#and to convince him to stop being such a weenie

[knockknockitsnickels]

God I don't want to be too harsh because I know nobody means any harm by it but the way people analyze the Voices drives me crazy sometimes. Not even in the sense that I disagree with what's being written, but more in the sense of how these analyses treat the Princess.

I feel like in a certain section of the fandom there's this reluctance to admit that the Voices aren't always "positive" (for lack of a better term) characters? You'll see people give lip service to the idea that "it's good for a character to have flaws!" and then turn around and try to excuse their worst moments (and it's like. You don't have to do that. You can still like them).

And one of the consequences of this type of analysis is that the way the player's and the voice's actions affect the Princess is downplayed. I have seen analyzes of Happily Ever After which barely even mention the Princess, because they're so fixated on defending Smitten. I've seen people write off entire chapters as "bad" just because they didn't like the way the Voices were acting (with, again, barely a mention of the Princess). The Greys and the Witch chapters are arguably where both the Player and the Voices are at their worst, but fans will still twist around to make the Princess the sole villain of the story.

I don't know. I hate making these kinda posts because I don't want to shame anyone from writing/drawing something they love. But as a big fan of the Princess it's really saddening to see her pushed aside in favor of the male characters.

[ninikrumbs]

taste me too

Satoru Gojo x reader. fluff. domestic satoru. teeny weeny bit of angst

Ever since you started dating Satoru, you have never felt that tinge of loneliness you use to feel. Not that you minded being alone. It was peaceful.

You used to go watch a movie in the cinema alone. Eat at that new restaurant with a table for one. Have cozy nights in with homemade face masks and belting out to your favorite singer of the week, self care and whatnot. In your opinion, why miss out on the things you want to do just because you’re on your own?

But now, you look to the side and there’s another hand in your popcorn basket, just as giddy for the Barbie movie. You look down at your plate and you see your steak already sliced for your convenience under the romantically lit restaurant. The man in front of you with bright blue eyes, gazing at you so endearingly with a goofy grin on his face as he listened to you babble about your day. And lastly, it wasn’t just you belting out on your hairbrush with a matcha green face mask on his face and a headband pulling back his snowy white hair.

Maybe you didn’t mind being alone, but with Satoru sitting on top of the toilet seat as he gazes up at you almost reverent like - silently waiting for his turn to try out the new lip balm you bought for the cold winter months-always wanting to be included, your eyes burn.

“Toru, stop staring.”

He pouts, “I’m just waiting for you to be done.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before you continue swiping the new balm on your dry lips, it smells like strawberry. Satisfied, you smack your lips together with a grin. Lips now soft and moisturized. “Wow! its really nice and doesn’t feel sticky.”

You turn to Satoru to hand him the lipbalm. To your surprise, he was already standing up, looking at you expectantly. “My turn, my turn!”

You laugh at his excitement, shaking your head fondly. “Here.”

You missed the mischievous glint in his eyes as his hand reaches up to supposedly grab the lipbalm from your hand. He then seemingly misses and cups your face instead. You were slightly taken aback, confused at what he was doing. “Toru what-”

You were cut you short when he leans down and plants his lips on your newly glossed ones. Your mind somewhat convinced yourself that he was ruining your lipstick so you push him back a bit. “Toru-”

But to no avail, as he pulls you by waist, flushed to his chest. He angles his head and kisses you again, deeper this time. It makes you feel warm and hazy. The smacking of lips echoes throughout the bathroom, the balm only making it more distinct. You grab onto the collar of his sweater to ground yourself. The kiss is slow and passionate and as he licks your bottom lip, his tongue tangling with yours, you forgot why you were protesting in the first place.

To your dismay, the both of you needed oxygen. You pull away first, his lips chasing yours before you hid your face in his chest, breathing heavily. “Let me breath a sec,”

He wraps his arms around your body and you feel his heart thumping fast through his chest making you smile. He chuckles, the sound flitting through you. “You’re right, it is nice- amazing even.”

You lift you head to glare at him but it has no real force behind it. “You’re shameless, you know that? Here I thought you wanted to try it!”

And he has the gal to grin, “I did try it!” He licks his lips and hums in delight, yet you doubt there were any traces of the lipbalm left. “Tastes so good too.”

Despite everything, you feel your face burn. “Youre officially kicked out of self care night!”

“What? Nooo! Baby, I was just teasing-”

Yes, you might not have any shred of peace ever again, but you don’t mind. Not one bit.

^^ comments are much appreciated <3

[fetishfairytales2]

Besties 3.5 (Story)

This was originally written as a continuation of a story by [no longer active] called Besties.

—————

Besties 3.5: Meeting Ms. Lyndsey

I couldn't stop myself from laughing when Heather whipped out her phone and was like; “Girl, you need to see the fun I have with my sissy girl." And poor Brandon just started begging like the biggest loser ever, using this super pathetic, sissy voice to try to convince Heather. "Pleeeease, Mommy! Don't do it! Please!" Ugh, it was so pathetic; his face was just full-on tears! I had to roll my eyes and try not to laugh in his sissy face as Heather and I exchanged a look of amusement and disgust.

 "Oh, honey, Daddy definitely had a good time with Sissy Brandi, didn’t he?” Heather teased as we were dying laughing, and poor Brandi was sobbing still like a little baby. I didn’t feel bad for the little loser, though; I mean, he totally deserved it for being such a beta. "Come on, let's show Ms. Lyndsey how Daddy likes to play with his sissies! She wants to see it, Brandi! I promise she won’t laugh too much! So, stop being such a cry baby," she winked, shoving the penis pacifier back into Brandi’s mouth.

It was grainy; at first, I could only make out two dark figures on a bed. Then a light came on, and I could see Brandon all dressed up like some sort of frilly doll. He was dressed in an absolutely ridiculous pink ruffled dress with his hands cuffed together and his diaper around his ankles. Humiliating, but totally deserved for someone as pathetic as him. And then this video zooms in on his teeny-weeny little cock, all locked up in that cute pink chastity cage. I can't even. It's too good.

Connor, that stud that he is, was towering over that pathetic sissy, holding Brandon’s legs up in the air and spanking his bare ass! "I asked you a question, you little cucky bitch! Tell me who you belong to, you worthless loser!" Connor was yelling between spanks. Heather was standing behind the camera, laughing her ass off, while Connor continued to dish out the punishment. "You better answer him, Brandi,” she warned with a giggle. “Tell Daddy who owns your worthless ass."  

Brandon finally managed to whimper out the words in his pathetic baby voice. "I… I belong to Mommy and to you, Daddy Connor! Please stop spanking me, pretty please!" 

Connor laughed and swiftly undid his pants, taking the familiar pacifier pinned to Brandon's dress and jamming it between the sissy's quivering lips. "Uh-oh..." Heather laughed again, filled with bitchy amusement. "It looks like someone really managed to piss off Daddy."

Brandi squirmed, but Connor quickly flipped him onto his stomach, pulling him up to his knees by the sissy ponytail in his hair. Brandi whimpered behind his gag and tried like a helpless sissy to crawl away, but Connor just spanked his ass again. “Hold still for ‘Daddy’ Connor boomed, flipping Brandi onto his stomach. Firmly grasping the sissy's hair, Connor pulled Brandi up to his knees. “Just tease him with it, babe,” Heather laughed. “She’s so excited to be a good sissy slut for her Daddy!”

Heather kept directing; she was obviously really into this! “Really make her beg for it! That little slut LOVES being choked!" Connor grabbed ahold of Brandon's throat and commanded his hips to move back. "Look at that slut swaying her hips! Whooo!" Heather laughed at poor Brandon, whose eyes were tightly shut, tears streaming down now. “Aww, what’s wrong, sissy? You don’t like it when Daddy works those sissy hips? Twerk for Daddy Brandi! Be a good girl,” Heather encouraged.

Heather entered the camera frame as she ran over to the simpering, suffering Brandi. She never stopped filming as she started to spank Brandon. "Come on, Brandi," she ordered, her camera zooming in on Brandon's face, "beg him. Beg him for it like a good girl." The sight of Brandon was absolutely ridiculous, with his smeared lipstick and raccoon eyes from the running mascara. His blubbering made him look like the pathetic little baby he was dressed as. 

Heather was sounding totally wicked, and I couldn't get enough of it. I loved this new, bitchy side of her. She lectured her trapped boyfriend like a disappointed mother. "Stop being such a squirmy sissy," she scolded. "Daddy loves Mommy very much, and he'll do anything I ask." She was stroking Brandon’s cheeks like she was trying to soothe him! "I think it's important for you to understand why I chose a real man like Connor instead of a pathetic sissy like you. I really think Daddy Connor is doing both of us a favor." I couldn't believe what I was hearing as I looked up at Heather. "There's no way he's going to..." She just laughed. “I’m telling you, girl, I fucking own Brandi now! Watch, this is the good part!”

I watched as Heather very enthusiastically began stroking Connor’s cock, getting him ready. “Ask Daddy very politely to fuck your bum bum,” she leaned in, talking almost directly in Brandon’s ear; “and thank him afterward, of course!” 

"P...p...p..." *sob*... "Oh my God, Connor, I'm so sorry, man, please..." Brandon broke down in another temper tantrum as he struggled to get the pacifier out of his mouth. But before he could say another word, Heather intervened and took control, slapping Brandon across the face and grabbing his chin. "YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO DADDY LIKE THAT!" She hit him again, this time with even more force. “NOW ASK HIM TO FUCK YOU and do it into the camera in your sweetest fucking sissy voice!” Heather composed herself and zoomed in, perfectly framing Brandon's face. “P…p…pwease Daddy, pwease fuck me so good!!” Brandon begged, as convincingly as possible, through tears.

Connor flashed a cocky grin and thrust into the sissy with a smug look of satisfaction. He started with just the tip of his cock, teasing Brandon before gradually inching it deeper and deeper. “Shhh,” Heather winked before shoving the pacifier gag back into Brandon's mouth roughly and securing it with a strap around his head. “Mmmmph…mppph!” Poor Brandi begged.

"Well, well, it looks like someone's a tight little slut.” Heather laughed before standing up and making a show of letting some spit drip down Brandon's ass. "Since you’re such a naughty little girl, that’s all the lube you get!” She playfully turned to Connor, giving him a sly wink. "Oh, honey, don't go easy on her just because it's her first time. Trust me, she's going to beg for more eventually.”

Just as Brandon was forced into an uncomfortable rhythm, Connor pulled and slapped him hard on the ass. “Faster bitch!” Brandon squealed as Connor pulled out and thrust deeper into him. Heather was loving every minute of it. “That’s it, baby! Make sure our lucky girl feels every inch!” I was almost jealous of Heather; Connor really looked like he knew what he was doing! Poor Brandon, though, wasn't quite prepared for what Connor could do! The smaller sissy was completely at the mercy of such an alpha, and Connor was definitely taking advantage of that. He was practically lifting Brandon up by the hips, slamming the powerless sissy back down. "Wow, he’s fucking him like a porn star!” I giggled as I watched.

I watched Heather take her seat on the bed, looking like a total boss bitch. She grabbed her sissy’s chin, her nails digging into his skin, and made him look at her. "Fuck, this is hot.” With a smug smirk, she cheered Connor on over Brandon’s pleas for mercy: "Treat her like a dirty slut baby! Look! Our sissy girl is loving feeling her Daddy fucking her!” She squeezed Brandon’s tear-stained face into a fake smile around the paci.  “Show Sissy Brandi what a real man can do, make sure that pathetic loser knows why I chose a strong alpha like you." 

Connor must have been into the dirty talk. "Fuck, I'm close," he moaned. Heather faked a gasp and grabbed a hold of Brandi’s ponytail. "Oooh, did you hear that, Sissy? I think Daddy needs a little more to work with, don't you?" I laughed out loud watching Heather start tickling Brandon! He was laughing so hard that he choked on his cock paci and she was tickling him so much that poor sissy's hips started to slam onto Connor’s cock! 

"Good girl!" Heather cooed and giggled. "You don't want to be a dead fish, do you?" Connor grunted as he pushed Brandon further and further into the bed with each thrust. "Fuck…fuck, oh shit," Connor moaned. "Uh-oh, Daddy likes it when you move like that, huh?" Heather teased, sticking her tongue out at Brandon and digging her nails deeper into his sides and armpits. Connor was grunting louder and louder while Sissy Brandi struggled to remain silent as more tears streamed down his face.

"Aww, sissy!” Heather squealed. "You're just drooling at the thought of making Daddy Connor cum, aren't ya, sweetie? I know you just love taking all that real man jizz like the good little slut that you are, don’tcha?" Heather cooed. I was blown away as I watched Connor pull out of Brandon, leaving the poor sissy to collapse on the bed, looking like he had just run a marathon. The video paused. “That’s what 9 inches looks like girl,” Heather whispered with a laugh as she saw my shocked face expression. “He’s so good, I fucking love it! Watch though; it’s almost over.

I couldn't look away from the screen as Heather grabbed Brandon's hair, pulling him towards the edge of the bed. "Come on, Sissy, it's not over yet!" she purred while pulling Brandi down beside her to kneel in front of Connor. She eagerly tugged on Conner‘s cock; she was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Almost there, baby,” Connor grunted. With a smile, Heather stepped back and gestured for Brandon to take over. "Make Daddy cum like the good little submissive slut you are," she laughed, removing the sissy’s pacifier gag. 

“Show him how you enjoyed him popping your sissy cherry! Sissy Brandi’s hand moved mechanically; he was exhausted and broken. Heather slapped him across the back of the head. "Do it with feeling, slut! Like those gross porn stars you used to watch until I locked your cock up! Give it a little sissy kiss too.”

Brandon hesitated as he lowered his head towards Connor's groin; he was totally grossed out by the thought of tasting his own ass. But before he could back out, Heather shoved his head all the way down to Connor's balls. “No, no, no sissy cum breath,” she chided him with a laugh. “Get down there!” Poor Brandon was drooling and gagging like a champ!

“Get a move on, Brandi!" Heather barked, yanking him by the hair and guiding him forcefully. "Work that shaft up and down; we ain't got all day, princess!" She let go of his hair, but not before giving him a slap on the back of the head. "Now, be a good little Daddy's girl and finish the job!"

I loved watching Brandon be so thoroughly humiliated, but I think Heather was living for it. I watched as she gripped the back of Brandon's neck and forced him to stay in place, his face just inches away from Connor's massive cock. "Don't just stand there, sissy," Heather sneered. "Beg for it, beg for Daddy’s cum on your face!

“P…please cum on my face…d…daddy…” Brandon pathetically begged, giving up his dignity. And with a triumphant sigh, Connor granted his wish, dumping his load on Brandon's face. “Good sissy slut,” Connor laughed, pushing Brandon over. “We do own you now.”

Heather couldn't help but smirk with satisfaction as she put her phone aside. “Nothing but a little sissy bitch now, huh?” She turned with a smile. "Well, I think it's safe to say that Brandon is no longer the biggest bully in town." I laughed, shaking my head in amusement. "He’s definitely been brought down a peg or two.”

[nine-one-wanton]

Continuing the prompts solicited for the rarepairs smutfest in honor of @judymarch15 (These are officially set on slow release, but I *will* get to them all!)

Thank you for your prompts @sunnywithachanceofbi 💜 Here is your first one!

Prompt: “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

Ship: saleddie

Eddie tried to focus on Sal’s words, but it was difficult while he took in the new sights and smells of Sal’s apartment.

The fact that he was standing here.. Alone with Sal at his place.

But he had to get over all the novelty, because he was pretty sure what Sal was saying was important.

“I’m not interested in being anyone’s first anything,” Sal said, which wasn’t super convincing, the way he was running his hands up and down Eddie’s arms. Like he cared about him.

“Well, you’re not my first, per se. I mean, I have had sex before, Sal. I’ve got living proof of it walking around.”

“That’s no fuckin’ way to describe your kid.”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“You know what I mean by ‘first’. It’s like I said to Tommy-“

“I’m not Buck, okay?”

“Okay? Fine. That’s not what I fuckin’ said. But when Tommy started getting involved with-“

“I’m not as young as Buck either.”

“Okay?? Well, I’m not as young as Tommy either! So, what’s your point? And what the fuck are you even arguing here? You don’t even know what I’m trying to say, because you won’t stop butting in.”

“If you don’t want me..” Eddie was surprised by the way the lump in his throat swelled with the apparent rejection. “Then why’d you invite me in?”

“Because,” Sal murmured. “I appreciate you giving me a ride home from game night at those weenies’ house, and.. I wasn’t really ready for you to-“

Eddie rode the wave of impulse and kissed Sal, hoping it felt decisive, with no tentativeness. He needed Sal to know that Eddie knew what he wanted.

Eddie felt Sal’s tight lips soften from their tense surprise, and ease into the kiss.

Sal was actually kissing him back!

When Eddie had to pull back - because in his spur of the moment decision, he hadn’t inhaled before planting his lips in Sal - he was panting.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god..”

Eddie chuckled. “Can’t say that I’m particularly sorry about that time.”

Sal ran a thumb over Eddie’s jawline, across his kiss-swollen lips. He tilted his head slightly. Appraising.

“I would love to ruin this pretty little mouth of yours,” Sal said with awe. “See if that shuts you up.”

“Then do it?”

“Hm. Face-fucking seems kinda advanced. Have you ever given a blowjob?”

“Um, no. But, I mean, it doesn’t seem like rocket science! And do you really just throw around words like face-fucking?”

“News flash, Diaz. Men are pigs. You wanna go down this road, you’ll learn that.”

“I didn’t wanna ‘go down this road‘. I wanted to.. go down on you.”

Sal snorted.

“What?”

Sal walked Eddie up against the wall.

“Why don’t we start with something a little more basic.”

The sound of Sal unzipping his pants made Eddie’s heart speed up.

“Something more familiar,” Sal continued. He turned around and pressed his back against Eddie’s chest. Pinning Eddie’s back to the wall. He took Eddie’s hand and wrapped it around his dick.

Any insecurity that Eddie had had over Sal ‘not wanting him’ vanished when he felt how hard Sal was in his hand.

“Sal, I’m a couple decades past high school, we don’t need to start here.”

“You aged out of handjobs?”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess?”

“Bet you still give yourself one pretty regularly.”

“Yeah, but that’s.. like.. a means to an end. I wanna do something that you actually enjoy.”

“I enjoy your hand on my dick, Eddie.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie enjoyed that too.

And he enjoyed the lusty way that Sal had said his name.

And the way his breathing was hitching when Eddie moved his hand faster and faster and-

“Slow down,” Sal said, surprisingly softly.

“Okay..?”

Eddie was frustrated and embarrassed that his forearm was already beginning to burn.

“I.. Shit, Sal. I think I might suck at this.”

“Cover my hand with yours. Relax your muscles. You don’t have to do anyth-“

“But I want to-!“

“Eddie, I am begging you to shut the fuck up,” Sal whined. “Stop interrupting, and just.. Just.. see how this feels?”

Eddie reluctantly covered Sal’s hand and felt him guiding him back to his hard-on. He felt the pace and rhythm that Sal set. The twisting motion of his hand. Yeah, Eddie hadn’t been doing that.. And sure, maybe like this.. it wasn’t so childish or basic.

And when Eddie heard the soft moans and tiny bitches in Sal’s breathing as he touched himself, it was more erotic that Eddie had ever thought to give a handjob credit for.

Sal leaned his head back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie tilted his face to try to kiss him. It wasn’t the easiest angle, but he managed. And Sal seemed to like it.

Sal pulled out a small bottle of lube.

“Has that been in your pocket all day?” Eddie asked with disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Sal snarked. “Sex on wheels.”

“Well, where’d it come from then?”

“Queer magic,” Sal snorted.

Eddie didn’t think Sal would be able to see him rolling his eyes. But maybe he’d intuit it using his ‘queer magic’.

“When we first got here, I went into the bathroom to take a leak. I grabbed it then.”

Oh.. Eddie thought. “Presumptuous.”

“I’m not the king of perception. But your thirsty ass isn’t the princess of subtlety.”

Eddie snorted.

Sal slicked up his cock before guiding their hands back to Sal’s cock.

Eddie hoped Sal could feel how hard he was, pressing his bulge into the back of Sal’s hip.

Sal let Eddie’s hand be on the inside of his grip now, and he was loving the more skin-to-skin contact. The way the lube helped Sal’s cock to slide in his grip. How this became less of something that Eddie was doing to Sal‘s cock, and more something he was doing with it.

Together.

He’d had penetrative sexual encounters that felt less intimate.

“I’m close,” Sal husked, and a thrill ripped through Eddie.

He hadn’t given much thought to this part before now, and suddenly the thought of feeling Sal’s hot cum in his hand was almost enough to make him bust in his pants.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie told him. The truth just spilling from his lips.

“I like the way you touch me,” Sal told him.

Eddie’s chest warmed with the unexpected praise.

He felt a shudder run through Sal’s body, and Eddie shifted his posture a little to help Sal stand upright as his body went kind of slack in Eddie’s hold.

Eddie couldn’t stop running his hand over the warm wetness now coating his hand and Sal’s dick.

He felt obsessed.

But could also feel Sal getting twitchy and sensitive about it.

“Thank you,” Eddie murmured against Sal’s temple.

“For letting you jerk me off? Any time, gorgeous.”

Eddie chuckled.

“Let’s get you to my bedroom and think of better shit to add to your gratitude list.”

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Down bad for this one today. He always kinda skeeved me out when he was a teenager but seeing him all grown up I was like, damn son. Come Netflix and chill with me. This is so much longer than I intended it to be, not sorry? But thank you for reading it! I really appreciate everyone taking the time to read my stuff and reblogging it if you do that, too! It would have been much shorter if I had been able to just sit down and not be called away from it 12.9 times. But it is what it is. Enjoy!!

*also: art by @/iluvluvnutella // permission for use was posted*

*also also: I purposely used a pic of Makoto as an ADULT. Yeah, I'm well aware the pic in the back is when he was a teenager. NONE of these HC's are about him when he was a teenager.

C/W ::: MDNI UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE.

〽️ Is very sweet.

〽️ Takes you out for ice cream (or whatever) once a week on your agreed upon date night.

〽️ Knows your favorite flower and will bring you one whenever he passes by them.

〽️ Likes to be touching you almost all the time when you're walking around town/shopping.

〽️ Isn't possessive or anything like that, but loves you so much that it's become second nature to him at this point to always have some part of him against some part of you.

〽️ Knows your favorite perfume (and your favorite cologne on him - he wears it because he knows how much it drives you crazy).

〽️ Likes the smell of your armpit.

〽️ Known to yank on his dick every opportunity he could.

〽️ Steals your panties (without your permission - but you still know about it and if it were anyone else, it would definitely bother you but it's your bf so whatevs.)

〽️ Has asked to be tied up more than once.

〽️ Suggests wax play quite often (but doesn't know your secret: he's almost convinced you to do it).

〽️ Has no preference whether or not he's on top or you are. Or in front or behind. Just loves to feel good with you.

〽️ Never really thought about anyone in particular while he jerked off (unless you count those women in magazines in itty bitty teeny weeny bikinis) until he met you. And as far as he's concerned, no one before you matters, anyway.

〽️ Likes to kiss you until you're a complete mess.

〽️ Is not above begging for you.

〽️ Wants you to tease him/edge him. (He's so pretty all sweaty and flustered, his skin flushed and bright pink cheeks, heavy, leaky cock.)

〽️ Will run his fingers all over your body and won't stop a second before you're whimpering and whining about how badly you need him to give you more.

〽️ Won't give you more until he's sure you'll cum just as fast as he does.

〽️ Has a pretty cock and knows it. (He's even admired it in all its glory.)

〽️ Is shaven because he likes how it feels and looks.

〽️ L-o-v-e-s sloppy blowjobs. Like, fluids all over the lower half of your face and upper chest.

〽️ Will make out with you after you're done (even if he doesn't cum, he'll still pull you up to kiss you).

〽️ Hopes you'll make out with him after he's done going down on you, too. (Not because he thinks it's "fair", but because he thinks it's hotter than hell.)

〽️ Sleeps nude.

〽️ Wakes up every morning with a raging boner.

〽️ Makes it well worth your while if you stayed over the night before.

〽️ Makes breakfast with organic and free-range animals because it "makes him sad" to think about their last moments on this planet being shitty. (Has been shut up by your counterargument about how they're last moments on this earth are being killed ... for food - how can they possibly NOT be shitty? And then you thank him for a delicious breakfast.)

〽️ Itadakimasu! (But with real food this time!)

@southside-otaku @viburnt @kazutora-kurokawa @katshimizuu @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

[i-chrystophylux]

Somewhere Outside Reality - Demon Slayer Fanfiction

Chapter Three

(Eenie weenie teenie weenie- **other lyric words**))

~~

Sunlight flood into a small room. A muted green carpet with a plush surface made for a comfortable sleeping space. Paneled walls and wooden accessories lie around the room. 

This sunlight was so warm and inviting. It was.. something of a breath of fresh air. It washed over the sleeping form of Giyuu with such a rejuvinating feeling it was almost like coming back to life. Nearly.

Eye fluttering open, Giyuu clutched his hands and tried to get the blood to circulate through them again. The feeling of static in his limbs was still immense. Hindering any serious movement from freeing him from where he lie. It was discerning. 

'Mmmn... it's warm... my head... hurts...' he found himself weakly grumbling. 

Finally persuading his body to move, he managed to roll over and sit up where he had previously been lay to rest. His back nearly felt as though it was bowing out- ready to just stop supporting the weight of the head on his neck. 

However, steading his hands on the floor- Giyuu managed to hold himself in place. 

'Where am I... what... happened last night...'

Giyuu looked toward a mirror that lie on the wall near himself, and tried to get a good look at himself. Figuring maybe he could understand what happened. He pondered- overserving his own form. 

Long black hair... his haori...black uniform... dazed golden eyes...

Wait...

Giyuu looked at himself in the mirror a minute longer. Something didn't look quite right to him. However, he couldn't tell what was wrong. He couldn't remember. He was so sure something looked wrong, but when he tried to force himself to remember every little detail, it's like everything went blank that he was looking for. 

He soon grew frustrated, still looking at himself in the mirror with a bit of confusion. 'Every time I try to... remember... my mind gets so fuzzy. My arms... legs... everything feels like.. static."

Giyuu had persuaded his body to pull his knees under himself. Just barely getting into a more mobile sitting position before he heard a door creaking and the sound of firm soled sandals on the wooden floor just in front of where the carpet ended.

The water pillars eyes shifted to the doorway- only for his body to shift from the sudden amount of shock that washed over him. 

There, in front of him- just before his very eyes- was Sabito. 

The gentle expression.. rosey ginger hair... a fox mask and his facial scar. 

The black haired hashira found himself not breathing for a moment. Breath hitched somewhere in his throat as he tried to find words to speak. What would he have even said? 

Everything spun in his head like a merry-go-round. Dizzying, and picking up speed. 

Overwhelming waterfalls. Pools of emotion found it's way to his lips as he tried to process the sight right in front of himself. He could barely utter a word, hardly urging out small whispers as he slowly brought his trembling hands up to his chest to clench at his aching heart. 

"Sa... bi... that's...  Someone is pulling a cruel prank on me... this can't be happening..." he was trying to convince himself that whatever was in front of himself was not real. 

He was seeing things. Mad. Dilusional. Crazy... 

Desperate and diluded. 

Despite this, the gentle face of his friend continued smiling as the other boy advanced in his direction. Surprise and denial were both soon replaced by guilt and the building sensations of shock. 

"Good morning... sunshine." The tender smile from Sabito made Giyuu's heart melt, only mixing with the confusing guilt and simmering agony that had made his chest tense. A throbbing heart of pain, being mixed with the sensations of fluttering. 

He was still in denial. No matter how much his heart tried to reach out to the other. Guilt radiating off of him. 

He started to speak again, tears falling from his tired eyes. "This... isn't possible.. I'm dreaming... this is just... a dream..." he barely stuttered out the words. Finding it harder and harder to intake oxygen.

Sabito knelt down to Giyuu, his face warping to one of concern. "You hit your head pretty hard, Yuu. You need to just take a moment and breathe..." the gentle voice of the fellow follower of Urokudaki murmured. 

Bringing angel soft fingers up to Giyuu's face, Sabito smiled more tenderly and gently brushed his hands over Giyuu's chin. The tired water piller seeming to be hesitant to trust such a contact from the other. 

"I'm glad I found you again... it's been so long...!"

Subconsciously, Giyuu leans his head into Sabito's comforting hands. His eyes closing as more stray tears made their way down his face. They poured from his tear ducts like a broken dam. Much like Giyuu was the epitome of. 

The water pillar was always being held together by a loose thread. A glorious little bow on a broken, ailing package. The second it was unrapped, the only thing left was the emotional mess inside. 

Tomioka took in a deep, strained breath as he brought his hands up to Sabito's hands, and kissed the back of one of them- caressing them almost with some sort of unknown desperation. 

'This all... it can't be real... you died Sabito.. but... I... I want to keep feeling the warmth of your hands. Your smile... is making me feel complete. I don't feel empty anymore...' 

Sabito almost looks empty for a second, before the same smile crossed his face as before. He leans forward, rubing his forehead against Giyuu's with a small smile playing at his lips. 

"You're so strong now, Yuu. You've done such an amazing job. I'm glad you progressed so much..." 

Giyuu's tears just started to fall faster, despite his eyes falling closed. He leans into the touch with a small sigh- trying free himself of the strained tugging feeling he had in his heart. 

Sabito's face fell to one of deep sincerity as he leans further in, whispering into Giyuu's ear as he leans his noggin into Giyuu again. "The other Hashira don't treat you with near as much respect as you deserve..."

Giyuu continued to listen to the sweet words of his fallen friend. Nearly tempted by them, their comfort to him was intoxicating... he wanted to believe them so badly. However, he couldn't believe them. He wasn't worthy of anything... he learned that much with how he had lead his life. 

Sabito smiled at him again, a little enthusiasm following his words as he clenched his hands around Giyuu's hands. 

"You've done enough... they can find someone else to be the water pillar. Come with me and travel by my side. We can get out of here... go see the world."

Giyuu was tempted... he wanted it so bad. The words were so tempting and the potential they could have... it was enamouring. He desperately wanted to say yes.

To say yes and free the Hashira from his presence- so they can have someone around that they can stand. To be with his best friend again... to go and do something other than chase demons, fail and shed blood. 

But... he couldn't. 

Giyuu's face seemed to grow distant again, as a flash of rememberance passed through his cloudy eyes.

HIS Sabito... would... never do such a thing.

Giyuu hesitantly looks down, before looking back up into Sabito's eyes. He wrapped his trembling, poorly functioning fingers around Sabito's own fingers, and felt his eyes welling up more. 

"You would really do that.... for me...?"

Sabito nearly seemed too eager to reply back, his face seeming to become more gleeful. Perhaps unnervingly so... 

"Of course..! We don't need to stay here... we can be happy ... together."

Giyuu closed his eyes, feeling some of his right mind coming back to him. He was a little less dizzy- now feeling a subtle anger building up in his aching chest. He let out a shaking breath, and his expression fell. 

'It really was... too good... to be true...' 

Taking in a deep, shaky breath- Giyuu opened his eyes- their normal - endless blue hue returning to them as he readied himself to speak. 

"Sabito was my best friend. The most dedicated man I ever could have had the honor of calling my friend..." 

The Sabito in front of him seemed to be getting the hint. His face fell to a pout, before reaching a grim, accepting expression. He closed his eyes, and the aura of wamth and love that came from him was replaced with a feeling of coldness. 

This, however, did not deter Giyuu. 

The black haired man continued, his face falling from it's more delicate expression to a firm glare. 

"You have some nerve... using my friends face, and voice. He would never, ever even dream of such things..."

((To Be Continued))

[icharchivist]

I can definitely relate to being a perfectionist but also lazy <3 It's the artists' curse, clearly

I've been reading through some of the Eternals FEs, because I probably should have been doing that sooner but in my defense, I didn't expect I'd end up here

Anre's is really interesting actually, there's a lot more to him than you'd expect. In case you didn't know or forgot, his parents were merchants of great renown, with his father even being a teacher to Siero herself. But when Anre was 10, robbers broke into the mansion. They were stopped by the guards, but Anre's parents were caught in the crossfire and died, which set him on his path

There are more orphans in the Eternals than in your average Disney movie

Also, he takes the rules he set very seriously. When you beat him in a fight he immediately tells you to take his place, because as an Eternal, the second you lose a fight, you're out. Fortunately you can convince him to join you instead, but if you select the option to agree to take his job he'll say "Good answer. Something tells me you'll take a shine to Seofon." And like. Come on, you didn't have to come for me like this

I'm doing homework! Don't just go for the jugular like this, aren't you supposed to be the resident pacifist???

Not in the weenie "I abhor all violence, can't we just all get along and not ever fight" way either, but the far more respectable and principled "I abhor violence but I will use it if necessary to prevent more violence", considering he was fully prepared to kill a guy

Anyway, Anre is really cool but he also called me out directly and I'm not sure how I'm feeling about that

oh my god

that's very interesting for Anre at least, it does give more textures tohis character let's say?

but god he really went to murder you with that Seofon's mention please help. but also i feel like it means he feels like Seofon just grows on you awwww. He's right though.

He did try to kill you though so it tracks.

And he is sooo smart. You can never escape that i'm afraid.

Good luck on the homeworks ;D

[heatwavesintheuk]

1)But you acknowledge that Bhrevvik should not be free.

2)Do all prisons do this or is this a problem that is common to countries that share particular values or is it a unique problem to one country?

3a)I didn't ask you to have a perfect solution for every single scenario. I asked you to have a solution for one scenario.

3b) I already answered this; How do you prevent him being free with access to weapons or other people without a prison? I mean, we could kill him, I suppose. Or there's exile but realistically, if we do that now....it's functionally going to be a slow death sentence if we've abolished prisons. I think as much as prison sucks, this would be even worse! Kill him is my option if we're taking prisons off of the table. But I don't have a problem with Brevvik being imprisoned in the first place. As for it being your personal job, no, of course it isn't. That's why you recommend resources (and yes, I have read the classic sources; they are not convincing that we can abolish prisons)

4)So we agree that Brevvik is dangerous and is, in fact, too dangerous to be free around people and access to weapons. Death is my answer here. I don't like it - but I don't see what other options there are.

Our options are: Limit his freedom in some way ,Decide that prisons are bad enough that we don't care how many Brevviks there are wandering around free (which we agree is not acceptable and that would need to be made explicit if this was your position, anyway), kill him quickly (death), kill him slowly (Exile).

The answer has to be death. It's the year 30XX, prisons are abolished. Brevvik II happens despite all the other prevention policies in place. We can't imprison him (prisons are abolished), too dangerous to leave wandering around (we agree) so we're gonna have to kill him. Brevvik II is actually even worse than Brevvik I.

5a)Yes, it's bad but it's not an argument for less police, never mind zero police! "We don't imprison a lot now" is, if anything, an argument to imprison people , not to stop trying. There are tons of other sound reasons to have a dramatic reduction but this is a bad argument for the position.

5bi)No, it isn't. This is again, an argument for the position that we are systematically under-imprisoning people. There are other sound reasons to drastically reduce but again, this is so bad an argument for abolition that it is actually an argument for the opposite position.

5bii)Oh, good question! People with pitchfork and torches who will not even pretend to have the tiny weeny pretence of a sliver of the pretence of the accountability that police have now.

"All I said is "slavery bad" and you keep trying to come up with "

Don't be absurd. We can all scroll up; what you said was that no-one should be in Prison.

"gotchas why you think theres exceptions, that's not a good look for you."

But we agree that Brevvik cannot be free. So it's not so much that I alone think that as I am pointing out that there are exceptions.

As for it being a good look for me, I don't care.

" I'm not going to respond anymore after this."

If you weren't going to answer the question then you should have said so in the first place.

" You're an asshole and a racist for saying 2/3 of slavery is justified. "

Sorry, could you quote-and-link to where I said that 2/3 of slavery was justified please? It should be easy!

Oh, and if and only if it is the case that you subscribe to the prejudice+power theory then you need to have found out what colour I am before you can call me racist.

We can actually all scroll up and see that I did not, in fact, say that 2/3rd of slavery was justified. I said it was at least a third who didn't need to be in prison.

Again, we can all scroll up. So we both know that I didn't actually say the things you said I said. We have a word for ;s'saying things you know to be untrue': Lying.

As for pretending to be stupid, no, I'm assuming that you are using words correctly. This is a common assumption for neurodivergent people to make.

I don't really take much stock in what an ableist liar thinks of my reputation. This counter was for the benefit of followers.

[yoonlattesworld]

Surprise

Yoongi's Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Cold boyfriend yoongi x sweet reader

Summary:your cold boyfriend forgot your birthday. Or so you thought

Genre:shit ton of fluff and a teeny weeny angst

No warning just a few cursing here and there. You know my stories can't be completed without curse words

Author's pov

You sighed softly enjoying the warmth if your bed as the natural sunlight peeked through the curtains which were slightly opened. Turning on the other side of the bed where your boyfriend was supposed to be,your small smile soon turned into a frown when you were met with nothing but cold sheets. Pouting a little you took his pillow and hugged it tightly imagining that he was here with you. This has been going since days. Of course you understand that being a popular idol is hard. You really do. But these days you feel like he is becoming distant and you don't know if you are just overreacting but he seems to be avoiding you . For example he never rejects your hugs and kisses but yesterday when you tried to hug him he just patted your back a few times and then walked away saying he is busy. And you don't remember the last time you both spent time together. He always seems like he is in his own deep thoughts. So you couldn't help but think of every worst outcome behind his cold behavior. Did he got tried of you? Were you being too clingy? Did he fell out of love? All these thoughts continued to roll in your head making your head ache. The continues bussing of your phone snapped you out of your thoughts and you stretched your hand out towards the side table to grab it. Finally holding it after flapping your arm around instead of sitting up you winced at the brighten and Immediately lowered it. A soft smile tugged your lips as you read all the messages sent by yoongi's best friends who have now become your best friends too and a few coworkers who actually remembered your birthday. You laughed reading jimin's message tugging the blanket closer to your face 'Happy birthday noona! You know my offer is still open i can treat you way better than him so you are always welcome! P.S we can also run away on your wedding day if you plan on marrying him . Happy birthday again!' He was thinking about a long way you aren't even sure if yoongi wants to still date you or not. You scrolled past the messages trying to find his but your lifted spirits lowered again when you didn't saw any missed calls or message from him.

Sighing you put your phone away and forced yourself to get up. It's not a big deal maybe he was busy or something. But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself your heart still cracked a little when you realized he forgot your birthday. Your Birthdays were never really important to you. Growing up without any friends and family you were used to spending your birthdays alone. You would just buy a small cake and sing a happy birthday to yourself (just to eat the cake) but that was before you met yoongi. Yoongi was your first boyfriend and it wasn't like you would just randomly tell him your birthdate at the beginning of your relationship. So when it has been almost 8 months of dating, it slipped out of your mouth that your birthday is in two days not noticing how his eyes widened at that. You didn't even realized too busy eating the ice cream yoongi brought for you. Than two days later when you came home from work you were surprised to find yoongi's shoes in your doorway and you were even surprised as a soft gasp escaped your lips when you saw your whole living room filled with purple and white balloons with a smiling yoongi standing in between of them ''w-what '' "surprise baby. Happy birthday!" And you couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and you ran over to him. Your arms wrapping around his torso tightly as you buried your face in chest with a watery and shaky whisper "thank you...thank you so much yoongi " while yoongi smiled softly and wrapped his arms around your crying form holding you tightly "happy birthday princess " he whispered and placed a kiss on your head chuckling when you looked up at him tears and your nose flowing. Wiping your tears and nose with his handkerchief he said "let's cut the cake" you had told him that it was your happiest day in your whole life and since then, you couldn't help but expect a little surprise every year. It doesn't matter if it is a studio date or a fancy restaurant date. The only thing that mattered is that you were spending it with him.

And today, when you turned 26, you felt a little disappointed that you didn't even saw him before he went to work. Sighing again you took a shower and made your scrambled eggs with a toast and coffee you replied to all the messages where one of it belonged to your boss too. That cranky old man remembers your birthday too. You tried not to think about it too much and went with your day as usual. Going to work saying 'thank you's' on repeat to all the coworkers who texted you this morning and smiling brightly when the old man said you can go home early today. But that smile didn't quite reached your eyes knowing you were going to be alone . Still grateful to get some well needed rest you thanked him and worked until it was time to go home. A little hope to see him home you excitedly opened the door but your hope was crushed again when you were greeted with nothing but darkness. Feeling your heart clenching you took deep breaths telling yourself it's not something to cry over. You aren't a little girl anymore so this shouldn't affect you this much. But with yoongi you became the little girl who lost her childhood to an aunt who never cared about you. Who lost her childhood a little too early to become a mature adult and take care of your own needs. You switched on the light and went towards the bedroom to take a long hot shower then changed into one yoongi's hoodie and your favorite pair of loose pajama pants . You hugged yourself feeling the warmth and his comforting scent filling your nose. Walking down you grabbed a cup noodles and boiled some water. Sitting on the couch you ate your noodles silently with Your gaze unknowingly going to your phone and front door again and again. When the last two bites were left your phone started ringing and you jumped in surprise quickly grabbing the phone. Your heart beat increased when you looked at your phone. 'Yoongs💕' taking deep breaths to calm your pounding heart you hovered your thumb over the green icon before finally pressing the button surprising yourself. A squeak escaped your lips before you quickly pressed your phone to your ear saying "h-hello?" The deep and raspy voice that you wanted to hear so badly said "come down." "R-right now? Okay then i-i will get changed quickly-" "you don't need to change it's okay just wear a coat it's cold" your heart soared at how he cares for you silently "o-okay I'm coming " he hummed in response and the moment you cut the call you were on your feet immediately and ran towards the door because you were already wearing his hoodie not caring about the noodles. You wished the elevator would go faster and when the door opened, you ran out until he came in your view. You saw him standing out of the building gate while leaning against his car. He looked up hearing footsteps and looked at you when you stepped in front of him while panting slightly. You didn't want to seem too desperate but not seeing him since a day you couldn't help it. And a small part of you wished for him to be this desperate to see you too. But you missed the way his hand twitched when he saw you looking up at him with your doe eyes. He wanted to hold you but he pressed the urge and opened the door for you to sit. You said a small 'thank you' to which he nodded and went to his seat after closing your door.

He started driving not even looking at you. You didn't know where he was taking you and you couldn't stop the nervous fiddle of your fingers as they played with the strings of his hoodie. The whole ride was silent other than yoongi's occasional tapping on the steering wheel while you busied yourself to look put of the window. After a while you noticed the area changing from the tall buildings to tall trees and more greenery. You feel like you know this place but the memory is faded. And finally you decided to break the ice "w-where are we going?" By a small whisper and he replied "you will see. We are almost there" nonchalantly but you didn't knew the nervousness and a storm of emotions building inside him. After what felt like hours he stopped the car outside a park. You couldn't recognize the place as it was too dark here but your heart beat increased when he opened the door and you stepped out. There was a large tree just besides the old gate and you gasped when you recognized the place. This park..so many memories are related to this park. This is the same park yoongi's father took him to. For the first and last time. He remembers how happy he was that day. His father took him somewhere for the first time. But that happiness didn't lasted for long because at the same day when they were going home, his father died in a car accident while saving him. Then every year, at the day his father died he would come to this park alone and spend hours just sitting there. He never shared this place to anyone. But after meeting you,you were the first person he took there with him. He took you there after you started dating on your 6th month anniversary where he found himself trusting you. He told you everything. You were the first person who he cried in front of.

Yoongi took your hand in his while crossing the road. He held it tightly as if he was scared you would run off. You looked at him when he squeezed your hand and you squeezed it back. He took you to the centre of the park where you both shared a kiss under the cheery blossom . But now there were just dried leaves. You both haven't come here since almost 4 years. Yoongi suddenly stopped making you bump on his back with a "oof" he turned around and grabbed your waist to stable you when you stumbled back and pulled you towards him. Dark eyes which held so may emotions looked at you yet he didn't said anything "yoongi are you okay?" You whispered when he leaned his head against yours. He nodded slightly and stepped back taking a deep breath. "Can you close your eyes? I feel like i would chicken out if you kept looking at me" you nodded confusedly and closed your eyes hearing some shuffling. "Open your eyes y/n" a gasp slipped past your lips when your eyes took in the sight in front of you. Yoongi was on his knee with a little red box in his hands looking at you with so much love yet nervousness in his eyes . He gulped as you pressed your hands against your mouth . He cleared his throat and begin "you know I'm not good with my words babygirl and this is really new to me. I didn't believed in love and marriage but after meeting you,after seeing you everyday cooking while wearing my shirt somewhere in my heart i wanted to see this everyday. You always wanted a simple story. A simple guy and a sweet marriage life and i know I'm far from being simple but you still believed in me. You keep up with my cold ass even though i don't express shit properly." He chuckled in between causing you to giggle too" i know that i don't deserve you but damn I'm selfish when it comes to you. I just know that I'm in love with you. I love you so fucking much that i can't imagine my life without you. All days these you probably noticed that i was distancing myself from you. But that was because i was feeling so damn nervous while planning all this. I was feeling insecure? Maybe i was scared that you wouldn't want to marry me which resulted in me forcing myself to drown in work. And I'm still really scared " you know he wasn't lying because you could see his hands shaking "I'm so fucking sorry for treating you like that but...if you are still willing to deal with me for the rest of our lives...will you marry me?" At this rate there tears flowing down your cheeks and you nodded eagerly almost shouting while sobbing "yes,yes,yes!" And then you threw yourself on him causing him to stumble as he caught you. Sitting on the floor he held you in his lap tightly as if you would disappear. He buried his face in your neck and you could feel his own tears wetting your skin. Pulling back he took your hand and gently glided the ring on your finger and kissed your hand "i love you so fucking much babygirl " he whispered and you whispered back "i love you too" before he pressed his lips on your in a deep kiss "SHE SAID YES!" a shout was heard in the background and you realized it was taehyung's voice and multiple cheers were heard "NOO NOONA YOU ARE MINE" you giggled in between the kiss when "SHUT UP DON'T RUIN THE MOMENT "it was jin's voice "you are mine" yoongi growled in between the kiss and you mumbled "yours" pulling back he rested his head against yours for a moment before saying "happy birthday babygirl " you giggled and said "i thought you forgot " "never" he stood up and helped you up too as all the boys came running towards you both "congratulations noona and hyung !" Said jungkook "yeah! Congratulations guys!" Hobi said smiling brightly while namjoon held a flapping jimin back who was dramatically saying "you were mine before him" so this is what jimin meant by running away on your wedding day. They all knew this already.

After reaching home,he said we should shower together which made you blush profusely and you nodded shyly because you have never showered together before. you both showered together even though you had already showered. He held your waist under the shower head and pressed his lips on yours pressing you against him. Caressing your bare skin he sucked your bottom lip gently biting it afterwards causing you to whimper. Soothing the slight sting with his tongue he pulled back and pecked your lips once last time before turning the shower off and grabbing the towel to dry you up .Wrapping a towel around his waist he helped you wearing his another hoodie and some leggings and wore his too then carried you to bed. Laying you down gently he laid besides you and took your hand kissing your ring gently "i love you yoon" you said and pecked his lips "i love you too baby" he held you until you fell asleep and then kissed your head mumbling "i can't wait to spend my whole life with you" and fell asleep as well.

~fin~

Let me know if you want to be in my permanent taglist!

[racketballz]

Okay, so if the girls did a reality tv show just about there life’s and what they’re doing ( like the kardashains ) do you think they’ll except doing it and would it show another side of the girls the town hasn’t seen? How do you think it’ll play out..?

Oh it’d definitely be a gag situation I think itd be so funny omg honestly what a good drawing prompt but i think it’d probably be like blossom saying it’s a good idea for their public image (idk maybe there was a ppg scandal that blossom feels nervous about) to do a show bubbles would be really into it buttercup would hate it like shoves cameras out of her face and stuff. I think that filming it blossom would do something like show her school and everyday life in the most boring blossom way possible and then they producers use it and edit it to be something it’s not and shes appalled “I never said that!!!!” When it seems blossom is like making fun of teachers and students or like bubbles or something

Bubbles: how could you! 🥺

blossom: I never said that you were there behind the camera remember!

Bubbles: oh yeah 😗!

The show reads as blossom is actually cattier than she seems! “Everything nice! What a joke! Our red headed leader caught red handed being a total bitch!” How unexpected blossom totally freaks out and called the people running the show and the producers are like calm down calm down! The ratings for the show are amazing dont you worry! This is just standard television!

bubbles I think would have so much fun with it I think showing her closet off and closet off and actually I think it would be interesting if she wasn’t dating anyone? OR OR if she was dating boomer they completely just cut him out of the show even tho he’s like a huge part of what she was showing off 😭 sorry boomer PFT Sorry dating is not good for television so they tell them to break up LMAO

But I think what theyd do to her is put in a bunch of bleeps like she was cursing like ALOT LIKE EVERY SENTENCe theres a word censored and bubbles like I-I-??????? Never said that I curse sometimes…. B-but not this much ??? What 😭😭😭!! “SUGAR more like SAILOR! Bubbles the sweetest of the trio swears so much it puts them to shame! Who knew such a cute girl would curse up a storm like this!”

Buttercup is thoroughly enjoying this probably buttercup is a watcher of trash television so this is fun for her. Fortunately for her tho buttercup has the worst public image of the 3 the least curated and those 2 problems blossom and bubbles ran into WOULDNT be suprise for the public to see. (She also didn’t give them nearly enough footage to work with) so maybe they stalk her or something? and she either get caught doing something that’s completely true and out of character or something else I was thinking was maybe her being portrayed as a complete weenie who whines and cries a lot and she’s very sensitive!! Showing pictures of her crying when in reality she was wiping her eyes or something with a head line like buttercup more like BABYCUP WHAT A BABY!! The head strong of the three is gonna give herself a headache from all that crying she does! Time to put her to bed ( I don’t know I’m sorry I only know early 2000s reality tv and Love island commentary) I honestly think this doesn’t hit hard enough compared to her sisters tho

SOOOO (not to bring rrb into this I was really trying to avoid them) on their stalking escapade they find buttercup and butch are caught together often!

Buttercup watching the show: 👁👄👁 🍿🤌 (stops eating)

is buttercup actually secretly meeting up with butch jojo! Huhhh????? I thought they were enemies!? is something going on between them behind closed doors.

The rrb tuning in from their couch staring at butch 👁👄👁🍿 …..

boomer is upset because THEY SAID I HAD TO KEEP MY RELATIONSHIP SECRET WHYS HE ALLOWED TO BE IN ONE!!!

Buttercup and butch are just friends but in secret because theyve recently bonded over some hobbies they have but have to convince everyone they’re in fact not dating but no one believes them

Now you got preteens shouting at them they’re their favorite ship on the side of the road lmao

[sparxymcfly]

There's already so little content for the telltale game and most of it's for the 1931 parts. (Not that I'm complaining but) could you share some blanket thoughts on the 1968B timeline?

Why HELLO tumblr! I was and am ill <3 But I'm back baby~

Now! I'm.. actually kind of unsure which timeline you're specifically asking about here. Trying to use Google or the wiki[s] to help pointed me towards a comic timeline as being 1986B, but as both I have not read that far yet and you're specifically asking about the game, I think I can safely assume that's not what you're asking. So following the game chronologically, 1986B is probably the next terrible alternate after 1985A- which logically means the one where Biff has brothers? Although logically, I'm not sure why anyone would ask after that one since it happens so briefly, so maybe this is about Citizen Brown? Those seem, for two separate reasons, the Most Logical, so I'll give a few thoughts about each one [additionally because again, Biff Brothers timeline is quite brief ! And I can balance this out with as many thoughts as I can figure for a short one, and a small taster of sorts for the timeline that gets far more focus]

Biff Brothers Timeline!

oh my god tumblr changed things hate that ANYWAY! I'm sure there's a more proper title for this, likely 1986B is probably the closest to correct or something like that, but I don't even like 1985A that's the Hell Valley timeline- I prefer names <3 anyway!

- first off I haven't been able to stop thinking about what exactly led to Biff having two brothers in the first place. Like yeah Kid was free and all that, but it was hard enough for me to believe Kid could procreate once and now you're trying to convince me he did it at least three times? Say it ain't so. But really, I do wonder all the time who on earth the mothers are in the Tannen family, who is staying with these men. I mean, if Edna is literally any indication, probably no one we ought to be associating with in the first place.

- MARTY LITERALLY BEING TOLD TO SKIP TOWN TO SAVE HIS DAD'S BONES? I mean I understand this entire Hill Valley is kind of just. A hellscape, though a different sort than Hell Valley, but just completely booting him from town with no safety net- no Doc, no Jennifer, Marty is absolutely in no state to be doing anything in this timeline. Granted, while we know this is one of the timelines where Marty accidentally deleted Jennifer, but considering whether or not, in this very small window into this world, the trilogy happened. We know it didn't in Citizen Brown, and usually I personally use George himself as a ruler to check that- you can just tell if it's based more on weenie George or punch George- but ah. Well! You see.

- I think So Much about exactly how frazzled Marty was when his parents just. Would not let him in the house. And I mean, they had reason, considering how absolutely insane Biff, Cliff, and Riff are. Which, I don't believe for a second that they would actually have stayed away for very long- while yes, they saw Marty and that's why they approached, they were still nearby enough to see him.

- SPECIFICALLY THOUGH thinking about Marty in this timeline. From my memory [which when I replay the game it'll all be fresher and I'm sure I'll yammer <3] Dave and Linda aren't around anymore, which of course they're not. But Marty sticking around- not only because he's the youngest and, y'know, kids live with their parents, but also because this is Marty and he probably tries to keep his parents safe from the Tannen brothers as much as he can- just has so much to it I think. And I especially wonder, much like Hell Valley gets me ["Oh he must've got you good this time" and "always a hothead" as some highlights that live in my head], exactly how much and to what degree Marty was resisting. Clearly enough that Biff thought that, yet again much like in Hell Valley, removing Marty from the picture was something he needed to get done for how much trouble he was causing [and presumably yet again some latent trying to not completely mess up his potential relationship with Lorraine by just flat-out killing her kid, or even possibly ever even attacking him?]. And Marty agreeing to leave. There's no way any Marty of any timeline would ever actually believe Biff would keep his word. Either Marty had no actual choice in the matter, he was testing it and planning to come back, perhaps it was both George and Lorraine begging him to take the out and get out of there before Biff decided breaking Marty's bones was something he wanted to consider.

- Finding out a fun new trivia fact about Marty as he proves himself was an interesting choice; not only learning more about Marty but further confirmation that no matter what, there are a Lot of timeline constants. This is a timeline intrinsically changed, one that changed long before Marty was even born, but he still has a scar on his knee from trying to grind- the clock tower, I think it was. Which, this timeline Marty still skateboards! Especially like out in the open by himself? When the Tannens are in power? Marty is fearless to a degree dangerous to his own safety and we've known this for a long time <3

- Biff not? Getting Lorraine to marry him? Like with perhaps even more chaotic power in his pocket than Hell Valley, I would've expected it to be just as bad. But George is still alive, perhaps in that way that a cat plays with a mouse until it dies, or just because Biff knows George can't actually do anything to stop him in this timeline so just killing him and covering it up wasn't necessary at all. Did he still plan to try to make Lorraine his? Was he waiting just for fun or because of the resistance? Did Marty have a hand in how long it was taking if that was the plan? Many questions!

- Also Kid still being around. Actually that might be something to do with it, since the way Biff was playing cat and mouse with George and Lorraine is highly reminiscent of the way Kid was playing with Trixie and Artie. He knew Artie was there, to my knowledge? And simply lived in blissful knowledge of just how wrapped around his pinkie he had Trixie- to the point that she could plot behind his back and he just never suspected.

Anyways I think that's it for that one as far as blanket statements go? And as far as my memory can carry me right now. Now as for the only other logical target of this question! . To my knowledge. If I've somehow utterly missed the one you were asking about feel free to poke me again!

Citizen Brown Timeline!

The timeline with a lot more to work with! For that reason I'm probably going to try to keep myself a little restrained and brief, although knowing me it is probably not going to work very well <3 It's fine I'm guaranteed to miss something anyway, these are just Thoughts and Humdrums <3

- OKAY SO FIRST OFF MY LOUDEST EVER THOUGHTS ABOUT CITIZEN BROWN why did Jennifer date Marty. No really. On the one hand, I understand that there are timeline constants, and that a lot of things in every timeline will still happen, it's just the outcome or cause that will change a lot. Which, here, I'm fairly sure both of those things had to change- at minimum we know the ending changed, since, y'know. She dumped him. But it does make me wonder what got her to say yes in the first place, and what it was that was the final straw that broke the camel's back. I suppose the easiest explanation I can think of is that Marty just got 'worse' recently? We do know from a line from George when our Marty is getting his guitar that they "finally convinced him to stop playing", and considering the guitar was still in the garage it probably wasn't that terribly long ago. So perhaps Marty was just 'punk' enough still to pull off Jennifer thinking he was cool until recently?

- MY SECOND LOUDEST THOUGHT which literally just makes me sad, it's that bit I literally just went over about Marty's parents [or at minimum, George, since Lorraine still seems to be chafing under the control of the government quite a bit] breaking him down until he stopped playing guitar. Like YOWCH. How many other things was he convinced out of? How many others was he nagged into? How many of the things we hear he does does he actually enjoy? Dungeons and Dragons, mathlete stuff- I'm not saying he has never displayed the aptitude to enjoy "nerdier" things, because when encouraged by a positive figure in his life [Doc!] Marty is at minimum interested! He thinks it's cool! He thinks it's fun! Granted, he's not amazing at it or anything, but he tries! So it's simply just. Man what state is this Marty in. He's literally never even had Doc in his life- or well, I suppose literally everyone in Citizen Valley has him in their lives, but not in the way he's meant to. Not in the way the best friends across all of time and space ought to be!

- HI another Partner Thought in that vein was bringing up whether Marty is medicated in this timeline which I'm positively obsessed with as a thought. I don't know what side of this fence I fall on considering at minimum Edna no doubt doesn't even have sex ed in her police state [you can't look me in the eyes and tell me she wouldn't say "abstinence is the only way" or nonsense like that], it's very much a coin toss in my opinion whether she would medicate people to get them to function "correctly" or if she would fall on the side of "just work harder!" Pistolwhipping the neurodivergence right out <3 I mean it worked on Emmett, unfortunately, and she had mind control in the works to get everything else working <:] All that and on top of it Marty's ever-present desire to protect his parents, and I mean without Doc around to bolster his confidence and with THIS kind of regime on all sides... Marty getting broken down but using what methods he's left with in this state to keep them safe by just staying in line.... yeesh.

- OKAY BUT IN THE FULL AND UTTERNESS the fact that George says, when Marty asks, that he's only ever been in a crowd seeing Citizen Brown, and how "no one can get an audience" and how everyone talks as though this is Citizen Brown's doings when we all know Edna is pulling the strings and inserting her ideas and the awful portrait of young Emmett and his father looming over him and the flux capacitor being not only in all of his interior decorating and the symbols but the strongest memory that lasted the longest in the journal Marty brought from Lone Pines- Citizen Brown Doc is just immensely tragic and heartbreaking and it hurts so bad to see what he became when he was manipulated for that long. Both Doc and Marty are in such bad shape in this timeline It Hurts. And then the fact that not only did Doc immediately side with Marty and try to help once he knew the truth but also just how bad it was when he ended up talking even to just the past version of his wife again for far too long and fell back into that horrible mindset to the point he betrayed Marty... hhhnngh. Doc went from his father to Edna with some severe overlap [which his dad APPROVED of Edna literally never forget that because of COURSE he did] and just never got out... hh.

- LORRAINE Lorraine is. She's always been kind of in a bad state when it comes to weenie George timelines and the alcoholism is Not Cool of course but it's her coping mechanism- and the entire segment where George keeps trying to get Marty to narc on Lorraine [and also did SUCH a horrible job on it holy shit, he waited FIVE SECONDS and like wow sir you wonder why you have not caught your wife before now] really does speak to the fact that George is like. Twin Pines may have been a little weenie wet blanket but at least that George would- or, I suppose more accurately, could- spend time away from the person keeping him under his thumb at least telling Marty, for instance, "yeah I know this sucks and I should do something else I'm sorry :(". But here, it's all the time. And granted, it really does show that in his own weenie way, George really is trying to keep his family safe, but it comes across as so much less passively a depressing situation and more active, as George drives Lorraine nuts, drives Marty away from his passions... god Citizen Brown timeline is so messed up.

- BUT I SAID IT ONCE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN because yeah it IS worth literal actual gold but George IS protecting his family, and while yeah he's a weenie about it and I am definitely going to bite him nothing is worth more to me in the entire Citizen Brown timeline than the moment when Marty is about to get his mind wiped where George goes "absolutely not, not my son, what do you need!!!" BECAUSE YESSSSS. And it's true, that's literally what he's most afraid of, he doesn't want his family to get the Citizen Plus treatment that he has such a close front row seat to not only the effects of but like. I'm fairly sure even to the goals of, as much as he tries to say otherwise [which, George doesn't get time away from under the thumb of the person keeping him there here, so it really does track].

- LEECH I have been attempting to keep this blog like vaguely up to snuff but fuck Leech :) thank you. Apparently according to one of the behind the scenes things [which I haven't had the patience to watch just yet as character-driven gets me to watch things and lordy as cool as that kinda thing is my brain is not READY] this role was originally meant to go to Needles which I feel would have made everything so much more awfully terrible god bless :) and by god bless I mean that sounds like literal warfare. Both me and my partner were wilding over the fact that Marty wasn't truly ready to jump to violence until he specifically asked if Leech was respecting Jennifer and he essentially went "dur hur hur well about that >:)" which god. Marty really loves her it's so lovely.

- one last partner mention this post because their. "jen for the sake of the space time continuum we HAVE to make out". And also I want to point out personally Marty saying, amidst being in agony that Jennifer thinks he is a square and he misses his wife girlfriend so much, that he's kind of into the punk look. Sublime. We may not get much of our usual Jennifer in the game, but what we do get is positively fantastic. I think going into Jennifer a little more sometime would be fun <3 but I've been talking quite awhile

I THINK I ought to stop there probably. There's so much to be said about Citizen Brown timeline it's SO interesting. And like I said in the earlier section because I think I forgot to repeat it, the trilogy didn't happen in that timeline. The time machine was never invented. Marty and Doc never met. It's truly one of the worst and most intense timelines just in a far more insidious kind of way. ANYWAYS I hope that satisfied even a bit of your desire to see more! I've seen that the group talking about the game is quite small myself too, and while I haven't spent too much time in the 1931 headspace [I'm sure I will :)] I hope I've successfully filled a gap for you <3

[kinda-iconic]

An Introduction to Remember

Author's Note: This is part two of 'Meeting the Parents', one of the many fictions in my 'The Next Chapter' series.

Summary: Adrian meets Amy's parents for the first time.

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Amy)

Tagging (Due to previous interest): @bloodboundismylife @shelley-parah @nala-raines @lauren-raines-x @adrianadmirer @allthingsjabriela @purvishraick @flowerpowell @ankle-beez @tays-role-plays @caroldxnvxrs @crystalwillow @a-raines

Amy removes herself from the car with a renewed exuberance, smiling brightly as she makes eye contact with her mother; her mother chuckles excitedly, like a child who has just witnessed their very first snowfall.

‘I am so happy to see you, sweetheart,’ she returns her daughter’s beaming smile, her gaze now wandering down to Amy’s abdomen, ‘it…it doesn’t seem too long ago that I was expecting you and now…now you’re experiencing motherhood yourself.’

‘It sure has its ups and downs,’ Amy’s voice is soft and tender, a hint of giddiness to her tone, ‘but I am looking forward to being a mom.’

‘I’m ever so glad to hear that,’ her mother’s smile grows momentarily, though it softens once she catches sight of Adrian through the windshield of their car, ‘is he alright?’

‘He’s very nervous,’ she admits, ‘he wanted to come and meet you both months ago, but with work and…and the pregnancy, we-we just haven’t had the opportunity to.’

‘You’re here now; that’s what matters.’

‘I’m afraid he may need a little bit more convincing than that.’

Her mother responds with a nod of understanding, her hand reaching to brush a coating of dirt from Amy’s arm.

‘Would you like me to talk to him? Do you think that would make a difference?’

‘I’m not too sure…’ she lowers her gaze to the ground, her brows furrowed in thought, ‘it might make him feel more at ease for when he meets Dad.’

‘That sounds like a plan.’

Without another word, her mother begins to approach the driver’s side of the car, Amy following close behind. As he watches the pair draw closer, he instinctively meets his girlfriend’s gaze, looking for reassurance that their sudden presence is a positive one. She nods with a soft smile, a sharp breath escaping his lips as a wave of relief washes over him. Adrian opens the door slowly, pausing his exit for a moment before making a quick escape from the vehicle; he walks towards them, coming to a stop just a few feet away.

‘I…umm…’

He fumbles slightly with his hands, struggling to remove his right hand from his pocket.

‘Oh…I…sorry…’

Her mother chuckles softly, unable to contain the happiness she feels in that moment.

‘There’s no need to apologise, Adrian,’ she smiles warmly, shaking her head, ‘I actually find it quite endearing.’

‘You…you do?’

‘Of course! It means that you care,’ she outstretches her own hand, patiently waiting for the action to be reciprocated, ‘please, call me Helena.’

He manages to free his fingers from the fabric of his clothing, gently taking her hand in his own as he starts to introduce himself.

‘I-I’m Adrian,’ he smiles softly, moving to stand beside Amy, ‘it is a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Helena gestures over her shoulder to the house, her gaze drifting between the pair, ‘I just made some hot chocolate if either of you would like one.’

‘Is it coated in whipped cream, teeny weeny marshmallows and cocoa sprinkles?’

‘When isn’t it?’

Amy beams, her happiness evident in her expression.

‘Did you know we were nearby?’

‘I had an inkling...that and Amy messaged me half an hour ago to say that you had just stopped at the sweet shop in town, so I figured you’d be in there for a while.’

Amy holds up a paper bag.

‘I got you both some fudge!’

‘Your dad’s favourite,’ she retrieves the bag from Amy’s palms, voicing her gratitude before turning on her heels and leading Amy and Adrian into the house. Once they’re inside, Helena closes the door behind them, making sure that the bolt is on as she steps away.

As she walks further into the corridor, she notices the absence of belongings on their person.

‘Where are your bags? Your overnight things.’

‘I wanted to introduce myself properly before cluttering your house with my stuff.’

‘Cluttering? Are you planning on staying for longer than a couple of nights?’ She jests.

‘I’d never want to overstay my welcome,’ Adrian replies bashfully, ‘welcoming me into your home is enough already.’

‘Well you will always be welcome here,’ her mother smiles warmly, delicately nudging Amy’s arm with her elbow, ‘I like this one. He’s very kind.’

‘Don’t forget humble,’ Amy looks up at him, taking his hand in her own, his fingers subconsciously interlacing with hers as they make contact, ‘this man could do anything and everything for somebody and he'd be the one to say thank you.’

He goes to respond…but is swiftly interrupted by the sound of a gruff voice calling out from down the hall.

‘Is that Amy?’

‘Dad?’ Amy starts towards the living room, hanging up her jacket as she passes the coatrack. Adrian follows, keeping a distance as he hears the joyful exclaims of reunion just a few metres away. As he reaches the doorway, he stops short, making sure he is not visible to those inside. Noticing his hesitation, Helena approaches him, her voice laced with understanding and comfort as she addresses him.

‘Her father is a lovely man,’ she pauses, rethinking her wording, ‘I know that may sound biased as he is my husband, but there really isn’t a mean bone in his body.’

‘That may be true…and I trust your word, but…’

He trails off, shaking his head.

‘He’ll understand your reasoning; for not visiting sooner.’

‘But the circumstance?’ He asks, a hint of shame to his tone, ‘I…I have yet to ask Amy to marry me, and…and we’re already expecting a child…’

‘That doesn’t mean that you have to wed if you’re both not ready.’

‘I…I know…’

Helena’s smile softens, ‘I will admit that it…it came as a shock. To find out that our daughter was having a baby so soon after moving to New York…and for the father to be someone that she had only known for a few months at the time…’

‘I-I’m sorry.’

Her brows crease in confusion, her head tilted in curiosity.

‘Why are you apologising?’ She walks around to his front, her back just shy of the doorway, ‘I have only known you for a few minutes, but I can already tell that you care for Amy.’

‘You can?’

She nods rather eagerly, her words oozing with confidence.

‘You were very apprehensive to meet us; worried about making the right impression,’ she pauses, adjusting her sleeves, ‘Amy told me that you were nervous.’

‘I was,’ he confesses quietly, as if not wanting to draw further attention to himself, ‘it…it’s been a while since I was introduced to anyone; for personal reasons, that is.’

‘Is this your first relationship?'

He shakes his head, ‘there was another…but I lost her.’

‘Was your separation mutual?’

‘No, I…we didn’t break up.’

‘Then what-’ her eyes widen as the realization begins to dawn, ‘oh Adrian, I-I’m so sorry…’

He smiles sadly, ‘it was a long time ago.’

‘That doesn’t make it less upsetting,’ she frowns, resting a gentle hand on his arm, ‘I am so sorry for prying; it was very insensitive of me.’

‘There is no need to apologise,’ he dismisses her regret with a faint smile, ‘you weren’t to know, and it is only natural to be curious; it’s in our nature.’

She bows her head slightly, nodding in agreement.

‘I must be where Amy gets it from.’

He chuckles softly, any upset from their previous conversation fading at the motherly tone of her jest.

‘My introduction to love may not have had the happiest beginning, but I am grateful that meeting your daughter gave me a second chance.’

‘I cannot express how glad I am to hear you say that.’

‘Say what?’

Adrian freezes, his chest tightening as he sets sights on another figure standing idly behind Helena; the man clears his throat, folding his arms across his chest.

‘Adrian, I presume?’

‘That-that is me,’ he pauses, gulping as his mouth becomes dry, ‘and you must be-’

‘Amy’s father,’ he holds out his hand, ‘it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Raines.’

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Farmer Ted

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Regardless of where the two of you have your first conversation, Ted probably knew of and had a crush on you before you were even aware of his existence.

- He’d probably seen you around school and thought that you were really pretty but just didn’t have the nerve to introduce himself while you were with your friends/around people. But now was his perfect chance. 

- You’d been sitting outside of the school, waiting for somebody, when he’d slinked up to you all dorkily suave. Considering you were somewhat distracted by a book, you probably didn’t realize someone was approaching you until they’d; or rather he’d, sat beside you. 

- Somewhat surprised and curious, you looked up and over at him, meeting his eyes as he gave you a smile. He greeted you, making small talk as you sat together before asking if you “wanted to go out Saturday night”. 

- You found him sort of endearing and cute in a wimpy sort of way so; much to his genuine surprise, you actually said yes. 

- For your first date, the two of you went to the movies. He kept sneaking glances at you throughout the night and held his hand open on the armrest like halfway through the movie, waiting to see if you’d take it; which you probably did. 

- He probably rushes to go tell Bryce and Cliff about everything that happened after the two of you say goodbye. 

- You have your first kiss about a week after your first date. You were sitting together in his bedroom and he’d mentioned how “it may come as a surprise …but you’re the first girl he’s ever gone out with.” before telling you how he really likes you and is wondering if you’ll be his girlfriend. 

- Obviously, you agree and after an almost instantaneous “really?!”, he all but smashes his lips to yours. When the two of you pull away, he shyly apologizes but you just laugh and tell him it’s fine. 

- And there you have it, the geek finally gets the girl. 

- Lots of pda. He wants to show off and flaunt your relationship; particularly because he knows that no one would automatically assume that the two of you are dating whenever you’re together. 

- His arm around your shoulder. It makes him feel like a stud. 

- Handholding. 

- Hugs from behind. He does occasionally give you an actual squeeze but, more often than not, he just wraps his arms loosely around you while the two of you stand together. 

- He loves kisses on the cheek. He always tries his best to play it cool but his heart skips a beat whenever you give him one. 

- Clumsy kisses. You’re probably going to be his first kiss so expect him to be a little bad at it for a while; and possibly scrape you with his braces. 

- Soft kisses. 

- Sitting in his lap. He likes wrapping his arms around you and  looking up at your face or whatever you’re doing in front of him whenever you do. 

- He loves cuddling and enjoys doing it in any way that you can. Spooning? Great! You laying your head on his chest? Even better! Him laying his head on you? Wowza!

- You’ll probably catch him staring at you a lot. He’s just amazed that such a wonderful girl like you is giving him the time of day. 

- He calls you pet names more than your actual name, particularly in front of people because; once again, he likes showing off that you’re a couple. He must have at least a dozen different terms of endearment that he calls you interchangeably. 

- Lame pick up lines. He still tries to flirt with you; even though he’s arguably bad at it. 

- He likes making you laugh at his absurdity, especially if you’re noticeably upset; either with him or at something else. 

- Singing along and lip syncing to the radio together. 

- Dancing with each other. 

- Giving all of his geeky interests a try. 

- Letting him explain floppy disks and computers and all that to you. He’s actually sort of brilliant if we’re being honest here. 

- Pizza dates. 

- Movie dates. I can’t tell you why but I feel like Ted would enjoy watching old movies, movies with like Frank Sinatra in them and all the other golden age of Hollywood stars. 

- Taking walks around the neighborhood together; maybe walking a dog together if you’re interested in that. 

- Going to the park. You usually sit on the swings together and talk whenever you do. 

- Arcade dates.

- County fairs, carnivals, and amusement parks. He likes taking you to those types of things, he thinks they’re really fun.

- Having “his dudes” interrupt and tag along with you guys a lot. He’s quick to tell them to scram but you usually feel kinda bad and just tell them they can stay if they’d like to.

- He definitely tries to get you a bit out of your comfort zone but never minds if you just don’t feel like doing something. The two of you could just be standing and doing nothing and he’d be completely fine with it purely because he’s with you.

- He said it himself: he’s a total pushover for pretty girls. You can convince him to do pretty much anything because he’s too twerked up to say no.

- Doing his makeup. Did you see his lid space? The clean close shave? He’d probably outright refuse at first but he’d give in easy enough and you’d get to make him gorgeous.

- He loves the smell of your perfume. He’ll never admit it but he sprays himself with it before he leaves your house so that he can smell like you for the rest of the night. It’s comforting to him.

- He definitely messes around with your stuffed animals whenever he’s bored, you’re not paying attention to him, or just to make you smile.

- Making you laugh is one of his main missions in life. He loves hearing the sound; even if it’s at his expense. 

- Helping him clean up the messes he makes when he’s a total klutz, or just silently helping him when he’s awkwardly and cluelessly fumbling with something. 

- Standing up for him; especially if you’re higher on the social hierarchy.  

- Walking to class together. 

- Sitting with him at lunch; even though it’s sort of social suicide. You get a lot of stares and weird interactions from the other geeks but Bryce and Cliff have gotten used to you and have become pretty good friends of yours. 

- Him carrying your things, or you; he’s surprisingly strong for such a little guy. 

- You’re like 90% of his impulse control and one of the only reasons he’s still alive. You keep him in check because he desperately needs it sometimes.

- Sharing secrets. 

- Having earnest conversations. Most of the time, he feels like he needs to put up a front to seem cool but the longer you're together, the more he realizes you like him for him and that he can just be himself. 

- He can act like a bit of a jerk sometimes but he does genuinely care about your feelings and is actually pretty good at making you feel better when you’re feeling down. 

- He’s definitely pretty jealous. You hang out with him and a bunch of geeks who are constantly ogling and trying to get close to you. Not to mention the fact that you’re really pretty and could bag a boy who’s much higher on the social ladder than he is. 

- He’s not overprotective of you but he does care enough about you to put his weeny ass on the line. He may not be the most helpful in a dangerous/scary situation but he’s fully ready to get his ass kicked to defend you; he’s gotten it bruised for less than that. 

- You don’t fight a lot but the two of you do get into a few good arguments and fights. You’ll argue for a while until you move to just leave, he’ll stop you and calm his tone down while trying to reason with you and explain his point of view. He has a habit of saying the wrong thing or doing things without thinking so that may be part of the reason you’re moving to leave. 

- He is genuinely sorry whenever he’s blatantly messed up but he’ll usually apologize for his attitude regardless of who’s in the wrong and say “but you have to admit x” and you will have to admit it no matter how stubborn you are. 

- He likes when you tell him that you love him but he’s a bit too shy to say it back in fear of messing up his “stud persona”. He’ll usually just give you a kiss and tell you he loves you when you’re alone. 

- You’re his first love so he has that naive, “we’re gonna last forever” mindset; even though he doesn’t talk about it all that much. That’s not to say that you won’t though, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful life together. 

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale

Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort

Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.

Word Count: 2459

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253

You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.

Deep breath in.

The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.

Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.

One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.

Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.

Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.

You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.

As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.

Not cold enough. Try harder.

A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.

Still not good enough.

You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,

‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’

There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.

He is almost luminous.

One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.

You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.

Or maybe you’d died?

As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.

‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’

You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.

‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.

‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.

Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.

‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.

The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.

You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.

As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.

Some kind of miracle?

The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.

‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.

‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.

‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.

Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.

With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.

No one’s every asked you that before, have they?

The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.

Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.

As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.

‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.

‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’

You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.

‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’

As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.

With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.

‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.

Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’

Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.

As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.

—

Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.

Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.

‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.

‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.

‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.

‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.

‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.

‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.

Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.

[damistrolls]

work with me here, old man. anons might be convincing him to stop being a weenie and give it a shot as we speak,

"NO ONE ASKED THEM TO INVOLVE THEMSELVES. DO THEY NOT KNOW HOW TO LEAVE TWO OLD MEN BE?"

[lannister-slings-and-arrows]

Laugh With Me a Little- Frederick Chilton fanfic

(Gif by @humanveil )

Hey look! It’s been a few months! And I come back bearing gifts! This is another piece in a series that @pascalispretty and I have been slowly but surely working on, and here I now present it to you for your reading pleasure. This is technically an AU I suppose. We have made the executive decision to pretend that Jack Crawford can at least fake being a competent law enforcement officer and holster his gun properly while not in active pursuit of a suspect. You know, so Miriam Lass can’t just pluck it off his belt and shoot my darling anxious grumpy lonely loser weenie husband in the face. 

Part Two of the series A Sign That Someone Loves Me Part One: Sleep Therapy 

Warnings: oral sex (cunnilingus), smut, sex, past violence, mild reference to gore, Fred is a thicc boy and we love it, I suppose a bit of an AU lol Rating:  Explicit. There’s sex folks Word Count: 5929 not sorry at all Summary: You and Fred have only had bad days and worse nights since his release from FBI custody. Stuck under guard in a hotel, a bad joke, a good laugh and a well-timed trademark application might just help you and Fred start to connect again.

For the first time in weeks, you wake up slowly, naturally. There are no imagined monsters looming over the foot of your bed; there is no frantic husband shaking you awake to make sure you’re still alive, that you haven’t been taken from him in the night.

Instead, Fred sleeps soundly on as you stir awake. He’s flat on his back, one arm flung out towards you over the sheets. When you realize that he’s still asleep, you almost hold your breath for fear that even the slightest movement will wake him.

Even before Hannibal had broken into your home and strewn mutilated corpses about the place, Fred had been sleeping terribly. There had been nights when you had woken to find him simply staring at you, something unreadable written in those sharp green eyes.

By the time he had been released from prison and ushered into protective custody in the hotel suite the two of you still occupied, he was barely sleeping at all.

There were nights when he would shake you awake, convinced that Hannibal had somehow snuck in during the night, killed you, and then tucked you back into bed for Fred to find in the morning. Other nights, you would wake up to find him shaking and thrashing, transported back to Gideon’s makeshift operating table, or to your bloodied kitchen with disemboweled agents on display.

Yet this morning, he’s still and quiet, lips parted ever so slightly as he breathes evenly and deeply. After everything —being eviscerated by Gideon, framed by Hannibal, almost shot in the head by Miriam —lying beside him and listening to him breathe is better than music. Watching the rise and fall of his chest, being able to feel the warmth radiating off him, all the signs of life and vitality that you thought you’d never see again, is more than enough to content you as you lie beside him.

You’re not sure how long you lie there, just watching him sleep. It’s like a spell has been woven over the two of you, an aura of comfort and warmth enveloping you both. It almost saddens you when Fred starts to stir against the pillows. To your surprise, instead of waking up startled or panicked, he has a hint of a smile on his face.

“Hannibal the cannibal,” he whispers to himself, eyes still closed.

“What?” Your brow wrinkles in confusion, wondering what on earth about that moniker Fred could possibly find worth smiling about.

“It rhymes,” he murmurs, before turning his head to meet your worried gaze. “It —it fucking rhymes.” The smile on his face widens, and before you entirely know what’s happening, he’s laughing. It’s a sound that you’ve gone so long without hearing that it takes you entirely by surprise, leaving you in stunned silence as he carries on chuckling to himself.

His laughter is infectious, and soon the two of you have tears streaming from your eyes as you laugh together, sides sore and cheeks aching. Fred gathers you close and drops a kiss on the top of your head, a casual gesture that’s so reminiscent of times untainted by fear or desperation that it almost makes you want to cry.

Fred kicks away the sheets, and scrambles for his laptop where he had left it on the hotel desk.

“What’re you doing?”

“You think I’m going to pass up the chance to trademark ‘Hannibal the Cannibal’? I’m scared, not stupid.” 

********

The two of you have a really good day. 

You convince him to leave the hotel and do a little shopping, have lunch at an actual restaurant, after which you take a nap on the couch in your room with his head in your lap, face buried in your stomach. 

After dinner he sits down on the bed with you and just stares into your eyes, lacing your fingers together. And you lean over and kiss him. Really kiss him. Easily. Not the desperate kiss of him being released from prison, or a terrified kiss after a nightmare, or the reassuring kisses he needs sometimes when he thinks you’re being followed or he loses track of you for a minute. A real kiss, just because you want to and he’s handsome and there in front of you.

It doesn't take long for him to pull you closer, tugging you up onto his lap so he can hold you tightly to him. All the room service food has been good to him; he'd lost weight while he was being detained, so you can't help but grin at how broad and squeezable he once again feels. He hasn't shaved in a day or two, and his stubble scratches like the old days at your face.

Both of his hands cradle your face close to his, tilting it to the perfect angle so he can lick into your mouth ever so gently. You love the scratch on your cheeks, the burn on your skin from his whiskers, savoring the pain because you know you won’t be able to convince him to keep it much longer. 

You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him before bringing a hand back around to slip under his sweater and rub gently at his growing belly — but over his shirt because he still gets skittish about his scar being touched. You feel him start to harden under you and you smile wider into the kiss.

“Hello there, Fred,” you sigh.

It feels like it's been an age since you last felt like this, just indulging in one another. Before his arrest, the two of you had been too angry with one another to even consider it and afterwards you'd both been a little too on edge. 

"Hi there," he murmurs back, one of his hands sliding down your side to tug at your hip, pulling you even closer to him. It feels so achingly familiar, like you're right back in your bedroom at the old house helping him tug his sweater over his head, not here in the hotel. The movement messes up his hair, and you can't help but run your fingers through it, letting your nails scratch lightly at his scalp, just how you know he likes it.

His eyes flutter closed, you feel his cock twitch under you, and he moans quietly, hands clutching convulsively at you. Your insides burn at the noise, your whole body warming at the feel of him around you and under you again. The smell of his shampoo is intoxicating, the feel of his long fingers burrowing under your shirt to pet lightly at your bare skin shoots lightning bolts of pure sensation from their point of origin and into your brain and your toes, lighting every nerve in between on fire. 

He opens his soft green eyes and you start to drown in them; but drown slowly because there’s no need to rush this time. You’re safe, he’s safe, and no one is going to take him away from you again. You lean forward to kiss him, your fingers still tangled in his now hopelessly mussed hair.

You could lose yourself in his kiss alone, your every sense completely overwhelmed by him. His long fingers start to tug at your shirt, and you whine when you have to break your kiss and lean back so he can pull it over your head. You're not sure how long the two of you stay like this, his hands at your waist and your fingers in his hair, making out like teenagers. 

For the first time in weeks, you're utterly present with one another; there are no monsters hiding under the bed distracting you. You practically purr when Fred shifts, pushing you down so you're on your back and he's lying between your legs. The feeling of his warm, broad bulk pressing you into the mattress only makes you wetter, rocking your hips ever so slightly upwards against him.

He presses down harder into you, allowing almost all of his weight to settle on top of you and he stops kissing you. He pulls back and stares at you, smiling when you frown and try and chase his lips. 

“Patience, darling, patience.” You huff and then moan when he shifts his own hips and drives the seam on your pants tighter against you. He rests his forehead against yours and sighs, hips stilling, eyes closed, cock hard against your center. His arms are bracketing your head as he bumps his nose against yours. 

“I missed you,” he admits softly.

"I missed you too," you tell him, brushing his hair carefully back from his forehead. "This feels so nice." You let your eyelids flutter shut, relishing the cosiness and warmth and intimacy. Fred hums in agreement, mouthing his way across your jaw and down to your neck. 

His weight on you is so comforting, such a solid reminder that he's here, safe and with you, and you find yourself tugging at his shoulders trying to pull him closer still. The kisses he's trailing down your neck make you shiver, every press of his lips only adding to the heat pooling in your core.

He’s subtly rocking against you, with little flicks of his hips that serve only to tease you, not to provide any real relief. You whine in the back of your throat as you feel him drag his teeth softly against your neck on a more forceful thrust. His belly expands against yours, you can feel every breath he takes and it’s glorious, having warm, heavy proof of his vitality. You clutch at him as he goes to sit up. 

“No, Fred, wait—.” He bends down again and kisses your nose and then each eyelid and then finally your lips, hands going to the bottom of his shirt and pulling it off, leaving himself bare and exposed above you. You take in the sight of so much smooth skin, marked only by the still pink scar that Abel Gideon left, and you start to tear up.

It's such a vivid reminder of the last time you almost lost him, of the frantic phone call summoning you to the hospital while they tried to replace your husband's innards as best they could. Fred knows you well enough to know that your reaction isn't one of disgust (though it had taken weeks to convince him his scars didn't affect your attraction to him in the slightest). He knows it reminds you of how close you came to losing him all over again, and a few tears break free and slide down your face. 

"I'm right here," he murmurs soothingly, kissing away your tears with the lightest brush of his lips. "I'm not going anywhere." One of his hands comes up to cup your face gently, his green eyes boring into yours as your foreheads touch again.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hang off of him like a ragdoll, clinging more tightly than can possibly be comfortable for him. He doesn't say a word, he just shifts his weight, leaning more heavily on his elbows so he doesn’t fall onto you. Fred stares at you, hands on your face, your tears running over his fingers. You try to focus on the feeling of his warm skin pressed so deliciously against yours and you breathe deeply, finally letting go of him with one arm to reach down and tug on his belt buckle. He flicks his eyes briefly away from your teary ones to your hand resting on his waistband and looks back up at you. 

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly, tracking a few more tears as they make their way down your face. “We can just stay like this tonight.” You shake your head and smile at him, stretching your neck up to capture his lips again while you tug insistently on his belt. He moans when you card the fingers of your free hand through the thick hair on the back of his head and yank, and he swipes away the tear tracks on your cheekbones with his thumbs before sitting up again.

For a long moment, he just looks at you. His fingers trace absent patterns along your sides, and the gentle touch only makes you want more from him.

 "Take this off for me?" he asks rather than orders you, his long fingers brushing against the bottom of your bra. You're eager to comply, sitting up just enough to allow you to unclasp it and throw it somewhere to the side. Instead of trying to touch your breasts, Fred's fingers go to the waistband of your pants. "Can I?" He waits for you to nod eagerly before he tugs them and your underwear down. With you laid out bare before him, he kneels between your legs and savours the sight of you, the intensity of his gaze making your skin feel hot without him even having to touch you.

“Fred, come on, please,” you beg him, smiling up at your husband. “You’re a little overdressed.” He smirks back at you and stretches out on the bed, his shoulders shoving your legs further apart. 

“I’ll get to that eventually,” he assures you, turning his head to place a series of kisses on the inside of one knee and then the other. He looks up at you from his place between your legs, his face so close to where you want it, where it hasn’t been in what feels like forever, and tells you, “I’ve been dreaming about this since we started fighting. I want to eat you out until you can’t even remember my name to scream.” Your breath hitches and you pet your fingers through his hair. “Is that okay with you, darling?”

"God, yes," you gasp out, knowing full well that you've been dreaming of much the same lately. His breath is warm against your thigh as he lets out a soft chuckle, and you try to let yourself relax as he kisses his way up the sensitive skin. 

At the first touch of his velvet tongue against your cunt, you throw your head back against the pillows and sigh. It's been far too long; you're so sensitive that your body feels like one long exposed nerve ending. You tug at Fred's hair, and nearly weep at the sensation of him moaning against you. "Oh, fuck, that feels so good. Missed you," you manage between heaving breaths.

His tongue flicks across your clit hard, fast, and you whine, high and long in the back of your throat, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. “Fred –Fred, god, Fred that feels—” His hair is so soft and fine between your fingers, his mouth so warm and wet between your legs. Your face is flushed and you feel an orgasm building in the center of you already, a hot, burning bloom spreading in waves through you, and your fingers clench in his hair. He’s about to shove you over that ledge and— 

He leans back and rests his stubbly cheek on your thigh, looking up at you with eyes swirling with mischief, a smile lighting up his whole face and slick glistening on his chin. You blink stupidly at him, chest heaving, orgasm receding. 

“What-—?” 

He brings his fingers around to ghost over your slit gently, eyes flicking from yours to your cunt, and he licks his lips, rubbing his cheek against the inside of your knee.

"I did tell you to be patient." He smirks, pressing lazy kisses along your skin. "What's your rush, darling?" he asks in a tone of voice that makes you want to kick him. 

"You were the one that wanted to make me scream," you huff sulkily, which only makes him smirk more. He carries on trailing kisses up your thighs, and after what feels like an eternity, licks a firm line along your cunt. Your fingers tighten in his hair, desperate to keep him exactly where he is as he languidly mouths over you, in no hurry at all to get you off. 

He's always been attentive when it comes to making sure you finish; you've teased him more than once that he enjoys you praising him while he makes you come almost as much as he likes getting to come himself. "So good at this, Fred," you sigh happily, petting his hair.

He mumbles something against you, you don’t know what, but it feels fantastic and your nails drag against his scalp. He moans and you look down your body to see his hips rutting gently against the mattress. 

“Jesus, Fred. Fuck this feels amaz—” you break off to keen sharply, one knee jerking up against the side of his head as he sucks hard on your clit, letting go to briefly nibble and then returning to fucking you with his tongue. You throw your head back as all of your muscles clench and your body tries to curl in on itself. He holds your legs open when they try to close around his head and he goes back to sucking on your clit and you feel your legs start to twitch and shake. 

“Fred, Fred, fuck, yes, just like that,” you whine at him, his hair tangled in your fingers. He suddenly presses two fingers inside of you, lips still wrapped around your clit, and you can’t breathe except in short, sharp gasps and when he curls his fingers up just like that to drag against your top wall you come. You feel like you’ve been electrocuted and you whine, “Fred, oh, fuck, yes!”

He doesn't stop or check his pace at all; he simply uses his free hand to keep your hips still as he carries on, dragging out your orgasm. You can barely get enough air into your lungs to breathe, especially when he starts to suck lightly on your clit again. 

"Oh, God, Fred—," you whimper, clutching weakly at his hair as you let yourself give into the overwhelming pleasure. He crooks his fingers just so inside of you, pressing against that spot that makes your toes curl and your vision whiten. It doesn't take him long at all to push you over the edge again, more tears creeping from beneath your lashes at the exquisite feeling.

You’re a whimpering teary-eyed mess as he starts to finally slow the pace of his fingers and ceases sucking on your clit. Your breath is coming in sharp inhales and even shorter exhales, your vision a little grey around the edges as he gently cleans you up of everything he’s been able to wring out of you with long, slow licks of his tongue. 

Tears are still quietly making their way down your cheeks and onto the pillow beneath you and every single muscle in your body twitches when he bumps against your clit. The groan that fights its way out of your chest when he eventually pulls his fingers out of your cunt is truly impressive and immediately echoed by one of his own. 

“Fred,” you sigh quietly, unable to keep a bit of a sob out of your voice. He looks up at you from where he’s watching your cunt clench around nothing as he licks his hand clean and frowns, adorable furrows appearing on his brow, lips starting to purse. 

“Darling, hey, don’t cry, no.” He stretches out on top of you, all of his weight crushing you into the mattress again and wraps his arms around you. 

“That was so good Fred,” you tell him, burying your face in his neck and hanging on to him tightly, nails digging into his back just hard enough to leave a few marks till the morning. "So good to me," you murmur against his neck, soothed by the feeling of his warm bulk pressing you into the bed, and his stubble scratching against your face. 

"Are you alright? Was it too much?" Fred asks, petting at your hair as best as he can while you cling to him. He sounds apologetic, and you shake your head adamantly. 

"No. I just— I really have missed you." You press your knees more tightly to his sides and tilt your hips upwards to drive your point home. "Missed how good you are at making me come. Missed how hot it is to watch you fuck me from behind in the mirror. I’ve missed it all." You carry on rocking your hips up, gratified when he starts to move with you. "God, and I've missed the way you feel inside me. Don't you miss it? Miss those little naps we used to take with your cock buried inside me, keeping me nice and full?"

His cock twitches and he groans into your hair, his fingers tangling in the long strands and tugging in time with the roll of your hips. 

“Ye— yes,” he hisses, bare chest starting to heave against yours, his skin warm and smooth and soft, a little slick with sweat in places. “I missed—” One of his hands strokes down your side to grab your leg and hoist it higher against his hips, this new angle opening you up further to him. “I missed how warm you are, how tight around my cock, how you seem to fit me exactly. Like you were made to surround me forever.” His chin digs into your head and you whimper at the feeling of the front of his slacks dragging across your exposed and still over-sensitive clit. 

“Fred, Fred, oh, god, fill me up again, I don’t want to go any longer without—” He squeezes your knee and nods, still moving his hips against yours. 

“I missed you so much, you’re all I thought about in there, your—” You both moan and you bite into his neck, whining as another orgasm, almost painful this time, begins to burn through your body, starting at your cunt and rolling its way to your fingers, gaining momentum and searing his name across every nerve in your body. “How good you felt, your fingers in my hair,” Fred continues to speak but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears. 

“Fuck, Fred, yes, don’t stop, please, please, like that,” you wail.

A loud sob escapes you as you’re dragged over the edge of your third climax of the night, every muscle in your body taut as pleasure races through your veins once more. A few more tears fight their way free, the overstimulation on your clit starting to make you sore, but you’re not done yet. 

Before you’ve even really finished coming down from your orgasm, you push your hands between your body and Fred’s, trying to undo his pants with clumsy fingers. He grunts against your hair and bats your hands away, sitting up only for as long as it takes to free himself of his remaining clothes. 

You only get the briefest of glimpses of him finally naked before he falls back onto you, pressing kisses along your neck, all thoughts of patience long abandoned. You wrap one of your hands around his cock and guide him into you, crying out loudly as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you to him as he grinds himself as deeply as he can into your cunt.

He stills, nestled deep inside of you, not moving for whole seconds, an interminably long time, and you both breathe harshly, staring at each other, heads pressed together, warm air fanning across your cheeks in sharp pants. His cock twitches inside of you and you clamp down on it, whining when he grinds his pelvis harder against yours in response. 

“Can’t—” he huffs. “Stop moving— just, stay here,” Fred orders, breathless and red-faced. You nod and savor the feeling of him inside you again, of being full and covered and smothered. Of struggling to take a breath because of his weight on top of you and him sitting inside of you. Both of your legs are wrapped high around his waist and you grip his forearms that are bracketing your head. His eyes are practically glowing as you pant, 

“God, Fred, fuck, you— I feel so full, this feels so good—” He twitches again and you feel like the oxygen has suddenly been snatched from the entire hotel. “You feel so fucking good, Jesus just, fuck me, please!” You’re begging him now and you can’t find it in you to care.

He gives a short, sharp thrust that makes you both moan, and he buries his nose into your hair. 

"Won't last," he murmurs, almost apologetically. "Been too long." Your nails scrabble along his back, trying to get him to move again. As much as you want to prolong the feeling of him inside you, the feeling of being so utterly encompassed and full, you can't bear him being still right now. 

"I don't care, Fred, please—" You almost sob when he groans into your hair and starts to move. He tries to start off slow, but it's been far too long for that kind of pace to last. Instead, he goes faster than he normally prefers, chasing his first orgasm in weeks. You can't get enough of him; even though you're starting to feel sore, you never want him to stop making those quiet, pleased little sounds right against your ear.

He groans quietly every time he fills you, stretches you, punches the air right out of your lungs with sharp thrusts of his hips. His cock drags against your walls and you gasp. 

“Jesus, Fred.” He huffs a quiet moan in your ear and grabs your thigh, pushing your leg higher and thrusting harder, deeper. “Fred!” you practically shriek, nails digging into his sides, as the head of his cock hits something that makes your toes curl and your calves jerk. Fred lets go of one of your legs to slip his fingers between you and rub tight circles over your clit, panting, 

“Come on, darling, one more, you can do it.” You sob and shake your head, hanging on to his shoulder and the hair at the back of his head. 

“Fred, Fred, please, please, this feels so good come on, just come.” He grunts and presses harder. 

“You can, one more, I know you can.”

“‘S too much,” you whine, even as you buck your hips up into his touch. Every brush of his fingers or press of his hips sends a wave of heat burning through your veins and down to your core, but every touch is tinged with the barest hint of pain. Fred moves his mouth over your neck, dragging his teeth over your sensitive skin in a way that only sends you higher. 

“So good for me, darling. Just one more, I want to feel you come around me.” How could you refuse him that? You scratch at his back, his shoulders, his sides, trying to anchor yourself to something as the overwhelming pleasure starts to make you boneless and lightheaded. You sob something that might have been his name, or a curse, or anything in between as you finally come, bearing down hard on his cock and burying your face against his neck. Four isn’t even your record, but you’ve gotten out of practice of late. You get a glimpse of Fred’s hair sticking up in fifteen different directions as he leans back up to kiss you.

You whimper into his mouth as he keeps rocking his hips into you at a brutal pace, his cock moving against sensitive walls and sending shocks against your clit with every thrust. It’s too much, it hurts, it burns, and it feels so good; your thighs try to clutch him even closer but his shoulders keep pressing them apart and close to your chest. He releases your lips and just rests his face next to yours, panting, 

“God, close, close.” 

You cling to him, trying to pull him as tight against you as possible, to feel every inch of his bare skin sliding against yours— you never want to leave this moment right here, this moment where it’s finally just the two of you again, no Gideon, no Hannibal, no FBI, no one but him and his heartbeat against your chest, his breath across your face. 

“Inside, come inside me, please, Fred, it feels—” you plead, a couple more tears leaking out as his cock continues to grind into you, hitting every delicious already overstimulated spot. “Feels so good, you feel so good, please, please.”

Fred chokes out a gasp, your name, and helps you in your quest for closeness. He grips you tightly to him and his cock pulses inside of you, you feel him flood your cunt and his hips stutter to a halt. He rests heavily on top of you and deep inside you; it doesn’t seem to you like he wants to let you go any more than you want him to be more than a centimeter away from you.

The two of you lie like that for a long while, even after Fred has softened inside you. Neither of you wants to be the first to move, to break the spell of quiet intimacy that has settled over you both. If you close your eyes, you could be right back in your bed in Baltimore, instead of some anonymous hotel room in DC under assumed names. The world has shrunk to the size of the two of you, and you bury your head into the crook of his neck to keep it that way for just a little longer. 

Yet despite your wishes, you can’t stay like that forever. Already a deep ache is making itself known in your core and your thighs; you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to keep your legs pressed so tightly against Fred’s torso. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself whimpering at the burn in your muscles when you eventually shift your legs lower, but Fred notices your discomfort anyway. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asks softly, brushing your hair back so he can stroke your face. 

“Sore,” you manage pathetically, a sharp little cry forcing its way out of your throat at the sensation of him pulling out of you. 

“How sore?” His tone changes in an instant, and he tries to sit up to get a better look at you. You don’t let him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to keep him close. 

“Nothing a hot bath won’t fix, don’t worry. I’m just out of practice,” you say lightly, trying to keep him from worrying. It doesn’t entirely work; he carefully shifts to move his weight off of you until he’s on his back and your head is resting on his chest. You can hear the steady thud of his heartbeat like your own personal lullaby, and you can feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

He lets you rest for a moment, silent and steady under you, before heaving a sigh and kissing the top of your head. 

“You’re going to have to let me up if you want that bath, sweetheart,” he informs you cheekily. You groan, clutching him around his waist tighter before releasing him with a sigh. He slips out from under you and stands, turning slightly to stare at you with a soft smile stretching his chubby cheeks for a few extra seconds before padding quietly to the bathroom. You smile and shamelessly ogle his ass as he walks away from you. 

Fred comes back a few minutes later, still buck naked and on display for you, and grins back when he catches you checking him out. 

“See something you like?” he asks, stopping by the side of the bed and extending a hand to help you sit up. You grasp his long, warm fingers and barely suppress an eye roll. You missed your cocky husband, you have to remind yourself. And it's not like he doesn’t have anything to be cocky about. 

“Don’t fish for compliments,” you tell him, sitting up with a wince. He notices. “It’s unbecoming of a man of your stature.” Fred moves to take your arm and he gently tugs you out of bed, handsome face still pulled into a worried frown.

The two of you make your way slowly to the bath, Fred walking by your side and insisting on maintaining a pace more suitable for an invlid, but you do eventually make it and settle into water hot enough to cook a lobster— just the way you like it.

“Mmmm,” you groan, resting back against Fred’s chest and tugging his arms around you securely. “This is wonderful.” 

“You know what would make this even better?” you ask him.

“Better?” he responds with fake offense, a little bit of his old barely-restrained snobbery huffing back into his tone, and to hear it again makes you warmer than any bubble bath. “What else can I do for you this evening, my darling girl?”

“Some bubbly to go with these bubbles would be wonderful.”

He huffs a laugh and you feel him relax further still against the tub wall behind you, his lassitude pulling you back with him, a tide you’re more than happy to be swept away by.

“It’s a shame there isn’t an FBI agent we can’t call up to deliver that,” you muse, really carried away now by the idea of having some champagne.

“Really it would be the very least they could do,” Fred says.

“But you probably would criticize their choice of vintage.”

“Naturally. We don’t pay taxes to provide culture to Quantico.”

You smile and lean against him, playing with the bubbles rising in irregular, sudsy mountains around you. Fred has gone quiet, and you tune yourself to feel any of that old skittishness, any unease, worried that bringing up the FBI had conjured malevolent spirits into the suite. His fingers are moving mindlessly, no pensively, under the water, crawling against your thigh in contemplation.

“What is it?” you ask, voice easy.

“It’s not as easy to rhyme,” he says.

You have no idea what he is talking about but it feels as if you should. “What isn’t?” you ask.

“This ‘Hannibal the Cannibal’ trademark, that’s just the first step. Why not a brand? Champagne for a Rampage, no, that’s not right…”

You sit up and turn around.

“Frederick. Are you…. Are you thinking up names for a Hannibal branded champagne?”

“‘Brut fit for a brute’ is too wordy, don’t you think?”

“Fred!” You’re horrified, but he’s so serious you’re in danger of thinking this might be a good idea.

“Is this too niche? For a Rosé, ‘This is my d'assemblage.”

You look at each other and you have no idea what to say. The only thing you can do is laugh.

He grins at you, relieved you find the humor in this. “This has potential,” he tells you.

“You’re mad,” you say, but you can’t stop smiling.

“Why shouldn’t we profit from this?” he asks.

“Whatever you want, Fred,” you say and you mean it, because you want to give him everything, everything he wants, wants him to enjoy it all and be there to witness it. You lean in and kiss him. “Whatever you want.”