#please help my friend is going wacky

[achillermcwheeler]

Imagine your friend playing error 143 so much he finds updates before they're announced.

I don't need to imagine that. He's playing it right now. He found the new updates in class. Right now. He's playing right next to me. He's insane.

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[karlachismylife]

i told myself i'll take a break in my failing attempts to write a couple things on Karlach x Soap in english and go back to writing a couple other things in my first language for the upcoming fandom combat deadline

so here's a thing i wrote instead and it's neither of those :D

Very much inspired by my precious friend that is obsessed with some datesim I know nothing about and talks my ear off about her sexy chinese dudes while I make her listen to me simping for my dead scottish ADHD meow meow. We don't know shit about each other's fandoms but we're so excited for each other... Also excuse me if this idea has already been done (I swear I thought of it on my own, but I will tag anyone who's done this before if you send me a link) + my English writing still sucks.

I also encourage you to check out these smaus, they're brilliant and I somewhat looked at them when wrote Kyle's text messages and this wonderful thing about Ghost and Animal Crossing that also inspired me to look into these silly military men and mobile/video games.

Task force 141 and their reaction to their S/O playing dating simulator games

CW: gn!civilian!reader (if I slipped into one or the other gender somewhere, please tell me & I'll correct), mostly fluff with a bit of spice, pet names, mild cursing, unserious jealousy and banter, long-distance (Gaz), describing nudes and mild sexting (Gaz), soft Ghost, mentioned spanking (Price), mild dom!Price, alluded reader recieveing fingerng and oral (Soap)

Word count: ~5k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

That silly app you downloaded because its (very compelling) ads were repeatedly shoved in your face became surprisingly convenient when Gaz got deployed and wasn't within reach for weeks. A slightly clay-looking guy on your screen didn't hold up in comparison to the smoothest bastard sergeant with the tightest grip on your heart, but a cute feature with app notifications stylized as loving text messages from the virtual boyfriend somehow helped cope with the radio silence from Kyle. You knew he would be fine, how could he not? You gave him a very proper goodbye kiss (and goodbye sex that was a bit more improper) for luck, and he was too damn good at his job to fail. You weren't going insane from worry, at least not more than usually.

But the loneliness, the fucking loneliness was a little bit more bearable when you still got your "good morning beautiful xx" and "thinking about you before bed" even though the font was wacky and some phrases were clearly poorly google translated. To unlock these little snippets you opened the app every day, usually tapping mindlessly on all the required interactions before going to sleep and eyeing some of the ingame wardrobe options that wouldn't work too bad on your man. In fact, you even took a screenshot of a nice suit - if tailored right, Kyle would look in it sharper than the tactical knife he knew so well. You just needed an opportunity to show it to him.

And the opportunity barged in with a sudden surge of texts right when you were already getting ready for some shut-eye.

Three weeks of muffled unease wiped out and replaced with that never-tiring giddy feeling bubbling inside as soon as you saw Kyle's name pop up on top of your screen.

"hi baby"

"finally can text, miss you terribly 😘"

"what are you up to angel?"

You could feel your own cheeks strain with the stupid smile plastered on your face. No doubt, Kyle texted you at the first opportunity - he was there, he was okay and he missed you. All sleepiness in your body withered away, leaving you energized at eleven pm, squirming in your bed as you rolled over to start vigorously typing back. You never knew how much time you both have to chat, unstable signal or simply never-ending duty could interrupt you at any given moment, so you had to get your fill of premium class Garrick right there and then - no matter how drowsy it would make you the next morning.

Eventually you sent him the screenshot you took without second thoughts:

"btw thought you'd look good in smth like this baby, what do you think?"

Instead of a normal reply on the topic, though, you recieved an immediate jab followed by short pause:

"the fuck is that baby? 🤣"

"wait i think i know"

"replacing me with a vr boyfriend already? jesus fuck angel i haven't been away even for a month"

"i'm wounded, truly. he doesn't even look that good and can't spell correctly. what a downgrade 😔"

If only you could communicate the muscle-straining eyeroll you had through text. Chuckling and snorting, you immediately came to defence of your pixel prince charming, simply for the sake of it.

"how dare you. he's not a mere replacement, this is true love, garrick 💕🥰❤️✨"

"look at the top, we're already level 29 intimacy"

"gonna get him to send me nudes soon, they unlock at lvl 30"

Gaz could probably hear your bratty giggles on the other side of the globe, sheets rustling as you wiggled in your bed, absolutely proud of your impeccably fine-tuned wit and properly excited for the upcoming smartass comeback, since Kyle would rather die than let you have a win. But you've already calmed down with your cheeks mildly flushed, and the messages were still left on read.

Weird. It wasn't the first time your chatting ended abruptly, but usually Kyle had time at least to tell you he had to go - maybe even exchange little "ily"s. Did the signal cut off? But it was good enough for him to download a picture even, surely he'd notice if it started lagging and tell you. Did something bad happen? An emergency? An ambush?

A slight frown etched in your face as you started unwillingly thinking of the worst. Then - in a moment - that little green circle signaling Gaz was online came back. And still no answer.

Did he... get actually upset? Over a fucking datesim app?

It was hard to believe. Impossible, even. Kyle was never prone to jealosy fits, smug bastard definitely knew how secure you two were. But maybe... maybe it was the fact that you were seeking comfort he couldn't provide? Being told you needed a whole ass app simply to tell you goodnight while he was god knows where, unable to hold you and cuddle you to sleep - that could sting.

Shit, you shouldn't have started this. Gaz wouldn't outright admit he felt even the slightest bit insecure over an unblinking 3D monstrosity with a sexy Korean voice. He'd think it was stupid - and he would be right, frankly, but in this case this wasn't completely unreasonable.

Already anxious, you put your thumbs back on the phone to type out a careful question, but before you could even think of a right way to formulate it the chat chirped and loaded in a bunch of attachments.

Absolutely scandalous. Hastly unndone uniform, sweaty shirt pulled up and - you knew it even if it was outside the frame - clutched in his teeth, bared in a self-assured smirk, belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops of pants pulled down just a bit; just enough for his hand to slip inside and gather into a delicious grasp around the bulge you knew was straining against his boxers. Fucking tease, pulling the elastic band with his thumb to let you see just the base of his cock - you had to swipe several mouth-watering closeups on his chest, v-line beautifully adorned with dark hair and that bloody hand you already ached to feel on your thigh, before you finally got your reward. Hard just from the thought of you, tip glistening with the pre-cum he definitely smeared all over specifically for that picture.

"wanted to ask if your pixel bf can beat these"

"but i think your silence already says enough 😏"

You groaned, belly warm with the familiar longing. What an angel of a man, finding time to somehow snap packs of perfect nudes in the middle of wherever he was. Already turning over to slide your hand down your body, you sent a very sulking "hate you garrick. first made me worried and now horny, shameless bastard" and got an obligatory "sure you do. i'll fuck that attitude outta you as soon as i get back angel".

Somehow all the need in a virtual replacement vanished after this chat. Not only did Kyle text you more regularly - sensing a competition maybe, huh? - but you also got yourself enough material to be comforted before sleep. Sure, you'd rather have your man there in person, but no perfect-looking anime prince could offer a view better than Kyle's flexed arms or a cheeky sneak peek of his plump ass and a smooth back arch snapped over his shoulder.

No wonder you two threw yourselves at each other when Gaz finally showed up home, tired and a little roghed up, but very much alive and pent up for you. Once you were done relieving some of that frustration and cuddled up after a nice, hot shower, though, Kyle nipped your earlobe teasingly.

"No such level to unlock this experience, huh, angel? Something your app boytoy can't provide."

He caught your arm before you could elbow him playfully and grasped you tighter aroung your waist, using his free hand to get his phone and hold it in front of your face.

"Besides, I think he likes me more."

"How the fuck did you get to level sixty, Garrick?!"

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Twilight was peaking how many years ago? And they still have this stupid choice everywhere."

Simon, the unmoving domestic shadow spread in a comfortable sitting position on your couch for the daily quiet together time, turned his head lazily and gently squeezed your thigh, careful not to disturb your legs thrown over his lap as he leaned a bit closer with a mildly interested "Hm?"

"It's this dating game. They're making me choose between a vampire and a werewolf. Can't think of another conflict for the last decade, really? Why not elves versus orcs? They never make stories about sexy orcs. But there's a market for it! Why stick to the same broken record all the time? Or, I don't know, invent beef between fairies and mermaids!" You huffed in exasperation, waving your phone in a vague gesture meant to express your disdain for the lack of creativity in the supernatural romance visual novels department. Ghost's usual intense stare boring into your face could mean anything - from him silently judging you for lacking respect for the culturally impactful vampries-werewolves feud to a wordless question whether you were in the sexy orc enjoyers market.

But when he finally spoke, scarred lips slightly curled upwards in a hint of an amused smile and eyebrows raised, he asked what seemed to catch his attention much more than what fantasy creature you would like to bang.

"A dating game?" His smirk became more prominent, eyes narrowing as an indicator of him looking for a way to quip in the most unbearable way possible. "What's all that about, love?"

The fact that he didn't know wasn't that surprising, you'd be much more astonished if Ghost did know what a dating simulator game was, but the need to explain still caught you off guard, forcing you to pause with the expressive phone gesturing and actually try and describe the phenomenon.

"Well, it's a mobile game, where you, like... have to play through a story with the main thing being befriending and romancing characters. It's mostly reading a story, really, but you get dialogue options to unlock special scenes with your chosen romantic interest or you can give them gifts..." A stolen glance at Simon told you that he was surprsingly paying attention. "But there's often a plot too. The one I started recently is about, well, vampires and werewolves... a Twilight ripoff, basically, but the player gets to be Bella." You paused, gauging his reaction, but other than his calloused fingers kneading the meat of your thigh Ghost didn't even move, leaving you to look at him with suspicion mixed with amusement. "Want me to show you?.."

Finally, his hand stopped its methodical massaging, only to pat your thigh approvingly and help you sit up, cozily snuggled up to the man whose hoodie you shamelessly stole just to wear around him. Wrapping his muscular arm around you, Ghost leaned his head against yours and prepared for the highly educational lecture on the world full of opportunities to get turned down because of having too low approval with the character.

You showed him the exact story that got you so riled up, explained the quite primitive mechanics behind gaining attraction points with the characters and rehashed the entire plot up to the point where you were stuck now - the one where it was obvious the game wanted you to pick a side. Simon listened carefully, gruff chuckles at some of your grumbling and a lot of very insightful commentary on each and every character ("that one's got Johnny's fucking mighty schnotz" and " 'course he's a fucking twat, look at his bloody necktie, a hemp one would be an improvement on 'im"), inculding your own avatar that you spent considerable time making to look like you wanted.

"That supposed to be you, love?" He didn't even try to mask the snarky tone, and you definitely prepared to be offended. You put so much thought into the character looks! So what if they didn't match your real ones fully? It's the game limitations, not your fault. "Hmph. Maybe good enough for these two muppets to fight over. But I reckon I like my version better. Comes with high-quality visuals."

His arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you up for a short and sweet kiss, rough thumb stroking your jawline tenderly and pressing up under your chin when Ghost pulled away with a crooked smirk, shattered with scars into an artful mosaic.

"Trying to get your approval higher, sir?" You teased, eyes darting between his smiling - what a view, honestly - eyes and ready to be kissed again lips. His response was predictable. "It's working, innit, love? Think there's enough for a special bonus scene yet?"

Despite you clearly pretending to think and count his imaginary attraction points, Simon already started pulling you up into his lap, holding you securely and running his fingers along the curve of your back. "Might need a little more convincing, gamer. You didn't even bring a special gift to this date." Ghost's half-lidded eyes sparkled with hidden competitevness and his chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he reached out to take your phone out of your hand softly.

"Gave you the hoodie. It counts." Ignoring your not very convincing protests ("It's mine already, of course it doesn't count!"), he tapped something on your screen and then put the phone away, wrapping his arms back around your form and slowly leaning into a tangled cuddlepile in an almost lying position. All your squirming successfully restrained with a bearhug, you huffed and placed your chin on Ghost's chest, looking up at him. He was there, with you, but deep in his gaze you noticed a certain swrling cloud of thoughts. Reading Simon's eyes was a must with him, he knew you could and didn't ever hide them from you.

"What are you thinking about?" You carefully inquired, running your hands over his shoulders and squeezing gently, a habit helping both of you to ease some tension. Simon blinked, tilting his head slightly, and let out a small sigh, seeking the right words. "You're not playing that game because I'm not doing enough, are you, lovie? 'Cos if you are, I'd rather you tell me what's wrong."

Always straight to the point. At least, when he finally decides to speak up. The big, scary dog worried about a silly mobile game as his competition? Cute. But the seriousness in his eyes called for a proper answer, not a teasing joke or a simple "aww, don't worry".

"You're doing more than enough, Simon, and you know it. It's a game, just living out my fantasies as the main character. But I can delete it if it makes you uncomfortable, it's no big deal, you know?" The tiniest bit of tension you felt underneath your fingertips disappeared, leaving Ghost sinking even further into the couch with you properly wrapped in his protective embrace.

"Nah, gorgeous, you keep playin' whatever shite you wanna be playin'. Just promise to keep me updated on the bloke so I can upstage him in every way." His voice got muffled since he buried his face in your chest, eyes closed peacefully and pure bliss written in all the relaxed features. Cradling his head, you hummed in agreement, but then perked up again.

"Wait, what bloke? You picked one of them for me?" - "Mhm." - "Oh come on, Simon, what happened to the freedom of choice!" You could feel his smile get more prominent despite being hidden in the softness of your chest covered with the thick hoodie material. "Which one did you choose? The vampire 'cause he's wearing all black?"

"Nuh-uh. The other one. The mutt."

You giggled at his choice of words and let out a quiet "oi" when Simon pinched you for disturbing his calm enjoyment of a "bonus scene" with the chosen romance option, that being you.

"Why? You're a Wolf Man fan or something?"

"'f course I am, love. He's British."

Captain John Price

When you saw the notification that the game you got sucked into with the active help of your friends got a "sound update", you knew what that meant - they finally added English voiceover lines for every single hunk of a man you had in your virtual harem, and you couldn't wait to hear what voices they gave your favourites. Given the nature of the game, you decided to put your earbuds on and started listening through the whole voicelines library, busying your hands with mundane tasks like folding laundry. John was sitting in the kitchen, fully immersed into his reading - potentially work-related. Or at least enthralling enough for him to miss your flushed cheeks or periodical giggling.

But no matter how important his reading was, what he couldn't miss was the sultry male voice coming out of your phone with a whispered "Wouldn't you love that, bunny?". Of course the parinig connection between your phone and the wireless earbuds had to get interrupted exactly when you were pouring yourself a cuppa and couldn't even drop the kettle in order to shush the suggestive purring of your digital fave.

You could feel Price staring at you. You could practically hear his bushy eyebrows slowly rising as he patiently waited for you to say something first. You were fully contemplating brewing yourself some poison instead of tea to avoid getting confronted by your man who just heard someone call you bunny on the phone.

So when you didn't start first, John, more amused than anything - he knew you too well to read through all your tiny microreactions and conclude that this wasn't hardcore evidence of an affair, but something much more suitable for future teasing (were you listening to porn or something? a naughty audiobook? oh so many golden opportunities to make you squirm under the steel gaze of the captain) - asked very nonchalantly: "What was that, darling?"

"What?" There was no point in pretending you didn't know what he's talking about, but you still tried. If anything, it allowed you to stall while you very hesitantly turned around and saw John and his smile, not even a hint of sterness in the round plumpness of bearded cheeks and little crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. "What was what, honey? You want some tea too?"

A futile attempt at deflecting and bribery rolled into one. You were lucky you were not his subordinate. You were unlucky the voice of some other man, dripping with mirth, came back into your ear once the next voiceline loaded in and the connection with your earbuds got restored. This was equal to admitting your crimes in front of the judges, but you slowly took your phone out of your pocket and hit pause.

"Does the tea come with an explnation who's the bloke whispering in your pretty ears, bunny? 'Cos if so, I'll take a cuppa, thank you very much."

He was beaming. Leaned back in his chair, knees wide apart and burly arms folded on his chest, Price wanted to have a wee little pause in his serious reading, and watching you squirm was the best distraction and brain-reloading he could ever get.

"I-it's not like that, I promise." Was that a bead of sweat running down your nape? John grunted, cocking an eyebrow and pushing his chin into his chest to stare at you from an angle that best conveyed that "I am not convinced, love" look. "It's just a little game, John, promise. Not a real man, just a made-up character."

Those piercing eyes narrowed even more, silently measuring you up for potentially bullshitting him, and then a heavy hand patted the broad thigh. An order, not an invitation (an order you could always disobey, though...)

"Show me."

Forgetting the option to disobey with little consequences, you hung your head down and dragged yourself and your fresh cuppa over to John, settling in his lap. The tea didn't even make it to the table, he snatched it from your fingers, careful enough not to spill, and sipped loudly, patting your side condescendingly. Any more stalling could result in various stages of burning buttocks, so you complied with the demand without Price repeating himself and opened the app, disconnecting your earbuds in the process.

He clearly wanted to hear that embarassing shit.

Your explanations of what a datesim was seemed to amuse John greatly - knowing his love for farming games, you made sure to mention all the best ones mixing the two genres, clearly trying to sweeten the deal.

"So wha', sum muppet in your phone callin' you bunny and you like 't? Maybe I should start too, huh?" You had to close your eyes to stop the internal screaming, and John's gruff chuckle hit your burning ear with a gentle puff. "But these, erm..." - "Companions." - "Riiight, these companions, they ain't whispering something... naughtier, are they?"

There was a hint of seriousness in his question, so you opened your eyes again and turned to look at him. His face was still smiling calmly, but the expectation was that of an honest and direct answer.

"Well, they do have more explicit scenarios and voicelines..." - "They talkin' dirty to you, eh? Guess I should step up my game." He flexed his jaw and leaned even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips over the tender shell of your ear, soft beard tickling you and leaving you helpless. "Can't have my sweetheart wooed by sum app game fockers, can I? C'mere you little bunny, Imma show you sumthin' to hop on."

He stood up suddenly, lifting you with a soft grunt and dragging you away from the forgotten phone and empty cup. No amount of "John!" squeaked out could save you from that bear of a man groping your ass before throwing you onto bed and climbing on top. His weight squeezed the air out of your lungs as he roamed his big palmes all over your sweet body, even more enthusiastic about the impromptu break in his work.

"Ugh, fine, Johnathan Price, I won't be listening to the spicy dialogues! Just let me finish my-" Absolutely futile, your plea to get back to housework you had planned got cut short by a deep kiss, John's tongue sliding in your mouth as the most efficient (okay, maybe, second most) gag he could use on you. Your hands, previously pressed against his furry chest in an attempt to push him off, relaxed and buried themselves in his thick hair, ruffliing it and tugging him closer by the strands. A low grunt let you know what you already knew and felt much lower - John fully approved both that and your promise to keep away from the horny digital harem.

"Why even bother with 'em bloody games when you can 'ave the real thing, huh?"

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Whit are ye smiling at there, bonnie?"

Before you could even process the question and come up with any answer (excuse) about the silliest giddy smile that a cutscene in your chosen romance route got out of you, your massive - the only way to not be thrown off by Johny "Can't Sleep Still" MacTavish - bed creaked underneath the impressive weight of a fine Scottish specimen. Like a curious pup, Soap squeezed his head through the loop of your arm, earning himself a choking cuddle in the process, and stared into your screen.

"No, Johnny, piss off! It's personal!" You scrambled to turn your phone away from him and held it to your chest, a traitorous warmth in your cheeks threatening to give away what kind of personal it was. Of course, Soap caught on immediately, playful glint in his eyes as he simply yanked the phone out of your grip and turned over onto his back, shamelessly using you as a pillow while he unlocked your screen (why the fuck were you two so trusting and shared passwords!) and looked at the animated cutscene.

And why did it have to be the first spicy one you finally unlocked?

"What's tha'? Didnae peg ye fur a hentai type, bonnie." Soap watched the looped animation for a few more seconds while you wrestled against his heavy fucking carcass helplessly. With a single tap he closed the cutscene and let out an amused hum when met with the continuation of your unlocked chapter. "Och, so ye're reading smut too? Naughty."

You squirmed visciously, fighting for your dignity as he started reading aloud through the desciption of what didn't make the cutscene. The experience was downright horrible, humiliating and arousing at the same time as Johnny's thick brogue and mocking tone killed every ounce of spice in the steamy scene and somehow added new ones. Along with his stuttering. This lad... you even tried to grab his arm and chew on the meaty muscle in hopes of distracting him, but he didn't even flinch, simply pulling his limb out of your grasp and putting it behind his head comfortably. Outraging.

"Slender aristocratic fingers squeezing supple..." he smacked his lips so loudly that you groaned, "...flesh nae hard enough tae leave marks, but enough tae el... elicit pleasure, his breath hot in yer ear, whispering... Hauld yer horses- how come is yer name 'ere, bonnie? Who's writing this fur ye?" You nearly bounced off the bed when Soap suddenly sat up straight, relieving you from his (quite welcome, to be fair) burden, and frowned at your phone, scrolling through the erotc piece as if he could figure out who was the author just from reading it carefully enough. The pout he turned to you with was nothing short of absolutely heartbreaking. "Who's tha' "Laird Sebastian" prick writing a' kinds of nasty shite he wants tae dae tae ma' leannan? Am ah nae enough fur ye, bonnie? Dae ye wanntae leave me fur some posh bastard wi' a stick so far up his arse tha' it pokes outta his yapper?"

It was so obvious that Soap was just taking the piss, but his bottomless puppy eyes with the longest lashes fluttering as if on the verge of tears were working their dark magic, crashing your train of thought like a whole gang of outlaws from the Wild West and coercing you into making an apologetic expression and reaching your arms pleadingly for a hug. "Aw, come on, Johnny, it's just a-"

"Ah dinnae think tis a good idea, love. Ah dinnae have slender aristocratic fingers, wha' if a'm awful lot o' a commoner tae yer tastes..." Soap tilted his chin up, a perfect depiction of dignity suffering horrible offence, and turned away defiently, immediately peeking back at you from the corner of his twinkling blue eye. You knew those little smiling creases too well to miss them forming despite him holding a pout quite successfully, so you scoffed, still slightly flushed from being caught red-handed, and rolled your eyes, snuggling up to Johnny from behind and starting to kiss behind his ear.

"I'm so, so sorry, love of my life. No posh bastards come nowhere near you, you're my favourite commoner. Fuck Lord Sebastian-" You realized you chose the wrong wording when Soap couldn't hold back a snort. "Aye, well, seems lik' ye were planning on doing exactly tha-" - "Oh shut the fuck up, MacTavish!"

Shut the fuck up he did, turning back to face you abruptly and tackling you into the sheets, lavishing kisses with his searing hot lips all over your face. A real mutt pouncing the handler he has no respect and all the love for. There was no choice left for you other than wrap all your limbs around Soap and writhe underneath him, nearly missing that very inconspicuous way he reached his arm out and dropped your phone on the nightstand before cradling your head for much deeper, sloppier kisses.

"Gonna show tha' laird sod how tae fuck mah bonnie real good, aye? Mak' ye come wi' thae fingers right 'ere, nae aristocrat bullshit." Lapping up your neck with his wet tongue, Soap planted a greedy kiss right underneath your jaw and sucked at the soft skin until it showed a little pinkish hue. The bastard was set on making you sing for him, big rough palms grabbing handfuls of your flesh, squeezing and massaging while Johnny kept decending down your body with clear determination. "C'mon, leannan, let me hear ye. Say yer ol' Johnny's better than tha' bawbag Sebastian."

Sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, you held his nape before tugging on his slightly outgrown mohawk, your own head falling backwards in an exhausted yet adoring sigh.

"You know it's just a game, right, loverboy? A dating simulator, not a real thing? Oi, watch it!" A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Soap chomped on your side and immediately nuzzled into your stomach to blow raspberries into the soft plush, catching you once you started squirming and giggling. No intention of letting you catch your breath until he heard what he wanted. "Fine! Fine, Johnny, you are so, so much better than Lord Sebastian."

Satisfied, he loosened his grasp on you and lifted his head, grinning like he's just won you over from somene actually threatening in terms of romance. Hooked his fingers into your housewear bottoms, slowly tugged them down and started trailing hot-mouthed kisses down from your solar plexus, sky blue eyes glazing over with the never-satiated hunger for your taste on his greedy tongue.

You held your breath. A joke was itching inside your mouth, begging to be let out, dancing on the tip of your tongue...

"You're lucky I didn't choose Duke Aaron's route. That's some serious competion."

"Och, away 'n bile yer heid, bonnie!"

Thank you for reading! I appreciate all interactions, likes, reblogs, comments and requests (send in anything for now! I can filter them myself, but I am open to smut, including rare kinks and some dark themes. Keep in mind though that I am limited by my skill & overall prefer sugary fluff. I will write for any of the task force 141 and baldur's gate characters, including parings, poly, x reader and x OC), I will write drabbles, headcanons and whatever else formats you can think of.

Also any corrections are welcome as long as you're not being mean! Thank you <3

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Three

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART TWO

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Certain thoughts and feelings are starting to arise in Wanda whenver she looks at you (god forbid she touches you). Despite these feelings, Wanda has no idea how to shift the dynamic. Resigned, Wanda knows she needs to ask for help and the advice she gets is probably going to land her in another bizzare plan.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: another wacky plan that probably is gonna get Wanda in trouble LOL

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~3.8k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda lays with her arm behind her head, staring at the ceiling while she waits for you to finish in the bathroom. 

This was an opportunity, wasn't it?

Alone at night, in one bed, in close proximity—this would be the perfect opportunity for Wanda to make a move, isn't it? The perfect opportunity to create some sexual tension so that you'd look at Wanda differently. 

So...so, should she—Wanda gulps—cuddle you?

You and Wanda have cuddled many times in the past. It was nice to have someone to snuggle up to when watching a movie; the habit slid right into place so easily. 

But those times had been innocent. Wanda hadn't been thinking anything about it other than how comforting it was. 

Now—Wanda's thinking about other things. Touching would be exciting—exhilarating, even. 

Yet, the more Wanda thinks about it, the more rigid she becomes. 

Should she...should she just try to wrap her arms around you like usual? Or should she try to get a little frisky and "accidentally" let her fingers trail underneath your shirt?

Wanda blushes so hard, rolling over completely, and pushes her face into her pillow. She screws her eyes shut. 

God, she wanted to scream. 

"Are you trying to suffocate yourself to go to sleep?"

The sudden voice makes Wanda turn over. You enter the room with a tiny smile on your lips as you toss your worn clothes onto a chair in the corner. Your PJs consist of a worn-in oversized t-shirt and shorts, though Wanda knows the shorts are mostly for her sake as you prefer to sleep without them. 

Oh, if you only knew Wanda had absolutely no qualms about you sleeping without them. In fact, to be generous, Wanda could insist you sleep without your shirt, too. 

Wanda takes a deep breath, trying to will the blood in her cheeks to leave. Her head is slightly dizzy from the thoughts.  

"You know how I am if I wake up in the middle of the night," Wanda sits up and replies wryly, clearing her throat as it's suddenly dry. 

You grab a water bottle from your desk, opening it to take a sip before you close it and toss it towards her. Wanda catches it, opening it immediately to take a gulp of water. She stares at you as you apply chapstick to your lips for the night before you shut off the lights and make your way toward the bed. 

In the dark, Wanda feels her heart start to race with anticipation. The bed dips, and Wanda takes a shaky breath as she closes the water bottle and sets it aside. She lays back, staring at the ceiling, hearing your soft sigh of contentment of finally being in bed. 

You're lying on your side facing Wanda, but when she turns her head to the side, your eyes are closed as you breathe steadily, trying to fall asleep.

Wanda swallows. She wants things to change so badly. Wanda wants you to look at her differently, to notice that as the blueprint to your type, you could just have the original—if that was what this is all about.

So, Wanda turns on her side, blood pumping in her ears, making it nearly impossible to hear anything as she shuffles closer to you. You've only been on one date with Raye, and it didn't even end with sex. It's not cheating, Wanda tells herself. It's really not. 

When Wanda's face to face with you, her limbs almost feel numb. She wants to do something, but she doesn't even know what. The more she thinks about being bold, the shyer she's getting. 

Wanda's starting to chicken out. 

Wanda's hand pauses right in the middle of the space between you two. 

This is so stupid, Wanda thinks. She's never going to be more to you than just a friend. You're never going to think about her the way she thinks about you. You—

Fingers slide between hers, grasping her hand flat against the bed. 

"Do you remember the first time we had a sleepover?" Your voice carries through the quiet of the night, somehow gentle but crisp as it makes its way to Wanda's ears. 

"You mean when I cried because I'd never slept anywhere other than at home and was scared of the dark?" Wanda replies wryly. 

Those days were long gone, and right now, she's grateful the dark can hide her red cheeks. 

You laugh. "Yeah, but then you still didn't want to leave and made me hold your hand the entire night."

Wanda groans, caught between wanting to pull her hand away in embarrassment but liking the feel of your hand too much.

"I remember holding your hand so seriously because I couldn't let my best friend be so sad, especially after she wanted to stay despite crying," you chuckle quieter this time. "I kind of miss those days; they were simpler."

"What do you mean?" Wanda feels you stroking the back of her hand with your index finger in a small line.

"Back then, you used to cry about the dark and scraped knees, and I could make it better by just holding your hand. Now, you cry about boys breaking your heart and homesickness, and you're still sad after I hold your hand," You sigh like it's your fault.

"I'm not sad," Wanda insists, a whine in her tone. 

"That's why you crawled into my bed at midnight?" Even though Wanda can't see, she can tell you have your brow raised. 

"Maybe I just want you to hold me," Wanda bravely says. Her heart is doing that thing again, and she thinks she might actually be entering into cardiac arrest. The cowardly part of her backs out and softens the statement. "Maybe at 14, hand-holding was enough to solve the dark and scraped knees, but as adults, we need something else."

It's quiet, and for a second, Wanda thinks she might've made a terrible decision and wants to burst out crying. Her words are caught in her throat, and her breathing feels shallow. Even though she doesn't really want to, she's about to tell you she's just joking, but you move closer.

It's slow as if you're trying to be careful not to make the wrong move, like accidentally kneeing her in the crotch. You move like you're trying to make sure everything slots together perfectly. 

The hand-holding is gone with her arms over your waist, and yours are over hers. Your hand settles loosely against her back, the warmth of your palm seeping through her shirt. Her face is pressed against your chest, and the embrace is warm. 

Wanda doesn't know what to feel; it's too much at once. She feels warm, nervous, horny, content, and mostly dizzy. 

"So, you admit you are sad," you joke quietly in the dark. "I knew it, you lying brat."

Despite the dizziness, Wanda gumbles, "I'm not sad, you stinky accuser."

"So, you don't feel better then?"

There's a moment of silence again. Wanda doesn't know how to quite articulate how she's feeling. She is better, she supposes. But she also feels crazier. 

"Yeah, this is better," Wanda manages to say. "14-year-old us wouldn't even be able to wrap our heads around this."

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession with laughter. "Oh my god, shut up and sleep."

Wanda mutters something, but it's completely unintelligible. Time passes too quickly, and Wanda slowly starts falling asleep again. 

It's not quite the sexual tension she hoped for, but this was just as good. 

"Just a heads up, I expect to be the little spoon at some point. Return the favor, brat."

Wanda smiles. No, this was perfect.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda takes a deep breath, letting her eyes flutter close momentarily. 

She knows she can't delay this anymore. Wanda's hit a wall in her progress, and she needs to admit that she doesn't know what she's doing anymore—not that she really knew what she was doing in the first place.

This was going to change everything—somehow make it more real. The thought of it makes Wanda somewhat glum, but she resigns herself before she takes another breath and rings the doorbell. 

Wanda hears footsteps approaching the door before it opens, and Natasha stands there with an iced coffee in her hand. 

"Oh, Wanda," she blinks in surprise, "I didn't expect to see you."

"Really?" Wanda asks dryly. "Even after you texted me that you were bored with nothing to do today 6 times in a row this morning?"

"Yes, and like the terrible friend you are, you were pointedly ignoring it," Natasha raises her brow at Wanda.

"I wasn't ignoring it," Wanda denies. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Natasha snorts but then opens her door wider, stepping to the side to let Wanda in. Once inside, they make their way to the kitchen, and Natasha begins fixing Wanda a cup of cold brew.

"Want anything in it?"

"Do you have oat milk?"

Natasha hums absently, but Wanda knows the redhead heard her. As her drink is being made, Wanda taps her fingers against the counter, feeling the nerves thrum against her veins. She's unsure how to bring it up but doesn't want to beat around the bush. There's a time crunch, and Wanda can't afford to waste any more time. 

"Natasha," Wanda says just as Natasha sets her cup down. "I'm in love with—"

"Bug?" Natasha cuts in. "Yeah, I know."

Wanda's jaw drops. "What?" She says before she slumps in her seat. "Is it because of our phone call a couple of weeks ago, or did you suspect all along?"

"No, I mean, kind of yes," Natasha scrunches her nose. "I don't know if I would say I suspected all along. You've always been close to Bug, but she was always quick to correct anyone back then that you were just friends, and to be fair, nothing happened. I think soulmates can exist as friends too." 

Wanda purses her lips but nods, and Natasha gives her a smile.

"But," Natasha interjects. "I did start to suspect after our phone call. I mean, you and Bug do everything together, so honestly, I wasn't that shocked if you both wanted to get married at the same time and live in houses next to each other. I think it was more the fact of how upset you got."

"Yeah," Wanda sighs, rubbing her temples.

"But mostly, I knew because Yelena told me."

"What!?" Wanda squawks. "She wasn't supposed to tell anyone!"

"I'm not anyone," Natasha sticks her tongue out. "I'm her sister. We gossip almost daily."

"Ugh, did she tell you—"

"How you took her on the worst date of her life and stalked Bug and Raye? Yeah," Natasha looks sympathetic. "I'm glad you went home instead of waiting outside while they did it."

"They didn't do it!" Wanda jumps up in her seat. "Apparently Raye got hung up on a phone call, so it didn't happen and she came home."

"Oh, really?" Natasha's brow scrunches together. "Raye—"

"What?" Wanda interjects. "Is Raye saying they slept together? What a dirty liar—"

"God, no—" Natasha rolls her eyes. "Calm the fuck down, jeez. Raye didn't say they did, but she didn't say they didn't either. Unfortunately, you won't be able to use that as an excuse to break them up."

Wanda groans, slumping back into her chair again. She reaches for her cold brew and sips at it dejectedly. 

"So, spill," Natasha prods. "After all these years, why did you suddenly get a change in feelings? Is that why you ended things with Vision on Yelena's birthday?"

"I don't know if it's sudden," Wanda mumbles but launches into a long monologue of everything that's happened since Stupid Steve dropped the information bomb on her and every single thought that accompanied each event.  

45 long minutes pass before Wanda finishes with how she's been more cuddly the last week but is having trouble moving past that. 

"Have you managed to create any sexual tension?"

"No," Wanda sighs frustratedly. "I don't know what to do! In our years of friendship, I've changed in front of her before and worn sexy outfits, and we already have physical affection between us. Nothing has ever happened and it was never weird. I don't know how to change things!"

"Why don't you just confess to her?" Natasha asks with a tilt of her head.

Wanda scoffs as if that's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. "Because she only sees me as a friend, so I can't confess until she sees me as a potential partner. It will clearly boost the odds of my confession being accepted, duh."

"Right," Natasha replies dryly. 

"So?" Wanda taps her nails on the counter impatiently. "Do you have any advice or should I ask Yelena?"

"As if," Natasha snorts. "Yelena's idea of flirting is bullying. It's a miracle that Kate hasn't tried to cancel her on social media. I highly doubt Yelena's method will work for you."

"So, what should I do?" Wanda laments. 

Natasha hums. "I guess it's true you've been friends so long that normal things other people would do wouldn't work for you. She has seen you in so many sexy clubbing outfits and hasn't done anything, and unless you start groping her private bits, I don't think physical touch will spark anything new."

"This is great advice," Wanda says sarcastically.

"But do you know how to make those things work?" Natasha asks, rolling her eyes at Wanda's tone. "You need to make her aware that you could potentially be hers."

"I've literally just said—"

"Right now, you're just her best friend that's probably going to end up dating another guy. And as long as she thinks that, those things will never work because in her brain, she can only see you as a friend," Natasha cuts Wanda off. 

"Okay, so..." Wanda drags out so that Natasha will continue on. This was making sense and leading somewhere!

"So, there's two new things you need to add to your relationship," Natasha pauses. "Awareness and jealousy—and not the jealousy like 6 years ago when you thought that exchange student was replacing you as her best friend."

"In my defense, Shuri was trying to," Wanda gripes.

"You know what you need to do?" Natasha ignores Wanda's comment. 

"What?" Wanda asks warily because Natasha has that smile on her face. And when she gets that smile, something crazy is about to come out of her mouth.

"Tony and Pepper's 10-year anniversary party is next Saturday, right? You need to bring a date. A girl date," Natasha grins. 

"But I don't want to date other girls," Wanda groans. "Plus, how am I supposed to get a girl to go on a date with me if I need to tell her it's actually to make someone else jealous. That's literally terrible to hide."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Natasha waves her hand nonchalantly. "I have a coworker who can help. She owes me one, so she'll do it without actually expecting anything."

Wanda is in disbelief. 

Natasha then perks up. "Actually, this is perfect because to really open up Bug's eyes, the person you go on a date with should be similar to her. Then, she'll think about how she could be dating you. This coworker is perfect for it; she's nice, if a little sarcastic, and has similar humor."

"Is she hot?" Wanda asks.

"Yeah, of course she is. I can't set you up with an uggo. That would never make her jealous."

"And she's into girls?"

"Yeah, she's single right now, though."

Wanda's eye twitches. 

"What?"

Wanda tries to take a calming breath before nearly yelling, "Why didn't you set up Raye with your other coworker then!?"

"How the hell was I supposed to know you'd fallen for her at that point?" Natasha winces.

It's a fair point, a completely valid one to make, but Wanda still holds a grudge against Nat for putting Raye in your path. 

"Also, why does your company have so many sad, single coworkers? I mean, I guess you're also single—"

"Don't get mean, or else I won't help you go shopping for a dress."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Another few days pass, and Wanda finds herself taking deep breaths to give herself courage again. 

Natasha just texted her that the coworker, Darcy, confirmed she was available, and everything was set. 

So now, Wanda just has to work up the nerve to tell you she has a date for Tony and Pepper's party. A girl date. 

"So," Wanda's voice is slightly shaky. The two of you are eating dinner while watching some trashy reality TV show that Wanda can't even focus on right now. Wanda wishes she hadn't said anything because now she doesn't know what else to say. "Are you, uh, excited for Tony and Pepper's party?"

You don't take your eyes off the TV, completely invested in what is happening even though you never watch reality TV on your own. 

"Yeah," you answer. "Raye will be back in town, and I'm bringing her along."

Wanda chokes on the potato that's just starting to slide down her throat. You turn over to look at her with concern as she grabs her drink. 

"You okay?" 

"Wrong pipe," Wanda gasps as she clears her throat. "What were you saying? Raye's coming with you?"

You smile, "Yeah, she's back in town later this week, but my photoshoots conflict with her schedule until the party."

"Awesome," Wanda grits out through her teeth with a forced smile. Suddenly, all that missing courage builds up in Wanda, along with pettiness. "That brings me to the fact I wanted to tell you I have a date to the party too."

"Oh?" You pause the TV, fully accepting that neither of you is watching it now with the conversation at hand. "Who's the lucky lad?"

Wanda actually hesitates. A part of her is nervous to tell you, even though she knows you'd never think of her differently or judge her. She sometimes wonders what's going on in her brain because if Wanda actually got with you, it would inevitably mean you'd know she was into girls. 

Or was she just into you?

Now was so not the time to be trying to figure this out, Wanda swallows. 

"Uh," Wanda starts, feeling a little sweaty. "It's actually with a girl. Natasha is introducing me to someone."

There's silence for a moment, and Wanda's gripping her plate of food so hard, even if she's trying to pretend she's not. In an attempt to take the pressure off herself, she stares pointedly down at her plate. 

Wanda's heart still feels like it will leap out of her chest and run to her bedroom to hide under her pillow.

"You're into girls?" You finally say after a long moment of silence.

"I think so," Wanda mumbles weakly. Well, she was definitely for sure into you. "I think I've always been but never really given it too much thought since I was dating Vis for a long time." AKA, Wanda's always been into you but never realized until recently. 

"So...now that it's really over between you and Vis, you want to try dating girls?" Your tone is careful, and Wanda wishes she could dive straight into your brain to find out what you were thinking. 

"Yeah," Wanda says, still looking at her plate. 

"I'm a little hurt."

The words make Wanda's head snap up. Your face does look a little crestfallen, even if you're smiling. 

"I guess you told Natasha first since she's setting you up on a date?"

"Oh," Wanda is caught off guard. "I mean, kind of? It just...sort of came out when I was with Natasha last. I wanted to tell you first, I just didn't know how. I think I was nervous. But I swear—"

"Relax," you smile at her. "You don't need to explain it."

"No," Wanda insists. "I did really want to tell you, but I just didn't know how to broach the subject, and I was trying to ask Nat for advice on what to do, and then it just spiraled."

You start laughing, which stuns Wanda.

"Man," you laugh into your fist, trying to balance your plate with one hand on your thighs. "Sometimes I forget how spastic you can be."

"Shut up," Wanda would throw a cushion at you, but you'd probably spill your food everywhere. 

"It's fine," you tell her sincerely. "I'm just...shocked is all."

"How come?" Wanda asks carefully, cutting up her already bite-sized potatoes even smaller to seem nonchalant. 

There's a pause, and Wanda peers through her eyelashes at you. You're lost in thought, trying to absorb the information.

"I guess...I just never thought about it either," you shrug. "I always thought you'd marry Vision and if not him, then another guy who is just barely good enough for you."

Wanda can't help but laugh at that because you've been somewhat vocal throughout the years that while you didn't mind Vision, you didn't think he was good enough for her. You got more vocal each time they broke up after getting back together. 

"So," Wanda says after the laughter dies down. "Do you think it'd be weird? Seeing me with another girl?"

You shift your weight, adjusting on the couch. Your face doesn't show much of what you're thinking, and Wanda's wondering if you're doing it to spare her feelings in any way. 

"I don't know," you finally say. "I guess maybe it depends on the girl."

The words give Wanda something to think about as you take it that the conversation has ended. You resume the TV, quietly eating your dinner, just as Wanda does. 

Wanda wonders if you're imagining yourself with her. She could definitely feel the shift in your thoughts as you process the information. 

It was out there. It was really out there that Wanda didn't just date boys. A part of her is actually curious about her date with Darcy, even though she knows that it's not really real. Wanda wants to know if she actually would enjoy dating other women or if she's only in love with you.

Natasha's right, Wanda thinks listlessly. If Darcy was anything like you personality-wise, as Natasha suggested, would Wanda be interested? If Wanda couldn't have you, would she resort to dating women like you?

Would you notice such a pattern? 

Everything is getting more complicated, and Wanda is starting to think she's digging herself into a deeper and deeper hole. In some ways, it would be easier to just confess to you outright. Yet, she can't bring herself to do it. 

There's a deep longing to make sure her odds are at their best when Wanda does. She badly wants you to feel the same, or at least be open to trying with her. 

It's probably wrong, but Wanda needs to know if it was a possibility that you'd get jealous—jealous like Wanda's been. 

Wanda really, really hopes you get jealous in the way it means you want to be the one dating her. 

"So," you say, breaking the silence. "Kind of weird that Natasha has a bunch of single coworkers, right? Wonder how they haven't started dating each other."

Wanda turns to you, a giant smile on her face. "That's what I said!"

There's no way in hell Wanda is ready to let another person have you.

PART FOUR

[sketchnskribbles]

For your one piece fanart please consider: Luffy finds himself thrown back in time and meets tiny Buggy and Shanks and for some reason Shanks just absolutely fucking despises him on sight while Buggy just thinks he’s the coolest guy he ever met “ YOU CAN STRETCH ALL OF YOURSELF?! That’s so cool! WHY DID THAT REDHEAD IDIOT MAKE ME CHOKE ON THIS DUMB FRUIT!!? THIS ONES MUCH BETTER.” “Whatever. He’s super lame.” “EY!!” “I could do so much cool shit with. Power like this… I could throw my knives so hard…”

I’m loving your idea, lol.

IMAGINE:

Luffy deals with the latest issue/adventure/whatever in his typical creative way. The boys are in absolute awe.

Then afterwards, Buggy goes and glues himself to Luffy’s side. Following him around like a lost duckling. He wants to go and do everything Luffy does. Help him out and join in on all his wacky fun.

It was all okay at first… until Shanks realized just how little he’s been seeing his best friend. And how hard it suddenly is to gain Buggy’s attention.

( A continuation of this )

[aconflagrationofmyown]

but then…Gigi

Part 4 - A Big Daddy Elvis Fanfiction

Previous chapter link for context, picking up where we left off

I owe so much thanks to my friends for all their help and input and the joy they bring me, thanks to them and my precious followers this fluffy/wacky little universe even exists. I’ve never had so much fun on a collaboration before in my life, I love y’all so.

Warnings: 18+, sexual content and heavy themes… ok so this is smutty and fluffy, right? But still there are some things that might be offensive regarding narrator’s voice so I want to warn about those and distinguish them from my own opinions. For much of this part we are in Elvis’ head and, due to it being summer of ‘77 -it’s a bit of a rollercoaster in there. Please be warned there are throwaway lines reflecting poor self esteem, depression, misogyny, severe health issues and the use of the word fat to describe oneself negatively.

Enjoy

💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄

Elvis feels a pang of sympathy for his boys’ hysteria when he runs into a crowd of fans as he himself sits panicked in the Stutz, engine off and his shades on, watching Gigi check that the coast is clear on the sidewalk and buzz into her apartment building -in just his jacket and panties. Her sandals are gone somewhere, too, probably back at Graceland. Only that anklet left on like some harem jangle.

Her sooties must be burning on the sunbaked concrete, maybe that’s why she’s skipping everywhere she goes like a damn foal. His blood pressure feels like it’s skyrocketing just watching this show and the fact she looks like she’s in her element terrifies and excites him and -getting to know Gigi is a dangerous hobby.

As shameless as a toddler that one, and every bit as unpersuaded about needing to give a shit about things like flashing her butt cheeks for all of Memphis.

Her tanned butt cheeks.

Which brings up all sorts of questions he’s too scared to ask and will have to address with Tammy. He’s sure she’s to blame for nude sunbathing, he just hopes that wildcat has enough decency to do it privately. Very privately. Hopefully in a bullet proof bunker if Gigi is with her. This girl has been directionless and fatherless for too long; Elvis’ mouth dries out in anticipation of being that guiding, molding, firm hand in her life -the rest of his body too sedated to respond normally although he feels that weird ass dribble his pecker has recently started to do when it’s very much willing but can’t physically swell to poke a gal. He thoroughly regrets not wearing underpants to catch some of this… horny… pre-cum…incontinence…the baby blue of his tracksuit showing a small stain on his leg. Just the size of a penny. Maybe a quarter.

He takes his glasses off and rubs at his sweaty eyes.

Gigi is standing in the opened doorway, waving him in with a huge, expectant smile on her face, and feeling something he hasn’t felt since 1955 sneakin’ into Barbra’s room, he lumbers out his side of the car and doesn’t even bother to make sure no one’s looking, even though she whipped her head around to clock their surroundings like top paid security for his sake. If someone sees and thinks he’s going into a college girl’s dorm to corrupt her then they’d be right, and it'll make far prettier gossip than what’s coming out in Red’s book next month.

He slips past her and she runs her hand along his chest as he goes by, giddy and fond. She waves to someone behind his back,

“Hey Paolo! Good afternoon!” Elvis turns just in time to see an old shriveled man in an undershirt waving wildly at her as the door shuts.

“Who’s that?”

“Our repairman. Sweetest little man.” Gigi gushes and Elvis motions for her to lead the way up the stairs while speculating with nauseating surety on what Gigi might be found wearing -or not wearing- when dear sweet shriveled perverted Paolo makes up a problem with her sink and comes into her apartment. “He’s taught me how to make Limoncello jello! You won’t find anything more refreshing!”

“How very epicurean for a regular, ole handyman.” he can’t help but grumble, usually highly self-aware and unbiased for the potential learnedness of common folks. He knows he’s one. But right now he wants to make a carpet from Paolo’s nose hair.

“What does epicurean mean?” Gigi doens’t without missing a beat as she unlocks her own front door.

Now they’re back on solid, Elvis-worthy ground, he can smile indulgently as he enters her space and explain, “Somebody who likes to in-duuulge in the luxurious and the sensuuaal, it was a whole philosophy.”

“Oooh, that explains why I didn’t understand.” she giggles, “I’ve flunked philosophy twice and I’ve got a whole pile of papers over there that’s supposed to be homework but a hero of mine invited me to go swimming at his place so, there they sit!��� she shows off a rather alarming stack of papers next to the poorly made up bed, half hidden by the swim suits and cut offs strewn about the carpet. “Sorry for the mess, a lotta the girls got ready over here and wrecked it. Half of it is mine though, you should’ve seen the things they suggested I wear for you! Thongs, Elvis! Actual thongs! And here I was unsure if you felt just fatherly towards me or what so I- I didn’t wear a thong.”

Elvis takes a seat on her bed since he figures they’re now past being modest about what they’re gonna do and asks, “What’s a thong?”

“You don’t- it’s this sorta thing.” Gigi is a little shocked that this man of the world doesn't know such a thing and spins around a few times before finding a very small scrap of fabric and bending over, she picks it up. Elvis forgets what she was getting off the floor for a few minutes before she starts spreading the fabric strings apart and pronouncing, “This is a thong!”

Elvis squints his eyes as if trying to see a ship on the edge of the horizon or something, “I don’t get it.” he says at last, “How’s it work? Go around your neck?”

“No, silly!” she giggles even harder in shocked exasperation, “It’s panties.”

“No way in hell.” he sounds awed, “No way, how in tarnation does that work?”

“They’re like…very little, small, tiny panties!” she explains with a hyped tone as if the more enthusiastic she is the quicker he’ll get the mechanism.

“That -those ain’t gonna hold or cover nothin’.” he insists, “Now you’re the one pullin’ my leg.” he notices there’s a magazine with his face on it stashed under the teetering bedside lamp and makes mental note of that before leaning back against her massive stuffed bear.

“They’re not supposed to work, they’re supposed to be sexy?” she tries again before playfully putting them on her head and striking a pose.

“Sexy, hmm?” he rumbles, his eyes twinkling and she knows she’s got his interest at least, whether he’s fibbing ignorance on knowing about thongs or not, she can’t tell. Suddenly it strikes her that Elvis Presley himself is lounging on her bed, leaned against the stuffy she grinds herself on to the thought of him pretty regularly. Suddenly having his jacket zipped at all feels oppressive from the rush of heat that sight floods her with.

“If they were for comfort we’d just go without.” she laughs, “They dig up into your…” she looks about before dropping her voice and taking a couple steps closer to him, “butt crack.” she blushes furiously at having to name it and his fingers itch to do unspeakable things to this little girl.

“Show me.” he says, low and steady and a little removed, just cool enough to be commanding, just warm enough to make her feel (very) admired. He sees her sweet blush turn into droopy lidded arousal before his very eyes and with meek acceptance she hooks her fingers into her swim bottoms without a pause.

They drop to the floor in a nylon puddle between her legs. Just like that. Simple as that, her bare little pussy lips are peaking out from his jacket at him and she smiles gently at his shock as she hooks her legs through the thong’s leg holes and shimmy’s the stupid excuse for lingerie up her stems. “It’s just you, daddy.” she explains in a confidential whisper that melts his heart.

“Yeah, jus’ f’me, baby girl.” he makes a pronouncement of his own, hushed and boyish and her own heart feels too big for her chest at the way his blue eyes somehow soften in wonder at her exposed self. She had expected something rougher, ravenous, impetuous. Not this revenant appreciation that bends his whole frame towards her with open mouthed puffs of longing. He aches, wishing he’d brought his Polaroid to snap this memory forever, add it to his collection. A little something tangible he could thumb at it in the future and remember this night when an terribly hot, painfully young, big tittied woman had wanted him.

“Will ya do a lil spin f’me? Wouldn’t want that wedgie to go unappreciated, now would we? So sweet to try it on for me.” he coos and then hums deep and appreciative as she does a couple slow spins for him, that humm she’s only ever heard in amplified concert footage sending sparks to her very toes.

“You like them?” she asks, toes curling in nervousness for his verdict.

He lounges back and strokes his mouth a few times while cocking his head to the side. She’s breathing so heavy he thinks if he even blew on her she’d come. “They’re practical.” he decides definitively.

“Are they?” she sighs with relief.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles soberly, “quite. For what we’re up here to do, they’re practical.” he adds this slowly and doesn't miss her shudder or the way her eyes light up in relief that they’re getting to the point. He likes that she’s letting him lead, she’s a good girl. “Step closer baby.” he stays lounging so she does all the work and when she gets to the edge of the bed he keeps motioning with his fingers until she’s kneeling on it herself, clambering forward over his lap. “See, when a man makes a meal of a lady’s lil garden, s’real important to have unrestricted access.” he proves his point by slipping his index finger along that abominably small seam of fabric that’s poofy and filled out with bare labia lips.

“Daddy.” she wails at the contact, shaking apart already and that along with her little place has his head thudding some kinda way. She’s gripping onto his neck, near clawing whatever part of him she can grab, close to tears again like a child not getting what she wants. The art of the tease seems lost on her, she’s so hungry.

He’s gotta ask. “Honey, y-yo- honey you ain’t actin’ younger for my sake, are ya?”

“Oh no,” her face turns down again and he’s done it again, insulted her somehow, “you find me immature?”

“No!” he shouts and then tries to moderate himself, “No, no it’s jus’ that -you’re a baby, thas all.”

“Well,” her grin is guileless, “you’ll just have to bear with me, big daddy, I’m all so excited I’ve got Elvis Presley in my room! Elvis Presley! You’re Elvis Presley.”

“I-I-I am.” he admits, perturbed, “What’s wi- why Big Daddy?”

“Cause that’s what you are!” She says it like she’s assuring a pageant queen she won the prized title. “Elvis Presley’s about to eat my pussy.” she murmurs to herself as she kicks her feet and he recalls yet again that he is sat down on her fluffy pink bed for a reason. He tips her over into the sheets.

“So uh, you’ve thought of this before, hmm?” he smirks slyly and reaches out to clasp an ankle in his big, ringed hand, his tanned digits encircling it entirely and he thumbs at the veiny soft spot beneath the ankle.

Gigi moans at his slight pressure.

“That’s a pressure point for the reproductive system, did you know that sir?” she is as eager about information as he is, and clever too.

“So that’s why all the girls lose it.” he hums with a laugh, “No, Gigi, I didn’t know tha’, you like gettin’ rubbed?”

“YES!” she sighs so loudly it’s like a little wind tunnel through the room, “Though it doesn’t happen much.” That makes his heart hurt in sympathy and he adds his other hand to knead her toned calf, those legs of hers spreading jello, just like he calculated they would, “I love to rub folks though! Love givin’ people rubs.”

“Who do ya rub?” Elvis is cross at this new information.

“Oh, anybody who needs it!” she makes it worse.

“Lotta demand for that at Uni?”

“Yeah, so many sore athletes after games.” she is perfectly sober about it, while so enthused he wants to murder every person those sweet hands have descended upon in soothing kindness. “But I think you’re the best I have ever had do it to me, oh Lord you’ve got magic in those hands.”

He’s tempted to tell her how true that statement is but he can’t bear her laughing at him right now so he leans further across the bed and inches towards her knees with his squeezes and tries to elicit more of those moans.

“Oh god I can’t believe Elvis Presley is rubbing my legs.” she gasps again to the ceiling and it’s this youthful narration of her life happenings that makes him think of his Yisa and if he could he’d put both of these little darlings back into their fragile eggs to keep them away from the cruel world.

“So, you done thought of this before, baby girl?” he asks, casting a little smug look over at that ponderous stack of his records and the TV set stationed right at the foot of her bed. He knows the answer already, thanks to Tammy, but it nags him, the question of which Elvis she was touching herself to after her first visit to his house. Her closed eyes and near drooling mouth give him the idea that if he’s good enough at this, puts enough effort into being what he used to be naturally, she can keep those pretty eyes closed and he can morph back into whatever daydream she’s once had. He could give this pretty little girl a little time capsule and before she’s fully awake, slip away again, leave before she recalls it was the gift of an old man, his potency gone to seed but his love for women and their secret parts just as strong.

He bends over, gut digging into his diaphragm and knocking out his wind, presses a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Tell’me ‘bout when you thought of me.” he murmurs into her warm skin. He notices he leaves goosebumbs in the wake of his touch.

“Mmm?” she’s goners with just this firm kneading of her limbs, breathing heavy and sedated from lust.

“Have ya thought of me when you’ve played with yourself?” he’s a little sterner than he should be, just because he knows the answer and wants an honest reply.

“Oh yes.” she gives it, unabashed.

“Is it my movies? Ya watch my movies when ya touch y’self?” he prods, working up to that baby soft stretch of inner thigh that still seems like the most fragile of all God’s creation, like cotton Candy holding ligament and muscle together by some miracle. “Or ya prop up that record right there?” he pulls his head up long enough to point at the foremost record cover in the stack -Live From Madison Square Garden, it reads, and features him silhouetted against black, crouched in a white jumpsuit.

A more mature option; interesting.

Gigi opens her eyes and cranes her head to see what he’s pointing at. “Oh, yeah, sometimes that one,” she nods, “it’s the closest thing I could find.”

“Closest to what, the genuine article?” he snickers in judgment, “It’s goddamn cardboard, at least watch a movie like a normal pervert.”

“The closest to how you are now!” she pouts adamantly, “You’re so…smooth… in all your movies. Nothing like how I know ya when you drive past on the street.”

Well, that’s something else, even if Elvis doesn't quite get what that something is. It’s absurd, the fact she existed all along on some sidewalk he sped past. “How’s that now, honey?” he asks.

“I couldn’t find anything closer to what you are now!” she explains, “Nothing since Aloha and -well I like that one, don’t get me wrong but I,” she bites her lip and a skittish flinch settles into her eyes.

“What about that one, darlin?” he begs softly.

“Well I like how hairy and strong ya look but,” she doesn’t look down or away when she gets to her point, instead she bends forward to be nearer to him, to hold his hands as they lay on her legs, to peer into his eyes gently, “you seem too sad in it for me to -to use it like that.”

He’s touched, so much so he swallows hard and dips his head to kiss her knobby little kneecap. “T-that were a rough time in my life.” he admits and his voice has gone wrecked. It is odd beyond words how he feels like she’s a child to be protected but just like a child at a sleepover he can duck under the covers and admit his worst fears to her.

It all goes back to being proportionally heartbreaking as Gigi leans forward and makes him lean back, clambering methodically back into his lack as if she owns the damn space, holding his furry cheeks tenderly as she licks those luscious lips and slots them against his. This he is familiar with, nothing odd at all about this age old ritual of him being seductively depressed and a girl soothing it away with her tongue and hands in his hair.

He allows himself the liberty of stroking her bare back beneath his jacket, figuring if he’s gonna lick beaver he might as well do a little seducing beforehand, cherish her like she deserves, give them both the works. As much as he can give with this dull headache and the meds making him feel so leaden he could fall asleep in seconds. He takes a breath and tries to clear his head, focusing on kissing her well, kissing her better than any of those stupid young jocks ever managed.

Back at making a case to her that he could make her happy. He doesn’t know why he keeps trying that argument when a couple decades worth of broken hearts and homes behind him suggest otherwise.

“Wanna see what I used to pretend it was you?” she tempts against his lips as they surface for air, sounding so demure yet utterly unrepentant even as she confides, “After you petted me and sent me home I needed you so bad, couldn’t find anything that felt like you now, so I shut the tv right off. Grabbed my stuffy ‘cause he was fuzzy and had a belly like you and then I grabbed…here, wait here, don’t you move now!“

Her little butt is already bouncing out the room into the en-suite before she finishes the sentence and he is left to sit on the bed and await her return, processing the fact she had wanted hair and a corpulent figure.

Bizzare taste, definitely dealing with father issues, painfully sweet.

He groans in recognition that she’s entirely to his own taste.

She comes back holding the most bulbous bottle of shampoo he’s ever seen in his life. The size of his damn fist easily, bright yellow and shaped at the top like like a lemon an- hell it’s even named “Lemon-Something-Or-Other”.

“I used this!” she proclaims with a giggle that jiggles her whole body.

Elvis just stares, torn between impressed and horrified. “You’re tellin’ me that…thang…fit up your lil cooch?”

“Well, no,” she admits, mood immediately deflating in disappointment with herself, “but I’m working on it! Or maybe I don’t have to, now that I’ve got the real thing, as you call it!”

Gigi bites her lip and winks in an attempt to be seductive and it’s the most ludicrously jarring thing Elvis can imagine, he roars with laughter at her art of being a cock tease without trying and a total clown when she does try.

Oh fuck he’s in love. Yeah, already established that awhile back but, it’s just, it’s hitting him again.

“I think you’ll find the real thing a bit disappointin’ by comparison.” he wheezes, too amused to be insecure.

“Oh really?” she perks up in palpable relief, “Oh thank jesus! That thing’s huge and I was gonna try for you but- but -but it’s huge! And I was just gauging from what I saw floppin’ around in your tracksuit that night and I was trying to not be obvious, so I couldn’t exactly clock it real good but it looked awfully wide, like a paper towel roll when it’s halfway gone and this was the only thing I could find like it, I wasn’t going to use anything of Tammy’s and besides they weren’t fat either so I just…” She trails off with a shrug, still standing there before him holding the fuckin’ Lemon Drop Shampoo.

She’d tried not to be obvious, she says, but he’d caught her staring well below his belt half a dozen times in two days. “So,” Elvis is still wiping the tears of amusement from his eyes, “so ya used a shampoo bottle and a teddy bear.”

“Yeah.”

“And did it work?” his eyes darken at the prospect of hearing her tell him this naughty story.

“Sorta.”

“How can it ‘sorta’ work?”

“I came,” Gigi sighs, “but I felt so empty..after. Cried myself to sleep” her embarrassed giggle does not deceive him from the certainty that she’s telling the truth.

“Oh baby, what’re we gonna do with you?” he asks her and God Almighty all at once.

“Hold me, please?” she whispers.

“Course, baby. Nothin’ I’d rather do, get over here,” He holds out his arms and she cruises in at a deceptively fast speed, colliding back into his chest and tucking her face into the crease of his neck, she’s pressing kisses there into that sweaty fold and he rubs her back, traces the dip of her waist, the slow curve outwards of her hips, thumbs at the flimsy material of her panties. Feeling her soft skin and treasuring it. Wondering what she’s thinking and not knowing she’s thanking God she gets to be held by him.

“You make feel so safe.” her breath ghosts over his face and he’s not sure how it’s so fresh and lovely after scarfing down burgers and cherry coke but he can’t get enough and he grabs her face as gently as he can manage with this much wonder filling him in a rush.

He’s pretty sure she ain’t ever had a chance to kiss with tongue, she’s eager to slip hers in but she’s got that petrified immobility of a gal who’s never gotten the chance to give and take, just give while some stupid rash boy slobbers and knocks her teeth.

Elvis is quite good with his tongue.

He flicks at her tongue, he waits, taps her butt until she gets his prompt. She flicks. He trails it alongside her own, he waits. He taps. She mimics. They get a good commerce going and soon she’s squirming and writhing in his lap while he stays put, his patience and experience a buoy for her as she flounders with so much desire she doesn’t know how to cope beyond undulating against him and tugging at his hair, their mouths wide and uncaring, devouring.

It’s fun with a girl leveraging down on him from his lap, one might think it would put him at a disadvantage but it doesn’t, he turns her silly head with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, and she’s just a dolly up there for him to work against his mouth. Rather like how he’s gonna work her pussy if they make it that far. For now, there’s this age old dance and her pretty breaths.

He sucks her tongue and she lets out a cry that’s distorted by the absence of any control over her own tongue and suddenly he can feel her move more frantically, fumbling between them until he hears the zzzz of the zipper as she undoes her jacket front and frees her full breasts like the thin cloth was suffocating her. It becomes clearer what she needs when she continues to fumble between them, unsatisfied, until he feels his own taught closure opening and the fan air hits him and goosebumps spread and shame flares and then it’s unity. Their chests meeting, pressing, soft and warm and she shudders against him like she just touched a force field.

She mewls into his mouth again and traces his puffy lips with the tip of her tongue while he breathes. “Feels so right.” he realizes in a mumble.

“Mhmm.” she says as she presses more kisses to his panting mouth. Gigi reaches between them once more and he watches cross eyed from the closeness as she hefts one boob up and presses it between them more firmly, before repeating the procedure with the other until, until they are smashed to her satisfaction. Then she starts grinding, those fat titties of hers, against him with the rest of her- against his hairy, saggy man boobs, she’s dragging her nipples across him and worrying them red with his rough texture, her toes curling from the friction. Her nipples are pebbled and she’s crying out, can’t stop moaning or calling for God because he feels so good against her. Cradling her boob her fingers press selfishly against one of his own nipples and lil Elvis wants to fight against his induced state, desperate to twitch for this pretty girl’s attention. “Oh god, you’re so hairy, like a nest! So perfect and manly and, I’m gonna, let me, let me please, please oh god, feels so good!” she’s working herself up to a squealing frenzy going over one particular patch of ratted curls… from…rubbing her pretty nipples on his chest hair.

Elvis just sits there and computes, watches, like a green boy, Gigi’s cradled boobs, her gaping mouth, her long throat and her cramping widdle sooties. God, what he’d give to suck those curling little piggies.

He’s hot as a furnace, this man, and those coarse, wiry curls are zapping her already throbbing nipples until Gigi can’t seem to breathe, so much sensation crowding her senses but not where she needs. She grinds down on him, where they’ll join so perfectly, and she feels that perfectly fat cock of his wedged on top of his thick thighs that he can’t manspread for once with her on top of him. She reaches down and positions him through the silky track bottom until she can slide along, feeling the width of him parting her pussy lips even with the thong’s fabric obstructing. His pants are sticky to touch, even though he feels too heavy and floppy to be fully hard.

Elvis should kiss her again. Warn her he ain’t good for nothin’ before she gets her hopes up and he gets to humiliate himself like some useless old fuck.

“Daddy, daddy fill me up, daddy.” she beats him to it in the prettiest little beg he’s ever heard.

“Oh Gigi.” he groans compassionately before grabbing her hand and bringing it up away from his messy lil pecker, “I’s gone lick you, don’t you recall?”

“Yes but I’m past that, I need you inside me!” she gasps, grin growing by the second.

“Ah, yeah, well baby it’s a big deal, takin’ innocence and uh-“ he scratches the back of his head and she escapes his hold and her hand is back to it, squeezing his cock and it really does feel nice, in a head scratch sorta way. “Look, Gigi, honey, I’m sorry but lil Elvis is shy tonight.” he holds his breath as she slowly processes this.

She doesn’t retract her hand as she registers what he’s saying. “Aww, but I can kiss him!”

“M-m-maybe some other time?” he pleads like he’s asking a child to please let him get away with just five bedtime stories. Six is overkill and Daddy has work tomorrow.

She pouts briefly before bringing her sticky hand up to her mouth and licking her fingers like a barbarian. That sight alone almost fixes his damn ED. Gigi likes the light taste of him, humming in approval at the first taste like a baby trying candy for the first time.

“T-t-that means he likes ya, though.” he assures her like an idiot and she smiles around her digits.

She’s very sober and a little mournful, the way she keeps looking at him, not at all petulant or even the slightest bit contemptuous, just concerned and it primes some pump inside him to explain more than he ever should but he can’t seem to stop the words as they come out, “Had a migraine this mornin’ before ya came over and I wanted to be in ship-shape for some fun -fun with you- so I had to take some lil helpers for the head and they, well, they, they mess with…that.” he motions to his lap.

“Awww,” she laments, heartbroken as if he had to endure having his head sawn clean off, “you had a migraine? And you still had us over? Oh poor, sweet daddy!” she shifting in his lap to rub at the back of his head and into his hair and he tries to mumble assurances that it’s better now but they get lost in the glorious blubber of her frankly unnecessarily huge breasts that happen to be smashed in his face as she attends to his head. “I’ll put some oils on it- I’ve got a bathtub, we could put you in tha-”

“-Baby girl,” He laughs, excavating his chin from her cleavage, “it’s better now, I was just explainin’ the faulty mechanics. I ain’t always so stove up, didn’t want you thinking-“

“Oh I wouldn’t care!” she gushes intensely and he’s very worried that streak of the insane fan in her is larger than he thought but it’s too late, she’s caught him in her big tittied, huge nippled, anklet wearing trap, “I’d lick you and suck you and wiggle you inside me soft no matter what, all my days! I don’t care!”

“T-that’s real touching.” he murmurs in a daze. She’s perfect, every man’s wet dream - and he’s the damn lucky bastard that gets to have her. And he can’t even make full use of her.

“I’m gonna give you a back massage with some marjoram oil-“

“No, no you’re not.” he grabs at her to keep her forcefully on his lap, “I don’t need no hippy potions, I ain’t no witch’s experiment or an ole man. I’m here to eat beaver. Or…baby seal, with that bald thing.”

“You sure? I-“

“Gigi, be good.” he puts his finger to her lips and she freezes like a chastised bambi. “Good baby girl. Now you lay back f’me and spread those pretty legs. A man needs room to work his magic.”

“Ok.” she agrees in an excited whisper and tips out of his lap sideways onto the sheets, giving him a full view of her -nearly- naked self for the first time, completely serene and without artifice. He knew she'd be even worse without clothes, worse for his obsession and his indulgence and everything else but this -this is an Angel.

God, he really adores women. Best idea ever to make ‘em, and to make them with fat boobies and lil holes to rub peckers into and sweet faces to paint slimey and cute widdle toes to rub your balls against.

“Ok, let’s see what we’re workin’ with here.” he smirks and gets on his belly with a grunt, heaving himself up the bedsheets and in between her long legs, taking his fingers and moving aside that stupid little string they call underwear these days. “Oh lord, look at that.” he appreciates the pretty pink beauty of her and the smooth pale skin of her kitty, so delicate and girly and -he’s a little smitten. More than he expected. Which was an oversight with the way she keeps blowing his hopes out of the water.

“You’re the prettiest thing I ever did lay eyes on, sweetheart.” he swears with his whole heart, shuffling in closer and kissing her thigh.

Gigi cranes her neck and unsatisfied with the narrowed visuals says, “Wait, lemme prop up.” and stuffs a few pillows behind her back and sits up, legs spread wide and her smile pleased like she’s about to watch her favorite film, “Ok, now I can watch you. Go ahead, daddy.”

“Umm, alright.” he clears his head once more at the thought of her wanting to watch and dives in. Somehow he gets the feeling if he doesn’t go for it she’ll come in seconds anyway she’s so high strung and then he’ll have barely gotten his taste.

Furry, silky, warm -that’s how his hair and head feel beneath her hands, his fuzzy sideburns and his hair so little styled after the pool fluffs and tufts adorably and his cheeks puff out with his vigorous exertions and his sideburns chafe her thighs and his hands are everywhere at once -Gigi watches all these things and marvels in her heart at it. He’s very voracious about it while still having a great deal of -nuance- to it. Like a man who is in a watermelon eating competition, he may look rabid but if he’s won a few then he must have a calculated method down amid the mess.

The predominant feeling is comfortable intimacy. They are both surprised by it, she by the naturalness of watching the most famous face on planet earth smeared from her pleasure and rapturously content with her taste, he with the pleasant rightness of her legs squeezing his shoulders snuggly and her hands petting his hair away from his sweaty forehead. His scalp sweats the more he works and she rubs his neck as if mindful of the lurking migraine, as if she can only thank him for his touches by returning them.

She praises his tongue in breathy awe, “so long and pink and wet and oh-“

Nose buried in pink and wet and sweet womanliness Elvis hums his agreement. Peeking up through his lashes he can see the one hand not cradling his head is industriously tugging on those dark, large nipples of hers. He grinds himself against the bed on pure instinct. Another day, another night, he’s gotta get those large nipples of hers in his mouth.

She calls him beautiful. Again and again. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful, worse in person, more than I ever imagined, in my wildest-“

Again and again. Beautiful, she says. More than dreams. More, he’s more and more till Gigi’s praise dissolve into shrieks and pants, screams that whimper out into the low apartment ceiling as the afternoon sun dims, as he keeps going until they build again. And again, her hips are nothing if not insistent on grinding up against his mouth. The room smells of sweat and pleasure and sun-in. She’s vocal in her gratitude, persistent in returning his touch, petting him to say thank you when she finds she can’t form coherent sentences.

Eventually there is no more.

Just peace, and him, heaving back his breath against her thighs in a pussy-drunk stupor, and her shaking from seizing one too many times. His scalp is burning beneath her hands, his neck too. Inflamed and angry, she thinks of how much he loves to give. Wished she’d looked at the clock, something to tell the girls about. Just how many minutes, hours, days? he’d spent pleasing her.

“Good?” he asks in a hopeful little slur and the pink of his cheeks and the shiny glimmer on his nose is so childlike and content in his pouty snooze that her heart melts and she curls over him as best she can and squeezes.

“It was everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes into his burning ear, “I’m hooked.”

His laugh rumbles the whole bed, “Me too, baby girl.”

Their skin is sticky and tacky, they adhere to each other in their embrace. He is soothed by such a clasp as theirs while the longer he lays on his stomach the more keenly aware he is of how it hurts. Now’s the time to roll over and mention something about needing to get back. Now would be it, but for some reason the words don’t come and he lays on his knotted gut, suppressing winces and biting his lip against the pinches, trying to recall the sweetness of her, what made this worth it. Her breath fans his neck, wafting across his cheek -cuddle bug, he thinks, fond. Home, he should go home, but never has it felt so utterly foreign. Like a figment of what he wants and needs, like Christmas morning without your mama. A house is just a shell without heart. He wonders if his boys have got the front den cleaned yet of barbecue and would-be-in-laws.

“Do you need to get off your…head?” Gigi whispers softly and it startles him. She’s got a point, all his blood is rushing to his brain the way he’s laying.

“Probably should.” he grunts and slowly, like a pair of cats, they uncurl from around each other to be face to face for the first time since they shared such pleasure. They’re both a little pink and their smiles are too wide. He wonders at the happiness she’s releasing, marveling that he put it there. He’s got to be careful or it won’t be too long before this little girl realizes she’s got him wrapped around her finger already.

She rubs her nose against his. Another way to kiss.

She asks him if he needs a drink.

“I’ll help you with your philosophy homework.” He promises instead, it’s a reason to see her again. And soon. A reason to see her again and a hint it can’t be tonight.

Tonight he needs his pills, his bed, an enema and god knows what else just to make it till morning. He could cry from how badly he wants to be spontaneous, to go to a girl’s place, make love, cuddle like this and when he says he has to go and her eyes well up with tears at the prospect of his absence -he’d like to be able to say he can stay.

“Hush it’s alright, I’ll stay. I’ve got you, no one’s gonna ever leave you cold again.” something like that. Instead he says he can help with her test. Instead he tries to fool himself into being something less than heartbroken at how even the simplest thing in his life has to be a big production.

“Will you really?” Gigi’s face lights up at his piss poor offer.

“Promise.” he repeats.

“And will you promise me you’ll let me repay you?” She presses slyly, her hand petting down his chest and over the swell of his gut. Some childlike weariness in him wants her to rub it better. He remembers feeling the same way as a child regarding his mother’s touch and despite the fact that Gigi’s a baby girl - his baby girl - he trusts she’d make one Gladys Love Presley proud, doing her best to take care of him.

“Mmmaybe.” he looks down at her with playful suspicion.

“Promise me!” she demands, kicking her feet and flipping over to look down at him, swinging a leg to straddle him again.

He can’t help the wince his face flashes at the pressure of her hands from that high vantage. She flings them off him like she’s been burned, likes she’s the one who got hurt. “Oh shoot, sorry, sorry.” she gasps, her eyes wide and blue and tearful, “It’s bad, huh?”

As if not being able to get it up weren’t chastisement enough for his ego, now there’s this. “Uh huh.” he grits and the stab passes for the moment.

“Do you have something for it?” she hopes, “Do you need to go home?.”

There’s the out he needs. Didn’t even have to say it himself. Melancholy descends like fog over his soul but he reminds himself it is what is, he’s better off than most. So what if he can’t have sleepovers on whim or shit like a normal human or skip having his blood pressure checked every goddamn morning -he has a lot, and he got to eat Gigi’s silky smooth bare pussy. Today was a good day. Not even a wash, it was a good day, she made it a good day.

“Yeah, I need to get home.” he sounds every bit as despondent as he feels about it and he hopes she’ll take that as the compliment intended.

“Ok!” she chirps without missing a beat, jumping up in nothing but his open jacket, skipping out the bedroom door, left turn into what seems to be the kitchen.

Well, she handled that better than expected. Elvis almost hopes she’s still orgasm-happy and it doesn’t reflect her readiness to have him out of her place. He idly flicks at the stack of papers to get some impression of where the test is stumping her. He fidgets with his zipper and closes his jacket back up, coloring at the memory of letting her expose him like that.

She comes bouncing back within the minute holding a glass of water and presenting it with authority, “Now you just drink this daddy, it’s got fennel tincture in it and will help your stomach. You just drink that while I pack my bag. I’ll be fast, don’t worry,” she goes on as he tries to compute what she means and sniffs her concoction warily, “I pack light anyways and we can always come back for the rest of my stuff later.”

Come back. For her stuff. Don’t worry -she packs light.

The fennel wafts around him, the smell of licorice and fairgrounds and his mama’s hand in his and daddy winning him that stuffed tiger. Fennel, for his stomach. He shakes his head. His tongue feels fuzzy.

Come back. For her stuff. She packs light.

She is coming with him. That’s what she must mean, he realizes as he drinks her awful drink and watches with teary eyes her bare ass bend over to grab jeans from a dresser and throw them in a duffel bag. Like Graceland is summer camp.

Come back for the rest later, she’d said. She is coming back with him, just knowing she’s welcome. He didn’t even have to beg, to ask, to suggest, to hint. Send a limo, nothin, just eat pussy and now she’s gonna live with him. Let her press her skin against his own just once and suddenly, he’s never gonna be lonely again.

She bounces into the bathroom and comes out with the damn lemon shampoo, to match the lemon conditioner abandoned on the floor.

Cheap drug store shit.

“Hell no, you’re not bringing that stuff into my house.” he lays down the law, his one condition and the first time he’s vocalized any acknowledgment of her entitlement to his hospitality, “You’ll use mine till we get you sorted.”

“I like the way you smell.” she admits, dropping the bottles there in the middle of the floor. That's that sorted.

It’s still not sunk in fully as Elvis drives his quite recognizable beast of a car through Memphis’ now dark streets, while Gigi sits beside him with her white stack of papers catching the street lights glare as they pass. His giddy joy at her willingness and her entitlement to stay with him is overshadowed by the cold lump in his throat, panicking about how to keep a shred of dignity intact or retain an iota of her attraction for him when she becomes aware of his routines.

“You’re gonna teach me how to help, right?” she asks very soberly from her side, as sober as he’s ever seen her.

“Whatcha mean, baby doll?” he tries to keep his tone light.

“You’ll teach me and show me how to care for you, right?” she presses again, “I wanna take care of you, like you take care of me.”

Simple as that -for her. He grunts out something she mistakes for a yes.

Elvis puffs harder on his lit cigar and feels like he’s gonna choke, ends up rolling his window down, gulping in fresh air as Gigi does it on her side too, hanging her head out the window and whooping into the night. He wonders what might distract her while he slips away this evening, maybe a movie or maybe the hot tub or maybe the horses. Maybe Tammy is still there like a bad penny and will keep her distracted. Tonight Elvis would welcome that. Only tonight, and his hand tightens on the steering wheel in frustration over his own worn out body and how it just can’t walk this stuff off anymore.

She’s still hanging out the window, she looks so young like that. His vision blurs.

Somehow Gigi’s feet have ended up in his lap by the time Sam’s letting them into the front gate. She wiggles her toes under his belly, rubbing at the soft skin. Grinning at him suggestively, like a fat man’s belly is the most sexy thing imaginable. He wants to snort.

“Think they saved us any barbecue?” she grins.

“No, it’s all in Gingersnaps’s hair and I ain’t touchin’ that ever again.” he allows himself to be a bit of bastard, it can’t be wrong when it makes Gigi giggle in maniacal glee in the passenger seat, secure now in having her Daddy’s attention. “I’m in the mood for peanut butter anyway.” he retorts.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

@prompted-wordsmith

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

@presleyenterprise

@kendralavon7

@coolgirl462

@colahola

@lillypink

@stephthestallion

@vintageshanny

@landmermaid12

@ashtag2887

@notstefaniepresley

@butlersluvbot

@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

@lookingforrainbows

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@memphisflash1935-1977

@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@austinbutlersbaby

@freudianslumber

@kxnnxy

@kingdomforapony

@be-my-ally

@crazymadpassionatelove

@that-hotdog

@missmaywemeetagain

@fallinlovewithurlove

@richardslady121

@lilycherries123

@18lkpeters

@xenaspace3-blog

@lil-mamas-obsessions

@father-of-2cats

@helen06dreamer

@returntopresley

[lavendersartistry]

Jellyfish Grotto

Space Riders AU - @onyxonline Eve Ewe - @lavendersartistry

This is a angst/wholesome fic for onyxonline's Space Riders AU! This is mainly centered on the headcanoned friendship between DogDay and my OC Eve Ewe! Please check Onyx out, their work is super cool!

IN MY LIL GOOBER BRAIN AND MY PARTICIPATION, THEY ARE FRIENDS YOUR HONOR- Now onto the fic✨✨

The gardens of the palace seemed so silent since the last visit of schooling children touring the home of the soon-to-be queen. It was nice to have the planet still lively after the loss of their late royals from the war, despite the princesses going different paths to keep their home afloat.

Eve could only glance back at the throne room from the gardens, resting under the star wisteria as she quietly read. She couldn't get the memories from her head about the war. It felt like only yesterday that it was announced by the council that her coronation would be near.

If only she could have saved-

"Princess? Are you alright?"

Eve suddenly flinched at the sound of someone calling for her and quickly turned her head. She sighed, noticing it was only her friend DogDay.

"I'm alright. And please, we went over this. You can call me Eve or Evie, friends don't have to be formal."

The captain scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and sat next to the princess. To him, it felt like not too long ago when they first met each other. And befriending a princess, a almost queen, felt too much of a dream to the sunshine critter.

"I know, but I can't really help it. You're becoming big top while I'm just a captain. Besides, I don't think the council or your guard would like it if I just called you that."

Eve stifled a laugh and closed her book, leaning her back to the trunk of the tree.

Ever since she was 5, the council was harsh on her. From lady etiquette to lessons on all preparation for becoming queen of her planet, Eve never truly got to enjoy the life of a normal person. To meet friends, to find love.

Just being happy.

"Those old birds would have the stingrays after you if that happened. But don't worry about Bolt, he's just protective."

DogDay rolled his eyes yet smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. He looked up to the stars, suddenly frowning at the forcefield that clouded the clear sight of the twinkling lights.

He knew that it was necessary, after the war. And with the Prototype out creating chaos, it was definitely needed. But he couldn't shake away the feeling from when Bolt informed him about Eve's dream that one night.

It was a vision, a written destiny almost. And the sunny hound couldn't let that fate take away his friend.

"So what were you reading? Seemed a bit uneventful."

Eve looked back at her book and grazed her hand at the leather covering.

The book was about the biology of the planet's most docile creature: Astral Jellyfish. It was a favorite of Eve's and it was a pleasant memory to see a very large one for the first time.

"The astral jellyfish. You know, my favorite creature in all my planet?"

"You mean the one creature that stung me?"

Eve burst out laughing at his comment while DogDay lightly glared at her.

"It's not funny!"

"It's actually a little funny!"

DogDay huffed and crossed his arms in protest to her laughing but he couldn't help but let a little smile appear on his face to see her laugh and be happy for once.

Eve quickly calmed herself and smiled back.

"You should give them another try. Maybe this time, you won't startle it and it'll let you pet it."

The captain groaned again and stood up.

"How long will you remind me of that?"

"Till you're a veteran."

"Great..."

The hound was being sarcastic. As long as something made the princess smile despite the rough times, that was enough for him.

The two kept conversing in the silence in the gardens: talking about the crew's wacky moments during missions, meeting the mysterious "Angel", Eve's stressful schedules, and other things.

Unbeknownst to them, the astral jellyfish had already welcomed themselves in mindlessly. A few rested near Eve while others floated around DogDay and some pestered him.

Eve could only hold back a laugh as the captain tried shooing away the creatures.

"Still not a fan of them?"

"The day I pet them is when I let CatNap drive the ship for a mission."

[starrybl1ss]

Enchanting secrets ✧˖°.

★senior/quidditch captain/slytherin!ellie williams x senior/gryffindor!reader ★warnings: making out lol, swearing, (smut in part 2 that is complete link below) ★inspo: so basically yk the drarry ships?? this is kinda basically it but with ellie & reader and the hogwarts!ellie headcannons ★please read! harry potter fans please don't come at me because the timeline of this fic is probably not accurate from the books and movies. and yes, i did watch the movie but im not really in the fandom that much so i did as much as researching as i could.

Hogwarts has been a big journey for you and all the wacky magical things happening. as now you are in senior year, the last year in hogwarts, after that you'll have do the N.E.W.T.s test that is known to be increadibly difficult.

Your really nervous, luckly your friend, Dina is a fellow gryffindor as well. And she's a smart student.

You really want to do well in the test. magic isn't as easy as flickering a wand in the air and boom! your a frog. Its much more complex than that. theory or practice, its hard.

Your now in the library with Dina, studying your ass off. its quite stressful with all the subjects.

Tomorrow is the quidditch match. your house versus slytherin. you can't wait to watch it. its always so much fun watching quidditch. you never really liked playing quidditch since it all looks so exhausting and dangerous, not like hogwarts is not itself. but you rather focus on your studies.

"Dina, im going back. real tired. you coming?" you ask the black haired girl. "Yeah all go back after its actually time for students to get back and sleep" she replied. "Cya" you left the library grabbing your books.

You walk all along the school corridors and went on the anoyying stairs that always move to a different place. its still quite busy. but only with all the seniors. running up and down.

You suddenly bump into someone. an auburn haired girl making you drop your book. "shit, sorry let me get them for you" she bent down to your knees grabbing the books you dropped.

The girl hands out the books back to you. "thanks... ellie?" you thank her while a bit skeptical if thats her name. "no problem" she replied and continues walking down the stairs.

You were right, Ellie williams. captain of the slytherin quidditch team. You see her a lot. she's a big deal. the some what 'anoyying' quidditch captain that always makes their team win in quidditch the past years shes been in hogwarts.

You continue walking up the stairs towards the 'fat lady' painting. You stood infront of the painting. "fibbertigibbet" you said as the painting opened and you step in.

Your basically the first senior to enter since everybody was busy studying while you cant take it anymore. you were too sleepy. so you changed in to your pyjamas and went to bed

꒰୨🔮୧꒱

Your sleep was interrupted by Dina. "wake upppp, it's already time for brekfast!" she shook your unconcious body. you quicky open your eyes and saw that it is perfectly 7.30 in the morning.

Your sleep felt so quick. "wait up, im gonna get dress" you got up and dressed up as Dina waited in the common room.

"Let's go Deen" you went outside the gryffindor house and quickly went down the stairs to the great hall where brekfast is served until around 8.

You went ahead and sat down and grabbed the food you wanted. chicken, again. your kind of obsessed with eating chicken by now.

You glaired at the slytherin table where you saw, ellie williams again. for some reason, since you two bumped to eachother on the stairs, you couldnt seem to get her of your mind.

Dina waved her hand infront of your face trying to stop you from zoning out and daydreaming too much. "who's the lucky guy your gonna take to dance after the exam?" Dina looks at you hoping you already have a guy to take out to the last senior prom.

"Oh uh, dunno" you slightly shook your head. "who we're you looking at anyways?" she asks curiously. "no one, just uhh.. someone that helped me grab my books when we bumped into eachother last night"

"see? i dont think thats a 'no one' after all! who is it?" she shook your shoulder excitedly. "a girl... you know? slytherin's quidditch captain?" you said nervously.

"are you kidding? ellie? you mean ellie williams? she's bad news!-" Dina said out loudly as you stopped her to make her a little more quite since there was a lot of people looking at you two.

"My god, she's so anoyying! she's our rival y/n!" she looks at you. "i knowww, but-" you stopped talking trying to think what to say next.

"but what? okay, i could quickly find you a good looking, smart, green flag gryffindor guy in a minute! it'll be easy, almost every gryffindor wants you. not to meantion, a lot of other boys from other houses would want you"

"i'll just worry about it later, whats the point of having a 'guy' that wants you but you don't want them anyways?"

꒰୨🔮୧꒱

You couln't focus the whole time in potions. you kept having your eyes on ellie making it difficult. you exited the class and went towards the bathroom to wash your face.

You went inside hearing someone crying and ofcourse it is moaning myrtle. the ghost who haunts the girls bathroom.

You saw another girl infront of the sink. you got closer and it was ellie. god, you meet her everywhere. you went to the sink next to her as you turned on the faucet.

Ellie looks at you "hey, never really catched your name last night" slightly tilting her head. "I- im- uh, y/n" you introduced yourself.

"nice meeting you"

"y-you too!" you said nervously.

"whats your next class y/n?" god, she said your name making you blush a little. suprised that she brought up a conversation. "defence againts the dark arts" you replied.

She looks at you while not sayying a thing. just admiring your face making your heart skip a beat. you couldn't handle the tension anymore.

"i should get to clas-" you stepped a bit further from her but she grabbed your left arm. "the teacher wouldn't mind you being late right?" she said teasingly.

"y-yeah he wouldn't min-" suddenly ellie pulls you in a kiss. fuck, you didn't know this would happen so quickly. you kissed her back. her hands on your waist.

"c-can we a go somewhere a little more private? Just incase...-" ellie grabs you and puts you two in one of the stalls locking the door from behind.

She pins you to the door and started giving you hickeys on your neck with you letting out choked up moans as she lifts up your sweater.

You hear someone sniffing, moaning myrtle. "Looks like things are getting a little too spicy in here. you stupid kids forgot i haunt this place? Jeez, get out!"

Shit, you totally forgot about her being her- fuck! Your missing out on professor lupin's class!

"El- ellie im missing class i should go-" you push her back a little. "See you after the match?" You nod as you went outside the stall

You ran around the corridor. 14 minutes late into proffesor lupin's class. luckly it was him teaching so he didn't make a fuss about you being late and you just said you were in the bathroom constapated as hell and he led that slide without you telling him you hooked up with the slytherin quidditch captain.

"were you that constipated? your lucky proffesor lupin isn't absent or you'd be in hell!" Dina did made a fuss about it.

You rolled your eyes and continued writing in your notebook.

꒰୨🔮୧꒱

This evening the weather is perfect. Not too hot, a bit cloudy but no sign of rain. The quidditch match had begun 15 minutes ago.

Slytherin are currently in the lead. Brooms going back and forth in lightning speed.

You could care less about the match, you were drunk in love admiring ellie on her broomstick. She was your house biggest rival!

Your mouth accidently slipped "Go ell-!" Dina looks at you confused. "Shes our rival! Snap out of it!" You stayed silent gazing at ellie like your some dumb 12 year old thats so drunkly inlove.

꒰୨🔮୧꒱

The match has ended with slytherin, again. everybody went back inside the school corridor as the slytherin kids all cheered for ellie and her team.

you were completely starstruck by her. shes so... mesmorizing its driving you insane.

suddenly you felt someones arm touching yours in the crowd. you looked at your left to see... ew! its that icky popular gryffindor guy that cant seem to get your hands off you.

"hey, i was wondering if you'd want to come to the dance with m-" you cut off his words. "sorry, fully booked" you tilt your head with a smug face.

You were lying, theres been a lot of guys asking you but you just rejected all of them.

You walked away from him without looking back. as the corridor got a little less hectic, ellie approaches you. "hey, about that..." she stopped. "would you go to the yule ball with me after the exam? any chance? you already got someone... dont you?"

You giggled "i don't, ellie" you smile. she smiled back at you and pulled you in for a kiss infront of people including dina.

꒰୨🔮୧꒱

★read please!

HIIII soooo its donee, sorry if i misspelt stuff. ik the pole i did alotta people voted for smut but i wanted this one to be clean???? so if you want to read the next part (that has smut) you can read it here!

lmk if you wanna see the yule ball part after the n.e.w.t.s!

[epithet-beloved]

Could we get some parental Percy and Ramsey? If not that’s fine

PARENTAL PERCY + RAMSEY HEADCANONS

synopsis… Percy and Ramsey as your parents

ft. Percival “Percy” King, Ramsey Murdoch, Howie Honeyglow (mentioned), Meryl Lockhart (mentioned), Sergeant Eros (mentioned)

tags… parental imagine, Percy and Ramsey’s relationship is unspecified, goofy family shenanigans, some anime campaign references but no spoilers, relationship study

word count… 702

a/n… I FINALLY GOT MY WRITING SPOONS BACK BAYBEYYYYYY. Apologies for the long hiatus, but I hope you all enjoy these imagines! ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Even if Ramsey is your actual father, he still gets treated at least a little bit like a weird uncle that the rest of the family doesn’t want you associating with.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite some general banter, Percy trusts Ramsey with your care quite a lot after he helped her in Redwood Run, and is always fair and never presumptuous. She has quite a few ground rules, some of them a bit odd, but never unfair.

“Uhhh….Percy?” Ramsey’s confusion was met by the policewoman’s polite smile.

“Yes? Is there something you’d like to ask me about the rules?”

A nod. “Just one thing.” Despite the fact that she couldn’t see what he was pointing to, the Australian pointed to one of the lines with his index finger. “I think ‘no crayons of debauchery’ is a bit unnecessary.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Your time between the two is divvied up almost perfectly evenly, as expected of Percy’s scheduling. Sometimes, Ramsey can even go somewhere with you as long as an officer (typically Percy) accompanies you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 On occasion, you’ll also get ‘babysat’ by Meryl or Sergeant Eros when both your parents are unavailable. Meryl can be a bit…jumpy, but typically well meaning. And Eros will let you ride shotgun if he takes you to work with him (given that the work is appropriate and something you can tag along for).

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Ramsey makes drawings of your OCs and Percy hangs them on her fridge. It’s kind of comical to see your fursona or the like hung up in her otherwise rather plain kitchen, but it’s also a sweet reminder of how she’s invested in your interests.

“I must admit, I am curious.” You perked your head up at the sound of your mother’s voice, watching as she admired one of the papers hung up with a magnet on her fridge. When she was done examining the drawing like it was some sort of specimen, she’d stand up to her full height and look your way. “Why am I drawn as a beaver in this picture?”

“Oh,” you explained between bites of food, “I always thought if you were an animal, that’s what you’d be, because you make all kinds of buildings when you’re working.”

This answer seemed to leave her pleased, almost glowing in response to your perception of her. With a hand over her heart, she spoke in a calm voice. “Ah, the beaver. Truly an industrious creature. Nature’s architect, presiding over the flowing waters, arbiting their path….”

….Well, that probably meant she was happy about the fursona you came up for her.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I wouldn’t call Percy overprotective per se, but she is very cautious. Like if you want to ride a bike, she’ll make sure you have a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pads….overall, just makes sure to take all possible safety measures in a situation. She’ll never stop you from doing something you want to do within reason, she’ll just make sure she’s there to keep an eye on you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’ve also likely met Howie once or twice because he’s a good friend (slash business rival) of Percy’s. He gave you a honeyed snack once. It tasted good, but the texture is…..questionable.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite Percy being classic lawful good, Ramsey can actually be the more reasonable one, aka having more common sense in a situation. Sometimes, parent-child bonding is just being surrounded by wackiness while both expressing complete and utter exasperation.

“Hey dad, do you know what is happening right now at all?” You loved your mother to death, but her idea of a ‘fun activity’ could often be rather strange. Like now, where she was currently trying to enforce road safety laws to the Mario Kart CPUs. While losing.

All the man could do was shake his head and crack a grin. “Eh, just roll with it, kiddo. You get used to it after a while.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They both give headpats, but Percy’s are a sort of stiff “pat pat” while Ramsey’s is more of a noogie that messes up your hair. You don’t have the heart to say either one is better than the other, though.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They’re both wonderful, really. Both a little weird, but that’s part of what makes your family so great.

[mmjmmj]

Huskerdust ticklesss!!!! Lee husk if possible ;) please and thank you

(No pressure my darling!)

Ohohoho don’t worry my friend, Lee husk is DEFIANTLY possible!

Keep a note this is my first fic that I’ve wrote in 8 years so I hope he succeeded in making this the best fic I could possibly write so thank you! <3

Your fuckin’ ticklish?:

Hazbin hotel | tickle fic|

Lee!husk

Ler!Angel

Husk had seemed more moody than usual, mumbling under his breath as he worked, that negativity didn’t go unnoticed, especially to Angel dust.

Angel dust watched Husk work as the rest of the Hazbin hotel group spoke with one another, until the others began to conclude to do their own things such as Charlie and Vaggie going to their room to nap, Alastor manifested into the shadows and disappeared into thin air to go god knows where, Nifty running off to go clean the hotel some more and finally Sir Pentious slithered away to go work on some wacky invention. This left the spider sinner and the miserable looking bartender to themselves though the two were barely interacting.

Angel decided to break the silence between the two, walking over to the bar and sitting on a bar stool, resting two arms on the bar and resting his head on his hands.

"What’s gotten in you today?" Angel asked, he couldn’t help but feel a little concern for Husk as he usually wasn’t this groggy at all.

Husk had his back turned, cleaning a bottle with a cloth that he uses to clean everything with.

"What do you mean?" Husk grumbled, that response was very clear enough that something was wrong with Husk today.

"I don’t know, you seem.. how do I put this..? More grouchy than usual,you know? Is there somethin’ up" Angel asked, it was a surprise to Husk that Angel wasn’t trying to dish out little flirty remarks to the bartender.

Husk turned to Angel, reaching under the bar and pulling out a bottle that he had near by, taking a big swig before his black and yellow eyes met Angel’s.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Yeah bullshit, something was defiantly up and Husk just didn’t want to admit it.

"Is it because you been missing me Husky?~ cmon! You can admit it, you know." Angel grinned leaning over the bar a little.

Husk scoffed before turning away, he thought too soon about Angel not flirting with him.

"Oh fuck you." Husk hissed.

Angel’s grin faded a little, deciding now probably wasn’t the right time to be trying to flirt with Husk, seeing as he did not want to hear it.

"Are you sure you don’t need a break or anythin’? You’ve been on your feet for hours. Cmon, come have a seat." Angel offered, patting his hand on the empty barstool next to him.

Husk thought for a second, he was getting tired, mentally and physically, bartending is not a very easy job when you’ve been working without a break for a good few hours. Husk took the offer, putting his bottle down, making his way around the bar to sit next to the taller sinner.

"Fine but not for too long, I still have things that need to be done before I can finish work." Husk told Angel, having a break kind of felt wrong to him, he never really took breaks, he’d only usually take one if Charlie would pretty much force him too, seeing him work for too long wasn’t a nice sight for Charlie either, In this case it was Angel to made him take a break.

".. hey, are you not gonna pour me a drink before you take your break?" Angel asked, Husk immediately went to get up but was stopped by Angel, placing his hand on Husk’s lap and pushing him back into his seat.

"I was jokin" Angel assured Husk. Husk sighed and relaxed into his seat, this kind of felt very comfortable.

Angel’s next move was try and get in to the bottom of this case to see why his alcoholic friend was in such a bad mood today.

"So, are you gonna tell me what’s up? Bad day, or are you just not in the mood today?"Angel asked, crossing his four set of arms as he waited for an answer.

Husk’s eyes narrowed a little, he didn’t really like talking about things that was stressing him out or putting him down, but seeing Angel this concerned for him made him gave in to speak.

"I just.. didn’t really feel like working today.. that’s all.." Husk mumbled reaching for his bottle to take a few swigs before finishing his drink, practically slamming it back down on the bar.

Angel frowned a little, he didn’t like that, Angel knew how stressful it was not wanting to work but having to anyway, though the two’s line of work was completly different but still work is mentally DRAINING.

"Maybe you should start taking more breaks, your overworking yourself a little, I mean your up awake before anyone else is just to work, you deserve more then one break, you know." Angel gave Husk some reassurance.

"Works the only thing I know.. there’s nothing better to do anyway." Husk grumbled, that negativity quickly coming back, oh Angel did not like this at all.

"Ohhhh bullshit! There’s more to this afterlife then workin’ even I have days off, so should you!" Angel reached over and lightly scratched his fingers under Husk’s chin.

Husk suddenly pulled away, a soft little chuckle escaping his lips which he couldn’t hold back, fuck. The room went silent, Angel’s eyes winded as he pulled his arm back.

"What was that?"

Husk immediately tried to cover up, stuttering over his words as he spoke.

"T-that was nothing! You should really keep your fucking hands to yourself." Husk muttered, his fur stood a little out of embarrassment.

Angel didn’t know what to make of it, he never would have expected that reaction from Husk, he was expecting more a low like purr then a chuckle, then the realisation struck him, no there’s no way, is Husk ticklish?

"… are you fuckin’ ticklish?" Angel asked in a surprised tone, this made Husk panic and tried to cover it up, there was no way he’d live that down, nevermind the group knowing he’s ticklish but one person? That was enough for him.

"F-fuck no! I’m not fucking ticklish! I don’t know where you would get that assumption from!" Husk trembled over his words, the stuttering only made things worse for him.

Angel couldn’t hide that grin that was now growing on his face, standing up as he looked down on Husk.

"That assumption is coming from that little chuckle that came from you when I scratched that little furry chin of yours’ whiskers! I was expecting some purrin’ not some fuckin’ chucklin’." Angel purred, Husky stood up backing away a little from Angel.

"You know.. i really should be getting back to work thanks for the break but you can go n-" Husk was cut off when two long arms grabbed the bartenders wrists and pulled him to close to Angel, pulling them up and holding both hands above his head.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Husk hissed, tugging at his hands that were now stuck above his head.

"Well I’m trying to help you lighten up! And I think I found just the way to do that, Whiskers~" Angel cooed, Husk had felt his nervousness hit the roof.

"A-And how are you going to do that? Come on, Angel this is fucking stupid, let me go!" Husk begged, he could feel his fur puffing and standing up when Angel said he was trying to lighten him up, knowing damm well what was going to coming his way next.

"Well I’m gonna tickle the moodiness out of ya of course! Now let’s see a smile!" Angel rose his voice, his lower set of arms reaching out for Husk’s sides, starting off the tickle attack with some quick paced ticklish squeezes to them, this made Husk jump immediately feeling his knees go jelly as he tried to wiggle his torso away from the tickles hitting his body.

Husk tried to hold in those giggles that were building up in his throat, threatening to escape through his lips once they opened, shaking his head at what Angel said about seeing his smile.

"Ohoho? Not breakin’ yet? Not to worry! This tickle monster is gonna eat you all up!~" Angel playfully growled, drilling his fingers into the little pressure points in Husk’s sides. The teasing and drilling was the right technique to make the grouchy, old bartender break and let those giggles slip through the passage that was now his open mouth.

Husk squealed out, beginning to giggle away at the ticklish sensations that were refused to leave his sides.

"A-Ahahahahahangel! You fuhuhuhuhuhuhucking bahahahahastard! Stohohohohop this!" Husk giggled away, his laughter sounded so different to his normal voice, Husk’s voice was low and raspy, his giggles were way more high pitched.

"Awww look at that! Looks like you’re just not some old boring bastard after all! Your a adorable little kitty!" Angel continued with the pet names, this actually made Husk feel his face burn up from embarrassment, Angel was tickling him and teasing him?! This was fucking heaven torture

"Dohohohohohohohont fuhuhuhuhuhucking cahahahahall me thahahahhat! Quhuhuhuhuhuit it!" Husk tried to sound serious but the tickling was preventing that, making the former overlord sound all silly and giggly.

"Quit it?" Angel asked

"We’ve only gotten started how c- oooooooh I see what the problem is, you want me to tickle somewhere else, don’t ya? Make my little whiskers laugh till all his problems have faded, that’s what you want, don’t ya?" Angel cooed, his fingers began to move up to scribble into Husk’s armpits, earning a now sharp squeal from the shorter sinner.

"EHEHHEEHEK! T-Thahahahahhaahahats n-nohohohhoot whahahahhat I fuhuhuhucking meant!" Husk whined; Husk was actually fucking whined! Seeing Husk like this warmed Angel’s heart up to the touch, circling his fingers on Husk’s armpits with enjoyment, Angel was definitely gonna have to do this to husk more often.

"Then what did you mean hmmm? It seems like to me you’re already enjoying this too much! Listen to that handsome laugh and how big that smile is! You’re adorable!" Angel teased, succeeding in making Husk get more flustered by the second he spoke, already aiming for a new spot, his wiggly fingers traveled down from Husk’s armpits to that soft, white furry tummy of his.

This made Husk shriek, immediately falling weak to the tickles. "FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK AHAHAHAHAHANGEL NAHAHAHHAHAT THEHEHEHRE!" Husk begged, Angel went down with Husk, pinning the overlord to the ground, seating himself on his waist, letting his fingers do the work as they squeezed, scribbled and prodded away at Husk’s tummy like there was no tomorrow!

"Awww did I find a sweet spot? I think I diiiiiiid~ coochie coochie coo, Husky!~" Angel couldn’t help but laugh along with Husk, finding Husk go from the grumpy old bartender, to a now happy little ticklish kitten at his mercy to his wiggling fingers was adorable to him.

"IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHHAD! CUHUHUHUHUT IT OHOHOHOHOUT!" Husk shrieked out, cackling away to the tummy tickles.

Angel wasn’t that evil as a tickle monster, so he decided to give Husk a break, not wanting to completely destroy him… yet.

"There I stopped, now catch ya breath before I resort to let my claws tickle away at that tummy again" Angel purred, letting the bartender catch his breath.

"Ohohoho f-fuhuhuck.. t-that was ruthless.." Husk panted out, though husk was exhausted already a little sound could be heard rising from the back of his throat, Husk was purring!

Angel’s eyes widened, not expecting this at all from Husk, this to him was fucking adorable. "Are you fuckin’ purring?!" Angel exclaimed, Husk’s fur stood proud as his face now burned up with blush as he panicked to try and cover it up.

"N-no I’m fucking not purring, your hearing things!" Husk claimed, uh huh, his purring was still very loud and could be heard.

"You like this don’t you?" Angel purred, Husk became a lost for words, the room quiet, the only thing to be heard was Husk purring uncontrollably and loudly.

"Awww, don’t be embarrassed! That’s adorable!" Angel teased, giving a few pokes to Husk’s tummy. Husk giggled through purrs, trying to suck in his tummy.

"Shuhuhuhut up!" Husk whined, finding this all very overwhelming to comprehend. Angel retreated his fingers, a big playful looking grin on his face as he stared into the bartender’s eyes.

"Alright your break is over! Let’s get back to tickling this very ticklish tummy of yours, shall we~? alright imma count to 10 and when I finish countin’ I’m gonna make you shriek!" Angel cooed, his fingers twitching in anticipation.

Husk could not argue with any of this, feeling unable to get the words out, if he tried to speak he would just be a flustered, stuttering mess.

"Ten… nine… eight.. Seven.." Angel began to countdown, lowering his now wiggling fingers to Husk’s tummy, slowly, threatening to tickle him with every inch of his life.

"Six… five… four… three two one!" Angel counted down to end his counting, his hands’s shoot down and squeezing all over Husk’s tummy, making him shriek loud enough to possibly shatter a window.

"NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHNGEL! EHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!" Husk screamed out, cackling away once more, kicking his little legs under Angel desperately, trying to get free, though he was actually enjoying this, but there would be no way he would admit that.

"Awwww listen to that laugh! Such a handsome little kitty I have here, don’t I?" Angel teased, his wiggling fingers scribbling up and down Husk’s tummy, making it quiver and suck in, trying to get away from those evil fingers that were attacking it with tickles.

"EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEK! THIHIHIHIHIHIHIS IS FUHUHUHUHUHUCKING EHEHEHEHEVIL!" Husk whined, his face burning up with blush, squeezing his eyes shut hoping this would make the tickles more bearable, which didn’t work at all.

"We’re in hell! Course this is evil! You’re my little victim who can’t escape out of my web! Meeeeow~" Angel cooed, now laughing along with Husk once again, having too much fun with all of this.

Angel’s fingers scribbled all over Husk’s tummy with pleasure, making Husk wheeze out and cackle away under the wiggling fingers that were attacking him, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, unable to take this anymore.

"EHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHHAA OHOHOHHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY! MERCY! NOHOHOHOHHOHO MOHOHOHORE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!" Husk begged, Angel immediately stopped, not wanting to push any boundaries, letting go of Husk’s wrists.

Husk was a messy, flustered pile of giggles, giggling away as the purring came back straight away. "Ohohohohoho f-fuhuhuhuck.. t-that was brutal." Husk huffed out, Angel reached out and rubbed his hand on Husk’s tummy, helping him get rid of the phantom tickles that was still attacking his tummy.

"I’m glad you had fun too." Angel winked, knowing damn well Husk enjoyed all of this.

"O-oh s-shut the fuck up.." Husk whined, his purring rising louder from the tummy rubs, Angel was being very caring for Husk and you know what? This was actually cheering him up.

"Do you plan on going to work or are you gonna call it a day?" Angel asked, cocking a brow in question.

Husk calmed down a little, feeling capable to speak properly without stuttering now. "I’m.. probably gonna finish my jobs tomorrow now" Husk told Angel, Angel nodding in approval to that answer.

"Good… hey, since you’re not working now, would you wanna.. maybe go back to my room and watch a movie or somethin’?" Angel asked, standing up off of the bartender and reaching out to help him up.

Husk took Angel’s hand and stood up, he couldn’t help but smile, feeling very much cheered up, all thanks to that spider.

"I… I would love that.." Husk told Angel, which earned a big smile back from Angel.

"That’s great, cmon! Let’s go, I have a good taste in movies!" Angel claimed as he grabbed Husk’s hand and began to drag him to his room.

"Only if you’re not talking about your movies." Husk joked, earning a snort from Angel.

"Nah of course not!" Angel giggled, feeling very happy that he cheered up Husk, he was defiantly going to do this again if he catches his favourite bartender down in the dumps again.

[brightstarblogs]

RainCode Honorifics!

First let me preface this by saying I'm not Japanese so there may be a few mistakes in this post.

I haven't seen anyone else make a post on this so I figured I'd do it myself. I've always found honorifics interesting in Japanese media and often include them in my fics. RainCode is a little different however because all characters go by their first names instead of surnames which most Japanese media typically use (since most surnames are westernized/wacky). This interested me so I wanted to do a little research!

But yeah, if you want to use honorifics in your own fics or just find Japanese linguistics interesting, I hope you enjoy this post! It has taken me 3-4 months to compile this list.

Spoilers ahead!

Yuma: Typically Yuma uses -san when referring to other characters. However there are a few exceptions to this. Yuma uses -chan to refer to Shinigami (because she asked him too) and with Kurumi. He also changes to using -kun for Desuhiko after they arrive at Aetheria Academy in chapter 2/Gum shoe gab 2 to show they're friends (but this could be to reciprocate the fact Desuhiko changed from using Rookie to My man). He does not use any honorifics for the peacekeepers (Yomi, Martina, etc) to show he doesn't respect them and Makoto (Although he will use -san when talking to Makoto). He also doesn't use honorifics on Aiko, Karen, Waruna, Yoshiko and Kurane, although he does use -san when speaking to other students in the investigation.

Shinigami: She tends to not use any honorifics and instead uses nicknames. Most notably Akuma-chan for Halara (Hellara in the dub). When she does use a character's name it is with no honorific. I did notice she uses -dono in the gum shoe gabs when saying Yuma's bond with a character has deepened. -dono is often used in writing letters/emails, but also is used in a lot of fantasy media/JRPGs. Shinigami does reference Dragon Quest in the dub so perhaps this is just her being a nerd (Special thanks too @/rararazaquato for pointing this out). If you want to know more about the nicknames she gives the NDA in Japanese, please look at this post!

Halara: They use no honorifics for any character. The only time I heard them use one was in their DLC when they use -san for their client (They do not use Tetra's name though. They say Ojo-san).

Desuhiko: He also doesn't tend use honorifics. Unlike Halara though he uses nicknames. He refers to Fubuki as Ojou, which translates as Young lady/princess. He uses -chan for Shinigami and Kurumi but also when referring to female characters like Guillaume and NPCs where he'll say neko-chan. He also calls Yuma Rookie until they arrive at Aetheria Academy, where he changes to My man for the rest of the game.

Fubuki: Uses -san for every character.

Vivia: Uses -kun for most characters. He doesn't use honorifics for Yomi or Makoto, and uses -chan for Kurumi

Yakou: Like Halara and Desuhiko, Yakou tends not to use honorifics but there are a few exceptions. He uses -chan for Fubuki and Kurumi. He also calls Seth -sensei when he was trying to deescalate the situation in chapter 1. He uses -san for Tetra, so I think he uses honorifics with clients. I don't know for certain but that's my theory.

Kurumi: Now, Kurumi tends to use -san for most characters. She used -san with Yuma when they first meet, but switches to -chan when he is in disguise in the school to help blend in. She then uses -kun from chapter 3 onwards (and once in chapter 2 when she's held by a peacekeeper, but Yuma doesn't hear her). She doesn't use honorifics with Akio, Karen, Waruna, Yoshiko, Kurane and Shachi.

Makoto: He uses a variety of honorifics. He tends not to use any for Yuma, but also does say -kun. He also uses -kun for both Yomi and Martina/Suwaro. He also uses -chan for Kurumi.

Now onto minor characters where it gets a little difficult due to screen time.

Pucci: Uses -san for Zange so maybe uses -san for other cast members.

Melami: I didn't hear her use any honorifics as she doesn't refer to others by name and tends to use nicknames.

Zange: He didn't call any character by their name so I have no idea unfortunately.

Aphex: Used nicknames so again, I am not sure.

Zilch(?)/Hitman: In chapter 1 he uses -kun for both Yuma and Aphex. He did not address the rest of the cast by name so I have no idea if he'd use -san or -kun for Pucci or Melami. Even then I don't know if that was an act as he is an imposter. He uses -sama however for Yomi in chapter 5 when you find him as a zombie.

Martina: Fun fact, she is actually called Suwaro/Swallow in the Japanese sub! I don't know why her name is changed but this was a fun surprise. She uses -sama for both Yomi and Makoto. She doesn't use names for the NDA.

Swank: He didn't use any names, but I included him because like Martina, his name was changed. Originally he was called Spank in the Japanese sub.

Yomi: Only ever called Martina by her name with no honorific.

Seth: Like most peacekeepers he calls Yomi by -sama.

Guillaume: She tends to refer to Dominic by just his name, along with Shachi. She however does use -sama for Yomi like the other peacekeepers.

Priest: Uses -san for the clock-maker

Teacher: Although this is Desuhiko, in disguise he calls Kurumi by -san.

Yoshiko: No honorifics

Kurane: No honorifics

Waruna: No honorifics

Shachi: No honorifics

Iruka: Uses -san for Yuma but no honorifics for Shachi.

Servan: Doesn't use honorifics for other resistant members, but uses -kun for Yuma

Icardi: No honorifics

Margulaw: No honorifics

Ramen man: Uses -chan for Kurumi. Not sure what he'd use for other characters.

Enyne: Before she reveals her identity she uses -san for Desuhiko

[queenburd]

happy 4/32 my friends. i wanted to get a bigger thing out, but it sadly isn't done, so instead, here is the first part to it. self contained and foreboding. 8)

formatting may be broken on tumblr. i will be crossposting this to ao3 shortly, with slightly tidier formatting optimistically.

if you like this fic, please check me out on ao3!

-

Stanley is frowning pensively at his computer, chin rested on folded hands. He has not exited his office yet, too lost in his own thoughts while his eyes flick across the black screen.

THE STANLEY PARABLE 12: Forgotten Pantry The Original Tax Disk It's Either Me or the Didgeridoo Baby Ice Hidden Paperwork Wacky Tuesday | Confirm |

As the sequel number suggests, this is not the first time Stanley has seen this screen. It is, however, the first time he has really sat and thought about what he is looking at. The first time he has tried to understand what it means.

Stanley takes a deep, shaking breath.

“Stanley? Is everything okay? You've been in there for rather a lot longer than I was expecting.”

He nearly jumps in his seat, head snapping to face the door. The Narrator is peeking at him from around the corner guilelessly, expression beginning to shift into concern at the reaction he receives. His eyes flick from Stanley's face to the screen, confusion visible in the quirk of his mouth.

“What's going on?”

The Narrator steps into the office to examine the monitor, and both of them watch, with growing anxiety, as the display disappears without warning.

A palpable tension fills the silence. In the reflection of his dark monitor, Stanley watches the Narrator's gaze move from it to him.

“S...Stanley, what the hell just happened?”

Stanley swallows.

It's not that he wants to keep this from the Narrator—he just doesn't know where to even begin.

-

The first time Stanley was given a prompt on his computer was the same run that the New Content door appeared in place of door 416. He had intended to ask the Narrator about the screen asking him to set the clock, but then—well. They'd both become a bit...occupied.

Since then, the command had appeared sporadically after a reset, without any pattern behind it. And—And Stanley had just assumed, for whatever reason, that it was another small addition the Narrator had created for the “sequel” content. Something to make Stanley feel like he was doing something new, to make him happy.

He doesn't think he's a foolish person, usually, but thinking back on when he first started getting prompts on his computer monitor—how he in the moment would set the time without really thinking about the action—Stanley feels like he should have paid closer attention to what he was doing. What the white font was saying.

Help. | Yes | | No |

Why had he not thought about this? Why had he just taken it at face value? Why had he never noticed the tone, the writing pattern? Why had he not questioned its comments?

He hadn't realized he'd been interacting with someone new until he'd found the monitor in a dark room under the sand-filled Memory Zone, and, well, considering Stanley's state of mind at the time--

--he doesn't want to be alone, in this wasteland. He knows in the end what he's going to choose, and he hates that he does--

--it's understandable that he'd had other priorities. It's completely reasonable that Stanley had not, in his emotional state, tried to learn more about the mysterious white font that spoke about the Narrator in the third person, and seemed to have as much power or more than the voice ever had.

He'd come back a wreck. The Narrator had worked to help him recover, distracting and comforting Stanley in turns, and that had been the end of it, hadn't it?

(Except Stanley had gone back to the Achievement Machine, and the Narrator had sounded terribly afraid. Stanley had thought about sand, and sand, and sand, and he had kept it to himself as to not make things all the worse.)

Look, all this is in the past. It's been ages, really, since the Epilogue, and since then he and the Narrator have found a good routine that works for them. Stanley plays the game, the Narrator berates him for his choices in a voice that's exceptionally exasperated and fond in turns, and life goes on. A good eighty percent of the time, the fellow does this in person, hand in his own and smile undisguised.

They are happy, mostly. Sometimes there are hurdles, sometimes there are meltdowns and arguments and hard conversations, but honestly, genuinely, Stanley is happy.

But then this screen pops up, after god knows how many runs, and Stanley finds that it concerns him.

“And suddenly, I'm thinking about the scope of this world again, and my place inside it. The realities versus the impressions. I start to think about all of my assumptions, all of the many things I used to take for granted, things you and I spent so long at each other's throats over!”

The Stanley Parable cannot end. It can only spiral in on itself, forever.

I must keep the wheel turning.

A wheel, ever turning. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Don't stop playing the game. Drag your counterpart back when he's finally pulled himself free, and watch him do the same to you.

He should have paid attention. He should have told the Narrator. He should have done something, right?

But what, exactly, can he do? What power does he have here? How does Stanley figure this one out?

-

Across from him, the Narrator stares into the middle distance, hand pressed over his chin and mouth while he thinks aloud.

“Okay, so I guess we have an answer to that Machine starting to work, so that's one mystery solved. Granted, it doesn't really answer the how, but I'm starting to think it's similar to the Museum issue, where certain files are just completely inaccessible to me for gameplay reasons. You don't suppose this has anything to do with her, do you?”

Stanley shakes his head. The voice in the Museum has never interacted with him outside of that space, and the tone of the prompts has never seemed much like her, anyway.

“No, I suppose that would be too easy. Too straightforward of an answer, and we can't have that,” the fellow says sardonically, sighing. He rubs his forehead. “This one's on me, I think, for finally thinking I understood the ins and outs of the Parable. It just keeps throwing surprises at us, and really, we should know better.”

Stanley shrugs, slumped in his chair and rolling over what feels a bit like shame in his stomach. He's just as liable, for not thinking anything of it; for getting kind of complacent. They're both prone to being a bit stupid.

“Your job is to press buttons, Stanley, you've never needed to work with a full toolkit.”

He makes a face at the somewhat-crooked smile directed at him, but the attempt at normalcy is appreciated.

“Well, I don't know what much else there really is to do about this. Whatever it is, it hasn't been malicious at all, so even if it is an actual entity and not just, er, another feature, then we have to assume it's... fine?”

So, what, just... continue on like none of this happened?

The Narrator sighs again, before he straightens from where he's been leaned on Stanley's desk. “I don't know what else we can do. Unless you have any bright ideas.”

...no, not at the moment. He'd probably think on it at least, but if the Narrator isn't going to worry about it, then it's likely out of Stanley's hands too. He stands and stretches, placing a hand on the fellow's shoulder.

He's sorry, again, that he didn't bring this up. But he's glad to see that the Narrator is, by all accounts, taking this pretty well?

“Stanley,” the fellow says, smiling tightly at him, “I am freaking out right now.”

Oh. Um. He kneads his fingers into the Narrator's shoulder in a weak attempt at comfort. A hand lifts and covers his own.

“I'm not upset with you, Stanley. I just wish I had answers for you.”

He nods, and leads the fellow out of his office by the shoulder. Come on. Let's go find a distraction. Door 430, maybe?

“Yes, that... That sounds nice. Thank you, Stanley.”

[yyxandere]

psst psst, i heard you wanted some ace attorney requests so mind if i chip in with my own idea for a oneshot you could so? (or any type of format you think is best, i don’t mind :) /gen)

how about a y/n that just cares for iris a lot and always dotes on her, kinda like a mother or sister figure to the girl and sholmes is just so fucking enamored with her that he kinda tries tricking her to stay behind and spend time with them some more, usually by using iris as an excuse. you can choose however you wish to end it or change up any of the details if you’d like, i’ve read some of your content and i like it a lot!! (i might even send in more requests if you don’t mind hehehe)

･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄

[♡]ー ꒱・！CHARACTERS！:: SHERLOCK HOLMES AND IRIS WILSON.

☆ - Art Credits: NELL

✧.* gender/pronouns ─ 'You' pronouns yet female titles

✩.* note ─ HIII MOOTIE ITS BEEN SO LONG LOL!! I RLLY HOPE U LIKE THIS, IM SO BRAINDEAD WHEN I WAS DOING THIS SO IM SO SO OSRRY IF ITS ASS BC OF HOW RUSHED IT IS 😭😭

✩.* TRIGGER WARNINGS ─ Overbearingness, Manipulation, and Drugging, Guilt Tripping and SPOILERS FOR TGAA 2

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)! You have to see this new discovery!"

Such eagerness could be heard at 221B Baker Street or the house of “The Great Detective” - Herlock Sholmes and Iris Wilson. May the days be cloudy or rainy nothing can ruin the mood the cheerfulness of the young assistant Iris whenever you're around. The giddiness she feels whenever you visit could always make you smile.

"(Y/n), please do taste this new tea that I brewed!"

"(Y/n) You have to come with me to the upcoming science festival! I already have three tickets, for all three of us!"

No matter how tired you are you can never deny her, especially not when she asks so earnestly and her eyes! Oh, her eyes whenever she pleads! They glow! She's the very embodiment of pure joy, happiness, and warmth, she could make anyone feel better no matter what kind of mood they were having, and you couldn't help but adore the way she talks.

Even if it's a simple thing such as drinking her new blend, you always manage to eat the pastries she made, but most of the time you help her make the sweet pastries, but in most cases both of you would be covered in flour yet not minding it for how you were both laughing. Iris brings a side of you, a very nice and warm feeling, like how a mother loves her child . . .

Herlock too was a nice individual to be with, even though quite an eccentric individual he was still a companion that you enjoy being with but it made you very much have less time for your own personal things, for example, Herlock dragging you from your friends to show off his new invention or basically dragging you to his crazy and wacky shenanigans the same could be said about Iris, she would also always invite you to where ever she is, may it be her inviting you to their house so you can help her bake or going where ever she and Herlock goes, it could be very overwhelming but who are you to say no to them?

Herlock knows what he is doing. The many times when he always picked up a case near your house or city just to get close to you, the times when he put laudanum a sleeping drug on one of Iris's teas whenever you were at their house so you could sleep there, don't worry about bothering them it's really fine! While you sleep in the guest bedroom Herlock likes to watch you sleep maybe it was the way your relaxed state made him feel giddy or the fact that he can touch you and kiss you while you sleep. That, or just because you look really cute when you sleep. It's definitely because of the latter reason.

Whenever Herlock sees you baking, cooking, or just spending time with Iris, he just can't help but imagine what would it feel like but him hugging you from behind as you give him kisses while you call him your beloved husband…

"Dinner's ready Herlock!" You said as you took the freshly baked potato out of the oven while you did that Iris was preparing the table, putting the

cutleries neatly, she intentionally put your plate next to Herlock and hers, making sure that you would be in the middle. Herlock was already seated at the dining table, waiting for the two of you to arrive.

"Here you go! Hope you guys like enjoy it!" You said as you put down the bowl full of mashed potatoes that were still steaming. "Well then dig in!" you said as you sat in the middle, not knowing that you were unconsciously following their plan.

"My, this is incredibly good dear (Y/n), if you keep on cooking like this I might as well marry you, so I can taste this every day." Herlock said as he took another bite of the food, you then giggled "You're amusing Herlock." you said thinking what he said was some sort of flattery or joke, but Herlock was dead serious, he actually meant it and you felt a little flustered since you were caught off guard.

"(Y/n), there's a new festival tomorrow and I bought three tickets already, I was supposed to invite Mr, Van Zieks but he was busy, so was Gina and Mr, Kazuma, so you don't mind if you join us right? Just me you and Hurley!" Iris said cheerfully as she looked at you with such pleading eyes. If only you knew the exact plan she had.

"Ohh, Iris, I have plans tomorrow I have to help a friend of mine to do research about the new case he's trying to solve plus I have to be there to also babysit his daughter too…" You said dejectedly after you said that you noticed the immediate fade of the glimmer Iris had on her eyes and the smile she just had now vanished but was replaced with a dejected one, a sad smile that made you feel like you just ruined a dream of hers, you then noticed Herlock wiping his mouth with the napkin and taking out his pipe.

"Well that's a bother, Iris was excited for the festival and wanted anyone to be with her but all rejected the offer, mh it's such a shame…" Herlock said as he closed his eyes and blew his pipe smoke to the ceiling "It's alright, she'll find other friends to hang out with."

You were about to reply to Herlock's comment but Iris beat you to it.

"No need Hurley, I won't go to the festival…" Now that's when you saw little tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, such a scene truly broke your heart, and before you could stop yourself, you reached over to Iris and grabbed her hands, which made Iris shocked by the sudden move.

"I'll go! I'll talk to them so I can go to the festival! So please don't give me that look, Iris…" You said in a softly stern voice. Iri's eyes immediately lit up and her smile came back again. "Really! you would go!" Iris said excitedly as you nodded which made Iris yell out a little yay and as Herlock smiled and put down his pipe. "You would not regret it (Y/n), I swear you wouldn't!" Iris said as she hugged you.

After dinner, Iris wanted to sleep early so she could prepare herself for the big day tomorrow so you decided to leave soon after but Iris wanted you to stay so you could read her a bedtime story, even if it was late and there's a high chance that there will be fewer cabs at this late hour but your heart ached seeing how disappointed she was by the turn of events earlier you didn't want her to be unhappy or feel bad and besides, she asked you nicely after all.

When Iris started to doze off, you carefully moved away from the book and stood up where Herlock was with his trusty pipe in his hand.

"It looks like your soothing voice really made Iris sleep, that's a kind of talent that I needed before when Iris was a baby." Herlock chuckled reminiscing about those memories, You giggled in reply, "Well then my dear lady, I should walk you home, at this late hour there are many thugs that are willing to prey on an unsuspecting woman like you." Herlock said as you both walked down the stairs, even though you were worried that you might bother Herlock but at the same time you do prioritize your safety too, "Oh, well, you are right."

Walking home was very relaxing, small conversation there while Herlock smoked his pipe but it was a very pleasant silence and when you reached your home you said goodbye and goodnight.

"Well then thank you for walking with me Herlock, sorry if it was a bother, well then see you tomorrow!" You said but before you could open your door, Herlock took your hand and kissed it, he then gave you a very seductive eye and hugged you.

"Well then, I'll be off, make sure that you actually keep your promise tomorrow, yes? You do not want to ruin Iris's smile do you?. . .'

[kamiko1234]

Okay done with chapter 10 starting with chapter 11 of The Lightning Thief, and normally I planned on not making a post on every single chapter BUT, I do have some changes/additions in my traitor theories.

So first off, Annabeth is the traitor. SO far has the most prove in the book imo (which is till meager), but I REALLY don't like how she told Percy that they HAVE to not get along because of their parents. Personally I just think that's more proof for my "Annabeth is the traitor" theory.

She was pretty nice to Percy pre-claiming, and on the bus she did fully intend sacrificing herself for him. But she also seems to have this very deep anchored world view of how their parents should affect them and their actions.

So, I modify my theory : Annabeths a traitor, but will get a redemption arc. The reason for the betrayal stays the same, her mom and her rivalry with Poseidon. And Annabeth would think that she NEEDS to betray Percy bc she's the kid of her mom.

So instead of being a malicious traitor, she'd be more like a tragic, indoctrinated villain who needs to be shown to do better ! It most definitely would be interesting.

HOWEVER, this is based of the reaction of another friend when I talked to them about my theories and they reacted very...... weird. After some time I threw in Grover being the traitor more as a joke and while not SAYING anything, that silence was SHOUTING.

So, Grover being the traitor. Canon proof ? Not rly there. Would it be one hell of a plot twist ? YES. Could be bitterness maybe ? My impression was that Satyrs were sort of servants or atleast bellow halfbloods in some way. I could deffo see him getting worked up over that.

Then however he did have a close relationship with Percy and a GOOD reason to stay loyal to get his license. So may I present : Multi-book build up of Grover betraying Percy.

With that I mean, should Grover be the traitor I think he wouldn't betray Percy in this book. Chiron said smth about prophecies having double meanings, so I assume they can be kinda wacky. Imagine Grover slowly building resent against the demi gods for how they use his ppl as tools/servants, and betrays Percy/the halfbloods as a whole in a later book. It could be a cool moment where the thing mentioned in the first book comes back around !

I do however admit myself, that theory is a WILD. Like, WILD WILD. And my only thing to go off on is the silence of my friend and the emoji's they send as a response. Take that theory with the BIGGEST grain of salt.

The third option I think possible : The traitor isn't gonna be Annabeth OR Grover, but will be a character later introduced. Comes from me starting to think that Annabeth could be a bit obvious with the whole sudden switch in how she acts with Percy making it a bit obvious. And the Grover theory being borderline crack.

That option would be my fav, since tbh I don't RLY want Annabth to go villain (even if the redemtion arc would be juicy as hell) but I also don't want Grover to start resenting his friends.

Logically speaking I do think it's Annabeth more likely than Grover tho. (Considering I now have theories for both being the traitor we're basically back to square one. Kill me, please.)

ON ANOTHER NOTE; apparently it's quite common for the author to describe scars as ugly looking and evil. (Thanks to the wonderful user who gave me that info !) Which, first off, YIKES. Not good, like at all.

That fact does however help me with my theory, since it allows me to safely eliminate one character for sure now. Luke !

I mean, I already didn't think it was him. The only thing that made me peek up was when he was described as evil-looking in that one paragraph. But if that (sadly) apparently is a norm, then it more likely than not wasn't foreshadowing.

So yeah, it's not gonna be Luke so I can just start to safely ignore him in my traitor theories. (Not like I ever considered him a real candidate in the first place, he's just safely eliminated in my head now)

[tomatoswup]

i had this silly idea i told my friend about what if the Trigun Stampede gang run in to a runaway teen reader and then the reader’s part of the gang. The reader’s in their rebellious phase of course and kinda argues with Wolfwood a lot. Can you write headcanons for this please? (°▽°)

Runaway!

A/N: i’M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE IT WAS A REALLY HECTIC MONTH😭😭😭😭 honestly, this was really fun to write heheheh,,, i can kinda see reader being a pain in the ass but with good intentions….maybe… But god i can imagine how crazy the stampede crew would be if they had a teen,,, i love it😌☝️☝️☝️ Hope you enjoy!!!(*´∇｀*)

warnings/tags: none!

Well aren't you a little anomaly in the bad deserts!

When you first encounter the gang, it wasn't a very...proud encounter.

To be exact, trying to steal Vash's gun in the middle of a busy bar was a very brave choice knowing that the Humanoid Typhoon was trying to eat spaghetti, and in the flesh!

Bold dare I say but, besides that, you were getting hunted by a group of thugs that had been going through town and uh, you sure did cause a bit of trouble.

And by trouble I mean you stole their car keys and went out for a joy ride.

Yup, crashed that shit rightttt into a boulder.

And of course Vash, who's a bit too kind for his own good at times, wanted to help someone so young to Wolfwood's disbelief. Meryl and Roberto? They've witnessed what he did for Jenora Rock so they kinda expected it.

After that first meeting, you naturally stuck to the wacky group and often times when needed, you tried to help them in exchange for saving your life.

Of course with payment :D It's a hard world for a runaway teen out here!

Don't worry you don't make them pay...sometimes...

Young and free they say hahaha!!...Yeah you had literally no more bullet to spare so time to get workin~

You often had Wolfwood reminisce his times back at the orphanage. He's lived there for so long and he's dealt with kids of many ages, but goddamn did you give this man a mf headache.

Sorry, correction, a migraine.

I damn right knowww he goes through twice the number of cigarette packs when you're around.

"Alright kid, no more grabbing shit or starting fights. Zip your mouth if you're gonna be tagging along-"

"Do you really think I'm gonna listen to a priest?"

"UNDERTAKER!"

"Same thing"

"No it's not!"

You glanced at Meryl for more input.

"...Okay I can see where they're coming from-"

"MERYL SERIOUSLY?!"

You got Wolfwood this close to Homer Simpson choking you out.

Sometimes Vash can't help but watch the both of you headbutt eachother.

He's the type of person to try and stop the fight and maintain the peace but bestie, when you're against a rebelling teenager anything is possible.

He understands tho bc he's also gone through his little phase, that's how he got his little earring :D

But asides from that, when he tries to stop ya'll you guys just ignore him lmAOOO

They say teens are rebellious while trying to find others who they can relate to or have a connection with and well, although you didn't really have a permanent home anymore like you use to, you slowly found yourself getting fond of this little wacky group.

And at some point while you guys got closer, Wolfwood tended to look after you a little more.

Was it because of his past? Or were you just a kid who needed the right guidance forward?

Either way, he tries his best to give you good advice,,, advice to keep you alive.

A practical guardian you could say,, Or kinda like an uncle?

And you know what, you don't mind it.

"Did your sticky little hands grab another fucking wallet? Seriously?"

'No I did not!" You narrowed your eyes at him "It's a map get it right. I also only steal from the rick-looking men Wolfwood cmon now-"

You ended up getting a bonk on the head from him, which led you to looking at Roberto, who downed another drink.

"What are you looking at me for?"

WHATCHU MEAN MY BOY ARE YOU REALLY NOT GONNA-

He really doesn't care lMAAOOO Most unphased man alive.

As long as no one dies!

And maybe after all of this time, even after those two years after what happened to July you guys will reunite again :)

You still a lil' shit tho

"does anyone have gum?"

"I haven't seen you in two years and you're asking me this?"

"...It was just a question..."

FUN TIMESSSSSS~

extra:

-you would wHIP THE NEWS AGENCY CAR ON A GOOD MORNING

-Meryl gets tired one night driving?

-"I'll drive for you!"

-Everyone regrets letting you touch that wheel.

-That poor car looks like if you were shaking a bag of skittles when you drive full speed over those sandy hills.

-You got Meryl thanking to god she put her seatbelt on

-Vash holding onto the back of the driver's seat for his life,, I think his nails left cuts in the seat itself jeez!

-Roberto's holding a hand out against your chest so you don't FLY out of your seat when you guys go airborne.

-And Wolfwood honestly wished the sandworms from earlier had eaten him.

-fuc- DID HIS PUNISHER JUST UNHOOK FROM THE ROOF-

-"STOP THE CAR STOP THE CAR!!"

[bri-sonat]

Silly Questions About Gwen’s Characters - Part Two

Silly Questions About Gwen's Characters Masterlist

This was a joint effort between @daydream-cement and me (of course with help from the wonderful Gwouncil GC, @na-shoba, @booitsrue, @funky--lesbian, and @margot-the-lesbian-god). She posted the first and will be posting the next part! We will go back and forth with these silly little questions.

Most embarrassing middle school moment?

Brienne: Brienne didn’t go to school, but her most embarrassing memory from when she was a child was THE ball. Yeah. We don’t need to talk about it.

Larissa: She snuck out to go to an ‘older kids’ party with a friend. Her parents showed up and she never lived it down. Haunts her memories. You know how people have that one little thing that keeps them up when they are trying to sleep? This is hers. 

Lucifer: Telling God they loved him 😦

Phasma: She doesn’t know what embarrassment is. She stares embarrassment in the face, eats it for breakfast, punches it in the face. Embarrassment should be embarrassed for trying to embarrass her.

Miranda: Far too many for her to count, or remember. Probably millions of moments when she wished she would have dug a hole underground and stayed there forever.

Which is their favorite: tits, ass, or other?

Brienne: As someone who has been judged by her physique her entire life, she doesn’t put much weight on body. However, she will become completely bewitched by tits and thighs. Like, in a trance, staring, just in complete awe.

Larissa: Tits. Boobs. Yes, please. Any shape or form. She loves them endlessly.

Lucifer: A sweet face. (Up to their interpretation. Don’t put your silly human beauty standards on them.) They don’t really have a favorite body part. With their person, all of it is their favorite.

Phasma: Phaddy is an ass man, she loves to see it bright red after she is finished with her lover. But, if you ask her she’d just simply say, “all of it. Next question.”

Miranda: “Do- Do I have to pick? Okay… Tits… Wait, no. Stomach… Wait, wait, wait, HIPS AND THIGHS. Yes, final answer, hips and thighs.” With her partner, she will stare at their ass and hips all day as they walk around the house. Also, she will find any way to have you wear her hands as a bra.

Favorite pizza toppings? List the top five in order.

Brienne: No pizza in the olden days, but if we talk modern setting: Cheese, ham, pineapple. I SAID IT, I SAID IT. Girl loves trying weird and wacky things and she absolutely loves the mix of salty and sweet and will praise pineapple on pizza whenever possible.

Larissa: Cheese, peppers, mushrooms, sausage

Lucifer: No cheese. Just tomato sauce and bread. They want to watch the world burn. 

Phasma: “Pizza? Once again, I have a strict diet. Do not make me eat a ‘pizza pie’, I need my protein.” Will however eat one if it has many vegetables on it, for the fiber.

Miranda: “How many toppings are too many toppings?” - direct quote from Miranda making her own pizza at home (it took forever to cook bc there were too many toppings)

What was the last (non-story-related) dream they had while sleeping?

Brienne: Had a nightmare dream about Podrick being a giant and her being tiny as they spar. She’d wake up in a cold sweat after, standing up as fast as possible to see if she was still tall, and would release a sigh of relief when Podrick is, still, shorter than her.

Larissa: Dreamt Nightmare about going to the Weathervane and they were out of hot chocolate

Lucifer: Falling….from heaven. 

Phasma: Nightmare where she has a picnic. That’s it. Picnics freak her out. (Nothing freaks her out, let’s be honest, but picnics for her are just, yuck.)

Miranda: That she was on a ship up in space, looking out over the planets and stars, and when she’d wake up she’d cry because she wasn’t actually in space. Going back to sleep in a desperate attempt to return to her dream.

If they suddenly vanished, what would their family assume they were up to? (Shopping, pranking people, overthrowing governments, etc.)

Brienne: Well, her father just assumes that she’s, you know, off fighting bad guys, and being all righteous and all.

Larissa: She’s at work of course. Check her desk chair. If she isn’t in it, well then, she is probably dead. 

Lucifer: Probably lounging in the gardens or reading somewhere inaccessible by everyone else. 

Phasma: What family?

Miranda: If Miranda hasn’t sent a single text the entire day (aka vanished), she’s kidnapped or no longer with us. 

What’s their least favorite possession that they wish they could get rid of, but can’t / shouldn’t?

Brienne: Her sword. Reminds her too much of Jaime but she can’t get rid of it considering it's Valyrian steel and extremely rare.

Larissa: Most likely a painting or knick-knack from her mother. It’s so tacky and strange, she was sure her mother gave it to her just to be mean. She absolutely despises it, but if she were to get rid of it then she would never hear the end of it. 

Lucifer: A Bible.

Phasma: What possessions?

Miranda: Something from the baby she was going to have. Perhaps a teddy bear or a little pair of shoes. It made her too sad to get rid of absolutely everything.

If they spray-painted a city wall, what would they write/draw?

Brienne: “the kingslayer is a sister fucker”

Larissa: morticia sux 

Lucifer: Suck it Dad

Phasma: The First Order symbol.

Miranda: She could never. It’s a crime to spray paint on a city wall.

Pick a fictional character from another book/movie to be their guardian angel. Is it hard to look out for your character? Does the guardian angel interact with them? What’s their first conversation like?

Brienne: With Brienne’s choice of career, sometimes it can get a little bit stressful with how close to getting dangerously hurt she has gotten sometimes. Sometimes her guardian angel is biting at their fingernails but is very much aware that Brienne can handle her own, only stepping in when absolutely necessary. 

Larissa: No it’s not hard to look after Larissa. She is a good egg and doesn’t get up to much trouble.

Lucifer: Guardian angel? For a fallen angel? How cute.

Phasma: Phasma? Captain of the Stormtroopers? Yes. Exhausting. The guardian angel wondered multiple times if it’s possible to switch because Phasma was being, well, Captain Phasma. The angel wouldn’t even want to interact with her, she high-key scares them.

Miranda: Sometimes her guardian angel gets concerned with how clumsy she is. Not often does she get into dangerous police work, but seeing as though she was shot, I’m sure Miranda could give them a run for their money.

Do they find fart noises funny? (Be honest.)

Brienne: Sober, no. Drunk, funniest thing in the world.

Larissa: No. Well maybe deep down, but she wouldn’t let you know that.

Lucifer: No.

Phasma: Phasma? Finding anything that other people find funny, funny? That’s funny.

Miranda: PFTTTT, of course. 

They wake up permanently invisible. Do they ask for help right away, or do they stay hidden? What do they do while invisible?

Brienne: After being gawked at her entire life, being invisible would be blissful for Brienne, no one is able to look at her, and no one is able to judge her based on her appearance. She would spend an entire day in peace because no one would be able to stare at her and make rude comments regarding her height or looks.

Larissa: She would try to get help. How the hell is she supposed to run a school under these conditions?

Lucifer: Why would they ask for help? They know perfectly well they don't need anyone's help getting back to normal.

Phasma: She’d go siege an entire planet, killing every single person and no one would know it was her. She’d then (unwillingly) try getting someone's attention and attempt to return back to visible, she can’t command troopers as invisible.

Miranda: She would get into a pinch of mischief beforehand. Nothing criminal, but a little prank never hurt anyone. Probably a prank on her girlfriend or Robin. Then she would immediately try and get help.