#i mean i hope i don’t completely lose my old interests :(

[bearambles]

ARUGUMENT FIC W HAMZAH PLEASE like gets into an argument and you need to cool off and leave and he won’t let you jus angst 👅👅

jealous

(hamzahthefantastic)

words: 1.9k

warnings: established relationship, angst, arguing, swearing, hamzah is kinda a pos, happy ending

note: i hope this is what you were hoping for! i could also 100% write a part 2. also, i think another anon recently requested an argument fic, so there might be another one coming bc it was honestly fun to write. love u all, more fics coming soon

hamzah is driving you insane.

he’s usually not the “jealous type”, but for some reason, today is different. he’s grumpy and pissy and you think you know why.

last night you had gone out to dinner with a few friends from your old school. you weren’t out late, and the group was only about ten people, but to his dismay, your ex boyfriend was one of them.

you told him about it as soon as you knew, and he was pretty passive as soon as he heard. still, he didn’t make too big of a deal, even when you wore your skimpy little outfit to the bar. after all, it was high school. besides, he trusts you.

that was until he saw the pictures. your exs hand on your waist. the way he’s next to you in the group photo. it all really pisses him the fuck off, and even when you swear to him it meant nothing and the guy didn’t mean it, he wasn’t so sure.

“y/n, you see this guy after like five years, you look fine as fuck wearing that tiny fucking skirt, and you think he won’t be into you?”

you scoff, your chest now rising and falling. you really never pegged hamzah as the type of guy to act like this. yet here he was, standing in your bedroom, a few feet away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.

you’d crawled into bed last night to him asleep, and the two of you had been completely fine until this morning. he woke up to see your friend post on instagram about the night prior. he scrolled through her photos before finding the ones of the whole group.

“okay, so it’s my fault if he was?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you meant it though!” you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated. “listen, i already told you it was nothing. but if it wasn’t, if he was interested, it doesn’t matter, because im dating you.”

he smiles tightly and shakes his head, the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

“sure. okay. yeah.”

“you think i’d cheat?”

you stare at him, your blood pressure rising. you can’t believe the way he’s acting. the shit he’s implying you’d do.

“i never fucking said that, y/n. i’m just saying he was touchy, and you won’t admit it.”

“it was one fucking photo! he happened to be next to me! where did you want him to put his hands?”

“anywhere else! not your waist! it’s fucking weird!”

“so you’re mad at me because of the way a guy acted towards me.” you say, sitting down on your bed and mimicking his move of crossing his arms. “that’s really fucking progressive of you.”

“oh my god, you know that’s not true. jesus christ. i’m not mad, im just fucking annoyed. and i don’t like how you acted either.”

“how did i act hamzah. you weren’t even fucking there.” you start to feel tears prick your eyes. you hate crying in front of him, you rarely do. but this was so frustrating, listening to him accuse you when you only love him.

“i still saw.” he mumbles, clearly losing what he was trying to say in the first place. he’s just spitballing stuff at this point.

he isn’t even looking at you any more. his eyes meet the floor and he’s breathing so hard you can hear it just barely. he’s close enough to where you could reach out to his arm and pull him on top of you. you won’t though.

“saw what? my tiny skirt?” you laugh, baffled. “just leave me alone.” you can feel some of the tears start to fall.

he looks up at you when he hears your voice break. his eyes soften their gaze but he stays where he’s standing. it’s silent for a moment before you speak again.

“go away, hamzah.” you say, moving your position to lay down, your face turned away from him.

“no. i wanna talk.”

you’re silent.

“y/n-“

“i said go away.” you mumble between sobs.

you’re stiff for a long moment before you hear him sigh. he turns and leaves your room, and you wait till you hear the door click before really letting yourself sob.

you’d dealt with this in the past - controlling relationships where anything you did around any ex was considered suspicious. in fact, you almost didn’t go last night. but you’d wanted to catch up with your old friends. if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have had your ex there either. he was a total jerk back in the day. but he was, and it was fine. you’d barely spoken outside of taking that group picture.

you don’t want to fight with hamzah. he’s your person. but the way he’s acting is scary.

eventually you decide you need some air. you get dressed, throw on some makeup, and head out the door. you don’t know where you’re going, but you know it needs to be away from here. away from him.

he jumps up from the couch and catches your wrist right before you can turn the knob. you whip your head around, and meet his eyes. he looks just as pissed as before.

“where are you going?” he asks, still gripping you hard

“what, do i need your permission to leave the fucking house now?” you bite back, wriggling our arm free, “get off me. i’ll be back later.”

he starts to protest, but you slam the door before you hear any of it. if you had any fucks left to give, youd tear up again. at this point though, you’ve had enough. if he wanted to be like this, you weren’t gonna entertain it.

the city’s relatively walkable, so that’s what you do. there’s plenty of stuff to do around the area. retail therapy, you think. whatever makes you forget about this argument for a while.

-

it’s late when you walk home. later than the night before, and later than you’d ever been out without calling. you and hamzah had one another’s location, so really, he could see anytime where you were. which was the outdoor mall, and then the local bar. you’d only had a few drinks, but you were there for a good two hours. just talking and talking to the bartender. you guys are friends, and she was a good listener. so she listened.

“he’s just being so mean. and like, he’s never mean. sometimes we argue and stuff, but it’s always over stupid stuff, you know? and like, we make up super quick. but he’s like, so mad at me. and i swear to god, i didn’t even do anything.”

“it’s his first real relationship, right?” she asks, while pouring a drink

“yeah. i guess maybe that’s why. i just like, never thought he’d be like this. all jealous.”

“i think most guys are, honestly. or at least, the insecure ones. either way though, he shouldn’t be acting that way. i’m glad you got out to clear your head.”

you nod and take a sip. you’re tipsy, you realize. it actually feels pretty nice though. letting loose to someone like this. you should be talking to hamzah, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen. you sigh and shake your head like it’ll clear the thoughts away.

when you walk through the door, the house is silent. it’s nearly one am, so you assume at first that hamzah fell asleep. that is until you’re going to hang your jacket up and hear him open the bedroom door. you press your eyes closed, ready for the reprimanding.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

you turn around to face him, and his eyebrows are knit together. he’s in the doorway, his arms crossed and his back against the doorframe. he chews at his lip.

“sorry.” you mumble, going to take your shoes off.

“sorry?” he scoffs, uncrossing his arms and using them as he speaks, “you were out for hours, y/n!”

“i told you i’d be back later.” you don’t look at him, don’t step forward. you stand there, your arms pressed against our chest, holding yourself tight.

“that’s all i get then? not even a text? what the fuck, y/n.” his nostrils flare as he talks, and he starts moving closer to you. “I had no idea if you were safe! you could have gotten fucking killed.”

you laugh, moving your head back like you can’t believe what he’s saying. though honestly - he’s right. the city can be sketchy, especially at night. you seldom went on walks without him this late. especially drunk. which, he hasn’t seemed to notice you are yet.

“killed? come on.”

“don’t act like that’s crazy to say. the streets are dangerous. you know that!” he’s in your face now, motioning with his hands. “seriously, y/n, what the fuck.”

you flinch as he raises his hands in exclamation.

“so you’re mad again, great.” before you know it, you’re crying again.

you hold yourself tighter as tears start to fall. you feel like a little kid, just standing there helpless. the drinks are really getting you now.

hamzah is silent for a minute as you sob. he stands so close to you, but doesn’t dare move. when you finally look up at him, his gaze has softened and his hands are in his pockets. he reaches out slowly to brush your hair out of your face, looking at you like he’s waiting for protest. instead, you lean into his hand on your cheek.

he stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell how he feels. his eyes scan your features, landing on your lips, which are quivering just slightly. after a few moments of just looking at one another, he puts his arms out, offering a hug.

you fall against his chest and start sobbing all over again.

he rubs circles into your back absent-mindly, whispering little “shhs”. you don’t even thin of how angry you were today. how mean he was. you just cry and let him hold you. he pulls you two apart and goes to hold your face in his palms.

“how much did you drink,baby? " he asks, wiping a tear.

“not that much. just like, a few.”

“a few what?”

“mmm seltzers?” you say, more of a question than an answer.

he sighs.

“okay. well, i think you should go to bed, yeah?”

your eyes scan his face, searching for whatever emotion he’s hiding. surely he’s still angry. you hold onto both his arms while you speak.

“hamzah.”

“yeah?”

“i don’t like my high school boyfriend.”

“i know.”

he presses his eyes shut tight. his chest rises and falls slowly and before you can argue that he clearly doesn’t know, he speaks again.

“i was gonna apologize when you got home.”

“but now you’re mad again.” you say, pouting

“not about that. and i’m not mad, y/n, i was worried. you were gone for five hours without a text or anything.”

“m’sorry.” you mumble, pressing your head against his chest again.

“let’s go to bed, okay?”

he strokes your hair as you breath in his scent. he’s warm, and it hits you how tired you are. Ou nod softly against him and before you know it, he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed. giggling, you land with a plop. he joins you and holds you tight.

“we can talk more tomorrow, yeah. you deserve a better apology but i have a feeling you won’t remember much of it if i tell you now.”

you nod, scooting back to press your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder. you fall asleep.

-

i hope you guys enjoyed >.< requests are open

[lucysarah-c]

heyy could you write something about how really levi would confess his feelings? you write so good about him and i just can’t imagine how the canon levi would confess like with words or gestures.

thank you so muchhh

Hi, dear! How are you?

Awww, thank you for saying that! I hope that I keep writing Levi well enough for your enjoyment.

Ah!! You know, I had this EXACT same issue when I had to write Levi confessing in my long fic Levi x reader! I was like, "nothing felt good enough or in-character enough," and to this day, I am PROUD of that declaration!

So ... I'll copy and paste it. Hope you like it! I'll cut certain parts because you don't need them.

If I was conflicted before, this was the moment I truly lost it all: “I want you,” the first part came out confident, but the following part not so much. “No,” as he frowned at his choice of words. “I like you,” he said, less stoic than the first declaration, but there were no doubts about it. His voice shook slightly as the challenge of opening his heart was enormous for him, making his usual stoic appearance and monotone voice disappear into the dark. Leaving him completely vulnerable under my scrutiny. "No, you don’t,” I refused and cut his speech before he could go any further. “Tch, you will never know what I want if I never say it and neither will I know what you want. So don’t go around assuming shit. No, I don’t want to be your friend, and neither do I want to find someone who fits the spot, force you into this or hear that I don’t know what I feel. I’m old enough to be aware of who I want to get involved with. I’ve no idea what he said to you, but I know what I said and I don’t go around saying that to anyone. I don’t say shit I don’t feel, so cut the reading between the lines because I mean what I say or I don’t fucking say it.” There was a momentary pause before he kept going. “If you don’t feel ready for whatever reason, fine, I don’t mind or care or need an explanation. I also know my limits. Waiting isn’t one of them. I’m patient if it’s needed. But sharing? Sharing isn’t in my fucking dictionary, that’s my limit. I don’t want to go around playing shitty games, questioning myself if you’re interested in me, or your ex or any other fucker. Y/N, I have little to fucking offer compared to your other well-raised bastards and I won’t lie about it. I’m loyal, so I won’t go to another chick because you didn’t suck my dick. I’m honest, sometimes too fucking much from what I’ve been told. And god bless the sucker that lays a finger on you; that person would wish to be dead instead. I don’t have a pot to piss in, nor a last name. But if what I said is enough for you, I’ll wait for what it takes. Only if you want me to wait. If not, I walk you to your room and that’s the end of the fucking deal. No harsh shit, I’m man enough to take a no for an answer” Levi appeared to lose his nonchalant facade as his defeated appearance kicked in because of my silence as if he silently said “got it, it’s a no. I don’t know why I got my hopes up”. “If this is another yes or no question, then my answer is yes,” I replied confidently, yet blushed as a sweet smile appeared on my face slowly as I tried to ease out my nerves. Levi couldn’t hide his surprise as he looked at me. Trying to process my positive reply as if it was real, a joke or he was dreaming. Levi stood there probably thinking ‘… not even in my wildest dreams I conceived the option of it working out’ I was expecting him to do the next move, as I was used to, but he seemed so nervous all of a sudden. As if his entire insouciant, stoic self abandoned his body and left him there as a physical representation of ‘I don’t know, I never thought I’d get this far,’ “Are you…” I began the question, slightly tilting my head to follow his confusion, “are you going to kiss me or…?” That snapped him back into his usual self. His calloused hand grabbed the left side of my face, his fingers wrapped around the back of my neck as it forced to be tilted and with little height difference, he pressed his lips against mine. His rough lips moved skillfully against them and I tried to follow him. It was demanding and possessive, owning and strong. My right hand landed on his chest for support as I shyly moaned in his mouth when he tilted to the side to claim my lips better. His hand grabbed my hip and pushed it against his. My breath was getting taken away, and I thought this was, once more, scaling quickly while I got myself ready to part my lips. But Levi broke the kiss as if that was a normal kiss for him. I, who was used to quick, shy pecks on these occasions; wondered if I would ever get used to this. ‘A man of unambiguous and little words, but passionate kisses,’ I thought.

Hope you like it! <3

[kaleldobrev]

Shiny New Toy (3)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: Dean finally fills you up just like he promised

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (15x), Smut (Fingering, P in V), Unprotected sex (Remember to wrap it up kiddos!), Creampie, Non-Con (If you squint)

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 3 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | I think there's probably going to be just one more part | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

“Dean…” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so inaudible, that you weren’t even sure if you had even said his name out loud or not.

“Y/N…” His tone had almost matched yours, as if he was making fun of you for the way you had just said his name.

“Please…” Your voice slightly louder than before, but still very much low in tone.

“Please what baby?” He asked, his volume still matching yours. He reached out and started caressing your cheek with this thumb; the action making you shudder.

“I…” Your chest was tight, and there was a giant knot in your stomach. You were struggling; your thoughts and emotions scattered. The man in front of you was a complete stranger to you, despite having the face of one of your best friends, someone that you had fallen in love with. The Dean that you once knew was gone; there wasn’t a hint of him anywhere. In all other circumstances, you would have wanted Dean to have sex with you. Losing your virginity to Dean was something that you often thought about; even almost taking him up on his offer to take your virginity. At least it would have been with someone that you trusted.

“You have to use your words Sweetness.” He said, tilting your chin up just a bit, smirking.

“Go slow…Please.” Your voice slightly begging.

“Aw baby,” he began, sounding almost amused by your plea. “You’re honestly adorable.” He smirked. “Did you forget what I told you before?” He asked. You shook your head. “And what was that?”

“This…this isn’t about me.” You whispered.

He raised a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He leaned in close, almost mockingly.

“This isn’t about me.” Your voice sounding just a little bit more stern, surer of your answer.

“Very good.” He patted the top of your head as if you were some kind of child being praised.

“Dean, if there is any part of you in there that still has…some kind of feelings for me…at all…” As much as you had wanted to finish what you were about to say, you knew there was no point; he wasn’t going to listen to you, not in the current state that he was in.

“Old me had feelings for you.” He admitted. “Old me was, God I hate to say it but, he was in love with you.” Dean being in love with you was something that really hadn't crossed your mind. Since meeting him, you were always under the assumption that he loved you in the way of a little sister or as a friend, nowhere near that of a romantic interest. When you had first met him, you thought that there may of been something there, but as soon as you said your age, his face dropped, and you thought that was that - he no longer had interest in pursuing anything romantic with you. "Sweetheart, were you even paying attention to anything that I was doing when I was human? I mean, think about it. I know you're not stupid baby."

Of course you had caught Dean staring at you hundreds of times, but you never contributed them to anything remotely romantic. "All those times I stared at your ass..." his hand started moving down your body, stopping on your ass, giving it a small slap. You let out a tiny yelp like noise, not expecting him to do what he just did. "All those times I stared at these..." his hands started to remove your arms from your chest, the one thing that you had felt kept you remotely decent. "Honestly Sweetheart, really surprised you never caught me. Sammy even had to snap me out of staring a few times." He chuckled to himself. Fuck, even Sammy knew. You thought.

"You know Sweetheart, you really should have taken me up on my offer." He said. "I would have taken such good care of you. Gone nice and slow...made it all about you..." He started to circle around you, examining you like you were some kind of toy. "I would have been such a gentlemen too and would have even cuddled with you afterwards."

"Now's a crappy time to tell me that you loved me." You said, a slight attitude in your voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I genuinely thought you had no interest considering...my age..." You mumbled the last couple of words, but you were curious, curious as to why he never said anything to you. He had so many opportunities to you and yet, now was the time he decided to let you know.

"I'm not really in the mood for a therapy session Sweetheart." He said, his chest pressed up against your back, his arms wrapped around you. "But you know what I am in the mood for?" He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded. "Oh." Your nodding intrigued him. "Does my girl want to tell me?" My girl. One of the many nicknames that you loved that he called you - and one of the only ones that he had simply reserved for you. It sounded so vile coming from his mouth now.

"You want to fuck me." You said simply.

"Ding, ding, ding! That's right baby." He grinned. "Want to know how? Or do you want to be surprised?

You knew it was a tricked question: this wasn't about you, his sentence consistently repeating itself in your head. "Can you...can you tell me?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise." He grinned.

You were lying right where you had started: lying with your back on the table. But this time thankfully, you were actually free to move around, well, at least partially. Your legs were dangling off the table, your ass on the very edge - one wrong move and you'd probably fall off. Dean was positioned between your legs; both hands on your thighs holding your legs wide open. If he wasn't what he was, this would have been a sight that you would have loved to see: Dean Winchester standing fully naked in front of you. "What a fucking sight." He said finally. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of this fucking view." He said, looking into your eyes for a brief moment.

He removed his hands from your thighs, after running his hands on them. The feeling of his warm hands felt nice on your gently cool skin. "And I have to say," he began as he took his dick into his hand. "I've been with a lot of women, and I mean a lot," you hated the bragging. You knew that he was a ladies man, but this was something that you didn't particularly want to hear when you were about to lose your virginity to the man that you have been in love with for years. "But your pussy Sweetheart..." you felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "God..." his free hand gripped your hip. "Probably the best I've ever seen."

You wanted to shut your eyes, but that was something that you couldn't for some reason bring yourself to do. You knew your body was tense, and you were pretty sure that Dean noticed. "Sweetheart, no need to be tense. You're going to feel so fucking good, I promise." He said, his eyes flashing that brief black that you hated before turning into the green shade that you loved. "Having sex, fucking," he started to say as he started pressing his cock inside of you. "It's literally the best thing you'll ever experience in your life." He pushed himself deeper inside of you. As he did, you couldn't help but watch as he started to disappear inside of you. You already felt full and he wasn't even completely inside of you yet.

"Fuck." You said, almost throwing your head back.

He chuckled at your response. "I warned you I was big Sweetheart." He smirked. "You're taking me so, so good though." His compliment felt so weird to you. "There we go..." He half mumbled. You hoped he was all the way in now. "Ready baby?" He asked, nut knew he wasn't really asking. You nodded anyway, and that's when his smirk turned almost devilish.

His pace started out slower than you had thought he would have gone, which is something that you were grateful for. You half expected him to be going at a bruising pace as he had perfectly stated that this wasn't about you.

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of grunting (from Dean), moaning (from you) and the aggressive sounds of slapping of skin when he was pumping in and out of you (more like pounding in out of you). Your thoughts were incoherent, both of his hands were on your hips now, grippingly tight - you knew that you'd end up bruising. Despite the fact that the pace was starting to pick up and this was the first time you had anything remotely like this happen to you, the experience was...enjoyable to say the least. The feeling of him pulling almost all the way out before slamming right back into you was a feeling that you thought that you wouldn't particularly enjoy, but it was something that you had found yourself loving. "Dean..." You moaned, involuntarily. His name coming out of your mouth louder than you had expected it to be. Your legs slowly found themselves wrapping around his waist, your arms going above your head.

You didn't need to look at him to know that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Knew you'd enjoy it." He said. "Wish you could see yourself." One of his hands cupped one of your breasts, squeezing gently; this action causing you to let out yet another moan. "So sensitive." Almost a whisper. "How close are you Sweetness?" One of his hands running down your body, a finger hovering over your clit.

"C-close." You stuttered, feeling a slight pressure in the put of your stomach. "Ar-Are you?"

"Aw baby, how considerate of you to ask. Good girl." He said, chuckling slightly.

His movements started becoming sloppy now - he hadn't answered your question from before. "Dean?" You asked, moaning, slightly hushed.

"Yes baby? Are you going to cum?" You could hear the smirk on his lips. You nodded. "Better not fucking cum before me or they'll be consequences." Consequences? You didn't think about that.

"Dean...I'm..." You knew you were close, and you knew that you were going to cum before him; there was no possible way that you could control yourself. "Dean..."

"Don't fucking do it." He warned, his pace getting aggressively sloppier and faster. It amazed you that he was able to stay inside of you properly.

"F-f-fuck." You said, feeling your orgasm overcome you. As you were going through it, Dean continued to fuck you through it; one of his hands pressing down on your stomach while the other kept its bruising grip on your hips.

"That's it doll..." he said, his voice seductive sounding now. As you were riding out your orgasm, you felt him cum inside of you not even a minute later.

"De-fuck..." You trailed off.

Dean pulled out of you, and you were already missing the feeling of his cock inside of you. Your legs were shaking, and you felt as if you couldn't move. You never had that many orgasms before in such a short period of time. He looked at you as you started breathing heavy, your chest moving up and down as you stayed there lying on the table. One of his fingers started tracing your very sensitive and very wet clit. "So fucking beautiful." He said.

"Dean, please..." you begged, unsure if you were asking him to fuck you again or if you were asking him to give you a break. You weren't sure if you were even able to cum again.

"Need me to fuck you again? It's only been less than a minute Sweetheart. Miss my cock that badly?" You could hear the evil smirk on his face. For some reason you nodded. "I'll make a sex addict out of you yet." He dripped his finger slightly into you, and you moaned at the slight contact. You were incredibly sensitive right now.

"Dean..." You mumbled. His finger started slowly going in and out of your folds, spreading the cum around. He pumped his finger inside of you a few times before adding another one. At this point, you didn't care how desperate or needy you looked right now.

"Greedy, greedy." He almost sang, pulling his fingers out of you. You groaned at the loss. "Gotta punish you first doll."

"P-punish me?" You asked, slightly sitting up now.

"Yep." He said, licking his fingers. "You came before Y/N. I said, if you cum before me, there will be consequences. Now, get your sweet, sweet ass from off the table."

"What...What are you going to do?" Your question was innocent enough, but you knew he wasn't going to give you an innocent answer.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm going to spank you." He replied. "Now, get off the table and get on all fours. I won't ask again."

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee @ilikw @spnfamily-j2 @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[andreas-river]

Hi! I have an Oc who is Malaysian so her accent is very heavy. She doesn't have much knowledge about other languages, just English. Then I had an idea.

Could you do something about the reader being the nursing assistant at the base, who is a little shy and decided to learn German on her own just to have some conversation with König, since she always had a crush on him. She is always seen very distracted reading something but no one knows what she reads so much, since she takes care to cover all the German books she has so that no one suspects her sudden interest in the language.

Thank you in advance! 🥰

König X Nurse!Fem!Reader

A/N: Hi, here's your request. I'm sorry it took so long, hope you'll like it anyway!

Disclaimer: I do not own any MW characters. English is not my first language.

Warnings: mention of wound, fluff.

Since you became a nurse at the base, you came in contact with many soldiers, always helping them, following all the doctors’ orders, giving them support, and trying to be more than a nurse, at least something like a friend.

Communication is the key─and to do your job, you need to communicate in any way.

König was the hardest one: he was always silent, answering your questions with simple syllables, such as “yes” or “sure”, keeping his eyes low, or just roaming around the room without watching.

So, you started to learn his language.

Whenever you had the chance -lunch breaks, between patients, or in the evenings- all your attention would fall back on the stack of recovered German books, starting with the basics, but not with little effort. No one suspected anything- and you cared about keeping this a secret.

Something attracted you to him, but still weren’t able to explain, his mere presence made you feel so little, so protected, always feeling his eyes under the hood watching you, but when you tried to catch him, he was faster than you and his eyes were already on something else.

A knock from the door made you flinch, bringing you back to reality, quickly leaving the book under your jacket -hiding it- and sprinting to the door, facing exactly the one you were thinking about all the time.

“Hi, uh... the bandage came off, so...” his thick accent made you shiver, your eyes going right where he was pointing to: a straight line of stitches in his left arm was exposed, still holding the old bandages with the other.

“Oh- sure, come in.” he followed you, making him sit on a chair to be able to medicate his wound more easily. Even with that, his height is still tangible.

“You didn’t find the doctor?” you asked him with a smile, trying to make him comfortable. His breaths weren’t natural, like he was controlling them to make them appear normal, but you knew they weren’t.

“Well, no one is here anymore.” He scratches the back of his head, feeling a sort of smile on those words. “I didn’t even expect to find someone.”

“Wait... hold on-” you frown, don’t understanding the meaning of those words. No one is here?

You turned around, reading the clock on the wall. 01:20 AM.

“It’s pretty late, huh?” A nervous laugh escaped your lips, your face turning hot from the embarrassment.

With his head tilted to the side, he laughed too, your chest filled with a joy you didn’t recognize: you never heard him laugh, or even talk too much, and yet, König was right in front of you, laughing together like old friends, both your hands still holding his arm half-covered from the bandages.

“You were doing something important?”

You can swear he’s literally smirking under his hood. Somehow this situation made him feel comfortable more than any other time, coming out of his shell and revealing his true self to you.

“Actually... yeah, it was really important. I like reading, often I lose track of time.” You answered, ending the medication, and letting his arm go.

He gets up, pointing at something right behind you- right where you put the book. Turning around, the jacket was on the ground, the book completely exposed, feeling your face become even redder than before.

“It’s weird, I know-“ you turned back around, König already standing up behind you. The distance between your bodies was minimal and feeling the heat of his body radiating to you, a shallow breath escaped your lips.

The tips of his fingers were mid-air, meeting your red cheek.

“It’s okay...” his voice came out as a whisper, the pupil of his eyes wider than normal.

You two remained like that, staring into each other’s eyes for seconds that seemed like hours, noticing his broad chest moving faster, both of your breaths in sync. He then made a step back, both of you embarrassed, somehow happy to have made it that far.

“Es war schön dich zu sehen.” he whispered slowly, leaving you alone in the room.

A smile formed on your lips. You take the book in your hands, still feeling his own on your skin, burning like a fire and warming your heart.

It was good to see you too, König.

[thecouchshifter]

Hazbin Hotel NSFT HCs

Husker

He’s a service top and probably the biggest on checking boundaries and aftercare, like more than Charlie and Vaggie. His biggest priority is making sure whoever he’s with has a good and safe time. He’s got experience and he knows how to make anyone feel good. Also whenever someone calls him a manlet he will remind them that height doesn’t matter when you’ve got them on their knees anyway.

Charlie and Vaggie

Put them as a duo because who else are they boning? As a general note, they’re both switches and Charlie is the more experienced one of the two, though mostly with men. They’re generally pretty vanilla but have some light kinks and sometimes do some roleplay.

Vaggie loves a good strap, pulling Charlie’s hair, and biting when topping/domming and has a fucking insane praise kink when bottoming/subbing. Also likes the fact Charlie is taller than her in both (shadow of the colossus type shit or being absolutely towered over). Uses princess or doll to refer to Charlie while domming and generally uses ma’am or my queen while subbing.

Charlie is super soft and romantic when topping/domming and absolutely has to touch and kiss everywhere. When subbing/bottoming, she likes some soft under the bed restraints, maybe a blindfold every once in a while, and has a bit of a mommy kink. Either way she likes setting the scene with some candles and flower petals because she’s extra like that. Has a big praise kink too that goes both ways. Uses sweetheart and more recently little angel when domming to refer to Vaggie and when subbing pretty much exclusively uses mommy. Has one very pretty old school lingerie set that she will whip out when she really wants to impress Vaggie.

Nifty

There’s no polite way to say it, she’s a fucking freak. Doesn’t matter how you do it she’s gonna do some crazy shit to you or ask you to do some crazy shit to her. Crazy on masochism and sadism in particular. 90% of the bad boys she plays with get scared after the first time and she quickly loses interest after that. Such is the way of Nifty.

Sir Pentious

He prefers romance to sex but if it helps him bond with a partner he’ll do it. Sadly, nobody has actually stayed with him past the first date before. He’s a hopeless romantic but hopes one day he’ll find someone who loves him for him. If he did bone, he’d be really awkward about it and not really know what he was doing but inconceivably keep falling upward and in the end do a really good job. After the fact he’d need a solid 20 minutes to recover while just laying there in shock before thanking his partner profusely.

Cherri Bomb

She has fucked a lot of ways and is generally open to trying anything. Has a few utterly bizarre kinks and fetishes. Not even particularly disturbing just very oddly specific. Like fleshlight between the legs while a replica dildo of her partner’s dick fucks her and their real dick fucks the fleshlight type strange.

Angel Dust

I mean sure he’s down for pretty much anything but slow, romantic, vanilla sex is his fucking kryptonite. He doesn’t get it in the studio or god forbid with Val, so when he does he’s surprised for a minute before he gets completely lost in his partner’s eyes. Don’t get me wrong he loves kinky shit, especially bondage, but getting back to basics is such a treat for him. Very into body worship for a similar reason. Boy just wants to feel loved. Has a set of lingerie for every occasion

Alastor

“Ha! No.”

Vox likes to think of him as a massive sub tho.

Lucifer

He’s a switch that will absolutely commit to the bit if he’s doing any kind of roleplay or D/S stuff. This man is a grade A actor to the point where Lilith was worried on several occasions as to if he was possessed. He has had millennia to perfect his technique and you will find no soul in hell bar maybe Asmodeus who knows how to use all the tools at his disposal better than him. Has a bit of a ringmaster/circus fantasy and has referred to Lilith as his little acrobat multiple times. Lilith also gets a bit worried when Lucifer is horny because it usually means he hasn’t taken his depression meds. Calls Lilith goddess a lot too.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Absolutely LOVE your Roy Kent fic! Could you do a fic with Roy or Jamie where the reader is really self conscious about their body? Like they are worried they are too big to be with someone that’s a footballer. Thanks!!!

Dress You Up

Roy Kent x Reader

0.8k words

Warnings: Language, feeling self-conscious, flirting and allusions to smutty things

Oh my gosh, how did this get lost in my ask box?? I'm so sorry 😓 I hope it came out good ❤️

You stared at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to find any angle that you didn’t hate. When you and Keeley had found this dress at Harrod’s, she’d gushed about how hot you looked in it, how Roy was going to lose his mind. And you’d believed her, deciding that the charity gala was worth the splurge, especially considering the credit card you were using was Roy’s, at his insistence.

But now, even with your hair and makeup done, you felt… ridiculous. Instead of seeing the goddess Keeley had insisted you were in the fitting room, all you could see was every extra kilo, every place where the dress clung to you, and not in the way you’d hoped.

Your mind wandered to the guest list Roy had mentioned during dinner last week. The whole team, of course. Lots of rich old men, ready to open their fat pocketbooks for Rebecca’s fundraiser. And models. Actresses. The kind of women Roy Kent usually went for.

With your brain swimming with images of women whose bodies looked photoshopped, women you’d seen Roy with in magazines before the two of you began seeing each other, you grabbed your mobile, losing every ounce of excitement you’d about this night. In no time at all, a growling voice answered.

“Hey, you almost ready?”

The lump in your throat growing, you closed your eyes. “Actually, I’m not feeling well.” Not a complete lie. “You, er, should go on your own, Roy.”

There was a long pause on his end. “Well, this is fucking awkward then.”

“What is?”

Your doorbell rang. “I’m on your fucking porch,” Roy chuckled. “Can I at least say hello? Haven’t seen you all day. Fuckin’ miss you.”

The tenderness in his voice softened your resolve. “Just a quick moment, alright?” Your heels clicked against the tile of your front hall as you walked to your front door. “Don’t want you to catch whatever I’ve come down with.”

Roy expected to see you in sweats or pyjamas, with your hair in a sloppy bun, face probably tired. What he absolutely was not expecting was you in a beautiful dress that hugged every single one of those curves he loved. His eyes took their sweet time trailing up your figure until they landed on your face.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he hissed, thick eyebrows raised.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I know, I look-”

“Fucking hot,” he finished for you. “Like, if we don’t get in the car right now, that dress is going to be in the fucking shrubs.” He reached out and took your hand. “How the fuck are you not feeling well and looking like that? You got some flu that makes you sexy as hell?”

Heat flooded every inch of your skin. “You think I look… good?”

Roy’s eyebrows scrunched, as if your question was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Fucking course I do. Might have to leave the gala early so I can come back and make you feel better.” He tugged you close to himself. “Unless you’re coming with me. In which case, I know some dark corners at the venue where we could get into some trouble.”

Unable to help yourself, you brought your hands up to fiddle with the lapels of his suit jacket. “You sure you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with me?”

Another ridiculous question, according to Roy’s facial expression. “Why the fuck would I ever be embarrassed to be seen with you? If anything, I’m scared Jamie Tartt’ll try to steal you from me.”

“I mean…” You shifted awkwardly in Roy’s arms. “There’s lots of models and shit there, right? Gorgeous, skinny women-”

“Women I’m not interested in,” Roy cut you off. “Women I wouldn’t give a second glance to. Especially with you in the fucking room.” He kissed your forehead tenderly. “Won’t be able to keep my eyes off of you. And my fucking hands will be just as dangerous.”

You nudged Roy’s nose with yours, the knots in your tummy starting to unravel. “You sure?”

He let out a soft chuckle before pressing his lips to yours briefly. “Very fucking sure. Now come on, put me out of my fucking misery. Say you’re coming to the ball with me.”

In his eyes you could see so much adoration, love, tenderness, and more than a little lust. It was enough to make you stand up straight and tighten your grip on him.

“You know some dark corners huh?” you teased.

A smile broke out across his bearded face. “Plenty,” he assured you, his hands wandering a bit. “I’d love to show ‘em to you.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Come in while I grab my purse?”

To your surprise, Roy shook his head. “If I come in there, we are not making it to the gala on time. We’d probably barely make it to your bedroom.”

A wicked smile spread across your face as you tugged his tie, pulling him inside with you. “We can be a bit late, can’t we?”

“If you insist.”

[anthropologyruinseverything]

Summerslam venting - my opinions are based on personal experiences and feelings.

I’m a Roman fan but honestly this is getting old and stale and I’ll completely lose interest if he isn’t at Summerslam. (And listen, for a dude with his health issues I’d be happy to hear he was gonna mostly retire and make movies. Get your paper while you can babe!) I agree with a number of folks here that they’ve missed so much in regard to tension building between Roman and Solo. I just don’t care. And of course he’s gonna cheat against Cody. It’s a classic bad guy vs. the hero set up.

At least they gave Damian something to fight for. I am loving the new angle. But if he loses to a N@z* who called him street trash I’m gonna throw up because you’re just not hiding it at this point. Fair warning, you will not find any love for Gunther on my page. Yes, he’s great at what he does but until his character changes I’m not cheering. (Stood across the protest line from too many of the real-deal bad guys who sing his praises online at this point.)

Rhea’s gonna have to face the monster she herself created in Liv. I’m interested in the long term implications for Judgement Day and her relationship with Dominik. But it’s Mami’s fault so it’ll be satisfying to see what happens and I have faith in these performers to put on an amazing show.

Bayley and Nia lacks the same level of emotion but I also think it will be a great match. Nia is better than a lot of people give her credit for and with this last title run Bayley has won me over. Normally I leave the room when Tiffany Stratton is on the television so hopefully her fake ass won’t be too involved.

Drew, Punk and Seth will be fun to watch but they’ve screwed with other storylines so many times I’m just ready for it to be over. I think the highlight will be Seth’s outfit.

I want Sami to beat Bron. I’m a sucker for heart and hard work paying off. Bron is Goldberg 2.0 and I find him just as interesting as his predecessor, meaning I’d rather watch paint dry. He’s got potential so I hope they don’t stick with the angry meathead persona for long. I figure they’re setting Sami up to lose, probably due to being drawn back into Bloodline mess with Jey. It would be almost okay if he and Jey got a nice run as a tag team together.

Side note if you made it this far:

I was so excited for Jey’s single run. It’s personal and I know that’s silly but I FOUGHT TOOTH AND NAIL to escape an abusive family and make a life for myself. It really spoke to me to see him do the same sort of thing. And now, it’s all been wasted because he’s almost assuredly been nuked at every turn so he can go back to the Bloodline drama. He deserves better, deserves a better singles story and a title. It’s sad he probably won’t ever get it at this point. Like I said before, I will watch a different promotion if he goes to it.

Anyway, thanks for listening. My couple of 7 day, 18hr a day work weeks are coming to a close so I’ll have way more time to work on my fanfics and novels. I’m considering entry to a competition for some of my original stories so I may post a few blurbs for feedback. If you’re waiting for a request or just a story update, that’s what I’ll be working on! Some very much needed stress relief.

Thanks for giving me some space to share my thoughts and my work!

[bao3bei4]

zine finance and fulfillment

hi everyone. now that i’ve completed the “spending money” part of “yaoi zine 2” (for the most part. i hope nothing gets lost in the mail, although i’ve resigned myself to it), i thought i would make a long boring post about zine finance and fulfillment. this is because people talk about it less than other parts of zine making online. so i hope this will be of interest or use to at least one person.

none of this should be new to anyone who’s ran a zine before, but my hope is to give people who are interested in it some food for thought so that we have more cool zines that i can buy. 

before we begin. a brief disclaimer: i am kind of half-assed about good zine finance hygiene. that is to say, i keep the money in my personal checking account, i don’t have a llc, etc. i do declare zine income on my taxes (i write it almost all of it off, since i only make not-for-profit zines). this is because i am twenty three years old and i have a small scale operation. i recognize and acknowledge that i do not follow best practices, and someone else should write a long boring post about what all best practices entails. 

this post is about how i price my zines, and my workflow for fulfillment. that’s all it is. i hope that it is useful for anyone else trying to cheaply and quickly make and sell maybe 150 zines or so to their friends and followers. 

so i do a sort of stupid model for my zines, which is that i charge a flat rate to send a zine anywhere in the world. this is a stupid model because, in the case of “yaoi zine 2,” the “real cost” of sending one zine to the united states is $11.58. the “real cost” to send a zine to, say, the united kingdom is $24.20. you may notice that this means it actually costs me five dollars and twenty cents every time someone in the united kingdom buys a zine, as i priced the zines at $19 each. this is generally a horrible business model. as i write this now, i am realizing that i really should have made the zines $24, steep as it is. just because yikes. -$5.20. 

but i like doing it this way because it feels fairer. and also because i’m the sole proprietor of “tshirt zines” and i can do whatever i want. i just am commenting that i cannot ethically tell you to adopt this model, since i’ve signed the hippocratic oath. this is because you need to be okay with using your personal funds to cover any losses that you take as a result of this model. this is true for all zines, but like. especially here. 

back to the matter at hand. how did i arrive at that $19 number, knowing that i would lose money on at least some sales? 

there are basically four components i keep in mind: shipping materials (think envelopes, labels, toner for my printer), printing cost (i just call up printers and ask for estimates), shipping cost (i’ll talk more about this in a sec), and stripe fees (.029 * price + 0.30 atm). use a spreadsheet to keep them straight. 

i went over budget on shipping materials because i last minute decided to make little freebie one page zines and burned through a bunch of toner in the process, so we won’t talk about that. this one is simple, anyway. you know how to figure out the price of mailing envelopes.

printing cost. i like working with local printers, if i can. if the zine is too big for me to print at home, but small enough it can be saddle stitched, i’ve worked with lightning press here in the bay area, and keith has never let me down. great guy. for perfect bound zines, like “yaoi zine 2,” i used mixam.com. i wasn’t the biggest fan, quite a few zines came a little bent or warped (this is why you order extra. that and in case they get lost in the mail). keith would NEVER do that to me. i’ve also heard good things about bookmobile, but i was keeping it simple for this printing. dm me if you’ve used them. 

anyway, all told, the price of an individual zine shipped to me, taxes and everything was $6.14. i estimated that it would cost $6.

shipping cost. so since i do aforementioned stupid model, i have to arrive at a number. PERSONALLY. the number i PERSONALLY have arrived at. based on my particular following. after doing five internationally shipped zines, is that i can usually expect 70% domestic orders, 30% international. i guesstimate the weight of the zine by stacking and weighing other zines i have until i get a decent facsimile (NB you should probably just weigh your proof but i wanted to expedite the timeline), and then i check these charts. peep the “large envelope” numbers. 

domestic: https://pe.usps.com/text/dmm300/Notice123.htm#_c037 

international: https://pe.usps.com/text/dmm300/Notice123.htm#_c341

i actually used media mail for my domestic orders, this time, because of the size. so it cost $3.92 to mail one zine domestically, and rounding between all the zones, i guessed that it would cost $16 for most international zines. 

i then did the following equation (0.7 * 3.92) + (0.3 *16) = $7.24

actually i’m lying. i did (0.7 * 3) + (0.3 *12) = $5.70 because i underestimated the weight of the zine so that’s on me. i rounded that number to $6. 

“what about canada” shipping to canada is actually basically the same cost as that mean zine shipping cost. so they don’t actually affect my calculations at all. 

stripe fees. self explanatory. remember them, though. 

anyway. zine price = shipping materials + printing cost times two + averaged shipping cost + stripe fees. 

now, you may notice that i underestimated a lot of things. how did i break even? three reasons. 

first, LUCK! that’s right. my ratio this time was skewed more in the favor of us zines than international zines, about 80-20. who knows why. probably the strong us dollar atm made it cost prohibitive for many people. geopolitics strikes again.

and second, actually i made about $580 profit, that i had to disburse. i was never actually in danger of losing money, because of that “printing cost times two” i skipped over really fast. the purpose of that is to cover printing and shipping free copies for all contributors. i arrived at the number two because 1) according to oomf that’s apparently standard, 2) it’s a nice round number, and 3) if i sold 50 copies (my original lowball estimate of how many i would sell) that was my break even number to print contributor copies.

$580/$12.88 (my actual raw cost of a zine, without stripe fees) = about 45. i had 21 contributors, so after mailing them out zines, i had around $300 profit, or 24 zines worth of it, left. this is where the money for the giveaway zines came from!

third. i also had some profit from selling “yaoi zine 1” again which HADN’T gone over my estimate. because i’d shipped them before. this helped pay me back for all the extra expenses. 

let’s talk about more logistics. i use bigcartel for my storefront because it’s free. that’s literally the only reason why. i use stripe instead of paypal because to make it a business account (and not expose my legal name to everyone) i would have needed to update my account with an id and that would reveal to them that i created my paypal account when i was 13. stripe has no such problem for me. 

i fulfilled orders this time using “pirate ship” because, again, free. in the past i’ve used shipstation + stamps dot com combo, because that afaik is the only bigcartel integrated service that allows you to buy letter mail postage (i want to send them as letters, not packages, because it’s cheaper). but that you have to pay money for, or use the free trial. since i was using media mail this time, pirate ship was good enough for me. 

when all of the zines arrived at my house i began stuffing envelopes and printing labels with the help of a lovely friend. don’t do this alone you EITHER get really bored or you slip into that sports manga ass trance that anyone who’s ever done repetitive labor has experienced and the day blips by. instead i had fun with a friend.

now. there is no way. as far as i know. to buy international letter mail stamps online. this is because you are not supposed to use it for your online store because you can only send things with a value of $0. and they have to be documents. so using them for zines is really skirting legality here unforch. 

WHAT I DO INSTEAD. i go to the closest post office with that pitney bowes machine, and i monopolize it printing postage. yeah. go at an off time. BE PREPARED to annoy everyone else at the post office. let them take turns with you obviously, but there will be some mean old lady who will make a snarky comment about you so stay fucking safe. 

 i think that’s everything i have to explain about my process. go make a zine. and consider selling it. 

[ash5monster01]

Goes On Chapter Two

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.1k

One ←→ Three

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

1/8/60

Charlie was wrong in assuming that attending the one study session would get them off his back. They all took his attendance as him wanting to be friends which was the complete opposite of what he wanted. His days now consisted of actively avoiding them, ignoring when they waved him over in class, eating lunch alone in his dorm, and going straight to a private study room after classes in hopes to not be found and be left alone. Even his room mate had been trying hard to get to know him but Charlie didn’t have any interest in getting to know anybody.

Getting to know someone meant getting close to them and getting close meant there was a chance you could lose them. Charlie already knew what it was like, he had friends, and he lost them. Going through that pain again would never be worth it. So the best he had was being the new school loner for the next year and a half. Whether Evelyn, Nate, or the rest of their friends had any say about it. Which is why Charlie knew on Friday nights Nate had chess club and would have the dorm to himself for the rest of the night. Or so he thought.

“What’re you doing here” Charlie spluttered, a bit shocked to see Evelyn laid in Nate’s bed with a book in her hands. He was mainly surprised for her being in the room but even more surprised how natural it was for her to be in a boys dorm bed. Charlie thought those kind of things only happened in dreams.

“Violet and Marty kicked me out of the room if you know what I mean” Evelyn answered, turning to her side and eyes still scanning the page.

“And your only option was to come here?” Charlie asked dropping his bag onto his desk and sliding off his shoes.

“Yes, Nate normally lets me hide out here” Evelyn answered right back and Charlie sighed as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. He did not have time for making friends and trying to act normal about a girl in his dorm room.

“You and Nate are close?” Charlie asked despite everything in him telling him not too.

“Oh, so now someone wants to talk” Evelyn teased but Charlie just shook his head and traded his button down for a black t-shirt. Evelyn realized he wasn’t in the mood for teasing so she quietly sat up. “Super close, known him for what feels like my whole life”

“I guess I’m just not used to girls and guys being friends” Charlie told her, only knowing a life of school boys and crushing on every girl they had an opportunity too.

“I get the feeling you’re not used to a lot of things” Evelyn responded before lying on her back and focusing on her book.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked as he sat down at his desk, pulling out his books to do homework. Cameron would have a heart attack if he could see him now.

“I don’t know, it’s just you’re different is all” Evelyn said and Charlie wished this didn’t peak his interest. He had no business even talking to her but she was the girl in his dorm room. Old Charlie would have been all over that.

“You have no idea” Charlie muttered to himself and Evelyn sighed, annoyed she couldn’t get the boy to just talk to her. He was cute and new, and she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him somehow.

“Are you ever going to try and make friends or be miserable and lonely the entire time you’re here?” Evelyn asked, finally closing the book she was holding, and sitting up to put her full attention on him. Charlie was surprised by her bluntness, not expecting such an outburst.

“Sadly you won’t like my answer to that question” Charlie told her and Evelyn groaned out loud, hands coming to tug in her hair.

“God, you’re so infuriating” Evelyn was good at making friends, she knew all the right moves and topics of conversation. She liked being someone’s friend but so far Charlie had been impossible. Charlie wanted to laugh, if only she had met him three months prior. He figured she’d be just as infuriated with him then if not more.

“I don’t know why you’re letting me bother you so much. So what I choose to be lonely, it’s what I want” Charlie said turning to face her, feeling something tightening in his chest. It was amusement, something he hadn’t felt in so long. He couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely laughed about something.

“It bothers me because no one wants to be alone, I just think you’re hiding something” she argued back, arms crossing over her chest and Charlie felt the reminder of Neil sear through him and the amusement fade away.

“No one wants to be alone Evelyn, but sometimes you don’t have the choice” he told her, a somber look on his face, and turned back to his desk where he would proceed to ignore her. Evelyn felt something shoot through her heart as he said her name for the first time but even more she was affected by what his words had meant.

“Why do you hate Pritchard?” Evelyn asked, eyes falling on the english textbook on his desk. Charlie stiffened, surprised she had remembered his small outburst from the first day of class.

“I don’t hate him, I just think he’s stupid” Charlie told her, still working on the homework in front of him.

“How could he be stupid, basically the whole textbook is based on him” Evelyn asked and Charlie sighed, hands running through his hair.

“He’s stupid because he found a way to scale poems based on immaterial things when a poem is good as long as it comes from somewhere inside of you. No scale or fancy doctor should be the one to tell you if it’s good or not” if Evelyn wasn’t surprised with Charlie before she sure was now. All she could do was sit there and let his words sink in because truly she had never thought of it like that before. She hadn’t thought of anything in life like that before. She always looked to confirmation from others and just now she was realizing the entire time the only person who had to tell her she was good enough was herself.

“I suppose you’re right” is all she says after a beat before laying back down on Nate’s bed and listening to Charlie’s pencil scratch across his paper. She hated how much he bothered her and yet gave her little to nothing about himself at all. As of right now though she knew Charlie was no ordinary boy, he was something else entirely.

“Evelyn?” Nate’s voice fills the room, eyes glancing quickly between her and Charlie to determine the vibe of the room. He couldn’t bare it if she was here for him.

“Hey, there you are” she smiles softly, a sort of sadness to her eyes.

“Yeah, I had chess club remember” he tells her, dropping his things on the floor and moving to sit at her feet on the end of his bed.

“Violet and Marty kicked me out, I was hoping we could get dinner” she smiles at him, hand locking around his wrist and giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. Let me change” Nate tells her, eyes glancing to Charlie who continued to ignore them both like they weren’t even there.

Nate removed his school uniform quickly, Evelyn hiding behind her hands and giggling like a school girl. Which after all, she was. Charlie hated the way his heart constricted at the sound of her giggles. If he was the man he used to be he would’ve killed to get to know her and now here she was practically begging to be friends and he couldn’t even look her in the eye.

“Want to come with dude?” Nate asked as he slipped his Ridge crewneck on and Charlie shook his head, eyes flashing to the picture of his friends on his desk.

“I’m okay, have some homework to finish up” and Charlie didn’t miss the sigh that escaped Evelyn’s lips as he refused to turn back and look at the two.

“Alright, we’ll see you man” Nate told him as Evelyn hooked her arm with his own and he led her out the door.

“He didn’t bother you, did he?” Nate asked as they pushed out the doors of the dorm floor. Campus was chilly and cold and he felt butterflies erupt in his stomach as Evelyn huddled closer to him.

“No, we just talked. Or I at least tried to talk” Evelyn said and Nate snorted, knowing exactly what it was like. He had attempted and failed all week. So much for getting a roommate.

“I think he’s still upset about something, I just don’t know what. It can’t be about his expulsion or he never would’ve told us about that” Nate says and Evelyn nods, trying to think of reasoning herself. What in the world could possibly hurt a seventeen year old boy as badly as it did?

“Maybe give it time, after all it’s only been a week” Evelyn tells him, hands squeezing his bicep and Nate turns to look down at her with a smile.

“Would just be nice to have a best friend” Nate says and Evelyn instantly gasps.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” and laughter bellows from Nate and fills the air around them.

“No, you know what I mean. Like you and Violet. You and me, we’re different” he says and Evelyn furrows her eyebrows.

“How so?” she asks and Nate feels his heart accelerate as he just shrugs.

“I don’t know, it just is” he offers and Evelyn rolls her eyes before accepting this answer, seeing them getting closer to the cafe on campus.

“Well best friend, let’s get some dinner” Evelyn says tugging him inside and he chuckles, allowing her to do whatever she pleased. After all he loved her. So they laugh over a split sandwich, and spend their Friday night like they always did, but now it somehow felt different.

When Nate returned to the room Charlie was in bed, a saxophone cradled to his side, but Nate had a feeling he hadn’t even played it. He offered him a smile as he slipped off his shoes and pulled back the covers of his bed. The comforter still smelled like Evelyn and his heart yearned for the girl he had been in love with for so long. Thing was he knew Evelyn was easy to fall in love with and even if Charlie tried his best to avoid her he knew it wouldn’t be long until he fell in love with her too.

“So you and Evelyn huh?” he froze at the sound of Charlie’s voice, as if the new boy had read his mind.

“What do you mean?” Nate asked, trying to hide the shake in his voice.

“Just, seemed like you two were a thing” he told him, moving the saxophone down to its case beside the bed.

“No, we’re just friends. Have been for a long time” Nate said and Charlie nodded, arms folding up behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.

“She’s a real spitfire. Hounded me the whole time she was in the room” Charlie said after a moment and Nate snorted in laughter.

“Sounds like her. She’s always been tough like that” Nate says fondly, knowing it was one of the very reasons he’s loved her the last few years.

“I like tough. I used to be tough” the sentence is the most personal insight Charlie had given him all week and he freezes at the notion. How do you even respond to that.

“I have a feeling you still are Charlie, it takes someone tough to be so reserved” and his words hurt Charlie more than expected. He hadn’t meant to be so cold towards everyone but he wasn’t prepared to be a good friend. He still woke up with nightmares every night.

“It takes being broken to find yourself desperate to be alone” Charlie told him before rolling on his side and facing the wall. His back to him proved the discussion was over and Nate sighed before reaching for the lamp on his nightstand. With a single click they were enveloped in darkness and Nate wondered what made Charlie so afraid of being seen in the light.

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[jmagnabo92]

For the game- pairing Blackbolt/Starking...soft, comforting kisses

Ahhh this was different! I'm going to apologize a little because Harry features quite a bit here and I originally intended just the the two requested, but I hope you still like it!

***

Sirius is in a bit of a state.  Has been since the dementor attack on Harry in Private Drive.  He knew after learning that Voldemort had taken Harry’s blood that Harry wouldn’t be safe at his so-called relatives anymore (not that he was entirely convinced that Harry had ever been safe there).  Especially since Dumbledore seemed to be expecting it with the whole ‘guard’ thing.

He’s not safe.  He’s hurt.  He’s confused.

And Sirius needs to do something. 

He’s itching to see Harry, make sure that he’s okay, but he’d been sent to his room like a bad little boy that needs to be punished for misbehaving and he couldn’t convince these people that Harry needs him. 

He can’t just pace his room and wait.  It’s not fair.

He wretches open the door, hoping that he’d be able to sneak out and see Harry only to find himself face to face with Kingsley.

His sort-of boyfriend (they hadn’t exactly defined it), seems to be one step ahead of him.

“Look, I know you want to go and see Harry, however, neither of us would want to risk losing you so I have another idea instead.”

Kingsley breezes into the room without a care to be invited and goes to find Sirius old two-way mirror.  He’d found the pair while they’d been cleaning and was thrilled that he could hopefully someday pass it onto Harry. 

He’s still not sure why Kingsley’s interested in it right now though. 

“Kings?” Sirius questions as he turns around, mirror in hand. 

“You can’t go to the Dursleys to see Harry, but this is the next best thing.”

Sirius glances at the offered mirror.  “Except he doesn’t have the other mirror.”

“He does now,” Kingsley assures him.  “I went by to reassure him that he’s not alone… he didn’t exactly believe me, which I completely understand, so I just told him to hold onto the mirror and he’ll shortly be able to see who he really needs to see.”

Still not believing this just yet, Sirius accepts the mirror and says, “Harry Potter,” into it.

A second later, Harry appears looking completely stunned.  “Sirius!  It’s you – you’re … how?”

Sirius can’t help the relieved chuckle.  “It’s – your dad and I had a bit of a co-dependency thing so we made these so we could talk in separate detentions.  I was going to give it to you the next time I saw you –”

“Your boyfriend told me that you’re kind of on house-arrest, he’s an auror, and he had this mirror which he knew would be helpful to both of us.”

Sirius looks over at Kingsley with wide eyes.  “House-arrest, Kings, really?  Do you know what they might’ve sounded like to him?”

Kingsley grimaces.  “I mean – Dumbledore won’t let you leave, but yeah, I probably didn’t help.”

“No, not at all.”  He turns back to Harry.  “When I left the Hospital Wing, I went to alert Dumbledore’s Order that’s a little bit of a vigilante group that fought Voldemort last time.  We set up Headquarters in my old family home and because the Death Eaters would know about me and Padfoot Dumbledore’s been insistent that I don’t leave the house.  It’s essentially house-arrest.  And we just found the mirrors, but I didn’t think anyone in the Order would give it to you, so I was waiting…”

“And he’s the auror trying to catch you?” Harry asks, looking confused.  “And you’re dating him?”

“Oh, er, yeah.  That’s complicated.  See, he knows I’m innocent now ‘cause Dumbledore told him and er, well, he was the one assigned to my case so he’s purposely not finding me.  And well, I mean – we found that we had an easy time connecting.”

“I actually like to give false leads because it makes this one laugh,” Kingsley offers. 

It’s true.  He and Kingsley had actually bonded and even kissed after Kingsley had shown him an article about the latest ‘lead’ as to his whereabouts.  It’d been the first time since hearing Harry had been kidnapped that he smiled.

Still, this call was meant to focus on Harry.

“Anyway, kid, er, yeah, things are complicated, but it was worse hearing about the attack.  How are you?”

“Confused, hurt, and angry.  I don’t know what the hell is going on and I’m locked in my room again and – when can I come be with you?”

“Soon, I promise.  We’ll come get you soon.  And – and we can talk on the mirror until you can come here.”

“Really?  Because I’ve been so isolated and lonely and…”

“Yes, yes.  Of course we can.”

“Great.”

The conversation continued from there, letting Harry and Sirius catch up on so many things.  Kingsley mainly stayed quiet, a soft, reassuring hand on Sirius’ thigh that kept him going and calm as Harry went through stages of anger and frustration at certain things.  They talked until Harry had fallen asleep from exhaustion, a promise to speak the next day. 

Setting down the mirror, Sirius turns to Kingsley and pulls him in for a soft, gentle kiss.

When they break apart, Kingsley continues giving soft kisses to his hairline and shoulder.  It’s a comfort to know that he has such a partner that cares so much about him.

“Thank you, Kings.  This – I can’t even explain…”

“You don’t need to,” Kingsley offers, kissing his shoulder again.  “I know that you love that boy as your own and that you needed this as much as he did.  I wish I could do more, but with Dumbledore as the keeper and not letting Harry come here… I did the best I could.”

“You’ve done more than I could’ve hoped for considering that I was the prisoner you’ve hunted for two years and yet in a few weeks you’ve been … my support system.”

“Well, I – I have a soft spot for the ridiculously handsome despite spending years in hell on earth prisoner I’m supposed to be searching for.”  Kingsley chuckles.  “Technically, I’m the best auror we have since I caught you sitting in your kitchen.”

Sirius laughs.  “You are completely ridiculous.”

“I’m also completely yours.”

He peppers comforting kisses all over his face making Sirius’ smile widen.  How’d he get so lucky, he wonders?

It doesn’t really matter because: “I like the sound of that.”

“Good.”

***

Thanks for reading!

If you'd like to play along send me an ask with a pairing + type of kiss. In general, I usually do prongsfoot, sirry, first prince and now Starking and Buddie. But if it's a new ship, I could give it a chance, it depends.

[askdeserteagle]

On the uneventful day of November 12, 2012, as a 15-year-old sophomore in high school, during my math period, I doodled a pony in the margins of my notes. That afternoon, I went home, drew up a digital reference, and made a blog for her. I thought it’d be a fun thing to do in my free time.

I had no idea how important she’d become to me.

(The rest of my rambling reminiscence on the past decade is below the cut.)

Thank you all so much for 10 years of Ask Desert Eagle. I wouldn’t have lasted this long without you. Hope you will stick around!

The last decade has been... a lot. I mean, when you’re going from 15 years old to 25, a lot happens anyway--but I had a bit more going on than just growing pains. It’s why my update schedule suffered so much.

It is a very weird feeling to think about how someone could have grown up with my blog in the same way I did. 15 to 25 sounds like a lifetime, and it certainly felt that way. During my time in the ‘Tumblrpon’ community, I forged friendships that last to this day, and many more that I’ve since drifted away from or lost contact with, but remember fondly. I experienced the death of a friend for the first time; rest in peace, Rusty Nail. I graduated high school. I graduated college. I moved out. And now I’m here.

The glory days of Tumblrpon are over, that much is evident, but I’m glad I was here during them. I’m likely never going to get more eyes on this comic than I did back then. I have no idea how many of you 5,300 people are still around! I would understand if you weren’t; a maximum of two years between pages is a very long time. I harbor a lot of guilt over maintaining possibly the worst webcomic update schedule I’ve ever seen. What an achievement!

Surprisingly, though, I’m not blaming myself as hard as I used to. I used to think it was my fault; that I was lazy, or that I just wasn’t diligent enough to work on such a long-lasting project. But then I started getting treated for ADHD. Turns out, I was tired. I was tired for so, so long. There was a layer of fog on my brain I didn’t even know was there, less hours in the day than anyone else because of my energy levels. I’ve been forcing myself out of bed at noon for my entire adult life and now I don’t even need an alarm to be up at 8 am. That’s crazy!! It’s like magic!! If all this sounds relatable to you, talk to a psychiatrist! It could change your life.

The problem isn’t 100% fixed, of course; my chronic illnesses do still affect my life, but this is the closest I’ve felt to being a normal, functioning human being in more than a decade, and I very much hope the effect lasts.

Because--unsurprisingly--I still feel deeply for this story and I want to see it through. I thought I’d lose interest eventually, but I haven’t. My love for Deagle has endured years of burnout, self-esteem issues, and guilt about my update speed, and come out unscathed. So I figured at this point it’s safe to say I’m probably not going to change? Like, it’s been a decade. So many people have moved on... but I’m still here. What’s a few--perhaps several--more years to complete this comic? I’m game if you are.

I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. See you next page. :)

[alexanderlightweight]

A Magnus from a different reality shows up and he’s here to stay. He didn’t lose his Alec because I could never do that to him. For whatever reason, he comes from an Alec-less world. (Those poor bastards.)

He was just never born. Maybe one of his parents died young or they never married or or or. Doesn’t matter.

So now there are two Magnus Banes. And both of them are enraptured by Alec. And you might think Magnus might get jealous of another him but he’s delighted. With two of him, it will be easier to look after Alec. One of them can stay with him always because now he can be in two places at once. Besides, who else could be worthy besides himself? And Alec will always love Magnus. There are just two of him now.

(And please feel free to make something smutty with this one. Alec getting taken apart by two Magnus’s is a very beautiful thought. Just one was overwhelming. Now that there are two, passing out is practically standard.)

so this actually fits with a fic i have on the backburner and i dusted it off and finished writing some of it to make it work with this prompt and i hope you enjoy it because it is definitely going to be overwhelming for him. i loved this prompt and i hope you enjoy it, thank you for sending in such lovely ideas <3

lumine

nsfw/threesome/poly/self-cest sort of

-

It’s been nearly eight-hundred years of his soul-echo being torn apart from him again and again.

Magnus can no longer take the pain he knows will always come. Because the clave will not risk facing him but they will also not risk Magnus ever being allowed to find and claim his soulmate.

Magnus cannot risk Alexander slipping through his fingers one more time and so he will do every last ritual and risk everything to ensure they are finally united.

Magnus presses his palms flat to the burning ash of the pentagram.  His hands sting, the acrid stench of his own skin and blood burning fills his senses and yet still he endures, pushing past the pain and nausea to complete the ritual. 

He’s spent centuries suffering and researching to find this spell.  Waited aching hours upon hours upon years for the right time.  A little pain will hardly stop him now, not when he’s so very close.

— 

It’s been centuries since Bane has been tempted by something this interesting, this new.  A strange face — but one with magic that nearly mirrors his own— stands before him, an expensive replica but ultimately lacking the same power that Bane holds. 

Even with all of that, he and his magic taste familiar.  

“Just what has you so desperate that you would use a spell like this?”  Bane asks, almost gently as he surveys the array that has been used to summon him.  “Not even I have ever been nearly bored enough to try this and you, well you don’t have nearly the same amount of power at your disposal.  And you know it.  What is worth this kind of risk?”

His counterpart, a being whose name is the same down to the twirls of their demonic runes, doesn’t answer immediately.  Instead, he seems unsteady as he presses a hand to the image etched upon his chest bare chest and Bane’s eyes are drawn to the design.

“I know that mark.”  Bane whispers, eyes stark and gold and glowing as he stares covetously at the mark on Magnus’ skin.  

“What does that mean?”  Magnus asks and for the first time since he summoned Bane, he sounds defensive.  

“It means, that I’ll help you and I’ll fulfill your request, if you fulfill mine.”  

Bane watches with hungry amusement as his counterpart scoffs but ultimately seems willing.

“Is there somewhere for me to sign, a dotted line perhaps, for me to place my signature?” Magnus snarks at him and Bane smiles, sometimes old and dark unraveling at the opening offered him.

“Oh, I can think of something much more binding than that.”

Bane kisses his likeness with the fervor of a god accepting their tribute.  Magnus is hot and his teeth a sharp reprimand that Bane quickly tames with his tongue and hands and magic.  

“There’s no need to fight me,” Bane pulls back just long enough to say.  At Magnus’ startled confusion, he grins, “after all, fighting yourself never goes as planned.”

He uses magic to undress them both, finding similar scars on Magnus’ body but also unfamiliar ones.  He wonders just what happened.  What changed for Magnus to have a different warlock mark then him.  He must have, as Bane can’t imagine hiding his eyes and Magnus’ have yet to even flicker.  

Whatever Magnus’ mark is, there is plenty of time for Bane to discover it and this, well this is only just the beginning. 

 —  

Magnus is hot around him, tight as he opens him up and tighter still as he clenches involuntarily.   His eyes are a clear, dark brown and while Bane could dull them with magic, he won’t. 

Not yet.  

Magnus thinks it’s magic opening him up and, in a way, it is.  

Glamoured tentacles, a gift from his father in Bane’s youth, fuck into Magnus with glee.  They give him pleasure and pain until he gasps with it, on the verge of coming but not quite there. 

“Do you agree,” Bane whispers, lips pressed in a sweet mockery to Magnus’ ear, “do we have a deal, Magnus Bane.”

Magnus nods, eyes clenching shut, and Bane catches a shimmering flash and wonders if it’s tears.  

Even if it isn’t, it will be. 

Someday. 

Bane’s lip is still bleeding from their first kiss, and he bites down on Magnus’ lip, gentler than he could be. 

A reward for Magnus’ compliance.  

Their blood mingles. 

The line of Asmodeus meeting and me and the pact seals between them.  It could be finished now, the agreement complete but Bane has never been one to back away from a deal without dotting every ‘I’ and crossing every ’t’.

The room they’re in is dull.  Neutral blue sheets on an unused bed that Bane plans to christen fully.  

He shoves Magnus down and follows, using tentacles to spread his legs.  He’s fucked others in front of a mirror before, but this is different, this is new and this is all him.

His cock fills Magnus like it was made perfectly to do just that and Bane chuckles at the thought.  His palm hovers just above the mark on Magnus’ chest, his magic crossing the distance to bring the flames to life and turn them to a dancing blue on Magnus’ skin.  

“I know this mark because this is my mark.”  Bane tells him, “and that means, Magnus Bane.  That you are mine.”

Magnus shakes his head, eyes flying open in a shocked refusal and mouth parting and Bane fucks the protest from his lips with a punishing thrust, just to watch him choke on his denial.  

Whatever strange things brought Bane here, it was with a purpose and Bane will find out just what belongs to him in this new world before he destroys it.

—

Bane slips out of Magnus with a gentleness that he allows only because Magnus’ eyes are closed in rest and his legs limp as Bane unwinds them from his waist.  Magnus’ hole clenches around him, as if to beg him to stay and Bane watches as a little of his come slips free.  He’s tempted to summon a toy, something to keep Magnus’ company but as much as he would enjoy it, he doubts his counterpart would appreciate it just now.  Better to save it for later, when Magnus is more aware and welcoming of his affection and efforts.  

The contract between them hums. 

A pleasant tune that fluctuates throughout Bane’s body as he steps through the door surveys the rest of Magnus’ home.  It will settle even further once Magnus fucks Bane, but Bane plans on Magnus being awake and aware and remembering it, so he’ll wait for that pleasure.

The entirety of Magnus’ lair is a pleasant atmosphere with decor he doesn’t hate and the presence of his twinned soul everywhere.  

The contract binding him to his word tugs at him, urgently now and Bane lets out an irked sigh as he raises his hand and opens a portal, hoping to finish with this nonsense as quickly as possible.  Why Magnus is so worried about one, mewling mortal shadowhunter is beyond him, but he’ll honor their deal, no matter how silly it may seem to him.

The guidelines of what Bane was brought to do were written into the very heart of the array and so even without Magnus telling him, Bane knows who he needs to get and where they are.

Bane ignores the laws of reason and magic and steps into the unknown.  Limbo does not wait for him, as his magic has carved a way for him.  His magic goes before him and he follows, feet meeting wood and stone and angelic power humming around him.  He is in a nephilim stronghold, as apparently in this world, they still stand strong.  

A figure turns, fists raised defensively as a towel slip from his hand.  It’s undoubtedly the nephilim Magnus contracted him to find.  The one he wanted delivered safely and unharmed to his side. 

The one he paid for in advance. 

With blood and seed, pleasure and pain.  A contract more than thrice bound that even Bane would hesitate to break. The nephilim that Magnus was willing to do anything for, an open-ended payment branded into the array, so long as Alexander Lightwood is delivered to him.

Bane stares at this soft, mortal warrior.  The small scar bisecting his eyebrow and the strong corded muscle of his bare arms.  He looks young and he should look lost, instead he seems as though he's finally been found.  

“Magnus?”  Alexander asks softly, confusion and hope in his voice.  Water drops from his hair, leaving darkened spots on his sweater as he steps forward, hands lowering to his sides.  He takes only a few steps before his wariness returns.  He leaves his hands down, but Bane can read the tension in his muscles and sees the pain in his eyes as he realizes it’s not the Magnus he thinks.

“I’m to bring you to him.”  Bane says with a smirk, “I’m Bane, shadowhunter.”

"Bane?"  He’s asked and Bane nods.  "Bane."  Alexander says again, less a test and more a declaration and Bane isn’t sure why he leans forward to kiss the sound of his name from Alexander’s lips.  

The nephilim is soft and pliant to his touch, a dazed blankness to hazel eyes as Bane portals him away.  

Bane's spine lights with sparks of muted recognition as he leads Alec to the bedroom Magnus purposefully avoided earlier.  The bed inside has sheets of gold and cream, and he vanishes them with a thought.

Maroon sheets, the hue of freshly lost blood welcome him as he settles back against the headboard.  He pulls Alexander with him instead of taking him to Magnus, a soul deep curiosity growing inside of him. Alexander goes willingly, nestling between his thighs and Bane marvels that somehow, he's been split in two and yet in his hands the world beats with a warm, steady pulse. 

Bane leans down and presses their lips together, his teeth claiming as he tugs on Alexander’s lips.

Alec whimpers, lost to his kiss and Bane pulls away, letting him gather his breath before using a finger to vanish his pants.  His gold eyes feast on Alexander’s expression as his breath catches and his hand cautiously reaching out to stroke Bane's cock.

"You can worship so much more devoutly than that, little angel."  Bane suggests and places his hand on the back of Alec's neck, "share with me your ardor.  Let me taste your veneration."

Angelic power floods into Bane freely, a gift given to him with such trust that he could take it all and Alexander wouldn't even try to stop him.

It's a heady, tempting taste of the power given to him over this shadowhunter and Bane uses magic to strip Alec of his shirt and pants, leaving his hand on the back of Alec's neck, holding him in place and keeping the connection wide. 

It means that Alec can feel him, when Bane sees the mark.

It sits there, so innocently and innocuously, as though it weren't a claiming brand that Bane once spent hours upon hours toiling over.

For Magnus, the twinning of his soul to bear it, is one thing. 

For Alexander, it's entirely another.

"Mine."  Slides through his thoughts, a phantom truth that wreaks through the towers keeping him in isolation and under his touch, Alec clenches and cries out, knees tight around Bane's thigh as he comes, hot and wet and without control.

Bane admires the twists of color on Alec's mark for a moment and then brings a matching flame to his hand, twirling it around his fingers before reaching out and stroking Alec's cock, letting the flames tease the sensitive skin there.  

"There," he murmurs, "my sweet boy, aren't you.  Mine.  Matching me in every way.  Made for me, my perfection."  

There's a crown that he remembers, an old relic of centuries long past.  He'll summon it another day.  Crown Alexander in Idris' fallen treasures and anoint him as holy and royal with his cock.  One ruler to another.

For now, though, he will enjoy this moment, the one where he met his soul and their mate. 

—

Magnus wakes up feeling sore like he hasn't in centuries.  The last time he felt this sore was when he took down a horde of Lilith's scum while battling for his father's crown and it certainly hadn't been accompanied by such a delicious burn or a wet trickle of evidence down his thighs.

It leaves his thoughts sickly sweet and oozing in his skull like honey, worries like bees buzzing in his ears too loudly to concentrate and the first thought to truly penetrate the fog is Alexander.

He hurries through the loft.  Tripping over randomly placed furniture, as though his home was overturned while he slept.

The bed he'd woken in was the guest bed, the unused room that he’s used to summon Bane to leave his master bedroom untouched.

Yet when he gets to it, the door is open.

Magnus enters with his glamour down and his power out.

Gold meets gold as the heirs of Asmodeus match stares and Magnus blinks away first, lowers his gaze to search frantically and sighs in devastated relief when he sees Alexander.

Alexander is safe.  

Bane rests seated on sheets the color of freshly spilled blood as though it is a throne and Alec is in the safest place he could possibly be.  Lying spread out and naked but for a sheet and a claiming hand in his hair, face nestled against Bane's hip and lips parted in sleep a parody of a kiss against Bane's cock.

"I see why you would consider destroying the world for him."  Bane says something close to reverence in his voice and that alone is so blasphemous that Magnus can't think about it at the moment.  "I even understand why you would summon me."  There is something there, in that moment that makes Magnus understand that in this, with Alexander between them, they are closer to equals than any lineage or favored gifts from their father could bring them.

His mind is still too slow to deal with that, however, and he pushes aside everything but the need for Alec to finally be in his arms and beneath his hands.  Magnus stalks to the bed and climbs, still naked, to press a kiss to Alexander's forehead and breath in his scent, his perfect, warm scent and then he kisses his boy.  

Bane's cock twitches against his cheek and Magnus groans into Alexander's mouth as his soulmate whimpers and comes awake, sucking on Magnus' tongue and instinctively chasing him when Magnus starts to pull away.  

They part and Magnus is aware enough to shudder, his own cock hard against Bane's leg as Alexander blinks at him, hazy eyed and lips wet as he stretches in sleep-addled supplication.  

"Our good boy," Bane murmurs, hand catching in Alexander’s hair and tugging on it, earning a sleepy groan that's muffled by skin as their boy turns and yawns against the crease of Bane's groin.  "How should he greet us this morning, Magnus?  In my world nephilim would worship when they wake, do some traditions in this stay the same?"

magnus is harry shum jr portrayal and bane is godfrey gao

[bugeyedfreaks]

So I was thinking about the whole “misogyny behind the supposed lack of interest in teenage girl Powerpuffs” statement you made and something hit me: the reason why the reboots suck is because they’re trying to squeeze edgy, Cinemasins-style teenage and adult situations and humor out of perpetually five year old girls and it makes me so mad that Craig said that because teenage girls ALREADY think that their lives end once they have boobies or are interested in girly hobbies and it would be so subversive to have a show that continues off of the “GIRLS CAN BE ANYTHING.” message of the original with “TEENAGE GIRLS CAN DO ANYTHING. THEY DON’T HAVE TO BE MEN LITE TO BE HEROES.” but instead, we get like five reboots of various levels of quality, all because he thinks teenage girls have cooties or whatever.

Oh yeah, what I said on this post! I could have given you a short answer like a normal blogger, but here is my long, rambling answer where I basically agree and get a little off track and go more in detail about the suckiness of the reboots/the suckiness of saying the girls aren't special if they're older... behind the cut. 🤣

“Teenage girls ALREADY think that their lives end once they have boobies or are interested in girly hobbies.” It's definitely not an inherent thought by any means, but I totally know what you're saying. Society and culture and the media and the internet push girls into thinking they have to become a certain kind of "mature" by a certain age and it's awful. And to say that the girls wouldn’t be “special” if they were older felt as if it was reinforcing the whole gross notion that women allegedly turn into completely different creatures at puberty and from there on out rapidly lose their worth/usefulness as they get older. To say that the girls wouldn’t or couldn’t be “special” when they grow up… yeah, the wording was pretty yikes.

I guess I should quickly clarify that I prefer Craig doing what he does best, and I'm perfectly fine with the girls continuing to be kindergarteners if the show gets rebooted or continued. And he hasn't been involved with the series since 2008, so he's not responsible for any of the content in the reboots that have already happened. I don’t believe he’s some raging sexist (…well, I hope not) either, it’s just that the way he’s said some of the things he’s said concerning this topic are kinda… ugh. Poorly communicated. It's frustrating sometimes! 😩

I get what Craig was trying to say: having the girls be ass-kicking kindergarteners is a fun and unique premise (true, and I love them that way, it's OG, baby!), and having them be teenagers or adults… well, there are already a lot of ass-kicking superheroines who are teenagers/adults. But that's such a limited view of who the girls really are. Their being kindergarteners isn’t the only thing that makes them unique compared to other superheroes/hero teams. They’re three sisters (essentially triplets) with a creator who acts as their single-parent father figure (so they have a loving and stable family life), and each one of them has distinct personalities and talents. They’re fully fleshed-out characters on their own, but they’re also incomplete if they aren’t together. How many other superheroes or superheroines are like that?

Regarding the comment he made about their “kryptonite,” I definitely think that an interesting setback (and strength!) of theirs– regardless of them being in kindergarten– is that none of the girls have alter egos, so they can never just have “normal” lives. At least Clark Kent and Diana Prince could maybe pretend to be regular people once in a while. Blossom and Bubbles and Buttercup can’t! No matter how old they become, the girls will always have to deal with their “real world” responsibilities in tandem with their “superhero” responsibilities because they don’t have to hide anything about their powers from the world. Other superheroes’ lives would end if their “normal” identity was exposed: theirs wouldn’t. And then again, no matter what unique responsibilities they’d be facing, no matter their stage in life, they’d continue to have to deal with the positives and negatives of that kind of existence, and, like I've discussed on here before, I think there are soooo many stories that could potentially be explored stemming from that. So... like... come on. Not special, my foot! It's not like their adventures would all of a sudden end or could never be just as unique as they've always been!

In the case of making a story with the girls being older, yeah, that doesn’t automatically mean you need to stuff your show with edgy, "adult" humor. You barely even have to change how they talk. They don’t have to talk about sex or comment on the latest pop culture thing to be “mature.” They don’t have to get all serious and gritty to be “mature.” Those are the kinds of things people in Hollywood think maturity is (does a certain someone who's also in Hollywood believe that, too? 👀). The problem is in the writing, in misunderstanding what the show is and who the characters are in the first place, how they deal with life to begin with, and so far it seems that the right storytellers who could tell really cool stories in that sort of setting who do understand all that haven’t come along yet.

Also, a thing that I feel is critical to getting the tone of the girls as characters right is that they exist in a universe that, while it may have exciting action and fighting and carnage, is still a very silly place. The goofiness of that universe comes with a very specific tone that has not been well replicated in these other iterations of the series. The balance of the girls' “normal” and “superhero” lives is always off-kilter (and I’m gonna be controversial… I think the live-action script didn't hit the mark but was a billion times closer to getting that balance than the 2016 reboot), and the type of humor that gets used is way off in tone (PPG humor ≠ twerking/Simpsons humor/lazy pop culture jokes/sex jokes). Plus, that small but critical dose of sincerity in the writing of the original show barely ever feels like it’s present in any of these newer iterations.

...but what do I know, I dunno, do I even get the characters? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ That's just how I feel about it all. Sorry for all these words, haha.

[kagoutiss]

what is link like in your AU?💞💞

hi anon i hope you’re ok with the fact that i ended up writing you a gargantuan wall of text in response to your very simple question 😭 so basically most of the AU takes place during the 7 year timeskip when link is asleep in the sacred realm, so that’s why i don’t talk as much about him. but i have a lot of feelings about his & sheik’s interactions after he finally wakes up, him being the same friend sheik knew for such a short time so many years ago, him probably still being the best friend she’s ever had despite that. except link hasn’t been able to adjust to the passage of time like sheik— he’s a little boy who was basically turned into a soldier in a matter of days, and has now woken up in a body that’s suddenly too big for him, and still has to keep being a soldier and fulfill a mission he never asked for, wherein he has to prepare to kill a human being who is in possession of unimaginable divine power. link in my AU is basically the same as how i think of him in canon, he’s trying to do everything that’s been asked of him while relearning how to move/fight/interact with a world that’s very different from the one he had just barely begun to familiarize himself with

not to infantilize him by talking so much about how he was just a kid, but he is metaphorically & literally a kid who was forced to grow up before he was ready— from the moment his mother gave him to the Deku Tree as a baby, he’s been saddled with immense expectations that inevitably ruin his entire life, very suddenly and very quickly. zelda, the only person who really acknowledges the burdens that have been placed on him, tries to help in the end by sending him back to his childhood in the hopes of returning what she feels she’s deprived him of, intentionally or not. but even this can’t really give him his childhood back, or give him a normal life (not to mention, the zelda he knew never gets to see him again after that, and likewise the zelda he meets again in his childhood will not ever really be the same zelda he knew. because they had completely different life experiences. adult link & adult zelda kinda both lose their closest friends in the entire world in that way)

also like in the game, ganondorf is passively interested in link’s progress & thinks he’s a really gutsy (if naive) kid with a ton of potential. but he also feels that link’s potential is squandered by serving people who are only interested in him as a means of restoring their old world, people who have instilled in link this tendency to do whatever is asked of him without questioning any of it. link is afraid of ganondorf and confused by him, he does not understand why ganon does what he does, he despises him more & more for the harm he’s caused to the people he meets on his journey, and link conquers his childhood fears in the end by facing him anyway. at the same time, on his own, link also starts to gain more awareness (especially after going thru the spirit and shadow temples) that his actions are consequential, that he is doing all this because he’s been told to, that regardless of his hatred & fear for ganondorf, there is still a bigger picture that he isn’t seeing. that there are profound evils in this world that weren’t created by ganon, that aren’t demonic or monstrous in nature. this world and its conflicts aren’t simple like they’d been made out to be, evil does not always name itself things like The King of All Evil. and an unsettled feeling comes with that. it only grows after he’s been sent back to his original time, where his actions set in motion even more far-reaching consequences in hyrule, even as he’s leaving on his own adventure for his own reasons, unaware he’ll have to contend with a lot of his newfound traumas in termina

ANYWAY i just went on a huge tangent sorry agskfhskd but to answer your question, link in my AU is pretty much the same as in canon, he does not know that sheik is also working for ganondorf, basically he’s just trying to fulfill the impossible expectations that the world has for him, becoming the prophesied hero of legend through his sheer endless grit and determination, in spite of his fear, all for the sake of others who he owes absolutely nothing to (which is what makes him the chosen bearer of courage!). he’s also mostly nonverbal, he does speak but finds it easier around people he knows well. he loves animals, he has a reserved and gentle personality, but he also becomes incredibly audacious and bullheaded when faced with potential threats, or with people belittling his friends. he recognizes bullies when he sees them, and gets better and better at standing his ground against them. he also has a difficult time comprehending his own agency, that he can do things because he wants to do them and not just because he has a responsibility to someone else. whether or not he also gets sent back in time by zelda at the end of the AU is still up in the air tho, since zelda may or may not decide on the exact same solutions in the end agdjahfksjf

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

I finally solved some issues that were a block in my Alpha!Javi piece and damn did the words flow like wine last night. I ended up scrapping everything I wrote before and giving into a much angstier plot. It has a happy ending, but it's gonna take some trial to get there. And it now smacks of something like a soulmates fic as well? I dunno. I added in a bunch of new thoughts to how the a/b/o system works and how the animal instincts present themselves in caring relationships and familial behaviors and I'm enjoying that so much better.

But I probably won't have it 100% done by the time I leave for my vacation on Monday. I'm hoping to have it ready to go by late next week. Sorry for the long wait. I'll put some proof down below under the cut.

Completed this week:

A Welcome Home at Resolution Ranch (Jack Daniels)

On the docket:

PATS: Kiss and Tell sessions and GTTT4

Leave Off Your Wandering: Winter and Spring Again

Oberyn sex pollen trope

Javi a/b/o trope

shakespeare mashup trope

modern dom Pero

Losing My Religion 14

Proof of alpha!javi (or rather, not alpha!javi) under the cut.

“Do you think we’ll get married someday? When we’re grown up?” 

It was a rainy day and you were stuck inside, staring out at the waves through the window. Fully invested in watching a gull and its mate fight the wind in order to stay aloft together, you didn’t give much thought to something that seemed so obvious. “Probably.”

After a minute you realized Javi had lost interest in the birds and was picking at a spot on the windowsill. His honey curls hung down long enough to shield his eyes, but still left his chubby cheeks and little pout visible to you.

“What’s wrong, Javi? Don’t you want to marry me when we’re older?”

Even at eight years old, the boy could seemingly carry so much weight on his little heart. “Mother says you’re an omega and you’ll want to marry an alpha.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I can marry who I want.”

“I’m not an alpha. You won’t want me when you’re older.”

You weren’t sure what to say then, as a child nothing seemed so complicated that there couldn’t be an easy solution. “Maybe you’ll become an alpha when you’re older.”

He shook his head mournfully, the rain on the windows sending shadow tear trails down his face. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to be so mean and dominance-driven. Father says even if I was a late presenter, it would have happened by now.”

“Well, I don’t mind, Javi. Even if you’re not an alpha, you smell like one to me and that’s what’s important, right?”

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

6 (continued)

In which we get a closer look at Mercymorn.

And Harrow finds out how to undo the nerve root twist keeping her paralysed; she would do well to heed Mercymorn's warning, tbh. That could have ended badly.

“Lie, Harrow. Now.” “Fifteen,” you said immediately, hoping your own meat would not betray you.

Why does the Body bid Harrow to lie?

I said, Put an age requirement in the letter! I said, Everyone will be pubescent if you don’t! And now we reap what he sowed. Hiss.

Hiss 🤣 Lady Mercymorn, you're funny.

She was right in calling Harrow and Ianthe babies. Idk how old Ianthe is, but she's still young as well. They're young for regular humans, nevermind Lyctors.

“You’ve met our respected elder sister, I see,” Ianthe said. “She accused me of being twelve, called me one of those animaphiliacs, then told me I wasn’t as good looking as someone called Cyrus. It was like being back with Mummy,” she added, with a touch of fond nostalgia.

Good to know Ianthe got the same treatment. Sounds like some Mummy issues are abound as well.

And what is up with this shuttle? We will see.

"Well, Nonagesimus, they do see action when the Cohort suddenly loses three warships to as many orbital radiation missiles, which is three more warships than we’ve lost in the past thousand years,” said Ianthe.

Eighteen thousand dead??? I have a bad feeling about this. Flashbacks to the prologue, when they were under attack from... those insecty things, who seem to be related to that thing the Emperor was talking about before. The Resurrection Beast.

As he drew closer, you could see that he looked as though he had prepared in a hurry; he carried a small bag, hastily packed, slung over his shoulder—the ever-present tablet peeked out of his pocket, along with what seemed to be at least five styluses—and he was dressed simply, as per usual, in a black shirt and trousers.

You know, for the God-Emperor, so venerated by everyone around him, he really just seems like some normal guy. Some totally normal, extremely powerful, practically immortal guy. Kinda like the Lyctors. I wonder what his story is.

Each leaf was intertwined with a match-sized infant fingerbone.

Sorry, anatomy nitpicking again. Infants don't have much in the way of fingerbones, it's mostly still cartilage at that point. What bones they do have in their fingers are going to be much, much smaller than matches.

Unless cartilage counts as bone, for these purposes? We may never know.

He turned to find the beautiful ward completed on the wall, and the Seventh adept quietly dying on the floor. There was a whorl of blood down her front; at some point she had levered her syringe deep into her subclavian artery. [...] Her expression changed from glassy-eyed expectation to resignation; she rolled over to kiss the dusty floor of the shuttle. You and Ianthe were left blinking, eyes and noses streaming, as though you had just eaten something slightly too spicy.

Ah, well, it's not Quite resurrection, as she wasn't Quite dead yet, but close enough. Interesting, the externalised power here, affecting Ianthe and Harrow. I want to study the Emperor and his powers under a microscope.

The non-sequitur conversation between the Emperor and Mercymorn is unnerving. When they start talking again, I have no idea what they're on about. I'm going to keep reading, assuming it will all be explained to me in due course.

She was deeply excited. That starry, far-off gaze refocused on you, and she whispered coyly: “Should we hold hands, in girlish solidarity?” At your expression, she puffed away a strand of colourless hair and remarked, “You’re the one who investigated my tonsils.”

Lmao, good point. I'm guessing that means she doesn't know the reason for the kiss - which I can only take as good news.

The shuttle might as well have been empty for all that you could sense within, except for that single foetal bundle of thanergy lying still inside the coffin.

Cytherea's, if I remember correctly. Ominous that Thalergy remains this long after she died.

Ohhh, we're getting more insight into The River and how it works. Absolutely Fascinating. It's like subspace, but also the underworld/afterlife, and apparently, full of man-eating monsters.

Interesting!! Sounds like a great place to take your two babyfaced new Lyctors to/through.

Mercy said lowly: “It turned out that being sensible and brilliant and careful doesn’t keep you from getting ripped to shreds by ten thousand feral ghosts.” Ianthe said, “But the Beast—?” “Emerged unscathed twenty minutes later,” the Emperor said. And: “Life’s a bitch.”

I wholeheartedly agree. It seems everyone here is grieving in some way.

You recalled the enormous construction of regrowing bone, your hands encased in it so that you could not wrench yourself free, your mind voyaging nauseously into the chamber of another person’s brain. God said, “You’ll need that skillset now."

How conveniently the narration/Harrow's memories twist themselves to avoid ever even mentioning Gideon.

And they're in the River, and this concludes the liveblog for the night. See you probably tomorrow for Chapter 7.