#and it would be awkward if the master just. immediately got a hold of that. very funny tho.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i cant decide what would be better tbh: either 11089 volunteers to stay behind to keep watch over donna post-memory wipe but they’re still human — even if from far in the future — and get Master-fied with everyone else and have to afterwards deal with the fact that they couldn’t help at all <3 OR. something Horrible happened along their travels with the doctor that means that they don’t really count as human anymore.

[hxney-lemcn]

Melting — Connor x gn! reader

summery: Reader and Connor are two lovesick fools who bond over being touch starved.

tw: descriptions of anxiety

a/n: Should I make another part? Or like a series of one shots with these two? I'm tempted if anyone is interested.

wc: 1.8k

Master List

“You comin old man?” I teased Hank as I stood beside his desk, Connor sitting across from him. I was going on break and I thought we’d all head out for lunch together like we normally did. 

“Nah, not today,” Hank waved me off. “Got more work than I know what to do with.” I frowned, glancing at Connor and assuming that meant he wouldn’t be able to join either. 

Having resigned myself to eating alone, I tapped Hank’s desk in acknowledgement, “Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” I smiled at the two and Connor seemed a bit conflicted, eyes darting between Hank and I. Deciding to ignore the odd mannerism, I went to turn away.

“Connor, why don’t you go with them,” Hank offered. “I’ll hold down the fort, but don’t forget to get me something.”

“Are you-” Connor was going to ask, eyebrows furrowed, but was quickly cut off.

“Yes!” Hank exclaimed. “Go before I change my mind.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor thanked, a warm smile blessing his face. Whoever made him so handsome needed a raise. Well, Cyberlife is now controlled by androids but y’know what I mean. Connor’s warm gaze fell onto me and I swear my heart skipped a beat. I averted my eyes, his stare too intense for my poor heart. 

“C’mon,” I motioned him to follow me. He was out of his chair in less than a second, walking next to me and matching my pace. 

My nerves felt alight, not normally alone with the android. I tried to calm down my racing mind, scolding myself for not only thinking of my friend, but my coworker as such. I fiddled with the ring I wore, scolding myself for my inappropriate thoughts. But was it really so wrong to want to hold his hand? 

“Are you alright?” Connor asked, and I turned to face him, not realizing that he had just scanned me. “You are showing signs of anxiety.” His furrowed brow and concerned look never failed to make me melt. 

Having a topic to speak on, I felt myself calm slightly and nudged Connor lightly with my elbow, smiling lightly, “You know I’m an anxious person. But I’m good.”

His frown worsened, the hair that always fell out of place falling just a tad bit farther with the tilt of his head, “Is there anything I can do to help prevent it from happening?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so used to it that I don’t even notice it much. That’s unless it gets really bad, but I’ve been getting better.” Connor pursed his lips, his concerned gaze swirled with frustration. “I mean being with people I know helps comfort me. And when it gets really bad, it helps if I can…kinda cling to them?” I finished in more of a questioning tone, hating the vulnerability it made me feel to admit that. I stared at the concrete as we continued to walk to the nearest fast food restaurant. 

“You can hold my hand if that would make you feel more comfortable,” Connor offered, and when I looked at him in shock, he had his hand extended out to me. My heart pounded faster. Immediately my mind started to romanticize the situation and I couldn’t stop it, even though I knew this had to be strictly platonic. There’s no way it wasn’t…

The kind smile he had turned to a frown, “Your anxiety is increasing…”

“Sorry,” I apologized for no reason really, I suppose for making him think I hate him? I suppose my anxiety really is increasing. “I’m just…I…I don’t mind, I haven’t really held hands with someone in a long time, or hugged, or…I’m rambling, sorry.”

His frown turned into an awkward smile, “You don’t have to apologize. I haven’t held anyone's hand before, so this is a new experience for me as well.” 

Squeezing my hands, I rubbed my right hand on my pants before reaching my hand out. Connor met my hand halfway and I hoped he ignored the sweat gathering on my palms once more. His hand was surprisingly warm, although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, not to mention soft. Finally reaching the restaurant, Connor opened the door for me and I thanked him. 

He followed me as I went straight to the self-serve kiosk. It was busier than I was used to, and I didn’t even realize that I moved closer to the brown haired man that was also very handsome and very much holding my hand. We both ordered, and waited in line for our numbers to be called. I glanced over to Connor, only to find him already staring at me. 

“Are you scanning me again?” I joked lightly. 

“Even though we are in a crowded place, which seems to usually trigger your anxiety, your stress levels are surprisingly low,” Connor stated, confusion laced in his warm gaze.

“I’ve got you with me,” I replied without even thinking of the implications. Instead I just grinned at him, unaware of how he was becoming increasingly flustered. I glanced at the screen that showed off the order numbers, and noticed ours both were getting closer. 

“Excuse me,” Someone grunted, pushing past me. Which in turn caused me to press closer to Connor. 

Connor ran a diagnostic scan, wondering why he felt like his internal fans were going to explode. It came up all good, which led him to thinking about what Hank brought up earlier. 

“You haven’t noticed them touching you more lately?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.

Connor had noticed it, quite a bit actually. The small touches to his arm, the nudges, or even when they tried to rest their arm on his shoulder jokingly. He always looked at that last example fondly, especially when he was 6’ compared to their shorter height. 

“All their affection reads as platonic, does it not?” Connor asked, curious as ever. 

“You don’t see them hiding their laughter into my shoulder, do you?” Hank asked rhetorically. 

“No,” Connor replied anyway, led blinking yellow in thought. “So you’re saying they may have a romantic interest in me?”

Hank shrugged, clearly losing interest in the subject the more questions Connor asked obliviously, “I don’t know kid, why don’t you ask them yourself?”

Connor blinked back into reality as I called his name, his thirium pump seeming to beat faster as his name tumbled from my lips.

“Your number was called,” I said as I finally seemed to grab his attention, pushing him towards the counter. 

“R-right,” Connor stuttered lightly, embarrassed he was caught in such a daze. 

“Let’s get out of here,” I grumbled as we both got the food we ordered. 

“Of course,” Connor nodded, guiding me out of the crowded restaurant. Arm protectively wrapped around my shoulder. I didn’t mind being pressed into his side once more. My hand clung to his jacket as we continued to squeeze past people. Once we finally got outside, I let out a relieved breath, glad to be out of that packed room. 

“Would you like to eat outside?” Connor asked. It was a nice day, the warm sun beating down on the cool spring air. People bustled about, enjoying the nice turn of the weather.

“I don’t want Hank’s food to get cold,” I frowned, drawing away slightly from Connor’s side as his arm dropped to his side once more.

“I’m sure he would understand,” He replied.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Is this the same Hank we’re talking about?”

Connor joined in on my laughter, “How about we drop it off first, to be safe.” I agreed, the walk back to the precinct much lighter than the earlier tension. Was it tension or just my anxiety? Who knows. 

I took in a deep breath as a small breeze blew past. I ate a fry, watching the flowers dance in the wind to a song only they could hear. The sounds of birds chirping, people talking, and Connor flipping a coin filled the air. 

“Is the food to your liking?” Connor asked, breaking the silence. 

I looked over to him, the coin firmly held between two fingers, and shrugged, “It’s alright. What you’d expect from fast food.” 

I loved watching Connor do his little coin tricks, it became a habit to soothe his nerves. It was interesting watching him gain his own habits, becoming his own person. I remember asking why he knew how to do coin tricks, only for him to explain it was to help him calibrate his software.

As I finished my lunch, I watched as the coin rolled over the back of his fingers. Flicking it to his other hand, only to roll it between his fingers. His movement was so smooth, fluid. I can only imagine the million ways I’d fumble and lose the quarter. 

“Do you want to try?” Connor asked, offering the coin to me. I broke out of my spaced out state and stared at him like an idiot. 

“If I tried I’d find a way to accidentally fling it into the ocean,” I joked with a bright smile. 

“The probability of you…oh, that was a joke,” Connor fumbled, and I noticed that his cheeks turned a light blue. Oh my god I didn’t know androids could blush! That’s actually really cool, and I wonder how that even works. 

I laughed lightly at his fumble, “It’s okay, Connor. Besides, I leave the coin tricks for the professionals.” I winked, and then immediately panicked. Why the hell did I wink? God I must’ve looked so lame, but…why was his blue blush more prominent? And why is it so pretty? 

Blue was a good color on him. I thought that when he wore his old outfit that cyberlife fitted him with, and I still think it now. I glanced at my watch, noticing our break was almost over. I let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto his side, causing him to hold his arm out in confusion before placing it around me gently.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I don’t mean to  make you uncomfortable.” I was so comfortable with him that I didn’t even realize how this may be uncomfortable for him. It was so weird, because one minute I’d be overthinking our interactions, and then the next I wouldn’t be thinking at all. 

Before I could get up or continue to overthink, Connor spoke hurriedly, “It’s alright, you can lean on me if you’d like.” 

“We should probably get back to work,” I grumbled, leaning my head back on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through my body at his warm touch. It was such a nice feeling, I was scared to grow used to it because I wasn’t sure if it’d always be available to me. 

“We have a few more minutes,” Connor murmured back, hearing his voice so close to my ear, slightly startling me. 

Calming a bit from the slight scare, I let out a soft hum, closing my eyes. Such a peaceful moment. If only it could last forever.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello lovely I hope this enough for a request but I was wondering if you would write a fic for Hunter x Jedi!Reader around season one. Hunter has the start of a crush on reader but once omega comes into the picture and he sees how good reader is with her he knows he needs to ask her out! Feel free to change whatever, I hope you like the idea!

I Will Protect You

Hunter x Reader

Summary- As a defective Jedi you are reassigned to The Bad Batch. How can you resist Hunter? Especially when he confesses after seeing how good you are with Omega.

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I LOVED this idea! I've contemplated doing something similar in the past, so I am so glad you requested this!

Word Count- 1,679

You remember being assigned to Clone Force 99 like it was yesterday. The day you were considered a 'defective' Jedi. While you were skilled in the force and an expert in wielding a lightsaber- you got attached.

In a mission gone wrong, you sacrificed yourself for your Jedi master. She was entirely grateful. Even though you made a full recovery, the Empire was not happy. Claiming you shouldn't have those 'emotional tendencies.'

You understood the purpose of severing all relationships, trying to only be one with the force. Emotions just came naturally to you! Connecting with all kinds of people, acting motherly to the less fortunate, and trying to be there for all of the clones.

The final straw for The Empire was when you were caught holding a small ceremony for a few fallen Clones. A fellow Jedi, you once called brother, turned you in.

You were immediately reassigned to Clone Force 99- labeled 'Defective.'

That was the same day you met Hunter. The first thing you noticed was his face tattoo, how attractive it looked. The skull covering half his face tickled your curiosity. You never had the courage to ask him about it, the whole 'don't get attached or you'll get reassigned' circled your mind.

You quickly grew to love Force 99. They accepted you, treated you like a human being. Not just a force wielder, something you'd never had. Despite your vow and upbringing, you considered them all to be your family.

Just under a year had gone by when Order 66 went out. You noticed how protective Hunter could be. He fought off droids, clones, and anyone who tried to harm you.

Not many knew of your Jedi background, allowing you to go into somewhat of a stealth mode. You acquired new gear, matching your team's. With a helmet on around others- your identity and life were safe. Though, you and Crosshairs friendship wavered...

The weight of your life always being at steak rested on you heavily. You couldn't sleep anymore, having gone days with low or no rest..

"Hunter, can we talk?" You asked him in the cockpit.

"Of course, what happened?" He looked worried.

Tech, however, does not even look up from his position as pilot.

"Uh, Tech, can we have a moment?" You asked, feeling a little guilty for making him leave.

Now he does look up, pressing some kind of 'auto-pilot' button. "Sure."

Great, now you already felt awkward.

"Look, I think I should go.." You got straight to the point. It hurt too much to draw it out.

Hunter's face fell, he was not expecting that. Though, a little part of you appreciated he cared so much.

"W-what?" He stepped closer to you.

"I just, well I just think it's for the best..." You fiddled with your fingers. The force felt moody, like something was off.

"Did something happen? Did Crosshair say anything! I swear I-"

"No, no. Nothing like that I promise!" You took the last step separating you. You were inches apart now.

"Did I do something?" He whispered, knowing he couldn't forgive himself if he did.

"No, I don't think there's anything you could do to make me turn from you." You whispered back, like a secret.

"Then what?" He softly asked.

You looked at the floor, unwilling to face him now. "I can't be the reason you guys are attacked. The Empire is after all Jedi's. You are all at risk if I am here..."

He, with the lightest touch, listed your chin up with a finger. "That doesn't matter... You're safest with us. You can't leave. Damn if the rest of us are in danger, I don't care. We will protect you. I won't let anyone take you." His voice was husky, he meant every word.

You didn't know how to respond, you were awestruck. Your legs felt like jello. All of your training out the window. You hadn't a thought except for him. Everything was suddenly him.

You just nodded, leaning further into his touch. Almost in a trance. You desperately craved his lips on yours. Just an inch forward and they'd be yours. So close-

A beeping made you gasp and pull away. Tech storming back in to the cockpit, taking his respective seat.

"Sorry to interrupt. We are about to land on Kamino."

You panted still, the exchange leaving you flustered. He eyed you, searching for any kind of rejection from you. Neither of you spoke with Tech in the room, you just looked at him with your head in the sky. You were unbelievably happy.

Unfortunately, you and Hunter were yet to bring that moment up again. Things kind of went back to normal, as you all got increasingly busy. Losing Crosshair and gaining Omega was a stressful time, you didn't have a second alone with Hunter. Even if you did want it more than anything.

Luckily, you had a calling to Omega. She was the sweetest girl you'd ever met, her positivity was inspiring.

You spent a lot of time with her, bonding especially when there was down time in-between missions. You also picked up on Hunters defensive and protective nature with her. He was undeniably acting as a father would.

"Yes, bullseye!" You jumped up and gave Omega a high-five. She was getting better everyday with her energy bow.

She laughed and bounced giddily.

"Now, lets see if you can hit a moving object." You encouraged her.

The two of you were far enough from the city to be hidden. You moved a small cart and a few bricks with the force. It slowly moved back and forth. It was hard concealing the powers you learned as a Jedi, but you soon adapted. Using the force less frequently as time went on.

She took a deep breath, inhaling as she pulled the bow string back. Just as she let the arrow go, it went flying past the target.

"Aw." She was visibly upset, not realizing how different moving targets were.

"Hey, it's okay. You should have seen me trying to move an object for the first time. It took me days to even lift a pebble." You proved your point by lifting a nearby stone up. "I still struggle sometimes..." You purposefully dropped the piece.

"You're so cool... I wish I was a Jedi! Then I wouldn't have to learn how to use an Energy Bow. I could just use my mind!" She made silly gestures. Moving a hand out to pretend she was wielding the force.

You smiled at her, deciding to shield her from the horrors of your childhood.

"I think an Energy Bow is just as cool. If not cooler!" You assured her.

"If you think so." She grumbled out, but ready to pull the string back again.

You sighed. "I think that's enough practice for today. It's getting late, honey." The sky was getting dark.

She looked displeased, "Why don't you go find Wrecker and get some dinner?"

She brightened up at this. "I'll save some for you too!"

You watched her as a mother would, making sure she was by Wreckers side before turning away.

"I can feel you staring." You announced, cleaning up the mess you and Omega made while training.

Footsteps were now heard as Hunter revealed himself. "Sorry." He acted as if you caught him doing something bad.

"Oh, I don't mind. I know you're just trying to keep Omega safe. Care to help?" You asked, bending down to place the brick back where they were found.

He walks to you, crouching to help. "Not just Omega." He says, lifting a few bricks.

"Hmm?"

"You as well." This made you blush lightly.

"Thank you, you know you'd make a really good father, right? Omega really looks up to you." You proclaimed, making sure Hunter knew his worth.

He stiffened, the words hitting his heart. "If anything she looks up to you. You're so good with her. It's..." He seemed to have regretted his choice of yours, continuing with- "You just always know what to say and do."

"It's what?" You asked, not letting him change the subject.

With a sigh he starts, "It's one of the reasons I love you so much." Another shift in the force, your heart thumping loud.

You stood, turning to him. A sense of Deja Vu rushed over you. To that day on the ship, the moment that was never resolved.

"You do?" You asked. Love was a feeling you were never supposed to feel as a Jedi.

"Have I not been clear? I live and breathe you..."

A flutter rests in your stomach. A sharp thrill reaching lower.

You walk to him, chest almost touching. "I don't think we finished what we started in the cockpit..." He declared, voice deep.

You shook your head. "No, we didn't. Are you going to make that up to me?" You spoke smug, but knew you'd melt at his touch.

"Only if you'll allow me..." A hand brushed against your forearm, resting there.

"Yes, of course..." He leaned down, his other hand now cupping your face.

He stopped just before his lips touched yours. "There won't be any going back." He whispered.

You didn't speak, only pushing yourself flush to him. It forced your lips to meet.

It was clumsy, you'd never done anything like this before. The Jedi code was very strict. You wondered if he had been with anyone else in that moment.

All of a sudden insecure over something you've yearned for.

Your thoughts were crushed with is next words, "You're perfect. So, so perfect." You turned a new shade of red, deeper and deeper.

"Watching you with Omega... Made me realize." He stopped, opting to kiss you once again.

You complied. He wrapped a hand around your waist, bringing you as close as you could be. Your arms lifted around his neck.

You pulled your head back slightly to breathe, "And what is that?"

"That I should ask this beautiful woman out." He stated, looking for your response.

"You didn't even have to ask..."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I loved writing this one, I hope you liked it!! It's like 1 am, so i'll come back and edit this when i'm not tired xD!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[nofomogirl]

Good Omen's problem with having two canons

They're fundamentally different. That's the problem. That's my point.

For quite a while I focused almost exclusively on the new season of Good Omens, but now I am slowly delving into analysis that takes the entire show into account, and I've encountered a little obstacle. Namely, things from S1 can be really tricky to interpret.

Fair warning: this post is going to zig-zag between various points but I want you to trust me and take this scenic route with me. It will take us somewhere eventually, I promise.

The Arrangement

It's one of the core elements in the Good Omens universe and at the same time a perfect example of the issue I want to discuss. So let's have a closer look together.

In the book, the Arrangement is presented to us in two passages:

the first one, where it is first - very briefly - mentioned:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be.

and the second one, where it is properly introduced and explained:

The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact, that it didn't really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other's activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary. (...) And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It'd get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.

In the show, the Arrangement is presented to us in two original scenes in the cold opening of S1E3:

(I am quoting most relevant dialogues only)

537 AD, Wessex:

C: So we're both working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out? A: Well, you could put it like that. It is a bit damp. C: Be easier if we both stayed home. If we just send messages back to our head offices saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it? A: But that would be lying. C: Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same. Cancel each other out. A: But my dear fellow... well, they'd check. Michael's a bit of a stickler. You don't want to get Gabriel upset with you. C: Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get paperwork they seem happy enough. As long as you're being seen doing something every now and again. A: No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. We're not having that conversation, not another word!

1601 AD, The Globe Theatre:

A: I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform. (...) C: I'm meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle. A: Doesn't sound like hard work. C: That's why I thought we should... Well, bit of a waste of effort, both of us going all the way to Scotland. A: You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer that you are implying. C: Which is? A: That just one of us goes to Edingburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting. C: We've done it before. Dozens of times now. The Arrangement- A: Don't say that! C: Our respective offices don't actually care how things get done. They just want to know they can cross it off the list.

S2 doesn't actually reference the Arrangement. But it does reuse the dialogue about free will where the 1020 date is dropped. We will get back to it.

The challenge of adapting Good Omens

Good Omens shares a certain characteristic with all of Terry Pratchett's solo books I've read - it couldn't care less about "showing instead of telling". Which I love, just to be clear. A book is a written medium. It's made with words and one of words' major strengths is that you can use them to just tell things point blanc.

Good Omens does it a lot and it's fantastic.

Look at that second passage from the book I quoted earlier.

From just those few sentences we learn a lot about the relationships between:

Heaven and Hell (opponents and competition)

Aziraphale and Crowley (two individuals in the same position and in direct contact with each other)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Heaven/Hell (field agent and a remote HQ that are not in direct contact)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Earth (two individuals and a space they live in)

Heaven/Hell and Earth (a board where the game is played, only winning or losing matters, what actually happens on a board does not)

It's really an extra condensed worldbuilding gem sprinkled with humor, so it's no surprise it's become one of the most iconic passages from the book.

I mean, just browse through some interviews with David and Michael - especially the ones from 2019 - where they explain what Aziraphale and Crowley are about. You'll be hard-pressed to find any where they don't reference that specific paragraph, consciously or otherwise.

But it's only this neat on the pages of the book, where narration like this takes mere seconds to absorb. It's impossible to convey the same information in a visual medium with anywhere near the same efficiency.

The fact that the majority of Good Omens is like this was, in my opinion, a main challenge the adaptation faced. The book is very narration-heavy. It's full of fun facts about characters, side jokes, hilarious comments, etc. Some of that precious material was salvaged by introducing God as a narrator, but there was only so much of it you could squeeze into a TV show. The rest had to either be fit into dialogues or lost in translation from the written medium to the visual one.

Obviously, in the case of the Arrangement, it was the dialogues.

Book canon and show canon

We all know they're not the same. Neil Gaiman also pointed it out several times. But I think our mistake is that we still tend to think about them as complementary.

Look at the Arrangement again. The show canon seems to merely expand on the book canon. Add extra details and fill in the blanks. The Arrangement works the exact same way, except now we also know more about how it started.

If we compile what we know from the book with what we know from the show, we get a more detailed timeline:

Crowley first proposes the Arrangement in 537 (show).

The Arrangement starts in 1020 (book), ie. Aziraphale finally agrees to it (show - deduction); we don't know for sure if it's a "basic version" (not getting in each other's way), or a "full version" (doing each other's jobs) but we can assume it's the former.

In 1601 "full version" of the Arrangement is in place for some time (they've done it dozens of times) but Aziraphale still objects and needs convincing.

But read that description from a book once more.

Does it really fit into the version of events shown in the TV series?

The Arrangement in the book is something that just happened. A natural, and in a way inevitable result of Aziraphale and Crowley's circumstances. We are never told who came up with it first because it doesn't matter. Because it could have been either of them. Because after five millennia on Earth, they were both ready to do it. They were both of the same mind. For all we know it might have been an unspoken agreement all along!

But for the show, the creators had to come up with a good reason for the Arrangement to be discussed out loud. And what could be a more natural situation for someone to describe and explain an idea than trying to sell that idea to someone else?

For that practical reason - among many others, no doubt - the Arrangement is not only explicitly Crowley's idea, but an idea Aziraphale vehemently rejects at first. He needs to be convinced and even when he finally relents he's never entirely comfortable with it. He keeps objecting and it requires Crowley's constant effort for them to keep cooperating in any way.

The fact that Aziraphale is reluctant gives Crowley a perfect reason to keep convincing him ie. talk about the Arrangement. But the fact that he needs to explain and keep convincing Aziraphale means that Aziraphale is no longer a person who understands the same things and feels the same way.

That is a huge change.

Of course, you may say that what I've written about the Arrangement in the book is just my interpretation. It's true that technically there's nothing there that would contradict the events from the show in any way. The thing is, the events in the show aren't very compatible with the overall characterization of the ineffable duo in the book.

Evolution of Aziraphale and Crowley

You might have read that our leading pair was originally conceived as a single character that Neil and Terry eventually decided to split into two separate individuals.

My reaction when I first learned about it was: "Of course they were! That makes so much sense!" Because honestly, as a person who watched the show first and then read the book, I was surprised at how few differences there were between the two in the original text. If you squint your eyes really tight, you can see how book!Aziraphale and book!Crowley are two versions of the same character. They're far more similar than their show versions.

Most importantly, their attitudes toward Heaven and Hell are pretty much identical. Perfectly mirrored in every regard. What Hell is for Crowley, Heaven is for Aziraphale. What Hell is for Aziraphale, Heaven is for Crowley. In. Every. Possible. Way.

Allow me to present some evidence from the book.

Exhibit #1: the end of the scene where Crowley convinces Aziraphale to interfere with Warlock's upbringing

'You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?' he said slowly. 'Potentially evil. Potentially good too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped,' said Crowley. He shrugged. 'Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that.' 'I suppose it's got to be worth a try,' said the angel. Crowley nodded encouragingly. 'Agreed?' said the demon, holding out his hand. The angel shook it, cautiously. 'It'll certainly be more interesting than saints,' he said. 'And it'll be for the child's own good, in the long run,' said Crowley. (...)

When Crowley first points out that good and evil are just names for sides, and then insists it's something they both know, Aziraphale doesn't react in any way. That's because these aren't things that book!Aziraphale disagrees with. He does indeed know it and doesn't deny it.

Also, please note just how cynical the angel is here with his comment that influencing the Antichrist would be a more interesting project than influencing saints!

Both would be rather OOC for show!Aziraphale.

Exhibit #2: the scene just after Warlock Dowling's birthday party, when it becomes evident he is not the Antichrist

'You said it was him!' moaned Aziraphale (...) 'It was him,' said Crowley. (...) 'Then someone else must be interfering.' 'There isn't anyone else! There's just us, right? Good and Evil. One side or the other.' He thumped the steering wheel. 'You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there,' he said. 'I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to you up there,' said Aziraphale. 'Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy,' said Crowley sourly. 'Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?' 'Sure' said the demon. 'There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-' 'I meant afterwards.' 'Oh.'

Can you imagine this kind of exchange in the TV series? Can you imagine show!Aziraphale being this realistic about Heaven, and show!Crowley so naive about it? There's no way.

Show!Aziraphale genuinely believes that Heaven is good at its core.

Book!Aziraphale knows Heaven isn't any different than Hell and would punish him just as ruthlessly and unfairly as Hell would Crowley.

Show!Crowley understands both Heaven and Hell on a very deep level and is highly aware of their true nature.

Book!Crowley buys a piece of celestial propaganda about ineffable mercy and actually expects Heaven to be forgiving.

Let the magnitude of that difference sink.

Exhibit #3: same scene, a bit further

'So all we've got to do is find it,' said Crowley. 'Go through the hospital records.' The Bentley's engine coughed into life and the car leapt forward, forcing Aziraphale back into the seat. 'And then what?' he said. 'And then we find the child.' 'And then what?' The angel shut his eyes as the car crabbed around the corner. 'Don't know.' 'Good grief.' 'I suppose (...) your people wouldn't consider (...) giving me asylum?' 'I was going to ask you the same thing. (...)'

This is just a cherry on top, really.

Yes, in the book, when things go pear-shaped, both Aziraphale and Crowley consider seeking asylum on the opposite side.

Do you need more proof that book canon and show canon really aren't as compatible as they may seem?

Free will

As promised, let's get back to that dialogue because while it may not be obvious at first glance it really illustrates perfectly the problem arising from balancing between two canons.

Here is the full quote from the book:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked. Crowley had thought about it for some time and, around about 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, OK? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle. Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic. No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.

And here, for comparison, is how it was reused in S2E3:

A: There is a stolen body in that barrel! This is wicked! C: Oh, I'm down with wicked! Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money. A: That is irrelevant. Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked. She is wicked. C: Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle. A: Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. So Elspeth here has all the opportunities because she's so poor. C: That's lunacy. A: No, that's ineffable.

I'll be honest with you - I didn't like that scene in the show. It felt jarring and off. Aziraphale was acting like it was his first day on Earth and it was frustrating to watch.

Then, on one of the rewatches, just as I was rolling my eyes at "that's ineffable", a bulb lit in my brain. That line didn't work there because it wasn't created to be there! In the book and in S1 "it's ineffable" was kind of Aziraphale's catchphrase but in S2 it only appears this once. More importantly, in the book and S1, the fact that the angel would say that was all a build-up to the scene when he threw it in Heaven's face at the Tadfield Airbase. Using that word in S2 was like trying to make a running joke that has already reached its destination run again.

And just like that one line the entire dialogue didn't fit because it wasn't meant to be there. It was created for an entirely different context.

What's the difference?

Firstly, book!husbands' conviction was very shallow and it wasn't uncommon for both of them to spout slogans without meaning them. Therefore, book!Aziraphale's words didn't carry that much weight. The very fact that the conversation took place at the same time they formed the Arrangement tells us something about how serious he was. But show!Aziraphale's relationship with his beliefs is different, so when he says things like that it's a much bigger deal.

Secondly, the book explicitly states that Aziraphale and Crowley only developed free will on Earth, due to extended exposure to mankind. The show never really makes a stand on the matter but based on what we've seen so far I think we can safely assume that angels and demons are capable of making their own choices as much as humans do.

In other words, in its original context, the conversation was just Aziraphale talking about a concept he didn't fully grasp, quoting propaganda he didn't fully subscribe to. He was being ignorant and mildly obnoxious in an endearing way.

But using the same dialogue verbatim in the Resurrectionist carried a completely different meaning. Aziraphale who utters it in the show has no reason to be so ignorant about free will. Aziraphale who utters it in the show genuinely tries to defend Heaven. Most importantly, Aziraphale who utters it in the show, doesn't just idly bicker with his friend about general things but is judging an actual human individual that's right in front of them. That, more than anything else, makes it sound heartless and ignorant.

What is the problem with having two canons, exactly?

It's time to wrap things up.

In the opening paragraphs, I've mentioned that I've noticed the issue while interpreting scenes from S1, and yes, that was the case and I do believe that the existence of two canons is especially problematic for S1. That's because pretty much every scene in S1 is potentially like that dialogue about free will in S2, except subtler and harder to spot.

A grand majority of what we see and hear in S1 comes directly from the book. But while words and actions were kept, in some instances things that gave them their original meaning might no longer be valid in the show universe. Sometimes they easily take new meaning, and we don't even notice. But sometimes there's this dissonance that's not as easy to work around.

S1 deviated from the book and created its own canon. But the difference didn't seem to go very deep and it seemed perfectly reasonable to use some trivia from the book to shed some extra light on the content of the show. I used to do it in my head, even though I was aware of the changes that were made.

But S2 expanded the show canon so far beyond what was in the book that I'm really not sure it makes sense to compile them anymore.

There are a lot of things that were only explicitly stated in the book that I keep clinging to. But perhaps it's time to let go...

Thank you for your patience.

I know all of the above isn't exactly a revolutionary discovery, but I needed to get it off my chest before writing anything else.

[beansnsoup]

Request: Can you do movie Donkey Kong or bowser x a reader that is kinda shy but has a crush on him and think they are good hiding it?

☆

Summary: You're not really good at hiding your feelings, but you think you're a master at disguising them, turns out you're really not.

Relationship: platonic??, romantic?

Warnings: fluff, awkwardness?, gn reader

Bowser

-

You hadn't always lived in Bowsers kingdom. All you knew was that you wanted to forget your past, so you never thought about it.

You were like the better version of Kamek, helping him out with him trying to capture the princess.

You first realized your feelings when he was going on and on about Princess Peach. You never liked hearing about it.

When you went to sleep that night you were up tossing and turning, thinking about how he'd be better off with someone who actually cared for him, not a princess who wants to destroy him and his empire.

You sit up,

"Oh my stars."

That's when you realized you were the one that had feelings for him, if only it were you he was going after.

You get up from the day and make your way down the corridor to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water.

As you're almost finished gulping down the drink, you hear footsteps reach the door frame, and you jump as the shadowed figure is right behind you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." You hear a low growl,

'Wonderful.' You thought he was the last person you wanted to be confronted by at the moment. You felt your stomach go queasy, and you face go pale.

"Are you sick?" He asks, you shake your head, holding in your breath.

He noticed you staring him down, then he thought back of how weird you've been acting recently. He wanted to tease you for, but he knew how terrible that'd make you feel.

You honestly couldn't tell that he'd already figured you out. You genuinely thought that he just assumed you were sick,

"I'm going to go back to bed now."

You shove past him and speed walk back to your room in the castle.

That's when he decided to lay off Peach for a while.

♡

Donkey Kong

-

The kongs had always been family friends. If you weren't in your kingdom, you were most likely Kong Kingdom.

Donkey Kong had been your closest friend for as long as you can remember. There really wasn't a time when the two of you weren't together.

You'd root him on when he was in the ring. You would also comfort him all the time when his dad wouldn't give him his much needed attention.

Loving attention, to be exact, not everything his fans would smother him in.

The both of you were sitting up on a cliff above the water as he went on and on about how his dad would never appreciate all of the things he did.

You leaned on his shoulder and continued to listen to him vent. All you could think about was how much better things would be if the two of you were actually together.

This wasn't the first time you've thought of this. You're not saying that you could be better than his own father, but at the same time you had always been there to comfort him.

You had also thought about what it would be like to be labeled as his, not just his friend. You'd be his partner.

"Y/N?"

You came out of your trance and totally forgot about where you were, "I'm sorry, what is it?"

"What do you think I should do?"

You didn't answer his question for a second time, looking into his eyes. He noticed this nearly immediately. The way your breath hitched covered your cheeks that felt way too warm.

He sent you a smirk and looked away. He wanted to say something about it but didn't want you to feel embarrassed, although it'd be funny.

You let out an awkward cough and got up, "I think I should be on my way home. It's getting late."

He wanted to protest, but he just let you go. He gave you a hug before running off, causing you to tense up.

When you left, he couldn't stop thinking about what just happened, causing him to question his own feelings.

First nintendo writing I've done that isn't about Luigi 😭

[suzukiblu]

more pocket-sized soulmates from @bucky-boychik-barnes's Pockets AU:

Tim's Pocket refuses to wear a mask, which is an issue. He doesn't want to wear the tiny wire-rimmed glasses either, or even change out of his weird straps-and-belts version of the Superman suit into . . . literally anything else, at this point. Tim would take anything else. They've given him options, but he's refused them all. He won't take off the costume. 

Also he won't stop flying around the cave like a bat out of hell, and it's seriously annoying. 

"Have you successfully selected a name for your Pocket, Master Tim?" Alfred inquires as he pours everyone tea at the table while Bruce is staring assessingly at Tim's Pocket, including four little Pocket-sized cups' worth–one for Bruce's Cat ("Kitty" to the tabloids), one each for Dick's Red and Star, and one for Tim's . . . whoever. 

Alfred doesn't have a Pocket of his own. Tim's always felt too awkward to ask about it. 

And Jason never got a Pocket at all. 

"No, not yet," Tim says, because the whole no-mask/yes-cape issue has been a lot more immediately concerning than naming him. He can't take a Pocket Superman home to his dad. Pocket Clark Kent is going to be bad enough. 

Assuming Tim's Pocket ever puts the stupid glasses on, anyway. 

"You should get on that," Dick advises as he picks up his teacup with an appreciative nod of thanks to Alfred and takes a sip. "Red got really mad at me when I didn't name her right away. I mean, like, naming Pockets is so . . . outsider, you know? And kinda gilly, too. But that's how Babs grew up, obviously, and I don't know how they did it on Krypton, but Uncle Clark was raised by gadje too, so . . ." 

Tim understood absolutely none of that, but just nods like he did and makes a note to go do some research later. 

"Sure," he says, just hoping he can convince his Pocket to ditch the damn cape sooner than later. Red wheels her tiny wheelchair over to the Pockets' nicely-set little tea table and ignores Star floating down to land in the seat across from her. They don't usually get along very well, which is a little weird to see in Pockets who didn't come from people who are, like, on the literal opposite ends of the ethical spectrum, especially ones that belong to the same person, but they both settle in all the same. Cat does an artful flip off of Bruce's caped shoulder down to the table and then strolls over to join them. Tim's Pocket looks curious, but stays hovering in the air just over his shoulder. 

Is his Pocket, like, antisocial or something? Is that a concern? Usually Pockets group up really easily, from what Tim knows. Not that he's ever had one before, and admittedly his parents' had always mostly ignored each other, but . . . normally they do, right? 

Cat chirps impatiently and makes a beckoning gesture at Tim's Pocket, but he, very weirdly, sort of floats backwards and almost . . . hides behind Tim's head. Just for a moment, but . . . 

Weird, Tim thinks. Weird, and not very Superman-like. Pockets are usually a bit more emotionally honest than the people they come from, but Superman's met Cat as many times as Bruce has met Laney, so why would a Pocket that came from him ever hesitate to go over to her? 

Star chirps too, holding out her arms and starting to glow with intensely bright solar radiation that would only be an encouraging gesture to a Kryptonian, Tim is sure. It does the job, though, and his Pocket pauses for just a moment longer, then goes to the visible effort to put on a bright grin and darts over to land beside her. She immediately starts chattering at him in Pocket-talk and he chatters back easily, and Tim then has to witness his own damn Pocket start undeniably flirting with one of Dick's Pockets. 

He has never been more mortified in his life, he thinks right up until his Pocket turns his head and starts flirting with Cat. 

Tim disassociates a little. Like. Just a bit. 

Or a lot. 

"Hm," Bruce says while Tim is busy dying of mortification, his eyes narrowing assessingly. Star is happily flirting back at Tim's Pocket, to Tim's absolute horror, but worse, Cat is actually humoring him. 

Tim has died and this is hell. There's no other explanation whatsoever for this.  

Cat reaches over and scritches his Pocket behind the ears. He looks startled, then visibly zones out for a moment, and then leans into the contact and purrs. Cat chirps approvingly, Star laughs, and Red snorts, but fondly. 

Tim is definitely, definitely in hell right now. Oh god. What is happening right now and why is it happening to him? 

"Well, he's got aspirations, I'll give him that," Dick says wryly as he leans back in his chair. "Though I don't think Lois Lane would appreciate them." 

"It's not Superman," Bruce states matter-of-factly. Tim and Dick both blink; Tim's Pocket immediately scowls.

[explorevenus]

ride the lightning - steddie x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!

word count: 7k+

tags/warnings: reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, daddy steve, master eddie, sub/brat reader, praise, degradation (includes use of slut/whore a couple times), spanking, threesome, thigh riding, edging, orgasm denial, restraint (reader gets handcuffed for a min), mild dacryphilia, oral (m+f receiving), fingering (f receiving), anal (m receiving)

(^^^ i got carried away heheheh)

a/n: not new to the fandom but this is my first stranger things fic so i'm incredibly sorry if any of this reads ooc !!! i'm also not,,,, the best at writing in second person so this was originally written in first person and then gradually converted over, i hope it doesn't sound awkward ;w; last apology of the day is for formatting, i haven’t posted to tumblr in years so be patient w me lol

for the record this takes place in an au where eddie never d*ed-- u and eddie and steve share an apartment ♥ aka the best au

my ao3 ♥

masterlist ♥

fic under the cut !! thanks so much for reading !!

  It was fun to push Steve's buttons sometimes. Of the three of you, he certainly had the shortest fuse.

  It was fun to pick little arguments with him about meaningless things until he'd reach his wits end and scold you for being difficult. It was fun to wear short skirts around him, to watch his strong hands tighten around whatever he's holding as he'd look up the length of your legs with his lip between his teeth. It was fun to tease him in social settings, like parties, for example, with 'accidental' lingering touches to the front of his pants, and suggestive whispers right into his ear when no one was watching. Or when his friends were watching, so he'd have no choice but to swallow his reaction.

  Sure, it was all fun and games, until you were being escorted out of said party by Steve himself, dragging you along by your bicep with his fist closed so tightly around you that it felt like a blood pressure test, and he was seething so strongly with annoyance that he wouldn't even look at you. Under normal circumstances you might not have felt so confident, but this was the first outing you'd attended in quite a while, and your tolerance for alcohol had tanked considerably in that time, it would seem. Just two strong drinks had you stumbling, and for that you were oddly thankful that Steve was holding you strictly upright and moving, even if he was seething.

  You couldn't stop giggling as he dragged you along. "Steve, come on, don't be mad," You teased. "I said I was sorry!"

  But he didn't say anything in response, his cold stare unmoving as he walked you through the chilly, sobering air-- it was a short distance to the car, though, and once you were inside with the doors safely shut, all bets were off.

  "'Sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it, princess," Now he was the one laughing, but it wasn't jovial and light-hearted like yours, no. It was devilish, patronizing, like he knew something you didn't. It sent a shiver throughout your body, and your thighs shifted in response. Observant as ever, Steve noticed your movements almost immediately, and he swatted at your knee. "Stop that," He demanded lowly. "When we get home, you are so dead."

  In your anxiousness the drive felt dizzyingly short, and as he turned into the parking lot of the apartments, your eyes caught sight of a certain big brown van parked by the stairs-- a vast majority of that confidence you felt earlier was sucked out of you in an instant. Eddie's home from rehearsal early. You knew that Steve was going to use this to his advantage, and when you looked over to see him grinning widely at the van like he'd just won the fucking lottery, you figured he was way ahead of you. 

  Oh, you were dead alright. You were doomed.

  "S-Steve," You reached for his hand, eyes pleading up at him. "Don't--"

  He parked and got out so quickly that it seemed like one smooth motion, and before you knew it he was opening your door and grabbing you by the wrist. Thankfully there was no one around, but still you felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning hot already. "That's not how this works, (Y/N)," Apparently you weren't keeping up with him well enough, as he jerked your arm forward to pull you along with him once you reached the top of the stairs. "You don't get to poke the fucking bear all night and then act innocent when you decide you don't want to face the consequences."

  Steve threw the front door open carelessly, like it was just another puny thing in his way, kicking it shut once again as soon as you'd made it through the doorway. Eddie startled at the sound, looking up from where he sat on the couch. Music sheets and pages of notes were scattered around him, and he added what was currently in his hand to the pile before raising an eyebrow, "Uh oh, what did I miss?"

  "Someone I know has been a needy fucking brat all night," Tossing his keys on to the counter, still gripping your arm hard enough to leave a bruise, probably, Steve began to walk you over to Eddie, and your heart retreated further into your throat with every step you took. "I am sick and god damn tired of it!" Steve shouted, letting go of your arm just to flip up the back of your skirt, striking your ass so quickly and unexpectedly that you stumbled forward at the force of it, nearly losing your footing. You couldn't help the shrill yelp that came from you, and as the sting radiated outward you couldn't bring yourself to look at either of them. It was dawning on you that perhaps you'd dug yourself a much deeper hole than you'd originally thought. It was like a switch flipped, and you went from damage control mode into fight or flight mode, an internal battle which 'flight' won instantaneously.

  But, Steve knows you all too well, of course-- you didn't even have a chance to dash to the other side of Eddie before Steve hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you back into him with a level of ease that served all too well to remind you of his strength. Eddie was stunned as he watched this unfold before him, brown eyes widening further when Steve took you by the hips and forced you into Eddie's lap, straddling his right thigh. You sucked in a breath as your center made contact with his ripped jeans, the thin seat of your panties being the only barrier between your sex and the rough denim. Face burning, you let your eyes wander the many patches and buttons on his vest as a means to avoid eye contact as his guitar-weathered hands slyly took the place of Steve's over your hips.

  Steve cupped your throat from behind, cradling your jaw between his thumb and forefinger so that he could redirect your gaze straight to Eddie. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that familiar warmth growing between your legs as you struggled to keep your composure, but Eddie was drinking in the sight of you like you were the best present he'd ever been delivered, big red bow and all. Steve came close to your side, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he gave you one simple order, "Ride him."

  Stunned, you whimpered, "D-Daddy--"

  "I am not going to ask you again," He squeezed your throat, just for a quick moment, a reminder of his strength over yours, before growling in your ear, "Ride. Him. And don’t even think about finishing unless I tell you to."

  Eddie's fingertips pressed firmly into your hips, rocking you back and forth gently, like he was encouraging you to move on your own. "What's the matter, princess?" Eddie teased with a handsome smirk that bared his teeth. "Sounds t'me like this is what you wanted."

  He wasn't wrong, but that was precisely why you couldn't trust it. It felt too easy, too good to be true, and that made you insanely suspicious of Steve's intentions. Still, you were desperate for the friction, and you couldn't help yourself from beginning to follow Eddie's movements, however hesitantly at first. Your mouth fell open in a soft gasp, but you quickly rectified by biting your lip and allowing your eyes to fall closed. Steve always treated humiliation like a sport he was determined to win, which made you want to deny him the satisfaction that much more. Your shaking hands found purchase clutching at the waist of Eddie's denim vest, and you flinched a bit, peeking your eyes open when he took your cheek in the palm of his hand, cool rings resting along your jaw. 

  "Hey," Eddie spoke softly. "Use your words."

  But how were you even supposed to answer him without admitting defeat? Frustrated, you let out a sigh and found yourself subconsciously grinding harder into his lap-- it was much easier, and much more alluring, to focus on the feeling. Still, Eddie was waiting on an answer, and it was a known rule of theirs that you were expected to respond when spoken to. 

  It wasn't a coincidence that they also happened to be great at talking you into walls, and loved doing so.

  "Master, s'not fair," You slurred, once you'd finally found the words. "I-I wanted to ride more than your thigh..."

  Eddie shivered, grasp on your hips tightening, but Steve could only laugh. "Not fair, huh? Isn't that a shame?" He taunted in your ear. "You were acting like such a brat all night, clinging to my arm like a needy fucking slut, bending over in that little skirt and flirting with other people right in front of me, because you're just so starved for attention at home, aren't you? Fucking pathetic."

  Now Eddie was laughing along with him as your ears burned, and he gasped lowly in mock offense, "And here I sat all night thinking you were out there being a good girl for your daddy. Sweetheart, how could you?"

  Fuck. I should've known that Steve was gonna rat me out. Every last bit of hope you had for getting Eddie on your side was dwindling away before your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lap, the need inside you only growing with every movement, every pass of your hips over his warm thigh. "I said I was sorry..." You tried to rectify.

  "Not good enough," Steve was quick to interject, his hold on your jaw tightening again so that he could correct your line of sight. "Eyes forward, baby. Don't make me ask you again."

  Your cheeks burned red with humiliation as Eddie met your eyes with such smug pity. "There you go, sweet girl," He hummed, cradling your cheek with one hand and your hip with the other, pressing you down just a little bit harder against his thigh, grin widening as you quivered. "So you can follow directions." He teased. Steve let out a breathy chuckle in response.

  "Master..." You whined, doing your best to resist every last part of you that wanted so badly to avoid eye contact.

  "What, not funny? Daddy thought it was pretty funny."

  Suddenly, and very much without warning, the palm of Steve's hand came down hard against your ass, making you cry out both in pain and surprise, bucking forward into Eddie's lap in a way that sent a jolt of white hot pleasure through your core. Your eyes rimmed with a thin barrier of tears. Steve spoke into your ear, "I'm getting pretty sick of your attitude, (Y/N). I think you need to lighten up."

  Your knuckles whitened around the sides of Eddie's thick leather vest, your pace quickening as you rutted desperately into his thigh in search of that feeling again. Nuzzling into Eddie's palm for comfort in the wake of your spanking, you responded to Steve in the best way you knew how, "I'm sorry, daddy."

  He took a moment, as if he were pondering whether or not to accept your apology, but ultimately his grasp softly withdrew from your throat, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Thank you, doll."

  But there was something... off about his tone. Under normal circumstances you would have turned to look at him, but you couldn't chance taking your eyes off of Eddie if you wanted this to go even slightly your way. Thankfully Eddie was the one to break the eye contact first, glancing down to where your clothed cunt met his thigh. He smirked, glancing back up at you through his messy curls. "That feel good, baby?" 

  "Yes, master," You answered obediently, resisting the urge to look for yourself, as you had a feeling he was trying to trick you into getting yourself into more trouble. No matter, you could certainly feel what he was probably talking about-- the seat of your panties was thoroughly slick with arousal, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. "It feels good. S-So good."

  "Looks like it-- you're makin' a pretty fuckin' mess all over me."

  Your trembling hands travelled lower in place of your eyes, until the palm of your right hand slid over the front of Eddie's jeans; you felt his cock twitch at the contact, stiffening beneath your touch, but still, you waited a second to test whether or not he'd stop you-- or if Steve would, for that matter, who seemed awfully quiet.

  But they didn't.

  Your heart leapt into your throat with excitement, and you began to palm him through his jeans. You felt him shiver beneath you, and watched as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, oak wood eyes darkening almost to black. He would never admit it, but his cheeks had a rosy glow, too.

  But you should have known it couldn't be that easy.

  You flinched as Steve's hand came down on your shoulder from behind, and you froze in place, the pace of your hips faltering for a second. "Did I say you could touch him?" He asked.

  But your brain was becoming rather fuzzy with lust, and you knew you were slipping further and further into subspace with each passing second. You knitted your eyebrows together, tilting your chin just enough to look at him. Steve's hard-handed approach was starting to get on your nerves. "You never said I couldn't." You sassed.

  Steve scoffed, tugging gently at your hair just to throw you off that much more. "I shouldn't have to," He scolded. "Good girls don't just get whatever they want because they want it. Tell me, (Y/N), what do good girls do?"

  You continued to massage Eddie's stiffening cock through his jeans, mouth watering as you couldn't seem to get enough of the feeling of him growing hot and hard under your hand. He gripped your hips, taking control of your movements until you were nearly back where you'd left off, and when you realized in a brief moment of clarity that Steve was still waiting on an answer, you sighed in frustration. You could hardly remember what he'd even asked. "Daddy..."

  "Tell me," Steve tugged at your hair again, a little harder this time. "Come on, baby, I know you know it. Tell me what good girls do when they want something."

  So that's where he's going with this. You huffed quietly, "A-Ask nicely..."

  "I can't hear you," He taunted. "Speak up for me, please. Use your big girl voice."

  "Good girls ask nicely," You spoke louder this time, making sure to enunciate, letting yourself tip backwards into Steve’s chest as that coil in your stomach began to tighten, trying at least a little bit to hold yourself accountable and withdraw your hands, but you just wanted Eddie to feel as good as you felt. Shakily, you continued, "G-Good girls say please."

  With a wicked and devious grin, Eddie began to bounce his leg, watching smugly as you arched and whined in pleasure, breaking your promise to Steve just for a brief second as your eyes fluttered shut, though you quickly corrected. Eddie hummed, "That's right, princess, you know better, don't you?"

   You nodded lazily.

  Reaching around you, Steve grabbed your arms and propped you upright, forcing them behind your back-- you didn't have a lot of time to wonder what he was doing before cool, familiar metal settled around your wrists, tightening with a few clicks.

  So he wasn't just being quiet earlier, he was grabbing our cuffs from the bedroom. Sneaky.

  "Y'know, since you can't seem to follow simple directions," His words were cold, but you could practically hear Steve grinning through his tone. "It's a shame, really. I know how badly you wanna touch your Master, but naughty fucking sluts don't get that privilege, do they?"

  You shivered, finding it increasingly hard to focus on his questioning as you slipped closer and closer to the edge, but never close enough. You wanted more, needed more, but at this point you had no chance in hell of gaining their permission. It would be embarrassing to even ask now. Instead you bit your tongue, shaking your head softly in defeat as you answered Steve, “No, daddy, they don’t...”

   He gave you a patronizing pat to the head. "Now you're getting it."

   Eddie was eating up every last second of this interaction, though it was evident that his own arousal was becoming... dire. He continued to bounce his leg beneath you, cradling you so closely toward the edge, but equally so he was shifting where he sat in what you guessed was an attempt to alleviate the pressure. Maybe I can work with this...

   "Master," You panted, knuckles white behind your back as you gazed deeply into his round, soul rendering eyes, humping his thigh as fluidly and artfully as you could manage in your state of pleasure. "Please... may I please suck your cock?"

   His lip upturned into a grin, his hot body rumbling beneath you as he shivered at your words. Quickly, he glanced over to Steve for input-- after all, it really was up to Steve-- and then he turned back to you, and you could hardly read the look on his face. You wanted so badly to shed him of his clothes, to feel every inch of his hot skin on yours, to do him the kindness of relieving that ache. Suddenly your own clothes felt that much more confining, and you huffed softly in frustration.

   Finally, Eddie answered lowly, "Sorry, princess, daddy says no."

   Your face twisted into one of confusion and annoyance. "What?" You turned to look at Steve, uncaring of the fact that that technically meant defying him-- he looked infuriatingly proud of himself, arms crossed casually as he flashed you that famous smirk. He should be glad my hands are bound right now. "I asked nicely! I said please!"

   "Yes you did, honey, and I'm so proud of you for that," He said, tone dripping with amusement at your reaction. "I just don't think you've learned your lesson. What do you think, Eds?"

   You quickly turned back to look at Eddie, who looked equally pompous. "Gotta agree with ya there, Harrington," He declared, and your jaw dropped in offense. Eddie then continued, "Can't just let her get away with whatever she wants."

   Now that was the nail in the coffin. You'd lost Eddie to Steve's cause.

  By now it was becoming highly difficult to hold yourself together-- you hadn't even finished and you were beginning to feel the bittersweet start of overstimulation, every bump of your clothed clit against Eddie's thigh resulting in a sharp jolt. A fat tear tumbled over your cheek, soon followed by another. You took your lip between your teeth and dug your nails into your palms, shifting in your restraints. "D-Daddy, please, it hurts..."

  "I know it does, princess. Maybe it'll teach you a thing or two."

  You groaned, hips stuttering-- even a break would have been nice. Of course you had a safe word, and you knew that if you used it they would stop in a heartbeat and dote on you to no end, but you were determined to see this through, to prove to them that you could be good. You would do almost anything to get back into their good graces at this point, and you knew Steve liked a challenge. It wasn't going to be easy, but good behavior must hail a good reward, right?

  Your head felt light, fuzzy and borderline mushy with bliss, and as much as you wanted to beg them to ease up, it was probably fair to say you shouldn't hold your breath on that, as if you could even find the words to speak if you tried. It was sort of embarrassing how easily they managed to toy with your brain and body, to walk you right where they wanted you with a level of prowess that reminded you well just how deeply they knew you, sometimes in ways you didn't even know yourself. Eddie's calloused hands smoothed upward from your hips, rings cold on your burning skin as his touch passed slyly beneath your shirt. After so much anticipation, it felt truly divine, and you found yourself arching into him eagerly. He simply chuckled, letting his palms slide over the globes of your breasts, thumbs toying with your already hardened nipples-- he squeezed softly, eyes raking up the length of you as you squirmed.

  "So pretty and soft," He whispered to himself, though the praise was not lost on you. "Our sweet little princess... if only you could behave yourself, hm?"

  With a frown you sighed, "I can behave, master, I promise... m'trying to be good for you..."

  "Oh, you are now, aren't you?" He teased. "Tell me what you want, baby, and maybe I'll give it to you."

  A flurry of butterflies swept through your stomach, and you rutted deeper into him. "Master, please, m'so close, need to cum, please..." 

  "Hm... what do you think, Stevie?" Eddie asked, glancing over your shoulder to your superior. "Think she's earned it?"

  The palm of Steve's hand came down softly on your shoulder, caressing the junction of your neck and shoulder with a featherlight touch that only made your body burn hotter. He hummed in thought for a moment, always a fan of dragging things out just to torture you, but surprised you with his response. "Actually, I have a better idea," He said, taking advantage of both yours and Eddie's surprise to pull you up suddenly from where you sat, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You whined pathetically at the sudden loss of stimulation, shivering as the cool air hit your soaked panties, and as Steve turned the two of you around to walk you the short distance to the bedroom, you caught sight of Eddie eyeing the considerable wet patch you'd left on the thigh of his ripped jeans before snapping out of it quickly to follow you.

  As you entered the bedroom, you could hardly stop your mind from running wild pondering over what Steve's 'better idea' could possibly be. He could be very hard to read when he wanted to be, one of many devilish tools in his box. When the three of you first began seeing each other you could hardly believe that Steve had it in him, let alone in comparison to Eddie, but it would seem he was more and more determined to prove you wrong by the day.

  Not that you were particularly complaining.

  Steve delivered you unto the bed somewhat unceremoniously, and as you squirmed to reposition yourself upright with limited use of your hands, you looked up to be met with the sight of the two of them joined at the mouth before you. They had wasted absolutely no time going in on each other, lips colliding in a saccharine display of tongue and teeth, saliva changing hands every time they connected. 

  Steve playfully took hold of Eddie's bottom lip in his teeth, teasing him with the little bite to catch him off guard so he could nudge his jacket off of his tattooed shoulder. Eddie gave him a curious look but said nothing, opting instead to take it upon himself to disrobe-- slowly of course, after all he was providing a show for two-- and as the last of his clothes were discarded to the floor you were captivated by the extravagance of his naked body. Steve's sly hand travelled lower from where it began at the nape of his neck, releasing a bouncy coil of Eddie's messy hair from around his index finger as he felt over the expanse of his chest, fingertips brushing over Eddie's sensitive nipples, feeling over his soft stomach until he began following his happy trail down to where Eddie really needed him. 

  You and Eddie both let out a soft gasp as Steve's hand closed over Eddie's woefully hard cock, teasing him with a few lazy pumps of the hand before Steve turned to look at you, thumb rolling over the reddened, weeping head. "You said you wanted to blow him, didn't you?" Steve asked.

  Your face burned at the pointed accuracy of that question-- after all, you did indeed say that-- and you nodded eagerly. "Yes, daddy, pretty please," You begged. "Want it so bad--"

  "Then go ahead, sweetheart," He finally relented. "Suck your master's cock for me, like a good little whore."

  He wouldn't have to tell you twice. You scrambled clumsily to your knees, scooting as closely to the edge of the bed as you could manage, heart racing with excitement, and every beat throbbed through your core. You could hardly wait to take care of him. Eddie stepped toward you at Steve's command, cradling the back of your head so lovingly as he threaded his fingers into your hair and scratched. It took a conscious effort not to start dozing off at his affection-- there was a much more important job to be done, of course. But now you were really wishing you could use your hands.

  Your master shuddered at your touch as you lapped delicately at his hard cock, and as you licked a coy stripe from the base of him all the way up to the tip, he scratched your head affectionately again before he gathered your hair away from your face, holding it firmly at the base of your neck-- a favorite look of his on you, communicated all too well by the look on his face. Eddie smirked handsomely down at you, "Open wide, doll, just like I taught you."

  Practically on cue your mouth fell open to receive, knuckles whitening behind your back as you took him slowly, thankful that despite your active punishment, Eddie was still forgiving enough to allow you to pace yourself in adjusting to him. With a shaky breath from your nose you sank almost all the way down, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue for one final tranquil moment before he could no longer restrain himself, his hips rutting forward to force himself deeper down your throat. Your eyes slipped shut with a muffled whimper at the force of it, suppressing a gag to the best of your ability-- he'd been teased just as much as you had, to be fair, so you could empathize with how he felt.

  He soon found his rhythm, letting out a satisfied groan as he held you in place to fuck your mouth. Your head swam with lust and, well, lowered oxygen intake, concocting an oddly blissful feeling that was somewhat akin to being choked-- you moaned softly around his thick cock, becoming wetter at the intimate pleasure that was allowing him to use you as he pleased, though you could hardly believe that was possible by now. The vibration of the sound you'd made only served to spur him on, drawing a shiver from deep within him. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully.

  You felt the mattress dip just behind you, and you couldn't help the way you spooked at the unexpected nature of it-- both of them chuckled at your response. Steve's familiar touch began to toy at the insides of your thighs. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied you might have said something, but alas... He knew you were hanging on by a thread already, this was just cruel. No matter, you didn't have the option to protest this time-- you felt the ghost of his fingertips sliding upward beneath your skirt, until his palm closed around your cunt through your panties. You let out a quiet whine, inadvertently attempting to rock back into his touch, but the more you followed him, the more he pulled away.

  You were met with a harsh swat to the ass, making you yip, tears threatening to fall again-- Eddie was not letting up with his bruising pace on your throat, and you were already way too sensitive. This wasn't going to be easy. Steve chided with a click of the tongue, "So greedy tonight, aren't you? Be patient, honey, and if you're good I'll let you finish."

  Excited at the prospect of this, you shot him a sideways glance, eyes wide and practically spelling out, you promise?

  As if he could read your mind, he rolled his eyes and smiled, "I promise, okay? Just trust me."

  What other option did you have but to trust him anyway? You obediently refocused your attention to Eddie, reveling in the sight of his inked body towering over you, fucking ruthlessly into your throat, and you hummed contently, tearful lashes fluttering in awe of him. You flinched when Steve's touch returned to you again, this time tugging at the buttons at the front of your crop top, freeing your chest for them both. You whimpered in pleasure as he tugged and pinched at your nipples, forcing yourself not to arch into his touch, and it would seem this pleased him enough, as he continued to grant you his attention. 

  This continued for a moment until you were finally able to relax into it, to succumb to the cards you'd been dealt for now. With one hand Steve kneaded at your breast, feeling every shaking breath of yours under his palm, while the other snuck back down between your legs. You jolted when the tips of his middle and ring finger dragged over the seat of your panties, from your slick hole to your aching clit-- you moaned around Eddie's cock, making him shudder and draw his bottom lip between his teeth, a rosy blush settling over his skin. Still, Steve continued.

  He rubbed gentle circles over your clit through your panties, careful to give you just enough to reignite your arousal and nothing more, as if he were testing to see whether you'd break his rules-- you didn't, though your legs were starting to get a bit shaky. 

  "Fuck, princess, love fuckin' your mouth," Eddie moaned, pace stuttering just for a moment as he lost himself in the feeling, but he was quick to find his composure again. He let out a breathy chuckle. "Feels like a fuckin' dream."

  You hardly had time to revel in how hot that was before Steve pushed your panties aside and sank a finger inside you. You keened beneath his ministrations, gagging briefly over Eddie's cock as you sucked in a breath the wrong way-- Steve laughed, letting his forehead fall forward to rest on your shoulder, teeth nipping at your skin. He replied to Eddie, "You should feel her pussy right now. So fucking wet."

  You fought against every instinct in your body to keep still, tears dripping freely down your face. Steve quickly found that soft spot within you and withdrew his finger, only to return with another one at a measured pace. You let out a muffled sob, eyes rolling back in bliss as electricity rolled over your body in waves. Eddie's thrusts began to slow gradually, chest rising and falling with unequal breaths as he pulled himself from your lips, allowing his hot seed to spill out in thick ropes over your chest with a final few strokes of the hand.

  Now that he wasn't holding on to you, however, it became immediately apparent how much you had been depending on him in your attempt to follow Steve's directions. You wobbled pathetically, cock drunk and boneless beneath Steve's skilled hands, and you were lucky that Eddie was quick to catch you as you fell forward.

  "Aww, look at you," He mused, catching his breath, petting your hair as he held you to his chest. "You still with us, sweetheart?"

  You nodded lazily, arms squirming in your cuffs. Your wrists were starting to burn where the metal bit into you, but you were nervous to ask if they would take them off-- you had gotten so far with Steve by now that you really didn't want to ruin it, especially with such a promised reward for good behavior. But, then it occurred to you--

  Eddie, on the other hand, is much easier to convince.

  Tilting your head just enough to gaze up at him through your lashes, you tugged at your cuffs again and sighed softly, "I wann'em off, master," quietly enough that you hoped Steve wouldn't notice. 

  But of course he did. He used his free hand to tug at them right back, regaining your attention as he continued to pump in and out of you. "What do you say when you want something, (Y/N)?"

  Dejectedly, you hung your head and mumbled, "Please."

  "That's right. Good girl," He praised, reaching into his back pocket to hand the key to Eddie. "I expect you to be on your best behavior once we take these off."

  You nodded with an excited grin, "I'll be good, daddy, I promise."

  Eddie scratched your head softly before letting go just long enough to unlock the cuffs, a freedom which felt divine now-- you quickly rid yourself of your open shirt, then your sore arms sealed around Eddie's waist like a magnet, and you peppered his tummy with soft kisses both as a thank you, and in pure adoration. Steve was ushering you nearer and nearer to the edge again, so you were grateful for the stability. Your heart hammered beneath your sticky chest as your peak drew closer.

  It certainly was tempting to just let it happen, though you felt a responsibility to respect your dues. Shyly, you whimpered, "Daddy, I'm so close... please let me cum, please..."

  "Aren't you a quick learner?" He teased, brushing a finger over your clit. "I guess you've earned it."

  Your heart swelled instantaneously, your core burning white hot as the evening's worth of pent up frustration finally paid off-- your entire body shook as your high washed over you, and you gushed over his thick fingers with a sinful cry. He was sure to drag it out a bit, of course, pumping his fingers slowly just a few more times to get a rise out of you, and then he pulled them out.

  You slumped into Eddie's chest, catching your breath, and he rubbed your back softly for a moment before taking you by the shoulders to lay you properly down on the bed. Taking note of your exhaustion they began to shower your face and body in feather light kisses, attentive hands caressing and massaging and loving. You felt so precious, so special, you couldn't help but melt into their affection. Steve smooched your shoulder, teasing you with a soft bite to your dewy skin, one hand kneading your breast and the other palming your cheek. His eyes fell to yours, and you were taken again. "Aren't you a pretty little thing, hm?" His thumb brushed over your nipple and you shivered, taking your lip between your teeth. "We should get you some pearls."

  You nodded into his palm, doe eyes hooked on his, shivering as Eddie's lovely tongue slid across your breast, savoring a drop of his own cum. They were truly unbelievable. Steve stood to finally undress himself, while Eddie, distractible as he is, settled on his stomach between your legs and found himself wandering your trembling body with his mouth. He started with your breasts, of course, careful not to deface any more of his art with his inkling to taste, instead focusing his attention on your nipples. Taking advantage of your freed hands, you threaded your fingers into his hair and basked in the feeling-- he sucked and swirled his tongue over the sensitive buds before traipsing lower, dusting your ribs and tummy with featherlight kisses, passing over your most ticklish spots with his lashes.

  He made his way down to your hips, dragging your skirt down along with him, peppering you with smooches and little bites before gazing up at you with his handsome puppy eyes, "Lemme return the favor, baby, please?"

  You shuddered-- there was absolutely no way you could say no to that face, and he knew it. You nodded with a soft giggle, granting him your permission.

  Eddie's eyes lit up with excitement, and his broad hands slid down to your thighs to nudge them up over his shoulders. His teasing continued only briefly to your inner thighs, only until he'd left you an adequate number of stinging little marks to admire later, before he succumbed to his own need. His tongue slipped teasingly inside you before trailing upward to flick at your clit, and you drew in a sharp gasp, yanking at his thick hair. The motion only seemed to encourage him.

  He dragged the flat of his tongue all the way up, teasing you with a quick swirl over your aching jewel before he steadied his grip on your thighs, locking you in place so that he could truly devour you. He moaned with satisfaction, presumably at the taste of your arousal, and the vibration of his deep voice resulted in a sinful whine of your own. You rocked your hips into him in an attempt to chase the feeling, shuddering deeply with every bump of his nose against your overstimulated clit. You felt Eddie jump a bit, and you peeked your hazy eyes open to catch the sight of Steve, newly naked, taking his place at the end of the bed, just behind Eddie. His strong hands had come down to caress Eddie's back as a gentle way to alert him of his presence there-- Eddie tensed just for a moment, suckling your jewel up into his mouth before he relaxed into Steve's touch, tongue fluttering against you.

  You watched in awe as Steve kneaded tenderly at Eddie's flesh with one hand, stroking himself with the other, his cock hard and drooling with precum. With a shaking breath, he let go of himself to take hold of Eddie's hips, a lock of hair falling in front of his pretty face. You're not entirely sure you were breathing.

  Eddie recaptured your attention as his fingers traced lightly up the length of your thighs, careful not to catch you off guard, which was sweet of him. He drew his fingertips through your folds, slicking himself with your wetness before pushing two slowly inside. After all, he was well aware of your sensitivity, and you got the feeling he wanted to drag this out a bit. He brought his face into you again to lap at your swollen clit, and you quivered, thighs closing around his head, to his apparent delight-- you could have sworn you heard him chuckle with pride.

  Taking advantage of both yours and Eddie's distraction, Steve sheathed himself within Eddie at last, and the way they moaned in sync sounded just as sinful as it did heavenly. His hips stilled for a moment, allowing Eddie to adjust to his length before before he gradually began to rut into him. With every collision of their bodies, Eddie's divine mouth and hand rocked deeply into your cunt, making you cry out in pleasure.

  Steve's pupils were blown wide with lust, leaving him with an expression that was absolutely carnal, and it was undoubtedly purposeful that his gaze was trained on you, like he was just waiting for you to notice. Shivers rolled over your body and you clutched Eddie's hair just a bit tighter, captivated by the complete and absolute intimacy of it all. You were experiencing such an intoxicating mixture of things, pleasure, need, electricity... your breaths were uneven and accompanied by shaky moans, your muscles tight but weak and your core burning hot with desire.

  You were right to trust Steve-- he had a way of settling things in a way that worked for everyone.

  Try as you might, there was no possible way you could continue to maintain eye contact with the way your lids begged to fall halfway, vision blurring with ecstasy, eyes rolling back-- but it didn't seem that Steve was worried about that right now. Through your fluttering lashes you couldn't help but admire his face. His tongue flicked out to wet his pink lips which were upturned in a proud grin, cheeks flushed while his hazy, coffee colored eyes traversed the bodies beneath him. His hair was dewy with sweat and falling in front of his face. Steve truly looked like a king.

  Your mouth moved before your brain could stop it. "I-I love you, daddy."

  Eddie hummed sweetly against you as Steve chuckled softly, not to make fun of you, but because it was so unexpected. That proud grin grew even wider. "I love you too, baby."

  Whether he was encouraged by your statement or just chasing his own high, the pace of Steve's thrusts picked up noticeably, fingertips boring deeply into Eddie's hips as he lost himself to the feeling. Your head spun as you experienced the shockwave of it, the way Eddie groaned, his long, skilled fingers reaching so deeply inside of you that you were seeing stars. Your mouth fell open in a string of unintelligible mewls as your second orgasm of the night snuck up on you. You clutched his curly hair at the roots, thighs closing tightly around his head as he savored every last drop of your arousal like he'd been starved of it.

  Eddie's lips pulled away from your throbbing clit with a soft pop, resting his cheek against your trembling thigh for brief moment of reprieve as he continued to rock back and forth at the pace of Steve's hips. You gently played with his hair, watching his big brown eyes, glazed over with pleasure, as they spaced out and focused in on nothing. If your muscles didn't feel like they were made of jelly at the moment, you might have repositioned yourself to kiss him, but would have to make do with what you could reach with your hands. You scratched his head softly, heart swelling as he leaned into your palm, and then you let your hand fall lower to brush the backs of your knuckles over his cheeks. He almost looked like he was falling asleep, until he peeked an eye up at you and chided lowly, "What, I don't get an 'I love you?'"

  You rolled your eyes with a smile, laughing breathlessly at his absurdity before relenting, "I love you, almighty Dungeon Master."

  He lazily nipped at your inner thigh with his teeth, his speech and breathing stilted with mind numbing pleasure as he replied in a blissed out whisper, "I love you too, dollface."

  Soon Steve's chest was heaving with uneven breaths and glistening with sweat, a peachy blush settling over his dewy skin. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes fell closed and his grip on Eddie grew even tighter, hips stuttering as he neared his own end. Finally he found it within himself to pull out at the last possible second, pearly cum spilling out over Eddie's back in ribbons. Almost precisely in sync Eddie shivered, teeth sinking into your flesh as his own seed drooled out into the sheets. 

  Bringing a hand up to fix his hair, Steve let out a quiet chuckle as he looked over the two of you on the bed, spread out completely boneless, covered in cum with twitching legs. "Look at you two," He joked. "What a mess. I just washed the bedding."

[kiradrabbles]

Tim wright x Afab reader NSFW alphabet? 👀

yes!

Tim wright how I love you… sorry this took a million billion years

Tim Wright x AFAB reader NSFW alphabet!

A = Aftercare In my humble option Tim is a master at aftercare!! Very gentle and careful, will pick you up in his arms and take a shower with you or order you food, whichever you prefer. If he’s been a little rough he’ll apologise and kiss any bruises better. also a cuddlebug :) if you’re sleepy I think after he’s cleaned up he’ll totally pull you close and rest his head on your chest and kiss you. He’s the best person to snuggle with I swear to god, who wouldn’t want a chubby hairy man to cuddle to sleep.

B = Body part (his favourite body part) ass man!!!! Sorry but Tim Wright is such an ass man to me. Will flip you over. will have you sit on his face. sit on his lap and his eyes will pop out and turn into love hearts like those cartoon characters, bro probably says awooga. I joke but if you do actually sit on his lap he’d be so awkward and pop a boner like. Immediately. Yeah, ass.

C = Cum I imagine he’s a cream pie man to be honest. It does something to him to have your cum leaking out of him like that, I think it also appeals to his breeding kink which we will discuss in detail later.

don’t get me wrong, he’s *not* opposed to cumming on you, and loves to see you covered in it, I just think seeing it leaking out of you (especially your pussy and ass, but also your mouth) does something to him he can’t explain.

D = Dirty secret hm.. I was wracking my brains on this one. I think he’d largely be pretty open with you on his desires. I’d imagine probably that he wouldn’t mind doing something a little… risky.

I honestly can imagine him being the type of mf to let you give him a handy while he drives.

E = Experience I think he has some experience in a few things. Things getting freaky in the psych ward fr 🔥🔥

okay okay jokes aside, I honestly think he’s a virgin? He’s definitely made out with a few people before, and maybe even had a relationship with someone, but I don’t think he’s really gone too far with it. I like to think he’d wait for someone he felt he could really trust and who understood him before doing that. And his person is you :)

F = favourite position ass up! Honestly anything where he gets a good view of you, but I’d say his favourites would probably be you riding him cowgirl style or doggy (so, ass up).

just imagine him pressing your head down, grabbing your hair and fucking you hard from behind, grunting…

G = Goofy (whether or not they're serious during sex) I honestly think it depends on his mood!! Most days I don’t think he’d be especially silly, but I imagine if it got awkward or if he’s make a mistake he’d laugh it off with you, and I can definitely imagine him biting somewhere ticklish to tickle you, or kissing down your stomach to make you laugh.

now if it’s stressed angry sex? Bro is not being goofy, just pounding into you, hair messy, sweat running down his face. You’re how he takes it off after all.

H = Hair body hair!! Probably has arm hair, leg hair, stomach hair, the works. I imagine he has a happy trail too (I’m such a sucker for happy trails).

I do think he’d keep his pubic hair pretty trimmed since it’s hygienic and he wouldn’t want you to be disgusted by it or anything. Would clean shave if you specifically asked, but prefers to just keep it trimmed.

I = Intimacy like i said, total cuddlebug!!!! When you're not having sex he's cuddling you and giving you soft kisses, even just holding your hand. I think when he's not stressed he's very gently and intimate with the sex too, gently kisses up and down your body, gentle bites, muttering that you're pretty and perfect and that he's so lucky to have you, praise in between kisses (and thrusts).

J = Jerking off Honestly i don't think Tim would Jerk off too much. That's not to say he isn't horny a lot, he just.. tries to keep it in. Especially with the psych ward he wouldn't have had much privacy as a teen so he'd always be pretty paranoid about getting caught, so he wouldn't do it as often.

that being said, he probably increases it once he starts dating you, probably imaging you while he's at it. Bro probably wouldn't mind getting caught by you of all people....

K = Kink(s) Right! here it is folks, what you've all been waiting for...

face sitting. Theres something about it honestly. I imagine Tim as more of a soft top, but you sitting on his face? he can't get enough of it, will eat you out until you're screaming with you riding his face and enjoy every second, holding your thighs so tight it leaves fingerprint bruises. Probably have to safeword to get him to stop this man EATS. Will beg for you to break his neck sitting on it.

Similar to the above, also loves 69'ing. He gets your pretty ass on his face and he gets your lips around his cock? It's a win/win situation.

Sort of said it already, but just.. thighs and ass. Sit on his lap instead of his face? fine by him! will pop a boner and probably fuck you right there and then if you want him to. Any clothes that show that sort of area, anything tight, you'll have him tugging you into the bathroom by a hand.

Angry sex. If he's stressed out or mad (this happens a lot) honestly nothing helps him cool down more than banging your brains out and cuddling down with you afterwards. Of course if you aren't up for it, he won't, but..

To contrast, he also loves softer, lazy loving sex. Like early morning just woke up sex. Gentle kisses, running his hands up and down your body, fucking on your sides in bed, just.. comfortable stuff.

L = Location He likes being in bed or on the sofa the most, somewhere private and comfortable the two of you can get it on without accidentally hurting yourselves (or getting caught).

That being said desperate times call for desperate measures, and if he's really horny (or, really stressed) he will plow you in a bathroom or in the back of his car. Sorry, i don't make the rules (i do!).

M = Motivation (what turns him on) Honestly i'm sure a lot does but specifically i can imagine him getting super worked up when you dress up for him. ESPECIALLY things that show off your ass or chest. If you wear a pretty skirt or dress for him he would have to stop himself from lifting your skirt up and just shoving his face in.

N = No (boundaries) Cheating stuff, like NTR. whether it's you or him cheating, he still feels really... icky about it. He'd feel guilty if he fucked someone else (and honestly probably wouldn't in the first place, he really only feels that comfortable with you) and he'd get pretty upset if you fucked someone else, even if you'd discussed it before.

O = Oral Likes receiving and WILL fuck your throat and praise you through it with his hands in your hair, but remember what i said? this man EATS. i mean breakfast lunch and dinner bro will eat you out until you safeword. I'm talking leaving fingerbrint bruises on your ass from gripping so hard and hickeys on your thighs from biting up them. I imagine he's pretty good at it too, and especially loves it when you moan out his name or grab his hair. after all, what's better than a little encouragement.

P = Pace depends on how he's feeling!! Normally i already said this but he looves slow, sweet gentle sex that lasts an hour or more, just practically worshipping you and your body. Sweet kisses all up and down your stomach, thighs, legs, tits, everywhere until you're both giggling and kissing each other and he's finally in you or eating you out.

Now if he's stressed? ohh boy... bro will pound you into the mattress. the neighbours will know his name and your hips will probably have fingerprint bruises from when he's grabbed you so hard. Prepare to be sore (and have trouble walking).

Q = Quickies I mean... he'll take a quicky if you've gotten him all worked up at a party and he wants to get it out, but he wants time to be able to properly enjoy your body you know? That being said, he isn't opposed to one.

R = Risk He's okay with some risk!! in fact, he's even into it to a degree. remember that car thing i mentioned? yeah, he'd go crazy for something like that. Same sort of thing with giving him a handy in a movie theatre or something. would he suggest it himself? hell no. would he agree without hesitation if you asked? hell yes.

S = Stamina Honestly i feel like he has pretty high stamina, especially with how he spends a lot of it doing foreplay and eating you out, so the sex probably feels longer than the actual penetration part is. And if he's tired he can always eat you out until he's ready and rearing to go again. Get's him hard every time without fail.

T = Toys I think he isn't crazy on toys as he prefers being able to feel you himself and have the experience of his skin on yours and both of you together, getting all sweaty, but he won't say no if you suggest some? he might feel a little inadequate so i'd imagine you'd have to really reassure him that that wasn't what was going on.

Probably wouldn't mind if you had a vibrator for when he wasn't there, though.

U = Unfair (teasing) When he's not stressed, i think he'd try teasing you just a little, if only because he finds your reactions super cute. Might just stop eating you out right before you orgasm and make you ask nicely just to hear you beg. He'd probably give in and give you the best orgasm of your life after, though. Maybe even two or three.

V = Volume/Vocal I imagine he's not too vocal, but you will be able to tell if he's enjoying it.I imagine he grunts and groans like no tomorrow, and if he hits just the right angle or you hit just the right part of his cock with your tongue? he will whimper your name out and it will be the hottest thing you've ever heard i promise you that.

W = Wild Card (misc) His prominant southern accent makes for some fun times. I imagine he calls you names like "doll" or "darlin'", something like that. "darlin, you wore that just for me? How 'bout you come over here and i'll show you what i think of it~" (he eats you out)

X = X-Ray Grah!!! chubby tim wright supremacy!!! My dad bod king. I imagine under it he's actually pretty strong as troy confirmed that worked in construction while in collage, but he's still my chubby king. Just one who could pick you up and throw you onto the bed. Member wise? pretty average - large, though he isn't really sure what constitutes large. I'd say around 6.5-7 inches? perfect size if you ask me.

Y = Yearning (libido) Not always horny, especially if you're not around, but i imagine when you're around it's more likely that he's horny than not, if you catch my drift. Plus, it's very very easy to make him horny if you're in the mood and he isn't!

Z = Zzz I already said this but he loves to cuddle and fall asleep with you after sex :) Lay your head on his chest and snuggle him back and he's in a veritable heaven.

[volturissideslut]

Can you do the guards meeting their human mate during New Moon when Bella goes to save Edward. Maybe their mate is Bellas sister or friend or something.

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉

In this you're bellas sister. Also currently listening to Stephen Sanchez's album "what was, not now" and was vibing and a bunch of words came to my mind so enjoy my word vomit

also I keep accidentally clicking post instead of save draft so if its incomplete just wait a minute

Alec

Was actually zoned out until he glanced at you and his world came to a crashing halt

his banal daydreams freezing like an idle painting in the background as images of you and him for eternity consume him and in that moment all he knew was you

he was surprisingly content with that too and it's only after that that the situation dawns on him

you

oh glorious you

human

trapped between a vicious king and a vicious girl, all to consumed by an eternity of her own, about to trade her sister for her lover

Alec's stomach lurched as he dreamed up a perfect nightmare, one leaving him so inconsolable he was unable to contain himself for the first time in forever

heaving forward with a newfound desperation, he stops the swan girl he hadn't cared enough to learn the name on as a wrathful fire burned within him

they would not end his eternal love before he even got to know them, it would be a tragedy to great to bear

Marcus, gifed with the ability to see these eternal binds between lovers, halts Aro in his actions

reaching out his scarred and shaky hands, Aro grants Alec a favour - no doubt to be returned soon - and allows him to take you to his chaimbers

Jane

Jane - just the name sends shivers down the spine of those who know, those who have heard, and those who can guess

not you though

it confounds her that you can look at her with such soft curiosity as she leads your party to the overzealous throne room

surely you cannot feel the connection? human concepts of emotion are pathetically watered down compared to the theatrics of a vampiric spectrum of infatuated devotion to sickening abhorrence

one she has delivered the Cullens back to the king she let's it finally weigh on her - she has met her forever love

casting a glance to her master, she allows him into her mind with a simple touch and he immediately gratifys her allowing her two minutes only to pull yiu to the side eventually but for now she is needed

she has waited for you for forever, she can wait five minutes more; though she is surprisingly chipper, allowing a miniature smile to grace her features

unlike the usually sadistic ones, this one held a worlds worth of impatience as she would only take her eyes off of yiu for a minute at a time

though she could not touch you, she could not feel you, for now it was enough to listen to your heartbeat and know you were alive and had finally arrived

not that she'd ever tell you this, as for now she must remain stoic and not let your sister in on her little secret love

oh she couldn't wait to have you all alone away from that pest you call family

Demetri

Silence replaced his ever racing thoughts as a wonderous scent made itself prominently known in his mind

the opera of the elevator had left an era of awkwardness around the group bu still he found himself subconsciously inching further from his guard friend and more toward you, the source of his unbridled euphoria

without any hesitation his hand enclosed around your wrist as the elevator chimed and opened

neglecting to realise his meal was arriving at the castle, he practically dragged you to his chambered only interrupting his mission to give a sharp glare to Felix when he called for him

for now he just needs you

he needs to hold you close to his chest, wrapped tightly in your arms while he gently explains anything and everything to you

Felix would have to infer the situation for himself and tell the kings about his whereabouts

surely he his absence would be excused, he was not necessary for this one and the unforseen circumstance of meeting his mate needed to be accounted for. He would not allow her to witness the horrors of a trial before they had even spoken yet

Felix

Ignited deep within him, the fire and passion for his infitiy grows the moment he lays his eyes onto you

looking into your eyes was ethereal, a bond worth more that all the gems and treasures in the world growing deeper and deeper and the seconds pass

neither of you had said a word to each other and yet there was some agreement between the two of you that, be it God, the universe or whatever lays dormant behind the story's of the stars had placed you both on this earth for one reason: eachother

it was destiny in his eyes and perhaps even yours that you two would be each others infinities

the light in his eyes and the joy in his heart was rejuvenated the moment your eyes and souls connected and already he dreaded a life with you not by his side

any distance could not be far enough that he would do all withing his power to return to you

He could not care less about the other girl here for her mate- he has met his infinity and that was all that mattered to him now

okay wow this is an edit from about an hour later and I've stopped listening to the music and read it and I hate it

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

For the Sentence Starters... I went with one from each category but feel free to pick the one that speaks to you the most. Or throw in all three, whatever works! Angst: 7, Fluff: 12, Misc: 1 💖

These come from this ask game! (If anyone else has more prompts for me, send them my way! I'm enjoying these ones a lot!)

Angst 7: Don't you ever do that again!

John felt a pair of hands collide roughly with his back, sending him staggering forward several steps. "What were you thinking?" a voice barked from behind him.

He turned slowly. "You're having a moment, Petty Officer," he answered coldly.

Linda-058, a woman known for her calm in the most adverse conditions known the humankind, regarded him with a vitriolic sneer. "No, Master Chief," she countered hotly, "it just appears that you forgot to switch your brain on today."

John crossed his arms over his chest. "You've clearly got something to say to me, Spartan. Say it."

"Oh, cut it," Linda barked. Her reactions were past the line of insubordination at this point, but he would let it slide. "You nearly got yourself killed today," the sniper continued, her temper burning to match her bright red hair. "Spare me the stoicism, Chief. You need to screw your head back on straight."

The Master Chief cocked his head to one side. She was right... he had nearly gotten killed earlier. But it was for the mission. From his perspective, sacrificing himself would have been a valuable trade for a successful mission.

Linda, evidently, disagreed.

The female Spartan glared daggers at John, her chest heaving under the weight of her rage. Finally, she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I thought I lost you," she confessed, her voice whisper-quiet. "It was... it was the worst moment of my life."

Suddenly it felt as though someone had stuck a knife in John's side and twisted. He looked at the barely disguised pain on Linda's face and realized what his action might have done to her. It wasn't a pretty thing to confront.

"I'm... I'm sorry," he said, the apology feeling foreign on his lips. He was a commander. The commander of the greatest soldiers in human history. Asking forgiveness was not something he often found himself doing. But for Linda... it was worth it. "I didn't realize."

He took a few slow, awkward steps forward. His hand landed gently on her arm. She wouldn't be able to feel his grip through her armor, but he hoped it made some difference.

Linda huffed out a sigh. Finally she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Just... don't ever do that again," she said firmly.

John wanted to tell her that he would do it again if the situation ever called for it. That he had to be ready to make the ultimate sacrifice at all times... that they all did.

Instead, he nodded. "I won't do it again," he promised. It was probably a lie. She knew that. But it was what she needed to hear at that moment.

Linda let out the breath she had accidentally been holding. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. "Good," she breathed. Then she lifted her eyes to stare at him from beneath her lashes. "Because if you do, I'll bring you back to life just to kill you myself," she challenged.

John grinned. That was a threat he could live with.

Fluff 12: He's so pretty I think I'm going to faint.

Serin Osman settled into the chair with a tired sigh. The massive woman across the table stared at a fixed point on the wall behind her, her face a somewhat adorable approximation of a pout. "Talk to me, Spartan," the captain said firmly. "Something's obviously wrong."

Naomi-010 dropped her head into her hands. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she groaned. "I can't focus, I can't sleep... it's like I'm possessed. This has never happened before."

Serin sat up straighter in her chair. This kind of fatigue was important to meet head-on when dealing with long-term missions behind enemy lines. "What's distracting you?" she asked in a measured tone.

As she waited for Naomi's answer, Serin's mind immediately began processing potential causes. Burnout - unlikely, but possible. Survivor's guilt - given the number of Spartan casualties of the past few months, a much higher probability. Exhaustion - the most likely by far.

Naomi pulled in a shaky breath before finally answering in a quiet voice; "Vaz."

Serin blinked. Then she blinked again. "Come again?" she asked, smoothing out her uniform in an attempt to disguise her mounting confusion.

The Spartan didn't lift her head from her hands. "Corporal Beloi," she confirmed, sounding absolutely miserable. "I can't stop thinking about him. I feel like I'm going insane.

Captain Osman did her best not to let a smirk show on her face. She suddenly didn't feel quite so bad about her own flirtations with Sergeant Geffen. "Is there something going on between you two?" she asked, trying to broach the topic carefully to avoid shutting the Spartan down.

Naomi shook her head vehemently. "No. At least... I don't think so." Finally, she lifted her eyes to look at Serin. "That's the problem though. I want there to be." Then she dropped her head back to the table with an audible thunk. "He's so pretty," she said pathetically. "I think I'm going to faint."

Now Serin couldn't keep the smile off her face. She didn't even try. To her credit, she at least didn't laugh out loud.

"What do I do?" Naomi asked, her voice muffled by the table she had shoved her face into.

Serin gently reached out and carefully patted the back of Naomi's hand, doing the most comforting thing she could think of at the moment. "Well... there's only one thing you really can do," she said slowly. Naomi lifted her face. There was hope in her eyes. "The next time we make port somewhere, buy him a drink," Serin proposed.

Naomi dropped her head again. "I was afraid you would so that," she moaned.

Misc. 1: All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.

"So, what do you do for fun?"

Senator Chuchi - Riyo, he reminded himself again - had such a light way of speaking. Like her words could just up and float away if they wanted to. She was wandering around Fox's office, trying to act as though the Spartan accommodations were at all interesting.

The clone knew, subconsciously, that the shelves on his office wall were supposed to be for holostills. For souvenirs from planets visited. For keepsakes from friends and family. He didn't have any of those things. So instead he had filled his shelves with extra charge packs, a few thermal detonators, and even the parts to a Z6 Rotary Canon for him to put together whenever the stress was too much to focus on paperwork.

"No time for 'fun,' Ma'am," he responded gruffly. "I have too much work to do."

Riyo circled away from the sparse 'decorations' adorning his walls and turned back to Fox. She reached out to pick up his helmet from where it had been sitting on his desk. Part of him wanted to snap at her. To take the helmet out of her hands and reprimand her for touching the kit of a Marshal Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic.

The rest of him knew that he would never be able to snap at Riyo. She could arm one of those thermal detonators and ask him to sit on it until it exploded for her and his only answer would be, "Yes, thank you."

To say he was in trouble when it came to the Pantoran Senator Riyo Chuchi would be an understatement of mythic proportions.

Riyo's delicate hands ghosted over the painted patterns on his helmet. She'd asked him, once, if the symbols meant anything. They didn't. He just thought that it looked nice. When he'd told her as much, she smiled at him as though that in and of itself meant something. She always smiled at him like that. Like he meant something.

"Come on, Fox," she goaded. There was a smile on her full, perfect lips that tasted like Jogan fruit. "There has to be something that you do for fun."

Fox glanced up at her from his datapad, offering her a rare half-smile. "You've known me long enough to know I don't understand fun, Senator. All I do is drink caf and swear at my troopers."

Riyo drew up to her full height. She wasn't a large woman. He couldn't help but smirk at her attempted intimidation display.

"And you have known me long enough to know that I hate when you call me that, Commander," she said sternly. She was the only person in the galaxy who got away with calling him by his name more frequently than by his rank.

For some reason, he hated it when she called him by his rank. It sounded wrong.

Riyo regarded him with a stern expression for several seconds before giving in and smiling again. "Well... we'll just have to find something fun for you, then," she said carefully. "Next time maybe I'll bring a board game along."

No matter how often they did this - which was almost daily - Fox couldn't help but worry it would be the last time. He felt an excited thrill tremble down his spine as she spoke so casually about next time.

Judging by the softening smile on her face, Riyo seemed to be reading his thoughts. She did that a lot. Sometimes he was convinced that she was a Jedi... or maybe he really just wore his heart on his sleeve. Or his face, as it were. Either way, Riyo was suddenly standing very close to him, her citrus-scented shampoo that she had used every day since he complimented it in passing once filling his nostrils and her hands delicately meshing in his black hair.

The first two fingers of one hand rested on the point of his chin, and she turned his face toward her. His eyes slid shut automatically, and then her lips were on his. They were soft, and full, and perfect. Just like the rest of her. She lingered longer than was strictly necessary - as if any of this were strictly necessary - and Fox soaked up every second he possibly could.

Finally, Riyo drew back. "I have to get going," she said, her eyes wide and vulnerable and sad. She always looked sad when she had to go. It broke his heart... but it also filled him with something else. A happier feeling. Pride, maybe, that such a perfect creature could possibly miss him.

"I'll miss you," he breathed. The words slipped out by accident, but he didn't retract them. What would be the point? They were true. He missed her every moment she wasn't around.

Riyo smiled, and it was more powerful than the light of Coruscant's star stabbing through the planet's ever-present toxic cloud cover. He basked in that light. Sometimes it felt more important to him than oxygen. "I'll miss you too," she sighed, her words barely audible.

Then she kissed him again. Then she was gone. She paused in the doorway, turning over her shoulder to say, "I'll see you tomorrow, Fox."

The door slid shut behind her. Once it did, and he was sure that no one could see him, Fox let a full-fledged smile fill his face.

He couldn't wait.

---

Thanks for the prompts! This was fun. Also thanks to @thefinaljediknight and @helix-studios117 for helping me decide which pairings to use! I'm also tagging @makowrites because there's some Vaz/Naomi going on and I'd hate to think she missed that.

[historicalasiandramas]

CLJ Recaps

This episode took me two days to watch because the secondhand embarrassment was too much. The second time through was much funnier because I got to see Xunfeng stare at Orchid!DFQC like "wtf is wrong with you?"

Other than Xunfeng's perfect bombastic side eye, I am obsessed with his armor here! He's got crystals practically growing out of him.

We found out last time that Rong Hao has spies in Cangyan Sea, and I wondered how that was possible. I found the answer to that at the end of this ep.

Orchid!DFQC is presented the leader of these spies and then expected to kill him to show his power. Obviously, Orchid doesn't want to kill one of her own. In fact, she can barely even wield DFQC's sword. While SQ and the other lords make confused expressions, Xunfeng is watching like a hawk. In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't figured out yet that there's something wrong with his brother's power.

Orchid manages to get off without killing the spymaster by using him to send a threat back to Yunzhong. Meanwhile DFQC!Orchid apparently has enough physical strength to twist a grown man's arm. Since Orchid is not a violent person, she would have never known that. Moon Supreme also has the advantage of the bone orchid bracelet, which will protect Orchid's body from harm. He knows exactly how to use it since he's the one who gave it to her and has no trouble breaking out of his cell.

Meanwhile courtesans are kicked out by Orchid and gather in the hallway to question Shang Que as to why Moon Supreme would reject them.

DFQC himself confirms it later, but he is a virgin and also not good at dealing with women. SQ orders the women to stay away from Moon Supreme's chambers in the future unless specifically called for.

And then immediately after, SQ is summoned to Moon Supreme's chamber XD The music gets silly and SQ starts acting awkward. He declares that he would die for DFQC but seems to think that either he's gonna get fucked or DFQC is gonna ask to be fucked. It doesn't make things better when Orchid literally drags him onto the bed.

Poor awkward dragon!

Orchid absolutely does not notice and instead asks about the past and what kind of person DFQC was before. She lies and says that due to an injury, she can't remember and that her magic is damaged. It's funny cuz this is actually true for Orchid herself but it's just a ruse here.

Obviously in a place where the powerful are respected, there's no way DFQC would be accepted as Moon Supreme if he can't even defend the position. Since Orchid asked, I'm pretty sure SQ will do his best to help cover up any supposed lapse in power until Orchid & DFQC can switch back.

Before SQ can say anything else, DFQC storms in and pins Orchid to the bed.

"Are you gonna watch from there?" SQ decides that he absolutely does not wanna get mixed up in whatever the hell is going on here, so he hurriedly leaves.

Meanwhile in Haishi City, it's confirmed that one of the courtesans was actually a spy! She confirms that DFQC is holding on Rong Hao's master's Destiny Book. It's time to attack directly, but Die Yi has her doubts.

Moon Supreme doesn't trust anyone and all their spies (other than the courtesan that just left I guess?) were cleared out. How will they defeat him? Don't worry! Rong Hao knows a guy!

That guy turns out to be Xunfeng! It's been 30k years and he hasn't forgiven his brother for killing their father. How useful for devious darling!

And speaking of DFQC killing his father, Orchid has questions about that. Since the Moon Tribe favors strength, she assumes there's a law or unspoken rule that if you defeat someone you must kill them. Moon Supreme says there is no such rule.

Oh my gods, Orchid! You can't ask something so plot important this early in the show! We don't get an answer for that because it's time for another really big reveal.

Not only could it be argued that Xunfeng is the reason for his brother's capture (due to not arriving in time), but he was also the one who helped Rong Hao build Haiyi City. This is absolutely DELICIOUS information!!

Also before this secret meeting in the woods, I didn't really think Xunfeng was particularly pretty. But there's something about his eyes that just??

When he was glaring at DFQC before, Xunfeng's head was angled slightly downward, making him look intimidating. Here, it's the opposite. His head is angled up and his eyes are narrowed so that it looks like he's looking down at Rong Hao.

Unlike his brother, Xunfeng is ruled by his emotions: particularly anger. Because he's so bent on avenging his father, Xunfeng doesn't even realize that he's at Rong Hao's mercy. I noticed that Rong Hao speaks gently to Xunfeng - like a father would.

When he tilts his head and asks this, Rong Hao is almost sweet. Like literally anyone with half a brain cell would be like "a man capable of secret machinations like this can absolutely not be trusted," but Rong Hao made it sound like he's forever indebted to Xunfeng.

His mind games are absolutely next level and I am unfortunately a huge simp for that kind of character.

Look at that smirk. That's my gender and my religion. You make a characters smirk and I am their stan first and a person second.

Unfortunately a new toxic ship has sailed and I kinda ship Rong Hao and Xunfeng now WHOOPS

[skylarstarlight]

OHHHHH SKYLAR.

BOY DO I HAVE AN IDEA FOR YOU.

Okay hear me out on this; what if when Jouno joined the Hunting Dogs isn’t the first time he’s met them?

Like hear me out on this for a quick second;

It was an undercover party and the first time and last time Fukuchi sent them on a mission regarding a mafia, an extremely powerful one at that, that wasn’t the Port Mafia.

See, I like to think Jouno is someone who is a MASTER at acting. Like I think he wanted to be an actor when he was younger and his mom was like “okay, you can be an actor AND an assassin executive”

Like I’m imagining Teruko complaining about having to be in a scratchy and WAY too expensive dress that Fukuchi had to promise her he’d make her President for her to wear.

And imagine Jouno’s cover gets blown and he ends up having to fight Teruko, and she’s got him pinned and repeatedly telling him to stay down while he’s struggling and with a scream, he smashes something over her head and steps back to think of something and take a breather.

Like Teruko got pretty banged up in the fight but she ended up winning the like the girl boss she is ✨

While Jouno knocked Tecchou out A WHILE AGO

And I’m thinking of the way he did it and I think he would use Tecchou’s tie, like undo it while fighting, and wrap it around his arm and just do his magic.

Like imagine Jouno having Tecchou’s own tie around Tecchou’s arm and making him punch himself

And to be petty, doing the iconic “Stop hitting yourself” line.

Anyway *gives you this and runs away*

HBFHHFIHUFH JOUNO WOULD ABSOLUTELY DO THAT AND DAMN ID SUPPORT HIM EVERY STEP OF THE WAY

EXPERT actor the likes of which you have never seen

Then running into them to join them like "Hiiii.... how ya doinnnn...?" ITD BE SO AWKWARD BUT SO FUNNY

Tecchou wouldn't hold a grudge, dare I say he'd still be kind of impressed and immediately goes "Well they do know how to fight" because well if Fukuchi says Jouno is a good guy now who's he to doubt authority right

Meanwhile Teruko does hold a grudge about the beating over the head, but it's forgiven after a few piggy back rides

[stupidgalaxybrain]

I’M SO GLAD I GOT TO FINISH THE MAGOLOR EPILOGUE BECAUSE HOLY-

SPOILERS - FRESH OFF THE PRESS THEORIES - LONG POST

Okay so I already guessed the final battle would either be Morpho Knight because Magolor messed up big time and kind of died? Or the Master Crown in some form.... I was not prepared for what that second idea would even mean, and I have to say now the Master Crown is one of the coolest looking bosses I’ve ever seen. It’s like if Whispy Woods was designed to be the final boss (and because Whispy is skipped in the Epilogue that’s probably intentional!)

But as cool as it was, it wasn’t a twist per se. No, the twist was the game lowkey implying the Kirby Clash games are canon, or at the very least canon to the epilogue??? I’m pretty loose with what non-canon material I tie into my headcanons or theories, but I kind of left Clash to the side and immediately my mind started racing with what that teaser at the end means.

Because Magolor is holding a gem apple sapling in the last moments of the Epilogue, which we know now is where the tree in the game comes from, and those apples are PIECES OF THE MASTER CROWN. And he’s cultivating them in another dimension as currency? I’m not saying he’s planning a super evil apple empire but it might imply the apples are like a safer power boost being remnants of the crown? Or just bombs, like we see in Star Allies lol. Still, that’s a bit freaky to find out now. 

And it gets better because Clash clearly takes place in another timeline, or dimension, and this honestly makes way more since now! Magolor traveled to that version of time and made himself a little business, and it’s probably exactly what he did to make Merry Magoland, and why it’s said to be in a ”different world in a different time”. It’s either in the Clash universe or another one he’s traveled to, and Magolor gives Kirby and co. the interdimensional car keys as an apology. 

I always thought after RTDL, Magolor would eventually make amends in his own, Magolor way, and be hanging around with the park in Dream Land, but it makes so much more sense he pops in and out, running different businesses in different dimensions. Definitely makes it less awkward if he’s not Kirby’s neighbor, and this also makes our ability to summon him whenever in Star Allies so much funnier. 

The story implications here are a bit wild, like the fact Magolor might have met an alternate Taranza before the main cast? Or visited the Parallel Dimension? I’ve got to do more research first, so take all these initial thoughts with a grain of salt, but speaking of Taranza…

Okay so there’s a portrait of Magolor in that one room in Triple Deluxe, we know it, we talk about it. I still don’t think it’s a big deal lore wise, but here me out here on something I realized. Did anyone else think the apple design was a bit… familiar? And it’s ability to both grow a large plant, and grant a lot of power? 

[lailyn]

Going Under

Summary: If there was one good thing about the TVA, it was Mobius.

Set in the middle of S2E3

"Hey, B-15's called us for a briefing." Mobius poked his head into the darkened room. "Thought you and I could grab something to eat before she chewed us out, you think you're up for it?"

"You go right ahead," a weak voice answered from somewhere underneath the blanket. "I'm feeling a bit unwell."

"What's wrong? You seemed fine an hour ago."

"Well, they don't call me the Amazing Loki for nothing," the lump on the bed mumbled. "I am, after all, the Master of Illusions."

Mobius took in the dimmed light, the curtains drawn, and made an educated guess. "Is it your head?"

A shock of unruly dark hair abutting the top half of a high forehead appeared. "To start with, yeah."

Mobius sighed. "I'm not surprised. You took quite the fall in front the whole of Chicago. I'd be too embarrassed to get out of bed too."

He sat down gently on the bed. "Can I get you anything? Tylenol, aspirin, something stronger?"

More of Loki's face emerged, and Mobius found himself wincing; the god was so pale Mobius could see the veins pulsating at his temples.

"I've taken the liberty of plundering your medicine cabinet. If I were any more medicated, I would be radioactive," Loki muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Mobius clicked his tongue in sympathy, for he knew just how high Loki's pain threshold was.

"That bad, huh." After an awkward pause, "She looks tiny but I guess her blows packed quite a punch."

Loki groaned. "Enough rubbing my nose in it, Mobius."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Mobius said quietly.

"Feels like you were."

"You were trying not to hurt her. I get it now."

Loki gave a little scoff. "A lot of good that did all of us. Victor still got away."

"Hey, we found him once, we can find him again."

"And Renslayer." Loki peered at his friend blearily. "You seem to be handling it well, seeing her again."

"You know me. Diplomacy first and foremost. Failing that, guilt-tripping."

"There isn't a shred of guilt to be found in that woman. You had every authority to take her in by force."

Mobius shrugged. "Sometimes holding back is a sign of strength. I learned that from you."

Loki rolled his eyes and immediately regretted it as pain exploded behind his temples. "Yeah, tell that to Sylvie. I tried your cerebral approach, and all I got to show for it is a concussion."

Mobius' eyes were deep wells of sympathy. "You'll live."

"I'll live," Loki agreed wearily. "I always do."

"Attaboy." Mobius slapped Loki's blanket-clad thigh lightly. "Rest up. When you feel like eating, let me know. I brought us back a little treat from the fair."

Loki made a face. "Not Cracker Jack again."

"Are you kidding? Who goes to the same concession stand twice?" Mobius asked incredulously. "Wait till you try it. No one does beef like Chicago. No one did better beef than Chicago 1893."

"You sure it's fit for consumption?" Loki eyed his partner warily. "It's nineteenth century meat."

"You had no problem eating Kablooie," Mobius pointed out. "That was sixteenth century, at least."

"That was candy. Candy's different."

Mobius snorted lightly. "Of course it is."

They shared a chuckle before it was abruptly cut short by Loki's little gasp of pain. He reached for his head, only to find that Mobius had beat him to it.

"You don't have to - " he started, but Mobius shushed him.

"Shh." Gentle fingers massaged his temples in slow, circular motion. "Just close your eyes, and try to relax."

"I need to get through to her, Mobius," Loki mumbled. "I just don't know how."

"We'll work it out," Mobius said soothingly. "Together."

"I'm so tired," Loki whispered. "But I can't afford to be, can I?"

Mobius did not answer for a long time. "This is not on you, Loki."

This is on you, Sylvie had said, when Victor Timely made his escape, and fools of them all.

Who should I believe, then? Loki asked silently. You or Sylvie?

"Stop it," Mobius admonished. "Stop thinking."

"I'd sooner stop breathing. My mind is all I have."

"You Lokis are so damn stubborn," Mobius muttered under his breath. "Not to mention reckless. How y'all managed to live this long I'll never know."

"The Norns have a twisted sense of humour," Loki said bitterly. "Just read my file. It's not for the lack of trying that I'm still living."

"Stop." Mobius' voice was harder now. "Enough with this, Loki. Have some goddamn sense of self-preservation. You're alive for a reason. Find it."

Loki opened his eyes slowly. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise to me," Mobius grumbled. "I'm not the one doubting myself."

Loki drew in a deep, shuddery breath. "I'll try harder. I promise."

"Yeah, that can wait," Mobius said kindly. "When you're feeling better."

He stood to leave, but when Loki tried to do the same, his eyes narrowed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"The briefing - "

"I said," Mobius articulated each word so there was no mistaking his meaning, "- the briefing can wait."

"But we have to - hey!" Loki's protests fell on deaf ears; despite being the smaller of the two, Mobius somehow managed to manhandle Loki back into bed.

"I've got it, Loki," Mobius said firmly. "I work here. You don't."

Loki swallowed hard to quell his nausea and frustration both. "Mobius…"

"I've got you."

Be it from the weight of Mobius' hand on his chest or the sudden cold compress on his head, Loki felt instantly comforted. Despite his disequilibrium, a calmness befell him, and with it, a stark realisation that throughout his long life, there had not been many he could trust, but this man right here, with his sad eyes and kind smile?

Loki trusted this man with his life.

"Okay, Mobius," he conceded with a sigh. "Okay."

"Attaboy."

[suzukiblu]

Expanded version of Tim's next scene in the Core Four poly-pocket soulmate AU, with a read-more for length.

The adorability of Pockets as a concept y'all can thank @bucky-boychik-barnes for.

Tim's Pocket refuses to wear a mask, which is an issue. He doesn't want to wear the tiny wire-rimmed glasses either, or even change out of his weird straps-and-belts version of the Superman suit into . . . literally anything else, at this point. Tim would take anything else. They've given him options, but he's refused them all. He won't take off the costume.

Also he won't stop flying around the cave like a bat out of hell, and it's seriously annoying.

"Have you successfully selected a name for your Pocket, Master Tim?" Alfred inquires as he pours everyone tea at the table while Bruce is staring assessingly at Tim's Pocket, including four little Pocket-sized cups' worth–one for Bruce's Cat ("Kitty" to the tabloids), one each for Dick's Red and Star, and one for Tim's . . . whoever.

Alfred doesn't have a Pocket of his own. Tim's always felt too awkward to ask about it.

And Jason never got a Pocket at all.

"No, not yet," Tim says, because the whole no-mask/yes-cape issue has been a lot more immediately concerning than naming him. He can't take a Pocket Superman home to his dad. Pocket Clark Kent is going to be bad enough.

Assuming Tim's Pocket ever puts the stupid glasses on, anyway.

"You should get on that," Dick advises as he picks up his teacup with an appreciative nod of thanks to Alfred and takes a sip. "Red got really mad at me when I didn't name her right away. I mean, like, naming Pockets is so . . . outsider, you know? And kinda gilly, too. But that's how Babs grew up, obviously, and I don't know how they did it on Krypton, but Uncle Clark was raised by gadje too, so . . ."

Tim understood absolutely none of that, but just nods like he did and makes a note to go do some research later.

"Sure," he says, just hoping he can convince his Pocket to ditch the damn cape sooner than later. Red wheels her tiny wheelchair over to the Pockets' nicely-set little tea table and ignores Star floating down to land in the seat across from her. They don't usually get along very well, which is a little weird to see in Pockets who didn't come from people who are, like, on the literal opposite ends of the ethical spectrum, especially ones that belong to the same person, but they both settle in all the same. Cat does an artful flip off of Bruce's caped shoulder down to the table and then strolls over to join them. Tim's Pocket looks curious, but stays hovering in the air just over his shoulder.

Is his Pocket, like, antisocial or something? Is that a concern? Usually Pockets group up really easily, from what Tim knows. Not that he's ever had one before, and admittedly his parents' had always mostly ignored each other, but . . . normally they do, right?

Cat chirps impatiently and makes a beckoning gesture at Tim's Pocket, but he, very weirdly, sort of floats backwards and almost . . . hides behind Tim's head. Just for a moment, but . . .

Weird, Tim thinks. Weird, and not very Superman-like. Pockets are usually a bit more emotionally honest than the people they come from, but Superman's met Cat as many times as Bruce has met Laney, so why would a Pocket that came from him ever hesitate to go over to her?

Star chirps too, holding out her arms and starting to glow with intensely bright solar radiation that would only be an encouraging gesture to a Kryptonian, Tim is sure. It does the job, though, and his Pocket pauses for just a moment longer, then goes to the visible effort to put on a bright grin and darts over to land beside her. She immediately starts chattering at him in Pocket-talk and he chatters back easily, and Tim then has to witness his own damn Pocket start undeniably flirting with one of Dick's Pockets.

He has never been more mortified in his life, he thinks right up until his Pocket turns his head and starts flirting with Cat.

Tim disassociates a little. Like. Just a bit.

Or a lot.

"Hm," Bruce says while Tim is busy dying of mortification, his eyes narrowing assessingly. Star is happily flirting back at Tim's Pocket, to Tim's absolute horror, but worse, Cat is actually humoring him.

Tim has died and this is hell. There's no other explanation whatsoever for this.

Cat reaches over and scritches his Pocket behind the ears. He looks startled, then visibly zones out for a moment, and then leans into the contact and purrs. Cat chirps approvingly, Star laughs, and Red snorts, but fondly.

Tim is definitely, definitely in hell right now. Oh god. What is happening right now and why is it happening to him?

"Well, he's got aspirations, I'll give him that," Dick says wryly as he leans back in his chair. "Though I don't think Lois Lane would appreciate them."

"It's not Superman," Bruce states matter-of-factly. Tim and Dick both blink; Tim's Pocket immediately scowls.

"You sure, B?" Dick asks skeptically. "He looks just like him. And he literally showed up wearing the El crest."

"I knew Smallville," Bruce says, ignoring Tim's stubbornly glowering Pocket. "He was nothing like this Pocket. And Superman is undeniably dead. Believe me. We checked."

Of course Bruce checked, Tim thinks. They know so little about Kryptonian physiology, after all, and even less about how Kryptonian physiology works under a yellow sun. It's not as if Earth is spoiling for other Kryptonians.

And Clark Kent was Bruce's friend.

So of course he checked.

"It is true that Mr. Smallville did have a markedly different personality from the one our new young Master Pocket seems to," Alfred says, delicately setting a tiny tray of tiny Pocket-sized treats on their tea table. Tim has no idea how Alfred even makes cookies that small, but he does it. "I don't think I ever once saw him in any semblance of Superman's costume at all, in fact."

Tim's Pocket looks briefly puzzled, and then very worried. Tim isn't sure what to think about that, but it makes him feel a little useless. He doesn't know how to take that worried look off his Pocket's face, but he feels like he should be able to do something about it all the same.

He tells himself–soon. Once he knows him a little better. He'll be able to do it then.

Or he hopes he will, anyway.

Star and Cat get Tim's Pocket to sit down at the table and scoot their chairs in to pin him between them, which seems to help more than Tim was going to be able to figure out how to. At least, his Pocket looks a bit less anxious about the conversation now.

He's still shooting Bruce sullen little glowers, admittedly, but one step at a time.

"Maybe your Pocket's just really work-focused, Robin," Dick observes wryly, and Tim's Pocket immediately laser-focuses in on him and jumps back to his feet so fast he knocks over his chair and nearly Star and Cat and the tiny tea table too.

"Rob!" he shouts excitedly, definitely not in Pocket-talk, and Tim blinks down at him in bewilderment, trying to figure out if he just hallucinated hearing that or not. That was–that was so fast for a Pocket to have picked up their first non-Pocket word. Most Pockets don't even care to learn more than a handful of those, and certainly not so quickly. And Tim's not an expert on Pockets, obviously, but . . .

"Hm," Bruce says.

"You probably do need to name him pretty soon, if he's already latched onto your name this quick," Dick says, leaning forward a little bit to peer a little closer at Tim's Pocket. Tim's Pocket ignores him to grin delightedly up at Tim, which Tim feels very weird about. No one ignores Nightwing for him. Ever.

He guesses if anyone would, it'd be his Pocket, but still.

"That's not technically my name," he reminds Dick. Dick had it first, after all, and Jason had it too. Tim just . . .

He didn't even inherit it, really. It's not like Jason deliberately left it to him or anything. He doesn't even know what Jason would think of a Robin like him.

His Pocket scowls again.

"Rob!" he insists loudly, flying up into Tim's face so fast he nearly smacks into it. "Rob! Rob!"

"Tim," Tim corrects, although obviously his Pocket isn't going to pick up two words on his first day of existing, it's just–

". . . Tim?" his Pocket repeats uncertainly, his brow furrowing as he stares much too intently at Tim.

Tim has absolutely no excuse for how red his face turns.

"Hm," Bruce says again.

[cheerstotheelites-if]

Oooo, prompt time again! Here's a fluff one from the master list.

"I got these because I know they're your favorite."

W/ Ophelia ❤️

I honestly have no idea what master list you were looking at, Anon, because I know I rb'd the enemies to lovers one and was expecting a prompt related to it. 😭

Though this is fine too, don't worry. 👌

~•~•~

Gifts are something foreign in the Edevane household.

It was never a love language to begin with, often instead resorting to words or a simple pat on the shoulder.

It's the void of that language that Ophelia grew up living with, and a reason why expectations are held so low on receiving, well, anything material. She doesn't outright asks, but the yearning seeps through the cracks every now and then. She wouldn't mind receiving a gift, even if it was something simple like a standard pencil, she would treasure it for life.

Alas, Ophelia knows the possibilities of such wishful thinking are just that, wishful thinking. No one's going to give the weird girl, who's into strong gore and monsters, something so pleasant.

Besides, trash deserves trash, right?

Isn't it how that's supposed to work?

Ophelia blinks out of her confusion, as she looks up from the gift bag that you're currently showing her, then back to you. There is a smile on your face, excited and eager.

"I..." Ophelia starts, only to trail off for a moment as her confusion returns again. "Congratulations to you?"

"What? No." You huff, the hand holding the gift bag falling to your side as you pout. "I got you a gift, Ophelia."

Her eyebrows raise in both surprise and the still lingering confusion. "Oh."

Really? 'Oh'? That's it? Ophelia holds back the urge to grimace at herself. Gods above, why is she so awkward? Why did the Pantheon made her to be awkward?

"You sound disappointed." You say, more of an observation than taking offense.

"No, I'm just—!" Ophelia vaguely made some gestures as she tries to grasp her next words. "—just surprised... and confused. Why give me a gift...?"

"Well, I just want to." You simply state, smile returning and offered up the gift bag. "Here. I hope you like it."

Hesitantly, Ophelia's hands reach out, gingerly taking the gift bag from your hand. She opens it, both not expecting much, yet at the same time curious to what it is.

...

Oh.

This is...

She pulls out a set of charcoal pencils from the gift bag. It's an expenive set, with metal case and brand name in gold, and all.

"How..." She looks at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "How did you get this? Don't tell me you loaned from Fleur."

"Oh gods no!" You exclaim immediately. "I'd still be paying her until my death bed because of how much interest it'll stack. I just saved up my allowance for a while." You simply shrug. "I saw you eyeing it a few weeks ago, so I just thought, why not surprise you?"

Ophelia frowns a bit. "You really didn't have to do that. I could've just bought them on my own."

"Well, yeah, but I did it anyway." You grin at her, hands on your waist now. "I got them, because I know that brand of charcoal pencils are your favorite."

Ophelia stands there for a moment, staring at you in shock. Her head dips down to her chest not too long after, the tip of her ears reddening heavily.

"You're forever going to be an enigma to me." Ophelia mumbles out.