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#but if you do youre legally required to tell me about it
bytebun · 2 years
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hey don’t cry. 10 million blorbos from your shows, okay?
#commander cody#obi-wan kenobi#uh. i guess implied#codywan#star wars#bytebun draws#ok on twitter sometimes japanese artists i follow will caption their au posts with 'delusion for those who can accept anything'#(and then explain the au) (or at least that's what google translate tells me)#that's how i feel about this one.#can't imagine a universe where this guy would sit down to play mario cart w his bf's family after an obvious crying jag#but like maybe he watched legally blond or something & got rlly moved#abt the main character finding her own path with an identity separate from her partner without losing the core elements of her personality#and self-expression. and also winning at the law. you know?#au cody can have elle woods as his blorbo.#in my au where he's doing law things re: clone citizenship#but also fuck stylizing crying genuinely hard. idk if i can get stylistically simpler than the first pic & still convey the precise emotion#that i want. i'm cheating there with like some actual shading instead of hard lines... more studying required#it's like difficult to draw people crying bc/ it's one of those emotions that changes the whole shape of your face... the invert of a#beaming smile. the tears aren't the important part... that's why the 'stoic guy sheds single tear trope' is so funny#they're out there w their plastic immobile faces and a fake tear when the important part is all those scrunched up microexpressions#someone trying rlly hard not to cry has the deeper mouth corners & tense brow-eyelid combo & that wrinkle near the nostril#unfortunately all of these lines are also the only indication of old age in most anime lmao so its so so hard to figure out how to draw em#shld do some ch*insawman or g*lden kmy studies probably. those guys r pretty good at funny looking faces
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eowyntheavenger · 9 months
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Americans, these are things we are NOT saying in 2024:
"Voting blue won't solve anything." Yes it will: if enough of us do it, it will solve a problem called Trump's second term in the White House. We unfortunately live in a two-party system. If you refuse to vote, you're effectively voting for Trump. I shouldn't need to explain this to people, yet here we are.
"It doesn't matter who's president. Both candidates are the same anyway." No, they are REALLY not. Biden was never my first choice, and his shipments of arms to Israel are despicable, but don't try to tell me even for a second that a second Trump term would be the same for the world as a second Biden term.
"But voting blue won't fix [fundamental underlying problem in America]." Voting for Democrats cannot fix every issue, this is true. But by saying this and ONLY this you are discouraging people from voting by making them feel hopeless. Voting is one of many tools in our arsenal, not the only tool, but an important one, and it does matter.
"You shouldn't vote blue, you should do [other thing] instead." See above: you can vote and protest and organize at the same time. It's not either/or. You can do it all. Stop discouraging voters from exercising their rights under the guise of leftism.
"Voting is just legitimizing government power. It makes you part of the system." Literally just shut up. Women and people of color didn't fight for their voting rights to have you say things like this. If you live in America and you can legally vote, then you should fucking vote, and vote blue. There is no neutral option.
"Voting blue just makes you complicit in [this bad policy]." Inaction, and allowing Trump to have a second term, is worse for the entire world than any Democrat policy. Yes, even that one. Voting is not about finding a perfect unproblematic candidate. It is about choosing the lesser of two evils.
"Voting doesn't work because—" STOP IT. STOP DISCOURAGING PEOPLE FROM VOTING.
You know who wants you NOT to vote? Trump supporters, that's who. You should be suspicious of ANYONE who is suggesting that your vote doesn't matter, or that both candidates are the same, or that Biden's policy on XYZ means you shouldn't vote for him. Trump supporters aren't trying to get your vote by saying, "Vote for Trump!" They're trying to get your vote by DISCOURAGING YOU FROM VOTING AT ALL.
I don't like Biden either, but Trump is unequivocally worse. Voting doesn't fix everything, but it is the minimum fucking requirement of living in a democracy. Voting for president has real, tangible, immediate impacts on people's lives, and choosing not to vote is not the rebellion you think it is, it is just relinquishing your voice. So fucking vote. THIS IS A GROUP PROJECT AND DAMN IT WE ARE NOT FAILING BECAUSE OF YOU.
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ashenxrogue · 1 year
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me? causing drama in the workplace on purpose?
i'd never
aint my fault if I'm just finally so fed up with the management's bullshit that I'm dragging up everything they've ever said/done to me that's been some right shit
knock knock, the consequences of your actions have arrived
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torpublishinggroup · 7 months
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"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune
(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)
1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.
2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.
3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.
4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.
5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.
6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!
Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.
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juletheghoul · 2 months
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unclean
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a/n: Honestly, you can blame my period for this one. I took a huge liberty because usually women on their periods in this time weren't treated the way they should have been, also took an educated guess at forms of relief. This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for losing her mind with me, thanks my love! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!
Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus not being a little bitch about periods, creampie, blood & mess lets be real, boob worship, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!
Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader
word count: 2.4k
reblogs are appreciated
Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist
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The wince came without your permission, your face twisting in discomfort as you poured his wine, pausing for a moment to steady yourself; thankfully without spilling a drop.
“Are you hurt, girl?” You unclench your eyes and find him staring at you with a frown, no doubt confused by your expression. 
“Apologies Dominus, it is nothing.” You bow your head but hiss nonetheless and he puts down the bread. 
“Answer me truthfully girl, what pains you?” His eyes are intent and for a moment you cannot tell if it is annoyance or worry that twists his features. Heat rushes to your face, men usually don’t take the news well when they are reminded of the troubles of the opposite sex. You fidget, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth while you gather your wits. 
“It is just, my blood will flow soon Dominus. Sometimes the pain precedes it.” You bow your head and stare at the floor by his feet, gearing up for the usual responses you’d get from the men you’ve served, anger, or disgust. He says nothing, but when you look up he nods once. “I will retreat to my chambers soon. I will send someone else to tend to you if it pleases you, Dominus.” 
“I require nothing further, you may tend to your needs.” He dismisses you gracefully, much more so than any other you’ve served and it’s as though a heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 
The blood does not dull the pain. 
Hours after confessing to your Dominus, you can do nothing more than curl up in your bed, and suffer in silence. One of the older women had boiled some water for you to dip a flat stone, place it on your belly for relief and it had worked wonders for a time but both the water and the stone had gone cold ages ago. All that was left to do was grit your teeth and bear it. 
You cannot help but crave him even more, with the blood flowing, your lower back and breasts aching, and your insides twisting, the pleasure of his cock seemed like the miracle that could cure you. Men didn’t do that though, women all knew it was nothing more than what the female body did, but men–society deemed it unclean. And so you had to endure, without the relief of his body or his gift. Still, you couldn’t help but be grateful for him, he did not protest to the women in his service sequestering themselves until it passed. He did not ask questions, he did not balk at the talk of pain. 
The first day passed, and the second found you in more agony. The second was the worst for you, when the blood was the heaviest, and the discomfort grew nearly unbearable. 
The women brought you hot soups and wine warmed with spices, boiled water for the stone and clean rags for the mess. You thanked them, with tears in your eyes and they nodded and left you to your misery. You slept when you could, but when the night came, sleep had become a stranger, and all you could do was pray to all of the Gods to either take the pain, or take your life. 
Your door opened late into the night and you thought one of the women had brought more hot water but it was him, your Dominus, standing at the threshold to your modest chamber bathed in soft candlelight and shadow.
“Dominus-” You struggled, moving to stand too quickly and falling back to sit on your bed. “Apologies Dominus, what-” He held up his hands to forestall your speech. 
“Peace, girl, I am not here to ask anything of you.” He came in and closed the door, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I heard one of the women speaking about you, she said you were suffering a great deal.” 
“I am well, Dominus.” You could barely keep the grimace off your face.
“Do not lie to me, girl, I can see the agony.” He approached slowly, he’d already prepared for bed and wore a simple tunic. “I have heard it said that pleasure often eases the pain, but I will not force the issue if you do not desire it.” You stared up at him, confusion creeping into your pain-addled mind. He stood, staring at you, for all intents and purposes a gift from the Gods in himself. “Would you like me to help you?” 
“I– but you are not… the blood does not bother you, Dominus? I am unclean–” He raised his arms once more, a frown arranged on his features. 
“Blood has never bothered me, girl.” You droop with relief, tears springing to your eyes and an altogether different ache building between your legs. “You need it don’t you, you need me to take the pain away, hm?” He speaks softly again and all you can do is nod, pitifully. He stands before you, taking in the unruly state of you and for a moment you think you can almost see a soft affection on his face. His thumb swipes against the plump of your lower lip softly, “How do you desire it? Soft? With kisses and gentle touches?” he holds your chin between his pinched fingers, tilting your face up to gaze into his dark eyes, “Or do you desire it more forceful? How do you need me to fuck you?” 
Tears well, and you’re not sure if it’s the softness in his voice or the relief so clearly visible on the horizon, but you swallow around the lump of gratitude in your throat. “I want it all, Dominus,” you hold onto his forearm, afraid that if you don’t make contact with him, he might evaporate like dew in the morning. “I want kisses, and gentle touches but I want force as well, I need your gift to ease the pain.” 
“And you shall have it, my brave girl.” He reaches down, carefully pulling your tunic up and off and your nipples harden almost painfully. He slips his hand down, palming your breast softly, “Do they hurt too much for my attention?” soft as a breeze, his thumb strums at the sensitive tip of your breast and you bite your lip. 
“They ache, but I do not wish for you to stop.” You bring his other hand to your other breast, sighing at the tenderness in his touch. 
“I will be mindful.” He pulls away for a moment to undress and the sight of his cock standing at full mast is enough to make you whimper. “Patience, girl. You will have it soon enough, as deep as I can get.” You nod, but all at once you realize where you are. 
“You wish to have me here? My bed is not as lush as yours-” He sees slight embarrassment on your face and he waves it away. 
“This is my house, girl, I will have you where I please.”
You move back with a wince and he follows, discarding the soiled rag tucked between your legs without so much as a flinch and whatever feelings of devotion, of loyalty or possibly obsession you have for him grow to greater and greater strength. He settles between your spread thighs and just the warm heft of him is soothing, the heat of his skin on your belly, the heavy press of his cock on your sex like a balm. 
Wordlessly he presses his lips to yours, soft, and then not so soft and his tongue explores your mouth, he tastes of wine and dark ripe fruit and you cannot help but wrap your arms around his neck, thread your fingers through his thick waves and whimper. His lips travel, mapping out their course across your skin, down the column of your neck, the base of your throat until he takes your breast in gentle hand and licks at the peak and the moan escapes your lips without your leave. He moves to the other and showers it with the same affection, both breasts shiny with his spit and your cunt melts for him like frost in the face of the sun. You can feel the way he coats himself in your want, his cock slipping between the lips of your sex. He continues to worship your breasts, licking soft like a kitten, and then sucking the tip into his mouth until you cannot take it anymore. 
“Please Dominus,” Your voice breaks when he lets go of your nipple with a pop, enjoying the way you writhe underneath him. “I need it, I need your cock.” He kisses at your breast again before slipping his hand down, and finally slipping into the wet clutch of your cunt. “Gods above, yes, yes yes, please Dominus-” You’re breathless, the feel of him is good enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull. 
“Yes, I know girl, I’m right here.” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust and the moan you let out is obscene. “This little cunt is going to behave for me, isn’t it?” His lips barely touch yours, speaking the words into your mouth; his words, his rhythm making you drip onto the fabric below. The sounds between your legs are vulgar, wet and far more appealing than any music in the world, but it is not enough. You let out a whine, pitiful and painful and he frowns. “Is it not enough?” There is no anger, only the quest for truth in his tone and you shake your head, heartbroken and shaking with need. He pulls away, and you let out a cry of anguish and clutch to him, if he left you like this you don’t think you’d survive. “Peace, girl. We will change our positioning so I can give it to you how you need it.” 
When he pulls away, your eyes widen in shock and horror. Your blood has smeared all over him, his cock, his groin, spreading up almost to his belly, it collects at the mouth of your cunt and when you look down it is all over your inner thighs, the scene looking more like a battle than a bedding. He shakes his head, raising a hand to stop the apology before it is given. 
“This does not frighten me, girl. This is not the first time I have been covered in the blood of another, and it will not be the last. Turn around, I would have you on your hands and knees.” You nod, and with a wince you rush to comply, presenting your backside to him and within a moment he has pulled your hips back to meet his, his cock entering you with no resistance and from this angle he knocks the wind out of you. “There it is, this is the answer, yes?” He thrusts again forcefully and a sound you’ve never heard comes out of your mouth, a dark, wanton noise and it only proves him right. 
“Yes Dominus, please, like this–” you don’t finish your sentence because he pulls back and punches forward again with enough force to rock your bed. Your head drops, your back arching and he sets a brutal pace. Tears slip out from the corners of your eyes, trapped between where your face presses against the back of your forearms and you think for a moment that nothing has ever felt better. 
He grunts, and for a handful of minutes the only sounds are your combined heavy breathing, the wet squelch between your legs, and the rhythmic rocking of your bed. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips hard enough to bruise but it matters not, the pleasure is too great, the relief of his cock is a sign that the Gods are real and that they have sent him to you. 
You reach underneath, gasping at the feel of your cunt spread wide to take him and at just how wet you are. The engorged little pearl of your pleasure begs for attention, and you cannot deny it. With a handful of swirls you seize up, screaming through your climax and he groans as the fist of your cunt squeezes him tight, making him slow slightly but he doesn’t stop. Your knees give out for a moment but he doesn’t let you falter. 
“I am not finished with you yet, this little cunt will take what I give her.” His grip tightens and he lifts you back up into position. Fucking you through your flutters, “You will give me another, girl, you will squeeze my cock again, only then will I give you my gift.” He’s breathless, maneuvering his hand around to reach between your legs while he drapes himself against your back. His fingers manipulate you rougher than you did, forcing another climax out of you while his hips drive his cock deep enough to kiss your womb. 
The second climax is more intense and lasts longer and the force of it milks him dry. You feel him empty himself with a punched-out groan, collapsing onto you once his cock twitches for the last time. 
Everything is silent, and for a moment, you think you might have gone onto the afterlife but then he shifts and you take a deep, steadying breath. The relaxation is so great you are afraid to move, afraid that any engagement of your muscles might result in the pain returning and so you stay still as he pulls out. You will clean once he is gone but he shocks you again when you feel a cool cloth on the skin of your backside. 
“Dominus, I can–” You turn your head to him slowly but he shakes his head. The tenderness in his hands not reaching his face. 
“Silence, girl.” He says nothing else, but dips the cloth into the basin of water again and rings it out, cleansing the mess between your legs silently. “I expect you to let me know the next time you are in pain.” Once he is satisfied with his task, he dips the cloth again, and uses it on himself and there is something about seeing him do this that is unnatural, you cannot help but stare. He is quick; utilitarian. 
He drops the used cloth back into the basin, grabs his tunic and slips out of your room without so much as a glance but it matters not, you are asleep before he shuts the door.
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ophelieverse · 2 months
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Hii there Lia,i’m a little embarrassed because i’ve been following you since the beginning and i loved all of your posts,this time i wanted to be brave and ask for a request.I’m a Daemon girly,so can I request an imagine where he and reader kinda have a thing going on?Like it’s not official but they do😏😏things?Thank you for your service and your works,luv u💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
✦ ⟢balance
Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
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—Summary:reader is a dragonseed,the daughter of bastard child of one of the Targaryens,when the Rogue Prince went to search for dragon riders to fight in the war he sets his eyes on her for more than one purpose.
—Warnings:poor smut writing,reader will have the valyrian silver hair,kinda of incest,Daemon cheats on Rhae with reader(i apologize my Queen i love you)age gap(reader is legal)and Daemon being himself as always.
•—thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷
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If as a child they had told her that balance would be one of the basic requirements to ride a dragon,Y/n would never have believed it.
Because after all,even though she could have guessed it with the strength of the intellect,she was just a child who loved to dream and saw soldiers as heroes who had become such thanks to the strength of training.However,the truth was in the middle:it took talent and strength to become a good soldier,then a good dose of willpower and finally balance.
Y/n had lived her whole life on the island of Dragonstone and she was pretty sure that she was also going to die of old age,maybe in her warm bed or with her feet deep in the sand,in the place that she had always called home.
Her father was a fisherman from Essos,Volantis to be exact that loved to take her on his boat and tell her stories about his home in the other continent.A simple man,an insignificant part of sand in the sea.Nothing special.Her mother however,was definitely something more special and it could be seen in her wild silver hair that danced in the morning breeze.
The white tangle of mess that crowned her head was the only thing that Y/n had inherited from her mother.The stained and not pure Valyrian blood that circled in her veins,the proof that the fairy tales about dragons,princesses and castles that her mother used to whisper to her at night before putting her to sleep,were part of them.Her mother was a bastard child,daughter of the princess Gael Targaryen.
And Y/n was her granddaughter,her mother made sure that she remembered that before her death,that she was also the blood of the old Valyria and that the dragons that she had saw on the island were hers by birth right.That she shouldn’t be settling down for an ordinary life but that she could be so much more.A dragon rider.
Balance.
And she would have never believe it as a child that that word would be one of the keys to her entire future:of choices made on the spot that could aim for the balance of the situation in just a few seconds.
But also of balance merely on the physical side: she remembers how long it took to find the balance necessary to stand straight on Vermithor,the bronze fury who seemed to have taken a liking in her choosing Y/n as his new rider. When from the bottom of her eight years and with a few teeth missing it seemed so easy to her for the Targaryen to fly up there.
She had spent years of her life,running up and down the docks,nose up in the air,eyes never leaving the sky and the beautiful creatures flying back on the hills of Dragonstone.Never in her life Y/n thought that one day she would have been up there with them,riding King Jaehaerys dragon for the coming war.
She remembers it as if it were yesterday:the heavy wood on her shoulders, the suspenders pulling on her dress,the smell of sweat and fish -by who stood still under the sun,like her,to look at the Rogue Prince,Daemon Targaryen walking through the dirty streets.She remembers the gravel under his feet,the clean smell of his clothes,the way his purple eyes seemed to shine under the light and the way they were studying her whole body from the top of her head to her bare feet.
Y/n could also remember the way she felt her skin catch of fire,they way her father trembled next to her without saying a word,as the prince took a strand of her hair between his fingers.Carefully,as if he was counting every single hair,he brought them to his nose to give them a sniff.
«Yes.»his voice was low,it made her shiver,his eyes never leaving hers«You smell like a dragon.»it sounded like he was disgusted but on his face there was no trace of it.
It’s been months since then,but Daemon hadn't aged much from that day,or at least,she remembered him exactly with that aspect.The long pale hair styled to perfection,the nails well-groomed,the voice deep.Clean clothes.The blade of his sword shiny and sharp.Purple eyes with pure fire behind them.White skin and beard shaved to perfection.
He is sitting in front of Y/n with his legs apart at the foot of the bed as he finishes reading a report.The war was closer each day and they needed to be ready.Y/n slipped into his room like every night.
Daemon was married to Queen Rhaenyra,but he didn’t spend much time with her.He had a war to prepare and to win.He was the one that suggested to find more dragon riders,the one that went searching for them and the one that trained them.All of them,four to be exact,were simple people before a dragon had claimed them.
Y/n was chosen by Vermithor,a massive creature with more teeth than anything else,whose roar shook the very foundations of Dragonstone.
«The best for the best.»Daemon had commented,holding her hand as he helped her getting down.
«I’m sure he is.»Y/n had muttered once she was steady on her feet,on the solid ground«But i don’t know if i will be able to be of any help.He will be better without me on him.»she said,placing a insecure hand on the dragon head.
The Rogue Prince observed the way the creature nuzzled against her touch«You have blood of the dragon in you.He knows it,you know it.You exist and there are no more excuses,you were born to do this.»his voice was more gentle this time.
He hadn’t been this caring and careful with Ser Hugh or Addam,keeping his face stoic and his eyes cold while he was telling them what to do with their dragons.But the war was closer each day and the last thing he needed was a scared little girl that didn’t knew how to ride a dragon.
Y/n was young,naive,soft and pure.Everything that he wasn’t,everything that he saw in his niece when he was just a child,everything he took from him previous wife,that he had lost in the daughter he didn’t met and in the one that he ignores.Everything that he craved and wanted,that was pulling him to her like a moth to a flame.
In the beginning he thought it was because of that.Y/n was much younger that he was,she didn’t had any manners,he would think of her as a ignorant and savage girl that didn’t knew how to read or write,which silverware to use at the dinner table,how dress properly or how to take care of her beautiful moon hair.
So he took care of her.He thought her how to read and write,how to sit at a table,how to hold a sword .Once her face was clean from the dirt and her skin smelled of roses and vanilla,dressed in one of Rhaena pastel pink dresses,he saw in her the purity and familiarity he had lost in those years.The innocence that he took from the women in his life without asking,the perfect immaculate skin that he didn’t stained yet,the hair,just like his,that he didn’t pulled,the beautiful heart shaped lips he didn’t tasted.
It was like looking at a ghost from his past,as she was in front of him so unsure and with the desire to please in every possible way,to make him proud,to have him pay attention to her,to just become his favorite.
«The key is in the balance.»he had explained to her,his big hand covering her lower back as he walked her back to the castle.
«Balance?»Y/n asked confused with a little voice.
Daemon nodded«Once you will find your balance and be steady on your own feet,everything will be easier.»he said.
Balance.
Y/n marks it in her mind,every letter as a stepping step.It's what she thinks she's found for the first time in her life:Daemon gives her a sense of calmness,peace after the battle,even after the biggest losses,even if he seems more broken,more broken after every defeat or every time that he has a fight with Rhaenyra.
But his presence is still reassuring.It's like a hot tea when you have a sore throat.Like honey in milk.Reassuring,comforting.Somehow.
Daemon was the first person that had spent so much time to take care of her and Y/n knew it was wrong.It wasn’t proper the way he would sit next the bathtub while she was washing,in the way he would brush her hair every night,kiss her forehead and cradle her head on his chest before falling asleep.It wasn’t proper when he was married,to the Queen no less,it was treason and it mean death penalty.But that didn’t stop them.
He had a perfect balance between Y/n,the young and virgin girl,the pure maiden,the new thing in his life and Rhaenyra,the old mad Queen,the one thing he already had possessed and had nothing else to offer him.
Daemon is all Y/n knows about life.He made sure to teach her that.It is the balance of the spirit and the balance of the body.It's the beauty of his armor and in the way he stands proudly on Caraxes,the way he spend his time to clean Dark Sister.The shirt just opened and messy hair on his head.
He is tired.He is already half undressed.The cloak hung him on the chair.
Y/n,on the other hand,is not as balanced as he is,she had tried for him but she had failed:she still feels the adrenaline running through her blood, running through her veins and singing her soul.She knows what she wants to put out the fire,to turn off the brain,to regain balance.
And she waits with all her might just like Daemon with patience.
Balance.First duty then pleasure.He had talked with Rhaenyra about the battle plans and then he went to call for Y/n to spend the night with her.
Y/n is learning to be patience,so she observes him:she looks at his long silver hair tickling down his neck,the first buttons of his shirt open and his lips reading.His purple eyes are hidden behind the paper in his hand:he has a curved back and his arms resting on his thighs.
Y/n can't help but think about how much he likes Daemon,even with sweaty hair,especially like that. So human,so true.In that little corner that is created between them,in the late evening,in that room.
It seems to her that everything else does not exist,that the world is not that terrible place dominated by fire and blood,that human beings are free,that she can love Daemon and that Daemon can love her.
And so she wait impatiently on the bed with her bare feet rubbing placidly on the sheets«Do you still have a lot of those?»she whispers not to be heard outside the room and perhaps not to be heard even by Daemon himself,because she knows how this war is important and how easy he is to piss off.
«Yes.»Daemon answer was short and he didn’t moved a inch from his previous position.
Y/n didn’t responded.She barely snorts and drops her head on the pillow.Her mental balance is quickly faltering.After that day all she wants is Daemon,she wants to forget,she wants sex and to hold him.
She wants to tell him all those things that can only be said in bed.Where she could pretend to be princess,the only woman in his life,the only one that he has ever touched and wanted like this.
«I'm almost done.»Daemon then adds without saying anything else.
But Y/n smiles.She knows that message.Daemon does this when he realizes that he has been too rude,too unpleasant or cold especially after a battle.
«Alright.»Y/n lifts her back from the mattress and leans with her forehead against his.
It's hot.She breathes his perfume and goes straight into her veins and it's like wood on the fire:she can't do it and grabs him by the jaw and makes his head turn to the side,she kisses him with her tongue,puts it in his mouth as much as she can and then bites his lip.The breath hiss against her cheek because there is not enough room for the air to pass through.
Y/n hears him moaning with annoyance but he doesn't move.And the balance is lost in that fire of souls and bodies that is being consumed.
He puts a hand in her hair and kisses her again.He wants it,he wants it more than anything,more than revenge,more than blood.Daemon indulges her because after all he needs it too,he needed the taste of skin,the smell of her body,that balance was broken,broken like them.
Then he turns around and puts a hand around her neck and pushes her forcefully against the mattress.That's enough to start to make her feel the familiar warmth between her legs.
Daemon notices it right away.He knows she likes it,he knows it excites her.He blocks the air in her throat and sticks his index finger in her mouth.
«Do you want me to fuck you,little girl?»his voice is far more gentle than the one he use to commands armies,but still it made her shiver«Is that what you want?»he could still sound so authoritative.
«Yes.»Y/n mutters with his finger in her mouth and the air that lacks in her lungs.
«I told you that I’m almost done.»he reminded her,referring to all the papers that were now on the cold floor.
Y/m mumbles something similar to a «I’m sorry.»her eyes are shiny.She’s red in the face and looks so desperate.
Daemon loosens his grip«Never mind,you made me want it too.»he said.
He kisses her without taking his hand off her neck,he kisses her vigorously,his tongue that caresses hers and in that moment she knows that Daemon has also lost control,the balance.
Y/n stretches her hand on his dressed erection and squeezes it,feels it hard,feels it warm and tense and this makes her arch her hips while they still kiss.
He once told her that dragons prefer heat and right now she feels like she's in a hot bath:her body is on fire.Daemon is able to do that to her,she doesn't understand it,she doesn't control it.She can't.
Y/n bites his lip and slowly unbuttons his shirt, discovers his chest like the first time and finds it – like every time – beautiful.
Even after a battle he always looks so clean,in this he reminds her of her mother.But Daemon more, he’s cleaner,more beautiful,more like fire and balance at the same time.He’s is the greatest contradiction of her life;yet,her greatest certainty.
Daemon hikes the material of her nightgown up her soft legs,keeping them open with his beautiful and muscular thighs.Trapping her in his spider web of pleasure and warmth.
Before Daemon,Y/n had never been interested in sex,or men.To anything that wasn't living another day on the island.Then he came looking for her,first as a soldier then as a man.
And he killed and at the same time gave birth to a part of her.By now her life was divided into before and after of Daemon.
He let the nightgown slide over her rib cage,his fingers feels like fire as they trace a path on her pure skin leaving goosebumps all over it.Her breast,her perky little nipples,the way her chest rise and fall so fast was enough to drive him crazy.He takes the nightgown off and leaves it at the foot of the bed with the grace that distinguishes him.
He leaves her neck flushed just to place a messy kiss on her puffy and rosy lips«It's really too easy to get you excited,little girl.» he murmurs,perhaps more to himself than to her.
However,Y/n is not embarrassed because she sees him in the same state:then with a tacit look she asks him for permission to undress him and finishes untiening his shirt, in a hurry as only she can do,then she moves on to his belt and pants.
He feels her skin on fire when his naked body matches with her own,when his erection and her wet flower meet and dance like their tongues.There is something poetic in that dirty dance,because everyone knows they shouldn't do it,but it's the only thing that makes it stable in that life devoid of any meaning,devoid of balance and certainties.
Daemon and his body,Daemon and his perfume,Daemon and his mouthpiece.Daemon and his tongue digging into her mouth as if to want to suck even the last particle of oxygen into her lungs.Daemon and that rude and delicate way of doing things at the same time that sends him into ecstasy when he fights and fucks her.
He takes his time preparing her,caressing and tasting the sweet wet flower in between her legs.The purest ambrosia gifted by the gods,the most delicious sounds of pleasure.She feels his hot erection pressing against her little entrance,ready to ravish her.
Y/n tries to relax just like he taught her but her heart is stally and suddenly she feels like she is in a battle:she clings to Daemon hair,loses her balance on her elbows and leaves herself totally to him.
Daemon enters her with a blow drier than his hip,he mutters something in her mouth,as he bites her lips red as blood and she scratches his back.There is no need for words:he begins to push,and she feels her flesh give way,widen for him and make room for him,squeeze him in that welcoming way that vaguely reminds Daemon of home.
He pushes and Y/n tries to breathe as best as he can,she looks for oxygen that is not there,touches him on his back and spreads her legs more:she wants it more,more,more.She doesn't even have the strength to call his name for how strong the thrusts are and he touches that point so sweet and secret inside of her that makes her tremble.The one she,sometimes,looked for on her own but never found.Daemon knows how to touch it,he knows how to loosen her every uncovered nerve.
He knows how to make her lose her balance and then find her in that bath of sweat and moods,saliva and scratches.
The bed squeaches and no one cares,not even that anyone can hear them at that moment because,when they are together there is nothing else.The sheets are a disaster under their bodies, they are the perfect synthesis of what is going on in that bed.
Y/n welcomes the thrusts of Daemon,welcomes the moans with her mouth,squeezes him between his thighs and does not let him go but indulges him in that fluid and dancing movement.
The hands that squeeze her neck,then her arms and then her ass.
And then the orgasm comes like a thread that suddenly breaks;like a rubber band that breaks and bounces into the body and mind.He hits her deeply and can't help but indulge in those sensations.To that sea that invests her at the same time while Daemon comes inside her but she no longer understands anything.
Y/n feel like she is on a cloud,she feel like she is flying.The sweat-soaked back doesn't touch the bed but the sky.
And all of a sudden everything becomes calms and quiet.
Daemon kisses her shoulders as if to console her because he knows her thoughts,he knows his little girl.He cautiously gets out of her and moves to her side.And the balance in silence returns,as the beats of their heart slow down.
Because after all,life was a game of balance,and that was the perfect balance for them.
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woodland-gremlin · 4 months
Text
Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 5
First Previously AU Summary
“What do you mean by the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Constantine asked, hoping against all hope that it wasn’t what it sounded like. Because if it was it was likely they would be dealing with something worse than Trigon.
“The Anti-Ecto Acts declared all beings that produce or require ectoplasm as non-sentient and unfeeling imprints that are to be handed over to the government for experimentation and extermination. Every being in the Infinite Realms is made of ectoplasm, it is what carbon is like for us,” Supernova said.
“Those acts made the persecution and mass genocide of their people legal and their very existence illegal. The only reason they didn’t accept those Acts as a declaration of war for the whole planet or dimension is the innocent people. After all they were ruled by a tyrant for multiple millennias, they understood that the acts of one being or group doesn’t define the whole. But that doesn’t change the fact that they would protect their people if provoked. They already had a war with the organization that created those laws. If we told you about them you could have provoked them in condemning this whole planet. After all without the League we would be open to other invaders,” Red Robin finished.
Batman scowled. Everyone else looked horrified, especially the JLD. Zantenna’s magic glitched causing random things to levitate around her. Captain Marvel zoned out, trying to process all the new and terrifying information, while unknowingly to everyone else arguing with the Gods in his head. Raven looked even worse than when she learned that her Father would try to use her as a portal to invade Earth. And Constantine? Well, he looked like he was about to become the newest Halfa.
“You’re telling me that the U.S. government basically declared war against the Infinite Realms?! The in-between of the multiverse? The place that houses beings more powerful than gods? And yet we’re still somehow alive?” Constantine screeched.
Batman cut in, “If what you say is true and they are as dangerous as Constantine says it only means that you should have told us. It is our job to deal with issues like that.”
“Un-un,” Constantine grunts, “Did you not hear anything they said, Batsy?! We are lucky! Lucky, you hear me! It is a stinking miracle that the Realms didn’t just destroy our dimension and be done with it. Pariah Dark has done it for less.”
“Even so-”
“‘Even’ nothing. Now we are going to drop this, summon the new King, beg them for forgiveness and for them to deal with Trigon, and fix those disastrous laws!” Constantine declared while pulling out a book with a strange aura out of his coat pocket.
To be continued . . .
Next
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thechekhov · 2 years
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Hey.
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please vote.
In ANY country, but specifically if you live in the US, are of age, and are capable of it in any shape or form. Even though it’s not presidential elections. Even though you might think it won’t matter. 
Please vote. 
I understand it’s not easy all the time. I realize that saying ‘your workplace is legally required to let you go vote’ doesn’t do squat if your boss doesn’t care about the law. I am familiar with how difficult it is to have to slog through campaigns full of catchy, nice-looking words that, upon closer inspection, reveal a much more sinister and selfish political goal. 
I was able to vote by mail in my state - by ordering an absentee ballot online, having it sent to me, filling it out, and sending it in by mail again. It was great because I had the time to sit with it and read through all the options presented before me. 
There are MANY states which require NO-EXCUSE-NEEDED absentee voting. (As in, they’ll simply send you a ballot in the mail if you ask.)
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Please, if you find it difficult to vote in person on the day of, check and see if it’s possible for you to vote by mail. In many cases, your state site may have an easy online application for you to order your ballot and receive it as quick as 2-4 days. 
Many states also allow you to vote early, on a day that you actually have off!
https://www.vote.org/early-voting-calendar/
And as for the ballot itself - tons of websites now offer you on-demand lists of people on your ballot, with explanations on their states and what they’re about - and the only thing you need is your zipcode! I typically use the one my state provides, but you can also get them for basically anywhere by going to this website:
www.vote411.org
And look...
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I know it isn’t a walk in the park, and I know politicians disappoint many of us, and it’s A) difficult to trust them and B) difficult to know you’re voting for a person who will make good choices. But we live in an age of information where we can look up what people’s stances are, what they’ve done in the past, and this is MUCH EASIER than it once was!
Don’t let people persuade you that voting does nothing! Look at Brazil!
 People who tell you that voting is useless are trying to stop you from voting - BECAUSE THEY, THEMSELVES, ARE OFTEN VOTING.
I come from an actual country where our votes haven’t meant SHIT for 20 years in a row. This shit built up slow and steady - boiling the frog, as it were. The US is far from perfect. But it’s far from pointless to vote, and KEEP voting. 
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parvulous-writings · 15 days
Note
Could I request dating headcanons for Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, and poly Ghoap with gn s/o please? - Fluff anon
Warnings: Oh boy... This be sweet...
Notes: Did I get carried away? Absolutely. I love my boys!! Thank you, Fluff, for indulging me!!
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𝔖𝔦𝔪𝔬𝔫 ℜ𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔶
Simon likes to keep his civilian life very firmly separate from his work-life. You know that he's fairly high up in the military, that he often has to be very brutal, and the names of his closest companions. This took years to get out of him, though, and he flat out refuses to tell you anything else, or expand on the information you've already pried from him. "You don't need t'know any of that, love... Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, 'kay?" And that's that. You don't know about 'Ghost', and he'd very much like to keep it that way. He wants to stay your Simon, the sweet, if not awkward, young man you fell for years ago.
He's gone a lot - active service unfortunately demands it. He sends messages when he can, but rarely calls when he's away - you assume it's because he either doesn't want to risk, or can't risk, you overhearing anything in the background. He tries his best to make it up to you when he's on leave, though. Little date nights here and there, spending quality time together - he'll even acquiesce and let you watch your favourite schlocky movies or tv shows, no matter how much he normally pretends to hate them. In truth, they do hold a special place in his heart. They remind him of you, and for that, he'll always appreciate them, in a strange way. Sometimes he'll play half an episode on his phone, when he's away and has a chance - just to keep that piece of you with him.
Physical affection has two facets, with Simon. The public, and the private. In public, he stays almost unnervingly close to you, especially in crowds, but doesn't usually hold your hand or even touch you. Unless he needs to pull you away from something for your own safety, he isn't really a massive fan with expressing his love through public displays of affection; but he doesn't mind if you hug his arm whilst walking, or want to lean into him whilst sitting in a restaurant booth. In private, he isn't quite 'all over you', but he is very close. He doesn't like being in a different room to you most of the time, and if you're in the living room, you're not just going to be sitting around - he will be cuddling you, in some way. Whether he's perched you on his lap, or pulled you into his side - or even, on the rare occasion, when he lets you be the bigger spoon.
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𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝒸𝒯𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒽
Johnny does talk a little bit about his time with the task force - unless, of course, he is legally required to not disclose some information (which is a fair amount, but he tries to find workarounds if something is genuinely bothering him). You know his friendships with Simon, Kyle, and Price are all strong - forged in the fires of conflict, and durable enough to withstand it all and more. You know that Price acts a bit like a father, Kyle is the 'funny guy' ("'Sides me, o'course, hen,"), and Simon is Johnny's stoic lieutenant, who he admires, respects, and holds very dearly. Though Johnny has never said the words exactly, you get the impression that Simon is something of a best friend figure to the Scot. Johnny doesn't go in depth or in detail about his missions, he only really speaks about it if there's something that's been bothering him.
He's gone often, but he keeps in contact as much as he can; calls, texts, and video calls whenever he gets the chance. He's often in the rec room when you're on call, and you can hear a faint 'hello' from Gaz whenever he catches Soap on the phone. When he's at home, his favourite thing to do is stay at home with you, and watch movies. Particularly old, or schlocky ones. Sharknado, Attack of the Lederhosen Zombies, and all other manner of B, or even C-rated movies come out. They're usually meant to be horror, but they're often so tacky they don't come across as it. Throw in that night's take out of choice, and boom! Johnny's perfect date night with you.
His main love language is physical touch, so public displays of affection with Johnny are a must, whether it's hand-holding, an arm around your shoulders, or him playfully putting you in a headlock when you're out and about with your friends. The headlock also appears in your private life as well - it's his own, special, silent 'I love you'. It's uniquely him, too. That playful, rough edge that he has, put into his affection. He likes to fall asleep on you a lot, too. Snuggling in bed, or on the sofa, draped over you like a muscled blanket. Something about being close to you soothes his soul, and allows him to sleep with little issue.
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Simon and Johnny
There's a small clash with how Simon and Johnny communicate whilst away from you, but they manage to find a slight compromise. Johnny will call you, and drag Simon into view or onto the line if he gets too close to the Scot whilst he's talking to you. He isn't begrudging when he talks to you, but he's very aware of what sounds or sights can be picked up by the phone. He takes privacy and secrecy very seriously, does Simon.
When they're home, you always have practically glued to your hip, no matter the time of day - except the first day home. That first day and night they spend in the guest room together, adjusting themselves back into civilian life. It was a ritual that was started by Simon, that he almost insisted Soap follow with; and the Scot didn't argue. After their day of unwinding, one of them is with you always. Johnny trails after you in the kitchen, or when you're doing chores, and Simon will do the same when you're out and about, getting the weekly shop. It's endearing, in it's own way.
When it comes to night time, and sleeping arrangements, the first couple of nights after they integrate are the best, in your opinion. They both cling to you, one on each side, nuzzling their faces into your arm, or your stomach - or your back, if you're spooning one of them. Sometimes Simon will haul you to sleep on his chest in the middle of the night, and Johnny drapes his arm over the both of you, snuggling into Simon's bulky arm, already half asleep. Other times, Johnny will hug you right up against his front, as Simon hugs him from behind. Occasionally Si will mix things up, and hug you from the front, his large arms reaching over you to grab at the small of Johnny's back, and sometimes his rear.
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apomaro-mellow · 1 year
Text
Wrong Number 2
Someone said they liked when authors put their super-specific jobs in fics so I hope ya like Steve havin a (kinda romanticized) past job of mine.
For the first time in his life, Steve felt like the stereotypical young person who was always glued to his phone. Every time it made a noise or vibrated, his arm shot out like lightning, hoping with every fiber of his being that it was the mystery number.
It had been about five days since he'd sent that first message and he'd been worried about their conversations being stale. But that wasn't an issue. The only times their talks lulled was when they went to bed.
And even that was after texting late into the night. Steve would watch the clock go from 9 to 10 and promise to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. And then it would be midnight and what was a few minutes after that? Then he'd look up and it would be 2 in the morning.
Texting this guy had become the highlight of Steve's days. To the point where he didn't even realize Friday had come until one of his students mentioned it.
Then, purely out of habit, he asked: "Any weekend plans?"
"I've got a soccer game", Zach answered.
"My parents are having date night", Belinda said.
And normally Steve himself would be thinking about going out and finding someone for the night. But the idea hadn't come to him for once. He knew why, but he didn't fully process it until he got home to Robin, who was in the middle of cooking breakfast for dinner it seemed.
Steve was in the middle of replying to a text sent during lunch.
(12:15) I just realized you know about my off the wall job (12:17) But I have no idea what your 9 to 5 is (12:18) Your legally required to tell me if ur famous (12:18) Not bc im a clout chaser (12:19) But bc I might not have a clue who you are
[4:13] Not famous. Don't worry. I'm a teacher.
(4:15) As a former student I apologize
Robin opened the cabinet, looking for pancake mix. “Are you and that girl still texting?”
“Me and the who?”, Steve looked up from his phone.
“That girl? I assume you're finally setting up a date for this weekend?"
"She-" Steve racked his brain for a good excuse. But it was hard to do when the person who knew him the most was staring right at him.
"Whatever flaws of hers you're about to make up, I'm gonna call bullshit because your phone hasn't stopped pinging for days." She started mixing the pancake batter.
Steve looked down at the words on his screen. The one flaw of this guy was that they couldn't meet in person. But maybe it was time to close the distance just a bit.
"She's shy. Might just text a bit more before she's ready."
[4:19] No need for sorries. All my kids are great. But that's probably because I teach their favorite class.
(4:21) Oooh their favorite? (4:21) It's gotta be something like art rite? (4:22) Or are you being a smart ass cuz you teach like calculus or something?
[4:23] I teach cooking 😛
(4:23) Oh shit. (4:24) You're actually the favorite
[4:25] Toldja. Hey quick question and then possibly many more questions.
(4:26) Go ooooon
[4:27] How would you feel about spending the night playing 20 questions? Like are you free tonight?
Eddie bit his lip as he looked at Steve's words. He had picked his shifts this weekend to make sure he had plenty of time to talk to Steve. Which meant he was in fact free tonight. He replied as such and Steve said he wanted a little time to take a shower and then he'd be ready.
And because he was a little shit, Eddie took advantage of him being away from his phone.
(4:35) Since you're in the shower, I'm taking the first question. Boxers or briefs?
[4:54] Cheater. And I prefer boxer briefs. My turn?
(4:55) Go for it
Eddie was curled up on his couch, tv low and in the background as he waited for Steve's question.
[4:55] What's your name?
(4:56) THATS your first question? (4:56) Wait we've been texting for days haven't you saved my number? (4:57) What do you have me as?
Steve bit his lip, wishing he could lie to this guy, but he couldn’t. Instead he sent a screenshot of his phone.
(4:59) Misty? That’s the name of the chick?
[5:00] Yeah. But I guess I should put your actual name now, right?
It was a gamble. But this guy already knew Steve’s name. And by this point they’d been texting for nearly a week. He just wanted to know his name. He pushed back the part of himself that said he needed to know.
(5:00) It's Eddie.
Eddie. The guy he'd been talking to was named Eddie. Eddie with the long curly hair and the chunky rings who threw axes for a living. He was a far cry from the soft girls he usually dated. Or the preppy guys he usually dated.
(5:02) Favorite bug?
The question threw Steve for a moment but he decided to humor him.
[5:04] Bees 🐝I like how fuzzy they are. And I like honey. [5:05] What rings do you have?
A couple minutes later, Eddie replied with an image. It was taken from above and showed his hands lying flat on a coffee table. Steve zoomed to make out the details of each ring. He was also able to see a watch and a couple of wristbands on him.
[5:08] How did you take that picture? With your mouth? 🦭
(5:09) Did you did you just compare me to a seal???
[5:09] What other animal catches things in their mouths?
'I can be an animal with my mouth'. Thankfully, Eddie's fingers weren't as fast as his brain and he didn't send that to Steve. Eddie had in fact put his phone in his mouth the take the picture, having a real 'no thoughts, head empty moment' when Steve asked about his rings.
Steve was letting his own mind wander as he gazed at the picture. Eddie's hands were...his hands were...well they were-
(5:10) Favorite youtuber?
The adoration of Eddie's hands were interrupted by Eddie himself as their question and answers continued. The picture continued as well. Steve sent pics of his favorite pair of shoes, his hair products, and of his neck when Eddie said he didn't believe he had all these moles.
Eddie had sent pictures of one arm, covered in tats, his acoustic guitar, and a super worn copy of Peter Pan.
The hour was growing late and both of them were feeling more bold but at the same time hesitant because it felt like they were close to crossing a line.
Needing an outside opinion, Eddie consulted with The Council (the discord server with his band mates) about whether or not he should shoot his shot. Gareth told him to go for it, what harm could it do? Grant said to do it because it could potentially be the funniest catfishing story. Jeff agreed that he should, if only because their guitarist getting murdered would be a great back story.
With their unanimous approval, Eddie decided to start actively flirting with Steve.
(8:37) Soooooo ya like jazz?
[8:38] I do actually. I really love the piano.
Okay, that one was just practice. Be smooth. Be suave. None of that was in Eddie's wheelhouse but thankfully nothing he said turned Steve away. He always seemed just as eager to reply back.
(9:10) What's your oldest piece of clothing?
Eddie was thinking of his own oldest article a t-shirt that had started out overgrown on his tiny eight year old body but he'd grown into and kept over the years. It was super faded but filled with the memory of the first time he spent more than a couple of days with his uncle.
[9:12] I'd show you, but I'm wearing them right now.
Steve had closed his bedroom door before sending the text. There wasn't anything scandalous but it seemed like it could very quickly veer into that territory. All Eddie had to do was ask. If he wanted to see them, Steve would show it.
'I would like to see it.'
(9:12) I would like to see it
Eddie knew it could be anything. Maybe a holey sock. Or maybe he also had a super faded t-shirt with deep sewn-in memories as well. Maybe he was wearing a class ring?
[9:14] image.jpeg
Eddie was treated (and goddamn what a treat it was) to Steve Harrington's bottom half, barely covered in shorts with a school's logo on them. Thick thighs covered in hair. And a bulge that was there. It was very there. Eddie couldn't overstate how there it was.
He palmed his own crotch before remembering he was looking at a guy's junk and about to jerk off to it in his living room. And he had yet to answer. What was the most respectful way to say 'humina humina humina-wolf whistle-awooga'?
(9:16) Are you trying to kill me Steve?
[9:17] Do you like it?
'Awooga.'
(9:18) ❤️‍🔥 🔥 🥵
Eddie tried to think of any other way to tell Steve how hot he made him but it felt like typing words just wasn't enough.
(9:19) Can I do something insane? (9:20) And feel free to ignore me if it's too much
Steve was lying in his bed, phone of his charger now. Nothing Eddie could do would be too much. He could knock on his door and he would let him in.
[9:21] Go ahead
A second after he sent that, Steve's phone started to ring. It was Eddie. He stared for about five seconds before picking up.
"Hey."
"Hey."
If possible, Steve melted more into his bed. Eddie's voice...he didn't know what he expected but it wasn't that. He said one word and Steve wanted to wrap himself in it.
"That was pretty naughty of you, sending me that pic. I could show up to your school."
"You'd be a few years too late. These are my oldest shorts, remember?"
"Tiniest shorts maybe."
Steve laughed and Eddie was on cloud nine. He was so lost in bliss, he miscalculated and fell off the couch.
"What was that?"
"I uh, I fell. Off my couch."
"Did you fall hard?"
Eddie beamed as he got up and turned off the tv. Now that he had his voice, all he wanted to hear was the man on the other line.
"Oh super hard."
Steve let out a sound from the back of his throat and he wondered if Eddie had heard it. It was honestly amazing how the smallest things got him going. Or maybe he was just that into Eddie.
"You still there Steve?"
....."Yeah. I'm still here."
Part 4
Tag Team (closed)
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi @phantomcat94 @ladylokilaufeyson5 @dude-as-in-i-love-u @micheledawn1975 @magpiemuseum @novelnovella @marklee-blackmore @stevesbipanic @martinskis-lydias @beckkthewreck @gay-little-bitch @everywherenothere @emma-elsa-0000 @rlpersephone3259 @songbird-garden @trucoop @omgshesinsane @fantrash @7-starboi @soulminyg @larawrmonster @blackpanzy @offical-potato @aellafreya @mightbeasleep @lorelei724 @moomkin77
If you were tagged but it didn't show up in your notifications, lemme know and I'll do that thing where I tag you in a reblog instead. I know tumblr can't be trusted to function XD
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miserycanary · 4 months
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MISSION: LOVE KILL  ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]
pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU. 
pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on
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The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it. 
‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’
It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs. 
Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that. 
When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that! 
“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.” 
It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.
Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it. 
“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems. 
If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.
“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen, jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.
With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.
Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway. 
Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist is open!! @hotvinimon
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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ayaaamuhanna · 2 months
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Stop ⚠️🤚🏼
Hey everyone ….
I’m aya muhanna i have friend that i know he told me about thiss app andd he told me that i’ll find people here to support me
And i had a Fundraising campaign and its going so bad and no one donate us
Am sharing on social media like instagram and tiktok but also its not working with me
And let me tell u my story :-
I just got 106€ and all i need 35000€
U can also add me on social media if u want thats my account :- aya._muhanna23
Tik tok: muhanna_family
And let me tell u my story…
I'm Aya Abdel Nasser Muhana, a 21-year-old student, and my life has been shattered by the October 2023 war. Our home was completely destroyed, leaving us with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Our 5500 square meter agricultural land was bulldozed. The legal accounting office owend by my father and brother is destroyed. The vital source of our livelihood.
The cornerstone of our income, was demolished. We lost everything—our home, our income, and my chance at education. I missed two crucial years of university—one spent accompanying my father for his cancer treatment in Egypt and Germany, and the other lost to the relentless conflict in Gaza.
The brutality of the war forced us to flee repeatedly, each time with nothing but our lives. We moved from Al-Maghazi Camp to Deir Al-Balah Camp, Rafah, and finally Alnusairat camp seeking safety but finding none.
Befor two years After discovering my father's diagnosis, we faced many struggles. To begin the treatment journey, we spent most of my father's savings, only to be shocked by my mother's diagnosis when my father was abroad. My sister and I were left as the only support for my mother, as my only brother was with my father. Thankfully, my mother did not suffer much from the disease and left us early, perhaps to spare us from worrying too much about her. However, her absence has left a big hole in our hearts. There are many things I still wanted to do with her, but she chose to leave us early. At that time, my sister and I were united, and I cannot bear the thought of losing my father if he does not receive suitable treatment.
https://gofund.me/5fd8c4ef
Now my father is battling his disease, requiring advanced medical care that is impossible to find here. He needs to leave Gaza urgently for treatment, as his doctor has advised.
Our family, consisting of my father, my brother & his family, my sister, and me, is in desperate straits. We have no income and my father, a retired employee, hasn't received his pension more than eight months. We are being crushed by the weight of our circumstances, and we are in dire need of your help. We need assistance to secure medical treatment for my father, cover our living expenses, and enable me to continue my university education in addition to study costs of my nephews. This is our plea for survival, for a chance to rebuild our lives and our future. From the depths of my heart, I thank everyone who can extend a helping hand to us.
The cost of evacuating Aya. and her family, is $30,000 (Hala Company charges $5,000 an adult and $2,500 a child to put us on the exit list and help us to evacuate from Gaza).
To cover GFM transaction fees (2.9% + $0.30 deducted per donation)
For shelter, food, supplies, treatment, etc. upon arrival in Egypt, We need $15,000.
Thanks in advance for all support you give to us!
Our lovely home which we've already lost:-
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And this is the Fundraising campaign A donation of more than $5 will be worth more👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼
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aachria · 5 months
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The long awaited (maybe? Idk how many of you were waiting for this) SSSBMTY College AU!
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Majors in bold
Headcanons in regular text
Notes about the art indented in orange
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Luffy — Undeclared
Was forced into school by his gramps. (The university dean. The fucking dorm building all the Strawhats but Jimbei live in is named after him.)(it was this or join the navy.) Takes the most random classes he can. Some of them are advanced and require perquisites and no one knows how he keeps getting into them. Wears shorts and sandals in winter & will run any errand or do any odd job for food. He has a very nice bike he got for free from a garage sale that Franky fixed up. There's a campus wide bet on when and what he'll choose as his major. His bucket hat was a gift from Shanks, the universities World Economics prof. Has a million friendship bracelets on his ankles because Ed makes them when they're stressed. Never has a bag on him. Fights Canadian geese on the way to class, like a fucking maniac. Protected species who?
When I tell you that this drawing of Luffy is the first time I've ever drawn actual feet with toes that don't look fucking ridiculous I need to cheer for me. Why is he a different flavour of boy every time I draw him please. His ass isn't rubber in this universe, of course he's scuffed to shit. Chopper ran out of Spiderman bandaids, sorry bud. Advocate for the Single Piercing Luffy™ agenda, he went and got it done with Ed when they got their helix.
Ed — English major Psychology minor
Took History of Piracy for easy grades & a story idea. Known around campus as that asshole who'll tell you exactly which of your roommates ate your leftovers for $5. Is roommates with Luffy because of a system mix-up when they got distributed. Always wears a Burberry trench coat Nami thrifted for $3 and gave them as a bday gift. Carries everything in a ratty falling apart messenger bag. Them and Luffy filled out marriage papers on a dare, Zoro (who got legally ordained on a dare minutes before) oversaw that, Zoro and Ed filed the papers when they were drunk. So Ed and Luffy are legally married. And they don't even notice until tax season and Jonah, Ed's accounting friend, asks about it.
I need you to ignore the inconsistence with the hands in these ok? Some of them get very nice and normal hands, and others get weird shaped blobs. Sorry Ed, them's the breaks kid.
Zoro — Health and Fitness major Mathematics minor
Literally no one knows why he has a Mathematics minor, least of all him. P sure he walked into the wrong class on the first day and just stuck with it. The most terrifying captain of the kendo team the university has ever had. He's won more championships and trophies in his tenure than the school has in its history, the revenue he brings in from sponsorships and such make them turn a blind eye to his... eccentricities (three sword style. Nobody has stopped him yet, anyone who says it's illegal gets penalized). Has had campus security called on him so often from being creepy when walking home from the gym in the dark there's a poster of him in the security office that says 'NOT ACTUALLY A THREAT. JUST WEIRD AND WALKS WITH PURPOSE.'
Zoro's sword patch on his jacket was designed by Usopp, embroidered by Luffy for a class (shittily) and fixed up and sewn on by Ed. Those docs have seen war. He has put them through hell. He has walked through a fucking river with those things, he superglues them back together every time they break. Franky had to strongarm him into getting the soles professionally replaced.
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Nami — Meteorology major Finance minor
All of her clothes are thrifted designer things. Regularly terrorizes Value Village employees. Anything she has that isn't thrifted she gets from the many estate sales she plagues, snatching grandma's entire Chanel collection and all her nicest jewelry. She has absolutely everything anyone could ever need in her purse. Tampons and pads? She gotchu. Extra pens? It'll cost you, but yeah. A curling iron? Sure, why the hell not. She runs the betting pool on Luffy's major with Ed. She also writes a gossip column for the school newspaper and has a podcast she uploads a new episode to every few months. Shows up to every class looking like a supermodel no matter the time. 7am? Perfect. 10pm? Fabulous. Your go-to if you get locked out of your dorm. Has a moped but barely uses it.
Nami's bag is a large Prada Gallaria Saffiano bag, which I painstaking drew to accuracy down to the colour even though it still looks ever so slightly different, because Nami is a big purse girl. The compass rose necklace was a going away gift from Nojiko when she left for uni. I think her haircut is so cute I love her sm. Don't pay any mind to how fucking disheveled half of their lineart looks next to her pls.
Usopp — Graphic Design major
Not a member of the archery club, but shows up enough he’s in all the team photos. Was originally the designated driver, had a pretty little mini van they called the Merry, had one of those fucking fuzzy dice hanging mirror things in the shape of a sheep’s head. Got in a bad car accident and she got totaled by some jackass in a red Honda Civic. Dating Kaya, who’s a nursing student. They barely see each other because she’s so fucking busy and half the students are convinced the girlfriend Usopp is always talking about and calling is fake. The Strawhats have a dnd campaign that they run every other week, Usopp DM's. On weekends he works at an axe throwing range and holds the record for most bullseyes in a row. They have his picture mounted on the wall.
Usopp's necklace is the old key to the Merry, and he engraved his belt buckle for a project. I cursed his ass with the giant fuck off portfolio bag because those things are so big and unwieldy. The people in his program's studio never clean their paint up properly, that's why he's covered in it. Advocate for the Usopp With Gages™ agenda. God he is such a cutie patootie.
Sanji — Business degree
Literally grew up working in a restaurant, he’s only going to school to get the degree so he can open his own and also because Zeff threated to castrate him if he didn't get a higher education. Cooks basically every single meal for the dorm, since it’s just the Strawhats (it's a new (old it's old and was refurbished. Everyone assumed it was haunted.) building that they just dedicated to Garp. Has no other residents yet). Him and Zoro fight so much in their shared room half the time he ends up kicking him out and making him sleep in the community room lmao. He just shows up in half the culinary classes because he hates the business ones so much, the one time someone tried to tell him to leave he cussed them out for a full ten minutes while gesticulating wildly with a knife in hand. They never tried that again. Saw one of the profs berate a young lady for wearing a dress shirt to class because it’s impractical and proceeded to take that personally. Yeah he wears three piece suits to all his classes, he could still kick you ass in ‘em. Shut up. Volunteers to show around foreign exchange students because he can speak at least 4 foreign languages fluently. Is it to woo pretty French girls with his charm? Wouldn't you like to know.
I could not draw Sanji in a decent pose for the life of me, his ass was just not having it. He's got one of them really nice leather messenger bags with the lined pockets and filigree, he's very proud of it.
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Chopper — PreMed
One of the few Strawhats who regularly sees Usopp’s reclusive girlfriend, and is very confused as to why people think she isn’t real. Still a literal child (is 15 still a child? Yeah that's like barely a teenager), a goddamn prodigy and got in with an incredibly good recommendation from the best doctor in the country, who just so happens to be his adoptive mother. He’s literally too cute for anyone to question that, plus he’s the sharpest tack in the damn class. He knocked his front tooth out ages ago (it was an adult tooth) but he's too fucking busy to get an appointment to get it fixed, just adds another layer to his babyface. Nice girls keep asking him if he's here to go see his parents or older siblings, he's endlessly infuriated by it and Sanji is endlessly jealous. Saved Ed from choking to death in a Domino's parking lot the first time they met, he dropped his pizza doing it so they bought him another. The rest is history. Does not feel cold, wears chunky boots year round. Got them reflective ass eyes like a deer, no one has ever taken a good picture of this child. He looks fucking possessed in his school ID.
TELL ME WHY I ALMOST FORGOT TO DRAW CHOPPER. I finished drawing Franky and was like "gee, only Brook and Jimbei to go! Good for me," and then I had to pause while looking as the picture of the group I was semi-referencing for heights n shit and was like "OH FUCK THE CHILD—" He's so cute tho. He's giving lil baby Goro Akechi. The argyle sweater vest and Timbs were a must, so was his hockey boy haircut. Matching backpack and tie for the win. Oh and the freckles, Chopper with freckles is everything to me.
Robin — Has a million hyper specific degrees. Currently earning her third doctorate.
Very mysterious and sexy. Mature student who occasionally gives lectures in the archeology program when she has free time. Owns a motorcycle but barely rides it. How is she not in debt after so much schooling? Don't fucking ask if you want to live. Is that why she lives in the dorm building? Do. Not. Ask. She and Luffy attend the same Theology class, no one knows how Luffy is passing with such good grades, but Robin is adamant that he doesn't take notes or borrow hers, and takes to having the same scores as him with grace. Child actor on one of those show like Barney (but not Barney dear lord) or Reading Rainbow and people only knew her as 'that kid with the creepy fuckin stare.' She was a meme a few years back, they called her the devil child. Every time someone asks her about it she just says she has no idea what they're talking about while giving them the creepy stare.
Women with Big Bags truther, right here. Robin deserves to be put in a suit. Goddamnit, get that woman in a suit!
Franky — Has a bachelors of Engineering, a bachelors of Architecture, and is earning his (water specific) Architecture degree
Currently the groups designated driver (after the tragic death of the poor Merry) with his supped up SUV, the Sunny. How do all the Strawhats fit inside? The power of love, obviously. That car will NOT fucking move if even one of the seatbelts is undone. Made Ed and Luffy wedding rings after he found out they accidentally got married. (Only after laughing for a half our straight, almost passing out, and laughing again. Then he cried for another hour about how beautiful it was.) He sometimes works as a nude model for life drawing classes on campus. Half of the the Strawhats have, in one way or another, seen him in the buck. Has knee braces from an... incident... with a train when he was younger. Now he volunteers at KidsAbility and has a shift on the campus crisis/suicide hotline. Huge advocate for mental health services at the school. He lives in the dorms for the ✨experience✨. Even worse than Luffy, mf wears booty shorts in the dead of winter. He's constantly dressed like It's laundry day. One of those guys from a famous Vine when he was younger that just gets stopped while he's walking so people can go "TRAMPOLINE VASE GUY??" (Iceberg was recording. I love Iceberg.)
Yes Franky is wearing an I ♥ MILFs shirt, what of it? It was a gift. Drawing him was an exercise in struggling with the pompadour and getting uncomfortably close to drawing Syndrome. Yes, he's cold all the time. No, he will not stop.
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Brook — Literally no one knows. Something music related probably.
Fucker has been around forever, there’s old ass profs who swear to god they went to school with him and he hasn’t aged a day. Regularly plays local bars and cafes. Doesn't own a cellphone, he can literally only operate rotary phones. Computers confuse the shit out of him. Knows nothing about pop culture or recent events, but is up to date on everything in the music industry. He sometimes helps organize the old library archives because he's somehow the only person who understands the system they're organized in. Sometimes he'll just namedrop a famous singer/band he's either played with, done karaoke with, or done background vocals/instrumentals for and you have to guess whether he's telling the truth or just saying shit. There's a campus wide betting pool (run by Nami and Ed, go figure) on whether he's a vampire, ghost, time traveler, or Dorian Gray in disguise. Prepares the questions for 70s night pub trivia. Every time the Strawhats plan a ghost hunt he's busy, then at the end they find out that all the paranormal shit they've been experiencing is just him running his errands. It's happened at least four times.
Is Brook off-putting enough? I was trying to make him off-putting. He swears up and down the neck tattoo was gotten on a dare by Elton John, what, you gonna question a man who looks like he stepped out of Coraline? The skeleton gloves were a gift from Ed.
Jimbei — Has already graduated as a Marine Biology major Political Science minor and is taking both a Gender Studies course and a Peace and Conflict Studies course years later.
Teaches martial arts at a local dojo on weekends and volunteers with the martial arts team on campus. Robin helps him organize protests on weekends. He's good buds with a lot of the faculty and gets invited to after work drinks regularly. He helped establish a program that walks people who stay late at the library to their dorms when he was first a student that's still going strong to this day. Lives off campus and has the Strawhats over for BBQ on long weekends. Literally the only time the Strawhats eat food not made by Sanji. The Grill Master™. Somehow holds some kind of record or high score at every single bar/pub in town. Knows every single mailman and janitor by name. MVP of the catch and release fishing club, helps plan all of their trips.
I struggled with him. I struggled hard. That's a man who went his whole childhood with a horrendous underbite and only got it fixed once he was an adult. Ed gave him the fishing lure earrings out of guilt after he brought them on one of his fishing trips and they fell in and nearly capsized their boat. IT'S A REUSED PLASTIC BAG JIMBEI IS RESPONSIBLE ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT—
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killsaki · 2 years
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old gold ☆ shinichiro won’t give you a chance ‘cause he doesn’t want you to waste your youth.. but he and his friends have never shared the same values.
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takeomi akashi x female!reader x wakasa imaushi
3.7k words. | read on ao3. | minors dni.
cw/tw : spit roast, fingering, unprotected sex/creampie, exhibitionism (heard not seen), pet names, praise, light degradation, slight burn play, age gaps, reader wears a skirt, corruption kink.
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“you look so pretty in an apron.”
shinichiro glares playfully at you out of the corner of his eyes, a smile creeping up on his face before he shakes his head.
“you know how they’ll talk to me if i burn this.”
you put on a fake pout, swinging your feet from where you’re sitting on the countertop watching as he finishes preparing dinner for the swarm of young men that were piled in the living room.
“it’s not like you’ve never burned anything before.”
he sucks his teeth at that, a small smile still lingering on his lips. you know you didn’t have much time left alone with him, that mikey would come around the corner looking for you with that chilling expression like he always does when you’ve snuck off to flirt it up with his big brother.
“and they don’t let me live it down until i cook for them agai—“
“shinichiro, let’s get married.” you cut him off and he just laughs. it’s like a broken record the way he brushes you off, treating you as if you have some school kid crush on him. like you’re not someone of legal drinking age with a fully developed brain. “i’m not a little girl.”
“i know you’re not.” he sighs through his nose, eyes leaving the stove top to look over at you and your feet still against the wooden cabinet door. “but you have so much time left to do whatever it is you want.”
“what i want to do is you.”
“you need to have fun.” he raises his eyebrows, he speaks the words softly but you know the intent behind them is firm. “you’re a beautiful girl, you’ve got the world in your palm. don’t let a relationship while you’re young tie you down.”
you want to open your mouth to answer but before you get the chance, you’re interrupted by the sound of mitsuya swinging himself around the corner. “smiley’s in here talkin’ shit about you not finishing the tournament.”
“i’m coming.” you quickly reply, hoping he’ll go away, but he doesn’t. you hop off the counter to follow after him, chewing at the inside of your cheek in frustration.
“two years.” you hear shinichiro speak from behind you and you spin on your heels. “in two years, if you’ve had all the fun you can handle and still want to get married, i’ll be here.”
there’s a smile on your face before you realize it’s there. “you’ll wait for me?”
“i don’t have anything else to do.” he shrugs and you don’t comment on how he doesn’t come off nearly as cool as he probably thought. “just workin’ at the shop.”
you nod, ignoring the calls of your name from the other room. “and cooking meals for us,” you add on, taking another step towards the living room before calling from behind the wall. “like what you’re burning right now.”
“shit—” you wish you could’ve seen his eyes go wide, and you nearly go back to fawn, until another call of your name rings off the walls and your already thin patience dissolves.
“i’m fucking coming!”
/ / /
“is it even unlocked?” you huff, irritated by the summer night’s heat as you walk in front of your two closest friends towards the all too familiar bike shop.
“should be, he said he’s hanging out with his old friends.” mikey answers.
“you should not be saying that.” draken laughs, and you know it’s meant as a shot at you.
“i only have a thing for shin’, not all old men.” you tsk.
“didn’t you tell inupi that he didn’t meet your age requirement?” draken teases but mikey is far from amused.
“my brother is not old, you—“ the shorter one starts.
“oh, it’s open.” you cut him off as you swing the door and to avoid his annoyed expression you rush inside. “shin’!” you sing, practically skipping through the bike shop looking for the man in question.
“slow down!” draken chides from behind you, muttering something about you knocking something over.
“why do you get to be the first one to say hi? he’s my brother.” mikey adds on and all you can do is laugh as you enter the hallway to the office near the back where the light shines under the door.
“‘cause he likes my face better than yours,” you swing the door open, sticking your tongue out at mikey. “obviously.”
it takes you a full minute to process who it is in front of you when you finally look and once you do, your jaw all but drops. through all the time you’ve spent as mikey’s friend, all the years you’ve followed shinichiro around, you’ve only caught glances of the old higher ups from the first generation of the black dragons. and aren’t they a sight to see.
shinichiro pulls you from whatever thoughts were forming as you eyed the other older men with a greeting.
“mikey messed up something on his bike.” you blurt, biting your lip to keep anything else from leaving your mouth. you point with your thumb towards the boys who have come to stand behind you, only to have the one you named slap it down.
“she did it, not me.”
you scoff at his lie, elbowing him to earn a nudge that sends you stumbling forward.
“i’ll look at it.” shinichiro pushes himself from where he’d been leaning against the desk, looking over to his white haired friend. “benkei, come pull the garage open?”
you watch him cross the room with hearts in your eyes, leaning into the door so your shoulder is pressed flat against it. you catch sight of his silver chain glinting in the low light, his black shirt only making it more prominent. you start to back out of his way alongside mikey, but the blonde doesn’t allow you to pass the door frame.
“you’re not gonna talk about how hot my brother is the whole time,” he pushes you back in the room, turning away and telling you from down the hall to, ‘go sit down.’
“my friends don’t bite.” shin’ smiles a promise and it comforts you slightly, especially when you catch his scent as he passes by—but not enough to turn around and face them. not until the door closes in your face and you can feel the burn of stares on your back.
“we really don’t bite,” is spoken from the couch following the sound of a lighter flickering.
“okay,” is all you manage back, awkwardly. you avoid looking at them in favor of staring at the spot where shinichiro had been leaning as you approach it.
“you shin’s girl?” makes you giggle as you hop up on the cold wood, thankful for the contrast to the warmth of your skin. but you still bite your lips, looking up at them as you debate how to reply.
maybe the whole first generation of black dragons were attractive, you think. surely draken couldn’t have been right about you just having a thing for older men. your eyes drag from the long-haired man with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen to the more rugged one with a unique dye job of his own. you surely knew their names… somewhere in your mind.
“nah,” is what you settle on, shrugging. “not yet.”
the longer haired one says your name like something about your response made something click for him. “he said somethin’ about you before.”
you nod slowly, curiosity suddenly eating at you but like always, you’re interrupted before you can pry.
“been havin’ fun?” the one you’re starting to realise is akashi asks another question, and you only shake your head. maybe shinichiro told them about your deal. they were some of his oldest friends, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to believe. “you smoke?”
“oh no, not tobacco.” you shake your head, wrinkling your nose at the memory of how it’d tasted when you’d taken a hit from hanma shuji’s cigar months back.
“c’mon,” he calls you to the couch with a wave of his hand, watching intently as you hesitate, looking towards the closed door. shinichiro wouldn’t leave you with them if they would hurt you. slowly, you make your way to stand in front of him. he leans his head against his shoulder to blow the smoke away from your face when you stop, giving you a view of his defined jaw and that scar running down his cheek.
“one hit won’t hurt.” he looks back at you and holds the cigarette up for you to grab. with shaking fingers, you take it from his fingers. you can practically taste the smoke off of his scent alone. he reeks like a chainsmoker but somehow it’s not enough to make you repulsed.
“you’re such a pretty lil’ thing,” he mutters, leaning forward and reaching out with rough fingers to skim up the side of your thigh as you take a short drag. “it’d be a shame not to show you a good time while we got ya.” your face burns at the touch, and whatever expression you make from the unexpected words mixed with the sting of nicotine hitting your chest makes him chuckle. “that’s if you can handle it.”
you cough out the smoke, quickly moving the cigarette away from where it pollutes your air. “i can handle a lot,” you say coolly, grimacing at the aftertaste. “cigarette smoke just isn’t on that list.”
he chuckles and reaches to grab the cigarette from your hold. or so you thought, his hand instead wraps around your wrist, pulling you down gently to straddle his lap.
despite his gentle guiding, you manage to be clumsy enough that ashes are dropped on the top of your thigh— the burning cherry falling with it making you suck in a sharp breath, hand twisting into his shirt and eyes fluttering shut all the same. he hums and apologizes under his breath, adjusting you on his thighs as he reaches around you to the coffee table for his lighter— his chest pressing up against yours and free arm wrapping around the small of your back to secure you in the process.
“‘ll be more careful with ya, promise.” his stubble brushes against your neck as he leans back against the cushions, fingers fumbling against the plastic and the other trying to be delicate not to break the paper. you’re not sure where the confidence comes from, but you grab the lighter from his hold and flicker the flame for him, not once breaking eye contact as he places the butt back between his lips and leans in to catch the fire. your hand falls after the flame dies, watching him take a drag as your own breath gets caught in your throat when his free hand starts to dance up the side of your body.
once he finishes inhaling, he licks his lips and you feel something heat in the pit of your stomach at the sight—shinichiro wants you to experience being young and wild, surely he wouldn’t be mad if it was with his friends. smoke is blown across your face and before you have a moment to react, the hand at your side wraps around your jaw and holds it, but doesn’t pull you forward—you move on your own.
you press your lips into his and the taste of his tongue makes you whine before you adjust to it, your hands moving from where they’d fallen limp to wrap around his neck. the hold on your face disappears and then you feel the same rough palm gliding under your skirt, squeezing at the soft give of your ass. his mouth moves from your own, down to your neck where you shiver at the way he seems to find all your most sensitive spots with ease, sucking and licking at them. you’re so lost in the feeling that you don’t even notice when he moves his hand again, not until his thumb is pressing at your clit through your panties making you let out a soft whisper of a curse and you’re bucking your hips into his touch.
so caught up in how akashi consumes your senses, it takes far too long to recognize the other man’s hand— the man you’d completely forgot was still lingering in the room—is tugging at the end of your skirt.
“c’mere.” imaushi speaks low, his gaze dragging from your chest back up to your eyes before trying again to beckon you over with a nod of his head and even as akashi pulls from where he’d likely been putting marks into your skin, you hesitate. “it’ll be fun.” he finally convinces you and with akashi’s help, you’re crawling off his lap only to realize with a flushed face that you’re now stuck between them on your hands and knees.
the long-haired man’s hands are much softer in comparison to those trailing along the backside of your thighs. imaushi wraps his hand under your jaw the same way akashi had done, and you realize that he also waits for you to close the gap between the two of you on your own. low eyes glancing between yours and your likely swollen lips until you reach to connect with his.
his lips are softer than akashi’s, you note, his tongue sweeter. he moans lightly as you suck on the muscle, his grasp loosening in favor of wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you in closer. behind you, akashi thumbs over your slit, pressing the wet fabric deeper into your folds with each pass. you’re sure you make a noise when he starts to circle at your clit, one that imaushi mimics tauntingly before he pulls your shirt up, using the hand not pinning you to him to slide under your bra and tweak at your nipples.
one of akashi’s hands work your underwear to the side, a low “shit, baby” falls from his mouth and he mimics his same movements, teasing your clit and entrance until you’re making an even bigger mess for him, the sound of him gliding through your slit obvious in the otherwise quiet room. the need to have them do something— anything else becomes overbearing.
“stop teasing,” nearly comes out as a whisper when you pull from the kiss. but you know they both hear you because imaushi looks past you to where his friend is sitting and they both laugh shortly at your expense.
“not teasin’, pretty.” the man infront of you turns his hold so his thumb is under the side of your jaw, the rest of his fingers wrapper around your throat. “we don’t rush things like the little boys you run ‘round with.”
and as to prove his point, akashi pushes a single finger into you, taking his time to press it against your softest wall that he didn’t have to guess to find. if not for it being held up, you’re sure your jaw would drop as the high whine vibrates through your throat. another is added and you’ve lost a sense of where you are, your eyes roll back and you’re pushing your hips to try and force his pace but the hand that you know is holding his still lit cigarette grabs the fat of your ass, holding you in place for him to fuck his fingers into you how he sees fit.
you can hear the sound of imaushi undoing his pants below you but you don’t register why until he brings his mouth to your ear. “spit on it for me, princess.”
obediently, you do, moving with shaking arms to pucker your lips and drop spit onto the head of his cock. when akashi adds the third finger, your arms completely give out and imaushi’s hold isn’t as strong as you’d thought because you fall right onto his lap. you can’t complain, not with the pleasure coiling in your stomach, added with the sight of him pumping his length with your spit coating him.
“how you feelin’, lil’ baby?” the words float from the other end of the couch.
“s’good, ‘kashi, fuck.” he curls his fingers and pushes them deeper than before on your last word making you squeal.
“takeomi,” he huffs and you feel the weight by your feet shift. you’re sure you’d be able to pick up the sound of him unzipping his own pants but imaushi’s hand distracts you with a guiding push towards his now fully hard cock.
you’re granted the sight of his lean abdomen when he slides his own shirt up away from where his dick rests against it. “‘nd call me waka, yeah?”
you mumble out an, “‘kay, waka,” but it’s swallowed by the gasp you make when akashi presses the thick head of himself against your entrance. “‘omi, ‘omi fuck—“ he’s easily bigger than anyone you’ve taken, in girth at least.
“s’wet.” he sucks in a breath as he pushes in slowly, holding your skirt out of his way as he pulls back after every inch he sinks in to ease himself into you. “this for us old men, little thing?”
you moan a sweet ‘mhm’ though your face burns in embarrassment. you force yourself onto your forearms and wrap your lips around imaushi’s cock, the taste of salt diminishing the thought. later you’d think about how pretty his dick was, from the pink of the tip to the veins running along the shaft— veins that you now tongue at while you take more into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and moaning around him when akashi pushes even more of his thick cock into you and you’re starting to wish you would’ve taken the extra prep he’d been trying to do.
“what a mouth.” is grunted from above you and you wouldn’t believe the deepness in his tone if you weren’t hearing it for yourself. akashi chuckles shortly from where he’s kneeled when he feels you clench around him at what one can hardly call praise.
it’s when he finally bottoms out that his ashes fall on your skin once again, this time on your ass and you choke around the tip hitting your throat when the cherry burns you yet again, making you jump from where your hips were pressed to his.
“dirty girl.” akashi shakes his head knowingly at the way you tighten around him again. “‘nd i was so worried ‘bout hurtin’ you.”
“she like that?” imaushi asks with the most amusement you’ve heard from him tonight, which is still closer to none. but you don’t hear if he gets an answer because akashi winds his hips back and starts fucking into you— the pace isn’t brutal, but is far faster than the one he’d used while fingering you.
you try to bob your head but it’s no use when you’re forced down onto imaushi with each push of the clothed thighs behind you until you can’t breathe anymore and you have to pop off of him. your head falls back on his thigh and your nails come to dig into the fabric of his dark jeans.
“you’re good,” imaushi coo’s, grabbing your hand from his lap and using it to jerk himself off as your eyes flutter. “just be good ‘nd feel good for us.”
it’s all too much, the ecstasy they give you that you’ve never even brought yourself to, how they’re fucking you out farther than you’ve ever been, all while still treating you like glass. it makes your head spin, tears welling in your eyes as the knot in your stomach winds so tight it’s starting to fray.
“‘m close, s’close—fuck, fuck—“ you try to reach beneath you with your free hand, but akashi bats it away.
“c’mon baby, don’t insult me like that.” one of his rough hands reaches around your hip, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingers and sends you tumbling over the edge.
all you see is white as the hot static flows through your limbs, the curses escaping both the older men lost over the sound of your own broken moans. their names mix together, whined softly like a prayer repeated again and again as akashi fucks you through your high, groaning as his grip tightens into your plush skin at the way your pussy pulses around him.
“feel so damn good,” his own voice sounds worn and you let out a whimper. “‘gonna take it for me?”
you only have a clue at what he could mean but you nod and babble out ‘yes’ and ’please’ before you truly give it any thought. his speed picks up, but somehow still as gentle as he shove his cock so deep its painful and paints your walls white. it sends your eyes rolling back again just from the sensation.
“shiiiit— put your tongue out f’me, princess.”
it’s a heart racing sight to see how imaushi stares at you with parted lips, chest heaving as he throbs in your palm. you loll your tongue out just as he asked and he nearly instantly shoots his load on it with a silent moan, one that only becomes audible when you lick at his slit before swallowing what coats your tongue.
you’re floating as you’re straightened up by sturdy hands, a different set of hands massage soothingly at your thigh when you’re back upright.
“keep tryin’ with shin’.” akashi scoots to closer, letting you fall and lean into his side, one heavy arm resting along the back of the couch as the other put his nearly gone cigarette back between his lips. “he’s bound to give in.”
“”nd if not, just put it on him.” imuashi squeezes the fat of your thigh as he adds on. “he won’t be able to say no.”
all you can do is smile dumbly and nod. you’re so close to drifting off after such an orgasm and the way they speak so lowly from either side of you nearly lulls you to sleep. the only other thing you can remember before you fall into unconsciousness is the music playing from inside the shop— you wonder how long it’s be on, and why it’s so loud.
you miss shinichiro who finally comes back into the room after keeping everyone out of the hallway after he’d caught sound of your moans. miss the small rise of the corner of his mouth when he sees you all tuckered out and disheveled, the way you snuggle into akashi’s chest and push your leg into imaushi’s hand when he stops massaging at it for even a second.
“she have fun?” he asks his friends as he passes behind where you’re sat, palm falling to rub the top of your head.
“‘course she did,” imaushi answers.
“don’t get stingy when you finally put a ring on it.” akashi blows his smoke opposite of you. “even married women should have fun.”
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feedback + reblogs are appreciated <3.
[repost from an old blog]
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bullet-prooflove · 3 months
Note
Chibs
1.lipstick
2.cuffs
3.patch
4. Church table (the giant table with the engraving)
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This did not go the way I expected...
Companion piece to Gunpower & Lead
Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @Kishie8 @nu1freakshow @darqchilddaydreamz @Just-a-girl-who-wrytes
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Chibs doesn’t expect to find you at the table, the one they use for Church. You’re sitting in his seat, your gaze focused on the wooden carving etched into the centre. You look like a queen, lost in thought, pondering a problem.
It’s rare that you enter this space, despite being matriarch. Your battlefield is the courtroom, you leave club business to them unless they require legal expertise. He’s been gone a couple days, on a trip down to Santo Padre, the calls between the two of you have been sparse. He’d thought that you were caught up in one of your cases but now he can see it’s something else, something much more problematic.
“Alright love?” He asks as he strips off his gloves from the ride, tucking them into the back pocket in his jeans. His leans over, his lips brushing over the apple of your cheek so that he doesn’t smear your lipstick.
“They found some bones out in the woods a few days ago.” You tell him, your fingertips rapping lightly on the surface of the table. “There’s a rumour that it had a metal plate in it’s left arm.”
The air seems to leave the room and his chest constricts. He sits down in Tig’s seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. That body you’re talking about, it’s your ex-husband, the one you killed because he almost killed you. He’d had the prospects take care of the disposal, Ratboy and Miles before the two of them were patched in. He doesn’t understand, the body should have been cremated…
Then he remembers the scandal a couple of months later, the cremator had been broken and Skeeter had been storing the bodies out back. He’d tried burying a couple in the beginning he’d told the police when the discovery was made but it had become too much work when they kept piling up. It’s why they’d stopped using him.
Your ex, he must have been one of them.
“In the next few days they’re going to identify the body and then they’re going to come knocking on our door.” You tell him, adjusting the cuffs of your silk blouse. “I’ve started to put my affairs in order,  the house and everything else has been transferred into your name…”
“Lassie…” He begins, reaching for you and you squeeze his hand tightly in yours.
“This is the way it has to be.” You say quietly. “If I don’t go in and make a confession, it’ll come down on the club and we can’t have that. You were just cleaning up my mess.”
It feels like he’s burning alive, like someone has tipped a can of petrol over his entire body and lit a match. The agony of this decision it sears through his entire body, he wants to argue, to fight but he can see the resignation in you, he knows it would be like screaming into the wind.
You have to do this, for him, for the club because this thing, it could take them all down.
“When?” He says finally, his voice barely more than a rasp.
“Tomorrow.” You tell him and he knows that you’re giving him one last night together before they take you away in cuffs. “I’ll make my confession to David Hale tomorrow.”
Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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voidvannie · 5 months
Text
𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐓𝐒
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☄. *. ⋆ 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 !
𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 。。。 kaelyn takes part in a game of spill your guts alongside james corden and niall horan when she admits to liking hockey more than football.
ੈ✩ ━ ❪ feel free to send an any request of things you want to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts about what your read! i would love that! ❫
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"Welcome back, everybody!" James greets the audiance as he sat at the table with Kaelyn, Niall Horan and Ewan McGregor, "Let's take a look at the food that we have. We have salmon smoothie, beef tongue, bird saliva, herring rollmop, scorpion, fish head, hot sauce and finally, bull penis."
"Can I call my brother to come pick me up?" Kaelyn scrunches her nose up at the foods placed in front of her.
Everyone laughs, including the audiance.
"Do you always get your brother to pick you up from nasty things?" Niall laughs at the blonde to the right of him.
"Yes."
"So here's how it works, Ewan and I will be asking questions to Kaelyn and Niall, and vise versa." James explained how the game works. "Now, if someone on your team chooses not to answer their question, you both will have to eat the disgusting food. Have we got it?"
"Yes."
"Legally, and with the remind of my brother, I am required to tell you that I have a sever peanut allergy and I do not have my Epipen on me." Kaelyn informs everyone at the table.
"We made sure before we asked you on." James smirked at the blonde.
"I figured as much." She sighed.
"Niall, you're up first." James calls out the Irish man, "Niall, I am going to give you."
"Please don't do that. My acid reflex will freak out." Niall points to the hot sauce as James spins the trey around.
"Please, anything but the scorpion." Kaelyn whines, brushing her hair out of her face.
"The salmon smoothie.” The chunky pink drink stops in front of the two. “Here is your question. So if you answer the question you don’t have to eat. If you don’t answer the question, you both have to have a big glug of the salmon smoothie.”
“I don’t know what I’m more nervous about, the question or the smoothie.” Niall laughs.
James looks down at the flash card in his hands, “Well, I’ve just seen the question, I think it might be the question. Niall, who is your least favorite member of One Direction?”
“My Directioner heart can’t take it!” Kaelyn dramatically slaps a hand over her heart with a pout on her lips.
The audience screams out at the question while Niall gives off a nervous laugh.
Niall picks the drink off of the table, pushing it towards Kaelyn before sitting it back down as she reaches for it.
“Shit.” Niall laughs, “Um—,”
“As much as I hate this, I think you should drink.” Kaelyn reaches a hand out to touch Niall on the arm, “I am not your publicist. But I don’t know that you should.”
“Don’t think of your teammate, think of your life.” James tells the Irish singer.
“I think I might and just take the daily mail hit tomorrow, and throw out a crap answer.” Niall laughs, “I’m trying to help out Kaelyn.”
“I’ll drink it.” Kaelyn cringed at the thought of the thick substance as she used the green cloth to put around his neck.
“Are you gonna go salmon!”
“Yeah, for future life, yeah, I think I’ll go with this. Sorry, Kaelyn.” Niall picks up two glasses, handing one to the blonde next to him.
“Down the hatch!”
Kaelyn brings the cup up, tipping it but the drink is so thick that it doesn’t even move.
“Hang on, there you go.” James passed Niall a fork as Kaelyn grabs the one from next to her and dips it into the cup.
“No!” Kaelyn can’t help but to gag as she moves to spilt it out, reaching for the glass of water. “Oh, my gos! That’s just nasty!”
“It’s not so much of the taste, it’s the texture, it’s like having a salmon yogurt.” Niall explained the best he can.
“Right, so now is Kaelyn, you will ask your question to me.” James gestures to the singer. “Which would you like me and Ewan to have?”
“Hmm.” A smirk sets on her face as she looked at the question.
“Oh no. I don’t like the look on your face.” James laughs.
“I’m gonna give you guys the scorpion.” Kaelyn turned the table, the same smirk on her face, “James, name one artist you have turned down carpool karaoke.”
“How long have you got?” Niall laughs.
James picks the Scorpio up, “Cheers mate. Ewan, you question to Kaelyn.”
“I think I’m going for the tongue.”
“Fuck my life.”
The crowd and men at the table burst out laughing at the girl.
“Kaelyn, your brother is Joe Burrow, the quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, who is your actual favorite football team?”
The crowed ‘oohs’ as the blonde bows her head, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.
“Aren’t you on a plane to Cincinnati when you leave here?” Niall questioned.
“Yes.” She groaned before looking up, her face twisted if false confusion, “Truthfully, I watch football a lot less than other sports. I love supporting Joe, but my heart is, and will always be, a die hard hockey fan.”
“Hockey?”
“Yes, and not just any hockey team, the New Jersey Devils.” Kaelyn says before looking straight at the camera, “Jack Hughes, if you are watching this, slide into my DM’s. I promise, I’ll reply.” She winks.
“Shoot your shot, girl!” Everyone laughs as someone from the audience yells it out.
“I am!”
James laughed, clapping his hands. “Unfortunately, that is all we have time for today! Kaelyn, I want a thank you at your wedding in a couple of years whenever you married this hockey player you’re obsessed with! Jack Hughes, DM her please!”
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