#i dont want to loose you or make you think i dont love and enjoy our time together

[xenomorphicdna]

On the string propaganda

Heeellll yeah

Bestie is an entire PLACE

I look at those guys and let me tell you the soul of that thing ain't just in the puppet, it's in all the neurons carrying the thoughts and emotions, it's in the power rails that serve as the heart. All the memories in the memory conflux and all the numbers we see flicker across displays, the flux condensers, the puppet; a little avatar.

No way these massive machines see life the same way we do. They have their own experiences and senses and things they hold dear. A world we can't imagine, a way of living we couldn't even comprehend.

I could never tear an iterator apart to be just a puppet. Who am I to decide how's life supposed to be enjoyed or perceived?

You treat your creechurs however you want- I ain't gonna dictate that. But damn, hearing the thrums and buzzes of the linear systems rail? They are alive with so much power, these mechanical beasts are exactly what they should be.

[searchingformylostpan]

Sorry for getting frustrated with you earlier, it's hard for me to stay calm when you're getting ovesstimulated and we're working on something since I pick up on your energy and it affects me too especially when there's not really anything I can do to help you in those times....and when it feels like you're not listening to me/taking over what I was doing/kinda felt like you were saying I was gonna mess it up and with how angry you've been getting with me nearly every day recently I'm kinda at my max and I snap back at you a lot quicker than I normally would....

and also stuff like earlier when we were getting up and you were "just messing with me" and pinching me and you say that it's unreasonable for me to ask that you not do something that actually hurts me that I don't like....idk what to do with that. I feel like I've asked you so many times now to stop hurting me, I know it's fun for you but it isint fun for me bc it feels like no matter what I say you're just gonna keep doing it and i should just be ok with it and then when I try to talk to you about it I'm being mean and you redirect the conversation to something I'm doing wrong every time. I know I'm laughing while trying to fight you off when you try to get me bc it's fun when were just playing around but you don't hold back when you pinch/spank me and it is seriously painful. I would be ok with it if it was in a playful way but I don't like constantly being afraid of you getting me by surprise and reacting badly like I did when I hit you.

Idk I wish I could talk to you about this but you shut down every time I try to or I'm being mean or you just make appaled noises at me and don't actually say anything amd just expect me to understand what that means. Even sending this to you on facebook messenger would just be left ignored like all the other attempts I've made, so this is the last method I can come up with for you to hopefully sometime soon whenever you're able to read . I don't like getting upset with you, but I also really can't handle getting hurt so much either. It's been putting me in a really bad place and I'm having trouble convincing myself that i don't deserve this bc of my choices.

Don't think that I'm ok with still being in this position...I very much am disgusted with myself all day every day for not being able to figure this shit out. But I've had to accept that im not you. I can't just will myself better and I can't figure out how to overcome whatever all my issues are on my own. I know im going to need some serious professional help to be able to break this downward streak I'm stuck in. And when I am ready to accept that help again, I don't want to walk away halfway through again. So im waiting till august when my insurance is active to check back into inpatient....i know that's not what you want to hear, me too, but i can't lose this job. I need the insurance in order to go to the rehab i want to go to that i think will be the best for me, and until then, i need to be able to survive. If that's not ok with you, i understand if you need to take some time to yourself until i can be 100% me again.

It feels like you currently see me as maybe 2% me, as someone who isint worth the effort to try to be a bit more kind to when you're hurting (your words, I asked if you could at least try to be mindful of how your words affect me and you said no, that I couldn't expect any changes or effort from you on that.) It feels a little like I'm just here for your enjoyment and my feelings don't really matter too much.....I don't like it when you cause me physical (and mental) pain and im the unreasonable one for asking you not to hurt me and why cant i just spit it out that i made a horrible decision one night last year of who i hung out with for an evening and had my right to control what happens to my body taken away from me?( Huh why is that so hard to tell say to you when youre yelling at me that you should have the right to do whatever you want to me wheneveryou want to just because i didnt used to stop you and i dont really feel comfortable telling you something that i havemt told anyone else before and that you really have no need to know? It should be enough that im telling you im nkt comfortable with it and to please stop. But no.)

and by not wanting me to even drop you off at the post it feels like youre embarrased by me and dont want anyone to know you associate with me....i was honestly shocked when you said i could come have a drink with you at happy hour and that you didn't just immediately want to go home...My self worth used to grow so much when I was around you, I know that the pain is causing a lot of this, but I can't deal with this level of shit. If it's because of my choices then please just tell me to fuck off and I'll leave you alone. I'm having a hard time believing that there's really nothing that can be done to improve things for the both of us....

I know this is a whole lot in this post....ive been trying to talk to you about this but I don't know how to get you to actually have a conversation with me about any of this so it's all just been building up....and im at my breaking point now. So please, PLEASE can we find a way to treat eachother better? I love you so very much, the only thing that really matters to me in all of this is that I feel like I can't talk to you. That's it, if we could work that out everything else would work itself out. I don't want to be apart from you for an extended time ever again, I know I will have to go away for a month or so this fall, but after (and until) that, I would love to wake up next to you every single morning.....

[amentomensmut]

I've never asked for a request before and i dont have clout to write it myself so i thought id ask since i like some of your Mike stuff but

What about something like reader and Mike are friends and he goes to a wedding her as a favor cause i like the idea that he has like a messy suit, loose tie kind of hot mess vibe and smutty things happen lol I dont have much in mind but the idea of him in a messy suit trying to look cleaned up is just like ...drool idk

Plus One

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 3.1k+

Summary: You invite Mike to be your plus one at your sister's wedding, but things go wrong during the reception and Mike uses you to take out his frustrations.

Warnings: 18+ CONTENT, okay so like reader and Mike are friends but also its kinda angry sex??? You’ll see. Manhandling (sorta), slight exhibitionism, degrading, praise, dirty talk, finger sucking, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap pookies)

Note: oh my GOD this one got away from me and i'm NOT sure about it, I feel like i could’ve written this a bit better but i just started babbling and now we're here. to the person who requested this: THANK YOU.  i loved ur idea and him in a suit like makes me drool too omg. i also couldn’t help adding a little angst in here. also so nevry to post this?? so lmk what u guys think! enjoy :)

“Please, Mike. I swear this is the last thing you’ll ever have to do for me!” You plead, trying to reason with the very unimpressed looking man in front of you. You’ve been stuck in Mike's kitchen for the past half hour trying to convince him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding next Saturday. Clearly, your convincing hasn’t been successful so far. 

“The last time I did a favour for you was supposed to be the last time.” Mike says with a knowing smirk, and you roll your eyes. A few weeks ago, you went out to a bar with some friends and you may have had a few too many long island iced teas. The owner had forced your hand into calling someone to pick you up, and it was Mike's number you had dialled that night. As he drove you back to your apartment with an unpleasant look on his face, you swore to him that that would be the last favour you'd ever ask of him. How you wish you could take that back right about now. 

“Okay, well, I was drunk when I said that. So it doesn't count.” You say with a frown, crossing your arms against your chest like a child who was denied candy. 

You can’t really blame Mike for not wanting to go. Your family is…a lot. You love your family, you really do (most of the time). But, they can be judgemental. You were the kid in school who always got the hottest new toys for Christmas, and had big themed parties for your birthday every year. It had never really dawned on you that you were more well off than other kids until you had met Mike. You became friends with Mike when you were both 15. When you first brought Mike over to your house to hang out, you heard your parents whispering about him that night when you were supposed to be in bed. Your parents gossiped about the kidnapping of his brother, the suicide of his mother, and how Mike and his sister were essentially left to their own devices with their father paralyzed and consumed by grief. It made you sick to hear your parents nitpick and discuss Mike's life like it was a reality tv show. Your parents never really approved of your friendship with Mike, and they tend to not-so-subtly make that known whenever you make the mistake of bringing him up in a conversation. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works. Besides, when your sister offered you a plus one, I really don’t think she had me in mind.” Mike says as he reaches into his fridge for a beer. “In fact, I think she’d prefer you to invite that guy who works at the convenience store and catcalls you everytime you go in, instead of me.” He says, cracking open his beer and offering you a smile before he takes a sip. 

“Well now you’re just being dramatic.” You huff as you walk over to the couch in Mike's living room and take a seat. Mike follows you from the kitchen and sits down in his armchair, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Mike sticks his tongue out at you and you have to restrain yourself from strangling the man. If it were any other wedding you would’ve just gone on your own. However, your family events tend to…take a turn for the worst. Your family's gatherings usually end with drama, and you know that even though it’s your sister's wedding, this will be no different. That’s why you're insistent on bringing Mike as your plus one, so you can have a little support if things go awry. 

“Very mature.” You say with a shake of your head, once again rolling your eyes at the rude gesture.

“Listen, I’ll go. But, on one condition.” Mike says, and you sit up straight at his words.

“What’s the condition?” You ask suspiciously, but at this point you think you’d agree to almost anything.

“You babysit Abby for a month,”

“Deal.”

“And do my laundry for a month.” Mike adds.

“That’s two conditions actually, Mike.” You scoff as you get off the couch to leave.

“So you’re inviting the guy from the convenience store then?” Mike teases, knowing he's your only option.

You turn around to face Mike, squinting your eyes at him. God, you hate that cocky smirk he does when he knows he's winning. Bastard.

“Have a suit by Saturday. I’ll be over at 10am.” You sigh, flipping Mike off as you leave through his front door.

“Very mature.” You hear him mumble on your way out.

—-----------------------------------------

“Mike, it looks like you just came back from a bachelor party. Not like you’re going to a wedding.” You say, noting the way Mike’s tie hangs loosely around his neck and the first couple buttons on his white button up are left undone. Mike runs his hands through his hair and you quickly bat them away, scolding him for ruining the hair you had just attempted to fix in the car only moments before you arrived. You can’t deny that he looks handsome. He surely looks charming with the way his gelled hair falls messily on his forehead, and the way his dads old suit fits him almost perfectly.

“Well, hopefully your sister doesn’t mind.” Mike says sarcastically as he adjusts the cuff links on the ends of his sleeves and steps out of your car and towards the church where your sister is getting married. 

The first half of the wedding went pretty smoothly. You and your sister have never really been close, so It wasn’t a surprise to you when she didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid. You and Mike sat a few rows down, occasionally playing footsies under the pew when you’d accidentally bump feet. A kiss was shared between the bride and groom, and everyone left to go to the reception. 

You were nervous about the reception, to be quite honest. Mike could tell, and he put his hand on your lower back, resting it there as you both walked into the banquet hall. You nearly faint when you see the sheer amount of people that fill the room. There have to be about 200 people minimum. It seemed like way less in the church, you think.

“I need a drink.” You mumble to Mike, dragging him over to the bar. 

Both you and Mike order a drink, and you want to be swallowed by the ground when you hear your mothers shrill, sing-songy voice behind you. 

“Darling! I didn’t see you during the ceremony, I thought you hadn’t come.” You turn around and she pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks. She pulls away from you and you notice her eyes immediately land on Mike. “Oh, and what a surprise. Mike, how are you and your sister?” Your mother continues, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

You watch as Mike plasters a big, albeit fake, smile on his face and shakes your mothers hand. 

“Abby and I are doing well, thank you for asking.” Mike says, and you almost laugh at his cordial tone. Mike sends you a ‘help me’ look and you mouth a ‘sorry’ to him.

“Gosh, it just devastated me to hear about your fathers passing.” Your mother says, clutching her chest like she's in pain, and you think she deserves an Oscar for the way she acts like she gives a shit. “I’m sure it must be so hard for you to provide for your sister alone.” Your mother adds and you watch the smile slowly slide off of Mike’s face.

“Why do you say that?” He asks, and you suddenly regret ever asking Mike to be your plus one. 

“Mom-,” You start to say, but she disregards your voice, raising her hand as you speak to stop you.

“Well, I know you struggle keeping a job. You know, not everyone is cut out to raise a child.” If you could see yourself, you’re sure all the colour would be drained from your face. You’re left speechless, mouth half hung open at your mothers words. How could she say that? She doesn’t know him like you do. She doesn’t know how much Mike sacrifices to provide for Abby.

You look over at Mike and his jaw is tightly clenched. You brace yourself for Mike's next words, but they don’t come. Instead, you watch as he excuses himself and walks towards the mens bathroom.

“Well, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Your mother jokes once Mike is out of earshot.

“Jesus Christ, mom.” You say incredulously as you turn to go find Mike. 

You walk towards the bathrooms, entering the men’s restroom with only one thing on your mind. Mike. Luckily the restroom is empty, save for Mike who is leaning over the counter. You slowly reach behind yourself, locking the bathroom door. You begin to step towards Mike, but you stop when you hear his voice.

“Do you think I'm not fit to raise Abby?” Mike asks you angrily, not even turning to look at you. You just stand there like an idiot, reaching down to fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“I-, no. Of course not.” You say, and the music that was loud in the hall, is now only a low hum in the bathroom. 

It’s silent for a moment, and you’re not really sure what to say, or how to make things better. You resume taking slow, tentative steps towards Mike and you stop once you’re behind him. You place an uncertain hand on his back, softly rubbing it up and down to comfort him. He lets you touch him and you hear him let out a breath. He turns around to face you and you look up to meet his eyes. He studies your face for a moment, and you inch even closer to him. 

“I’m sorry about my mom. That was inexcusable.” You sigh. If you were in Mike’s shoes, you probably would’ve left the reception entirely, and you’re not entirely opposed to that idea right now. 

“Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” Mike finally says, and there’s distaste in his tone. You don’t say anything, you know it's true. Your family, especially your mother, has never approved of your friendship with Mike. 

“Do you think that?” Mike asks you, and you’re just now realising how close Mike’s face is to your own. You look up at him with furrowed brows and shake your head.

“No, Mike. I don’t think that.” You say quietly, and you swear the tension between Mike and you is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. You look down, but you feel Mike's hand grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look back up at him.

“You can’t even look at me when you say it. Pathetic.” Mike seethed. You let out a hushed whimper at his words..

“Sorry.” You say, but your voice sounds small. “I know you are.” He coos, rubbing his thumb back on fourth on your cheek.

“I need you to do something for me, okay?” Mike says, leaning down to speak in your ear. His voice is sweet and the switch in moods makes your head spin.

“Okay.” You nod and Mike pulls away from your ear to look you in the eyes.

“Be fucking quiet.” He says, and he presses his lips to yours. You softly gasp in shock, but quickly kiss him back as he turns you around to hoist you up onto the counter. He grabs both of your knees, opening them to make space for him to stand between your legs. He grips your thighs harshly, and you sigh when he sucks on your bottom lip. He puts one of his hands under your jaw, using it to hold your head in place as he kisses you. His lips are slightly chapped, but you don’t mind. He kisses you with fever, and you can’t deny that you haven’t thought about this. 

He kisses down to your jaw and neck, sucking the skin in a way where you know there will be bruises. Jerk. You run your hands through his hair, throwing your head back at the pleasurable feeling of his lips gliding over your skin. The hand that was on your thigh is now trailing up your leg and under your skirt. You clench your legs around his hand and he softly bites your neck, wordlessly scolding you for your actions. You reopen your legs and his hand comes up to make contact with your clothed clit. He rubs slow circles and you let out a soft whimper.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He slurs in your ear, and his fingers move from your clit to the waistband on your panties, pulling it back and slapping it against your skin. You nod and he’s pulling you off of the counter and flipping you around. Mike bends you over and your chest meets the cold granite. You look in front of you and you can see Mike behind you in the mirror on the wall. He pushes your knee length skirt up and around your hips, and groans at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You okay?” He asks genuinely, running his hands along the sides of your body in a comforting manor.

“Yeah, keep going.” You breathe out and he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them down. You clench around nothing as the cold air hits your cunt. You moan softly as Mike spreads your pussy open with his thumbs, groaning at how wet you are. Without warning, he inserts his pointer and middle finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds of Mike fingering you fill the bathroom and you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers curl up into your sweet spot. 

“Apparently your pussy thinks I’m good enough.” Mike says and you look up into the mirror to see his jaw slack, watching the way his fingers move in and out of you. You can feel Mike's erection brushing against the back of your thigh as he rocks his hips with every thrust of his fingers. 

“Mike, fuck me.” You whine, and Mike takes his fingers out of you. He brings them to your lips, pushing them inside your mouth, and you can hear him undoing his belt with his other hand. 

“Thought I told you to be fucking quiet.” He murmurs and you watch in the mirror as he shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to pull his hard cock out. He removes his fingers from your lips, using your spit as lube to pump his cock a few times before lining it up with your pussy. He slowly inches himself inside of you, pushing you down onto the counter. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you hear Mike let out a whine at the feeling of being in you. 

He starts to pump himself in and out of you, and he pulls you up by your shirt into his chest to make you watch yourself in the mirror. He fucks into you like he can’t get enough of you. Like being inside of you isn’t close enough.

“What would your mother think? Hm? About her sweet little angel getting fucked in the bathroom?” Mike says in your ear, with a sickeningly sweet tone. It's like he just knows how to push your buttons. You let out a low moan at his words. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mike adds and your legs shake when he uses the hand that was holding you up to rub your clit. You drop back down on the counter and Mike grabs your hip with his free hand, using it as leverage to bottom out in you with every single thrust. He throws his head back in ecstasy and you clench around him, signalling your impending orgasm. 

“You wanna cum?” Mike asks, and his voice is raspy and fucked out. You nod your head ‘yes’. 

“No, want you to say it.” Mike says, and you can tell he’s close by his sloppy, less rhythmic thrusts.

“Please, Mike. Please, can I cum?” You beg, your voice hoarse. The filthy sounds of skin against skin echo throughout the bathroom, and if someone has tried to enter the bathroom since you’ve been in here, you’ve been too fucked out to hear it. Thank god I locked the door, you think.

“Cum, baby, Fuck.” Mike chokes out. Your legs shake as you cum around his cock, your orgasm only heightened by the feeling of him filling you up. You bite down on your hand to muffle yourself and you swear to god you hear Mike whimper, pussy drunk as he continues to ride his high thrusting in and out of your sloppy pussy.

After catching his breath, you feel Mike pull out of you and you wince at the feeling of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. You slowly tilt your head up as you watch Mike get some toilet paper to clean himself up. He tucks himself back inside his boxers and pulls his pants up. You flinch a little as you feel him come up behind you, cleaning you up with more toilet paper. 

“Sorry, was I too rough?” He asks softly, looking at you through the mirror and you shake your head.

“No, just sensitive.” You say as Mike finishes cleaning you. You pull your panties back up, letting your skirt fall back over your legs. Your knees buckle a little bit as you try to stand straight and Mike rushes over to you, lending you a hand.

“You know, I actually think you’re one of the only people who genuinely thinks I am good enough.” Mike says, and you look up at him.

“Of course I do. I always have.” You say softly, gently touching Mike’s cheek.

[mooshywrites]

How to tell they’re falling for you

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

Art Commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion ~

~ Astarion keeps his feelings so close to his chest that it’s difficult to realize when he’s slowly falling for you

~ If you play close enough attention, the little gifts he brings you would give away how he felt immediately

~ They start out mundane, practical things he gives you to help with the journey

~ Health potions when you’re getting low, expensive ale he found while rummaging, enchanted weapons that lent to your class

~ Ever so slightly, the gifts would get more personalized, more meaningful

~ A handkerchief with your initials embroidered in it, a book you had glanced over for a split second longer than the others

~ He always denies the idea that the things he gives you mean anything, too insecure of the thought of love

~ Even when he spent the morning trying to find your favorite flower, he refused to admit he was actually looking for it

~ “Don’t be silly, darling, it just happened to be in the field where I was looking for… something else.”

Halsin ~

~ With Halsin, it isn’t hard to notice he’s fallen hard for you at all

~ When you first met, though he was a bit flirtatious, it was nothing compared to the way he spoke to you when his feelings rose to the surface

~ He never missed an opportunity to compliment you, tease you, watch the blush rise in your cheeks at his affection

~ Every word he said was meaningful, it was almost like you had a walking poetry book following you around

~ He compared you to everything he found beautiful in nature, taking the time to pick out the blooming flowers that matched your eyes

~ Your other companions grew tired of it quite quickly, but nothing could stop your Druid from fawning over you

~ Soon, he was telling everyone else how enchanting he found you

~ No townsperson was safe from him spilling out all of the things he thought of yours truly

~ “You don’t understand. Silvanus couldn’t have gifted the world with a better person.”

Gale ~

~ The signs that the wizard is falling for you couldn’t be more… Gale-ish

~ You truly thought he had lost interest for a bit, all of his charms and flirting taking a back seat

~ That is, until you realized he was studying you

~ It started with books on a subject you had talked to him about, your special interests written out on the pages before him

~ The next time you talked, he proudly informed you that he had learned all about what you had told him, excited to talk about what you enjoyed

~ Then, he might has well have been reading a book all about you

~ He talked incessantly to you, trying to learn everything about you; your favorite things, the things you despised, down to your favorite shade of healing potion

~ The wizard worked all of this in to every day life, using his new knowledge to make every minute brighter

~ “I know you said you didn’t like this plant. Not to worry, I read all about it and how to avoid it.”

Wyll ~

~ It was hard to know when Wyll was falling for you or whether he was just being his charming self

~ It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to go out of his way for someone after all

~ Perhaps it took you a while to notice, but as soon as you did, you saw it everywhere

~ He wanted to help you with everything

~ Whether it was getting a stubborn strap of your armor loose or guiding you away from a mud puddle, he was always wanting to assist

~ Gods forbid there was an area laden with traps, the Blade would spend hours making sure didn’t step on one if he could

~ You never had to open a door, climb a step unaided, he even insisted doing your laundry in the river with his own

~ Even if you asked, he refused to let you return the favors

~ “Now surely you dont think I could let someone so enchanting go out of their way for me?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[bigfatbimbo]

ello its me from earlier praying to get the request of vox in lingerie to be fed because omg it would be so fun to see what happens you dont have to do this! but it would be cool to see also i love sub vox it just works dude thank you for the amazing vox headcannons and stores

I feel like for him to wear lingerie he would have to loose a bet or something. Like no doubt he’d look good, I know he’d look good, he’d know he’d look good. But for him to actually wear something like that for you, which he would consider a very submissive act, that would mean going down without a fight.

But maybe a part of him deep down would want to try that with you? He does like being submissive when it comes to you, but his pride conflicts with that interest. So, maybe making a not-so-serious bet like ‘oh the loser has to wear lingerie of the winners choosing to bed.’ and he’d have a shit eating grin because, a part of him still thinks he’s gonna win. Even if, deep down, he wouldn't mind such a vulnerable state with you, who he trusts.

However, he’s still banking on winning. The idea of shamefully wearing lingerie as a sign of loss is mearly hypothetical.

That is, of course, until you win. And god, you pick the most embarrassing, hot pink, lacey, flowery, very revealing set you could find. Oh, but he’s a man of his word, right? So he just has to do it, even if he doesn’t want to. He is not a man of his word and could make you forget this in a matter of seconds.

So, begrudgingly, he sulks towards you and onto the bed, arms crossed in a disapproving pout. But he looks so good, the way the lace hug his figure, highlighting all of his softer parts, and his hard ones as well.

He looks at you and snarls, “What? Want to rub your victory in or what?”

“No,” You say simply, crossing over to him, “You’re just so beautiful.” His eyes widen momentarily before you start kissing him, straddling him and laying him down on the mattress, kissing up his body and telling him how pretty he is.

This isn’t how he expected it to go. Should you be insulting him? Berating him with insults for loosing, or dressing like a slut. He imagines you were originally planning on doing so too so… that means that your praise must be completely heartfelt.

Oh god. He couldn’t stop the whines that erupted from his throat as you praised and marked every exposed part of him, rubbing up against his hard cock in the process.

One thing led to another, and positions were switched. He sat in your lap as you continued whispering sweet nothings in his speaker. He rode your thigh furiously, still covered by the lingerie, practically crying at the friction that wasn’t enough.

He complained for a little bit, but you only kissed his brattiness away with more praise. In all honestly, your softness was surprising yourself. He begged you to take the set off so he could really feel your thought on his dick, but you refused.

“Oh baby, I need some time to enjoy the view first.”

***NOT PROOFREAD***

[zaynesaurora]

ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to bedroom talk/noises — (MDNI)

a/n: idk i had some loose thoughts and tried to turn them into something, might be nothing ! bonus boys both got promoted for this one though because im insane about caleb in particular rn

zayne ! gets off on ambient noises. the rain battering the window panes, the crackling of a wood fire, the thump of the headboard against the wall- he’s romantic like that. he's pretty quiet broadly speaking when it comes to sex and so he enjoys when the atmosphere helps him to express his feelings, his own noises typically being the air escaping his nose in heavy puffs.

he has one sound he enjoys above all those though, always prefacing it with a gentle "are you ready, my love?"- before slipping himself into your awaiting walls, revelling in the gasp that follows in response.

accompanying it will always be the sounds of kissing. zayne pulling you under the sheets, wet lips planting themselves where ever he can reach- the dip of your collar bone being top of the list as he takes you chest to chest in his own perfected version of white noise. an instrumental that makes your skin burn until he stills above you, professing his love with a groan.

xavier ! forgets who he is, who you are, where he is, what hes doing- mind blank but his mouth works overtime to chant a chorus of "yes, Yes YES" with every drop of your hips, descending on him with precision.

if he could see himself from your perspective, he'd probably be unbelievably embarrassed- unaware of the drool thats collecting in the creases at the corners of his lips with every breathy mumble, voice horse from the sheer amount of satisfaction rushing through his veins and off his tongue. the same dewy look would be collecting in his eyes. pretty blues glassing over in a way that makes him look unresposive. he'd fail to let you know he was going to come. too caught up in his own choir to give it even a fleeting thought.

breathing would be laboured after the matter, lungs struggling to catch up with themselves as he comes back to his senses. he'd be slung right off of cloud nine when you start giggling beside him- suddenly aware that he has no idea what he was saying, or the noises he was allowing to be known. you had no idea a human being could change colour so fast.

rafayel ! has fun in sex. teasing nature seeping into all aspects of your life with him regardless of certain activities so it's completely expected that your shared quaters are filled with laughter and bickering even with him burried inside you- elegant hands swatting at your arse randomly to hear you yelp in surprise for him ( he's also doing it bc it makes you tighten around him but shh)

rafs tone would alter to have a more commanding edge as the pleasure really sets in, "dont you dare stop" being a phrase often thrown around and his nails sinking further into your skin- each time it's laced with a snarl that almost makes him seem intimdating if he wasn't belly laughing only a few minutes ago.

unfortunately, or fortunately in his case, he grows impossibly hard at the thought of someone hearing you guys- his pride and ego stroked thinking of an accidental visitor learning how healthy his sex life is, poor thomas has to do damage control fairly often to keep his reputation in good light.

caleb ! has a filthy, rotten mouth when he's caught in such an act. not really in a humiliation sense but more in that he swears like a sailor- each sentence broken or seperated by various profanities as he bigs his game up to egg you one. he won't admit it ever but his wordy displays are defenitely not rhetorical. he needs, and wants, you to let him know that he's doing you well.

"fuck baby, you lik- fuck, you like that dont you?", he'd hum into your ear, sweaty foreheads pressing together in an attempt to be as close to you as humanly possible- each question laced with a sweet pet name.

this boy has a unhealthy addiction to the sound of skin on skin, heavy plat plat plats ricochetting of the walls in a steady hyponitc rhythm that knocks all remaning sanity out of his head and into his dick. he’d drive into you for hours after he’s slipped into exhaustin just to hear the way it becomes messier, stickier- wetter as he annouces his orgasm to you.

jeremiah ! desperately tries to keep himself as quite as possible, shyness seeping into his bones when a stray moans slips from behind his lips- a soft note from the back of his throat that makes his ears flush a painful, deep red and his lip catch between his teeth until the skin breaks and theres a metalic tinge to his delicate kisses.

would have the tendancy to be higher pitched when he's in the bedroom, somewhat squeaky in his efforts to keep a lid on his excitement and would just about explode at the sound of your voice carrying him toward a sweet release- air coming out in hurried pants as his shoulders start to shake, stomach convulsing in waves with each desperate attemp to fill his chest and focus his mind.

"atta boy miah", he ascendes. literally. minimal contact with the mattress when his being raises in an attempt to escape you and get closer at the same time.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, hello!

Could I request Diluc, Kaeya and Thoma's s/o pushing them into her big bosom and petting their hair to help them relax?

there. really is no good way to say honkers is there bc theres smth about the word bosom that i dont like (in the same way people dont like moist)

Diluc didn't think he'd like being pressed up against you so intimately as much as he actually does. He knows he enjoys holding you, but he didn't know how much he loved being held by you.

His head rests against your chest, your warmth lulling him into relaxation as you run your fingers through your hair. He loves how plush your body is, so opposite to the hard muscle he has under the layers of his clothes.

Faster than either of you could have ever realised Diluc fell asleep against you, arms loosely wrapped around your waist as his breathing slows. You smile down at him, glad that you were able to relax him despite the almost crushing weight of his body against your chest.

Kaeya loves being held by you. He likes to bury his face in your chest and spoil you with kisses whenever you pull him into your lap. He's practically making puppy eyes at you the second he walks through the door after a hard day of work to get held by you, imaginary tail wagging the second you open your arms to him.

He also loves when you play with his hair, so now that you're combining both of the things he can't help but basically melt into your touch. It makes his brain stop, any sort of nerves or anxiety he normally feels gone as he relaxes in your embrace.

You will end up with a few marks on your chest after letting Kaeya sit with you, him always smiling innocently as though he wasn't the reason why you now had to make sure you had shirts with higher collars than usual.

Thoma's always a little flustered when you try to pull him into your lap. It's not anything bad - he just doesn't want to admit how much he loves being pressed against your body so intimately without coming off as too needy. He always becomes a stuttering mess when you try to offer, wanting to find any excuse despite deeply craving your touch.

When he's finally honest with himself he lets himself melt into your embrace. He finds it hard to keep his eyes open thanks to the warmth of your body, awkwardly adjusting himself until he finds the perfect way to sit with you without hurting either of you.

Now it's almost second nature for you to be able to coax him into your arms, gently running your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day. You're warm and comforting, and he's so glad he got over himself to spend time with you like this.

[savannahsdeath]

Hi <33 I love love love your writing and I really want your take on what fucking santa barbara!Ellie would be like if your up to it 🫶🫶

first of all THANK YOU💗💗 and yes ofc i tried my best !!

SANTA BARBARA!ELLIE X READER HEADCANONS + EXAMPLE ONESHOT

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut

writers note: its not like my typical hcs because this ones more like umm with plot?? idk how to say this but i hope ykwim😓ENJOY!!

🌿 she's definitely rough like im sure 100%

🌿 she would degrade you but she also praises you from time to time

🌿 now, hear me out, she doesnt have her usual smirk. like someeetimessss but mostly she looks so stern and focused youre literally scared to make a sound

🌿 she definitely doesnt care about making a mess. shed be sooo sloppy istg!!!!

🌿 she also doesnt care about whatever youre saying. she barely listens. everytime you hit her with a 'stop/too fast' she either completely ignores you or replies with some 'huh? what did you say?' and shed go even faster..

🌿 she def uses strap but also loves just using her fingers. she just wants to feel it ykwimmm

heres an example story(lets skip the plot)

its not really what i meant but whatever😓

You couldn't stop yourself from moaning, what seemed like an invitation for Ellie to shush you by pressing her lips to yours. It silenced you, but not stopped, as your inaudible groans were now caught in Ellie's throat.

You were unable to move, pressed against the wall, so she didnt need to hold you. With her free hands she started undressing you both, knowing you wont be able to do so by yourself. She didn't break the kiss though, only stopping for a second when she had to pull your shirt over your head and didn't have access to your face. She continued right after.

You're not sure when did you moved to the bed, but here you were, laying down beneath her.

She kissed your neck, leaving wet spots on it. She was moving down your body, as you played with her hair, shutting your eyes closed.

Not long after that, a few more of your body parts were red from her nibbling - inner thighs mostly.

Even though she took her time, it didn't take too long. She knew youre impatient and wasn't in mood to mess with you, not yet, not like that.

Soon after, she buried her face between your legs, planting the same messy kisses all over there.

Her hands were holding onto your thighs, preventing them from clenching. You knew her grip will leave bruises, painful ones too, but you didnt care.

Ellie's tongue was definitely doing a good job, playing with your clit, slidding in and out of your entrance.

Her fingers didn't loose up but her thumbs started gently tracing circles on your skin, which definitely made it seem less aggressive.

When she was finished with her mouth, one of her hands took the initiative. She was rubbing two of her fingers for a few short moments, before pushing them in.

You were finally able to see her face - her expression. She looked at you firmly, like one bad move could get you killed.

You were whining and whimpering, desperately begging her to slow down.

"Sh, shhh... Just take what youre given, will you?" The corners of her mouth moved slightly upwards, creating a little smile.

You nodded but continued squirming, your thighs trembling, breath shaking...

"Oh, dont be so dramatic. Youre doing good, you'll handle it, trust me." She reassuringly patted your side. "People survived worse things."

Did that help? Well...

But you knew its the best she can do when it comes to being nice. You couldnt blame her, not after you found out about her past. She killed more people than you ever talked with, after all..

Your mind went blank and you couldnt think of anything to say, so you kept mumbling the two words you always do - 'Ellie' and 'please'. At this point, it seems your mouth remembered how to say these. Your tongue knew exactly what to do to make them come out of your mouth, while it was struggling with any other word.

But it was enough for her to know what you want to say.

When youre finally done (she can tell youre close by the way you scream her name, so she knows when to go faster), she cleans you up with her toned expression.

"See? You'll live, atta fucking girl."

[justmeinatree]

Cocaine, Side Boob, …

Summary : harry wants to go to the beach. and there’s cocaine.

TW : smut, drugs, choking

Word Count : 2k

A/N : WTF YALL okay, i’ve been writing for literally years, i have so so many blurbs and some fully finished multi chaptered fics. i finally feel like i want to share some with you, so please be gentle !!! ✌️ also, i absolutely suck at endings dont come at me

“are we there yet ?” you grumble, stretching your neck. 

“keep driving,” harry mumbles, concentrated on the small tray he found god knows where in this van, tapping a bit of the white powder onto it.

“harrrryyyyy,” you whine. “i’ve been driving for hours. when you said you needed a break, i didn’t think you were gonna be snorting coke in my face.”

“would this make it better ?” he asks, large dimple-showing smile as his finger extends towards you, a small bit of powder on the tip.

“yes, yes it would. thank you honey,” you hum, inhaling the little bit of snowey white off his finger.

the year was 1968, you were with your boyfriend, harry, driving off to the beach. it sounded like a great idea when harry presented it to you this morning, all just “lets take off to the beach for the day, s’gonna be fun !”

and in retrospect, the fact that you lived absolutely nowhere near the beach would have been your first clue that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. but you were smoking your morning joint with him when he asked and well here you are. you’ve been holed up in harry’s van for the better part of the last 7 hours and the beach better be fuckin close.

“want more,” you hum, nodding towards his little tray, feeling your body relax a bit, the knots in your neck and shoulders seemingly not as bad.

“you’re driving,” harry looks at you incredulously. “can’t have my sweetie cakes crashing my van because she’s high on cocaine.”

“shoulda thought of that before tricking me into the longest stretch of driving so that you could get fucked up,” you scold him playfully, dipping your finger in the powder to sniff it yourself. “besides, i can see the water, if i crash now, at least the beach is walking distance.”

harry rolls his eyes at that, letting you be and watching you visibly relax the more substance you take. he gets cozy in his seat, just wearing an old pair of tattered and ripped light wash jean shorts and a bandana wrapped up on his head, keeping the stray flyaways out of his eyes.

his head rolls over to look at you, eyes raking over your body as the high has definitely hit him. his entire body feels like it’s floating. he notices the tan on your legs from the lengthy summer days spent enjoying the sun. you were also in ripped light wash jean shorts, albeit yours significantly shorter than harry’s.

his eyes continue their trail up your body, fingers reaching out to smooth his fingertips over your arm, sending a zap of electricity through his fingers. harry loves the effect you have on him. loves it even more when he’s high out of his brains, makes everything move slower, more intense. everything feels so much more too.

harry watches you stretch, your arm high above your head, hand gripping the awful orange shag carpet that lined the entire interior of the van. it may have been 1968, but even then, you find this van just awful. and harry knows it, loves teasing you about it.

it’s what harry notices next that makes him want to park this van right here, even if he can literally see the entranceway to the beach. your tanktop had ridden up, your stomach poking out the bottom and he wants to reach out for you so bad.

but as his eyes rake up towards your face, they settle on the view you’ve unknowingly given him. you obviously chose to forego a bra this morning, the arm hole on your loose tanktop having ridden a bit forward as you’re stretching and harry’s staring right at the swell of your breast, full side boob on complete display for harry’s hungry eyes. 

this time, he really can’t resist you even if he tried. the fogginess from the drugs on his brain making him lurch towards you, his teeth sinking into your soft skin, making you flinch.

“hey !” you scold playfully, giggling as you swat at his head. “m’trying to park this monstrosity of a vehicle and you’re biting my boob.”

“but look at it,” harry groans, and you can hear in his voice how gone he is. “s’calling my name, listen,” he adds in a hushed voice. “harry, harry, bite me,” he giggles, unable to even finish his own joke.

you roll your eyes at him, finding a good spot on the sand to park the van. you reach over for harry’s little tray, inhaling back one of the lines he’s already created. you feel like you need to catch up, watching him in that fuzzy, giggly phase and wanting nothing more than to join him in the basking glow of drugs.

“can i do something while you’re snorting that ?” harry asks, making you nod as he urges you to switch seats with him, getting cozy in the passenger seat as harry takes over the steering wheel, turning the van around so the back of the van faces the water.

“c’mon, not gonna stay holed up in the front,” he hums, nodding his head towards the back of the van, both of you climbing over the seats to open up the back doors.

the warm blast of beachy wind hits you both as the doors are swung open, the saltiness to the air invading your senses. by the time you were pulled up at the beach, the sun was already sitting low in the sky, sure to set within the next hour or two.

“so, you dragged us all the way here,” you giggle accusingly, absolutely no malice to your voice. “what do you wanna do first ?”

without a second thought, harry replies “you. m’so fuckin hard for you lovie.”

you know it’s the drugs talking, takes a lot more than a peak of side boob to get harry going that much, but the cocaine is hitting you both like a ton of bricks, the hot air making you feel the high even more, if at all possible. and now the more you think about it, the more the idea of harry’s hard cock splitting you open is probably the best offer you’ve had all day. 

his hand is roaming your side, slipped under your tanktop to feel your skin, as his mouth attaches itself to your neck, sucking soft kisses. 

you hum, nodding, unable to turn down the offer, your body feeling all of his touches so much more with the drugs fuzzing your brain. you register harry’s hands tugging on you to come straddle his thighs, which you do, quickly, wanting to feel his mouth on yours. 

his kisses are eager, full of clashing teeth and tongue swipes, hands buried into your hair to hold you as close as possible. you get completely lost in the kiss, unsure how long it’s been as your hips roll down on his throbbing cock.

you both moan loudly into each other’s mouths, the buzz in your body making that the most delicious bit of friction. you feel harry’s blunt nails digging into your skin, a small whimper coming from your throat.

his hands smooth over the crescent indents of his nails, mumbling an apology, “felt so good lovie, m’sorry. want more though, can you get up for me ?”

you stand between his legs and take note of how intense everything feels. the warm salty air, the taste of harry’s mouth lingering on your tongue, the golden hue of the impending sunset hitting the inside of the van, including harry’s face. the tingling static you feel all over your skin. and how harry’s hands have unbuttoned your jeans, slipping them down your legs.

“christ lovie, no underwear at all today, hmm?” he asks as his eyes make contact with your bare cunt, a strand of arousal still connected to your shorts as he pulls them down.

“s’the beach,” you shrug, too buzzed out to feel any embarrassment, knowing he loves it anyway.

“remind me to bring you to the beach more often then,” he hum, smiling at you cheekily, his hands coming back to rest on your hips. “turn around for me sweetheart, dont want you to miss the view,” he murmurs as he’s turning you around, bringing you back into his lap.

harry’s got your legs spread wide, on either side of his, your back pressed to his chest as he kisses your neck again, sucking soft bruises. his hands roam your inner thighs and you feel like complete jelly. you’re slumped back towards him, one hand reaching over to tangle into the back of his hair as a way to anchor yourself.

his hand grips his rock hard cock, lining himself up with you, thrusting upwards. the intrusion of his member making your head lull back onto his shoulder, giving you the opportunity to ravage at his neck.

you’re both so high and so sensitive, your impending orgasms are already approaching the more harry ruts his hips into yours. one hand comes down to rub at your clit, your head rolling forward again as you whimper.

“been so worked up lovie, m’not gonna last,” and you can hear the pain in harry’s voice, his body trying hard to fight off the orgasm that’s quickly approaching.

the sun is starting to set over the water, the last bits of warmth being felt on your skin as his other hand, the one not working your bundle of nerves, makes its way around your neck.

you groan loudly, harry’s fingers wrapping around your throat, “cum for me baby, need to feel you.”

that’s all it takes for the burning coil in the pit of your stomach to snap. your body trembling as your orgasm rips through you, harry’s hand tightening momentarily around your neck as his cock starts spurting thick white ribbons inside you.

you gasp for breath as he lets go of your throat, his hand gliding down your chest, slipping under your tanktop to keep feeling your skin. “so good lovie, so soft,” he hums slightly incoherently, his brain completely foggy. 

“fuck harry,” you mumble, leaning your head back against his shoulder to kiss his jaw. “can bring me to the beach any time.”

harry laughs against your shoulder, gripping into your hips to lift you off of him, a shudder making your body tremble as your pussy now clenches around nothing. you start to take note of the cooler air now that the sun is just dipping past the horizon.

“getting cold ?” harry hums, reaching behind himself to grip a knitted sweater and pull it up to cover you.

“thanks honey,” you smile, cuddling into him and the sweater, watching the pink hues in the sky. you take a moment to thank whatever force is on your side, the beach completely void of any other humans. you weren’t sure you’d really wanted a family walking by and seeing that.

“can we stay here tonight ?” you ask harry quietly. “would love to be able to get some sun, go in the water.”

“‘course,” harry nods against your neck, smiling as an idea pops into his mind. “dont have to wait for tomorrow to go in the water though.” he smirks at you, getting out of the van and dropping his shorts, running off into the water.

the sight of a naked harry running off into the water making you laugh loudly, shrugging his sweater off, along with your tanktop and running off after him towards the water. 

harry catches you in his arms when you’re both about waist deep in the water, lifting you and twirling you around. “love you so much sweetheart, no one i’d rather be here with.”

your heart bursts hearing him, moments like this burned on your brain. harry loves taking little soft moments with you to drop some of the sweetest things your ears have ever been blessed to hear.

you peck his lips, sucking softly on his bottom one, “never been so happy with anyone in my life.”

Part 2

……

masterlist

any and all feedback is welcomed. i hope everyone enjoyed ! i’ll post more blurbs soon ✌️

[queenofcoquette]

advice for teens

introduction:

hey loves! i know that being a teenager sucks, but i want to give some tips on what helps me. obviously some things might not apply to you and ik that we all have different lives. these are just general tips!

getting your priorities:

the first thing is thinking about what you need to focus on. such as:

doing your best in school

being involved in extracurriculars/sports

having hobbies

developing healthy habits

plan for the future! what're you going to do after high school? how can you accomplish that?

physical health:

STOP skipping breakfast! idc if ur short on time or don't have an appetite, me neither, but i always have oatmeal in the morning. it's quick, cheap and it doesnt make me feel nauseous. breakfast is important for your body so pls start ur day right.

make a workout routine. exercise is so good for your body, and starting now is easier than starting when ur older. i like to do home workouts, lift small weights and go on walks!

drink enough water! most americans are dehydrated so ik that this is a big problem. read about WHY you need to stay hydrated and what it does for your body, then get enough water.

getting enough sleep. ik life can get in the way, but if u just scroll on ur phone for hour instead of sleeping you need to work on that! go to bed earlier and earlier gradually.

go outside. get sunlight and fresh air everyday, sit in your yard or deck, or just open a window. but dont spend all day everyday cooped up in ur room.

mental health

keep a vent journal. THIS is so helpful. i use loose paper in a binder and whenever i get rlly stressed or just feel like shit i write down all of my negative thoughts. (then i throw it out) this helps you clear your head and regulate emotions so you can approach problems in a healthy way.

communication!!! learn to communicate with the people in your life- its crucial for all types of relationships. learn how to disagree in a respectful way, how to voice how you feel, etc.

obviously therapy is the best route but ik a lot of people either cant afford it or aren't allowed to receive it by their parents. :/

school:

have a to-do list

create a study routine that's attainable.

have a calendar to write down when you have tests, quizzes, etc.

research college admissions. create a plan.

join extracurrcular activities. good for college admissions and making friends.

avoid drama. this is obvious ig but just don't tell everyone your business, or your thoughts on every person/situation. drama just creates way too much stress. be mindful of who you hang out with and how you treat other people.

outside of school:

be aware. learn about whats going on in your country and in the world. dont be oblivious to current events and whats happening, pay attention!

reflect. i like to take time to reflect- i think about my goals and ask myself what steps im taking towards reaching them. i reflect on my behavior, how i can be a better person, how im feeling, etc.

have hobbies. find things you enjoy and can do in your spare-time. i spend a lot of my free time reading, sewing, or doing something along those lines and it makes me feel good.

getting a part-time job. getting a job helps you learn saving skills, real-world experience and is just good overall in the long run.

ik that being a teenager can be hard becuz ur emotions are all over the place, ur stressed about ur future and ur not a kid but also not an adult. it's a weird time but you can make it *better* through being healthier, being mindful and making good decisions. wishing u all the best :)

[weskin-time]

RE characters and their S/O go to a Halloween Party!

i love them and they are stuck in my brain!!! gifs not mine

Characters listed!- Leon, Wesker, Jill, Carlos, Chris

CW- nsfw implications, alcohol

i hope yall cant tell ive never been to a halloween costume party lol

Leon Kennedy!

goes as a cowboy

yeehaw

hes got fake spurs and everything

he pulls it off, hes already got the gruff look so damn

would love it if you dressed up western with him but understands if you dont wanna

at the party he stands close to you with his arm around your waist

cant have anyone think youre here alone, or that hes here alone

he gets a bit tipsy

he steals the almond joys

remember the cowboy rules, theyre so important (for those who dont know if you take the hat off a cowboy and wear it, you have to save a horse and ride a cowboy wink wink)

if you want to leave the loud party early just take off his hat and wear it

he will get so flustered and red instantly

not a heartbeat later hes already dragging you out of the party, making hurried goodbyes and poor excuses of having something to do in the early morning

but people see the hat on your head and know

Albert Wesker!

no

hes not dressing up

,,, stop looking at him like that

...fine.

he 'wont make a fool of himself for the Umbrella Halloween party' he says

he honestly hasnt even gone to it before dating you so people are surpised to see him there

you put cat ears on his head before he can pick out a costume and he sends you a soft death glare

more than likely would wear a pin that says 'this is my costume' and hes just wearing everyday clothes, or would wear his lab coat and say hes going as a doctor. hes lame

if you bat your eyes and pout he will indulge you

goes as a vampire, fake cape, teeth, and all

would want to just show up at the party and make an irish goodbye in less than 5 minuets

stays for you tho

doesnt eat candy but you see him pocketing some mars bars

wesker with fangs is hot and he notices you staring at them when hes talking

smirks and tells you he 'doesnt bite'

its a lie, he does. and will bite your neck.

Jill Valentine!

gods im in love with her

she goes as a witch!!

cute witch hat and all

would accidentally loose you in a party for a little bit, shes just getting yall drinks so dont worry

she will do your makeup for your costume if you want (like that one meme of the two women)

she gets a little tipsy at the party, just enough to start giggling at any halloween pun you make

normally she just scoffs at them but shes having fun and enjoying herself with her beloved

shoves food in her bag, stealing some of the party food

help her please

the kit kats are hers

the more she drinks the more touchy she is with you, going from being sober and holding your hand to leaning up against you

someone asks if shes a witch wheres her broom she rides on and she just points to you much to your embarassment

tell her youll take her up on that and she will start to leave without saying goodbye to anyone

Carlos Oliveria!

hes a werewolf

theres no convincing him of anything else

he would go shirtless to show off his hairy chest and arms and would love how flustered you get at the idea

you shut him down really fast and make him wear a shirt because you would explode

wears a tattered, ripped up and slightly blooded tank top with a torn red flannel on top

its somehow more hot than him being shirtless

wears cute little clip on dog ears

my gods hes so hot hhhh

is also stealing party food

hes a snickers kinda guy but if theres fruit gummies they will be gone

i think he could hold his alcohol well so you would be more tipsy than him if you chose to drink

he makes the dumbest jokes, like really corny halloween jokes to anyone who will listen

"whats a skeletons favorite meal? spare ribs" he will be holding back a snicker with a face thats just >:3

hes such a dork

Chris Redfield!

hes wearing his sailor costume

im not saying this because his ass looks amazing in that outfit but

i feel like he does it as a joke at first but then flaunts it

compliment him and he will jokingly flex his biseps

please help him put on his fake tattoo (plus it gives you a chance to touch his muscles)

literally everyone is looking at him when he enters the party who wouldnt

i feel like he wouldnt drink that much, prob just have one or two shots or something

if you loose him at any point in the party please either check outside or the food table

he takes the twizzlers

100% has an arm around your shoulders or waist all night

will tease you because you keep looking at his legs

im sorry i love him so much he makes me so gay

he would love it if you walked up to him and just started to flirt with him

who cares if youre together, its so fun

"i seemed to misplaced my anchor,,, can i hook up with you tonight?" you ask him to which he almost spits out his drink, starts laughing, then sees in your eyes that youre not fully joking and he will instantly start making his goodbyes

---------------------------------------------

Hiya! this is my first time writing for all of these characters except for Wesker so im sorry if it seems ooc or just not fully correct!! im still new to resident evil and im trying to shove as much information as i can into my brain as fast as i can!!

reblogs help me grow more so if you like this please reblog and like! thank you and happy halloween!!!!

[awfcspencer]

Christmas Lights || leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x reader

prompt: Going to see christmas lights with Leah

warnings: slight mention of Leahs’s injury, fluff, kissing

a/n: getting close to christmas! enjoy! dont forget to drink water & eat, get a good nights rest, all the sorts.

Entering December, the temperature in north London dropped dramatically. The leaves have fallen, leaving the trees bare. Pulling into your shared home with Leah, you notice that surrounding neighbors have began putting up Christmas lights, some having extremely elaborate decorations.

“Hey baby, I am home” you yell towards your living room where Leah is sat watching a Christmas movie.

“Hi baby” she says as she goes to greet you and pull you in for a quick kiss. “I made some hot chocolate when I got home from training to warm up.”

Making your way to the kitchen, you make yourself a cup and turn towards her, “How was training?”

“It was good, I was able to run today and kick a few balls today!” she says as you can see Leah truly smile. When she tore her ACL, you could tell Leah was slightly lost without football and it was hard for her to not be able to play. Nothing made you more excited and emotional thinking about her return to the pitch.

“Good baby, I am so happy and proud of you. What are the plans for tonight?” you ask as you do not particularly recall any specific plans but seeing the Christmas lights on your way in has an idea occurring in your mind.

“We don’t have any prior plans, what were you thinking baby?” she asks with a bit of question in her voice.

“Lets go downtown and look at the Christmas lights.”

Leah is immediately excited, Christmas has always held a special place in Leah’s heart and she loved any chance she got to engage in any Christmas related activities. “What a great idea! We will need to put on a few more layers though” she says as she looks down and she is only in your jumper and some basic black shorts.

Quickly running upstairs and throwing on your large black puffer jacket, Leah puts on a pair of black pants with a white long sleeved body suit, and finished it off with a black puffer as well. You make sure to grab some gloves and a beanie for yourself.

“Ready to go baby?” you ask her.

“Yes baby, let’s go! I am so excited!” Leah says with a large smile as you know this has been on her list of to-dos for a bit now. Hoping to spend some quality time with you as both of you have been a bit busy during the Christmas time.

You knew a spot that has several beautiful lights located in a nearby park. The drive was fairly quick as Leah tended to disobey every traffic law and speed like her life depended on it. Although you genuinely fear for your life at times when she is behind the wheel, she typically has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, you couldn’t imagine anything hotter so you let her drive as she wanted. Always her passenger princess with no complaints.

Pulling into a parking spot near the entrance, Leah jumps out of the car, excitement taking over her, acting like a kid who was let loose in a candy store.

“Come on baby!” she whined, pulling your hand, ushering you faster.

“Baby I promise you, the lights are not going anywhere” you tell her but it is in one ear and out the other for Leah.

Leah is a woman on a mission, guiding you to the entrance and quickly pays the admission fee.

“Baby I was going to pay!” you whine, always feeling back whenever Leah pays for you.

“I am just trying to get us in before New Years” she says impatiently, forcing you to laugh.

Walking through the guided path, hand in hand, Leah and you take your time looking at each light display, taking in each fixture. There were not many people left in the park as it was starting to get a bit late. There is light snow falling from the sky now.

“It is like a Christmas miracle baby!” Leah beams as this is possibly the most perfect night. The snow falling mixed with the lights, made your Christmas spirit flourish.

Right before exiting the park, there is an arch wishing you both a merry Christmas. Leah pulls you under the arch and points upwards, “Look baby.”

You look up and see small mistletoe. Immediately you pull Leah in for a sensual kiss. The kiss lasting probably longer than it should, you pull away to catch your breath.

“Alright baby, let’s keep it PG in a public park.” you laugh out and interlock your hands, heading towards the car.

“Tonight was really special babe, I loved it!” Leah said to you.

“I am glad you enjoyed baby.” you smile at her, heart full.

[starlightsearches]

requesting reader asking bf eddie to do his eyeliner n he says yes but only if they will sit on his lap while doing it!! if it gets spicy i absolutely dont mind!! also no rush!!!

AO3 Request: What about one where the reader is painting Eddie’s nails black for him after watching him struggle and somehow in between them drying they start making out and it turns a little NSFW and something about “Don’t, you’ll fuck the paint up.”

Looks That Kill

Thanks for the request, friends, and even more thanks for your patience!! Hope you enjoy 😚

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warnings: very very horny but not really smutty (18+ only please), language, Eddie is a SIMP always and forever, hints at sub! eddie, finger sucking, I know licking nail polish to smooth is out is gross but sometimes it's just what you do, okay??, mentions of impact play, some unfortunate cockblocking, and i think that's it! If I missed anything let me know uwu

"Jesus- fuck."

The eyeliner pencil slips from Eddie's fingers, again, clattering against the basin of the sink and leaving little black smudges around the porcelain before it slowly comes to a stop. He rubs the matching smudge off the corner of his eye with his thumb, smearing black down his cheek.

Normally, this is the point where he'd give up. If this were a gig at The Hideout, he wouldn't have even bothered to try with the makeup— would have rolled out of bed an hour before, still half high for another fucking show of watered-down covers.

But this is not just some show.

"You good, Eds?"

Your head pops into the shitty motel bathroom, drying your nails with pursed lips painted dark, perfectly-lined eyes meeting his own. Eddie shivers like you’ve got your hands on him, even though it's just the slow up and down trace of your eyes.

He knows what the look you give him means. You're trying to figure out what his problem is.

There's an immediate reminder of the secret he's been trying to keep from himself—that he's got more to be nervous about than this show and maybe a record deal and trying to put a little, black crayon by his eyeball.

"How do you even do this shit?" Eddie asks, holding the eyeliner in a tight fist like he's trying to choke it.

"It just takes practice."

You lean up against the door frame, unphased, because nothing ever gets to you. Not nerves, not shitty guys at shows, not late nights spent driving or hours in the van with nothing to look at but corn fields.

With Eddie, it's the opposite. Everything gets to him. Especially you.

He knew it was a bad idea, letting you take Grant’s spot when he went off for college. The guys were a second family to him, and the idea of replacing any of them always felt weird, like finding out your dad has a new girlfriend, and he wants you to call her mom.

But Corroded Coffin needed a bassist. And you could play—could play so good he’s pretty sure he’s been in love with you since that first note hit him in the chest.

It doesn't help that you're so fucking pretty, with your over the knee boots and those short, short skirts and fishnet tights that have him biting into the meat of his palm when you're not looking.

It doesn't help that Jeff and Gareth know way too much about his little problem, and still took the other room, leaving him high and dry.

"I don't have time for practice," he grumbles, mostly to himself, capping the eyeliner again and planting his hands against the counter.

It's not like anybody in the crowd would care if he had eyeliner on or not. Openers never got that much attention anyways. The record studio guy might be too high to even notice the name of the band, let alone what any of you looked like.

But Eddie cares. When he steps out on that stage, he wants to feel like he belongs there.

He catches you staring at him in the mirror, chewing pensively on your bottom lip, brushing a few hairs back behind your ear. You've got it just barely secured—like you always do before a show—knowing by the end of it you'll have all the loose strands sticking to your sweaty skin, making sure that everybody in the audience (and at least one of the guys on stage) can't think about anything else but fucking you.

There's a moment of prolonged eye contact between you that has Eddie glad the shirt he's wearing is black, so you won't see him sweat.

You push off the wall behind you, sliding up beside him at the counter. "Scoot over."

Eddie does, watching you take a little hop up onto the counter, shimmying the hem of your dress back down over your thighs, the fabric tight enough when you spread your legs he wonders if it'll pop at the seams.

Jesus.

"C'mere."

And Eddie gets what's going on—or he thinks he does—but it's like he can't get his legs to listen, stumbling toward you like a baby deer until his legs are just brushing your knees.

You roll your eyes at him. "Closer."

He lets out a little yelp when you tug at his wrist, pulling him in, widening your legs until there's enough room for his hips. There's a quiet sound, like fabric tearing, but maybe that's just leftover brain-rot from all the porn he watched in high school.

Your thighs close around his hips, and they're so fucking pillowy, molding against him. One of your ankles curls around the back of his knee. Eddie wonders if you can feel how close he is to buckling.

You're so fucking chill about it all, though, taking the eyeliner in one hand, gripping his chin in the other until you're almost nose to nose. It's just clouds of your shampoo and the smell of cherry-scented lip gloss Eddie'd snatched from the counter the second you stepped out of the room. Spread over the back of his hand, watched it shine in the light before immediately licking off. He needed to know what it tasted like.

You've got the pad of your thumb pressed into the soft skin under his eye, swiping away the evidence from one of his hundred other attempts.

"Look up," you tell him, catching his lashes gently under your finger when he obeys, "and stay still."

He's got no other choice. Eddie knows if he makes the slightest move, he'll feel your body move against his, and that'll have him popping a boner so fast he might lose consciousness.

One eye, and then the other—you swipe the pencil around his lash line so fast it would make him dizzy if he dared to look. The cap snaps back over the top of the eyeliner, and you drop it back into the bag.

"All done, rockstar," you tell him with a tap on the cheek, "check yourself out."

Eddie leans around you, trying to get a good look in the mirror, but his balance is all off. He's gonna fall on his ass, a thought almost too embarrassing to name, and he catches himself on the closest thing he can grab at.

Your thigh dents too pretty underneath his fingers, the backs of his rings snagging against one of the strings on your fishnets.

Fuck. Eddie's gotta play it off or he'll look like a tool—fucking about to faint because a girl is touching him—which means he's gotta keep his hand there, even if his vision is going dark at the edges. He can hardly see his own reflection.

"What d'you think?" he asks instead.

You're smiling, but in that way that has Eddie questioning everything you say, like it's all some fucked up riddle designed to torture him.

"It's sexy, Eds. You look great."

He just rolls his eyes. It's sexy, Eds. You're so fucking sexy, Eddie, and I need you to take me on this motel bathroom sink and fuck me for hours or I'm gonna claw my eyes out.

Yeah right. In his dreams, maybe.

But you didn't push his hand away, either. Let him cop a feel and you didn't even shrink away from him, or hurl. So maybe he's just being a mean little bitch to himself for the fun of it.

"Anything else?"

Yeah, Eddie thinks, slap me hard across the face then kiss it better.

But that's not really in the cards for tonight, so his eyes flash around the bathroom, landing on the black bottle of polish you brought in with you. Eddie raises his free hand, the one not on your thigh—which will stay there until he dies if he gets his way—spreading his fingers wide. "How 'bout a manicure?"

Your fingers grip at Eddie's hand, coating each of his nails with one clean swipe of the polish, breathing in deep and slow while the room floods with the scent of acetone.

"Blow," you command, placing his nails in front of his lips before you grab the other hand. Eddie's more than happy to do what he's told.

He watches you, watches the way your brows knit together, totally focused on perfection.

"You know," —your breath puffs against his knuckles, voice all quiet, "you don't need any of this shit, right? You're gonna blow it out of the fucking water, like you always do."

Eddie hopes his nails are dry already, because he's got no more breath in his lungs, just barely managing to gasp out a word.

"Oh."

You glance up at him through your lashes, and past your cool exterior and the twenty layers of apathetic irony bassists always seem to have, he knows you mean it.

Eddie flinches, hand slipping against yours. When you pull back, there's a big black smear across your thumb.

"Oh, damn, sorry."

He's left a dent in the polish on his middle finger, pushed some of the already-dry paint around until a sliver of his real nail was visible beneath.

"Don't worry about it."

If Eddie had a thousand years and unlimited guesses, he still wouldn't have come up with what you do next—taking his middle finger in your hand, pulling it toward your lips.

Your mouth is wet, and warm around his finger, and maybe Eddie moans when you suck at his skin but the roaring in his ears is too loud for him to be sure. All he knows is that he'll never need another dirty magazine or porno for the rest of his life. He's gonna be jerking off to this exact feeling forever.

Your tongue drags flat across his nail, and when you pull the digit from your mouth—all wet and shiny with your spit and stained purple with lipstick—the polish looks good as new.

"Tastes like shit, but it works," you tell him, leaning over to spit in the sink.

There's a smirk on your lips when you turn back to face him. Eddie feels like such an idiot.

All those times you'd bent over in those short skirts, gripped at his thigh while you reached for a pencil, or one of those discarded pages of lyrics on his bedroom floor and he'd sit there, staring at the ceiling and trying to name all the state's capitals so he wouldn't be sporting a boner hard enough you could see it through his jeans.

You were fucking with him this entire time.

He could have been fucking you this entire time.

"Jesus," he says, "you're a fucking tease."

You smile wider, tightening the grip of your thighs. "Maybe I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to get the fucking hint."

Eddie braces himself against the counter with both hands when he leans forward, nudging your mouth towards his with the tip of his nose and just diving in, no backup plan, no parachute. He's all in, crushing his body against yours until his hips ache against the sharp edge of the counter.

You're kissing him back, cupping your palms around his jaw, smearing that cherry lip gloss all around his mouth with the way you get into it. Breathing heavy against his cheek, slipping your tongue past his lips and tapping it against the edge of his teeth.

He grabs at your thighs—desperate and totally indifferent if you know it—pulling at you until your hips bump against his, skirt riding up again until it's sitting in the dip between your stomach and the tops of your thighs.

He slides a hand up the lattice of your tights, climbing higher and higher, so close to your cunt he can feel the heat caught up in the space between your legs.

You drop a hand from his face, press against his wrist, gasping out the words between the harsh crush of his mouth.

"Don't. You'll fuck up the paint."

Eddie shakes his head. "Don't care."

You pull back, scrunching your nose at him indignantly.

"I do."

There's a knock on the door, timing so perfect it's like you summoned it. Gareth's voice calls out through the thin walls, saying something along the lines of, "showtime, motherfuckers."

"Fuck that," Eddie lets out a hard sigh through his nose as you slide off the counter, but he makes space for you to slip out from between his arms. He watches you, leaning back against the counter while you wipe off the smeared lipstick with a washcloth, moving in close to reapply.

He couldn't give two shits about the show now.

You snap the cap back on the tube, hand him the stained rag so he can clean himself up. It turns his skin red where he rubs at the sticky stain, but he gets his first real glance at the eyeliner. It looks pretty metal.

You catch Eddie by the collar just before he's about to step out of the bathroom, two fingers sliding against his skin, pulling him close.

"Listen," —and Eddie is, feeling your lipstick brushing over the shell of his ear— "you get us this record deal, and you can do whatever you want to me tonight."

[bearw-me]

Post-extermination!Lute x fem reader? Where lute is trying to show that she's still good/strong enough for reader and she can still be independent. Along with reader comforting Lute about how she's still perfect for her. (Details and examples below bc i enjoy rambling sorry)

I imagine that after loosing her arm lute would be very showy about overcompensating for it. And that if reader even tried to treat her bit differently, like being more SLIGHTLY gentle/careful with her, lute would get offended tell her to knock it off.

Lute's a strong woman, pre-extermination her carried reader alllll the time. Post-extermination Lute would most certainly still try too (and surprisingly succeeds somehow) despite the reader's worries of being dropped or being too heavy for 1 arm.

This ranges from trying to hold all the groceries alone to trying to prove she's still good in the bedroom by not allowing the reader to help (like she'd literally tell reader to let her do it alone)

I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

dont apologize for requesting! i adore long requests! they have all the little details for the prompt included that make the story just- *chefs kiss*

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐨 𝐈𝐭 — 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𐐒 includes : post-extermination!lute x fem!reader 𐐒 cw : fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blood/stitches/wounds 𐐒 summary : lute's adjusting to life after extermination day, and as her girlfriend, you hope to make it easier on her 𐐒 note : i don't even know what to call my rambling anymore lol, love it

like we all saw at the end of the season, lute is full or rage- and a little hurt

the loss of her arm, initially, didn't hurt as much as losing her best friend

it takes longer for her to heal and accept the sudden turn of events

she doesn't want it to stop her or hold her back, especially from her relationship with you (especially with the loss of adam) she'd want to hold on tight to you

(like in the ask) Lute isn't one to just be beaten down by this, its a challenge she's going to fking overcome-by herself

likes to do things for YOU instead of the other way around, like if you want a snack or something she won't even let you stand up (let alone THINK) about grabbing it yourself

definitely wouldn't tell you about how she feels unless its too much, but you can see it in her; the way she's sluggish or looking down more often.

(although im not sure atm) I assume Lute is right-handed; without the left, things can get a bit trivial at times

like when you watch her try to balance her long spear with one arm, the weight of the steel trembling between her fingers. the muscles in her arms not used to carrying the entire weight by itself

Lute carrying you with one arm: she tries like how she used to, by putting an arm under your arms to support your back-but stops when she realizes she cant pick you up bridal style

I think she could manage holding you that way, around your back if you also hold onto her by wrapping your arms around her shoulders

(on this note) you being so close to her face is the perfect opportunity for her to kiss you

Hugging her from the back is not happening- her wings and all. . .

If you tried to help her take care of her arm too; bandaging it or cleaning it; she'd refuse all help and lock herself in the bathroom until she's handled it herself

(you can hear a ton of mumbled swearing and things knocking around)

its not a you thing, its a her thing; she needs to prove to herself that she can do it

Lute would hate all the flowers the other exterminators would get her; to the point she wouldn't even acknowledge the roses you placed on her nightstand

she's too stubborn to ever say it, but she's thankful you're still with her: Lute giving you soft kisses when she thinks your asleep, whispering all the 'thank you's' she doesn't think she could ever say to you awake

The loss of her arm pushes her to work harder, especially on the arm she still has in order to compensate for what happened

Technically, the hell-spawn didn't take her arm, but they still took a lot from her- she doesn't want that to mean they could take you from her too

You bet your ass the day will come where she picks up that spear again, better than fucking ever

[ghostphobic]

╼ you’re in love

abby anderson x reader

cw - fluff , mutual pining , angst if you squint , slight infidelity 

a/n - goddddd it’s been ages since i’ve written any fic, but i was up at like 2 am last night listening to music on spotify and got hit with inspiration. it’s short and sweet, but it’s the first thing i’ve written in, im not even sure how long, that i dont absolutely hate. so enjoy !

Abby Anderson was your sure thing in a world where nothing was ever certain. She was something solid and steady; an anchor in the middle of a violent ocean. You were the same thing to her. You were her best friend and she was yours, and you were sure without her you'd be lost. 

Which is why you had decided to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when you see her. It's why you had decided to ignore the tightness in your chest when you see her with Owen. You wouldn't ruin your friendship with her over feelings you weren't even sure you understood. You wouldn't ruin her relationship with Owen either, because at the end of the day Owen made her happy. Her happiness always came before yours, you made sure of that. 

But you were grateful for the little moments when it was just the two of you. Rare nights when neither of you had anywhere to be, and the two of you could just enjoy each other's company before you went to sleep.

Tonight is one of those nights. 

Abby sits on the floor in front of your bed, a book in her lap, while you gently brush through the wet strands of her hair. She hasn't turned the pages in a few minutes and you're sure her eyes are probably closed. 

"Abs?" You say softly. "Come on let's get some sleep." 

She responds with a hum, closing her book and sitting it on the ground beside her so she can crawl into the bed beside you. There's a long, comfortable, stretch of silence once she settles in. Then, "Have you ever been in love?" 

Your heart speeds up at her question, not knowing how to answer. You clear your throat before you speak, knowing that it would crack otherwise. "Where did that come from?" 

She shrugs, "I'm just curious I guess." 

It's not just curiosity. She'd seen you earlier when you were in line grabbing dinner for the two of you, laughing at something the man behind you had said. It was clear he was flirting, and to her it seemed like you enjoyed it. The sight making her so sick she had to turn away. The same way she had felt sick and looked away any time you showed romantic interest to any person in the several long years you'd known her. She chalked it up to friendly jealousy. You were just important to her, and she didn't want to share you. That's all it was. Right? It didn't matter that Owen talking to girls had never made her feel that way. You were just... different. 

You look away from her, deciding that the loose thread on your blanket is much more interesting than her face. "I don't think so. I don't know. I guess I don't really know what loving someone like that would feel like." 

It's a lie. You know it's a lie. You're pretty sure the way you feel about Abby is love. Sure, you love her as your best friend. But it goes beyond friendly love. The way you feel about her is something you're not even sure you could put into words. You just feel it. You just know, as much as you wish you didn't. 

"What do you think it feels like?" 

You shrug, "I think it depends. If you're talking about being in love, I guess I believe everyone would define it differently. To me I think it's... a warm feeling. It feels like sunlight. It feels like butterflies in your stomach. It claws at your chest. It's euphoric but terrifying. It's terrifying because one singular person holds your heart in their hands. I think it's a feeling that people would kill for. A feeling people would die for." 

There's a another stretch of silence until you will yourself to look up at her. The expression on her face is unreadable, and you think you've made her uncomfortable. 

You haven't. Not in the slightest. You don't notice the way her breathing has sped up, or the way her face is flushed. You aren't aware that what you just said has terrified her. Terrified her because she doesn't feel that way about Owen. 

She feels that way about you.

"Abby?" You say, your voice just a whisper.

Her brows furrow and you think she's mad, but then she places a hand on your cheek and leans down to press her lips to yours. 

It shocks you at first, but then you're kissing her back. It's gentle and slow and it makes your heart pound against your chest in a way that you're sure can't be healthy. In this moment you've never been more sure that you're in love with her. She's never been more sure that she's in love with you. 

She pulls back just enough to press her forehead to yours. "That's exactly what it feels like." 

[devildomditzy]

“I can’t take you seriously.” For Diavolo cus i dont take him seriously (in a good way tbh) 🍨👹

You stare ahead at the demon prince in front of you as he downs his ice cream faster than you think you’ve ever seen done before. Honestly, it was kind of impressive.

It was anyone’s guess as to what he said to Barbatos to let him meet you alone at Madame Screams for what he referred to as an “ice cream social”. You’d bet money that he didn’t tell Barbatos, and the poor butler is currently running around like a hell hen with it’s head cut off looking for him.

You’d accepted his invitation, first; because you figured there would be consequences of some kind for saying no to the next lord of hell, second; because you figured the ‘social’ part of the ice cream social meant everyone would be coming. But no, you find yourself alone with the ruler of the entire realm in the center of a small cafe. A human and demon royalty, both currently being gawked at by every patron and the entire staff alike.

You don’t blame them. It’s probably not every day that they see the effective ruler of their government in person, let alone chowing down on a sundae like his life depended on it. But, you’d be lying if you said the stares weren’t starting to make you uncomfortable.

Diavolo gives a hardy laugh from his seat, startling you out of your concentration on his speedy consumption. Gosh, if he didn’t slow down, you were sure he was gonna choke.

“Isn’t this wonderful, MC? Just you and I enjoying ourselves out in the public! Now I know what it must feel like for regular citizens of the Devildom to ‘get out of the house’ so to say!”

You give a forced chuckle, trying your best to sound sincere. “Yeah, totally. This is…exactly how that feels.”

You try not to make eye contact with the people gathered around the two of you, but it’s almost impossible as they take out their D.D.D’s to film and photograph the two of you. You were starting to feel like a caged animal, and you wonder briefly if this is what the prince felt like at all times.

The notion begins to make you upset, but before you can dwell on it, you look up to find Diavolo smiling back at you, remnants of his ice cream attached to his upper lip in a pseudo mustache. You can’t stop the laugh that jumps forward from deep in your chest.

“May I know what you find so humorous?”, he questions, childlike wonder abundant behind his eyes. “I always love a good laugh!”

You wipe a small tear that formed in the corner of your eye away before speaking. “It’s just… I can’t take you seriously!”

His face drops instantly, and your blood freezes. Upsetting the leader hell was not on your to do list for the day, and you did not want to find out what it means if you do.

You begin to backpedal to the best of your ability, not wanting to get throwing into jail. Jail in hell was probably worse then regular jail. It was probably like, super jail. You don’t want to go to super jail in hell.

But before you can begin to flounder, Diavolo bursts into another good natured chuckle. “Good! I’m glad!”

You stare at him, shock and confusion perfectly married in your expression. “I’m sorry…you’re glad?”

He shakes his head fondly before continuing. “MC, can I be honest with you? When everyone around you holds you to such high standards at all times, it can become a bit…”

He seems to be searching for the right word, so you offer up the one that flashes through your mind.

“Draining?”

“Yes! Draining. That’s why I asked you to sneak out with me! I knew you wouldn’t make too much of a fuss being seen with me.” He puts his head on his hand, a warm smile gracing his features. “I feel like I can let loose with you around.”

“Oh!”, you light up in surprise. It hits you then how scary it must be to have to lead a whole dimension of demonic folk. Having everyone look to you for all the answers, having to make all the tough decisions. Then there was Lucifer and Barbatos, always expecting him to act regal, and uphold some airy sense of authority. The prince certainly did not have it easy.

“Then, I’m glad I could be of service. Let’s do this again some time, Lord Diavolo.”

“Please, call me Dia.”

“Okay”, you giggle, “Let’s do this again some time, Dia.”