#wait... maybe you can eat the buffer...

[jayjamjary]

Why did they make agarose gel so yummy looking. Like lychee jelly :(

[writingroom21]

Hey boo boo bear imagine this kook rafe x shy pouge reader get stuck in a room together…… they have sex. I don't know how to plot this😭

Rafe only tolerates reader in his sister group since reader is shy and quiet and because she's a good baker and cooker since he eats the food reader makes for Sarah (the reader doesn't know obviously)❤️❤️❤️ plz make it super smutty

Escape Room

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), spanking, spitting, use of belt, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), choking, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 2.9K

A/N: This was just a great idea and I literally loved writing it.

“He said he would be there in fifteen minutes to pick up the brownies. Thank you again so much.” Sarah rushes out her words feeling bad that Rafe was already late. “It’s okay not like my job is super demanding anyway. I just sit here and watch the cameras. Plus it’s slow and no one has reservations.” Working at an escape room has its perks. You get to sit back and relax, watching as people try to figure out the puzzles. 

“Okay. Again I’m so sorry he’s late. Let me know if he was a dick after he leaves.” Sarah says before hanging up the call. Rafe was supposed to be here two hours ago and he is still not here. Sarah had asked you to make her brownies from the pool party she was having when she invited you. Sadly you had work but still had agreed to make them.

You’ve been making desserts and dinners for her since middle school. It started when you made some pasta dishes with your mom. You had brought some extra to school the next day and she had tried it at lunch. She fell in love with it and promised you to always save her extra when you cook. Even when you too went to different High schools she didn’t let that stop her.

She would ride her bike to your house all the way in the cut after school to try some new dishes. It was a little routine the two of you enjoyed. Then you started to make extra of every dish and dessert to bring to Tanny Hill. Everyone in the house loved your cooking and baking. Even the eldest Cameron sibling couldn’t find himself to hate it. No matter how hard his brain told him not to eat your dirt pogue food he still does.

He guesses over time his disdain for pogues dissipated only for you. He found himself excited to try a new dish or eat your famous cookies when Sarah brought them home. When Sarah had asked him to pick up at first he was really willing to get them. Accepting the chance to get close to you without having her around. Then he realized he would actually have to be around you without a buffer.

Rafe decided that the longer he waits to pick up the brownies then maybe the less time you have to take to him. That’s why he told Sarah he would be there in fifteen all while he was still on the course playing golf with Topper and Kelce. 

Another forty minutes pass and he is still not here. The last group of people leave the alien invasion room. Sighing you get up and start to clean up the room. This is the one downside of everything, you have to clean the whole things up. Resetting every clue is a hassle in itself, not to mention people make messes on purpose. You were so busy trying to put one of the clues together that you didn’t hear someone calling out for you.

Rafe walks around calling out your name to find you. “Where are you? I just need the brownies and then I’ll be gone.” He sees one of the doors open and a figure lurking around. Getting closer he can see that it’s you so he walks into the doorway. “Hey! Can I get them now?” You turn around to see Rafe, clutching your chest at the scare that he gave you.

He goes to walk further into the room and bumps into the door holder making it fly out of place. “Don’t let the-” The door slams shut due to the weight of it, it’s slam echoing in the room. “Door close.” Rafe turns around to open it. “God, it's not a huge deal.” The door handle shakes but it doesn’t budge.

“Why isn’t it opening?” There’s a twinge of irritation in his voice. Whipping around to look at you he finds you sitting down on one of the seats. Like clock work the automatic voice booms through the speakers. 

“Welcome brave fighters. The Aliens have attacked and you are our only hope of fighting them. In exactly one hour they will take over the world and destroy it. This bunker contains the key to saving the world. Find it before time runs out or we are all doomed. Good luck.”

Just like that the clock above the door turns on and the seconds start to count down. “What the fuck is happening?” Rafe is rattling the door trying to pry it off the hinges. “It’s an automatic system. Once the door closes the game starts and you can’t get out.” You are willing to let the time run out already texting your boss to tell them you got locked in a room.

This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. At least those times weren’t you and there was someone else to open the door. It’s just your luck that today of all days you are the only one working. Your boss texts you back without being any help.

Well I’m on vacation right now. I’ll text the group chat to see who can come get you out. You might just have to solve it or wait it out.

“Who the fuck thought that was a good idea?” You laugh at him and go over to the first clue, solving it and getting the key out of the box. “It’s an escape room dumbass. It’s kinda the whole point. Plus everyone here knows not to close the door, that’s why the block was there.” Rafe closes his eyes as he realizes the thing his foot accidently hit was the only thing holding the door back.

“I didn’t know sorry.” Your back is turned to you as you are finding the keyhole on the table that opens it. Rafe watches in awe as the table top clicks open and you lock it into place. Sarah has always said that they should all come here to try one out and he brushed it off when they actually made plans. He thought these types of things were stupid but now that he’s seeing you do it just makes him think it’s him who's stupid. 

There would be no way that he would figure any of this out. He knows that you know how to do all of the clues due to having to set them up. But damn how would anyone be able to figure that out? Walking closer he can see that the table opens up into a map of the world and each country is out of order. You just set each one perfectly in place and a trap door opens on the far side of the wall.

“Didn’t realize you were so smart for a pogue?” You roll your eyes at him and push past him to go to the other room. “How long will it take you to figure this all out? I don’t have all day.” It is funny that he would say that considering he made you wait on him for most of the day. “That’s rich coming from you.” You get into the room and look at the fake control panel that’s in it. This is the one part of this room you take forever to fix. 

You can’t remember which switches control which thing. They all work in some way but only four of them cause the map to light up for the next clue. “What upset that I have a life and you don’t? I had shit to do, you aren’t important.” The laugh you let out is like you are mocking him and he hates it. “I could give two shits that you were late. Wouldn’t expect anything less from you. All you care about is yourself.”

“That’s not true.” If he thought that other laugh was annoying this one makes his blood boil. “You are literally the most selfish person I know. You’re rude, arrogant, and honestly a disgusting person. I would rather be stuck in a room with a million spiders then feel you breathing down my neck.” You didn’t realize how close you had gotten to him. All up close and personal to him. 

“I’m literally trying to figure all of this out so we can get out of her and you didn't even offer to help. All you can do is sit there on you ass like a fucking child.” Rafe’s anger gets the best of him and he wraps a hand around your neck. “Careful there. Don’t get on my bad side. You’re lucky I even tolerate you.” His fingers tighten a little bit, the blood flow slowing slightly. “If this is you tolerating me then maybe you should get fucking checked. There is obviously something wrong with you.”

The room gets quiet and all that can be heard is his heavy breathing. His chest is brushing against yours with each breath. Your eyes flicker back and forth looking into the blue eyes you’ve known for years. Without a second thought his lips are crashing onto yours. You meet his enthusiasm, kiss him just as hard. 

His other hand wraps around your hair tugging it to manipulate your head to deepen the kiss. Walking backwards you bump into the counsel, buttons digging into you as he lifts you to sit on it. “So much tough talk and look at you now.” The way he looks at you is belittling as if you aren’t a real person.

“Do you always have to be so annoying?” He smiles at you and dives back in to kiss you. Hands roam your body and squeeze the flesh under his palms. The kiss gets more intense as he nips at your lips. You let out a wince pulling back. Lifting a hand to touch your lip and feel the warmth seeping from the cut. “Are you serious?” Rafe smiles all cocky at you, feeling good that you were in pain. 

The smirk didn’t last because you delivered a smack across his face. He slowly turns his head back, shocked by the action. “Oh you’re going to regret that.” He kisses you again, ignoring your wince of pain and biting your lip even harder. The hands roaming your body move in between the two of you so he can unbutton your pants. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you lift yourself up, helping him take your pants off.

His right thumb starts to stroke you over your panties, feeling how wet you are. “Look at how wet you are. Shy little girl who’s actually just a slut in disguise.” You moan at the words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing you just right. The fabric makes it feel even better. Your hands reach towards his belt and unbuckles it. His pants and boxers are shoved down his legs.

“Can you just shut up and fuck me already. Starting to think that you keep talking just to stall.” Your hand wraps around his dick and starts stroking. The tilt of your head does him in. He grabs your face and pinches your cheeks together. “Don’t worry baby, just giving you some more time with your thoughts before I scramble them.” Without warning he pushes your panties to the side and thrusts into you.

The moan you let out is like a taste of heaven. The sweetest sound that he’s ever heard. His pace is brutal, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. In his head he’s thought about this before. This exact moment has played out in different ways in his dreams. In those he takes his time with you, stretching you out with his fingers and eating you out until his face is covered in you. That was always a part of his vision yet here he is skipping all of it.

It’s like there is something about you that clouds his thoughts and sense of morality. He can’t seem to keep his cool around you or to stop himself from being him. His grip on your cheeks get tighter, his hips snapping into you. He keeps watching your face as your eyes roll back.

If he wasn’t holding your face then you would have fallen backwards. As if he heard your thoughts he pushes you backwards, your back hurts from the keys. You know that tomorrow there will be marks left from them. His other arm wraps around your back lifting your hips in the air. From this angle he’s hitting deeper and getting your g-spot in the best way.

He’s holding you in a position to give himself the best form of pleasure and yet you are getting it too. At first he really didn’t care if you enjoyed it, only wanting to teach you a lesson. That mindset faded away just by looking at you. This was better than what he had imagined and he couldn’t be happier. He lifts you back up and pulls out, flipping you to lay over the counsel.

Lights flicker as some buttons are pushed from your hands slamming down to catch yourself. Rafe kneels down behind you and attaches his lips to your clit. Your head drops down to rest on your forearm. “Oh fuck that feels good.” Rafe hums at the taste of you, shaking his head slightly side to side. He stays there for a few minutes bringing you to the very edge of your orgasm before stopping.

Pulling back his hands play with your ass, his eyes catching the glint from his belt buckle. An idea pops into his head. Picking up the belt he folds it in half, dragging it up your leg as he stands up. “What are you doing?” You turn your head to look at him and see him smirking down at you. Without saying anything to you he lifts up the belt and smacks your ass with it. You let out a yelp from the stinging sensation.

He does it once again, your yelps morphing into moans. The pain is dull or maybe you are just too focused on the way he’s kissing up your spine. His other hand grips  himself, lining his dick back up to your entrance. Teeth dig into the side of your neck as he sinks into your soaked pussy. Your eyes pinch shut, mouth wide open as he keeps thrusting in.

You are enveloped in pleasure, so much so that all of your senses seem to disappear. Your ears are ringing, eyes watering from pleasure, all you can feel is him all around you and something cool around your neck. Opening your eyes was like a wake up call. You can feel the smooth leather moving around your skin as he loops it through the buckle. Lifting a hand to touch your neck confirms it all. 

He put the belt around your neck.

Rafe wraps his hand with the excess leather, keeping a tight grip on it. He yanks a little on it to tighten it. Not enough to fully choke you but enough to make it pleasurable. He gives it another tug when he realizes you like it, causing your back to arch. Your head is practically touching his shoulder now. He moves a hand up your body to grab your face, turning it to look at him.

Once your eyes are staring back at it he speaks. “Open your mouth.” You don’t know why he even told you anything, he used his grip to pry it open anyway. Rafe spits into your open mouth, kissing you immediately after. His thrusts are increasing in pace, slamming into your hips. The familiar feeling of your orgasm washes over you, making your body convulse. Your moans are loud, tearing through your throat.

Rafe helps you through your orgasm before pulling out and stroking himself, cumming all over your ass. “Oh fuck. You look so pretty like this, covered in my cum. All fucked out because of me.” He’s mesmerized as he plays with his cum, scooping it with his fingers he brings it to your mouth. On instinct you lick them clean, moaning at the taste of him.

The sounds of a buzzing noise scares the two of you away from the moment. “The aliens have succeeded in their plan to overrun the world. Better luck next time.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment and mutually decide to just get dressed. Rafe’s eyes move to your neck as you remove the belt. It’s a bit red but he’s mostly focused on the teeth indents left. 

He has a smug look on his face as you both get dressed that continues once you give him the brownies. Thank god no one was in the lobby waiting to do a room because you don’t know what you would have done if there was. You couldn’t even look Rafe in the eyes after what just happened. If he thought you were shy before then this was a new level. 

Just as he was about to leave he turned back around. You are staring at the floor watching his feet to see when it’s safe to look back up. When they don’t move you reluctantly look up at him. “I might have to come back here. Never knew being locked in a room could be so fun.” With that he walks out leaving you there shell shocked.

He’s right, being locked in a room could be fun.

[lunarlilacmoon]

Bite me

What if Agatha wasn’t just a witch? What if her immortality ran deeper and little… bloodier. Vampire Agatha x reader where a fight leads you to a bar to cool down and jealous Agatha shows up to cause a scene.

Paring: Dark!Agatha x reader

Warnings: Dubcon, mommy kink, blood kink, rough sex, fingers, eating out (Agatha receiving), dumbification, dark themes. Sorry if I forgot any!

Also was not proof read so sorry for any misspelling!

My heels echoed on the sidewalk and I made my way downtown. I had stopped at a softer jazz bar to start the night but now that the liquor was running through my veins I craved chaos. The best place for that in town was the Pink Tavern. It was an extremely gay and extremely lively place. The best place for me to blow off some of my steam.

I was just approaching the club when my phone started ringing, looking down I saw Agatha’s face lighting up my phone. I hit ignore and handed my ID to the female bouncer who ushered me in.

The fight was stupid anyways and it wouldn’t have even resulted in me coming downtown if she wasn’t such a stubborn witch sometimes. She wants me home all the time, to quit my job and just hid away with her, and I love her really but I can’t throw an entire life away to stay cooped in a home like a pet.

I made my way to the bar and thankfully was quickly served.

“Can I get four lemon drop shots, two Vegas bombs, and a cherry liquor with some redbull please.” I smiled pulling my card out as he went to make my drinks.

It didn’t take long for all of my drinks to be placed in front of me and I handed my card off to him. I had two lemon shots gone by the time he handed my card and receipt to sign back.

“A pretty girl shouldn’t be drinking this all by herself, what’s got you so stressed.” A soft voice purred from behind me.

I turned slightly to see a tall red head peering down at me and for a moment I buffered.

“Girlfriend problems.” I slightly laughed out turning to take another shot.

“Ah I see, and she left you to drink them alone?” She teased

“She wishes, she doesn’t even know I’m here right now.” I fully laughed this time picturing Agatha’s even more pissed of face when she realizes I snuck out.

“What a proper brat.”

“Someone has to keep her on her toes.” I finished my lemon drop shot and my Vegas bombs and began nursing my final drink. I felt woozy on my seat and I smiled at the intoxication.

“Maybe I-” before she could finish a familiar voice cut her off.

“Should get the fuck away from her, yeah I think you should.” I turned now fully to see Agatha fuming behind me.

“Mm, well I guess I was wrong she does know I’m here.” I giggled out chugging my drink because I knew what was about to happen.

I was just about finished with it when I was yanked off my stool out of the club. I had no time to process the outside before I was shoved into her car that was parked on the side waiting. She got in without a word and began to drive.

“I didn’t get to finish my drink.” I pouted.

“You fucking brat! Is that really where your concern lies right now?” She didn’t looked away from the road but I could feel her anger radiating off her.

“I mean yeah I paid for it and I wanted to finish it!” I crossed my arm like a child as we sped out of town.

She simply huffed out an annoyed laugh and pressed the gas faster.

Before I knew it we were home and she had me out of the car and inside in record time.

“Fuck you and your stupid vampire speed.” I pushed against her chest trying to free myself from her grasp.

“Fuck me? Okay fine!” She hissed and shoved me onto my knees. She ripped her slack and panties off and grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Fuck me then you fucking brat! Use that mouth for something good!” She shoved my face against her and I started lapping.

“God yes, be good for something you useless pathetic human. You stupid pathetic girl! You’re such a whore you’d let anyone flirt with out huh?”

“I didn’t flirt-“ Her hand collided with my cheek before she shoved my face back into her.

“I didn’t ask you to fucking speak slut! Work!” She snapped rubbing herself on my face.

“Fuck yes! Right there don’t you fucking move!” She chased her orgasm on my face and rode out the last of the waves.

She yanked me up by my hair and slammed me against the kitchen table. My back pressed into the cool surface and she moved her face directly in front of me.

“You are mine. You belong to me. Body, mind and soul. I am not asking you I am telling you. If you try to ever run I will lock you away like the pet that you are. You will never escape me, your mortal body could never!” Her voice was rough but not angry. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes mommy.” I didn’t have a chance to say anything more before her fangs were sinking into my neck at the same time her fingers sank into my cunt. She bunched my dress up and began a relentless pace on my pussy. The mix of her fangs with her fingers never failed to absolutely wreck me every time.

Her teeth always added an extra layer of pleasure pulsing through my body and the warm blood trickling down my neck while she laps at it bloodying her face never fails to have me gushing.

“Fuck! Yes mommy, thank you!” I screamed out as I felt my high approaching. “Please may I come!?” I gasped out.

“No.” She laughed at my sobbing form as she completely pulled away.

“Mommy no please, come back please.” I begged.

“Bad whores get to stay needy.” She smirked her mouth painted red.

[herweirdass]

— ୨ৎ the waitress | vh

synopsis: Vinnie, captivated by a waitress, nervously returns to the restaurant to talk to her. part two here!

word count: 1.6k

Vinnie sat at the corner booth of a bustling restaurant, surrounded by his friends, but his mind was far from the conversation. He poked at his food with his fork, his eyes occasionally drifting toward the girl who was waiting tables across the room. Y/N, her name tag read. She had been their waitress earlier, and from the moment she approached their table, Vinnie had been hooked.

Her smile was soft but genuine, and the way she moved around the room with effortless grace drew his attention more than anything else. He admired how she seemed to light up even in the chaos of the busy restaurant, taking orders, balancing trays, and still managing to stay composed. Every time she spoke to them, Vinnie had been too nervous to say more than a quiet "thank you," which his friends teased him for.

"Dude, you're barely eating," Jett said, nudging him playfully. "What's up?"

"Yeah, you've been staring at the waitress since we got here," Eamon added with a smirk.

Vinnie blushed, caught in the act. "Nah, I'm just tired," he mumbled, trying to brush it off. But everyone at the table knew what was really going on.

"Why don't you just talk to her?" he suggested, grinning.

Vinnie shook his head. "I'm not going to bother her while she's working. Besides, what would I even say?"

"Maybe start with your name," Jett joked, earning a round of laughter from the group. Vinnie just smiled weakly, his gaze flickering back to Y/N as she took an order at another table. He wanted to talk to her, but the idea of stumbling through a conversation and making a fool of himself kept him quiet.

When the meal was over, and the check arrived, Vinnie discreetly pulled out a few extra bills from his wallet, adding a generous tip before they left. He watched as Y/N collected the check from their table, her eyes widening slightly at the amount. She looked around the restaurant as if wondering who had left it, but Vinnie was already out the door.---A couple of days passed, but Vinnie couldn't stop thinking about her. He replayed their brief interactions in his mind, mentally kicking himself for not at least trying to talk to her. The tip had been nice, sure, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to know her, hear her voice without the buffer of an order in between.

So, he made a decision.

One evening, after work, Vinnie found himself walking back into the same restaurant. This time, he was alone. His heart pounded as he entered, scanning the room. There she was—Y/N, still busy with tables but moving with that same easy grace.

He found a small table in the corner and sat down, fiddling nervously with the menu. He hadn't thought this through. What if she didn't even remember him? What if she was too busy to notice him? He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous, but something about her made him want to try.

A few minutes passed, and then, there she was—standing at his table with that same soft smile. "Hi, welcome back! What can I get for you tonight?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Vinnie swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of how to even form a sentence. "Uh, just...just water for now. Please," he managed to say, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he sounded.

Y/N nodded and walked away to get his drink. Vinnie's hands fidgeted with the silverware on the table, his heart racing. When she returned with his water, she placed it in front of him and lingered for a moment.

"You were here the other day, right? With your friends?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Vinnie's eyes widened in surprise. "Uh, yeah. That was me."

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling a bit. "I thought so. You left a really nice tip. Thank you for that."

"Oh, uh...yeah, no problem. I just...wanted to," Vinnie stammered, feeling his face heat up.

She laughed softly, clearly amused by his awkwardness but not in a mean way. "Well, it was appreciated. So, just water tonight, or are you hungry too?"

Vinnie cleared his throat, trying to gather some courage. "Actually, I came back because I wanted to talk to you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I didn't know how."

Y/N blinked, surprised, but her smile didn't fade. "Talk to me? About what?"

"About...uh, I don't know. You just seem really cool, and I wanted to get to know you," Vinnie said, feeling like he was tripping over every word. "But I'm terrible at this kind of stuff."

Her smile grew, and she pulled out a chair, sitting down across from him. "Well, lucky for you, I'm off in about an hour. If you can wait, maybe we can talk then?"

Vinnie's heart skipped a beat. He nodded quickly, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, I can wait."

Y/N laughed again, her eyes meeting his. "Okay, it's a deal." She stood up, giving him one last glance before heading off to finish her shift.

For the rest of the evening, Vinnie couldn't stop smiling. He had no idea what he'd say when she sat down with him later, but for the first time, he wasn't scared. He was excited.

After what felt like both an eternity and a split second, Y/N's shift finally came to an end. Vinnie had spent the last hour anxiously sipping his water, glancing at the door every time someone entered, as if he might lose his nerve and bolt at any second. But he stayed, waiting for her to finish up.

Y/N came out of the back of the restaurant, now wearing a casual jacket over her uniform and looking just as effortlessly cool as she had while working. Her hair was tied back loosely, and she still had that soft smile on her face that had captivated him the first time he saw her.

"Ready?" she asked, walking up to his table. Vinnie quickly stood up, nodding a little too eagerly.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She laughed softly. "Relax, it's just me. Let's go."

They walked out of the restaurant together, the night air cool and refreshing compared to the warmth of the bustling dining room. The streets were quieter now, lit only by the soft glow of streetlights and the occasional car passing by. Y/N glanced at Vinnie as they strolled side by side, and he couldn't help but wonder if she noticed how nervous he was.

"So, Vinnie, right?" Y/N asked, breaking the silence. "Tell me something about yourself. What do you do?"

Vinnie scratched the back of his head, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, uh, I do content creation. Like videos and streaming. It's fun, but sometimes a lot."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, so you're one of those internet-famous guys? Should I be asking for an autograph?"

Vinnie chuckled, his cheeks flushing. "Nah, nothing like that. I mean, people watch, but I'm just doing what I enjoy. What about you? How'd you end up here?"

She shrugged, kicking a small pebble as they walked. "I moved here a couple of months ago, just needed a fresh start, you know? Working at the restaurant's been alright, but I'm figuring things out."

They reached a small park nearby, its benches lined with trees swaying gently in the breeze. Without really thinking about it, they found themselves sitting down on one of the benches, side by side. The park was peaceful, the only sounds coming from distant cars and the occasional chirp of crickets. 

"I've got to say," Vinnie began, turning to face her, "I'm really glad I came back tonight."

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I'm glad you did too. I was wondering about you after the first time. I thought you'd never say anything."

"Me? I was terrified to even look at you," Vinnie admitted with a nervous laugh. "I didn't want to bother you while you were working."

"I get it, but you wouldn't have bothered me," she said, leaning in just a little. "I'm glad you decided to come back."

The night air seemed to settle around them, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Vinnie's heart was still racing, but it wasn't out of nerves anymore—it was something else, something that felt right.

"So, what now?" Y/N asked, her voice soft, almost playful.

Vinnie looked at her, really looked at her this time, without the nerves clouding his mind. She was everything he had imagined from that first moment and more—kind, funny, easy to talk to. He wanted to know everything about her.

"I don't know," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee sometime? Or, I don't know, whatever you'd want to do."

Y/N laughed softly. "Coffee sounds good. But maybe next time you won't wait so long to talk to me?"

Vinnie grinned, feeling a rush of warmth. "Deal."

They sat there a little longer, talking about anything and everything—work, life, the strange paths that had brought them both to that very moment. And as they talked, the night seemed to stretch out, peaceful and full of promise. 

By the time they finally got up to leave, Vinnie knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd see Y/N. He wasn't sure where things would go from here, but for once, he didn't feel the pressure to know. He was just happy to have taken that first step, to have broken through his fear and started something new. Something real.

And when they parted ways, he couldn't help but smile to himself, knowing that he'd be seeing her again soon.

[kathlare]

just maybe

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Between post-qualifying interviews, teasing from George, and a chance encounter outside the Racing Point garage, emotions simmer beneath the surface as Lando quietly dares to hope for something more than friendship.

Wordcount: 2.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 11th, 2020 - Spielberg, Austria

The sun beat down on the paddock, bouncing off the concrete and casting long shadows behind the media pen. Sweat beaded under the drivers’ face masks, but they were used to it now—used to the heat, the rush of adrenaline from qualifying, the endless carousel of interviews.

Lando tugged lightly at the neck of his race suit, still zipped halfway, his eyes scanning the makeshift tented area where they were herded post-quali like cattle with microphones.

George stood beside him, arms crossed, rocking back on his heels. They were both waiting to be called up again, already drained from repeating the same answers to different media outlets.

—Fucking hell, I swear if they ask me one more time if I’m happy with P6...— Lando muttered, squinting behind his sunglasses.

—...I’m gonna say, “No, Susan, I’m devastated. I wanted pole. Obviously.”— George snorted, rolling his eyes beneath his mask.

Lando chuckled under his breath, pulling at the wrist of his glove. —They love the drama. Even when there’s none.—

—Speaking of drama...— George said, tone shifting just slightly, like he couldn’t help himself.

Lando side-eyed him. —Oh god. What now? You look like you're about to burst.—

George hesitated for half a second. Then:

—Okay, fuck it, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I literally cannot hold this in. You have to promise not to say anything, alright? Not to her, not to Charles, not to anyone.—

Lando straightened slightly, suspicion creeping in. —What the fuck are you on about, Russell?—

George leaned closer, glancing around before whispering, —Amelie broke up with Joshua.—

Time stopped.

Well—not really. The media pen still buzzed. A cameraman dropped something heavy and cursed. Someone was shouting in Italian behind them. But in Lando’s head, everything slammed to a halt.

—What?— he said, too fast.

George nodded, face already split into a shit-eating grin under his mask. —Yup. Couple days ago. I overheard her talking to Charles about it. I wasn’t even trying to listen, okay? I was just... behind the truck grabbing a water, minding my business.—

—You? Minding your business? Sure.—

George ignored him. —And then I hear her say she ended it with Josh and she didn’t even cry about it. Like, dead serious. Said she thought she should feel worse, but just didn’t.—

Lando blinked, his brain still buffering.

Amelie. Single.

Amelie who used to giggle at her phone screen when Joshua texted. Amelie who once told him—after way too many late-night Discord games—that she thought maybe, possibly, Josh was safe. Whatever the fuck safe meant.

And now? Done.

—She said that?— he asked, voice lower now, throat tight.

George nodded again. —And then she said... well, this part you didn’t hear from me...— he added, even though he was absolutely the one telling him.

Lando didn’t care. —What?—

—She told Charles she thinks maybe she’d stayed with him because she didn’t know how to be alone anymore. And then she joked that at least now she can stop pretending she likes watching football.—

Lando blinked. His stomach was doing some very stupid shit. He could feel it.

George nudged him. —I promised I wasn’t gonna say anything, okay? But fuck. It's Amelie. And you... you like her.—

—George...—Lando warned.

—Don’t “George” me. You do. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Everyone has. You’re like a twelve-year-old with a crush.—

Lando shoved him, but it wasn’t convincing.

Because yeah.

He did.

And now she wasn’t dating anyone. She was... free.

And he had no fucking idea what to do with that.

—You better not tell anyone I told you,— George added, wagging a gloved finger. —I’ll deny everything. Charles will kill me. And Amelie will castrate me emotionally.—

Lando barely registered the warning. His brain was already elsewhere. Replaying all their recent moments—her head on his shoulder after dinner last night, the way her laugh had cracked when he did that stupid accent impression of Carlos, how she’d texted him a picture of her iced coffee with his name spelled wrong on it and said, “thinking of u, loser.”

He always thought he didn’t have a shot. That she was taken, that she was still figuring out how to be okay after everything, especially Cam.

But now?

Now there was a door. A crack of light.

Maybe even hope.

—Lando?— George said, waving a hand in front of his face.

Lando snapped back to reality. —Yeah. Sorry. Just... holy shit.—

George snorted again. —You’re thinking about kissing her right now, aren’t you? You disgusting simp.—

—Fuck off,— Lando muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched up.

Because yeah.

Maybe he was.

And for the first time since this whole pandemic madness started, for the first time since she came crashing into his life in a Discord call with George yelling over Fortnite and Charles lagging like hell—he felt like maybe, maybe, this could turn into something more.

And she wouldn’t have to pretend to like football anymore.

Just him.

Just maybe.

—You’re doomed, mate,— George said with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder.

—Yeah,— Lando replied, finally smiling for real. —But like... in a good way.—

Just then the media handler waved them forward, calling Lando’s name.

He stepped ahead, heart still thudding in his chest, not from qualifying, not from the cameras—no, from three words echoing in his head:

Amelie is single.

Fuck.

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

liked by lanmeliesupremacy, sunshinef1baby, and others

ameliedaymanupdates: Amelie spotted arriving at the paddock in Spielberg today for the Styrian GP!

View all 27,016 comments

dayman.demons: she steps into the paddock and the grid goes silent like it’s church → quadrantchaos: @dayman.demons only thing louder than that silence is Lando’s heart rate

ameliedaydaily: i just KNOW she smelled good walking past those cameras → georgerussellfan69: @ameliedaydaily lavender + rich girl money

sunshinef1baby: lanmelie truthers HOW WE FEELING → mclovingeverything: @sunshinef1baby emotionally unstable but hydrated

alexsbucket: imagine being a driver trying to focus and she shows up looking like THAT

paddockbarbie: no bc she walked in and the grid shifted 😭 → landoiscrying: @paddockbarbie someone check Lando’s pulse IMMEDIATELY

lanmeliesupremacy: why is lando smiling so hard today huh 😏 → mcloverrr: @lanmeliesupremacy he saw her through the garage window and forgot how to breathe

quadgirlie: she’s not even racing and still gets more airtime than half the grid 😭 → maxymaxmax: @quadgirlie give her a seat

lanmelietruthing: WHY is lando smiling more than usual this weekend 🤨 → jetlaggedjosh: @lanmelietruthing bc his lil crush is in austria again don’t play dumb → quadrantchaos: @lanmelietruthing “just friends” my ASS

sunshinewifelando: the way she walks like she owns the track??? → macnferrari: @sunshinewifelando she does. spiritually, emotionally, legally.

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

The sun had begun its slow descent behind the Styrian mountains, casting a warm gold over the Red Bull Ring. The paddock buzzed with the low hum of debriefs wrapping up, cameras being packed away, and exhausted drivers peeling off their race suits in the shade of their motorhomes. Race day was done, but Lando’s nerves still hadn’t settled.

Not because of the race. He’d done alright. P5, solid points. McLaren were happy.

But he hadn’t seen her all day.

He knew she was there—George had confirmed it earlier, smug little shit that he was—but even with all his wandering, the stolen glances down the Racing Point corridor, the excuses to swing by the hospitality areas she liked… nothing.

Not a glimpse. Not even her laugh.

So after the team debrief, when Andreas gave him a nod of dismissal and his engineer clapped him on the shoulder with a “go rest up, mate,” Lando didn’t go back to his driver room. He didn’t go for a shower. He didn’t even take off his sweaty race suit.

He walked straight toward the Racing Point garage.

And there she was.

Sitting at a fold-out table outside the garage, her back to the sun, fingers wrapped around a water bottle. Her hair was up, loose and messy in a way he knew she didn’t mean to look that effortlessly good, but did anyway. Across from her, Stella—Amelie’s older sister—sat cross-legged, sunglasses perched on her nose and the tiniest fluff of golden fur sitting contently in her lap: Stella and Checo’s over-pampered family dog.

They were laughing softly about something. Amelie gestured with one hand, the other stroking the dog's head absentmindedly. Her face was flushed from the heat, freckles out in full force, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Lando’s heart thumped stupidly.

He hesitated for a second—he didn’t want to seem like he’d sought her out (even though, yeah, he absolutely had). But then she looked up, eyes catching on him as if she’d felt him approaching before he’d said a word.

—Hey,— he said, a bit breathless. —Mind if I join?—

Stella looked up and smiled lazily. —Of course not. You’ve earned it. Fifth, right?—

—Yeah,— Lando said, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid into the seat beside Amelie, opposite Stella. —Wasn’t a bad day.—

He could feel Amelie watching him. Not cold, not distant—but a bit unreadable. Her gaze lingered for just a second too long, like she was trying to figure out why he was there, why now.

—Congrats,— she said finally, her voice low and calm, the faintest edge of amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. —Not bad for a baby McLaren.—

He scoffed, grinning despite himself. —Okay, rude. But I’ll take it.—

The dog—whose name Lando could never remember, something Spanish and dramatic—yawned dramatically on Stella’s lap, stretching tiny paws across her denim-clad thighs.

—Luna’s exhausted from all the cheering,— Stella said dryly, scratching behind the pup’s ears. —Had her little Racing Point flag and everything.—

Amelie rolled her eyes. —You mean you carried her around like a spoiled toddler all day.—

—She is a spoiled toddler,— Stella replied with a shrug. —And I love her more than I love most people. Including you. Especially when you make me sit through thirty laps of Checo barely moving up the grid.—

Amelie snorted, taking a sip of water. Lando couldn’t look away. God, he’d missed hearing her laugh.

He leaned back in the chair, letting the sun hit his face, stealing little glances at her from the corner of his eye. She looked tired, but in a soft, sun-drenched way. Like she’d been out all day, like she’d lived the day rather than just passed through it. Her lips were slightly chapped, and there was a faint smudge of mascara under one eye.

He almost said something about it. Almost. But then Stella’s phone buzzed against the table, and she glanced at it, sighing as she stood.

—Ugh. That’s Mum. Forgot to check in after the race. She’s probably convinced we’ve all been kidnapped again.— She turned to Amelie, her voice pointed. —If I’m not back in ten, it means she roped me into a FaceTime and you have to come rescue me.—

—Deal,— Amelie said, lifting her hand in a mock salute.

And just like that, they were alone.

The chatter of the paddock felt far away now, muffled under the fading hum of race day dying down. Lando shifted in his seat, fingers drumming once on the edge of the table.

This was his chance. Maybe.

He should ask something normal. How was her day? Had she seen the overtake on Lap 34? Did she still hate the paddock food?

Instead, he blurted—trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t rehearsed this in his head a dozen times:

—So... how’s Joshua?—

He felt it immediately.

The shift.

Amelie turned her head slowly to look at him, one brow arching, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Her water bottle paused midway to her lips.

—Why are you asking about Joshua?— she said flatly.

Fuck.

Too soon. Too obvious.

Lando cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. —I just... haven’t heard you mention him lately. Thought maybe he didn’t come to Austria with you, or... I don’t know.—

Her gaze didn’t waver. —You hate Joshua.—

—What? I don’t... I mean, I dislike him, but hate’s a strong word.—

—You once said he looked like if a thumb had a personality.—

Lando winced. —Okay, in my defense, that was after he called me “little man” for an entire weekend.—

She didn’t laugh. Not yet. Just stared at him with that same sharp awareness, like she was mentally combing through the conversation and cross-referencing it with everything she’d ever known about him.

—George told you, didn’t he?—

Lando froze.

Shit.

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest now, looking too pleased with herself.

—Fucking George,— she muttered.

Lando raised his hands in surrender. —Okay, yes, but he wasn’t supposed to. He said it by accident. Or, like, by... compulsion. He couldn’t help himself.—

—Mmm-hmm.—

—And I didn’t come over here just to ask you about that.—

She tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. —But you did ask.—

He hesitated. Then shrugged. —I guess I wanted to know how you’re doing.—

That, at least, softened her just a little.

She exhaled slowly, her eyes dropping to the table, fingers tracing the condensation ring from her bottle.

—It’s... fine. I’m fine. We broke up. I haven’t cried about it. I didn’t think I’d feel this okay, but I do.—

He watched her. Really watched her.

—You don’t miss him?— he asked, quieter now.

She paused, then looked up. Her voice was steady when she replied:

—No. I think I just got used to the idea of him. Of us. But that’s not the same as being happy.—

Lando nodded, his throat tight. He wanted to say something else—something dumb and reckless, like I could make you happy, or you deserve better. But instead, he smiled, soft and a little lopsided.

—So... does that mean you don’t have to pretend to like football anymore?—

Amelie blinked. Then, to his immense relief, laughed.

—God, thank fuck. You have no idea how long I sat through matches with my eyes glazed over.—

—So when you said Messi was your favorite...— he teased.

—Didn’t even know what team he was on until two months ago.—

Lando laughed too, the sound spilling easily between them now.

The sun had dipped lower, casting a golden halo around her hair, catching the glint of her earrings. She looked at him for a beat longer than she needed to. And this time, it wasn’t unreadable.

It was something else entirely.

Something that made Lando’s pulse trip in his throat.

He didn’t say anything more. Didn’t need to.

But he felt it.

The crack of light.

Still there. Still growing.

And maybe, if he was lucky...

She’d let him walk through it.

[goddessofroyalty]

Hi! Hello! I am in love with your Zaundads AU! It’s become my comfort AU in the fandom because everything else is made to inflict as much emotional damage as possible 🫠 and I eat that shit up like a starved man. Anyway, I was wondering if you happened to have “Silco giving birth to [unnamed baby girl] in his office alone” in the works at all?

Prompt Idea: We have seen the aftermath of the newest baby being born in Silco's Piltover office, what about the actual birth though? Silco trying to do his work then realizing "oh shit, this is happening". Maybe even him brushing off Vander as he gets ready to go to the office. Everything up until where chapter 22 of Zaun Family picks up?

I kept coming back to this idea so even though I’m meant to be working on other prompts I wrote this instead.  

Warnings: mpreg, omegaverse, mid-level graphic birth (not super graphic but not completely skimmed over).  

-----------

“I know, not much longer now,” Silco tells the baby now huge in his stomach as the contraction passes over him. Hopefully he won’t have another prolonged labor like with Claggor and tomorrow the whole ordeal will be over and he and Vander can hold their new son.  

He won’t be back at his office for a few days. The trip to Piltover too far to make while recovering from childbirth. So, while the contractions are still light, he might as well finish a few more tasks and make sure he as everything he might need to continue working while he rests from the birth.  

He has to brace for the next contraction. The intensity of it knocking the breath from him.  

“I take it you won’t make me wait another three days then?” Silco asks, resting a hand on his hard stomach as he catches his breathe before going back to reading the proposal he wanted sorted a week ago before Hoskel dragged his feet. If he is happy with it, he will be able to sign it tonight and leave for his assistant to file in the morning while he is busy delivering his baby.  

The contractions make it hard to focus on the words but he manages to finish it. Scribbling a note of something he would like his assistant to confirm before filing and signing it anyway to prevent any further holdup.  

“I just need to pack and then we can go home,” Silco says after another contraction.  

He swears none of the others felt this intense this early. The result of being 20 years older than his last, he supposes.  

He does try and hurry in packing his things even if he is sure there are hours still before he needs to worry. He wants to be home getting settled in his nest, not in his Piltover office where there is still the chance someone could want to talk to him about some frivolous matter that they care more about than righting the wrongs done to Zaun.  

He is doing up his satchel when the contraction is joined by the feeling of his waters giving way and him becoming aware of exactly how heavy the weight on his hips has become.  

He isn’t making it home.  

He scribbles two messages down and sends them through the Pneumatic tubes. One to the Piltover doctor he had relented and gotten to appease his family’s concerns who hopefully will be working late like Silco had and one to the Last Drop – not that he expects Vander to see it with the night rush being well underway by now.  

“Okay.” He braces against his desk as the next contraction goes through him. Immediately more intense without his waters to buffer.  

Even if the doctor sees the message it’s unlikely she will make it in time.  

He’s going to have to do this alone.  

After three births Silco can comfortably say he broadly knows what to do. Of course, the previous three all ended with either him or his pup nearly not surviving.  

There’s no time to think about that now. Not with the pressure baring down on his hips from a pup impatient to be born.  

Silco leans against his desk as he undoes his pants and kicks them off. Hissing as the next contraction hits him and he starts feeling the pressure that he knows means it will be over soon.  

“Fuck. Okay.” He grabs his coat from where it hangs on his chair, shoving it to his side so he will have something to wrap his son in when he arrives. Letting his knees give out so he’s closer to the ground and pressing his forehead against the desk before he pushes with the next contraction. Letting his head fall back after to catch his breathe.  

Two more contractions and he feels the burn of a crowning pup. Reaching between his legs to confirm it is a head crowning and not a foot.  

“Good boy,” Silco says as he moves his hand back against his desk.  

The ordeal is thankfully over quickly. A few more pushes with the contractions and he is reaching down again to help guide his baby out so he doesn’t land on his office floor. Wrapping the pup in his coat as he lets his own legs give out from under him completely, moving so his back is against the desk and he can examine his and Vander’s latest pup.  

“Ah.” It’s a girl.  

Silco barely has time to think of all the people he had told this one was definitively going to be another boy whom he will now never hear the end of it from when his new pup gives an unhappy noise at the cold office air on her damp skin. It far from the soft warmth of the nest she was meant to be born in. 

“She, it’s alright, I’m here,” Silco tells her as he wraps her more in his coat and brings her to his chest. Making sure she feels comfortable and safe despite the location far more important than his already ruined clothes. “I have you. No need to cry.”  

Once she’s settled, he adjusts his coat to cover him a bit better for when the doctor sees his message and arrives. Resting his head back against his desk as he contemplates how lucky they both were.  

If it had gone like it had any of the others- 

It hadn’t though. And he and his baby girl were alive if uncomfortable.  

There’s a knock at the door and Silco’s head shoots up at it.  

“Who is it?” If it’s some Piltite assistant here to chase him up about their bosses request he might just tell them what he really thinks of it and all their bullshit.  

“Just me,” Viktor’s voice answers. His son grumbling about Silco working so late in his current state as he opens the door.  

“Shit.” Viktor’s smart comment cuts off. Instead the sound of a cane clattering to the ground echos through the office and Viktor basically falls to Silco’s side.  

“I’m okay,” Silco promises, bringing a hand to cup the back of Viktor’s head and gentle nuzzle against his eldest’s face while his other hand holds his youngest against his chest. Trying to calm the bitter panicked edge that has taken over his son’s scent. Reassure him that everything he is likely fearing has not come to pass. “We’re okay.”   

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

54 for 🐓:

---

Because Eddie is straight. He’s a straight guy. He… Right? 

But then again…

How do you know if something is sort of gay like theoretically or actually gay?

“Can I quickly interject that I was miserable, too?” Buck says quickly.

“Yes. Yeah, uh, that’s good to know,” Eddie replies. “I mean, not good that you were miserable. But good that… That, I hope we’re on the same page.”

What page? What fucking page? Please assume Buck chose an audiobook and has no idea where he is, just what’s happened! 

“I don’t… I’m really struggling to figure myself out, here,” Eddie admits, sighing. “I’ve had a lot going opn and I maybe should devote more time to this part of myself, but… But I just know that… I can’t… I don’t want us to be apart.”

“You… You’re not just… This isn’t just a New Year’s surprise?” Buck asks. 

Eddie shakes his head. “No. You’re family. Chris and I agree.”

“You… The two of you… You came back for me?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie replies nervously. “We did. And… And I don’t want to assume how you feel… I’ve been trying to nail down how I feel…”

“Wait,” Buck says, brain buffering like a video over bad WiFi connection. “When you called me high…”

“Oh, please don’t remind me of that,” Eddie begs. 

“You were calling to ask me if you are attracted to me?” Buck gapes.

“Okay, so… I was high. Please remember I have no tolerance built up, so-”

Buck laughs, delighted. “You wanted me to, what? Give you permission to be into me?”

“Well,” Eddie’s face goes even redder. “Maybe a little.”

“Granted. Permission granted. I’ve been into you for ages and I didn’t have to apply for a permit or anything.”

Eddie’s face morphs into a relieved smile.

---

54 for ⚡️:

---

He worries that whatever happens with Bobby is going to freak Buck out. Send him into an abandonment spiral. He worries that he’ll hit a breaking point and need to leave the station. And that will inevitably hurt Buck, too. He loves his husband more than anything other than his kids. He doesn’t want to hurt him, if he can avoid it. He’s just not sure he can avoid it. 

☆☆☆

Eddie gets more answers about the future of the 118 on Bobby’s first shift back. 

It’s a strange shift in that it’s someone’s long-awaited return and Hen isn’t there. No banner. No cake. And she didn’t tell anyone.  What the actual fuck?

“She had an appointment,” Bobby waves it off when they ask. But he doesn’t explain and not even Chim has heard anything.

So…

What gives? 

Then, Bobby calls Eddie into his office. Just Eddie. No one else gets talked to. For a moment, Eddie wonders if Hen has reported to Bobby that Eddie’s apathy has only increased. That maybe he has got worse at his job. That he’s in trouble. But when Bobby sits him down across from his desk, Eddie only gets a positive feeling from him. And in eight years, Eddie’s become pretty good at reading his mood.

“So how are things, Eddie?” Bobby asks. 

“Good,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, good. Unless you ask Buck, of course. Brooke’s not eating her carrot mush, and he’s kind of turning it into a conspiracy. So, uh, maybe reassure him she won’t go blind without carrots?”

Bobby chuckles. “Okay, good to know. But I mean professionally. How are things here?”

Eddie’s expressions falls. Fuck.

“You already know, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I’d like to hear it from you anyway,” Bobby says.

“I’ve still been doing my job well,” Eddie says firmly. “Just because I’m not as enthusiastic, doesn’t mean I’m not doing a good job.”

“I know,” Bobby agrees. “No doubt about it.”

“Thank you,” Eddie exhales.

“So, then… How about this?” Bobby says. “Would you like to know where Hen is today?”

Well, this isn’t what Eddie expected. 

“Sure,” he replies. He’ll bite.  “Yeah, actually. I’m curious.”

[fatuismooches]

WAIT NOOO IF THE GAMEPLAY FOR FRAGILE!READER INVOLVES BUFFS WHEN THEY GET HURT THEIR META WOULD BE SO MEAN (ToT)

Realistically, the best artifact set for fragile!reader (and by extension Dottore) would be a set that maximises HP cause, imagine that everytime fragile!reader gets hurt, Dottore gets a buff that stacks for his turn on the field

So the Abyss gameplay would be: No shielder since you want them to take damage, and a buffer like Benny or ult buffer like Mona maybe?

Then it would play with fragile!reader running around the field, dropping their supports, basically setting up the field for Dottore and farming energy recharge and stacks as they get damaged

And the recommended style for the best DPS would be: do not switch reader out until Dottore does so himself, since the moment reader hits red bar or gets a heavy hit, he comes in

Then you just go ham with him! And imagine the cool particles he'd have— idk what they're called, effects?? He has neat effects surrounding him indicating the buff stacks he has and imagine him switching in with a furious voiceline that he snarls, and the longer he stays in the field he slowly regains HP (and by extension healing his beloved)

The showcases would be edit worthy ngl I see them vividly, so the usual Bennet -> Mona -> then Reader = really pissed off Zandik that hits 100K per tick if you build him correctly and an ult that would hit almost 1M

Pretty sure Zandik would kill the player if he could since they're using his beloved like this, but alas (；∀； ) the showcase must go on

AHHH YESSS PUTS THIS IN MY MOUTH AND EATS IT... I love this interpretation sm... I like the idea of fragile reader getting hurt to buff Dottore because that's so in line for their character... they know they can't exactly fight much anymore but they can't help but hold onto the memories of protecting him from everything during the Akademiya, so they just want to be of some use. Even if it means being on life support for the majority of the time, you'll do anything to make it bit easier for him (although it should be the other way around.)

Reader's whole kit is definitely HP-based!! HP artifacts, HP weapon, HP scaling, they are greedy and they want all the health they can possibly get!! Although one would think you want to keep all this health to yourself, considering all you've been through, you're more than willing to take all these hits and damage yourself for Zandik's sake. It's probably quite easy for you to get hit too, you have low resistance and get interrupted by heavy attacks easily. Though that doesn't stop you! Foxttore and Puffttores away!!

When your HP finally drops below a certain amount Dottore automatically switches in!! Ahh the buff visuals,, imagine instead of the yellow thingies around him the special effect is little images of Foxttore or Puffttores hehe to differentiate your buff from others ❤️ (im delusional)

YOU'RE SO RIGHT, THE SHOWCASE EDITS ON DAY ONE OF RELEASE WOULD GO SO HARD 😭 people casually hitting huge numbers at the expense of fragile reader, wondering how far they can push their buffs 💥 (this just makes me more excited for playable Dottore, i want him so bad 😭)

(Mona, in the background: *wondering how the stars got her here next to these two crazy people*)

[nexusplane]

Impromptu Date

Characters: Carlton Lassiter (Psych)

Ship: Lassiter x Reader

Word Count: 2,656

Warnings/Info: None!

A/N: Reader is gender neutral! I already have a part two idea....

When it came to lunchtime, Carlton was more than content to eat an apple at his desk and call it a day. Occasionally he had beef jerky, or maybe a handful of trail mix. Juliet enjoyed going out for lunch, and she was just the type of friendly person that invited him with her every time. One day, she just so happened to suggest a place along the boardwalk. 

It turned out to be a beautiful blessing or a horrific tragedy, he hadn’t concluded that yet. There was nothing special about the regular little burger joint—that is, except for the charming server he’d grown quite infatuated with. 

Most wouldn’t expect someone like Carlton to have a childish crush, but once he developed feelings for a person, he found he was prone to some embarrassing behaviors. For example, practically begging his partner to accompany him to that restaurant where you worked. “I’m pretty busy, Carlton,” Juliet said, her voice sounding sympathetic yet tense. “Why don’t you just go alone?” 

Carlton made a sound like he was going to pass out, hands gripping the edge of her desk. “I absolutely cannot go there alone, O’Hara!” Carlton hissed. She raised an eyebrow at him, her fingers pausing mid-typing. 

“I’m sure your favorite server will still take your order if I’m not there,” she said coyly. 

Carlton snapped upright, folding his arms over his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied defensively. Juliet smirked, turning her attention back to her computer. 

“Well then there’s no reason you can’t go alone.” The sounds of her keyboard’s sharp clicks indicated the end of the conversation. 

Carlton sighed. He had two choices; go to lunch alone and interact with you alone, or wait until next week when he knew you had another shift. He’d made note of your schedule through his various visits to the establishment. He ran nervous fingers through his hair, collapsing into his office chair as he chewed on the back of a pen. He hadn’t gone to lunch last week, so that would make this week two of not seeing you, and that was just unacceptable. 

With a defeated exhale, Carlton grabbed his jacket and made his way for the door. Getting the chance to talk to you again outweighed the nausea inducing anxiety regarding the fact he wouldn’t have Juliet as a buffer. He got in his car and drove the couple minutes it took to get to the little restaurant on the boardwalk. He checked his hair in the rearview mirror, combing through it with his fingers and adjusting his tie before exiting the vehicle. 

It occurred to him you could have taken the day off, or gotten sick, and then this entire trip would have been for naught. 

He entered the glass doors and seated himself where he and Juliet always sat, as if you would miss him if he were just a table over. It was almost empty, only two other tables hosting small groups of people. The restaurant was pleasant if not boring—mildly decorated with a few fake plants in the corners. If not for you, he wouldn’t have returned there nearly as often. 

Relief soothed his anxious chest when you emerged from the back kitchen, your eyes locking onto his table as you walked towards him. Your uniform was clean and ironed, a black apron tied at your waist. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lassiter!” You greeted. Your eyes glanced at the empty chair across from him. “Miss O’hara isn’t with you today?” 

“Oh—no. She’s very busy today,” he explained. “You know, you can call me Carlton.” He felt a bit embarrassed to offer it, but he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to hear you call him by his name. 

A small smile spread on your lips, giving him a little nod. “Oh, thank you. I’m gonna assume you want the chicken sandwich again?” You asked. Carlton couldn't suppress a pleased smile, giving you a sound of affirmation. 

He didn’t even need a menu at that point, you knew exactly what he ordered. He tried not to overthink it, but it had to mean something that you had it memorized, right? You turned on your heel, disappearing into the kitchen. Carlton folded his hands on the placemat in front of him. If Juliet were here this was the point she would start covertly encouraging him to ask for your number, or she’d make a comment on how your hair or uniform looked that day. ‘Oh, they smell so nice today, don’t you think, Carlton?’ To which he would feign ignorance. 

The lack of conversation acted as fuel to the flames of overthinking. Did I really come here to reach a first name basis and eat an overpriced sandwich? He let out a deep sigh, gritting his teeth as the waiting period stretched on. Why hadn’t O’Hara just come with him? He was no good one-on-one, he had consistently scared away any potential partners after just one date. 

Ah, well, there was one blessing, at least. This was nothing like a date–you were just taking his order and bringing it to him. He wouldn’t be expected to have a consistent back-and-forth with you, which was his shining silver lining. 

He wished he could say his eyes hadn’t shot straight up to find you when he heard the kitchen doors open, but he would be lying. You were carrying the familiar sight of his typical order, steam rising from it enticingly. You set it down in front of him, along with a black coffee. He thanked you, complimenting how delicious it looked as if you had cooked it. “I hope you enjoy,” you said with a smile. 

You turned around, and he felt a pang of disappointment. So that was it, huh? He’d eat this pretty mediocre sandwich, leave a twenty on the table, and go back to work? 

“Hey!” Another employee called out your name, popping their head out from a little window looking into the back kitchen. “Why don’t you go on lunch?” The older woman plopped a black lunch bag on the windowsill, a peculiar look on her face that Carlton couldn’t decipher. It seemed to be playfully cunning?

You approached the window, taking what must be your lunch box into your hands. “Oh, thank you!” You said. 

The other employee nodded, her eyes glancing back to Carlton, who froze under her gaze. “Why don’t you keep Detective Lassiter company?” She suggested, eyebrows raised connivingly. 

Your posture stiffened, and you rapidly glanced between Calrton and the older employee, mouth slightly agape. He couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on your cheeks, and he didn’t know if he should look at you, your coworker, or the sandwich. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” you stammered. 

Your coworker was quick to respond. “He’s a public hero,” she said, only a tiny bit sarcastically. “You’re going to make him eat alone?” Her tone was obviously meant to make you feel guilty, tilting her head in a mocking way. 

Carlton nervously gestured to the empty seat. “You wouldn’t be imposing!” He added hastily. 

Your body language implied you shot a glare at your coworker, who only gave you a faux-sweet smile, disappearing once more. You slowly sat in the chair, setting down your lunch box before untying your apron to hang off the back of the chair. Carlton took a huge bit of his sandwich, eager to have an excuse not to say anything first. “Thank you for inviting me to sit,” you said quietly. “Or, accepting my manager’s invitation for me to sit.” Your manager, he thought. I wonder why their manager wants us to sit together? He patted his mouth with a napkin, nodding slowly at you. 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he brushed off, taking a small sip of the hot coffee. “I’m happy to have your company-company, I mean. I’m happy to have some company.” He balled his fist beside his chicken sandwich, fingernails digging into his palm. Nice going, he thought sarcastically. 

You began to unpack the lunchbox, a small red flush on your cheeks. “Well, I’m glad…” you trailed off, setting a few items on the table. Carlton couldn’t help but take note of what you were eating. He was a detective, he had a mind for the little details. 

“You don’t eat the food here?” He asked, taking another bite of his sandwich. Taking a bite answered his own question. The food here was good, not great. Without you, he wouldn’t eat there nearly as much as he did, if ever. 

You popped the lid off a tupperware container, taking a homemade sandwich into your hands. “Oh, no. I just prefer my own food,” you answered. “Must be easier to go out to eat, working as a detective and all. I imagine you don’t get a lot of time at home?” You took half the sandwich, and Carlton concluded you must have cut it for yourself at home. I want you to cut my sandwich into two triangles… he thought, feeling a tiny bit pathetic about it. 

He gave a noncommittal shrug. The truth was he had practically doubled the amount of times he went out of the office for lunch since meeting you, but that wasn’t something he would readily admit. “Uh, yeah…” he picked at one of his fries, his tie feeling oddly tight the more he spoke with you. “I tend to work late a lot.” 

You gave an understanding nod, your gentle gaze oddly feeling like a ton of bricks on his body. “That’s one of the good things about this job, I always know when I’m going home,” you said. You paused, and he tried to read the expression on your face. You looked like you wanted to say something, but were struggling to come up with the words. “I- uh, don’t know how your job is…” you started shyly. Carlton couldn’t help but lean in a little, eagerly anticipating what in the world you were going to say. “But you must deal with a lot of interesting stuff with your work.” 

Oh thank fucking god. If there was one thing Carlton knew how to talk about, it was his job. He straightened up a little, unable to hide his satisfied and proud smile. “Oh, well, you know… I guess so,” he said. “It’s a tough job but… someone has to do it.” The line came across more practiced than he would have liked. 

You had finished half your sandwich, drinking from a crinkled plastic water bottle with interested eyes. “I can only imagine…” You shifted in your seat, that same curious look on your face. You rested your elbows on the table and leaned towards him. “What’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened?” 

Now this Lassiter could do. He abandoned his sandwich in kind, hastily rattling his brain for his most impressive story. He had to get this one right, he had to choose something interesting but not too gorey (as he so often did)--and one where he seemed particularly heroic. After all, he was still establishing a first impression with you. He finally settled on a story from one of his first cases with O’Hara, using her presence in the story as a crutch whenever he felt awkward. 

It was clear you were one of those types interested in thriller stories like this from the way you nodded along to his words. He found himself pleasantly surprised how interested you were. Many times on actual dates the individual had excused themselves to the bathroom before promptly escaping through the window. But here you were–sitting across from, pressing him for details. “It sounds like a TV show,” you remarked, absent-mindedly rotating your sandwich in your hands with little interest in it. 

Carlton wanted to offer his fries, but didn’t know how. He gently nudged the plate towards you, rotating it so they were easy-access to you. “Uhm, would you like one? I never finish them.” They were going to get cold, and as a result of an engaging conversation, no less! 

He was pleased when you accepted him on his first offer, scooting your chair closer to the table. “Oh, thank you so much,” you said. He took another bite of his sandwich, the two of you taking a small moment of silence to eat. “These fries are the best thing we have. No offense to your usual, of course.” 

Carlton shook his head, swallowing before he spoke. “None taken, it’s really not even that good.” “Oh, why do you come here so much then?” 

He froze in his seat, his stomach dropping as he realized he backed himself into a corner. Because it’s close? It wasn’t. Because it’s quiet? Usually not. Because you’re here. Way too honest!

“Uhh… well, I…” he stammered, eyes averting your gaze. “It’s… got excellent staff,” he settled. He gave you a nervous, shaky smile. It was a good sentiment–slightly intimate but not too overt. 

You seemed to think about it for a moment, slowly smiling to yourself. You slowly started to pack your things back into your lunchbox, and the pit in his stomach returned again. He must have come across as truly creepy to have made you want to immediately leave. 

You suddenly reached down into your apron pocket, pulling out a small notepad with a pen. “Well, then why don’t we get somewhere else to eat…” you scribbled some numbers down onto the piece of paper before ripping it out, extending to Carlton. “Does that sound good?” 

He stared at the paper, realizing the random numbers could only be your phone number. Carlton quickly glanced between the paper and your face. Realizing he’d been stammering nonsense for far too long, he snatched the paper, giving you a bright grin. “Yes! I’ll give you a call… how about this weekend?” 

You zipped the sides of your lunchbox up, a pleased smile on your face. “That sounds wonderful.” You rose to your feet, sliding the chair back into the table. “It’ll be a good second date.” You turned on your heel, disappearing into the back kitchen as he sat there utterly stunned. Second date…? His eyes examined the table like it was a crime scene, replaying the events of your impromptu lunch together in his mind. 

A small grin spread across his face, and he looked down at your phone number again. He took some cash out of his wallet, leaving it on the table as he always did before exiting the restaurant. Carlton drove back to the SPBD in a notably good mood, whistling when he walked up the concrete steps all the way back to his desk. Had the office been cleaned while he was away? Because it suddenly smelled as fresh as the first day of spring. 

O’Hara dropped a stack of folders on his desk, folding her arms over her chest with an inquiring expression. “So, how’d lunch go?” She asked, smiling at him with an expectant tone. Carlton leaned back in his office chair, pleased to have good news to share about a first date for the first time since he’d known Juliet. 

He held up the piece of paper between two fingers. Juliet gasped, taking it from him and inspecting it close. “Oh my god, and it looks like a real number!” She exclaimed. 

Carlton grabbed the note from her impatiently. “Of course it’s a real number…” he grumbled. He smoothed the note out on his desk, knowing he’d need to put it into his phone before he lost it. Juliet gave him a friendly touch on his arm. 

“That’s incredible, Carlton. I hope it goes well.” 

They slowly started to transition to a case they were working on, the details of his lunch with you would have to wait until later. He found himself uncharacteristically distracted, already anticipating his second date that upcoming weekend. 

[salternateunreality2]

Highlights of: Cloud was actually raised by wolves + Zakkura AU

TW: scary wolf pictures

from a conversation with the lovely @strayheartless

Angeal giving Zack the most bombastic side eye when Zack talks about Cloud's wolf traits.

He loves Zack so much because Zack GETS things.

Cloud lovingly chewing on Zack's shirt.

Zack accurately discerning what different grunts mean.

Cloud ducking his head to Zack and only Zack; in human, this is shy/flirty/awkward/cute/ashamed, in wolf it's respect.

Cloud's hair bristling. How he does this is anyone's guess.

Headbutts. So many headbutts.

Play fighting that looks completely vicious and feral to outsiders.

Cloud panting when he's nervous, so everyone thinks he's just hot all the time because he's from Nibelheim.

Cloud vibrating or sneezing when Zack walks up as a friendly move.

Cloud bopping people with his paws, er, gloved hands. He had to really concentrate and learn how to punch instead of bopping, but he's great at both now.

Cloud leaning on Zack instead of hugging him.

Sefikura's first meeting being extremely quiet and tense, but eventually they come to an understanding.

Zakkura's first kiss... They both lean in close, stars in their eyes....and Cloud licks Zack's teeth.

Angeal finding Zakkura sleeping in the cutest puppy pile ever.

Cloud sleeping with his limbs all twisted together or curled up into a tiny ball.

Cloud watching Zack eat fries out of the corner of his eye. Zack watching Cloud eat chicken the same way. Both of them instantly caving and sharing.

Cloud being a good Nibel boy and not wanting to come inside if there's even a hint of snow outside, and Zack being the "shorts, no shirt, all weather" frat boy.

Cloud being an escape artist and dragging Zack with him.

Lots of bite marks on people who try to steal Cloud's food.

Very shiny and sharp teeth.

These interactions:

Heidegger: look at me when I'm talking to you, cadet!!!

Cloud: 👁️👁️

Zack: shit shit shit shit shit *running across the room to de-escalate*

---------

Genesis: it seems your friend is friendly with me, he hasn't made a single growl at me! I can see his eye so clearly! And his posture is great!

Zack: SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

Cloud: 0.3 seconds away from biting

---------

Siren: wooooooo

Cloud: *looks uncomfortable*

Siren: wooooooo

Angeal: don't do it, I believe in you!

Cloud: *sweating*

Siren: wooooooo

Cloud: WOOOOOOOOO

Zack: WOOOOOOOO

Angeal: *sigh* maybe next time

-----------

Roche: your boyfriend has a cute smile

Zack: excuse me what

Roche: look, there he goes again!

Cloud: *baring teeth*

Zack: shit shit shit...

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

Angeal, Zack, and Cloud standing around a campfire, and...

Zack: ...

Angeal: ...

Cloud: ....

Zack: we should go pee in a perimeter to scare off wild animals and monsters

Cloud: *nodding*

Angeal: ...

Zack: *unzzzzziiippp*

Cloud: *starts wandering towards the perimeter*

Angeal: *finally stops buffering* WAIT NO

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kinktober 2023 Pt. 1 - Dave York (Somnophilia, Frottage, Virginity)

Masterlist

AO3 link

Summary: It's Dave's birthday, and you have a present for him. Then again, maybe it's more for you.

This fic covers days 2 and 7 of @absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 challenge.

Dave York x Virgin!Reader (babysitter)

Word Count: 4.2k

Notes: Me: Ok, I can do this, I can write some smutty little kinktober drabble, no problem! Also me: Writes 2500 words of backstory and character development before a stitch of clothing even comes off.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Explicit smut. Cheating, infidelity (it's the York's y'all, come on, is it even Dave York fanfic if one or both of them aren't banging somebody else?). Age gap (Reader is 21, Dave is in his 40's). Virgin (but not inexperienced) Reader. Consensual Somnophilia. "Just the tip" (but like actually tho). Frottage. Vaginal and clitoral stimulation (aka pussy rubbing). Accidental creampie (whoops). Drug use, kind of? (just over the counter sleep aids). Dave York is his own warning. Uh.. if I've forgotten anything, lmk. I think I've given away half the story already in the tags! At least you know what you're in for ;)

There was an excitement thrumming through your veins as you sat in the living room waiting for the York’s to get home, not really paying any attention to what was playing on the TV because your mind was elsewhere.

The two children you were caring for, Molly and Alice, have long since been tucked into their beds and asleep and now you were just waiting for their parents to get home. They typically weren’t gone for more than a few hours. It didn’t need to be said that that was more than they could stand of each other if their children weren’t there to serve as buffers, that much was obvious to just about anyone who spent enough time around Carol and Dave. Apparently however just not to their friends who they had to go out with and appease, pretending their marriage was still perfect. That’s where the York’s found themselves this Saturday night, out with friends celebrating Dave’s birthday that was coming up in a few days.

It was a good job for you though, Mr. York always paid you handsomely. Anytime you’d come over to babysit he’d leave the same amount of money in an envelope on the kitchen counter for you. A fifty dollar bill for you to order food for yourself and the two girls (which was way more than enough, even with the delivery charges and tip, to cover anything the three of you could eat) and a crisp hundred for yourself for your services which you thought was way too high, considering they were never gone more than 2-3 hours. The first couple times you’d tried to give him the change from dinner but he’d shoved the twenty back into your own palm and told you to keep it so now you’ve stopped trying to argue and typically walk away with at least $120.00 a night, which was pretty good for a 3 hour gig for a 21 year old who lives at home while attending school. You didn’t know what Dave York did for a living - something in government, you think - but apparently whatever it was it paid extremely well.

The hard rain coming down outside was hitting the large windows of the York’s extravagant home in sheets and truth be told you were more than glad that there was practically a hurricane going on outside. It actually fit into your plans perfectly so you just watched the storm rage on outside from your comfortable seat on the sofa, a small smile on your face while you waited for your employers to get home.

Within minutes you heard the loud hum of the garage door opening up signaling the York’s arrival and you clicked off the TV, pretending to be interested in something on your phone and acting casually as a minute later you heard the door connecting the house to the garage open and Carol and Dave spilled inside.

“Oh my God it’s madness out there” Carol practically shrieked and Dave immediately shushed her loudly, reminding her of their sleeping children and Carol put a hand over her mouth but laughed uncontrollably still.

Yep, she was wasted, as usual.

“Oh hi, Mr. and Mrs. York” you greet them sweetly, standing up from the couch and coming over to the hallway leading to the entryway where they were taking off their soaked jackets, likely from their walk from whatever restaurant they had been at to their car.

“Oh hi sweetie. How were the girls?” Carol managed to ask, you’re not sure how she got the words out, given the way Dave was literally having to hold her up by her elbow just so she could kick her shoes off.

“Oh they were great, as always” you promise. And they were, Molly and Alice were rarely any trouble. This was by far the easiest babysitting gig you’d ever had.

“Pay the girl David, I need to go to bed” Carol groaned, leaning into her husband’s shoulder for support. Dave rolled his eyes. First of all, he had already paid you at the beginning of the night, like he always had and you’d think his wife would know that by now, and secondly he absolutely did not like how she was all but dismissing you without even thanking you or saying more than five words to you.

“Um, Mr. and Mrs. York,” you cut in, before Dave has a chance to say anything. “I was thinking, you know, the rain is coming down really bad and I don’t really like driving late at night as it is, I thought maybe I could stay over?” You asked politely. You’ve done it numerous times on occasions that they were sure they’d be home late, they had offered you their spare room in the basement so you could go to sleep once the girls were in bed if you had wanted to. Most times when you stayed over it was because you were already asleep when they’d gotten home, but on a couple occasions you’d stayed over even when you were still awake when they got in just because of how late it was.

“Sure, whatever sweetie” Carol waved a flippant hand at you.

“Of course you can” Dave finally spoke, his voice louder and firmer than Carol’s. Dave rarely came home with more than a drink or two under his belt because he typically drove. You also got the feeling that he knew he had to have all his wits about him when out with his wife so he could be a glorified babysitter himself.

“Thank you, Mr. York” you said his name sweetly, a coy smile playing on your lips that went unnoticed by Carol but intentionally noticed by Dave.

You left Dave to wrangle Carol up to bed and made your way down to the basement, getting ready for bed and then pulled your phone out to type out a quick text to the man of the house before you tried to get some sleep.

Cum see me l8r. Got a present for you to unwrap😉. You know the rules. xxx

You took a breath. You were excited and yet nervous, never having done anything like this, specifically, before. You reach over to the night stand and pick up the small white tablet, pop it into your mouth and wash it down with some water before you lay down on the bed and wait (im)patiently for sleep to take over.

Dave’s phone pings in his pocket once he’s finally gotten Carol into bed. She was tugging at his tie and belt and trying to drag him into the bed with her, mumbling something incoherently about a “birthday blowjob” and he could do little but roll his eyes. He was in no mood to have his completely drunken wife undoubtedly fall asleep on him with his cock half way down her throat. Besides the fact that he knows exactly where her mouth has been the last eight months or so which had been the final nail in the coffin that was once their active sex life.

So instead he leaves her there and heads off into the ensuite to shower, pulling out his phone to check his text from you along the way and smirking to himself when he reads it. He doesn’t reply. He rarely does. Sometimes it’s a power move. He likes you to squirm, wondering if he’s read it, what he’s thinking, if he’s as insatiable in his desire for you as you are for him. Mostly he doesn’t reply though because he doesn’t like paper trails. Not that he thinks you would, but the last thing he needs is you screenshotting your conversations with him and sharing them around with your friends or something.

Dave brushes his teeth, gets into the shower, then heads down to the kitchen to relax for a bit, sipping a beer and catching some highlights on SportsCenter. He doesn’t want to seem too eager and part of him likes to keep you waiting. Finally after a couple of hours have passed since he received your text he clicks off the TV and goes in search of you.

He moves through the basement rec room and to the closed bedroom door, pulling the small key out of the pocket of his sweatpants and using it to let himself inside, ensuring to lock it behind him. He’s the only one with a key to unlock the door from the outside so he doesn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting anything.

He makes his way over to the bed where you’re lying on your back. There’s a bedside lamp that’s turned on to its highest setting so he has no trouble making anything out in the room, he assumes it's intentional.

“Naughty girl” Dave mutters to himself when he sees what’s waiting for him. You’re lying there perfectly asleep on top of the bedclothes wearing nothing but a tiny camisole and simple yellow cotton panties with a small pair of red cherries right in the center like a goddamn bullseye and a tiny little tied red bow at the top.

Got a present for you to unwrap. Your words ring in his head and he’s half hard already just from looking at you.

He assesses the rest of the room and his eyebrow raises when he sees what’s on the bedside table, a tiny blue box with the logo “Sleep-Eze” on it and a half drank glass of water.

“Jesus Christ” Dave huffs out a breath, pushing a hand through his hair.

You had a conversation recently one night when you were lying in bed together the last time you had stayed over at his house and he came to see you (as he always had). You had confessed that a fantasy of yours was to wake up to having an orgasm. Dave was hesitant at first, for multiple reasons. One he didn’t like the idea of getting off on someone who was effectively unconscious, and two he argued that you’d wake up way too easily if he was doing his job well enough.

You told him you’d figure out a way to help with the second problem which, Dave presumed, was the reason for the sleeping tablet. And as for the first, you told him if he really wasn’t comfortable he didn’t have to, it was just something you had always wanted to try but had never trusted anyone else to do it.

And you did, trust him. The last line of your text, ‘you know the rules’, he did know the rules. Well, rule. It was really just one when it came to you.

No penetration.

At least, not with his cock. You weren’t a total prude or anything but you were a virgin (hence the cherry panties he supposed… cute little vixen). You grew up in a very religious household and although you didn’t quite believe in waiting until marriage like your parents had taught you to, you did want to wait until it could be with someone you loved and that just hadn’t happened to you yet. Still, despite this, you were sexually active in plenty of other ways that certainly seemed to keep Dave satisfied enough. For now anyway. You worried he might get bored of you but it hadn’t happened yet and it’s been nearly six months. Despite his aggressive and controlling behavior in bed he always respected your one rule and didn’t pressure you to cross it with him. He probably knew that before long you’d be begging him for it anyway and he was probably right. Your resilience was waning a lot. And it wasn’t just the sexual desire, though that was obviously a huge part of it, but you felt a connection to Dave you had yet to find with anyone else you dated, especially boys your own age who were exactly that - boys.

Dave was sweet to you when you least expected it. When you’d aced your midterm paper that you had spent weeks agonizing over, a dozen roses showed up at your parents doorstep the next day with a card nestled inside with a single phrase written on it. “So proud of you. D.”

When you had briefly mentioned one night that you desperately wanted tickets to the Taylor Swift concert but weren’t willing to fork over your entire college fund to get them, the next time you had come over to babysit in addition to the usual $150.00 in the envelope on the counter there was a pair of tickets to the Eras Tour Boston show with a small note stuck to it in Dave’s familiar scratchy handwriting “take one of your girlfriends, and have fun sweetheart”. You idly wonder who he had to kill to get them.

Then there was the day your brother had been shipped off to his first tour of Active Duty and you couldn’t be emotional about it in front of your parents because you had to “be strong for your brother” (their words). You had texted Dave when you finally couldn’t be in that house another minute pretending your whole world hadn’t just changed and he had picked you up from the corner of your street, driven to a secluded parking lot and pulled you into the back seat with him where he just held you for hours while you cried in his arms. You told him stories of your childhoods growing up, how close you’d been and how he was your best friend and whole world; your port in the storm against your strict parents and the only person who truly understood you. Dave sat there calmly, listening to every word, brushing a comforting hand through your hair or occasionally pressing his lips to your temple when another wave of tears hit you. He promised you that you never had to be brave or strong in front of him if you didn’t want to be, he would be there to hold you up. Be your strength when you had none left to give.

And when you had told Dave about a guy that had gotten a little too “handsy” with you at a Frat party - despite you repeatedly asking him to leave you alone - well, come to think of it, you’d actually never seen Thomas again after that night. You safely assume Dave had something to do with it though.

So yes, Dave was much more than just a warm body to you, and you for him, you presumed, and there was no one else you trusted with your body like you trusted Dave.

“Fuck” Dave muttered, hand coming down involuntarily to palm over the bulge growing beneath the elastic waistband of his sleep pants. You looked goddamn adorable when you were sleeping, Dave noticed immediately. Little mouth half open, head rolled to the side with your hair spilling over the pillows, and the rise and fall of your chest putting your perfect round tits on display for him under the threadbare top.

Apparently getting over the first hurdle was going to be easier than Dave thought.

He pulled his sweats down and kicked them off, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs and t-shirt and crawled onto the bed on his knees until he was between your legs, sitting back on his heels. He began by experimentally running his left hand down your leg all the way to your calf and then back up to your thigh, waiting to see if you’d stir at all and - nothing. Your breathing never faltered, body never twitched, and satisfied, Dave moved on to what he knew you were waiting for.

He started slowly, gently. He brought his hand to rest on your hip and his thumb reached down to stroke you over top of your underwear, pushing all the way down into your slit and back up and repeating the motion over and over again for a minute or so until he began to feel the unmistakable wetness begin to pool behind the thin cotton barrier.

“Good girl” Dave hummed to himself, then brought two fingers down on top of where your clit would be and began rubbing tight circles around it. Your hips jerked slightly and he stopped immediately like a deer caught in headlights, eyes shooting up to yours only to find you still fast asleep and he let out a relieved breath. It was just your body reacting to his touch but thankfully he hadn’t woken you. He knew what you wanted and he wanted to give it to you and he knew he had a long way to go before he brought you to a peak so it was far too soon to have you waking up already.

“That’s it baby” Dave praised when a little whimper left your lips but you simply snuggled further into your pillow. “Back to sleep”

After another couple minutes of soft caresses of his fingers he took his hands away momentarily to grab for one of the decorative pillows that had been tossed carelessly aside and he carefully lifted your hips to settle it underneath you, raising you slightly for him so he wouldn’t throw his back out leaning over you for what he wanted to do next - for what he knew you were waiting for him to do.

Once he’s got you in the position he wants he hastily tugs down his boxers, shuffles closer towards you on his knees and groans when he takes his own length in his hand. He’s painfully hard already and his head is weeping precum and he hisses through his teeth when he loosely grips his cock and starts pumping his hips, effectively fucking his own hand while the head of dick pushes into your still clothed sex.

“Oh fuck,” he groans. The combination of your own wetness and his leaking tip have caused a giant wet spot on your panties, leaving them basically transparent as he continues dragging his cock through your folds over your underwear.

This had quickly become your favorite thing to do with Dave, once he had tried it once, promising you he wouldn’t go inside but just wanting to be close to you. He’d rub your pussy with his cock until you came - which never took long - and you’d practically begged him to do it every time you were together since. It was near fucking torture for Dave, being so goddamn close to burying his cock deep inside you like he so desperately wanted to. He could do it. It would be so fucking easy. Especially right now. But he wouldn’t. If there was one thing Dave had in spades, it was self control.

Dave checks in with you again, makes sure you’re still asleep and you are, though your face is a little scrunched up now, not as peaceful looking. It looks like you’re dreaming and are a little unsure of what exactly is going on. He knows he probably doesn’t have a lot of time left to get you to cum before you wake up so he moves on to the final stage. He slips his dick under the soaked piece of cotton through the side and continues his little thrusts with his hands now resting on the insides of your thighs and not able to help the moan that escapes him when his dick finally makes contact with your naked cunt.

“Mmmmm” you hum sleepily, somewhere between completely dead to the world and barely awake.

Dave vaguely hears you beginning to stir, the sound of his cock pushing in and out of your sopping core filling his ears and causing his brain to nearly stop functioning with how fucking turned on he is. His tip brushes against your clit with every push of his cock and he has to close his eyes and focus on his breathing so he doesn’t come before you do.

“Ohhhhhh” you whine breathily, being dragged a little closer to consciousness.

It’s the softest fucking sound he’s ever heard and he nearly comes at the sound of your desperate, meek little whimper.

“Oh fuck, Baby, wake up” Dave groans, slightly picking up the pace that his cock slides in and out of your folds.

“Dave?” you mutter, confused as your eyes try desperately to blink open. “Oh. Oh fuck, Oh Dave!” It hits you like a fucking brick wall. You're suddenly completely alert as the pleasure centers in your brain finally start firing on all cylinders again and you’re painfully aware of how incredibly turned on you are. Not to mention how close you are.

“Sweetheart, oh fuck” Dave is close to losing it himself from above you. His hand leaves your thigh to yank your panties to the side and then he grabs his dick with the other to control his movements. He watches his cock rub up and down through your swollen lips and push into your clit, repeating the pattern over and over and over and soon enough you're rocking your hips in rhythm with him.

“Oh my God, Dave. Fuck, fuck, fuck” You cry out. He feels fucking incredible and you’re desperately close to coming, you can feel it flooding your lower abdomen, the dam about to burst. You push up on your elbows, you want to watch as Dave’s cock slides through you.

“Fuck, wish I could be inside you” Dave groans. He knows it's not fair of him to say it when you’re both so worked up like this but he’s never wanted it more than in this moment.

“Yesssss, fuck, me too Dave. Wanna come on your big fat cock baby” you mewl desperately, clutching at the sheets.

“Fuck baby don’t say shit like that” Dave scolds. It was one thing to playfully tease, but saying that to him knowing full well he couldn’t do anything about it was downright cruel.

“Baby, fuck, I’m serious” you whine. “Wanna feel you inside me, just a little bit, please baby? Just the tip? I need it”

“Oh fuck” Dave literally growls like you’ve never heard before and then he pushes inside you for the first time, just the head, like you asked, and you instantly fall apart. Your walls squeeze around his tip like an unrelenting vice grip and your juices flood his cock and seconds later you feel his own hot spend painting your walls as he shudders over you and grips your hips so tightly you know they’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“Oh shit, oh shit shit shit!” Dave curses at his own stupidity and lack of control but can do little about it as he continues to spurt rope after rope of his cum inside you.

“Oh my god, Dave” you sigh dreamily, falling back onto the bed and not only unbothered, but blissfully pleased at Dave’s little indiscretion. You’ll take a Plan B in the morning, you’re far from worried about it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” Dave pants breathlessly as he finally pulls his spent cock out of you and runs his hands through his hair and then rubs them over his face and groans.

“Baby, come here” you insist, reaching up to pull him down on top of you and you’re surprised at how easily he allows it to happen.

“Hey, it’s ok” you assure him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and petting a hand through his hair.

“I shouldn’t have-” he begins to protest as he pushes himself up on his elbows, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I wanted you to. Baby that was…” you trail off, literally unable to put into words how good he made you feel and so you opt instead to pull his head back gently and kiss him passionately. After a few seconds of trying to resist you, Dave succumbs to the kiss and opens his mouth to you, tongue pushing inside and melding with yours.

You pull apart only when the need for oxygen overwhelms you both and Dave rests his forehead on yours, gently shaking his head.

“You’re fucking incredible, do you know that?” He says sincerely and a blush rises in your cheeks.

“You’re not so bad yourself” you tease.

“I just had my dick inside you” Dave states like he’s reading the morning headlines.

“I remember, I was there” you giggle and he huffs a laugh in return.

“Are you um… ok?” He asks sincerely, bringing a hand up so his finger can lightly trace your jawline, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret.

“More than ok” you promise, raising your head slightly to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“You sure? You don’t hate me?” He asks and you can barely believe your ears, maybe you were still high from the sleeping pill.

“Hate you? Baby you literally just made my wildest fantasy come true”

“Really?” Dave asks, eyebrow raised. “It was uh… what you wanted?”

“It was everything I wanted and more” you promise.

“Come here” you murmur, pulling him down to kiss you again.

You kiss unhurriedly for several minutes, just reveling in the taste of each other and the closeness you feel to one another.

“Happy birthday Baby” you hum against his lips when you finally break the kiss and Dave lowers himself from his elbows to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“Best birthday ever Sweetness” he murmurs into your throat.

Tagging @nerdieforpedro, @chronically-ghosted @macabremads

[thesimplicityofchance]

Solo leveling - THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY THEY REALLY JUST WENT THIS FUCKING HARD EP ONE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I AM JUST LIKE SPEECHLESS

Headhunted to Another World - what the fuck even is this idk if i like it but it might become a fav

I'm a Noble on the Brink of Ruin, So I Might as Well Try Mastering Magic - This one looks like its going to be super amazing ! I'm loving it

I Left my A-Rank Party to Help My Former Students Reach the Dungeon Depths! - I think youll really like this one ! I'm really liking how its animated

Bogus Skill <> ~About that time I became able to eat unlimited numbers of Skill Fruits (that kill you) - This is probably gonna be my fav after solo this season

ZENSHU - WHAT IN THE FUCK !!! Watch how insane this is

Honey Lemon Soda - ohhhhh my fucking heart

THESE ARE JUST FUCKING AMAZINGGGGG!!!

Omg I know solo leveling is so fucking good!!! The animation is awesome. It looks like they are toning down some of the more really brutal aspects of his character. But I understand that with how audiences can be for tv. Also I love that we are getting more bits of the other character. That was something they said they were gonna add which makes me glad to see!

Headhunted to another world is so cute! I wasn't expecting so much of a romance element to it. But I am very here for it!

The noble on the brink of ruin one got so so much more interesting on the third episode. I hope they get the heir thing handled quickly in it. Since his brother is kind of stupid or maybe have his brother just learn to be a better person that would be cool too haha. But I ain't holdin out hope.

I left my a ranked party instantly got me when they mentioned the live streaming aspect of dungeon crawling. Also like just straight up fuck his first party. Like what ?!?!?! Oh hey let's not give money to our main support and buffer. Oh let's let him quit too, surely we won't become a laughing stock and fail 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️. I can't wait to see their faces in episode 2 when we get the reactions to his solo boss clear. 😤

All I got to say about bogus skill is it's super good. I wanna see his next skill. AND WHAT IS THAT NUN PLANNING why does she give off movie gangster vibes 😭. She's like definitely evil or super worried about some prophecy.

I haven't watched zenshu i did check it out it's interesting 🤔.

You should check out the first episode for the red power ranger isakai. It. Is. Going. To. Be. Fuckin. Ridiculous. And I swear if they pull some rug slip super sad episode 8 on me like with Dan Da Dan I am gonna lose it 😂.

[hauntedhokage]

PART 02: Introductory Lunch

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

SUMMARY: 

You meet Bakugou for lunch at his request. 

You regret meeting Bakugou for lunch much to your own chagrin.  

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

‘Have lunch plans?’

The text isn’t one you’d expect from Bakugou. He normally only contacted you out of necessity, and if you were eating a meal in public with him it was because Eijirou wanted to eat out with both of his babygirls and not just one (and those were rare considering how awkward you and Bakugou were around each other).

Despite your questions, you respond back that you don’t have any lunch plans and accept the offer of lunch together when it’s extended. You don’t ask if he’s okay, don’t ask why the sudden interest in your time, you just grab your purse and leave the station building while texting Eijirou to let him know that you would be covering the evening anchor position tonight and wouldn’t be back home until late. This was a late patrol night for him so you’d just have to text him when you got home so he knew you made it safely and hope he didn’t appear during your walk home to scold you about not driving to work.

You’re grateful that Bakugou chose a place close to the news station, you could walk easily and not feel too worried about time. You’re mildly surprised to see him waiting for you outside the restaurant, more expecting him to have gotten a table already but instead he’s watching carefully as you approach. It seemed like he was always watching, observing, ready to act. How he wasn’t exhausted at the end of the day was beyond you. 

“Hi,” you greet, but you know in the way that he looks at you that your tone was less than confident. You hate that you sound uncertain to be getting food with him, but without any kind of context it was difficult to not be slightly uncomfortable with the situation at hand. There could be a million reasons why he was wanting to have lunch with you and, given that you didn’t know anything about him aside from the little things Eijirou had shared and what was public knowledge since he was a successful U.A. High student and professional hero - and all the public information painted him as a hothead with no people skills (and Eijirou’s stories were about the same).  

“Hey.” It’s simple, a bit gruff, but he’s clearly trying not to be an asshole - which you appreciated greatly. “You look nice.”

“Thanks, uh, Eiji got this shirt for me. Said I needed more red in my wardrobe.” You laugh a little bit as he smiles, holding the door open for you to walk into the restaurant. You’re sure he’d heard the same thing from your shared boyfriend quite a few times. 

It’s quiet as you look over the menu, you’d been here enough times with coworkers to know what you wanted to eat but the menu was a great buffer between you and your boyfriend’s boyfriend. Maybe you should have told Eijirou? He’d probably be able to give you more context as to why Bakugou suddenly wanted to spend time with you after almost a year of floating around each other. Too late now, and you resign yourself to whatever may come when you set your menu down after Bakugou sets his own down.

“May I ask why the lunch invite?”

“Could’ve asked earlier.”

“Or don’t tell me, then,” you mumble, drinking some of your water while wishing you could have a drink or eight. The sigh from across the table makes your shoulders tense unwillingly, since now you were thinking that this wasn’t going to be a good conversation, and you’re thinking that you should have texted Eijirou for context. 

“I just thought it’d be nice for us to spend some time together, for Kirishima’s sake. He loves you and me both, and after the shirt thing it was pretty clear that we need to get to know each other better.”

“So I know what clothes are yours?”

“So you know and can trust I’m not going to flip out over you picking up a shirt and putting it on.” The correction has you pausing, looking down at your glass as you listen to him take a deep breath on the other side of the table. It was a small thing for someone to get mad about, so you understand and respect him wanting to clear the area since clearly boundaries were a tension point. “I want you to feel welcome at our apartment, and not feel like you can’t take up space there. I want you to be comfortable around me, and the way to do that is for us to get to know each other.”

“So…you want to hang out with me?”

“Basically. I know we’ve got some stuff in common, Kirishima says we have a lot in common but won’t tell me what.”

“Because that would be cheating.”

“Something like that,” Bakugou comments, leaning back in his seat as the waiter approaches. He lets you order first, then places his own, and you watch with interest as he watches the waiter walk away.

“Are you always on edge?”

“Comes with the job.” 

You want to argue that, no, it clearly didn’t if Eijirou was able to relax while working the same profession, but you know it’s better to keep your mouth shut and not call him out until you could comfortably use the “friends” label. A screaming match in a restaurant was not on your agenda for the day.

“That sounds exhausting, being honest.”

“I get decent sleep.” That sounds like an attempt at a joke, which has you smiling as you shake your head in mild disbelief. “I don’t know how you sleep, have you heard his snoring?”

“Oh god it’s awful,” you agree, relaxing more when Bakugou lets out a chuckle at Eijirou’s expense. “But he’s convinced it’s not him.” 

“He’s innocent always, chivalrous hero and all that.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, much like you would if it was your boyfriend giving you his chivalrous hero speech again. “You’ve known him since he came up with it though, yeah?”

“Since high school. You met him at work?”

“Yeah, the chivalrous hero spilled coffee on me ten minutes before I was supposed to interview him.”

“That’s not the story he tells.”

You elect to ignore the surprise at the suggestion that Eijirou talks about you - specifically how he met you - often, instead more curious as to how he told the story of how you met. The true story is that you got to do a studio interview with him and the morning of he was running late, rushed into the studio and knocked your cup of coffee onto your white blouse. The only other one you had was red, and he complimented it as soon as you returned to the set. To date it was still the best interview of your career, the chemistry between you two was very natural and he doubled back to ask you out- that time running directly into you once again and causing the water in your hands to spill on your pants. He was as red as his hair, stuttering while trying to find nearby napkins and you’d been the one to suggest dinner if he could promise not to spill any other liquids on you. 

The story as Bakugou heard it - repeatedly - was mostly the same but with some additions to make Eijirou seem more suave. Said you were flirting all through the preparation for the interview, that he had you bashful and practically eating out of the palm of his hand and that it was clearly a no brainer for you to say yes when he asked you out for dinner and drinks. 

“How does he tell the story about our first date and how that ended?”

“Something about needing to leave to deal with a mugging. He doesn’t tell that one much.”

“Because he knocked over our table and three others in his rush to leave, then came back and got chewed out by the restaurant’s manager for fifteen minutes. You wouldn’t brag about that.”

“He at least paid, right?”

“And we stopped by an arcade for a while.”

“You won him the bear.” You’re surprised that Bakugou knows that small of a detail, but you know that bear was proudly on display in Eijirou’s bed in their apartment and Bakugou clearly noticed everything. “He loves that thing.” 

“Yeah?”

“I’ve found him sleeping with it more than just a few times.”

“We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, Bakugou Katsuki,” you remind, leaning back in your seat and smiling when his cheeks tint a faint pink. “Talking about our boyfriend is skirting that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not good at that. Or really letting people get to know me.”

“You’re only doing this for Eijirou, huh?” It hurts to say out loud, and you’re not sure exactly why. It could have been that you were excited at the prospect of a friendship with Bakugou, happy that he wanted to be friends with you of his own volition and not just because you were also dating his boyfriend. But if this was just to make his relationship and living arrangements with Eijirou easier, then was he really wanting to get to know you? Or was he just trying to keep the peace? 

Bakugou’s silence doesn’t help, but you say nothing else about it since the waiter is approaching with your food. Is this something you’d ask your boyfriend about, or would it spark an argument between the two men? Never in a million years did you want to come between the two, so maybe it was best if you didn’t bring it up? Letting it run its course would probably be best for now, but if it festered that didn’t help matters at all either. 

It had only been one lunch event, but you were honestly preferring when he didn’t try to talk to you. At least that wasn't forced. 

“You were tense on the news tonight.” Eijirou’s voice was both all you wanted but the last thing you wanted to hear on your way home from work. “Everything okay, baby?”

“Long day,” you comment with a sigh, looking over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed. You should’ve driven, considering it was a night patrol day and Ayame was flaky at best, but you could curse yourself for that after you made it home.

“Not buyin’ it.”

Of course not. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. It’ll work itself out.” Your attempt at reassurance is met with a sigh, the familiar sound of his boots on the concrete behind you has you turning to see him holding his phone to his ear. “You’re so annoying.”

“You should’ve taken your car,” he reminds, hanging up and tucking his phone away into his pocket. “I love that shirt on you, though.”

“You bought it.” The reminder has him grinning, the normal kiss to your forehead then cheek in greeting bringing a smile onto your face just in time for him to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“Is that why you’re all tense and huffy-puffy?”

“I’m not huffy-puffy!”

“‘You’re so annoying’.” The imitation and sigh that followed make you reconsider, but you hand your purse to him when he holds his hand out for it. Nobody was going to try to steal a purse off of Red Riot; someone had, in the past, tried to steal your purse off of you while you were walking beside Red Riot and he never wanted that to happen again. “You know you gotta talk to me, baby. Did Bakugou-“

“You knew about lunch?”

“He asked if it was okay to take you out. Didn’t say how it went, though.”

“It was fine. He was nice, and it was alright.” 

The answer isn’t satisfactory, but you appreciate that he doesn’t try to push the subject any more. You didn’t want to tell him that you thought Bakugou was only trying to be friends with you to make his life with two partners easier, you know that’d hurt your boyfriend more than a breakup would. He never wanted anyone to feel inconvenienced for him, that wasn’t Eijirou’s way. And you didn’t want to spark a fight between the two men over this, either. 

“It’s a quiet night, only a couple more hours I think. Can I come over?”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“Sometimes when you’re off like this you just want space, babe. Trying to gauge where you’re at is hard sometimes even though we’re getting close to a year.”

“At this point you’re always welcome, unless I tell you I don’t want or can’t have company.” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

He nods, rubbing your back as you walk and you’re glad he came to see you during his patrol. He loved you, that much was clear without Bakugou saying so during your lunch meeting, and he only wanted to help. Maybe it would be worth talking to him about your concern that his boyfriend was only interested in being friends with you for convenience?

The thought is at the forefront of your mind for the rest of the walk back to your apartment, and the pros and cons of telling him weigh heavily on your shoulders. He says nothing about your obviously distracted state and just lets you lean into him as you walk until he’s unlocking the front door for you and handing your purse back. 

“Are you going to be okay for a couple hours?”

The question has you nodding on instinct, since you know he can’t just cut his patrol short. Not for you, not over this. 

“Baby?”

“Yeah, Eiji, I’ll be okay. I’ll run a bath and relax. You go keep the streets safe, and I’ll see you in a couple hours.” He’s not buying it, but he still nods with a small smile before he leans in to kiss you. It’s more than the usual chaste kiss you’d get when he was in costume, which was how you knew he was more than just worried. But this wasn’t the time for that, and you both understand the line you’ve drawn in the sand on this issue. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Be back in a couple hours, let me know if you want me to pick anything up.”

“Will do.”

Then he’s gone. You’re locking the door behind him, gently hitting your forehead against the door as the tears start to spill. You should’ve just told him, and you don’t know if you’ll be able to when he comes back later.

This was all Bakugou’s fault.

[alpineshift]

all of your wips sound so amazing!!! i can’t decide SO! what is one YOU want to yap about? (if you also can’t decide…well i do love your brutal destiny series❤️ and i think i spotted one new wip in there?)

🥹🥹 I get to choooooooose hehe well I then I'll definitely choose violence! (lol)

I try to get a new fic for that series out once a month but no lie, the next one may have to wait a little bit. I'm hoping to get a good portion of it done during January and maybe wrap it up a bit by end of February (I have a writing thing I want to do in the middle of Feb), but we'll see 🥲

we left off with all of our favourites surviving a long night battle and got a quick taste of what the Governor can do/will do/wants to do, but more importantly jacknico are keeping ✨secrets✨ from each other now 👀

I think, what I want to start sinking into with this instalment is the idea of two people who love each other endlessly and have essentially never been apart start diverging (literally and metaphorically) and end up kind of alone for the first time in their lives. putting that jacknico co-dependence to the test, you know?

some very short notes and concepts (and maybe a tiny spoiler) below the cut!

Nico & Quinn side quest to visit a Forge point (some kind of brother-in-law chat moment)

Maybe a little bit of god lore

Nico has to make a self discovery during the visit

Inspo from the Canucks home opener video

Figure out what to do with all the new characters (Jack's now stuck at the Keep with Roman, without Nico or Quinn as a buffer - getting into type 3 kind of fun - Luke wisely spends a lot of time out in the pastures in deer form eating grass to avoid all that)

(+plus)

He feels it suddenly, unexpectedly, then all at once; the way the air suddenly crushes down on him, weighted and thick and practically churning with rage. It oozes between the membrane of his brain like liquid, a subtle but definitely present kind of sensation. But, it's not unfamiliar, and Nico could only swallow past the sudden tightness in his throat as he looks down the length of the courtyard, towards the covered walkway leading from the sleeping quarters.

Jack is storming towards them, so incensed and furious that air is radiating heat around him.

[whitepeachrum]

Just One More

Fandom: Hetalia (personified) Pairing: Arthur x Kat (EngUkr/UkrEng) Content Length: Short (~1100 words)

Arthur had been sitting and glaring at his partner for the past three minutes. He couldn't stand it anymore. How was he supposed to enjoy a movie with her munching away on the sunflower seeds? They were noisy, they were messy, and they were occupying the space he had hoped to occupy: her lips.

But she was deeply invested.

Only noticing him looking at her when a stray seed fell off to the side, Kat wondered why Arthur had been so distant. Usually, he’d be curled up on the couch beside her, sharing the cozy blanket they had made together. Yet today, he was sitting in his armchair and staring. Hard.

“Want to join me here?” She patted the empty space beside her to invite him over.

“No. No, you enjoy what you're doing. I’m just going to read.”

Kat watched Arthur get up from his chair and stomp across her field of view. She quickly put their movie on pause, confused by his sudden departure.

“Wait. Why are you leaving?”

“I’m just dealing with a bit of a headache.”

Headache? Didn’t he say he was going to read? Something wasn’t adding up for Kat.

“..Are you mad at me for something?”

“Of course not. I could never be mad at you,” he put a hand on her shoulder as he walked by and gave it a gentle squeeze. Not a kiss, but a shoulder squeeze. Something was definitely off. Kat raised her eyebrows in worry and continued to visually follow him until he’d disappeared from the room. She chewed on the seeds mindlessly as she pondered his odd behavior.

Arthur’s eyebrow twitched. He could hear it all the way upstairs. With the television volume off and not a single other sound reverberating through the house, the sound of those damn seeds cracking bothered him with every. single. bite.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell her to stop eating them. That would not be very kind of him. The best he could do was try to cover his ears and hope that the thickness of his hands would buffer the noise well. And when he did, he felt sweet relief as he couldn't hear the crunching sounds as loudly. Just the sound of nothingness and the blood pumping in his ears. This was working well.

Except the sound now echoed in his brain, like a clock in the dead of the night.

Arthur growled frustratingly and crossed his arms in anger. Upon hearing the frustrated sound, Kat decided it’d be best to figure out what was going on before it became tomorrow’s panic attack. She set her bowls aside and tried to quietly approach Arthur. When she spotted him sitting like a grouch in his chair, she gently knocked on the doorframe to his study.

Arthur sighed quietly upon seeing the sound maker’s worried face.

“Sorry…” Kat held her hand up as soon as she was met with displeased eyes. Perhaps she was making too much noise. Maybe he was finally tired of her.

“It’s alright, love. Just go and enjoy the movie without me,” Arthur consoled.

“Does your head hurt a lot?” she asked with softness.

“It will pass with time. I promise I’ll be just fine.”

“Did I do something wrong…?”

“What? No, don't be absurd. It’s just a small headache. That’s all.”

“Then…” Kat rubbed her hands anxiously. “Did you not want to watch the movie…? We can watch it another time. Or we can watch something else! We don’t have to watch the romcom. Whatever you want.”

Arthur watched on as his partner tried to find ways to accommodate his sudden disinterest in their common time. His heart sank a bit and his brows slightly upturned at the realization that these small seeds that Kat loved would plant themselves as thoughts of doubt in her mind. He should’ve been more upfront with her from the start.

“…May I be frank?”

“Yes! Please,” Kat said as she sat down in an adjacent chair.

“Darling, I love you, I really do, but…” Arthur put a hand on her knee.

“You want to break up…” Kat assumed.

“I jus— What?? No! Where did you get that silly thought from?” He frowned, confused by her train of thought. Looks like those underlying doubts were much larger than he thought.

“Well, you became a bit cold suddenly so I thought you got mad at me.”

“No, love, I wasn't mad at you.”

“So, what was that? Why did you get so distant with me like that?”

Arthur groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he found it stupid to even admit out loud.

“It’s… nothing…”

“Arthur!”

“Alright! It's the stupid seeds you're enjoying!”

“…What?” Kat blinked in surprise, not at all expecting to hear it.

“The sound of the seeds is irritating, but I didn't want to keep you from enjoying your snack, so I thought it was better to not say it out loud.”

“Arthur.”

“It was stupid, I shouldn't have…” Arthur waved it off, “..taken it so seriously.”

“Is that really it?” Kat asked as she placed her hands over his.

“I also really wanted to… you know…” Arthur mumbled, trying not to sound like a needy man.

“Hmm?”

“To just kiss you… a little bit, not too much. Just a small kiss… I thought it’d be nice. With the romantic movie and all.”

“Oh! Oh my gosh!” Kat felt her body release the worry she had been festering and a small smile formed on her lips, “is that why you were so angry?”

Arthur nodded, feeling shameful for feeling the way he had. Kat placed both hands on either side of his face and looked at him.

“You are a simple man, Arthur. If you want something, you can just ask for it.”

“May I have a kiss then…?”

“Of course, you silly goose,” Kat chuckled and placed one on his lips.

Arthur groaned and frowned right after.

“What is it this time?” she asked.

“I can taste the seeds.”

“Is that a bad thing…?”

Arthur tilted his head, contemplating how to answer honestly. He paused for a moment, thinking of the appropriate response.

“You know, I’m starting to understand why you gravitate towards them. Could I have another taste? To double-check, of course.”

“Just one more.” Kat grinned, seeing right through his cheeky remark, then happily complied with his request.

“Mm. Still tastes sweet to me.”

[poupeesdecirque]

Posting by Queue, or: why I need some distance from my crafts

It has been some time since my last hobby meta blog entry, it had different reasons and one is that I need distance. Like, yes I of course enjoy crafting and sometimes I am like a little child that runs everywhere to show off things.

But it got ... less intense. And I learned I do better when I keep projects or at least details to myself to sit on them for longer. That the first euphoria is purely mine and not to be shared.

Like for my photos I have a buffer of several weeks now. Yes, I know past-me would have kind of hated that. But I learned I do better when I have a time buffer. I do take photos weekly but sometimes they don't feel special enough to get the weekly photo feature?

Friday & yesterday I went out for photos and while I like the ones from yesterday way more than the ones from friday I am not sure if the set from yesterday will get the feature or not as it's only a hand full of photos giving me that certain spark.

Other than that I am a very emotional artist, I sometimes really fuck up my art and hate it at the moment I worked on it, but then, sometimes, after a few days or weeks I can look at it and just wonder about what was my problem the day I made it.

Another thing is that I, myself, enjoy my art. The process of it. And I like to see my blog updating, sometimes I forget what post will go online and then I check the blog and think "ah yes, this was that thing!", and it reminds me why I made the blog overall, to show myself I had progress and that every tiny step counts.

Which leads to another reason why I hold back in regards of posting. Yes, I do share some snippets in my stories over on insta but not always and not all. I sit on over 300 drawings from the last two years alone nobody ever will see, I enjoyed drawing but it's nothing for the public eye. I will maybe go back and redraw some and share the redraws then, who knows?

But wait, there is actually more reasons.

The biggest or main reason is ... i sometimes go really wild on projects. In January I finished so many dolls it was insane, I worked on Cosplays and other crafts in an incredible speed, I have literally no idea where I found the time but I somehow did and doll parts arriving every week did the rest.

I keep the blog running with partially 2 month old stuff but .... to be honest I don't have doll stuff aside photos to do anymore. All I can do is wait for bodies to be shipped (or dolls even) and arrive. There has been no movement since January. Aside Iza getting the shipping notice for our Split, might take a while until its at her place and I can't really start on the Akuma until I got the body (which I at least have finally ordered this month) as colors need to be matched and mods to be made.

I am truly itchy to do something else than sewing all the time, I do enjoy cosplay but you know how much I like sewing (hint: not at all). So to remind myself of the fun I had in the past weeks I have mixed my blog to bless me with some progress I had which was maybe not sewing all the time. And well, the Cosplays have deadlines and I do get some ideas aside purely sewing while doing them, so that keeps me going for now.

Yes, I could start redoing dolls like Alastor or Erwin. But you know what? IT'S ALMOST ALL SEWING. Urgh.

Aside that real life is pretty good at eating me up and I just want to enjoy crafting. Right now drawing feels like stress relief but I hate the results and just scan the pieces and put them away to never look at them again, I have a bunch of posts queued up without any captions, a wip entry of a current project only has two photos but I lack the spoons to actually get them done. But since those posts are so far back it's fine (yes I know drafts are a thing).

In general I enjoy having my art to myself to get used to it before I put it out into the wild as I just recently got reminded I do bad with direct comparisons still and it hits some triggerpoints from the past and makes everything harder, I don't need that.

I literally have no idea if this blog makes sense even, lol. I just am tired of sewing and stopped working on my current project around lunch time and have drawn so much today and I walked way too much the whole week my friends urged me to stay the ef home and at least try to relax. But I'm restless as my body is too stressed (I know it all I'm a certified relaxation trainer so eh), so, have an over the place blog entry.