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girlboybug · 2 months

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Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning. leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuinely smile, and nod with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body you’d ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him. “rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and across your cheeks at his observation. but a hefty cloud of pride quickly replaces it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just. Her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his, when a look of oh fuck flashes across his face. he’s quick to rid himself of it but you caught it, and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself waver in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, uncaring, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s funny,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to, your dreaded frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible

wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively. you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you feel his rings through the thin material of your dress.

you don’t care.

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke. you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle through pursed lips from him. “i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently, and he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach, and you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, and his voice sounds a bit rougher from the smoke, his words laying on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you. he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the red kiss on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you, his lips in an unintentional pout. “are you jealous of me, because why wouldn’t you be,” he hums on an airy note, drawn out and easy. his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “or of whoever left it?” your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the end of a whisper, a hazy, knowing smile rising in the corner of his lips. you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a pot of gold chock full of new material to use against you but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of this.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough for me to wanna do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes and you laugh dryly. “yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s believable that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you, he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i dunno i think it was at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…correct him maybe?” and you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek, his ringed pinky casting away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you. you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.”

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. with the way that farleigh speaks to you while maintaining eye contact, the way his hand tempts you alone with a few gentle touches upon your leg, you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly. he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force, and you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you just might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with a harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, and you glare at him. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, and it only increases your desire to take him in your mouth when you can practically hear all the inhales and exhales of smoke he took prior, how it leaves a rich rasp in his voice.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart for him to emphasize the genuine ache to suck him off, already feeling that familiar throng of tingles set off again between your thighs.

“another time, it’ll be too much for you right now,” he unintentionally sounds patronizing and it rubs you the wrong way. you let out something that’s a more annoyed version of a scoff, folding your arms. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.” a cloud of insecurity beginning to muddle your mind.

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close. you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock is stirs a familiar buzz in your clit and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the ache settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you pour your words out to him like a rich wine and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around his cock head. you hold back the smile that threatens to pluck the corner of your lips upward when he gasps loudly and whines your name with a pure churning ache.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. “i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

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stargirl-in-dilfspace · 1 month

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Look After You (Christmas Fic) - Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader

[moodboard for moodboard’s sake]

Summary: It’s the first time you’ve had Frankie home for the entire month of December, and you have some exciting news for him.

content/warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader & frankie are married, they have a daughter, girl dad frankie, classic christmas (no sad beige bullshit here), reader is pregnant, pregnancy announcement, their daughter is rambunctious & sweet, daughter is named Valentina (Val for short), Santiago appearance, alcohol mention (santi and frank have a beer lol), these two are so sweet you wanna throw up [2k-ish words]

a/n: okay first fic on tumblr, this feels weird. and yeah it’s wayyyy too early for Christmas but i hate that it’s snowing where i am and im pretending im happy about it (aka writing fics about Christmas) let me know what you think!!! <3

Christmas had stopped being a time to relax a long time ago. Even more so once you had your daughter. And your husband. But, Frankie was plenty of help, this evening, among many others, he’d offered to completely take over the bedtime duties for Valentina, that you normally split 50/50, so you could have some time to yourself, which you opted to wrap gifts.

It was the 23rd, and the wrapping was a little late admittedly. He’d offered everything under the sun, a hot bath, a home cooked meal, etc. You’d chosen to wrap gifts. This was the first year you got to spend the entire month with him. And Val was three. You settled down on your bed, with a bunch of gift bags, wrapping paper and a few bows. The gifts you planned for your daughter on your left, and a few for your husband on the right.

By 7 o’clock, you’d wrapped everything. Gift tags were what you had left. In your hand writing, you started to write your first name. On your daughter’s gift. You silently laughed at yourself, trying again, with a different tag, addressing it to Val, from Mama.

You’d never get used to it in the best of ways.

You smiled at the tag, feeling stupid. Stupidly happy. The amount of joy that children got out of Christmas, would last forever, and seeing the joy from your daughter made all the work worth it.

Then you got down to your husband’s little stack. A few useful items he’d asked for, a book he’d wanted, and a framed photo of the two of you. One from the day you told him you were pregnant with Val. Taken on a digital camera, he’s smiling wide, genuinely, while you press a kiss to his cheek. He had been trying to find time to get all the photos printed off the camera and frame some, specifically that one to put on his nightstand. You wrapped that last.

Cause that wasn’t the only part of the gift. You had a letter, and more importantly, a pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

You looked at it for a moment, you only found out a few days ago, and decided you’d surprise him on Christmas Eve, with the photo.

A swift knock was put on the bedroom door, to which you hid everything at your side, throwing your sweater over it. “Francisco Morales if you walk in here you may not live to see Christmas Day.” You call out, in a joking tone, as the door cracked open.

“Hey there, Mrs. Catfish.” You place the voice immediately. Santiago. “Heard you were wrapping gifts in here?”

“Yeah, you’re safe.” You chuckle lightly, standing up off the bed to hug him as he stepped in to greet you. “What’re you doing here?” You wrap your arms around him with a smile on your face.

“Holy…shit.” You furrow your brows, hearing his tone as you pull back, following his gaze. Fuck. “Looks like it’s Mama Fish of two.” He chuckled, looking back at you with a smile before you shushed him quickly.

He got a kick out of the nickname he’d come up with when he’d found out about Val.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You smile, the reality kicking in a little. “Frankie’s supposed to find out Christmas Eve so keep it zipped.” He chuckles again, taking it to heart.

“How far along?” He asks as you made an effort to finish putting everything neatly into its little box, and labeling it with his name.

“Four weeks. Only found out on the 19th.” You say quietly, stuffing presents into the closet, behind some storage boxes, stacking a few spare blankets over it for good measure.

“Damn.”

“Don’t even do the math, Santiago.” You warn with a fake scowl.

“Guess me taking Val for the weekend paid off.” He jokes as you shoot him a look, opening the door and leading him back out into the hall to the living room to find Frankie.

The Christmas lights on the tree were plugged in, blues, red, purples, oranges, greens, yellows…you’d refused to give in to the sad beige trends, you wanted your daughter to have the Christmas you did. Full of life and color, and strange ornaments with memories and crafts and photos. Frankie was in the kitchen in the fridge, digging for drinks.

“You found her?” He calls to Santi, to which he replies with a simple “yep.” “Either of you want a beer?” He asks, Santi gave you a look to which you held up a finger in warning.

“No, honey, just water for me.” You reply, and he came into the living room a few moments later, two beers and a water. You thanked him and smiled, sitting down next to him on the couch while Santiago sat in one of your armchairs.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, catching up and laughing. Your daughter slept like a rock, and eventually you checked on her, making sure she actually was asleep. She was the spitting image of both of you, snoring softly. Your pride and joy, you never thought any man would ever make you feel safe and loved enough to have a child, a home.

The last two weeks, you’d been watching Christmas movies with Val and Frankie, curled up on the couch, as she got all excited about Christmas, and winter, and presents.

Last night, she’d begged to make cookies she’d found in an old cookbook of yours. Gingerbread cookies the three of you decorated to look like each other, accompanying the little house she decorated. She passed out from a sugar high on the couch between you and Frankie at only 6 in the evening. A miracle, for a girl like her. He’d talked to you about how much he loved the two of you, quietly playing with your hair, for almost an hour before you both fell asleep.

By the time Santiago left, you both were tired, like average toddler parents were. You drag a blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it up and over the two of you, curling up with him for a minute.

“Good day?” Frankie asks, like clockwork each night he wanted to hear what you had to say. His eyes reflect the Christmas lights, and somehow every ounce of admiration and love he held for you.

“Good day. Got all the presents wrapped.”

“I’m glad, all ready for Christmas?” He rubbs your arm, pulling you closer.

“Very. You?” You look up at him, hand finding his soft brown curls, you see him wear more frequently now. Standard Oil practically owned his head of hair until you came along and convinced him the curls and little grays were perfect to you.

“I think so. Wrapped your gifts last week.” He grins down at you, hand falling at your waist, fingertips grazing your back and pulling you just a bit closer. You smile at him, God, you love him. His eyes shine a little more in the light of the tree, pulling you up to kiss him sweetly, your hand pressed gently to the side of his face.

“I love you.” You murmur, reaching just a bit farther up to press a kiss to the tip his nose, one of many things you adore about him.

“I love you, hun.” He kisses your cheek in return, letting you rest on his shoulder, just against his neck. You play with the hem of his shirt, yawning slightly. “How’s a hot shower and bed sound?” He asks with a slight chuckle, you can feel it deep in his chest, with his heartbeat. The one he knows beats just for you.

By the next evening, dinner is served, chicken (considering your daughter won’t touch turkey), mashed potatoes (her favorite), and green beans (cause somebody needed her greens.)

“Mama, do we get to open presents tonight?” Your daughter asks, her spoon spinning around in her potatoes.

“Only one, since Santa hasn’t come yet, sweetheart.” You grin, watching her take another bite, smiling at you and Frankie.

“Do you think I’ll be able to hear the reindeer? When he’s on the roof? Cause I can’t see Santa?” Val asks, pulling her hair out of the little ponytail done by Frankie from earlier when she’d “helped” him outside shovel the snow on the sidewalk, messy from her little hat.

“I don’t know about that…but I heard Santa has been leaving behind something extra special if we leave him some milk and cookies tonight.” Frankie smiles, explaining to his daughter what she could expect if she tried to stay in her bed and sleep.

“Hmm…I think we should get to bed soon, Val cause Uncle Santi called before dinner and told me Santa had already come to his house.” You hum like it's nothing, and your daughter shoots up, finishing the remainder of her plate, and Frankie smiles at you.

“Can we go get my pjs? And brush my teeth? I wanna go to bed!” Val forgets she could even have one present tonight.

She takes Frankie’s hand, tugging it a little, watching you for approval. She drags both of you, through her bedtime routine like you usually have to do for her. You kiss her goodnight, and tell her Christmas will be there the sooner she goes to sleep, and that you love her. You lean on the doorframe, watching Frankie talk to her, telling her goodnight and that he loves her.

Your hand finds your abdomen without really thinking. Jesus Christ do you love him, and God are you glad to be the one having his children.

You quickly tuck both hands in the pockets of your jeans as he turns to you, walking out with you. He takes your hand, leading you back to the living room.

“I’ve got something for you.” You say softly, he presses a kiss to your head. You reach under the couch, as you’d hidden it earlier in the day, and he chuckles a little. You hand him the box and settle with your legs over his lap, he brushes your knees with his free hand. He looks at you to see if it’s okay to open, his hands making the box look much smaller than it was. You nod, encouraging him a little, a small smile on your lips.

He shakes off the top, pushing back the wrapping and looking at you, a large grin on his face, taking up the photo frame, setting the box beside him. He pulls you in tightly, still holding the framed photo. “I’ve been meaning to do this, this is amazing, thank you-”

“Frankie, I’d take another look in the box before you thank me, honey.” You joke slightly, he lets go of you, giving you a confused look, taking the box back up, taking back some more of the wrapping, he looks back up at you, his eyes wide, and you don’t even know how his smile got better. He wraps you up in his arms again, pulling you up to hold you as close as he can.

You’re every good piece of him, you’re the one thing he could ever dream to have.

“We’re having another baby!” He’s impossibly happy, excited and holding you tight, kissing you repeatedly before you can even say another word. “I’m a dad, again…” He lets you go a little to look at you, glancing down at your stomach, and back to your eyes. “Thank you…”

Those big, brown eyes and that smile, that got you here in the first place.

You’re smiling, blushing with how excited he is. He pulls you back in, once again, elated, with little tears at the corner of his eye, holding you close. The only place he wants to be.

“I- I’m only four weeks. Only found out a few days ago, just wanted to surprise you.” You stumble over your words, and he kisses the side of your face, still holding you but loose, so you could breathe, and he could look at you.

“It’s amazing. It’s more than amazing, it’s the best fucking Christmas gift.” He grins at you, hands rubbing your arms up and down as if to warm you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Francisco.” You just about melt into his arms, his comfort the same as a blanket while it snowed outside.

He made you happier than you could’ve ever believed you deserved, let alone believed you would find. And yet, he reminded you somehow everyday of how much he didn’t deserve you.

#pedro pascal #writing prompt #christmas #fanfic #triple frontier #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #established relationship #pregnancy #wife!reader #pregnancy announcement #fluff #new writter #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales is too fucking cute and a girl dad send help

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forthegothicheroine · 1 year

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Do you have any gothic novels that you can recommend off the top of your head? Especially to people who want to try their hand at the genre? I've hit a wall in my project and I need to get some fresh inspiration, but I don't know where to start and the book side of tumblr failed me the last time I tried asking them for recs

Hell yeah! I made some old posts for this a while back, but it's good to look at it again with my more recent taste! Let's see...

Classic Gothics

Dracula: The one, the only. Often imitated, never equalled.

Frankenstein: Short, sad and world changing! Can get a little slow at parts, but definitely worth it. (True story, my parents read this to me as a fetus to calm my kicking, so it's part of my personal mythology!)

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward: The most gothic of Lovecraft's work, and possibly my favorite. Novella length, usually found in collections.

The Picture of Dorian Gray: Sinister, sexy, philosophical, with a main character I want to punch in the face!

Carmilla: Another novella, about as lush and swooning as vampire stories get.

The Hound of the Baskervilles: A very readable gothic mystery.

Confessions of a Justified Sinner: This one isn't as action packed, but if you have big religious issues like me, it's incredibly haunting.

The Monk: Like the above, but sleazier and crazier!

Northanger Abbey: A gentle parody of early gothics, starring an adorable proto-goth girl.

The Italian: I'll be honest, I find Anne Radcliffe kind of a slog, but if you liked Northanger Abbey and want to read what Catherine Morland reads, this is probably the most accessible.

A Long Fatal Love Chase: This starts as campy and then takes a plunge into gut-wrenchingly intense. The book Jo March was always trying to write!

The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Another novella, and Stevenson is one of the best writers out there for excitement!

The Werewolf of Paris: Gothic monster as serial killer, still scary today.

Rebecca: The foundation of all gothic romance to come afterwards. A ghost story without a ghost, with an ending that's still debated as happy or sad!

Jane Eyre: The other foundation of all gothic romance to come afterwards. I bounced off the child abuse-heavy beginning a few times, but I'm very glad I finally read to the good stuff!

The Castle of Otranto: Considered the first gothic novel, a goofy b-movie in written form.

Modern-ish Gothics (post-1950 or so)

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein: Fuck the haters, I love this book.

Mexican Gothic: Genuinely scary, genuinely romantic, genuinely creative. A favorite.

Blackwater: A southern gothic saga of a family in a flooded town, whose scion marries a woman who isn't quite human. A whirlwind ride!

A Bloodsmoor Romance: Another family saga, this one northern gothic, with sisters whose lives all go off the rails in different supernatural ways. Give this a try before writing Joyce Carol Oates off entirely!

The Silver Devil: A nasty, problematic bodice ripper where you'll cheer for the heroine to bring the hero down low!

Interview with the Vampire: To be honest again, I'm not super into Anne Rice, but this is a page-turner, and every vampire book that has come after it has had to respond to it in one way or another. Read the next two Vampire Chronicles books if you like it!

A Taste of Blood Wine: My own preferred sexy vampire romance!

The Bloody Chamber: The ultimate dark sexy fairy tale work, accept no substitutes.

Haunted Castles: Contains the brilliant novella Sardonicus, as well as some other campy gothic stories!

A Great and Terrible Beauty: Many millennials were introduced to the gothic genre via this, Fear Street Sagas, or A Series of Unfortunate Events. This is my favorite of the three, though the sequels are a bit of a letdown.

Gormenghast: This series is a throwback to the pseudo-medieval, Otranto-style gothic, but much better. Don't read Titus Alone.

#books #gothic literature

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paulrobinsonshotel · 8 months

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I love RTD's writing, and it was his era that made me fall in love with the show as a kid. When it was announced he was coming back, my reaction was nothing short of ecstasy.

When the rumours began to swirl that we'd be getting a Tennant-centric special with the Doctor regenerating BACK into him, I was very much "please no", but also thinking "surely, RTD wouldn't actually do this. There's NO WAY he'd actually do this".

Then Ncuti Gatwa was announced, amazing, wonderful. He'll be fantastic, no doubt about it.

Then we got the Tennant and Tate 60th announcement. At that point, the cracks began to show. Yes, my favourite companion and one of my favourite Doctors. I was excited, but I was waiting for more. We've already seen David Tennant's Doctor and Donna Noble written by Russell T Davies, and it was great. But for an anniversary special, the things that bring different eras of the show together in celebration of its history... pretty underwhelming.

Then the thing I was dreading most, the Doctor regenerating back into Tennant - something that had been the refuge of obsessives making badly edited fan videos from 2010 onwards - actually happened. And not only that, but he regenerated straight out of Whittaker's outfit into a Tennant-esque one. Ostensibly because RTD didn't want the image of Tennant in Whittaker's outfit to be used to whip up anti-drag or transphobic hate. Despite the fact that 1) Whittaker went out of her way to make her outfit gender neutral, so that all fans would be able to dress up as her Doctor and feel included and 2) surely it's more important to broadcast the message that anyone of any gender can wear any clothes they want, and there's nothing wrong with it?

The initial Tennant/Tate announcement was in May 2022. My initial dissatisfaction was met with responses like "The episodes are ages away, just wait and see". We're fifteen months on, and no further returning characters have been announced. As far as we know, these specials will still be primarily focused on Tennant, Tate and Donna's supporting cast (that said, the one thing in all this I'm happy about is seeing Bernard Cribbins again).

Of course, that doesn't mean there's been no announcements about the episodes at all. Segun Akinola's decided to leave, so we're getting a new composer. That's exciting, I wonder who it'll be? Oh, brilliant, it's Murray Gold. Again. In RTD's own words, "is anyone surprised?". Surprised? No. But fair to say my enthusiasm went from very low to absolute zero.

Gold is great as what he does, but we just had Akinola, an incredibly skilled composer who poured his heart and soul into the show, but was never given a chance by a chunk of the fandom because he tried something different to Gold or just because they didn't like the Chibnall era as a whole. So RTD could've brought in some new talent, with a completely fresh take, but instead chose to bring back yet another person from his era, who did 10 seasons on the show, and the one person the fandom needs to move the fuck on from the most.

So that's a special meant to celebrate 60 years of the show, but specifically focused on one era of it? Coincidentally, the era of the guy writing it?

And for those who dismiss any criticism of this being RTD centric with "But Beep the Meep/The Toymaker!!!", ask yourselves this: If Chibnall stayed on and did the 60th as nothing but a Thirteen and Yaz story, but with Beep/Toymaker, or if Moffat come back and done the same with his characters, would there be anything other than across the board outrage? Classic villains do not an anniversary special make, since we've had them in every season since the revival.

I'm sure the episodes will be genuinely good, and I'll certainly be watching. Any DW is better than no DW, but of all the things they could've done for an anniversary special, this is practically an insult to the show's history.

I'll be patiently waiting for Ncuti Gatwa's era, which looks genuinely new and exciting.

Rant over.

#doctor who #60th rant #anti rtd #anti murray gold #If Moffat or Chibnall tried this the fandom would never forgive them #But because RTD #david tennant #jodie whittaker #ncuti gatwa

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steddieunderdogfics · 3 months

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This week's writer spotlight feature is: @kkpwnall! They have eight Stranger Things and Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by kkpwnall:

driving in your car

love is like ghosts

where's the spark?

if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

wanted: pool boy at the vampire mansion

KK's works have a consistent feel of genuine, heartfelt, human connection. Whether it’s a big, dramatic scene as the climax of a slow, delicious build-up of tension, or a mundane, slice-of-life tidbit, the characters always feel true to themselves, and their voices are perfectly nailed each and every time. And by that I mean, you can literally hear the dialogues in the characters’ voices—they’re THAT good. KK explores classic Steddie themes in their longfic Driving In Your Car, and they have a handful of wonderful one-shots and two-shots, each and every one of them delving into how much these boys love each other for who they are. In short, KK’s body of work feels like a love letter of the characters. If you love Steve and Eddie, chances are you’ll love their fics. - anonymous

Below the cut, @kkpwnall answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

They’re such a compelling and complementary pairing. Like, it seems like an opposites attract / odd-couple pairing on the surface, but beneath each of their exteriors, they’re so similar. They’re dork4dork, loser4loser, idiot4idiot, they’re both huge nerds but in different ways. They want and need and express affection through physical touch and words of affirmation (I mean, just look at the walking through the forest scene!) Plus they just have this insane chemistry that any time I think “there’s no way they did that, it’s all in my head”, I’ll go back and watch those scenes again, it’s just like “no, this absolutely checks out, they are so into each other from the word go”. And they’re just made for each other! I mean, come on! Matching scars? Nail bat and nail shield? Jock and nerd? They’re two halves of the same coin! What I really love about them too is that they’re both Just Some Guy, they’re silly, goofy, dorky guys! But mostly, I write steddie because it makes me happy and really satisfies part of my brain like nothing else.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Other than “Eddie Munson Lives” hahah, I’ll try just about anything written or recommended by a beloved mutual. Mutual pining, fix-it’s, missing scenes, and first kiss fics are top tier for me, and right now I’m really partial to fluffy romcom fics. If it’s got good flirting and banter, it’s got me hooked.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My absolute favorite to write is mutual pining (aka the love is requited, they’re both just being stupid). Miscommunication is a close second, the kind that can’t easily be resolved with just a sticky note on the fridge. Whether it’s mishearing something or misunderstanding something (even the character misunderstanding their own feelings!), I find it super compelling to write. But for a specific scenario, my favorite will always be Steve having a bad time at a party.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s impossible for me to pick just one, so I have to recommend 3 of my friends: Anyway It’s About Old Friends by @fragilecapric0rnn, and wanna be the only one for miles and miles (except for maybe you) by @judasofsuburbia, and everybody else (everybody else looks like they’ve figured it out) by @heybluechild. Anything by these fine folks is just fantastic, they’re all incredible writers and dear friends!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’d really like to write more AU’s! I’ve been tossing around ideas for college-aged+ aus (writing them a little older), 90s aus, a cowboy au… Mostly I’m just excited to keep writing them!

What is your writing process like?

Ahah it’s not much of a process. I write down every idea I have, no matter how small it is. Sometimes it’s a line of dialogue or a moment of a scene, but it all goes into the notes app and percolates in the back of my brain for a while. Eventually that dialogue or scene might coalesce into something bigger on its own, or combine with other snippets, and then ya got yourself a stew!

Do you have any writing quirks?

I really love writing dialogue, it’s my favorite way to get inside their heads, especially trying to balance what they say or don’t say, vs what they actually mean. I also love adding little details to fill out the world and the scene. It might not be necessary, but it feels like it brings everything together for me. And I like treating writing a fic like building a puzzle, trying to figure out just the right way to get all the pieces to fit together so the whole thing really sings.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I’m still playing around with what I prefer. With driving in your car, I started out by posting a chapter only when the following chapter was completely written, so I’d always have one in the tank. But that got to feel too much like I was just sitting on chapters for the sake of sitting on them, so I started posting each chapter as I finished it and felt good about it. I don’t do super well with a schedule for posting fics, I’ve got too many deadlines in my life as it is haha.

Which fic are you most proud of?

driving in your car, for sure. It’s my baby, my magnum opus, my kitchen sink fic (it’s got everything). It’s got so much of myself in it, it’s very personal, and very near and dear to my heart.

How did you get the idea for driving in your car?

I wrote a long post about this when the idea was just starting to percolate, but the long and short of it is I wanted to read more fics that reflected my own experiences as an older teen growing up in a suffocating small town, where really the only option you have is to just pile in the car with your friends and drive around aimlessly, because that’s the only way you can get any freedom or privacy. I wanted to see what life was like for the fruity four trying to get back to “normal” while also trying to deal with the fact the world almost ended AGAIN, and all their complicated messy feelings for one another.

What inspired love is like ghosts?

Like many people have guessed / suspected, it’s very much inspired by Buzzfeed Unsolved / Watcher Ghost Files, and a loving homage to ghost hunting shows. I’m a huge scaredy cat when it comes to anything horror, but I love a good ghost hunting show. The study room setting is also inspired by the miniscule closet-sized study rooms in the library at the college I went to.

What was your favorite part to write from love is like ghosts?

Parts of their make out scene was the first snippet I wrote and the one that really got the whole ball rolling with that fic, to try to figure out who this Steve and this Eddie are, and what would have to happen lead them to making out that hard in the study room. It was also the first steamy spicy almost-smutty scene I’d written, and it was so fun to learn how to write like that!! I also just love their banter in this fic, they’re both so sassy and ridiculous and completely gone on each other.

How do/did you feel writing where’s the spark??

Ooft this one was a doozy. This is actually the second draft, and the only time so far I’ve all but completely scraped the first draft and rewritten a fic. The first draft leaned really heavily into the loneliness of the holidays, my playlist for it was all of the most maudlin holiday songs, and it really started negatively affecting my mood and mindset. But I got some really great advice and help brainstorming from dear friends, and turned it around into a fic I’m really happy with. The holiday blues are still present, but there’s so much more love there now, and that’s really what the fic is all about.

What was the most difficult part of writing where’s the spark??

Finding that balance of holiday blues and love was really tricky, and I wrote for a lot of characters I hadn’t tried writing before either. From a technical perspective too, it was a big challenge to figure out how to keep the fic moving, and the party moving around Steve when all he wanted to do was wallow.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It’s so so hard to pick just one, but I love how this line in love is like ghosts turned out: And Steve is dumbstruck, kiss-drunk, half-fucked.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a holiday exchange fic coming out soon (hopefully before the holidays, fingers crossed), and I’m excited to dive into my prompt for lex’s winter fic challenge soon! I’d love to get the last chapter of driving in your car ready to share by the end of January. And there’s a secret [redacted] au I’m co-authoring with a very special friend that I would absolutely love to write in the new year!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just that I love this community so much. I’ve made so many incredible friendships because of this show, and I’m so grateful to be a part of this little corner of the internet. I never shared my writing publicly before finding the steddie community, and I’ve been really overwhelmed and delighted by the response to my writing and art (especially to be nominated to do something like this!! Truly an honor!). I was, at best, a casual Stranger Things fan before season 4. I wasn’t even going to watch it when it came out. But then I saw all the gorgeous fanart and gifs, and started reading headcanons, and had to check it out. I’m so so glad that I did, my life has changed so much for the better.

Thank you to our author, @kkpwnall, and our nominator! See more of @kkpwnall's work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #kkpwnall #steddie writers #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday

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i-write-boop-spoops · 3 months

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Professor Sycamore Proposal and Wedding Headcanons

so.... instead of festive headcanons, yall get this!! frick, when did it become february?

features: gn! reader, fluff, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes and very minor reference to sex

not proofread lol

owo what’s this? a classic boopy headcanon??

Sycamore is DIVORCED

So he has a lot of anxiety about marriage

When his last one crumbled, he felt like a failure, even though it was a mutual decision

After that, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to get marrid again

Like, could he really find someone to spend his life with? Was that even possible?

But then he met you

And suddenly, he liked the sound of wedding bells again

You’re together for about two or three years when he feels his ring finger starting to itch

Needing the cool metal of a wedding band to soothe it

Being with you, living with you… it was like the puzzle piece his life was missing

He wants to see that smile of yours for the rest of his life

The proposal HAS to be special

Because you’re special

And you make him feel special

You two have so many special memories together

Luckily, he’s a romantic, so he has an incredible idea

He’s going to take you on a walk down memory lane

Literally

To places that mean the world to the both of you

It starts at your shared apartment of course

You come home from work, to find your beloved wearing a chic suit (the top shirt buttons undone, of course)

He tells you he has a surprise, and that you should put on a nice (but easy to wander in) outfit

It’s not the first time he’s done something like this, so you’re not suspicious of anything just yet

And off you go on your grand adventure!

Having dinner at the restaurant you spent your first anniversary at

Getting dessert at your favourite little café

Laughing about the time you both dropped your ice cream while you stroll through the park

And all sorts of other memories

He’s nervous the whole time, but the excitement wins out

You just look so beautiful, his heart skips a beat every time he glances over at you

He wants to marry you SO BAD!

The walk culminates at the bridge you shared your first kiss at

At this point, you’ve kinda sussed out what his plan is

And boy!

You’ve never been more giddy with excitement

Honestly, if you found out he wasn’t proposing, you’d be disappointed

He takes your hand as you look across the river, the city lights dancing in the water

The speech he gives you is equal parts romantic and heartfelt

Just poetry

You’re trembling the entire time

He gets on one knee

His bones click but ignore that

And presents you with a velvet box

A gorgeous, classic ring inside

He doesn’t even have a chance to finish asking the big question before your arms are around him and you’re shouting “Yes! Yes!”

He’s in disbelief by your reaction

I mean, he knew you’d say yes… but he didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic

You really do love him, and that makes him feel so happy and blessed

Wedding planning is a bit hectic, since Augustine is very involved BUT also very busy and tired with work

Do you get into silly fights over dumb things like what canapes to serve? Probably

But do you make up like two seconds after? Yes

Your invites are so elegant (art deco perhaps?), and they are rose scented!

In terms of the wedding, it’s gonna be a small but classy affair

Not super traditional, but definitely romantic and stylish

Depending on what point of the timeline it is, he might not even have a best man

Because he’d want it to be Lysandre eek

The ceremony itself would be held in one of the many beautiful, historic buildings in Lumiose

Somewhere full of art and culture and beauty and life

Maybe somewhere like the art gallery? The theatre? The botanical gardens?

Wherever it is, you KNOW Sycamore’s vows will be the most romantic prose

The heartfelt, genuine words that fall from his lips are the stuff of fairytales

It would make the most jilted, stone-hearted person believe in love again

The whole time, he’s trembling with emotion

His hands are holding yours, his eyes gazing at you with such fondness and admiration

There will be tears

From you, from him, from everyone

Speaking of…

The guest list is STACKED

Despite it only being a few dozen people

It’s like a Pokémon conference crashed into your nupitals

Diantha, Steven Stone, Wallace, Cynthia… a whole host of professors

Your now-husband is well-connected that’s for sure

Expect AMAZING wedding presents

The dress-code is cocktail

Perfect for the cocktail hour

I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you chose to wear cocktail attire for your ceremony as well as the reception

But you could also stick to more formal/traditional options for the whole event, or switch to your more casual looks after pictures

no matter what option, he WILL find a way to show off a little chest

The reception could be held in a myriad of places

A rooftop in the city, a grand manor in Laverre City, a ballroom in Hotel Richissime

Wherever it’s held, there will be a very Kalosian sounding band playing the whole time

The Champagne will be flowing and plentiful

And there will be SO many flowers

You get those really aesthetic black and white photos taken ah! i love those!

Just saying… your first dance will be so beautiful

Graceful and romantic, you two gliding together as one

It’s Kalos, so you KNOW the meal will be delicious and rich and indulgent

I can totally see the two of you ditching the cake for a round of delicious pastries for everyone

Ones filled with berry curd or cream or chocolate ganache or frangipane

Just exquisite little pockets of joy

At some point, yourself and Augustine slip away to somewhere quiet

A balcony perhaps?

So you two can share a moment together, just the two of you, as pouses

Officially!

And so he can have a quick ciggy

As the evening goes on (and your hubby gets tipsier)

You’re on the dance floor again, but much less gracefully this time

It really devolves from a classy affair to a bunch of drunk friends having a good time

Which honestly? Was exactly how it should end

Well that, and your magical first night together as newlyweds ;)

#professor sycamore #professor sycamore x reader #professor sycamore headcanons #augustine sycamore headcanons #augustine sycamore x reader #augustine sycamore #professor hot dad sycamore #fluff #request

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theinstagrahame · 4 months

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It's been a wild few months here at theInstaGrahame HQ, but what never fails to make me happy is the rad games I get from the mail. I'm getting over a cold, so I'mma work on this instead of anything productive I could be doing!

Here's my month of RPG mail calls, and why I'm hyped!

Coriolis: The Last Cyclade: I've been curious about Coriolis' Middle Eastern-themed sci-fi vibes for a while, so I put this on a Secret Santa wishlist; and this is what I got! Excited to dive in.

Curios: Albrecht Manor and Jasper Park: Good Luck Press is one of those game design teams I'll try anything from, and the pitch for this is really unique. It's not an RPG per se, as much as a collection of books, papers, maps, and other materials that point toward a mystery you get to figure out. Playing it is just... looking through stuff.

Salvage Union: I am a big fan of post-apocalyptic media, and a fan of the mecha genre. So, yeah, this was an easy sell. It's built on the Quest system, which I've been meaning to get more into anyway, and it looks like a mech repair manual!

The Zone (which I apparently thought people would just recognize): This game is available for free online, but the box set is gorgeous, and features some designers I love. Trying to set up an online session soon, but I do really want to play it in person.

Deimos Academy: Honestly, I picked it up because of the creative team, but also the pitch is great. I skipped my high school reunion, but if there was a chance to go back and face a monster? I might've thought about going.

Brindlewood Bay + Nephews in Peril: I was originally just going to get the super popular Elderly Detectives Solve Eldritch Crimes RPG, but the title of the expansion/mystery book was just too perfect.

Rebels f the Outlaw Wastes: I've already mentioned I like post-apocalyptica? Well, this took a neat approach to achievements/leveling that I was super intrigued by, and I just dig the fun vibe. The reason I like post-apocalyptic media is that it's hopeful, and this feels moreso than a lot of other stuff.

Skyrealms Almanac and Creatures and Folks: I've been into setting guides this past year. And like, this one is also a coloring book? Hell yeah.

Stoneburner: I've been following the creator on Twitter and elsewhere for a while, so I was curious about this title. But definitely sold when they talked about some of the inspiration being the original Starcraft games.

Forgery: Again, picked it up because I really like Banana Chan's work, but this is a paint-by-numbers solo RPG about forging a demonic painting. So like, yeah. That's rad.

Vast Grimm: Space Cruisers: Vast Grimm is Mork Borg in Space, but I'm also a big fan of ship catalogs, so I really wanted to check this one out.

.Dungeon: Everything Snow makes is beautiful, queer, and nostalgic, so when they mentioned a re-release of .Dungeon was coming, I really wanted to check it out. I have a lot of nostalgia for the

Cloud Empress (everything, including a patch!): I mean, you say Nausicaa and I'm listening. This has some roots in that world, but also does some really interesting things with the Mothership game engine. I'm especially intrigued by the notion of replacing racial traits with age traits, and having a series of pretty mundane jobs as the classes.

Layers of Unreality: The first of this month's Zine Club deliveries! I keep hearing about Liminal Horror, and this particular module I've heard nothing but incredible things about. So I'm really hyped to check out what happens in these backrooms.

Fear the Taste of Blood: My second Zine Club book this month! Kayla Dice is one of those really rad creators who I think deserves more attention than she gets, so I'm really hyped to dive into this take on classic movie monsters.

I also got this from my partner's family's Secret Santa.

Okami is one of those games that sticks with me, and has ever since I first saw images from it, and played it. It's a genuinely beautiful experience, and while it's maybe not a game everyone will like, it's one that I really enjoy, and the art is a big part of that.

It stands out as an example of what you can do with a video game that's nearly impossible with most other art forms, and also a reason that I don't think the Arms Race for More Photorealistic Graphics in video game consoles is worth the effort.

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theexaltedbride · 8 months

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Dead Island 2 Slayers X Reader Headcanons (Part 4!)

Amy:

-You once caught Amy playing with a small puzzle piece on a string. When asked about it, she was very shy about it at first. But after thinking it over she decided to open up about it. It’s actually a little gift from her twin sister. Amy’ sister actually has the other half of the puzzle piece and the two of them fit together. Since meeting you she’s actually started considering getting a third piece for you to have. *

-At the theater she tried to sneak away with a few Romero Awards that were left lying around, because when would she ever get another chance at holding one? Plus, she planned on gifting one of them to her sister as a souvenir.

-You and Amy sometimes share gum via a kiss, which grosses out some of the other survivors. Which Amy finds kind of BS, because they are all regularly covered in zombie guts.

-Amy once wanted to go back to her old school where she taught her students, but was afraid of what she would find. You promised to be there with her the entire time when she felt ready to go back and clear it out.

-Amy has been floating the idea of scavenging one or two arcade machines for the Gameroom back at Emma’s mansion. You’ve tried to tell her that this will be a lot of work and you could just play all sorts of other games. But the fun of playing on an actual arcade machine is worth it, nothing beats the classics. Looks like you might have to raid the pier at some point to give her a nice surprise when she comes back from a supply run.

Bruno:

-Loves talking about his grandfather now and again, and genuinely appreciates when you let him do so and don’t get annoyed or tired of him geeking out over his family.

-Hated visiting the Santa Monica peer and fighting the Autophage Apex Clown there. Bruno isn’t afraid of clowns, but that freak there almost gave him a phobia of them. When one shows up he might hide behind you because you are braver than him against them.

-Would absolutely clear out the Theater for you so that the two of you could watch movies there and take selfies with the various Hollywood stars on the Walk of Fame.

-Has started thinking about setting up playlists for you and the group that can be broadcast over one of the radio frequencies to give you all something to listen to when going around Hell-A saving people and fighting Zeds.

-In his free time Bruno has started teaching you some concepts of Tarot cards and asking Lady Luck to look out for you.

Carla:

-Unironically loves blaring Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” when driving around, and will get so excited if you sing along with her even if you don’t speak any Spanish. Tell anyone else about it and she will punch you in the arm (but since she loves you, you get only 5% of the normal force she’d use).

-She got pretty mad at the Santa Monica peer when she played one of those rigged claw games and tried to get herself a stuffed shark. Spent almost five dollars worth of scavenged coins to get one. She nearly smashes the machine open, but she really wanted to win one fair and square, to prove her skill to the machine.

-Would absolutely steal one of the walk of fame stars for you and bring it back to the hideout as a nice gift to you. Might not be the best plan in the world, but it’s the thought that counts.

-On the boardwalk by the beach she showed off just how much she can actually lift, and trying to bring some of it back to Emma’s mansion.

-For as much as an adrenaline junkie she can be, she doesn’t like the rush she gets when you are in danger. It feels terrible, full of fear and anxiety, rather than the world spinning rush she normally loves when doing something dangerous.

Dani:

-When the Clown Apex roared at you both and made you jump, Dani actually roared back at it to establish dominance, but also because she didn’t like seeing you so freaked out by any kind of zombie.

-While she is more than happy to do everyone’s hair, she does not let anyone style her own hair, not even you.

-While she’s a skilled drinker she’s not actually good at doing some of those shot glass tricks you sometimes see on the internet. She’s actually trying to learn how to do them just to impress you.

-Sometimes when you both sleep together she utterly becomes a cuddle bug and refuses to let you get up and out of bed for at least another thirty minutes in the morning.

-During days off from zombie slaying, she will sit back in the pool and drink while listening to music, though whenever you join her she spends a significant portion of that time watching and admiring you.

Jacob:

-Jacob can sometimes be a little sensitive about his damaged right eye (both because it aches in sunlight and because of how much it stands out). So you sometimes make it a point to gently pull off his sunglasses when you are alone together at night, to look at his eyes as they are and show him it doesn’t matter, you still love him.

-Likes to share his smokes with you, and its becoming common for the both of you to just pass the same one around whenever you’re nearby.

-He shows you some of his old stuntman tricks in areas you have cleared out of Zeds, so that you can better move and fight across Hell-A.

-Has been eager to show you off to his mother, and actually changes his style of dress and hair style when taking a more ‘official’ looking photo for his mom to send to her when you can all finally get a signal out of Hell-A.

-Assures you that hanging on to the tire of a plane in midair was absolutely not the wildest or most dangerous stunt he’s ever done. But that he’d do it all over again because it meant he got to meet you.

Ryan:

-When it was your birthday, Ryan had a special surprise for you by showing you just what he used to do as a male dancer. It was a private show, but everyone knew what was going on just from how much effort Ryan put into cleaning himself up, and how loud the music was during the dance.

-You both actually found the costume shop where Ryan got his fake firefighter helmet and he went into detail about how many costumes he tried on before he was confident enough to try and pull a fast one at the evacuation zone, so of course you ask him if he’d be willing to try some of them on again just for you, and you ended up doing the same for him.

-You found out that his brother has some teasing names for Ryan, and you have become desperate in trying to guess them. Yet he still holds strong in keeping them from you. I guess you will have to find new names to tease him with.

-If you don’t know how to dance Ryan will be more than happy to teach you. Don’t laugh! Of course he knows how to do more than just stripping. Knowing different kinds of dance styles is paramount to being the best dancer at his agency.

-When Ryan found out you always had the hots for an old 90s Pup Action hero he actually went out of his way to find a costume of it and a fake moustache. Surprisingly he can really pull it off.

All Purpose Headcanons:

-After you evacuated Sam, Emma and Patton on the chopper your lover, and the other Slayers stood together as one force. Utterly wiping out the swarm of infected, cutting through them all like a scythe through wheat. Seeing all of you working together, the Eschaton Group realized that there was finally someone out there who could challenge them. For the first time now there was something which stood in stark opposition to their ‘Survival of the fittest’ policy, and instead put forth a ‘Survival of the United’ ideal.

-With all of the people you’ve been saving, your reputation amongst Hell-A’s survivor communities is starting to get serious, and more people are actively calling on the radios for ‘The Slayers’ to come and help them. You’re becoming the saviors of Hell-A.

-Given how big Hell-A is, and how many people need help, you can’t always move together as one massive group, and instead have to split into teams to help where you ae most needed and best suited. But when you are all together into one badass zombie slaying mob, there isn’t a single Zed out there who can stand against you.

OOC: (*So, according to an AMA by the devs it turns out that what Amy had around her neck was a puzzle piece that matches one her twin sister also has. All this time I thought it was a little cross she prayed to or kissed when she was afraid. I never got a good look at it and kind of wish the puzzle piece aspect had gotten more focus in her cutscenes.)

#Dead Island #Dead Island 2 #Dead Island Headcanons #Dead Island x Reader #Dead Island Slayers x Reader #Character X Reader #character x reader shipping #headcanons #DI2

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slashthrashandcrash · 1 month

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You should spill your thoughts more on the vibes of slasher x final girl; it’s giving me something to chew on for my own Danny/OC fic haha

I’m rabid about the idea that they just upturn everything—a disgusting happy little accident that turns what they thought was important to them upside down and now it’s trying to decide if it’s wed, bed or behead?

*SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE* OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT--

I've said it before in an absolute word vomit here but I'll say it again: I love a Slasher that is so utterly out of their depth when it comes to experiencing genuine human connection that they're forced to rely on their homicidal instincts/habits for comfort.

Obsession at first sight is always a classic, but something that's also peak is a Slasher falling head over heels without even realizing it. They've begun stalking their Final Girl, as they do with all their victims, learning her routines, who could be potential victims by proxy, tease her with close encounters -- the whole shebang. They never realize that they've almost started watching her...without an ulterior motive? There's no reason they need to know what her favorite flowers are or how she likes her coffee or what she wears to bed, but they do anyways.

And then that moment when they finally, finally have her cornered and in their grasp, the end of a well drawn out hunt, they find that they suddenly can't go through with it. It's a very inopportune realization to have. All the work they've put in stalking and harassing her, picking off the people closest to her one by one, it comes to a screeching halt in their mind. She's trembling. She's frightened. She's bloodied and teary eyed and begging so sweetly when she's not fighting for her life. Of course, it's every Slasher's favorite sight to behold, the prize to be won! Yet there's something different about it this time...not regret, per se, not mercy.

They want her like this all the time. They don't want this moment to end with a blade to her throat like every other victim before her. And just as much as they love to see her petrified under them, they also want to see more of the times she's smiled and laughed and bat her pretty little lashes (all candid moments they witnessed from afar, mind you). They want her, just her. But they want her alive.

It's this moment of confusion and inner turmoil that allows the poor Final Girl to slip out of their grip and escape to the sequel, and the Slasher spends an embarrassing long time processing this new development. They've never experienced such a whiplash before. It felt like bloodlust, but not quite. They still felt the same type excitement when she shivered and pleaded for her life, watching her struggling and feeling her heartbeat again them. Killing her though? Not an option. In that moment, she became the most addictive feeling and they'll be damned if they let her get away again. She's better than any drug. She's all the fun and none of the mess, although does she still look damn good in the resulting mess regardless.

There is a hierarchy of needs and she is at the very top. They need to touch her, feel her squirm, hear those lovely little whimpers, taste her fear -- at the same time, they want to know what it feels like to have her lean against them, flash them that soft smile she gives everyone else who don't deserve it, kiss their cheek and promise she'll never ever leave them. They legit feel like they're on a high when she's around them and withdrawal symptoms are a real bitch. If they can just find a way to keep her by their side, they'd be set for life between the rush of a killing spree and the addictive effects of her fear/love...

#ask #goldenbloodytears #I feel like I could genuinely write a novella of all my thoughts about slasher x final girl because i have WAY more than this #but this was getting embarrassingly long lmao #slasher x final girl

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chvoswxtch · 7 months

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congratulations on 3k! i’m so happy for you. can i get tickets for speak now (since it’s my fave) with jess or elektra please? any kind of headcanons are appreciated

thank you so much nonnie!!

my brain immediately went to jess and I started thinking about what a lazy day would look like with her so let's talk about it

headcannon below the cut

when jess falls in love (jessica's version)

jess rarely takes a full day off. sure she sleeps in late sometimes, or cuts out early to head to the nearest bar, but since her office is in her living room, it makes it difficult to have a work life balance when your phone is always ringing and people are constantly knocking on your door for help

which I think is partly why she's usually in a bad mood. our girl is exhausted

now jess can't say no to her partner, and they know this, so they devise a little plan

they invite jess over saturday night for a romantic little dinner, and it doesn't take much to talk her into staying the night (it doesn't take any convincing at all actually, jess would rather sleep next to her partner than alone)

the following morning, jess awakes to the alluring aroma of coffee and breakfast, and finds her partner in the kitchen with an excited smile on their face as they set their plan into motion

"get comfy, jones. you and I are having a lazy sunday."

at first jess is confused, but again, she can't say no to her partner. but her partner can see that she's thinking about all the things she has to take care of and determines that jess needs a little push

"jess, you need a day off. a whole day of doing nothing but relaxing. you deserve it, okay? you are not responsible for every person in this city. even though you can do incredible things, you're still human, and you need a break. now sit."

after breakfast, the two snuggle up on the couch for a movie marathon, and jess's partner lets her pick the first movie. although when jess puts on scream, her partner gives her a strange look to which jess comes to her own defense

"it's my comfort movie." "your comfort movie is a slasher?" "shut up, it's a classic. you said I could pick, I picked."

the two spend the day on the couch in their pjs, alternating picks for movies, indulging in various snacks and guilty pleasures, and order a large pizza to split for dinner

jess can't remember the last time she felt so at peace. she was used to everything always being a shitshow, everyone always needing something from her, but all her partner wanted from her was her presence

it made jess feel disgustingly mushy inside, but she found herself looking at her partner instead of the tv and smiling, feeling incredibly lucky to have found someone that genuinely loves her, and cares enough about her to make sure she's taking care of herself

someone to remind her that she's worthy, that she deserves a day off to relax and recharge, that's she's a good person that tries so hard to help people, and overpowers that tiny negative voice in the back of her head with constant words of affirmation

jess feels like she can breathe easier, and even though she isn't a super touchy feely person, she finds herself seeking more of her partner's touch because it makes her feel more at ease

and now that jess has experienced a lazy day with her partner for the first time, she makes it a point to have one together at least once a week if possible, and finds herself looking forward to them like a child looking forward to their birthday

#court's 3k followers celebration #court's 3k friends celebration #the eras tour (court's version)#jessica jones #jessica jones x you #jessica jones x reader #jessica jones request #jessica jones headcannon

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simplydifficultme · 11 months

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i'm not sure if u meant it as a figure of speech but i'd love to hear about ur experience of sharing the artbook with jack too! only if you feel like it of course :)

I think the most notable about the artbook interaction with Jack is, that it is still wild to me that he is now the one who has the one other only version that exists of it at the moment.

So Jack was the who I went to to get my autograph from (just how queues ended up being called) When he saw me he immediately recognized me from the Wesper shooting we had in the morning and he was so excited about my cosplay actually. We talked about it a bit, he even reached over to feel bits of thecoat I have. Saying "that is just actually what it looks like" A bit more banter and he gave me the classic "I am obsessed 💅💅💅." . (He is so gosh dang sweet and kind and genuine, just as everyone always says.) Anyways I'll skip over a bit here but I then showed him the artbook and he was AMAZED! Just like with Kit the next day it took me a bit of clarifying that that was in fact I who made this and didn't get this from somewhere else. ^^''

I pointed out the 0.2. S2 Trailer Wesper moment to him and he mostly sat there kinda not knowing whether to look at me or the artbook. He seemed so actually interested in looking and I just said a million times Thank you bc he kept praising it q-q. So I pointed him to where to sign and he did.

Then obviously I didn't want to take much more time anymore and "wanted" to leave, but he still kind of had his hands on the booklet, looked at it and then at me and to me it seemed as if he would have loved to continue talking and ofc I wanted to but yea I didn't want to hold up the queue much longer. I also knew I would see him again on Sunday for the selfie.

So then what I then had to do was to kind of slooooowly slide away the booklet from him which in that moment It felt like I was taking candy from a child Q-Q

I told him I'll be back tomorrow for the selfie and he was kind of leaning over the table to say bye, telling me he's happy to see me again tomorrow.

I don't know if I made up my mind right then and there but it didn't take me long to remember I had the second version of the artbook with me and that I'd give it to him the next day.

Then SUNDAY:

He of course recognized me since I was still in my Wy cosplay and the first thing I think I say to him after Hi and "you too" to his "good to see you again" was:

"Do you remember this?" as I slide the other version of the artbook over.

and then he hits me with something that I will never forget:

"Yes of course, I was actually talking to the others in green room about it" (I assume that's just what they called the room they had for themselves)

After that my brain cut out for a second. I ofc went like "Realy???" bc wth ???!! MY silly little artbook, worth talking to about to the rest of the cast ???? So then I was even more dead set on giving this artbook to him. I think I said smth else after he said, yes he was indeed talking to the others about it but then I just said.

"You can have it."

And he did actually NOT believe me that I was giving it to him, he was shaking his head in disbelief "no, you are giving this to me?" and I just said Yes! and he kept asking if it was really okay and I of course said yes again. Until he eventually took it along with the other prints and the thank you note he didn't get to read right then and there.

Then we got up to take the selfie :3

#jack wolfe #asocas #asocas2 #wylan van eck #wesper artbook #my stuff #answered #wesper #a storm of crows and shadows #art stuff

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mushyshroomz1 · 1 year

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Part 2 with Mr kitty

You're welcome to stay in Mr. Kitty's home for as long as you want. Mainly because he doesn't plan to let you go, and you have no other items to trade for your freedom. It's not the worst level to be on, but it just makes you wish you were back at home with the family. You don't hate it here, really you're grateful to be cared for. You just hoped the tall entity would allow you to be alone. Every step you take, he'll be watching you. In the rooms, hallways, kitchen, and yes…in the bathroom. Groaning, you peeked from behind the shower curtains to see the entity standing In front of the mirror.

“Oh for goodness’ sake get out!” You shouted, tossing a bottle of shampoo at Mr. kitty. Who caught it and placed it on the bathroom counter. He seemed to be confused by your outburst yet left with hesitation. With a snort, you rinsed out the conditioner from your hair, grabbed a towel and got ready. That's when you noticed he left you a dress.

“It's not…ugly I guess.” You mumbled.

With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom, seeing him sitting on the bed, hunched over with his hands gripping on a hello kitty plushie. When he heard the click of the door, the slender man rushed to you with excitement, circling you in awe. You were wearing a white dress he gave as a gift. You looked even better than he imagined. Absolutely breathtaking.

He took you by your hands, and pulled you to the kitchen for a classic tea party. As grown as he was, he just couldn't help himself. How often does he get to have company that he genuinely adores? Never. You're far more pleasant than his last visitors. Strangers love to stay and eat all the food in the fridge. Never washed their dishes. Tossing their dirty clothes on the floor. Took over the TV. Worse of all, they slept in HIS bed. How disrespectful can humans be? Mr. kitty didn't recall asking for a roommate. So, he sent them away. Cleaning after slobs like them makes his blood boil.

“A…tea party?” You asked the tall figure that shook his hands in anticipation. Letting go, he pulled out a chair, beckoning you to come sit. Which you, of course, do. “Huh?” You glanced up as he gently patted your head. A sign of being good, you supposed. “Thank you Mr. Kitty.” He picked up a notebook and pen before sitting across from you, scribbling down something before turning the notebook around for you to read.

“Please darling, call me Kitty. I'm so happy you decided to join us. I was worried you would be far too annoyed with me.”

You looked from the notebook to him, seeing as he tilted his head, waiting for a response.

“Alright… Kitty. I'm honored to be invited. Thank you for the dress, it's comfy.”

After that, he flipped the page and began writing again. His large hands held such a small pink pen.

“You're quite welcome. If you don't mind me asking. Why were you upset with me?”

You picked up a blueberry muffin from your plate and sighed. “You violated my privacy and made me uncomfortable.”

Kitty clicked the pen a few times, seeming to be lost for words. He looked off with a hand over his cheek. Hanging his head low, he wrote carefully as you ate almost half the large blueberry muffin. Clearing your throat, you picked up your tea for a few sips, before scanning your peepers on the paragraph he wrote.

“I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just worried, is all. Not only that, but I wish for you to be safe in my presence. Darling, I want to make you happy, and if that means leaving you alone. That is perfectly fine. I will cut back and peer my presence away for a moment. I admit that it was rude of me to stare.”

You squint your eyes as you read and frown. “Thank you Kitty. Really, I'm glad we can come to an agreement. I never knew you were afraid to let me out of your sight. Is there a reason why?”

He nodded his head in a rather slow motion.

Apparently, he has an axe in his room for other entities that dare no clip in his territory. It doesn't happen often, really. It's one in a great moon, but possible. It all made sense why he watches over you. Fear. He's frightened he'd lose the one person he has in his life that's keeping him sane. He's still shy, but your presence sparked something within him. All his worries seem to wash away when you're near.

The tea party was a success! Kitty got to know your story. While you got to know some things about him. He's scared of dogs/ bugs. The favorite color is, of course, pink. Loves cute things. Has a family but moved to be alone. It turned into a game of 20 questions.

#level 974 backrooms #mr kitty #what if #x reader

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aquilacalvitium · 5 days

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Rating classics I've read so far (because I'm bored and have been thinking about them)

An Inspector Calls: 4/10

UGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH I attended two different senior schools and as such had to read and study this book TWICE. Don't get me wrong, it's not bad. Not at all. I just got so sick of it! I didn't hate reading it, I wasn't lying my head on the desk wishing I could rip the pages out like I was when I had to read of Mice and Men. Don't be put off by my reaction, I do recommend it as an interesting and compelling who-dunnit type story. But I will never ever read this book again.

Frankenstein: 5/10

It was back in senior school (at least seven or eight years ago) so I don't remember much but it was the only book I was forced to read that I didn't actively hate (if I see a copy of of Mice and Men again I will scream) and started my interest in trying out some classics. Overall, not bad at all, happy I read it but wouldn't read again.

Treasure Island: 6/10

An underrated classic imo. Not half as action-packed as the incredible Disney movie Treasure Planet but still an enjoyable read. Not sure I'd pick it up again, but glad to have read regardless.

Jekyll and Hyde: 8/10

Genuinely really good and fun to read. Not too long so there isn't time for it to get slow and boring like most classics, and the characters are really intriguing and interesting to read about. One of the few classics I would actually pick up again!

The Magician's Nephew: 5/10

Enjoyable enough, certainly an odd story with rather bizarre events, but not really exciting enough to have stuck with me. Well, apart from the last few chapters anyway, which I won't spoil. Probably won't ever read again, I don't think my life or perspective have changed from reading it at all.

Black Beauty: 7/10

A very, very good read. It's simple and straight-forward with enough drama and action to be somewhat exciting, and has a satisfying and happy ending. May read again some day.

Currently working my way through-

Sherlock Holmes, A Study in Scarlet: 5/10

The first half of the novel held my attention like a fly stuck in honey. Very thrilling and intriguing! Unfortunately part two so far has taken such a departure from the story that I simply lost interest. I will continue some day, but I can foresee the next few chapters being quite a drag.

Dracula: 6/10

Very exciting! I was actually on the edge of my seat during some of it! It also has some truly disturbing and horrifying events which elicit no small reaction. Unfortunately it has the same issue as A Study in Scarlet, in that it suddenly took a massive departure from the established story and has become a drag to read. Once again, I will definitely return to it. I'm just praying the story picks up.

#an inspector calls #frankenstein #treasure island #jekyll and hyde #the magician's nephew #black beauty #sherlock holmes #a study in scarlet #dracula #classics #classic novels #aquila thinks #aquila infodumps

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sicksucculentz · 6 days

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Regretavator headcanons: Bive. part 2

She can clack her teeth together very loudly and very fast. She does this when she's happy and or excited about something. She tends to do it it a lot when she gets to spend time with Split. It freaked Split out a little the very first time she saw/heard this. They were having dinner together one night and were seated across from each other at a circular table. Bive was gripping the edges of the table with both hands, she sat leaning forward over the table a little, staring at Split, classic frequently seen grin across her face and loudly clacking her teeth at Split. Split just sat there staring back at her with this slightly scared and concerned look on her face.

Now, Split isn't scared of Bive at their current status but when they first met each other Split thought Bive was going to maul her or something. The twitching, paranoia, fits of delusion, and her sure size scared her off at first. She found even though she was a little freaked out by Bive she was genuinely curious about the strange hairy mess and took a risk spending more time around her and boy is she glad she took that risk.

She likes eating chicken in a particular way. She loves it dry and loves to peal it by strands. Of course she eats it as normal but does the peeling thing while she’s chewing. It’s just entertaining to her. She used her claws to do it.

Split often cooks for her. She doesn't now how to properly cook meats so her meals are vegan. Bive has no issue with this at all and quite enjoys her cooking! Split was the one to introduce her to chickpeas. Bive forgot what they were called when asking for them again later and called them “little sand orbs” because of their gritty texture that reminded her of sand. Split often serves her peppermint or ginger tea with her coffee, helps to settle her stomach.

Bive and Split have dinner with each other every Friday. Lampert and Party Noob come to sometimes!

Bive used to be a ball of lint and dog hair! She formed from this ball of lint and dog hair! She started out looking much like a spider. It took her 28 years to reach the point she’s at now aging her 28 of course. She is cannonly a lab accident apparently as it says in her wiki. She was cared for in the beginning years of her life by 4 different female scientists that she grew to view as mothers. They had to leave her at the lab overnight sense it was illegal to take something made in the lab home so she was completely on her own besides the night guards that sometimes kept her company, most of them were scared of her and didn't want to interact.

Bive will not stop growing and evolving. It took her 28 years to get to her current state and size at about 6 ' 8 and about 300lbs rounding up. She's not done growing at all. Much like the teeth of rodents she grows and grows and grows. The growth and evolutions to her body will not end until something ends her life, it's unknown if she can die of old age. She was kind of adorable as a "baby" she looked a bit like those worms on a string but with little spider like legs. She would scuttle around eating bugs, crumbs, other peoples lunches if left out, snacks left out, small meals given to her by staff, and just about anything she could find and fit in her mouth. She only had 3 teeth on the top and bottom and it took her like 3 years to reach a size big enough to finish a whole sandwich.

A smart cookie she was able to pick up language by creeping around others. Doing this also gave her an insight to more than just English. She knows a tiny amount of Korean, French, German, and Spanish! It's not nearly enough to be fluent though, hell she still fucks English up sometimes.

She tends to know a lot of different things but it's more along the lines of dabbling in the surface level of many different topics. She has one little section of something that she's got a lot of depth in and that tends to be criminal justice. She loves true crime, murder mysteries, and even conspiracies!

#regretevator #regretevator headcanon #regretevator bive #bive #bive headcanons #i'm not done yet #but this word count is pissing me off

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covenofwives · 1 year

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Axolotl Kisses

GeorgeHD wants to visit DreamXD's secret Glade so see what sort of safe space XD made for himself. George is there as well to help show off the wonderful Glade and especially show off XD's axolotl pond.

Surprise

This was a little writing exercise I did a while ago. I was trying out a new writing style based on @mushiewrites writing because his way of writing is so clean and fun. I'm still experimenting but it was fun to do. And thanks to Mushie again for giving me the characters to write with this fic. Classic lee GeorgeHD is always a win.

This could take place sometime in the AU after HD returns to the Overworld. Timeline is a mess right now, don't worry about it.

Enjoy~

~~~

The opalescent glade of DreamXD’s design never had a set spot, it just appeared when the God willed it. If Dream or George had ever needed time alone or away from the troubles of life it was always open and revealed to them. Now that GeorgeHD had returned to the Overworld, it was of course available to them too.

“When you had said you’d made a pocket realm here, this isn’t what I expected.” HD mused aloud as he looked around the glade. He looked over the purpling blades of grass and the blueish leaves of the trees.

“What had you expected?” XD asked.

“Something more…End realm like. I guess something to make you feel more at home.” HD shrugged. “But this isn’t bad. It’s really nice. Peaceful.”

XD beamed up with pride. His shoulders straightened up and the smile was clear even though his face was covered by his mask. George felt an empathetic happiness for the tall blonde God. He had been nervous for XD, ever since George had first mentioned the glade to HD. His older brother had shown interest in seeing it and XD hesitantly agreed. George worried he’d somehow gotten XD in trouble, but it seemed HD was genuinely interested.

“He’s even made a pond for axolotls! See?” George pointed over to the pond near the back of the glade, which HD was already drawn to.

It wasn’t a large pond, but it was wide enough. The bottom of it was glittering like gems and swimming around in the bright clear waters was a herd of axolotls. Dream and George had caught majority of them, bringing them to XD excitedly like children and he would grow the pond bigger with each one they brought.

“You’ve gotten a whole bunch of them.” HD sounded surprised, but interested. He watched the colourful axolotls swim around one another, occasionally swimming up to the surface before they dove back down. Then suddenly, all at once, the amphibians all moved as one and swarmed over to one side of the pond. HD followed their movement, gasping as he saw what they swarmed to. “George! What are you doing?”

The younger brunette was in the process of rolling up his trousers as he had thrown off his shoes. He’d already placed one of his feet into the pond and the axolotl swarmed to him with excited squeaks. He looked up to HD as he placed his other foot into the pond.

“I’m saying hello to the axolotls!” George said like it was an obvious answer, and he stood up in the pond. The side he was on was not that deep at all. The water didn’t even reach George’s knees. The axolotls all swam around him, chirping and pushing their snoots against his ankles and calves.

“Is that safe?” HD’s voice verged on worry as he moved closer to the side of the pond George was on.

“It’s perfectly safe!” XD assured them, coming to HD’s side. “The axolotls love him and Dream. They’re friendly. You should say hello to them.”

HD scoffed at the very idea. “As if I would! I’m about two seconds away from pulling George out! What if they bite him?”

XD and George both quickly assured him that axolotl bites don’t hurt. “It barely feels like anything.” XD added as George reached down into the pond to dip his hand into the pool. “Their bites feel more like a kiss. Like this.”

The blonde God gave soft pinches on HD’s arm, not enough to pull any skin but just enough to feel and HD pulled his arm away.

“S-top it!” HD snapped, trying to control their voice and XD grinned under the mask. “Fine! If you say they’re so friendly, let’s see it then!”

An elated giddiness rose in XD at HD going into the water. He had copied his brother’s action, rolling up his trouser legs and tentatively stepping into the water. The axolotls responded immediately to the new intrusion, majority of them leaving George and swarming to the new person stepping into their pond.

HD did very well to keep calm, even though XD saw the uneasiness in every tension of his muscles. He relaxed a bit more when XD came up behind him, offering silent security, and when the first axolotl booped onto his leg he seemed more at ease.

More axolotls gave more greeting boops and more left George’s side to meet the newcomer to their pond. HD was relaxed more and more when he realised the axolotls were friendly. It was all calm until one of the axolotls ventured lower and HD suddenly wasn’t relaxed.

The squeak scared XD before he realised it came from HD. The stary haired God jumped, squeaking and falling back to sit on the side of the pond.

“What’s wrong?” XD quickly came to HD’s side.

“Th-Thehey bit mehe!” HD tittered out.

“Bit you? They shouldn’t bite, they’re harmless!” George said as he slowly stepped out of the pond.

“They did!” HD whined and slowly pulled his feet out of the water. As soon as they were on dry land he rubbed over his ankles and the top of his foot.

A sense of guilt and puzzlement rose in XD. “An axolotl bite shouldn’t hurt. Did it hurt, HD?”

“It… N-No not exactly.” HD admitted.

XD frowned. HD was bitten but instead of rushing to safety he slowly pulled away like he didn’t want to hurt the axolotls. He rubbed over the spots his ankles had been bit but his lips were turned up in a hiding smile and the colours on his cheeks flowed a soft orange. HD wasn’t hurt, he was…

Realisation struck as suddenly as a bell chime. XD slowly grinned, wishing they had pushed their mask up earlier but they must have had another tell because HD suddenly looked towards them and his cheeks flushed pink.

“XD…” The smaller God spoke in warning, which XD did not heed at all.

“An interesting squeak you made, HD. It didn’t sound like pain either.”

HD had shuffled from the pond’s edge, looking to XD and George who had slowed behind a sitting XD, looking at the two Gods with confusion.

“I-It wasn’t of pain. It didn’t hurt. I was surprised, is all.” HD excused.

“Didn’t hurt but you did feel it. Hmmm.”

“XD! Don’t…”

“Don’t what, HD? What could I possibly be saying?”

“Oh!” George suddenly burst out, with a half laugh in his voice. “It tickled.”

“George! Shush! It did not!”

The blush glowing on HD’s cheeks was a dead give away he was lying. The smile he was desperately trying to hide grew more and more when XD shuffled closer to him. HD raised his hand, pointing at the offending God. “Don’t you dare! Get AWAY!”

The Gods ended up in a scuffle as XD pounced. It was a very short scuffle of course from HD’s end as XD had him perfectly held against the taller God’s chest. His arms pinned down to his side as both sets of arms hugged around him.

“EHEX DEHEHE! STOP! Get off!”

“Are you so ticklish that even your ankles are ticklish, HD?” XD whispered into his ear, making HD shudder and try to shrug his shoulders. The wrestling match between the two gave XD a good excuse to rid himself of his mask.

“S-Stohop!”

“Go and try them George.”

Suddenly reminded that yes, they had a witness to this exchange, HD’s eyes snapped onto George who was excitedly making his way over to HD’s legs. “NO! Geohorge! No! I’ll kick you! I swear it!”

“No you won’t.” George taunted with that smug smile HD was so used to. It was the smile that knew he wouldn’t get into trouble. He grabbed hold of one of HD’s ankles, pulling the leg out straight and immediately holding it down with his own leg.

“I think he’s got your ankle HD.”

“NOHO! G-Geohohorge! L-Let go!”

“Where did it tickle, HD?” George asked, completely ignoring the plight of his brother. “Did it get you here?” George poked on the bone, giggling with glee when HD jumped. “Or up here?” He poked the front of the ankle.

“NEeheither!” HD pulled at his arms held by XD. He tried turning his head and hiding in his shoulders or turning enough to hide in XD’s neck, but the blonde God moved himself out of HD’s way and HD was stuck. “Plehease!”

George slowly traced his finger back around to the small bump on HD’s ankle. He ran his finger round and around the shape, before turning his fingers up and scritching his nails along HD’s ankle. He went down, close to HD’s foot but never touching his sole and back up again.

The same squeak that jumped HD out of the pond came back again, and this time dissolved into a spew of giggles. HD’s other foot kicked out, which was just a mistake because now both his legs were caught by George. He curled his own legs around his older siblings, and tickled over the top of HD’s feet, slowly skittering his fingers down and around his ankles. George’s fingers fluttered over the side of HD’s heel and HD’s giggles kicked up into laughter and then pleadful howls.

“Mmm, that does look like it tickles, HD.” XD cooed in the smaller God’s ear. “Did the little axolotl’s nibble tickle? Their little chomps too tickly for your ankles? Who knew you have ticklish ankles to go along with your feet.”

“S-St-Stahahap! Plehease!” HD gasped out between the waves of laughter, ranging from soft breathy chuckles to loud squeals as George traced his fingers around every inch of the God’s ticklish ankles. “I-I’m behegging you! Plehehehease!”

XD only smiled, and gave a gentle blow into HD’s pink ear. If they were really wanting it to stop, HD could have easily broken out of XD’s arms. They’re legs were trapped because they wanted them to be, knowing at any time when the tickling was too much they could easily pull out of George’s grasp.

HD was trapped in the grasp of George and XD because they were just as curious about their ticklish ankles as George and XD were.

That thought made XD smile wider, and gave another puff of air to HD’s still red ear.

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!georgehd #ler!george #ler!dreamxd

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