything for that” he kisses you again, your head tilting towards him and hand cupping his face. 

“You really wanna know?” you ask, fingers under his jaw tilting his face up to look at you, he nods his head yes, “the day you crashed into me at the grocery store with your schweddy balls”

“I must definitely did not crash into you…” he chuckles, “it was a blind corner, and the cart did what it wanted” he smile at you exposing that dimple that you love so much

“Mhmm sure….” you roll your eye at him, “well then when you didn’t crash into me…you were so sweet and kind. Despite just meeting I felt like you had been someone I had known my whole life after finishing our shopping trip together. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew I wanted to see you again. I wanted to hear you talk more, I like listening to you talk” he gives you a sheepish smile and your hand wraps around his. “Our first date…our first real date as you call it”

“The dinner and the beach?” he asks 

“It wasn’t the dinner, to be honest.  It was walking with you along the beach after.  When I told you about my Dad, and you didn’t run. That night, when you kissed me and I swear the world stopped for just a brief second.  It sounds cliche but I don’t care I was falling in love with you Frankie, and it terrified me.  The moment I knew it was real, and that I had fallen…when I told you I was a virgin and you took your time.  You didn’t rush me, you made me feel perfect…and I know I don’t have much to compare you too, but I swear Frankie I don’t think anyone would or could treat me better than you do.  Despite this rough exterior, you are the most romantic, caring, selfless man I have ever met.  And I am so glad it was you, that it is you”

A single tear falls from Frankie’s eye, you lean forward catching the falling droplet with your lips. “Frankie, I love you so much and I am the lucky one.  I am so fucking lucky that you picked me, you could have any girl out there and I am lucky enough that I get to call you mine” 

He leans his forehead against yours, “I love you” he whispers “I knew from the minute I saw you” 

“When you didn’t crash into me?” you bite your lip trying to hold back a smile

He shakes his head, “no…” you pull away, your eyes widen looking at him “it was when you and Heather were shopping. She was holding up two melons asking you which one you liked. The way you laughed, it lit up the entire supermarket.  It was a sound I wanted to hear again, if sounded like home” 

“Frankie…” you sigh

“It sounds fucking crazy, I know. Then we started to hang out, talk more and I started falling and falling hard. I was terrified, I knew I was never going to be good enough for you. I didn’t do relationships, I did one night…maybe two. I always left because I didn’t want to get hurt, I didn’t want them to get hurt. With you, I knew I would find a way to fuck it up and breaking your heart was the last thing I would have ever wanted to do. But each time I pushed away, you wouldn’t let me…you showed me that true love can win.  That true love is worth fighting for. I thought saying those three words for the first time my heart was going to beat out of my chest I was so scared, but now…with you those three words are the easiest thing to say” he leans forward, kissing you with as much passion as he can, showing you just how much you mean to him. “I love you…I love you so fucking much and I am the luckiest man not in the world, but in the universe, in the galaxy whatever you want to be able to call you my love…my life…my wife” 

You can’t help the tears that are flowing now, you wipe them away and try to smile the best you can as the water works continue. “That should have been your proposal…” you grin 

“Can we tell people thats what I said, and maybe not tell them it was when I was…”

“Nope” you interrupt him, “the way you did is the most Frankie way” 

The closer we get to you leaving, the harder and harder it becomes. I know it’s not your choice, and if you could you would stay. But watching you want this as much as I do, that you are trying to make the most of every minute it is making saying ‘goodbye’ that much harder 

The next few weeks went by in a blur, between work schedules, changing all legal documents into your new last name and finding matching wedding bands you hardly had spent any quality time with your new husband. It was Saturday night, and he left on Monday. You lay in bed, it was early evening, Frankie laying next to you with a hand on your stomach. Hoping to feel the baby move.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he moves his hand around your stomach

“Trying to feel her” he says. His palm flat on your stomach moving from the bottom to the sides, to the top “I wanna feel her before I leave”

“Hate to tell you this, but you're about a month early for that.  And what do you mean by her?” you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him move his hand around more.  Smiling slightly when you see him stick out his tongue in determination 

“Yes her, it’s a baby girl I can feel it” he looks up at you, giving you puppy dog eyes and devilish grin

You move your left hand, taking his chin under your fingers and guiding him towards you for a sweet kiss. He lays you down on the pillows, deepening the kiss.  His tongue slipping past your lips, his kiss making you see stars like only he knew how. He swallows your moan when he slips a hand under your shorts, working his way down. He knew the thought of sex was still the last thing on your mind, but he wanted to spend his last few moments at home, in his home. In his favorite place to be. Inside, buried in you. 

His fingers dip lower, swiping through your folds, finding you already wet. You feel the smile on his lips as he teases you. Grabbing his wrist and breaking this kiss, “mmm no, I want you to remind me how you got the name Catfish, Morales” you say breathlessly and his eyes widen. “Then I want you inside me till you have to go” 

“Yes ma’am” 

Your legs quiver while he continues to fuck you with his tongue. His mouth was just as magical as his fingers. You wish you could see him, your thighs push together, his hands pushing them apart. Keeping them against the bed, he wanted you open to him. 

“Oh, yes, yes…shit. Fraaaaaankie” you moan. Your eyes rolling back into your head. Hands clutching at the sheets. You know he’s loving watching you come undone. You wish you could see him and the hunger you know that is in his eyes. The orgasm breaks you, you scream his name, tilting your head back against the pillows. The world is on fire in the best way possible. 

Frankie drinks everything you have to give, not letting a drop go to waste. He rests his head on your thigh. Eyes fixed on your fluttering hole, gentle stroking your other thigh. Your hands releasing their tight grip on the sheets and running through his now much shorter hair. You feel him smile against your leg. 

He carefully works his way back up towards you, laying on his side next to you. “I didn’t say you were dismissed Soldier” he stares at you for a moment “now take off your clothes and get back to work” 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hur….” he starts and you sit up. Wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him to you. Crashing your lips to his tasting yourself on him. He closes his eyes, a hand holding the back of your head. Keeping you close to him. He takes a deep breath reluctantly pulling away, “you have to let me know if it’s uncomfortable. Please…” 

You nod, forehead resting against his. Your nose next to his. Biting your bottom lip, you reach for the hem of his gray ribbed tank top. Pulling it up and over his head, tossing it behind him. “Please, I need you” 

Looing for other great work by me check out my Masterlist

-or-

Looking for more Pedro Pascal Character fics be sure to check out @littlemisspascal library for all things Pedro including their fics

[compacflt]

wow very cool. as a european i am learning a lot about the us navy and defense and everything from your blog haha! idk if you've answered this before but what made you wanna work in defense?

Russia invading ukraine on my birthday lol. though i was always interested in military history/military fiction even as a kid. that was just the watershed moment for me personally

i don’t want to work IN defense though. I want to write ABOUT defense. still not sure what that looks like exactly for me. move to DC definitely. maybe get a position at one of the twenty trillion trade publications there are around here. Or comms job, govt job, journalism job… not sure. hopefully i will figure it out ! would love to write fiction for a living but im realistic enough to know that’s an oxymoron

(Also, side note, i am very flattered, & i know i say this somewhat often but i feel the need to repeat it every once in a while… please don’t take anything i say on this blog / ESPECIALLY in my writing as fact. i misrepresent stuff and get stuff wrong all the time, sometimes on purpose for story reasons. I try my best but i simply lack experience & worldview and have spent functionally zero time being an Adult or having to deal with Adult topics [still do not know what a 401k is!]. for instance if you even mention the words “security clearance” or “congressional confirmation hearing” in the general vicinity of my fics, the plot, nay, the entire CONCEPT, goes up in flames, as i discuss in this post. i really appreciate this comment don’t get me wrong But there are definitely better/more accurate places to learn about these topics than a 20y.o. A&D intern who is only just beginning their career & is still confused about many of the basics of real life. I have a lot of growing up still left to do & you really don’t have to listen to me)

[number-one-crush]

LF DoL M!LIxF!PC RP! (w/ me as the LIs and you as the PC!)

What an absolute fucking MESS of a title that is, lmaoooo TT

ASSORTED WARNINGS: 22+!! TW: dead dove and shit, it’s Degrees of Lewdity, please be careful people who don’t know what that is!

Hey (maybe future) friends! I’ve recently gotten into DOL and have been pretty obsessed with it lately. It’s got all the things I love, and by all the things I love, I mostly mean: EVERYONE LOVES ONE PERSON AND NO ONE IS HAPPY ABOUT IT and TOXIC FUCKING OBSESSIVE RELATIONSHIPS. So, without further ado…

THE PREMISE:

My favorite characters by far are Whitney and Kylar. I imagine I’d also probably really like Eden, too, but I actually haven’t really tried anything with him yet, and honestly, as much as he sounds like a real catch, I just really, really thrive off all the jealous drama between Whitney, Kylar, Sydney and Robin at school.

So like, I’d really like to RP that. And by that, I mean that I’d like to write Whitney and Kylar… and to a lesser extent, (mostly for drama) Robin and Sydney, as being wildly in love with and obsessed with your PC so we can explore the absolute mess of a fall out that inevitably causes. :v

My favorite thing to do with characters I love is to write for them: there’s something really fun about getting into that headspace and exploring the way they feel and how they’d behave, and I love it. I could write fanfiction, and I can’t lie: the temptations have been there! But honestly, it’s hard for me to motivate myself writing fanfiction when the chance to write against someone else and geek out over the absolute fucking disaster-nonsense our characters get up to together is so much more fun. ):

SO: DETAILS! 

I really only do MxF, with me playing the LIs as dudes and you playing the PC as a lady. Sorry for any other pairing combination, I just wouldn’t have the same inspiration to write for other configurations. ): I’m not going to tell you how your PC should look or really behave, and I look forward to hearing about her from you! I love getting excited about other peoples’ OCs!

I’ve got headcanons for the boys (which are pretty typical, honestly!), but I am of course open to input from you on what you’d like to see, too. :> 

Since this is DOL, obvious content warnings apply! Noncon/dubcon, abusive and messed-up situations… they pretty much come with the territory, though I’m not looking to make anyone uncomfy and I’ve got no problem toning some things down or ratcheting things up based on what you do or don’t feel comfy with! I’d like to feel comfortable talking OOC to make sure everyone feels okay about stuff. 

Which brings my rambling to my next point: DOL is obviously a sex game and I’m not opposed to raw smut or anything. But what I miss from the game is the emotional turmoil and fucked up sense of longing – and an obvious desire to possess PC – that I feel Kylar and even Whitney are drowning in. We get to see their actions, but not their thoughts, and I really want to do this to develop and dwell on those feelings! I want to see them and the PC involved in situations (fucked up as they are) that allow those things to really flourish and shine. I am an absolute slut for deep, anguished, sometimes violent obsession in characters… I just think getting to explore that is SUPER sexy in fiction, so maybe expect a like 80/20 plot to smut ration. Maybe 70/30? I feel like the smut hits a LOT harder if you’ve got a lot of pent up feelings behind it. 

Honestly, I don’t even NEED smut, but like, it’s DOL, so it kinda feels like it comes with the territory? Your girl here really lives the tumultuous, angsty emotional foreplay, whoops. ): I just really wanna write a bunch of really fucked up dudes falling in love with PC – bullying her, stalking her, meekly trying to protect her… you get the vibe!

ANYWAY, some things I’d hope for/need from you!:

+ Absolutely, positively, with no exceptions, you need to be like, middish twenties or older. I’m older myself and I absolutely have no desire to interact with teenagers. No offense to teenagers, you all can make great writers – just as someone who is absolutely not a teenager, it’s just what I’m comfortable with. Even if the subject matter wasn’t super-ultra-fucked, I wouldn’t feel comfy with it.

+ I’d like someone who understands that, as an adult, I have a job and a partner and a relatively active social life with my (one) good friend, so I will probably manage a post or two a day, sometimes a post every two! It might be more than that if I really get into the vibe, but ya know…

+ I like to be descriptive when I write, somewhere between pretentious-fuckoffery and wordy-but-functional. Sometimes I’ll do a few paragraphs… sometimes, I really get into it and it can be a couple pages. I tend to be reactive to what is needed for a scene: flashy back-and-forth dialogue is gonna make for shorter posts, but sometimes I really like getting into my character’s headspace and waxing poetic about how much they want their love interest for like, a few paragraphs or more. I’d like someone who can at least manage a few paragraphs! One liner stuff does nothing to me; I want to be able to feel like my characters have a reason to WANT your character, so I need something to work with! Please have a pretty good grasp of grammar and what not, too! Obviously stylistic choices can make for some fun grammar fuckery, and I’m not about to judge for some spelling errors, but like, please please have a pretty good grasp of writing! I live for good writing partners. ):

+ TENSE/POV: I am not super picky, but I admit I love the present tense second person of the game. As someone who was super into Homestuck, that shit just jives with me. That said, I’m open to a lot of different things, just absolutely NO FIRST PERSON. I cannot stand it in RP, it really takes me out. We can hash it out!

+ The ability to advocate for yourself OOC! The subject matter is icky, and I don’t want to traumatize anyone. We don’t need to be best OOC friends, but I hope we can feel comfortable with each other enough to hash things out outside of RP so we can both feel okay with whatever is going on! I’d also really like to just be able to gush about our characters OOC, please! TT Like, let’s be dumb and make playlists and pinterests, ahhhhhh! If you got a song you got that reminds you of things, PLEASE TELL ME, I wanna be a total fucking nerd about our fucked up children!

+ Discord! I tend to use discord to RP because servers make things easier to organize! Please use it! I don’t really like using anything else, womp womp. ):

So! If you’ve read all that, and you’re interested, please hmu here on Tumblr! I hate the ask/messaging system here, so like, you can just drop me some info on your PC and maybe your discord handle via one of those, and we can move to Discord to see if we’d make good RP partners! 

Thanks a bunch and looking forward to hearing from you! 

PS: Please excuse the Dabi theme-ing, I’m too lazy to change my very basic theme-ing. I love love fucked up dudes, and I cannot lie.

[hopinglylost3214]

Helloooo! First off, hust found your blog and it honestly perked me up from a serious funk, so thank you for that 😊 Second, I don’t know if you’re still answering that tickle ask post, but if you are, here are the ones I wanted to ask! (If it’s too many, you can choose which ones you wanna answer, I just liked em all so much 🤣)

4. What would be your entrance music?

5. Can you think of a fictional character you think would make a good lee?  Can you think of a fictional character you think would make a good ler?

6. What's one topic you could talk about endlessly?

12. What, in your opinion, is 10/10 fiction? (It could be a TV series, movie, book, game, or anything.)

13. Are there any tools you'd like to be tickled with? Are there any tools you'd like to tickle someone with?

17. What do you think about having music in the background while being tickled? What do you think about having music in the background while tickling someone?

19. What puts you in a lee mood? What puts you in a ler mood? 

21. How did you come up with your Tumblr username?

23. What was the most recent tickle scenario or tickle fantasy you thought about?

24. What do you prefer between a cold day and a hot day?

25. Do you ever have tickle dreams?

27. Tickle interrogation, yes or no?

28. What do you like to do to comfort yourself?

30. What, in your opinion, is a 10/10 song?

Hello, I'm really happy to hear you enjoyed my blog!

As for the questions, I didn't expect to be the one answering, but I'll try my best lol. Glad you liked my questions though!

4. What would be your entrance music?

this one! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xx_2XNxxfA

5. Can you think of a fictional character you think would make a good lee?  Can you think of a fictional character you think would make a good ler?

Robin from One Piece would make a good ler. Her power is that she can manifest hands anywhere she wants

6. What's one topic you could talk about endlessly?

philosophy, I read quite a few philosophy books when I was a kid.

12. What, in your opinion, is 10/10 fiction? (It could be a TV series, movie, book, game, or anything.)

TV show: The Good Place

Game: Transistor(it's a game made by same people who made Hades)

Movie: Most recently, Everything Everywhere all at once, also Into the Spiderverse.

13. Are there any tools you'd like to be tickled with? Are there any tools you'd like to tickle someone with?

I think I'd like to try a brush of some sort. I want to know if it tickles like some people say it does.

17. What do you think about having music in the background while being tickled? What do you think about having music in the background while tickling someone?

I like the idea, but my playlist is like 50% sad songs, so probably gonna need music rec from the lee lol.

19. What puts you in a lee mood? What puts you in a ler mood? 

I identify as a ler, but I'm curious about being a lee in the sense that I want to know what I'm giving.

As for ler mood, I kind of want to say like, I'm always in one? kind of??

21. How did you come up with your Tumblr username?

My thought process was, "okay, let's come up with two-word combination that sounds vaguely deep, then add some numbers"

23. What was the most recent tickle scenario or tickle fantasy you thought about?

24. What do you prefer between a cold day and a hot day?

Cold day, all day every day. Hot and humid is one of the worst combinations.

25. Do you ever have tickle dreams?

Yes

27. Tickle interrogation, yes or no?

Yes. But in terms of doing it in a real life, I'd prefer it to be more playful than serious.

28. What do you like to do to comfort yourself?

Take a hot shower, that usually works, even though my showers are always hot ha. Or I guess, I just think about how I'm sad lol.

30. What, in your opinion, is a 10/10 song?

There are many many answers, but I'll just list two:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCphVz0ZGns

Thank you!