#this is also barely proofread

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x plus size reader

warnings: angst, allusions to smut, major body insecurities, troubles orgasming due to said insecurities, eddie is so incredibly sweet, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: this started out as just a little angsty thing cause i was in my feelings, but it quickly spiraled into something more. while i feel a little nervous sharing it because it directly mirrors my own experience with intimacy issues and self esteem, i hope it can maybe help someone who has felt this same way <3

“— just stop, eds. it’s clearly not gonna happen.”

he can hear the disappointment in your voice as you tug his hand out of your panties. willing away the tears that threaten to spill past your lash line.

you swear something’s wrong with you.

he’s been at this for well over an hour, having to take multiple breaks from when his fingers started to cramp up. your clit feels almost raw, yet numb to the touch. the constant circles he was rubbing against it left you with nothing but discomfort.

“sweetheart—” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.

but you quickly bury your face into the pillow, the sheer humiliation makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you already know what he’s going to say, he’s said it more times than you can count.

“save it, please. i don’t want your pity,” your words are slightly muffled, but he hears them loud and clear.

so he stays silent, keeping his chest pressed into your back. he rubs soothing circles over the curve of your hip while you soak his pillow with your tears. each silent shake of your shoulders twists the knife deeper into his gut.

why he hasn’t left is beyond you— anyone else would have.

not only is he stuck with a girlfriend who can’t take her clothes off in front of him, he’s stuck with one who can’t finish either. you can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.

“why are you even still here?” you sniffle, feeling his body stiffen behind you. “this can’t be fun for you.”

he doesn’t answer you, instead moving from his position behind you to roll you onto your back before he slots himself between your thick thighs. and even in the dark of his room you can see how your words have upset him.

“— i’m here because i love you.” he asserts, calloused fingers catching your chin to keep your gaze level with his. “i stay despite how much you continually try to push me away, because you’re everything to me.”

and he catches some more tears that trickle down your cheeks with his thumb. he unintentionally swipes them over your lips and they taste almost bitter on your tongue when you take a shuddering breath in.

“i just.. i feel like this is too good to be true— that you’re too good to be true.” you voice is barely above a whisper now, “that once you see everything… you’ll change your mind.”

his eyes slip shut and an almost painful look crosses over his features.

“baby,” he sighs, carefully taking your hand to guide it up his bare torso. you can feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips, a reminder that you almost lost him not so long ago. “you could grow a third head and sprout a tail and i would love you just the same.”

that image has you giggling softly, the sound causing his eyes to flutter back open. eddie grins down at you, bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“there’s my girl,” he hums.

and despite the worry that still lingers in the back of your head, your body automatically reacts to his gentle words. you shift your hips beneath his own, now acutely aware of how uncomfortable the damp cotton feels against your skin.

eddie can see that spark of need return to your eyes, his head tilting down to nudge your nose with his own. he inhales your soft gasp when he carefully presses his hips down into yours.

“can i try something? if you don’t like it, i promise we can stop.”

he waits before making another move, lips hovering over yours until he hears your soft confirmation. then he starts to descend lower.

his lips press against the cotton of your sleep shirt, across the soft pudge of your belly. and you hold you breath when his fingers graze over the hem of it, slowly beginning to push it up your plush thighs.

“eddie i—”

he must hear the alarm in your voice as he stops, warm eyes gazing up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

the small shake of your head encourages him to continue, pushing the shirt up only until he can see the outline of your panties.

“we’ll keep this on, okay?” he motions to your shirt.

“okay,” you breathe.

you feel your body is on fire, every nerve ending like a live wire. and you practically jolt when you feel his lips press against your damp underwear, his tongue licking a slow stripe between your clothed folds.

“oh,” you sigh and you can feel his deep chuckle rumble against your core.

so he does it again, enjoying the breathy whine that tumbles past your lips. eddie’s fingers slide up your thighs, sneaking underneath the elastic of your underwear as he continues his actions. going slow enough to get you used to the feeling, but firm enough so you feel each drag of his tongue.

after your first failed attempt from earlier you feel ravenous, now bucking your hips up against his mouth. and your boyfriend seems to get the hint.

“you want them off, sweetheart?”

and you nod almost frantically, any feelings of insecurity pushed to the wayside as your desire slams back into you at full force.

not needing to be told again, eddie carefully guides the fabric down your thighs. tossing them next to you on the bed before he coaxes your legs to rest on his shoulders. even in the dark he can see the curly hairs that cover your mound and the sticky strings of desire when he guides your folds apart with his fingers.

you hear a soft curse leave his mouth, his hair tickling your inner thighs when he leans down further to guide his tongue through your slick.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” he coos.

you gasp aloud at the sensation when the muscle delves deeper, dipping inside your entrance before dragging more slick up to your sensitive nub.

everything feels more heightened like this— more intimate. and you swear you’re more in love with him now than you ever been.

so you let your body sink further into the mattress while he tastes you properly for the first time. his own hips rutting against the bed in tandem with each glide of his tongue. the noises he’s making are downright filthy, the vibrations only aiding in bringing you closer to that release.

it’s right within your grasp, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

the edges of your vision start to blur while your fingers card themselves through his curls to hold him in place. and that wave that’s been building up inside you finally crashes over the surface.

your shaky cry of his name has him moaning into you, his hips twitching as he spills into the fabric of his boxers. and he doesn’t mind when your trembling thighs tighten around his head, keeping him locked into place between your hips.

not that eddie would ever complain.

you finally release him when the feeling becomes too much, thighs settling onto the bed when you tug at his curls. he lifts his head then, eyes mirroring your half lidded gaze. his slick-smeared lips shine in the moonlight that streams through his bedroom window and you feel another rush of emotion flow through you.

“thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking.

he brings your knuckles back to his lips, pressing a wet kiss onto each one. satisfied with his work, eddie crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses until he reaches your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer when your mouth do meet.

but that’s when you feel it. the warm, sticky mess that has soaked into his boxers and smeared across his hairy thighs.

“did you just— ?” you ask in almost disbelief, wide eyes meeting his own when he pulls back to give you a cheeky grin.

another gentle roll of his hips has you gasping aloud, the action pressing his mess further into your own as he chuckles deeply.

“damn right, i did.”

[newrochellechallenger2019]

line cook art anon here to say the word!pretty please write a whole blurb

'thank you line cook anon' we all say in unison !! now you may have seen the previous blurb but this is an extra special blurb just for you !!

ash hits the fresh tarmac and fizzles out, a black boot stamping on the spark. 'did he make you go on top too?' drawls a voice, casually, as if discussing the weather.

your brow furrows as you look up from scratching at your nail polish to the only other server outside on their break right now. at your non-answer, she shrugs, 'art. when you slept with him.'

you freeze in surprise, accidentally slicing a strip of nail polish off your thumb and you grimace. 'i didn't sleep with him.' you mutter.

she scoffs, her cigarette smoke clouding the air. 'sure you didn't darling, i see the way you look at him.' you flush red in response. 'you're new right?' and you nod and she steps closer towards you, 'then i'll let you in on a little secret.' you finally look at her, holding her gaze, searching for any malice or teasing but there's just sincerity, closer to concern and it makes your stomach churn. 'the free fries, the lifts home, riding him' she emphasises the last part, raising her well defined eyebrow at you. '...we've all done it. it's what art does.' she flicks her cigarette into the trashcan by the back door and heading back inside.

it's what art does. those four words are ringing through your head throughout the rest of your shift, even when you're getting in art's car for the second time. you're not sure why, it's like you move on autopilot when you see him leaning against his car, his signature smirk on his face as he eyes up like his next meal. art presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before you get in, the smell of cigarettes and musk floating round the car. the drive to his place is silent again, as you battle with whether or not to force him to turn the car around or whether to accept that the best sex of your life means being one of many servers on his roster.

but as art comes round to open the car door, and you catch sight of the scruff of his chin, the way he looks at you like you've hung the stars, how his brawny arm snaked round your waist in a gesture that now feels familiar to you, the words of the older server dissipate from your head and all you can focus on is how good his chapped lips feel against yours.

the minute the door is locked behind him, he's closing you in, tilting your chin up to face him, 'i missed you so much doll' he murmurs, and before you can protest it's been less than 24hrs, he's pressing a quick kiss to your lips and you immediately relax. then another kiss and another and another and another, in between stripping each other of shirts and trousers till you're lying flat on your back on his bed, left in your bra and panties.

art's sucking dark marks on your stomach as his face makes it way down to your cunt, his hands gripping your knees to keep your legs open. 'you wear this for me, huh?' he teases, nosing at the lace on your panties, a sly look on his face but it fades when he notices your expression. 'baby?' his hold on you relaxes slightly and he lifts his face from between your thighs. you chew your lip anxiously, 'do you sleep with the other servers?' you say quietly, voice wobbling slightly.

art blinks at you for a moment, perplexed. 'i did.' he shrugs, 'why?'. you frown, an odd feeling of hurt washing over you, it felt different to hear it from him. swallowing thickly, 'i thought...' his thumb rubs soothing circles on your knee, giving you the confidence to continue, '...i thought i was special.' the words seem to suck all the air out of his bare apartment and you both lie on his bed, frozen and stunned into silence.

after what feels like hours, art starts to slowly press his lips to your thigh, 'baby...' slowly moving higher and higher, 'baby...you are special.' you huff, unconvinced and he chuckles. 'i swear! you're the only girl for me.' he bites at your thigh gently and you gasp, 'art!'. with his imploring gaze, you nearly crumble, 'are you really gonna be mad at me because i've slept with people before you?' and your face twists in thought as you mull it over, art thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. 'i suppose not...' you relent and he grins, fingers hooking into your lacy underwear and pulling it down your legs, 'thank you doll.'

he presses his face to your pussy, inhaling you. his tongue teases your clit and you whimper, before he starts to suck on the sensitive bud and you stifle a growl. he continues to lavish your clit before his tongue starts to lick at your entrance and a shiver runs up your spine as you nod feverishly. art's tongue penetrates your hole, lapping at your gummy walls and you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head. his tongue in your cunt felt so much better than his cock splitting you open before, more intimate, more real, more special.

his face is buried in between your legs, slurping like a starving animal and your moans are getting increasingly louder. gripping his curls, you push his head deeper into your folds and he relishes in it, art's nose brushing your clit and making your stomach flip. 'right there...' you pant, as the tip of his tongue hit the spot inside you that made you see stars. his gravelly laugh in response made your folds vibrate as he plunged his tongue deeper, hitting that spot over and over again. 'art- art-ngh- gonna-' and starts to tonguefuck you even more aggressively as your legs start to shake, 'oh- fuck- i'm- cumming- please-' as your clear liquid spurts out of you, and he laps it up happily, chin soaked with your juices. 'good girl' he praises, kissing your thigh before moving to kneel atop you, and you smile dazily at the compliment, still on your orgasm high.

'you still with me doll?' he murmurs gently as he frees his half-hard cock from his boxers. you nod, 'yeah...please...art.' and he smiles, 'you keep talking to me baby, got it?' 'uh huh' you grunt as he slowly pushes into your soaked cunt, 'so wet for me' he groans as he enters you, feeling your walls clench around his dick. slowly, art starts to shift his hips, his cock moving in and out of your pulsating pussy and you moan at the stimulation, eyes glazed over.

art's hands find your ass, lifting your legs up so the tip of his cock can hit deeper inside you and you gasp, 'oh- shit- mmph-' as he starts to pick up the pace. 'yes- yes- yes- yes-' is all you can garble out over art's huffs and whines, his head thrown back, 'your pussy feels so good like this- ngh- doll'. you nod dumbly, lost in the throngs of pleasure.

teetering on the edge of overstimulation, you start to feel your second orgasm incoming. 'art!' you screech as he fills you to the brim, 'oh god- please-' but before you can let him know your second orgasm hits you like a truck. you're babbling incoherently as your squirt around his cock, the only thing decipherable is his name over and over as clear liquid soaks the sheets. 'oh- fuck- felt you clench there baby-' art grunts before you feel his hot seed spurt into you too as he cums, prolonging your orgasm. he coaches you through it as you shake, 'that's it...so pretty doll...so good for me...' he purrs encouragingly as he watches you come undone.

he puts your legs down and slowly pulls out of you, watching in delight as your hole twitches, a mixture of his and your fluid dripping out. he slides off the bed and gets you a glass of water, stroking your hair as you sip gratefully, 'you're the only one for me doll...i promise' and you smile dopily at that, satisified in more ways than one.

tags: @blastzachilles @s0ftcobra @femme-lusts @glennussy @cha11engers @stanart4clearskin @artstennisracket

[pumpkennpie]

trying to get back into a writing mood, so here's 2.8k of self indulgent landoscar <3

act like you know me- Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 2,809 words, strangers to lovers, kissing a stranger at a bar to get a creepy guy off your back

“Lando. My name is Lando,” the stranger- Lando- says, right before he surges forward and plants a messy, open-mouthed kiss against Oscar’s lips. God, that name sounds familiar to Oscar, but he’s a bit too preoccupied with matching the fervor of Lando’s kisses to try and figure out why. In between sucking on Lando’s tongue and nipping at his bottom lip, Oscar pulls away just enough to say his own name, a breathy little ‘Oscar’, into the minuscule space between them.

[finleycannotdraw]

Goldenheart question. Who do you think proposes? Ballister or Ambrosius?

Bonus on how they would do it? ✌️🌈

OKAY SO. I thought about this for like five minutes. decided something. and then I changed my mind like five times. and then I was like “hmm. fic time”

I know you just asked for my thoughts but I hope you enjoy this!!

Ballister had a plan.

He loved Ambrosius. Of course he did. He’d loved him when they were classmates at the Institute, loved him when they snuck onto the roof at night to talk, loved him when they became knights, and loved him when the wall came down. He’d loved him for as long as he could remember, so of course he loved him when he looked up from his crossword puzzle and saw Ambrosius dancing in the kitchen, wearing a pair of Ballister’s pajama pants, holding a pancake batter-covered spatula and looking more carefree than he’d looked in months.

He’d marry Ambrosius in a heartbeat. He’d get on a train right then and elope with him if he asked, but he thought his partner deserved something bigger, something romantic, something grand and joyful after all of the stress and responsibility he’d been shouldering since the Director’s demise.

Hence, The Plan.

Nimona had been… mostly helpful. Ballister approached her one afternoon, after Ambrosius had left for work, and sat down across from her. Since the three of them had moved into an apartment together, Nimona had gotten much more comfortable relaxing, which warmed Ballister’s heart.

“What’s up, boss?”

“I want to ask Ambrosius—” he began, and Nimona sat up straight, immediately invested.

“To marry you?” she exclaimed. “Yes. Do it. Why haven’t you done it already.”

Ballister blinked. “I thought you’d be more hesitant about this,” he said slowly. “You used to hate him.”

Nimona waved her hand dismissively. “Ehhh. The past is the past, and all that jazz. Speaking of jazz—”

“No.”

“Ugh, whatever. You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I didn’t need to.”

“You’re horrible. Anyway, I hated him when all I knew about him was that he cut off your arm. That was before I’d lived with you guys for a year. And it would be pretty hypocritical of me not to be open to changing my opinions about somebody. He makes you happy. You should totally marry him.”

Ballister smiled. “Thank you, Nimona.”

She scoffed affectionately. “Sure, boss.”

And a plan—namely, The Plan, which was the whole point—formed.

Nimona and Ballister flew all over the city looking for parks and possible activities, such as restaurants or shows. Most people had gotten fairly used to the pair of them flying around, Nimona sprouting wings and carrying Ballister above the streets, so they didn’t worry about staying out of sight.

If Ambrosius noticed or thought it was suspicious that Nimona and Ballister constantly went out together and didn’t talk to him about any of it, he didn’t comment. The three of them still had their movie nights and game nights, and Nimona and Ambrosius still had their terrifyingly intense card games (War, Go Fish, Crazy Eights, and several games Ballister had never heard of) that Ballister was forbidden from joining, so altogether not much had changed.

One thing that did change, though, was how often he paused, watched Ambrosius do something completely ordinary, and thought ‘I want to marry this man.’ It happened more and more with each passing day, until Ballister very nearly proposed to him when he walked into the apartment and found Ambrosius standing with his feet on two separate chairs, about three feet apart, holding a collection of colorful paper streamers above his head while Nimona, in the form of a small monkey, perched on the top of his head and put them in place on the wall.

Ballister stared at them for a long moment before he said, very confusedly: “There wasn’t a more efficient way to do this?”

Ambrosius and Nimona turned at the same time, both looking quite delighted despite their precarious position atop the chairs.

“We’re just mixing it up!” they both replied. Ballister looked around. The living room was covered in party decorations and newspaper, and Ballister thought he’d never seen more glitter in his life. He pictured Ambrosius buying a basket full of glitter for whatever party Nimona was planning on throwing, and wouldn’t have been surprised if his heart actually melted.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“I asked Nimona when her birthday was,” Ambrosius explained. “She said she didn’t have one.”

“And if I do, I don’t remember when it is,” Nimona added. Ambrosius threw his hands out to the sides in an emphasizing gesture.

“Which means she’s never had a birthday party,” he continued. “So we decided that today’s her birthday and we’re having a party.”

“Which is just going to be like a normal night except with decorations,” Nimona said. “The glitter was Goldilocks’ idea.”

Ballister raised his eyebrows, and Ambrosius shrugged unabashedly, then turned back to finish putting up the streamers.

Marry me, Ballister thought.

Within the next week, he had everything figured out. He’d looked at the weather for the next few days, planned where they’d go and when, and had even bought a ring, which he’d hidden in his extra pair of running shoes and shoved under the bed. If Ambrosius noticed that Ballister seemed extra nervous or more likely to become agitated if he spent too long in the bedroom by himself, he didn’t comment.

So yes. Ballister had a plan, and it was much more concrete than ‘something something something, we win’. He didn’t have a script, but he had just about everything else. Nothing could possibly get in his way now.

Or so he thought.

One night—there was nothing particularly special about it; they’d had dinner with Nimona, danced and laughed while cleaning the kitchen, and kissed while getting ready for bed—Ballister and Ambrosius were snuggled up together under their blankets. Ballister’s prosthetic arm was hanging from its charger on the wall, so he couldn’t hold Ambrosius as close as he would’ve liked, but the blond knight was lying with his head on Ballister’s shoulder, which gave him room to wrap his left arm around his partner’s back.

Ambrosius moved to tangle his legs with Ballister’s and gave his middle a squeeze, causing Ballister to smile up at the dark ceiling. If he paid attention, he could hear quiet music through the walls from Nimona’s room, and the moon was shining brightly through the window. Ballister carded his fingers through Ambrosius’ hair and breathed deeply.

Ambrosius, after several minutes, pushed himself up onto his elbow so that he could see Ballister’s face. Ballister’s arm slid naturally to rest around his waist, and he wished he had his prosthetic so that he could tap Ambrosius on the nose. Whenever he did so, Ambrosius’ face would scrunch up in the most adorable way possible, and Ballister had no choice but to kiss him.

“Hey,” Ambrosius whispered, as though Ballister hadn’t already been giving him his full attention.

“Hi,” he said in the same quiet tone, and matched Ambrosius’ answering smile. They bumped their noses together and giggled, and Ambrosius flopped to the side, landing on his own pillow. Ballister freed his arm and laced their fingers together, and Ambrosius brought their joined hands to his lips, then rested them on his chest and stroked Ballister’s hand with his thumb.

“Bal?” he said, tilting his head to the side to look into Ballister’s eyes, which he was quite honestly struggling to keep open.

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?” Ambrosius asked softly, simply, his gaze full of love, exactly the way Ballister had been fighting the urge to ask him for weeks.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, and got out of bed to grab the ring box from his shoe, forgetting that Ambrosius had no idea what he was doing until he sat up, looking worried.

“Bal?” he said again, this time much more guarded. “I’m sorry, what—”

“I was going to propose to you!” Ballister interrupted, opened the box, and shoved it towards his gobsmacked partner, who stared at it in utter shock before looking back to Ballister’s eyes. “I had a plan! And it wasn’t ‘something something something, we win’!”

Ambrosius’ eyes were shiny. “Was it more like, ‘something something something, marry me?’”

Ballister laughed surprisedly and leaned over to plant a kiss on Ambrosius’ lips. “Yes,” he said. “Well, no. I didn’t have a speech.”

“Hence the something-something-something,” Ambrosius teased. “You know, you never answered my—”

“Yes, good Gloreth, yes, I’ll marry you,” Ballister interrupted again. “Though I think you could’ve inferred that from learning that I was going to ask you the same question.”

Ambrosius laughed tearfully, and Ballister kissed him again.

“I’m not taking your last name, though,” he added moments later. “As funny as it is.”

“Nimona would kill you,” Ambrosius agreed. “So would I, probably. I don’t want to keep my last name either. It made for some good jokes, but other than that—”

“Well, Boldheart is nice, but it wasn’t my birth name. You know the Queen gave it to me at the ceremony because somebody—probably the Director—said that Blackheart sounded too dark for a knight?”

“Right,” Ambrosius mused. “What should we do, then?”

“We could combine our last names,” Ballister suggested. “We could be Ambrosius and Ballister—”

“Goldenheart,” Ambrosius finished, and wrapped his arms around Ballister, shaking with laughter, tears, and joy. “I love it.”

“I love you,” Ballister told him, and there was very little talking for the rest of the night.

When morning came, they headed into the kitchen in their pajamas and found Nimona already up, sitting at the table with her headphones on. She appeared to be drawing—likely another action scene with herself as a large animal with Ballister and/or Ambrosius as her murderous accomplice—and didn’t look up as they entered.

“Morning, Nim,” Ambrosius said as he made his way to the coffee machine.

“Goldilocks.” She acknowledged him with a nod, then raised her eyebrows. “Sleep well?”

Ballister held his crossword puzzle up and hid his face behind it while Ambrosius nearly dropped the coffee pot. They both knew that Nimona was over a thousand years old and there was probably very little she hadn’t seen, and even less she wasn’t aware of, but she was so good at acting like a teenager that it was quite easy to forget. She watched their awkward reactions and snickered, but her eyes widened as her attention zeroed in on something on or beside Ambrosius’ hand.

“So, who snapped first?” she asked pleasantly, a wide grin forming on her face.

“Me,” Ambrosius admitted without turning around. “Wait. Who snapped first? You knew he was planning—”

“You knew he was—” Ballister began too, and they both stopped and stared at each other.

Nimona just burst out laughing.

[milomelts]

Note: First post 😳😳😳 Sorry if this is bad yall i literally havent written for like 3 years and its proofread by me myself and I but inspired by Angel ep 2x9 angel goes undercover and you walking in on a meeting with demons

Pairing: Angel x Reader

Request: Nopee

Gender: Hopefully neutral 🤞 (lemme know if i fucked up)

Warnings: 18+, some biting and blood but nothing crazy just like vampires u know 🥴

———————————

A yawn broke your daze as you glance over at Wesley turning the page to some demon grimore, hand covering his mouth as he glances at Cordy filing her nails instead of the papers in front of her. This awful torture had lasted all morning and well into the afternoon, research and books and files and guess what? Even more research!!

Groaning you slam your book closed, folding your arms on top of it and laying your head down on them as you mumble out a string of profanities and grievances to no one in particular.

“Got anything?” Wesley grumbles closing his own book and pushing it aside in favor of his now cold cup of tea.

“Just a headache,” you whine. You guys were trying to find out what powers were being held inside an amulet the demon of the week was wearing. It had given him enough strength to take out you, Gunn, and Wesley, he probably would have killed you all if Cordy didn’t have a vision leading Angel to drive by and pick you up. So now he was out scouting for the demons while the research led to dead end after dead end.

“I think I might go for a walk, maybe get us coffee,” you headed towards the doors grabbing your pager off the charging dock and shrugging on your jacket.

“Oo yes! Coffee sounds perfect!” Cordelia perked up, looking at Wesley who nodded in agreement. “Two mochas please!”

You move to open the front door when everyone’s pagers go off, glancing down you all read the message from Angel. It’s a location and the name of the amulet you’ve been searching for information on.

“We can finally focus our research! This is great, Cordelia can you-“ Wesley glances over at you looking at the pager and then meeting your eyes, he instantly knew. “Y/n don’t-“

You smile, running out the front door before he got the chance to tell you not to rush in head first. You were tired of the research, it was time to meet up with Angel.

By the time you reached the location it was nightfall. There was a hidden door in the alley between a nightclub and a liquor store, a brick wall amongst the cobblestone one, and when you knocked three times it slid open. Almost too easy.

As you walked through the door slide closed behind you and various half-burned candles were illuminating the staircase you descended. Looking around the small room you see 5 demons sitting around a table, one by one looking up at you.

Perhaps you had made a slight mistake.

“Look what we have here boys,” One of them begins to say, you glance over at them and see the amulet hanging around their neck. At least you were at the right place?

The demons all move to lunge at you, but before they get the chance the one sitting closest to you stands, chair shrieking as it scraps across the floor.

“This one’s mine,” He’s at your side before you can even blink. Angel. You open your mouth to say something but his eyes warn you not to as his face contorts into its vampiric appearance and he smiles, making a big show for the audience behind you. “Scream for us now.”

You feel his teeth before you even register them pricking into your neck, body paralyzed in fear as Angel moans at the taste of your blood on his tongue. Your eyes fill with tears as your body goes cold, the demons behind you grinning as they cheer him on, yet you can’t hear a sound. It’s almost pleasant to feel it all slip away, as Angel holds you in his arms, withdrawing his teeth as he gently guides you to the floor.

“Stay here, pretend to be dead please.” His voice is a stark contrast to the one he was putting on before as he turns back the demons.

Everything after is a haze, you remember seeing him tear the amulet from the first guy and putting it on himself, before turning to slay the rest of the demons. You can feel his arms wrap around you as he pulls you against his chest, whispering apologies and sweet words as he carries you through the night back to the motel.

You wake up to a train passing by, the horn blaring you from the warm comfort of sleep into the cold of night. Your hand finds its way to your neck, gently gliding over the mark left by Angel’s teeth as your memories flood back to you. Sitting up, you quickly slid out of bed and down the hall, your hands gliding along the walls and wooden doors. You had to see him, see Angel.

213, 215, 217.

You twist the knob, finding the door unlocked as you open it. Angel is sitting in his chair in the corner, turning from looking at the window to you as you close the door behind you. You both go to speak at the same time, saying each other’s name, and he motions for you to go first.

“Angel, I-“ you don’t even know what to say. Thank you? It’s okay? I’m sorry?

“I know,” he moves from his spot by the window over to you, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you to sit with him on the foot of the bed.

His hand trails up to your neck, brushing his fingers along the marks, closing his eyes and leaning his head against yours.

“Do you wanna do it again,” your voice is soft and it snaps him out of his trance as he just looks at you mouth agape, eyes flitting between back and forth between yours. “I want you to, if you want to, but if you don’t I understand-“

His fangs cut you off as they sink into your neck again. That pleasurable pinch of teeth against skin as he laps at the blood that pools there. It’s more gentle this time, more angelic, he rubs soothing circles on your shoulder and pulls back after such a short taste.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, just the faintest whisper as his lips hover near yours. Cradling his face with your hand, your bring your thumb up to his lips swiping away the remains of your blood that stained the corners of his mouth.

It’s as if your on autopilot as he opens his mouth slightly to capture your thumb, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucks and swirls his tongue around it. When you pull your thumb free, there’s just a brief moment where the world stops turning. The air is still and you can both hear your heartbeat. Once. Twice.

His lips are on yours as it skips the next beat, hands tugging at your sides as he pulls you to straddle him. You gasp at the sudden movement letting him take control of the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and moaning as you entangle with one another. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him as his kisses trail down your cheek and neck, bruising a path leading to his bite.

You both know it can’t go further, that it’s already gone too far, but neither can let go as he pulls you in to another intoxicating kiss. You rock your hips against him, feeling his hard on pressing against your sweet spot as you continue to roll your hips and moan into his mouth. He responds with the same urgency, hands tugging at your waist as he grinds up into you, soft moans escaping from his lips.

“Angel,” your voice is a broken whimper as you continue to press into him, trying to get as close as you possibly can. You feel his body shake and writhe the way yours does as you desperately grind against one another. “Please.”

Your not even sure what you’re asking for, but he takes it as an invitation to bite down on your neck once more and he pulls you down against him, rutting up into you as he openly moans and whines against your neck, desperately sucking and biting at whatever he can find. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck and tangle in his hair pulling his head back as you both see stars, lazily falling back onto the bed and panting against one another.

“You’re not gonna go all crazy town on me now right?” Although you’re mostly joking there’s a hint of concern lacing your words as you pull back gently to look Angel in the eyes.

“I guess since my dick stayed in my pants we’re good,” he pants out, smiling down at you before his face contorts into one of concern.

You sit up, hand pressed against his chest as he continues to stare at you, “What is it you’re scaring me.”

“I fear Cordy and Wesley might think the opposite.” He gestures to the small mirror on the desk across from his bed and you rush over to it, catching your reflection your eyes go wide at the state of your neck. It almost looks like a rabid dog attacked you the way it’s covered in bite marks and bruises, no amount of make up would be able to cover this up.

Turning back around to him you offer a small smile and bite at your lower lip trying to think of a solution before an idea pops into your head and your smile turns into a grin. “I hear turtle necks are in right now!”

[ps-cactus]

HO 🎄HO ☃️ HO 🎁 it's your Secret Santa in town🎅🤶🔔🎶 coming down your chimney with questions about your MC ⬇️⬇️⬇️

I'm so excited to learn more about Alyn! I just got started on one of your fics but I'm dying to know what the dynamics are between Alyn and Ominis?? What do they do when they spend time together? Who's the more affectionate one? Do they argue a lot? Who apologizes first? I would love to know if you don't mind sharing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hellooo! Thank you for reading 🥹💖 and for the questions, Santa! 💖✨ HERE COMES THE BIG POST! ~800 words👇🏻

To not make it extremely big I marked with * places where there are some extra headcanons behind the statement and I can elaborate additionally if needed.

Amberlyn x Ominis

⋆˚⋆⌜ Dynamics ⌟⋆˚⋆

The only one who'd understand. Recognition of each other's complexities. Mutual respect. Quiet support. Nevertheless, push and pull of varying intensity. Something from their Pinterest board:

Their bond unfolds slowly, built on trust (since Scriptorium, Alyn always sided with Ominis*) and, much later, subtle expressions of affection. They find common ground in shared struggles (family issues among them*) and the guilt and grief lingering after the events of the fifth year.

Alyn has a knack for finding the right words to soften Ominis' sharp edges and gently coax him into vulnerability. Though both are reserved in their own ways, they provide each other a sense of safety and understanding. (exceptions in Conflicts below)

Alyn is more open with affection—small, casual touches like brushing her hand against his (or her knee against his, because yes, she would; she’s, lost, traumatised and overcaffeinated teen). She completes his notes sometimes, drawing schemes from the board for him, describes things that catch her attention in and out of the class—all this happens naturally and easily.

Ominis is more reserved but deeply enjoys her presence and is grateful for her small gestures of help and appreciation. At first, he starts to subconsciously lean just a little closer than necessary during conversations. Over months time, he becomes braver about returning her gestures—a hand brushing hers deliberately, his voice softens noticeably when he speaks to her.

⋆˚⋆⌜ Time together ⌟⋆˚⋆

✨Studying: Since around the end of the fifth year, they often sit together at classes, at the library, or meet in common areas of the castle. Ominis becomes attuned to Alyn's steps, her scent, her presence. He’s startled to realise one day the sound of her voice reading aloud calms him.

✨Spells and Dueling Practice: Ominis’ magic is powerful, and his wand never misses. Alyn learns new spells quickly, and is excellent in explaining. Their training sessions are focused yet competitive and somewhat playful, filled with mutual encouragement and a bit of teasing. Alyn would brush the dust from a shattered dummy off his shoulder, and Ominis, whether he admitted it or not, would think that if the entire castle crumbled into dust around him, he wouldn’t mind—as long as it meant she’d be this close again, brushing it away with her hand.

✨Walks: Both enjoy long walks through the castle or by Black Lake. In the sixth year, they always visit Hogsmeade together. Sometimes they are just walking or sitting in silence. They don't normally talk in big emotional outbursts but instead share small, meaningful pieces of themselves over time.

⋆˚⋆⌜ Conflicts ⌟⋆˚⋆

They feel connection because they understand each other’s pain and offer emotional safety, but that very depth makes them vulnerable to fear, mistakes, and misunderstandings.

⚡️Curiosity vs protectiveness: Alyn is still new to the magical world. It makes her eager to learn everything—seemingly dangerous or not—out of wonder, fascination, and a desire to understand and catch up. Ominis, however, sees such curiosity as naivety and feels an urge to protect her, especially from anything risky. Alyn grows frustrated when she feels he’s infantilising her.

✨ Resolution: Alyn may prove her curiosity is tempered by caution, reassuring Ominis that she won’t put herself recklessly in harm’s way. Ominis, in turn, may learn to trust her judgment while remaining a protective figure she can rely on.

⚡️Miscommunication: Both Ominis and Alyn struggle with communication. Ominis often needs time alone to process his thoughts, but Alyn interprets his silence as distance or blame and tries to pull him out of it. If she doesn't succeed, she can rapidly go to 'Oh, it's now me not talking to you.'

✨ Resolution: They need to compromise—Alyn has to learns to give Ominis the time he needs, trusting that he will come back to her. Ominis, in turn, has to learn to communicate when he needs space instead of leaving her guessing.

⚡️SeBaStIaN isn’t even at school during their sixth year. But, whenever he’s brought up, Ominis subtly redirects or shuts the topic down, even though he's not as mad at him as he used to be and still considers him a friend. Among other feelings, Ominis is unsettled by the thought of Alyn reconnecting with Sebastian and leaving him behind. Again. His worry isn’t just jealousy (though it is that too). He fears Sebastian might pull her into something dark and dangerous. Again.

Ominis might: a) Withdraw—not to punish Alyn, but to protect himself emotionally. b) Overcompensate—offer her small gestures of affection, lingering touches, or closeness during homework sessions as a subconscious reassurance of their bond. c) Act stupid and say something he'll regret.

Alyn, in turn, gets irritated by his lack of trust, and such an attack on her judgment.

✨ Resolution: Alyn may reassure Ominis that she was never anything more than friends with Sebastian, and that she’s not under anyone’s influence. Ominis needs to learn to differentiate between jealousy and genuine worry and to communicate his fears in a healthier way.

⋆˚⋆⌜ Apologies ⌟⋆˚⋆

Ominis apologises after angry outbursts, guilt-ridden over losing control—something he fears makes him like his family. His apologies are slow and a bit awkward but deeply sincere. Alyn, on the other hand, apologises gently when she feels she’s misunderstood his intentions or pushed too hard.

Some of these 👆🏻bring them to this 👇🏻

⋆ Christmas 1891 ⋆

...and the aftermath. The second half of the sixth year.

Extra overcompensating for his insecurities while being not entirely sober, Ominis actually kissed Alyn. It happened after an argument following the Christmas party, but as Christmas magic would have it, that time both sides felt heard and satisfied. Eventually, they found themselves sitting together on the windowsill, sharing a quiet conversation. Aaand the first kiss happened.

Afterwards, Ominis apologised so many times they almost had another argument. Alyn reassured him that he didn’t need to apologise—that she didn’t mind them trying this new relationship. But of course, they have to make sure no one finds out.

And here the 'Shades' story begins

[ Thank you for reading all this! Now the little side note and rambling (sobbing on the floor) I don't think I actually succeeded at writing their friends to lovers trope in 'Darkness' I wasn't ever even going to post it and it shows. Well, anyway, I figured I'm rather more interested in writing adventure/action and seasoning it with romance than the other way around. That's what I'm trying to do better in 'Shades'. At the same time, now I have clearer understanding of how to deepen and write their relationship and again, it will all be covered in 'Shades' . You are very welcome to read 🤍]

[navree]

GLADLY, RUINATION

Jayce leans forward and presses a kiss to Viktor's hand. Leans forward more so that he can tuck his face against Viktor's neck, leaves his mouth ghosting along his throat. Viktor sighs, tips his head back just a touch, brings a hand up to card through Jayce's hair. After so long in that pit, after nothing but sharp edged rock and loneliness, Viktor's hands on him feel like a miracle. Day Six - Domestic.

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Pairing(s): Jayce/Viktor (League of Legends) Words: 1,697 Chapters: 1/1

[cryptidfuckery]

Alex's Guide to Being the Best Ever Client at a Hair Salon

Hi my name is Alex and I've been a hairdresser for about 6 years now. Obviously over that time I've come to learn what things clients do that make me very happy to see, so here's some tips on how to be the best ever client and make your hairdresser love you to pieces!

Also please note that this is coming from a relatively independent hair stylist. My salon does not have a receptionist or assistants, just the stylists. All tips should work across most salons though.

BOOKING AND CONSULTATIONS

When calling or otherwise directly messaging a salon or stylist to book an appointment, KNOW WHEN YOU WANT TO COME IN. If you need to check your schedule, do it before or have it open before you make the call. This will speed up the booking process exponentially!

DON'T BOOK A SMALLER COLOR RPOCESS JUST TO GET IN. If you're booking online, do not choose a color process with less time just to fit in to the stylist's schedule if you actually want a longer process. By this i mean not booking a partial highlight when you actually want a full. We will not be able to accommodate you, and will either have to leave you with the shorter process or reschedule you on another day when we would actually have the time to deliver what you want.

UNDERSTAND THEIR CANCELLATION POLICY. I know they can be annoying, but let me put it this way. When you are booking with a stylist, you're not booking a service, you're booking our TIME so we can provide the service you want. If you cancel last minute or no-show, you are costing us money that we could have made back by booking other clients. Especially on big ticket services that take hours. Cancellation policies allow us to y'know... still make rent.

YOU DON'T NEED TO KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT... BUT... Part of a stylist's job is to ask the right questions to figure out exactly what you want out of your color, style, or texture. If you don't know exactly what you want, BE READY TO ANSWER QUESTIONS AND MAKE DECISIONS. We are trying to get on the same page as you so you will leave happy.

If you are coming in for a color that is more work than just an all over color or root touch up (aka single process), please do a tiny bit of research into what you'd like. You don't need to know EVERYTHING, but for reference showing a search for "BRUNETTE WITH HIGHLIGHTS" isn't going to narrow it down as much as a search for "DARK BRUNETTE WITH NATURAL WARM HIGHLIGHTS" would. A good stylist should be able to ask the right questions to get down to what you want, but this will make it much easier and quicker.

On that note, DEAR FUCKING LORD WE LOVE PICTURES, SHOW US PICTURES. BRING US YOUR PINTREST BOARD. SHOW US THAT TIKTOK YOU SAW. It's one sure fire way for us to physically see what you're talking about, and a good starting point to then ask qualifying questions with a reference! It doesn't mean we can 100% make it happen, but it helps us get on the same page you're on and see what you're looking to achieve.

Last but not least, research your stylists! Check what they specialize in, see if you can find any of their work posted online. Finding a stylist can sometimes be like finding a therapist, you have to find the one that's right for you (both in personality and technique). Don't feel bad about switching stylists; if your old one kicks a fuss they weren't the right one for you anyway. You deserve to be taken care of by a person you're comfortable with, and who delivers the service you want to your standards.

The hair industry is. Fucking huge. There's so many of us. You can literally call and book a consultation for a cut or color without getting it done that day. You can do that at 5 different salons before deciding. If they get weird about it just say you had a bad experience with an old stylist that you'd rather not get into. There is always options for another stylist.

BEST BEHAVIOR IN THE CHAIR

#1 thing i wish i could tell my clients without being rude: phone goes away for the haircut. Color is more lax, we don't always need your head in a specific position to apply it. Hair cutting completely relies on the position of the head, especially for the perimeter length of your hair. If you are looking down at your phone the whole time, the haircut will not come out as good. We also will be asking you to move to other positions, so we need at least some of your attention. It's also so we as hair stylists aren't having to contort our body into weirder shapes to cut your hair.

To piggyback off that, it's also because of the cape. Best client thing to do is once that cape is on you, make sure it's draped fully over the arms of the chair you're in. We'll take care of the back. The cape is there to protect you from getting hair or color on yourself, but it can't work unless you are completely covered by the cape. Including arms. (I'm looking at the fucking phone again >:( )

When you are in the sink, your nose should be pointing toward the ceiling while you are being washed. This allows us to not drench your face or neck when we are washing your hairline around your face. If your nose isn't pointing toward the ceiling, ask if you are able to readjust.

Best ever tip for in the sink: if the stylist is lifting your head up to rinse the nape of your neck, do not lift your whole neck. Crane your head forward while keeping the base of your neck secure to the sink. This will help you avoid getting water down your back. Your stylist might cup their hand at your nape, just lean back into it like you were a rag doll. We don't want to get you wet, but you gotta trust us with your head at the sink.

If you wanna get an A+ as a client, watch how they fix the chair at the sink for you to get in. The clients that put their own feet up or adjust themself to the right position (after an appointment or two with them) are my loves. my life. yes babe make yourself comfortable, you're doin my job for me.

If you are looking for extra styling past a blowdry (IE: curling iron or flat iron), let us know at the beginning of the service. This can take more time or is an extra charge, so letting us know in advance can allow us to communicate that to you or make sure we have the time to provide the service you want.

And probably my best tip/hack for all my introverted or neurodivergent people nervous about having to keep up small talk. Before or after the consultation, when they inevitably ask how you are or how your day has been, repeat after me: "I've had a really long day/week and I'm looking forward to closing my eyes, relaxing, and being pampered." This will signify that YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK other than what needs to be communicated. If they press, just say work or school has been really hard and stressing you out, so you booked this to relax and have some personal quiet time. Heavy on the relax people. Then just fuckin vibe bro.

If we ever give you our number to text, ask if we cant coffee. Ouughhghgh give us a coffe we love a fucking coffefee. Or ask your stylist what their favorite treat is. Just lil things like that. It's like an extra tip for us!

FINISHING AND PAYING

So your service is done! Make sure you check it out yourself and ask for any adjustments. Remember, you're the one leaving with your hair on your head, and will have to live with it until you return to the salon. If you need something fixed or adjusted, ask! A good stylist will prompt you.

Ask how tips are accepted. You can do it during the service or at checkout, but asking is always appreciated! Not all salons allow you to tip on card, but cash will never be turned away. Venmo is also extremely common.

I work in the USA where a 20% tip is the norm. If you can't afford that, don't worry. If you can't tip at all, don't worry. We don't know you financial situation, and we are in no place to judge that. You still deserve to get the service you want. More often than not if you talk to us about it, we will absolutely be sympathetic. If your stylist kicks a fuss about a tip they get (or don't get), drop them and find someone else.

That being said... yes we like it when you tip more than 20%. Of course we do, it's more money directly to us for doing our job. But I'll be honest with you, I will go out of my way for a kind client i get along with that tips 5% the same way I'll go out of my way for a difficult client who tips 100%.

If you like us, rebook! By having an appointment already in the system you're guaranteeing a time for you to get back in. And if you can't make it, you can cancel it or reschedule. It will help your stylist's rebooking data, which can help them within the salon depending how the business is set up. Sometimes stylists have to reach a certain percentage threshold of rebooking to move up a level of prices or get a higher percentage of commission.

Last but not least, if you're chatting with your stylist after the service, be aware of two things. 1) do they have their next client waiting for them? 2) are you their last client? If either of these are true, try not to linger. We hate having to do the "Well, I've gotta get to my next client/start cleaning up to go home." This can change as you form a deeper relationship with your stylist over the years (sometimes even a friendship!), but please remember that we are at our job.

As of right now that's all I can think of. If I come up with anything else I'll reblog and add on. And please feel free to shoot me an ask if you have a question I didn't answer here, or want to know more about something I mentioned.

But finally I will leave you with this.

Yes, the hair stylist is the expert in hair. Yes, we can give you advice about your style. But here's the thing. When you walk out of the salon door, we aren't the one's dealing with your hair day to day. Even if you don't think you know a lot about hair, YOU ARE THE EXPERT ON THE HAIR ON YOUR HEAD. YOU are the expert on what you do and don't want to look like. We're the tool to get it done. Remember that!

[dr-docktor]

About Floppy Disk Curt... So, do you have some more plot made for this au? Sorry if you made a post and I missed it, I just mean - how does Owen realize that Curt is (semi) sentient? What does he do? How sentient is Curt, actually? What does he remember? And how much can he feel? Does their codependence get worse?

HAHAHA I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED. I sort of expanded on some of the lore in some previous asks but none of it is super organized so I can go over it real quick! I'm still developing a lot of it so if things don't make a ton of sense, I'm working on fixing that lol. First off, I sort of shifted the time period around to be closer to the 90's to better fit the technology, aesthetics, and the rise in popularity of mascot-y desktop assistants.

Owen kills Curt during the staircase scene and despite what he tells himself and his coworkers. He regrets it. He regrets it so god damned much. There's no one to feel so strongly about anymore, whether it be love or seething hatred. He just feels empty.

Meanwhile, Chimera retrieved Curt's corpse and uploaded his consciousness into a computer with the hopes of getting what little he knows about the inner workings of A.S.S. out of him. (don't ask how this is possible, uhhhh silly sci-fi shenanigans I guess)

Of course, he's not cooperative. So Chimera opts to do the totally sane and not evil thing by separating himself from his memories of being human. His ambitions, his relationships, everything except for what Chimera needs. They can't seem to find a way to outright delete the memories for good (I'll probably either rework this part or figure out why they can't outright delete them) but what they can do is try and build up walls of restrictions to prevent him from accessing them. So for a a little while he's just this blank slate spitting out what little information he knows about A.S.S. Mostly useless.

Until Chimera gets an idea.

With the rise of a new trend comes the opportunity for PROFIT. This one being the rise of household computers and mascot-y desktop assistants to help the average user learn how to use a computer.

But Chimera wants to take it a step further. They are the future, after all. They want a desk top assistant that's incredibly life-like. Something that the user can have a genuine conversation with (like an incredibly early chatbot). This project is also absolutely meant to be spy-ware. 1000%. No way its not.

They call the project the 'Beta Anatomy Simulacrum Technology for Research and Development'. Or B.A.S.T.R.D for short! (I had to STRETCH to make that acronym work lmao)

Rather than start this from scratch, the project head (The name I'm going with right now is Harper Royale) has the brilliant thought of "well, what's more life-like than an actual human consciousness in a computer that we have collecting dust somewhere in the tech labs? It's already a husk we just add some code to it and bam it's ready!"

So they take the empty husk of digital curt mega and fix it up a little. Royale thinks its a good idea to give a miniscule amount of his humanity back to him. Namely curiosity (so he can learn things) and a basic understanding of how to have a functional conversation with people. Nearly everything else, like the cheery personality and character model, is all added in by the developers.

The good news is the projects going great! Employees within Chimera are finding the little guy really helpful and entertaining. Employees nickname him DC as a reference to his knowledge on A.S.S. Like their own personal informant inside DC (as in the capital of the us where a lot of government buildings and information is stored)

The bad news? Curiosity. Because now he wants to know why the sad looking British guy from one of the first few rounds of test trials keeps calling him Curt.

Tt spirals into this terrible loop of DC starting to put stuff together, never quite reaching the conclusion that he was a living person once (much less the importance of one Owen Carvour) before the employees catch on to what he's doing and reset him from square one. Over and Over and Over again. The only frame of reference that DC has are these hidden notes he leaves himself during each loop.

Eventually the higher-ups at Chimera realize that the cost of having to go through the complicated process of resetting DC the moment they figure out that he's gained a little sentience and then run through test trials AGAIN simply outweighs the potential profit. So they move to shut down the project, much to Royale's dismay.

The higher-ups joke that Carvour should be the one to do the honors, given everything between him and Curt. And he's like "ok yeah I'll do it" and they're like "we were joking but you've given us zero reason to doubt you so have fun killing the simulacrum of your former closest friend, bestie"

Owen, of course, decides to go behind everyone's backs and download the one and only existing copy of the B.A.S.T.R.D program onto his personal computer. At this point, Owen has no clue about DC slowly regaining his sentience if left unchecked and literally only did it because he has problems about processing the fact that he killed Curt that he refuses to confront. (what a normal guy)

So slowly, having been freed from this loop of resets, DC slowly begins to put together the pieces. He doesn't know how exactly Owen may or may not be involved in any of this, but he keeps most of this growing autonomy a secret for safety reasons. Just in case Owen is decidedly someone not to be trusted and turns him in.

DC, however, will test still the waters by subtly bringing up memories that he knows are somehow important to either him or Owen and then gauging his reaction. Doing his damn best to put together context clues.

Admittedly I don't have anything beyond this yet. I'm still working on Owen's reactions to all of this and also how the technology works. But I hope this answers at least some of your questions!

[thasorns-moved]

I cannot shake my thoughts about this and I’ll know I’ll keep this drama close to my heart. The fact that Myung ha’s ‘sunbae’ opened the riff to the world with the question “would you change it for me?” Also the fact that Myung ha’s alternate universe/game world started with the sound of an ocean tells already a lot about it but we won’t know until Episode 8 why. Throughout the series we watched Myung ha doing everything in his power to make Yeo woon happy while he himself couldn’t rely, couldn’t trust, couldn’t open himself up to him. We know the phrase of his ex gf “you don’t know how to love anyone.” left a deep scar in his soul which he carried with to the alternate universe/game. I try to think the system errors which occurred during the game was a way to change Myung ha’s mindset to not make the same mistakes and/or go on with his habitual habits he did in his life before he drowned himself. Also the different tasks was it actually for Myung ha to realize that he’s the one who makes Yeo-woon happy (which he didn’t). He retreated himself from Yeo woon because he couldn’t choose between the most important persons in his life as we saw his grandma died in real life which makes me think if he also knew that because in one sequence in the game/au it asked him if he wants to bring back some memories of Myung ha’s life. Also the last I love you from Yeo woon was the cherry on top to let the system completely crash where he distanced himself from Yeo woon. “I want to spend my remaining time making Yeo woon happy as best as I can. But it seems the more I try, the more unhappy I make Yeo-woon.” Which Myung ha remembers what Yeo-woon said: “whenever I see you, I both feel good and want to cry. I feel so much about every little thing. But I’m not happy at all right now.” Which again I try to think it is about why Myung ha doesn’t rely more on him? Why he doesn’t open himself up to him? A relationship is based off of trust, give and take… etc. but Myung ha goes into this relationship with deep rooted traumas which causes lack of self love. If one loves not itself enough how can they expect to love someone else which what explains Myung ha’s last phrase in the same scene so much. “Why did I think I could make you happy?” It’s as if he doesn’t think that a loner like him could be the one to give him love and happiness. What follows after is that he choses Yeo woon’s happiness even if he’s not his happiness… which again brings me to the beginning where Myung ha thinks “but I prefer lonely supporting characters to happy protagonists.” In this case he’s the lonely supporting character to our happy protagonist Yeo-woon. “But being fated to live that kind of life… is just so unfair.” He knew/knows how cruel life can be so he chose his happiness over everything and got vanished from the game. He realized by now that Yeo-woon is/was more important than he wanted to admit. Yeo-woon is/was a glimpse of happiness in Myung ha’s life. What brings us to the tragic backstory of his life and how he lived. All the obstacles he endured and went through led to his drowning (at this point we saw Yeo-woon’s obstacles in the alternate universe/game at least in my opinion). This is the turning point for Myung ha. “I was hoping if you saw yourself from someone else’s perspective, you would learnt to love yourself. I thought if you learned to love someone, you would be a little happier.” I want to make a reference here to the title itself “Love for Love’s sake” because all the sacrifices he did and cared more for others than himself… but he found happiness. In Yeo-woon. And he chose his own happiness for once. It’s the way he chooses all these things for himself, to open himself up for him, to rely and be cared for. “It would be nice to have someone. Someone who cares by my side. Someone who gives me chances when I fail and feel hopeless. It would be nice to have someone who always gives me love.” Which they found both in each other.

[eruditic-akechi]

slowly sliding a little paper slip through the slot of the door to your ask box (it is my desperately pleas to hear your daindottir thoughts & opinions. any and all. how did they meet. what is their dynamic. what the fuck did Rhine do to make this man borderline homicidal towards her son. DETAILS PLLLEADE!!!!!)

this is a can of worms that is being opened as we speak I AM SO INSANE ABOUT THEM literally my 6k fic is about them GRAWHHHHHHHH I'm gonna be referencing that a lot because I like it and yeah j;fdaklssjfsafhiojgojgjgijodsgkgfosdkfdfjkewaleroigjorijg

ALSO WARNING YALL NOW THAT I HAVE BEEN PICKING AWAY AT THIS FOR OVER A MONTN (update many months :/)NOW AND SOME LORE BOMBS MAY CONTRADICT MY CANON BUT I AM NOT GOING THROEHH TO FIX THIS RN IDC IDC IDC!!!!!

they first met very young, but it was just a random chance encounter. Rhine, being a child prodigy with alchemy, was sitting on the ground and mixing things together to see what happens. Dainsleif made the fatal mistake of asking someone with ADHD what they are doing, so he listened to her explain as she mixed everything together to make a flower sprout from her hand (like Albedo's character story fjfjdsfhjs). She gave it to him, and he almost got in trouble later because his mom thought he went to the surface while playing😭.

As for when they like,,, met fr fr, I'm making the executive decision to say that Rhinedottir was, to some extent, state-ordained when it came to alchemy. I don't care that perry hairy says that more emphasis was on mechanical shit during her time; she's built different enough that she was probably the exception because if anyone made Khaenri'ah food independent, it would be her. So, one of Dain's baby knight-in-training duties was to make sure she didn't kill herself or others in her pursuits (and other people interested in alchemy were MAD mad about her getting special privileges and recognition so he made sure she left the lab and got home in one piece). Unfortunately, the propaganda and rumors started EARLY, to the point that the whole ass adult knights of the royal guard were too scared to fully show Dain where her lab was. A literal like,,, 15-year-old had them in such a tizzy that they were like, "Uhhh yeah... if you go straight a little longer, it's the first door on the right. Bye now!" So this lil 13-year-old boy was scared shitless, thinking he was going to have to interact with an antisocial monster... just for it to be a pretty girl who may sound like a crazed scientist with the way she talks about alchemy but is otherwise reserved and kind. (And lonely enough that she was excited that she had someone by her side) He really didn't understand why mages and sages AND KNIGHTS were so wary of her.

They hit it off fairly quickly. He looked at her as if she were a normal person and he let her talk about her work. He was patient with her, and cared about her wellbeing. He was her first friend. After getting through a thick layer of apprehension, she was sweet and funny. And she was interesting. So very interesting. (also, between her being an early bloomer and dressing/acting like she was a few years older... she was a pleasing sight in his pubescent eyes😔 it didn't help that she was also considerably taller than him for a good while... his eyes were at the perfect height if ya catch my drift) Their friendship came to be so naturally that they didn't even realize how close they had gotten over time. Dain was eventually assigned actual duties, but he still made sure she got home safe, and spent most of his breaks in her lab. Some nosy neighbors claim that they stopped seeing him walk back after dropping her off,,, not that they'd ever admit to that.

Dainsleif caught feelings very early on. It started as purely physical attraction, but the more he got to know her, the more he was drawn in. ESPECIALLY after she started trusting him more than anyone else, seeking him out for comfort, and indicating that she misses him if he has to be gone for periods of time. Alas, Rhinedottir seems content with the current state of their relationship, so he doesn't confess out of fear of scaring her off.

LITTLE DOES HE KNOW she's also whipped, even if it did take considerably longer. She'd never say anything because she thinks she fell for basic human decency, and she'll never admit it, but she's scared of finding out that she finds people more important than they find her... maybe he's just being nice, and here she thinks she has a chance. So, she keeps quiet as well, even as these newfound feelings make her feel like the little girl she was never allowed to be. She has such a schoolgirl crush on him, quite literally giggling, swooning, and kicking her feet as she smiles into her pillow on the nights she does end up alone because she'd never let anyone actually see her like this. It's obvious to literally everyone but them that they love each other. Anyone can see the way his gaze softens when it lands on her, and literally who else is allowed in her lab unannounced and faces no consequences? At some point, she meets her only other friend, Alice, and all of these things are the most obvious to her. She wants to strangle them both for being oblivious. Alice is the #1 wingman, but it flops every time 😭😭she literally gave homeboy some of the flowers she brought for Rhine to study for the sole purpose of giving him a way to be romantic, but they both became too awkward.

After multiple years of friendship growing into a very thinly veiled romance, they became friends with benefits, which made things easier for them because they could put off the big scary feelings talk a while longer. But Alice flipped a lid after seeing marks on Rhine's neck because she thought they finally confessed, but noooo, of course, they only skirted around the issue. Then she tried to pry details out of Rhine... she was obviously only innocently asking about her best friend's sex newfound sex life,,, (she was partly genuinely curious in a friend way, but she also had a crush on her by that point)

Literally everyone else thought that they had been dating for years, and after a while, they stopped correcting people unless they had to, which, when paired with Rhine being shameless at times and not particularly trying to cover up her battle scars, REALLY had people thinking they were together.

Idk the exact circumstances in which they actually started dating,,, like I've changed my mind on when it happened far too many times, but surprisingly I think it was Rhine who actually started the conversation. She accidentally blurted out "what are we?" and the rest was history.

AND now that they were finally officially together, everything felt so much more different than before, even when nothing really changed all that much... they WERE practically dating since they were teens,,, but the officiality of the label was nice :) the (relatively) short time they were actually together was the best time of Rhine's life because she had someone to love, a best friend, she always had her apartment AND food on the table, AND she was able to do her alchemy with very loose reins as long as she showed some agricultural progress,,, which allowed her to put a lot of her work energy into her own personal endeavors! Including making a son the only way she could have biological children! and obviously he knew full well about her,,, situation,,, so he was cautiously supportive of her research because he figured she knows what she's doing,,, tbh he was probably also excited when she got to the homunc stage because she said she was gonna make it as close to a natural human as possible, which meant having two DNA sources,,, and she couldn't even provide all the ingredients herself :/ so!! they were gonna be parents together!!! [if i talk about alchemical stillbirth anymore tonight I might get assassinated so yeah... but that happened and rhine was DEVASTATED she had a full breakdown. it was kinda scary for both dain and alice to witness. then they fed him to durin as a badass funeral because he deserved it for progressing MUCH further than any other attempt (project paper doll thoughts are starting to seep into this i hear the guns cocking)] then they try again with albedo and even though he was successfully "born" his father never got to see him out of the flask :/

BECAUUUUUUSSSEEEEEE the whole time Rhine was messing with abyss and forbidden knowledge juices and was becoming increasingly unwell and unstable. but she was able to hide her (increased) mental instability up until immediately before the cataclysm. HOWEVER COMMA, her continuously declining physical health was a different story. He had to watch as she developed a cough, which would only get worse and worse, and weird dark "rashes" on her arms that would occasionally make it difficult for her to use them, and she would always refuse to go to the doctor (because she knew what was causing this. and the doctors hopefully wouldn't). Eventually, she'd be coughing up blood from the force of her cough, the rashes on her arms would spread and get a more scaly texture, she'd be in pain more often than not, her general mobility suffered, she'd get headaches and migraines randomly, and even the occasional fainting spell, but she was determined to take care of it herself. Then the cataclysm happened. During that time, Albedo was born or hatched or whatever, and Dain really wanted to see his son at least once before he was called down to fight against the gods, but by this point Rhine was completely delusional. This time around, forbidden knowledge exacerbated both her work related desires and her desire to be a good mom, but she started to believe that EVERYONE was out to hurt Albedo and only she could protect him, so she refused to let anyone even near her lab when, even just a few weeks before, both Dain and Alice were allowed to see eggbedo. Their last interaction was them fighting over if he should be allowed to see HIS son, but even though he was frustrated with her, he felt bad for her. She had such a wild, fearful look in her eyes, almost like a mother beast protecting her young. She was actually afraid of something happening to Albedo, and it was a level of fear he had never seen from her before and he knows she's gone through some SHIT! He's literally seen, in real time, a trauma response panic attack from her and even then she conveyed less fear than she is right now. He leaves her alone. The next day, she's gone. All the necessities from her place are missing and Albedo is gone too. Their last interaction was an argument. They never got to say a proper goodbye... they didn't even know if the other was alive for quite a long time. It'd make sense if either of them did die... Dain could've died in battle before the curse, and the heavens could've seen Rhine as too much of a risk to keep immortal.

but yknow,,, 500 years pass and Dain has been known to prowl mondstadt at least a few times,,, and he somehow knows everything. so he heard rumors about the new alchemist with the knights whose name is Albedo. and he just Knows. Firstly from the name, because Rhinedottir is uncreative with her names and the first of any of her phases will be named after their stage (Durin was named Nigredo agenda!! it somehow became durin after the cataclysm. Dain was allowed to pick Elynas's name since she was out of ideas). Secondly, who else would be able to completely change the way alchemy was viewed and talked about except for the offspring of the woman who did the same 500 years prior? He doesn't seek him out because he has no idea what Rhine has become since their last encounter. Does Albedo even know he has a father (no.)? Did Rhine feed him lies about other Khaenri'ahns? Dain didn't want to start a fight or worse... clearly she had taught him her methods, he figures as he watches, from a distance, as Albedo sprouts a flower from his hand the same way his momma did as a girl. He fears Albedo could bring about a second cataclysm if he's not careful with it, and as they say hindsight is 20/20, so he knows what to look for. He has learned that Rhine's illness was from her tampering with the abyss and forbidden knowledge. He also, unknowingly at the time, watched as his own brother and his brother's friends became more and more lured in by the abyss, so he's seen the range of its impact. He keeps his eyes and ears peeled for the first sign of Albedo falling down the same path because, as much as it would hurt him to hurt his own son, he will dispose of Albedo before he can repeat what his mother has done. He can't lose another family member to the abyss.

[newrochellechallenger2019]

2 / 2 / 1 please

ahh!!! hi saoirse thank you so much!!! stick season x patrick zweig x smut especially for you my love!!!

also i got so carried away writing this...please forgive my ramblings...

wc: 2873

writing game!

‘Welcome to Vermont!’ The sign seemed to taunt Patrick as he drove down the highway surrounded by thick forest, like this place had been anything but welcoming to him. His parents had decided to move here whilst he was at the MRTA because of the ‘potential’, like the millions they’d made in New York weren’t enough for them already. Patrick’s eyes were drawn back to the passenger seat, the crumpled ‘Zweig Christmas Gala!’ invitation staring back at him, not your soft features, your feet up on his dashboard even though he’d always tell you to sit normally and quit dirtying his car with that telltale smirk because he could never stay mad at you. He could already sense the smug looks on those aristocratic faces as his father retells the story of the ‘wasted money’ in sending Patrick to a tennis boarding school and how he had to ‘grovel at his father’s feet’ for a job in the company and how he had to be ‘put up in an apartment in Chicago for the foreseeable’. It’s enough to make him want to drive his beat up car into a ditch.

But he doesn’t, because he could never see things through, you’d’ve teased him for that. So, it wasn’t long before he was rounding the corner into his parent’s drive, parking besides stretch limousines and estate cars, his engine sputtering as he turned off the ignition, kicking his door open. The car boot creaked as he opened it, grabbing his suitcase, badges of the tennis tournaments he’d been to ironed all over it, a ribbon tied around the handle, a gift from you he couldn’t bear to get rid of, the constant aching reminder of the day you left. Rifling through his jacket pockets, Patrick’s fingers close around a joint, a calming presence as he holds it to his lips and lights it, taking a drag and watching the smoke fill the air, polluting these grounds the way he always does as he makes his way to the door. 

‘You can’t smoke in the house sir’ comes a frigid voice, Patrick looks over to see a man in a well ironed three piece suit standing by the door. 

‘It’s my house’ retorts Patrick, lips curled in a frown, barely through the door and he already had to deal with his mother’s bullshit. 

The man’s eyes widened in surprise, ‘Master Zweig? Why, we weren’t expecting your attendance-’

‘Yeah yeah’ Patrick mutters, pushing himself through the door, dragging his suitcase behind him. 

Before his thoughts could drift to the insane opulence of just the front entrance, Patrick’s mother swans into view, ‘Oh darling’ she crows, sweeping him into a perfumed hug, ‘I thought you’d given all that up years ago’ she frowns, prising the joint from between his teeth and putting it out before Patrick can protest as he watches his last bit of freedom sizzle away between her fingers. 

‘Jesus Christ mother, you’ve got servants now?’ The disdain in Patrick’s voice is evident as he takes in his mother, her wrinkles appear to have smoothed since he last saw her but he knows better than to mention it. 

‘We don’t call them servants! George is our doorman darling, he’s just there for security purposes.’ his mother croons in that patronizing tone that he remembered all too clearly from his younger years. 

‘Right.’ Patrick gives a noncommittal nod before heading upstairs with his suitcase, beady-eyed family portraits watching him as he climbs the grand staircase. 

You used to laugh at these portraits, especially when he'd poked fun at his Great-Great Uncle’s moustache, mimicked the pompous facial expression of his Great-Great-Great Grandma, he used to make you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe sometimes. Now he can’t remember the last time someone even smiled at something he’d said, Patrick looks down at his feet, he can’t face their judgement, not today. He tosses his suitcase onto his bed and sighs, walking over to his bay window, where the two of you would sit and talk about what you wanted to do with your lives, where he’d told you he’d drive you to the airport that day you left, the day you didn’t take him with you. Just as he’s trying to force the memories from his head, rain starts to drizzle, coating the manicured gardens in a dewey darkness. 

‘You’re my forever’ you whispered as the two of you lay in the gardens, surrounded by bushes and red clovers, your own version of paradise. 

‘Forever?’ scoffed Patrick, ‘What does that even mean?’ he chides, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

‘Well you know…it means I’m not going anywhere’ you shrug, ‘and you’re not either’ you elbow him. 

‘I don’t plan on it’ Patrick nods mockingly and you sit up, moving to straddle him, eyes lit up with an intensity he rarely saw in you, ‘pinky swear we’re forever?’ you murmur as you look down at him, pinky held out like a sacred being. 

‘Pinky swear we’re forever.’ he repeats with matching seriousness, pinky interlocking yours and you smile, satisfied. ‘Good.’ before flopping down beside him again, watching a plane fly by miles above you both.

‘Forever’ Patrick grumbles under his breath as he watches the raindrops slide down the window, ‘What a bunch of bullshit’. He grits his teeth, eyes falling to the dent in his wall from the day you’d left, he wasn’t going to let that happen again. Opening his suitcase, he grabs his suit and pulls it on, looking in the mirror as he fastens his tie and tries and fails to sort out his unruly curls. 

‘Patrick!’ his mother’s shrill voice reverberates through the house. ‘I’m coming!’ he shouts back, muttering under his breath about her impatience as he spritzes cologne before strolling back downstairs towards the expansive dining room. 

‘There you are! I want you to meet some people!’ his mother swoops in all smiles while her eyes scold him for his tardiness, pushing him into the growing throngs of people, ‘This is Sandra and Bill.’ she gestures and Patrick’s stomach drops. Your parents are staring at him blankly. ‘Yeah…uh…nice to meet you both’ he manages, his throat dry as he shakes both their hands. 

‘Now Bill was just telling me about his daughter, I believe she’s about your age, did you two know each other?’ his mother continues and Patrick bites back a scoff, it was certainly more than that. ‘Yeah-’ he goes to say more but meets Sandra’s eyes, there’s not a flicker of recognition in them and his heart aches, ‘I- uh- sort of’ he finishes awkwardly. 

‘You see she never told us if she’d be coming tonight and we know it’s ever such a long flight from London and-’ Sandra starts, ‘I thought you might have her number, dear’ his mother finishes for her. ‘Could you give her a call? See if she’ll be here?’ she says with a tight lipped smile, this was not a question. 

‘Oh’ is all Patrick could muster, of course he still had your number. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d stared at your contact, his finger just barely hovering over the call button. His thoughts are interrupted by his mother pulling him close to her side, ‘Wonderful, thank you darling!’ she praises before disappearing off into the crowd. 

Patrick pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts before landing on yours. What was he doing? Of course you weren’t going to answer, he knew that for certain. Even if you were on your way here, why would you want to be somewhere he was? He didn’t need to do this, Bill, Sandra and his mother had long since walked off, out of sight- 

Ring…ring- ‘Shit!’ hissed Patrick, without thinking his finger had slipped and now he was dialling you. He stared in horror, panic slowly seeping through his veins before the number rang out, ‘You’ve now reached the voicemail of-’ his worries eased, hoping to feel relief but instead the ache in his heart only increases as he hangs up. Patrick tries to take a deep breath as he shoves his phone back in his pocket. He needs to get you out of his head and fast. 

Making his way over to one of the tables, he grabs a bottle of beer and chugs half of it immediately, his grip on the bottle so tight he’s shocked it doesn’t smash right there in his hand, bringing his pain to the surface. He’s grimacing as he finishes the bottle, grabbing another before his father is pulling him into yet another conversation. 

‘Tell them how much money I spent on that bloody tennis academy of yours’ snaps his father, gesturing to the two men standing before him, Patrick could tell by his bloodshot eyes his father had had one too many drinks already but he was not in the mood to pick a fight about it. 

‘$675,500’ Patrick replies numbly, the number drilled into his head ever since he’d graduated. 

‘Right! And what did you do with it?’ his father continues, growing more irate at each word. 

‘Lost’ mutters Patrick, looking down, suddenly feeling a lot like that little boy hiding from his father in his bedroom again. 

‘Right! You and that stupid blonde boy won one trophy and it was enough to make you think you could go pro!’ his father scoffs, turning to the two men for approval, ‘He’s crawling up to our door, telling us how awful the tour is, how he’s lost every match and how wrong he was and how he wants to work for me-’ his father is practically yelling, revelling in Patrick’s shame. 

Just when Patrick’s starting to think he can’t stomach much more of this, debating making an excuse, grabbing a tray of wines and hurrying out the door, he catches a glimpse of a young woman attempting to slip into the party unnoticed. Patrick’s heart stops when he realises it’s you, the one he’s been dreaming about ever since you left. Tentatively, he starts to walk away from his father’s complaints, away from the nodding businessman and closer to you. The gold dress you’re wearing clings to your body like it was made just for you and the lights adoring the room make your doe eyes twinkle like stars in the night sky. 

‘Can I get you a drink?’ he says dumbly, playing host at a gala he wishes he wasn’t at.

Your soft gaze turns to him and you brighten, like it hasn’t been years since you spoke. ‘I’d love one, Patrick, thank you.’ 

He turns and grabs a glass of wine off one of the passing waiters and hands it to you, ‘Here’. You smile gratefully and take a sip. ‘So…London?’ he broaches. 

‘Mmm’ you nod seriously, ‘It’s wonderful over there, they do the most divine teas and some of the views in Notting Hill are just-’ 

Patrick stopped listening after that, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way you gestured with your hands animatedly when you were excited about something, the way the dress exposes your collarbones and how easy it would be to just lean in and- 

‘I miss you’ he says calmly, so much for staying steadfast. He watches you intently, looking for any change in your facial expression and when he realises you’re not staring at him in shock and disgust, he continues. ‘I still think about you a lot, about us a lot.’ 

You blink, brow furrowing ever so slightly, ‘You do? I thought- I thought you were happy for me? You drove me to the airport that day-’ 

His hands move to cup your face and you don’t pull away, after all these years it still feels so familiar to the both of you. ‘It killed me to let you go but I couldn’t let anyone else drive you there, I needed that one last drive with you.’ 

‘You always did love driving me around’ you laugh, cheeks blushing red as the easy energy crackles around you both. 

‘Please’ Patrick utters, somehow distilling everything between you two into that one word. 

You down your wine and nod, ‘Fuck it, I missed you too’.

That’s all Patrick needs to hear before his hand is enclosing around your own and he’s dragging you out of the dining room and you’re sprinting down the hallway with little to no abandon and it’s almost like you never left. Patrick pulls you into the nearest bathroom breathlessly and lifts you up onto the counter besides the sink, your heels clanking against the marble as he drinks you in. 

‘How’d you get even prettier?’ he murmurs, hands running up and down your sides reverently. 

‘Maybe it’s the London air’ you shrug, looking down at him endearingly. 

‘Maybe…’ he murmurs, before he’s pulling you in for a kiss and it’s everything he could’ve dreamt of and more. 

Your lips are softer than he remembers but the feelings are  still there, the desire and hunger for each other as his tongue prods your bottom lips, asking for entrance. You oblige and his tongue collides with yours messily, fighting for dominance as the air in the bathroom grows stifling hot. Panting, you break apart, his hands gripping your hips like a vice, terrified to let go for fear he might lose you again. 

His eyes are pleading before he says the words, ‘I think we should…’ and you nod vigorously, already starting to hike up the skirt of your dress to your thighs. 

‘I agree’ is your murmured response, and he’s tugging at the belt of his suit, tossing it aside and unzipping his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles, his dick already prominent in his boxers. 

Patrick’s hands find your thighs, and he slowly starts to move his fingers towards your panties, rubbing carefully against the fabric and you squirm, he takes that as a signal to keep going, creating more friction until your hips are bucking against him and he smirks, pulling the fabric to the side and tracing his finger across your slit, feeling the wetness starting to collect there. 

You shudder as he slowly pushes one finger in, prepping you for his cock as he presses right to the hilt. He adds a second finger, scissoring them inside you and you gasp, ‘Patrick-’ as you feel his fingers stretching your gummy walls. ‘Ready?’ he whispers and you nod, craving his cock inside you. Pulling his fingers out, you whimper at the loss of stimulation but watch in awe as he licks his fingers clean of your slick, before pulling his boxers down and letting them pool around his ankles too. Patrick lines himself up with your entrance, hands gripping the counter as he slowly pushes into your cunt. 

Even two fingers can’t prepare you for the size of his cock and you’re choking on your own breath as he buries himself inside you. You moan as his tip hits your G-spot but his hand clamps over your mouth and your eyes widen. 

‘You gotta be quiet, sweetheart’ he mutters urgently. ‘My parents would kill me if they heard us’ 

You nod, your parents would too. Still, he keeps his hand over your mouth as he starts to thrust in and out of you, causing you to shiver in delight. Once Patrick sets his rhythm, he’s relentless, his hands clutching at your hips as he pushes in and out, in and out, in and out, your pussy squeezing tight around him so hard he’s struggling to stifle his own moans. It’s when his rhythm disappears that you know he’s about to cum, he starts to pant, going faster and faster till he’s practically pounding your pussy so hard you fear you’ll fall back and hit the mirror. 

‘I’m- I’m-’ he grunts before bottoming out in you one last time, you can feel his seed filling you and you gulp, thanking god for birth control. Patrick’s out of breath, head resting against your shoulder as you squeeze every last drop from him. He meets your eyes, a little dazed and it’s like he can tell without you even needing to say anything that you haven’t orgasmed because his hand is snaking back down between your thighs and rubbing your clit, giving you the last push you need, ‘Oh- Oh-’ you cry out, it’s too much, full of his cock, fingers on your clit and your legs start to shake, jolting as you cum, nearly seeing stars. 

‘Still with me?’ Patrick croons gently as he pulls out of you, watching your cunt spasm and drip with his seed and you nod, rubbing your face. 

‘Mhm’ you swallow thickly, sliding off the counter carefully and into his arms. 

‘That was-’ Patrick breathed, pulling his boxers and trousers back on, it was beyond words. 

You smile weakly as you go to use the toilet, ‘Yeah…it was’ you agree, still reeling from your orgasm. 

Patrick adjusts his tie in the mirror before calling out, ‘Will I see you back in there?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world’ you call back cheerfully and Patrick smiled to himself, by god was he glad to have you back in his life. 

[underwaterspaghetti314]

Jeez Louise I want to see the Abbot get redeemed actually. I didn’t at first. I wanted that man to have a most unfortunate end because he’s yet another person using God to justify hate-driven atrocities. But Mizrak showing up and saying “Even moments from the end, a thief repented and was forgiven” has made me want this redemption so bad.

Just once I want to see a narrative talk about an all-forgiving God and actually pull through with it. God can forgive everything if you are truly repentant. I feel like if the Abbot can put in the work to undo his actions and fight back against Erzebet, he could be forgiven. I don’t need him to get everything he wanted. As far as I can tell his relationship with Maria and Tara are beyond over. If he could look with his special eyes he could see that those are dead and rotting at the bottom of a lake. I don’t even need him to live to the end of it (as much as I’d like that. Some redemption arcs love to just be “oh they’re good now but now they’re dead so we don’t need to worry about how that works!” and I’d prefer if that didn’t happen here, but if it does oh well). I just want to see someone fall into Hell’s trap in this show and find a way to escape it.

I also think his redemption arc could be very interesting story wise. In that discussion with Mizrak he said that he could hear the quiet laughter of Hell waiting for him in the shadows, and he’s already resigned himself to damnation when he dies. I think that kind of sad resignation is one of Hell’s greatest weapons. They make you sort of sunk-cost your way into more evil by making you think you’re already a bad person, so it’s no use trying to improve. And combine this with a similar arc going on with the Abbot’s night creatures (literal creatures from Hell who choose good anyway, rejecting Hell with whatever actions they can), and I think we’ve got an interesting arc here. We got the Abbot, a supposedly holy man who believes himself firmly in Hell’s clutches, and the night creatures, quite literally born from Hell but choosing to fight against it anyway.

Everyone surrounding the Abbot has something to teach him about being better if he’s just willing to listen. Mizrak seems more devoted to God (teachings-wise at least), Tara knows more about love than he does, Maria knows more about justice than he does, and the night creatures know more about never resigning yourself to evil than he does. He just needs to get out of his despair and learn from these people already!

Anyway time to watch the second half of this season and see if I’m horribly wrong or not.

[fritzes]

ok, now that I’ve calmed down here are my objective, purely tennis-based observations about the draw:

wta:

swiatek has a really, really rough draw. kenin in round 1 is the worst luck, she’s a former ao champion and she just took out coco in round 1 of wimbledon. in round 2 it’ll be collins or kerber, which isn’t awful especially considering she just beat kerber at the united cup and has only lost to collins once. then she could meet svitolina in the round of 16, who beat her in the wimbledon quarterfinals. and of course, her nemesis ostapenko is lurking in the bottom half of the quarter, but she would have to get past azarenka first which is a tall order at the ao. so yeah, not looking great for iga but it isn’t by any means a lost cause

things aren't looking great for vondrousova either, ever since the us open her results haven't been very good and she's been struggling with injury. her draw looks manageable until the round of 16 on paper, but if her body doesn't hold. up I could see her going out to navarro. in the round of 16 she's probably gonna be stuck with either azarenka or ostapenko, and I don't see her winning either of those matches

ajla tomljanovic is also in this nightmare quarter, and we could see her beef with ostapenko get rehashed in the second round. if that match does happen though, it depends on ostapenko's level, not tomljanovic's. if she's on, ajla doesn't really have a chance, but if she has an off day then its anyone's match. ajla could single-handedly save iga's sanity

rybakina/pliskova as a first round matchup is really interesting, there's way less "servebots" in the wta than the atp and yet two of them are against each other in the first round. I think pliskova's movement (or lack thereof) will sink her, elena should win this match pretty easily. she has a pretty good draw, I don't think there's anyone in her half of the quarter that can really pose a threat

the bottom half of rybakina's quarter is really interesting. pegula vs zheng is the projected round of 16 match, but if raducanu can stay injury free (and that's a BIG if) she might be able to make a deep run. I don't think she's gonna get past zheng, but there's a chance. if zheng/pegula does happen, it's probably going to be a very close match

daria kasatkina is also in this quarter. she's really good at playing to her seed, and I think that's what will happen here. I don't think she'll lose before the round of 16, but I don't think she'll beat rybakina

the projected semifinal of swiatek vs rybakina has a lot of potential, but they have to get there first. honestly I'm really confident in elena making the semis but iga is going to have a much tougher time

and now to the third quarter, which is completely ridiculous. gauff vs sakkari is the projected quarterfinal, but in this quarter we also have: linette (who was a semifinalist last year), wozniacki, haddad maia, garcia, osaka, and fernandez

that being said, gauff has a pretty decent draw. her first big challenge is potentially fernandez in the fourth round. they’ve only played each other once at the french open juniors, which coco won. I think coco will win this match because, especially now with her improved forehand, she’s a lot more well-rounded and complete than leylah. of course, there is the possibility of osaka in the round of 16. if she gets past garcia (who has been in a bit of a slump lately) I think naomi can absolutely get there, which will be a major challenge for both her and coco

as for the top half of this quarter, I’m going to make a bold prediction and say haddad maia is going to be a quarterfinalist. sakkari is the projected quarterfinalist, but her mental block at grand slams is definitely holding her back. she lost in the first round of the last three slams she played, and while I think she can make a bit of a dent here I don’t think she’ll go that far (I would love to be wrong). I don’t think wozniacki and linette will get past haddad maia either

sabalenka couldn’t have asked for a better draw. there is no one I can see that could maybe pose a threat until samsonova in the round of 16, but even then I think aryna can handily win that match. in the quarterfinals she will most likely play jabeur or krejcikova, both of which are winnable matches. honestly, aryna’s biggest opponent in this quarter is herself. she's dealing with the pressure of defending a grand slam title for the first time ever, and it’s definitely possible that the mental side could make her game worse. this is absolutely aryna’s quarter to lose

for the top half of the quarter, it’s probably going to be jabeur vs krejcikova in the round of 16, unless andreeva manages to pull of a massive upset. both of them have the potential to beat sabalenka in the quarterfinals (especially ons), but if aryna plays like she did last year I don’t think they’ll beat her

the projected semifinal is a rematch of the us open final, which could definitely give coco the edge because aryna will probably be thinking about that match (and how she lost it from a set up). that being said, either of them can win it, I think they’re pretty even in terms of level right now

interesting round 1 matches: swiatek/kenin, kerber/collins, rybakina/pliskova, linette/wozniacki, garcia/osaka, samsonova/anisimova, vekic/pavlyuchenkova 

atp:

oh boy this first quarter is… something. at first glance, it looks like djokovic is going to win. and yes, djokovic is probably going to win this quarter. I honestly think that the person with the best chance against him here is ben shelton. he lost in straight sets at the us open, but I feel like he’s improved so much since then and I do think it’s possible. is it probable? absolutely not, and all logic points to novak djokovic winning this quarter

the bottom half of the quarter can be anyone’s. tsitsipas is projected to win, but he’s been struggling with a back injury that seems really serious, and drawing berrettini first round definitely isn’t helping. I don’t think tsitsipas is going to make the quarterfinals, but there isn’t really a clear person to take his place. any one of berrettini, fritz, or musetti could be a quarterfinalist and that would make perfect sense. if berrettini is in form, a deep run absolutely isn’t out of the question, but I’m not sure if he’s going to be at his best. fritz, by all means, should be able to make the quarterfinals, but his mental block at slams is very real. he did make the quarterfinals at the us open so that probably helps, but knowing his grand slam history I don’t have a lot of confidence in him getting to the quarters. musetti has been so insanely up-and-down lately that I don’t even know what his chances are. if we’re getting the lorenzo that has beaten djokovic, then he can absolutely make the quarterfinals but if we’re getting the lorenzo from any tournament in the second half of last season, it’s not gonna happen

this is jannik sinner’s quarter to lose. if he retains the form of his life from the end of last season, then there isn’t a single person in this quarter he should lose to. now, it’s been a while since the davis cup and obviously form wears off. plus, his history in best-of-five matches isn’t great, and the lot of the hype around jannik is very much due to recency bias (I say this as someone who is absolutely biased towards him). still, his draw looks pretty open and he should be able to take advantage of that

the projected quarterfinalist is rublev, who has never won a grand slam quarterfinal, jannik has a winning record against him. in all honestly, I think it’s more likely that de minaur will make the quarterfinals. he just had an insane run at the united cup, he’s finally in the top 10, and he has the crowd behind him. however, he is 0-6 against sinner and it’s unlikely that he can beat him. however, it is worth noting that before beijing, jannik was 0-6 against medvedev and is now 3-6 against him, so anything can happen

the projected semifinal: sinner vs djokovic. this will be the big test for sinner: can he beat djokovic in best-of-five? I honestly don’t know the answer (I know what I want the answer to be of course, but I’m trying to be realistic). djokovic is definitely the favorite, but I wouldn’t count jannik out at all

let's just call the third quarter what it is: chaos

the projected winner is medvedev, and all things considered this is a pretty great draw for him. he’s always really good at the ao and not very upset-prone unless he’s playing korda, who isn’t in his quarter this year. his first challenge will most likely be dimitrov in the round of 16, and then either hurkacz or rune in the quarterfinals. dimitrov will be a really hard matchup for him considering the form he’s in, and dimitrov won their last meeting. that being said, grigor isn’t always the best at dealing with pressure against players ranked higher than him, and I think medvedev will use that to his advantage. for the quarterfinals, both rune and hurkacz have the potential to beat him (especially hurkacz, the fast courts will really help him out) but medvedev is definitely still the favorite

like I said, the other quarterfinalist is probably going to be rune or hurkacz, but I could see fils, safiullin, and maybe even shapovalov making deep runs. I think if rune’s stamina holds up it’ll probably be him, and we have yet to see him play at a grand slam with his ridiculous coaching lineup so who knows

and now the last quarter. much like sinner, this is alcaraz's quarter to lose. I think the biggest issue for him could be paul in the round of 16, but when you compare carlos’ matches against paul in toronto and cincy, it’s clear that he learned from the loss and I think he can definitely win that match. either of the likely quarterfinalists shouldn’t trouble him too much: he just beat zverev at the us open, and ruud has never beaten him. ever. this is a really good draw for him and if he can capitalize on it he can easily make the semifinals

the top half of this quarter is all going to depend on which casper ruud shows up. if we get the ’22-23 roland-garros and ’22 us open casper ruud, then I have full confidence in him making the quarterfinals. if we get the casper ruud from pretty much any other grand slam, then he’s. Probably going to lose to purcell in the second round. if he isn’t in-form, then unfortunately zverev will most likely be the quarterfinalist, I just can’t see lehecka or norrie taking him out

I don’t think I can even predict the projected semifinal. alcaraz and medvedev are 1-1 in grand slam semifinals. this is arguably medvedev’s best slam, but we haven’t really seen prime alcaraz at the australian open since he was injured last year. either of them could win this and I wouldn’t be surprised

interesting round 1 matches: murray/etcheverry, mannarino/wawrinka, shelton/bautista agut, tsitsipas/berrettini, tiafoe/coric, de minaur/raonic, safiullin/griekspoor, auger-aliassime/thiem, sonego/evans

[just-a-skrunkly]

Oh since I've given in and made a blog here you should check out my fic (/nf)!! It's honestly kind of self-indulgent and the chapters are short but yeah :3 (it's a Dexter x reader...... AHH)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63890476

[shooks-stupid-stuff]

Re:Shook’s Weekly OCs: #004

Jacian Von Rittedel (Modern Vers.)

definitely haven't been putting off writing this post because I know it's gonna be a long one

Ahem. Anyways. Were I making this post like, 3 years ago, then I could confidently say that this glorious goofy man needs no introduction.

However I haven't really done anything with him in a LONG ass time, and he and Taiana have been overthrown as my most well known OCs (probably) by the other blue-and-blonde-haired-duo that I've become completely obsessed with, so. There's no escaping it.

This is gonna be a LONG ass post, only saved by the fact that technically this is an AU version so I can skip some stuff and save it for later, haha.

...But also kinda not. Anyways I should stop dragging my feet and just start huh-

Also, this is the fist of these with trigger warning! So, minor self harm/attempted s*icide tw; I'm not gonna do anything more than just briefly mention The Thing That Happened, but y'know. Better safe than sorry and all that.

So, Jacian is a character made intentionally to be a parody of the Camus archetype from hit game series Fire Emblem, because he was initially made for a FE fangame idea I had (which has since then just become it's own thing, and my pipedream video game that I would like to make some day but probably never will). He can be boiled down to being a charismatic and overly dramatic knight who values loyalty to his lord above all else, and refuses to fight anything but fair duels 99% of the time. This version of him specifically is just one I made so that I could use him in my other OC stuff, since y'know. It's kinda hard to just plop a Ye Olde Times guy into the modern day without adapting him a bit lol.

That said, a lot about him is still the same; even the way he talks (bro does NOT know what a contraction is), and dresses, and he's still a knight because like. What right do I have to take that away from him, look at him he was BORN to be one. He's generally a very sociable and likeable guy, and despite being a certified oddball with the whole noble-knight schtick, he has an undeniable charm that typically wins over most people who meet him. In other words, bro has a maxxed out charisma stat. That isn't to say he's incapable of being serious though, he very much is, but he really only drops his usual charm when things actually get serious, and becomes more reserved as time goes on.

That said, this version of Jacian specifically is also from further along story-wise than the normal/base version of him (those who know now probably get why that tw is there (assuming they didn't before. they probably did)), so it's prrrrobably gonna be easier to just run through his whole background/backstory than to effectively explain basically two different characters just to show how he's different? (which like. base Jacian is getting his own post at some point anyways so i can just go into detail about how he is at that point of his character development there anyways)

So, Jacian always had wanted to be a knight. Like, ever since he was a kid. Even though it's like. Modern day. Specifically, he wanted to be someone's 'evil' rival, with his definition of evil being solely shaped by goofy, non-threatening antagonists from Saturday morning cartoons. You know the type, causing Mild Inconvenience at worst and all that stuff. Unrealistic as it may be though, he was determined, and stuck with the whole bit through most of his childhood (up until around middle school). Around that time though, his world view started to shift a bit; he both was just naturally maturing, and at the same time having to deal with the sudden loss of his father, who had always been the one most willing to indulge his fantasies, going as far as to actually teach Jacian to use a sword (he's a whole other can of worms i could get into, but he'll probably get his own post some day so. I'm gonna refrain from going more into his whole deal so that this doesn't become even more of a barely comprehensible stream-of-consciousness ramble than it already is lol), as well as his mother getting incredibly sick shortly after (she had to leave the country to get the medical treatment she needed, and would end up passing away years later). However, rather than the reasonable outcome of him just dropping the whole knight thing altogether coming to pass, he instead doubles down, just with a much more serious attitude about the whole thing. He's still definitely a goof, but now he's a lot more thoughtful and mature about the whole thing (which has the unintentional effect of him becoming actually really well liked by his peers, instead of being seen as a weirdo). Fast forward a few years (again, glazing over some stuff for the sake of keeping this coherent, and also because I don't have all of the details smoothed out yet since this whole version is kinda a square peg in circle hole type situation), and he is both A. somehow actually working as a knight, for a man I am NOT getting into here because it is, again, a WHOLE other thing that's best to be explained in a different character's post (if he comes up again in this post, which. he definitely will. I'll just be referring to him as 'his (Jacian's) lord', since that's what Jacian calls him because he's just. Like That.) and B. has actually become someone's antagonistic rival; with that person being his 'Eternal Rival', Taiana (you'll hear more about her next week, but the long and short of it is that she's the blue-haired lord to his Camus archetype. ...For anyone who doesn't know jack shit about FE, she's the protagonist of the thing they're both from). And though he's only fighting her because he has been ordered to, (again, a story for later) he very much enjoys having someone who both takes him seriously, and is an even match for him swordplay-wise. Which is to say every duel that they have ends in a draw, which then motivates them both to train even more, and then the whole thing repeats. The two of them do end up becoming quite close though, with Jacian even developing feelings for her, which he is not very good at hiding, to say the least (Taiana is, however, a social brick wall so she doesn't realize At All despite that) and which only serves to further complicate things when Jacian receives the order to either kill her, or die trying.

Just real quick side note here - I swear this all makes a lot more logical sense in these two's original setting, however pigeon-holing plots into places that they have no write being is kinda just what I have to do sometimes to make characters work in alternate settings (because I can't just. change the plot, no that would make too much sense) so like. Just suspend your disbelief or whatever, or if you wanna see this shit in context feel free to go dig up my old OC ask blog (no I will not link it here, it's embarrassing) and read through the whole saga there (because yes, this is the SECOND time I'm adapting these two to a modern setting). It's definitely a bit rough, but like. It's also kind of peak I wrote like 20 pages and made a lot of people mad at me it was awesome (still not as good as the William stuff though, that was genuinely the peak of my comedic writing and the only overarching plot I did there that didn't lose steam and fall apart at the end).

Anyways back to the two 17 year olds dueling to the death.

Naturally, this... Doesn't end well. It doesn't really matter who wins, because either way the outcome is the same: Neither of them are willing to kill the other, and both would rather sacrifice themselves for the others sake. Despite being, well - rivals, they honestly understand each other perfectly and care a LOT about each other. And so once the duel ends, and the inevitable comes, Jacian chooses to try and take his own life via stabbing himself through the chest with his rapier rather than kill Taiana or force her to kill him herself.

Now, he doesn't die (though the how + why of that makes more sense to be explained in Taiana's post, so lookf forward to(?) that next week) but that doesn't necessarily mean things are great now either. Not only is he now dealing with the inner conflict resulting from him pretty much breaking his own code of honor and loyalty, but there's also now the bigger issue of needing to deal with/take down his lord, which is again. A Whole Thing I'm not gonna get into here. Just know that the situation is a lot more complex than either he or Taiana realizes, and that they have a big fight that then leads to all three of them pretty much going missing for a year, and most people assuming that they're dead (Jacian and Taiana aren't but his lord definitely is (they did not kill him, some other shit happened, It's Complicated).

And now, we finally get to the point that this version of Jacian is at, having finally come back from wherever the hell the two of them had been and acting as if nothing had ever happened! Though he definitely has become noticeably more reserved and less bombastic, only really going full ham when him and Taiana are goofing off and/or dueling (because yes they still do that, they are Eternal rivals after all, and just because they're dating now doesn't mean that that has changed. Oh yeah they finally got together, and it changed literally nothing about their dynamic.)

He takes his swordplay very seriously, and has two primary weapons; his trusty rapier, which is just. A standard rapier, he has it on him pretty much almost always, and his big-ass fuck-off great sword that has been passed down through his family for generations, and that may or may not have been blessed by/contain the power of a God of Lightning. (regardless of if it does or doesn't, it sure does have lightning powers regardless. And also since there's not really a better place to put this, Jacian is completely immune to electricity. ...He's still scared of thunderstorms, though. Though he's mostly gotten over that fear at the point of development that this version of him is at. Mostly.) He also usually wields it with one hand, which is impressive because again. It is Stupidly Big, but also he's just that cool. I mean come on, look at the doodle of him holding it (in the wrong hand because, even though I made sure to position his rapier on his design in a way that would make sense for him to unsheathe it with his right hand (despite it definitely being easier to just draw it on the other side so that most of it would be covered) I somehow then immediately forgot that he was right handed while drawing the doodle. Just. Pretend he's kinda ambidextrous or something (he actually kinda is) idk I'm just kinda stupid sometimes). He's so cool.

Aside from his friendship/rivalry/enemies-to-lovers with Taiana, he has quite a good number of other close friends (nearly all of which have been better adapted to the setting than him, because yes, they are ALSO all from the former fire emblem fangame, and a majority of them form his Squad in that universe. However the modern versions of them are honestly the main/base ones, so that checks out tbh. for them at least.) The 'main' four are Merridith, Chiuji, Kaitso and Kyō, all of whom, drumroll please, will get their own posts at some point, and all of whom get along with each other to degrees varying from besties (Merridith + Chiuji/Kaitso + Kyō) to actively beefing (Merridith + Kyō, though it's really just Merridith). There's also Gabbrielli, who is childhood friends with both Jacian and Taiana, and also may or may not be a actual prince. Allegedly. He has his own shit going on, only some of which is related to the Jacian and Taiana shit.

Design wise, I was going for basically 'Older, cooler Jacian' and to me that meant coat draped over shoulders like a cape - which actually worked super well, because he usually has a red cape, and I usually make the inside of his jacket red. Other than that, it's kinda a mish-mash of elements from other Jacian designs that I thought worked + the same boots he always has, but the soles are white now wowee; and of course, his signature flower, white lilies. Which fit him both aesthetically AND symbolically :] Oh, and I forgot to mention this earlier, but he goes by the moniker of 'White Lily Knight' because of course he does.

There is almost certainly more, I could say probably, but. I think this is MORE than enough for now, lmao.

...And i get to write just as much if not more for Taiana next week. Fun :']

Anyways. Yeah that's about it, I like Jacian a lot, he's just a goofy guy who also manages to be charming and cool, despite being a total dweebus. Probably (definitely) in my top 10 OCs :]