#// i'm gonna. try to be here later. regardless.

[yeleltaan]

// Plotting call! Like this post if you'd like me to go into your DMs so we can talk ideas and see what we want to do going forward!

[qlasscannon]

hm. in his modern verses, iggy has his tongue pierced.

[medicinemane]

I'm very tired, I have to do everything around the house myself (as in, I keep having to turn the water off and on to the kitchen sink until I teach myself to install a new faucet, and negative cleaning gets done if I don't do it), and the money is in the hands of the third worst person in the whole family when it comes to money (the worst being my grandpa who is dead, and my grandma who blows all her money on overpriced jackets and other junk)

I'm very tired, I have to teach myself how to do everything, and I have almost literally no support in any way shape or form ever

I can't remember the last time anyone said they were proud of me... I don't actually know if anyone's ever used that word with me before. When I do something like get the trailer cleaned out or buy a house, frankly no one gives a fuck, except my grandma who gets mad

I haven't actually had a chance to see anyone that counts as a friend in like 15 years, and I mean even in high school everyone liked me but no one could be bothered to actually ever even talk outside school... so even back then it's not like I had anyone I was close with

I'm providing this version where I totally remove how I feel or how I view myself from the description and instead try to provide something close to an objective description of things

So if you wonder why I say what I say about myself, honestly I think it's pretty much all summed up here

[tpwk-formula1]

It Was Obvious - LN4

Lando Norris x Fewtrell Twin reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N Fewtrell have been seeing each other since just before the season started, what happens when they all go on vacation for summer break and are forced to continue and try to hide their relationship.

TW - NOT EDITED, lowkey mad cheesy, some fluff, talks of slight anxiety, secret relationship

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Lando, he's going to kill us if he catches you in here," I whisper to my boyfriend of 6 months, who is currently in my room pulling me in for another kiss.

"I'm willing to fight," Lando whispers again before kissing me again. It was a rushed make out session knowing we didn't have much time making me feel like I was back in year 10 hiding my boyfriend from my parents. But instead of my parents not knowing it's my twin brother who just so happens to be Lando's best friend.

"I love you," I whisper when he pulls away. I see the light blush crawl up his neck before settling on his cheek showing that regardless of how long we have been together we still get the giddy feelings.

"I love you too," he whispers back before slipping out of my room presumably going to his or Max's.

It's not even ten minutes later before another knock rings out through my room making me think Lando is coming back in already..

"Come in," I call out not moving from my bad. When the door opens to reveal Pietra I relax slightly knowing I don't have to worry about my twin coming in and finding out the truth had it been Lando.

"I wanna talk to you," P tells me softly making me sit up and start to feel some anxiety sink in, not knowing what she wants to talk about.

"Im not picking sides in the divorce," I joke softly making her laugh and shake her head.

"I'm not breaking up with your brother," P tells me softly making me laugh cause I knew damn well she wasn't trying to talk to me about that.

"So you and Lando?" She asks with a smirk on her face. I instantly feel all the air in the room leave making it increasingly more difficult to breathe.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down! I'm not here to get anyone in trouble. I just wanna know more information," P tells me softly when she notices the panic starting to take over my body.

"Please don't tell anyone," I whisper out not knowing how to to trust anyone right now.

"I won't tell anyone. I think it's something you and Lando will need to do on your own time," she tells me with a smile making me relax a little bit more.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks me with a smile. I nod my head with a smile knowing I haven't been able to talk about my relationship with anyone but my mom.

"We started dating in February shortly after Max dragged you and I to that stupid golf thing. We had been talking before that but after Lando got wasted and couldn't take care of himself I went back home with him and pretty much babysat him until he went to sleep. The next morning he woke up and he set up a really cute brunch where he asked me out," I tell her with a smile making her smile with me.

"How did you figure it out?" I ask making her laugh out loud.

"Girl I love you to death but you guys are terrible at sneaking around. We've been here for for two days and everytime I can't find you, Lando just so happens to be missing as well, so I decided to spy on yall. Well kind of, I just so happened to be coming out of the bathroom when he was leaving your room and I truly wouldn't have thought anything of it but I was already suspecting you guys," she tells me making me nod.

"I think Lando and I are gonna make Max to lunch and tell him. I'm tired of lying to him and hiding my relationship," I tell her making her nod and smile.

"I think it's about time 'cause that was almost 7 months ago," she laughs out. I laughed with her happy to know she was happy for me and supported my relationship.

We're nearing the end of our trip and I have decided it was time. Keegan was already making jokes about us being together and thankfully Max was brushing them off as a joke but I'm sure he's going to start realizing the truth.

"Hey Max, I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch later?" I ask softly not wanting to give too much information and try to pass it off as twin bonding.

"Ya, we could go to that one restaurant you've been begging to since we arrived," Max says with a laugh.

"I saw it on TikTok and it looked amazing," I reply back showing my excitement.

I make sure to text Lando the plan and while I plan to tell Max just us I want Lando nearby incase he wants to talk to both of us.

We're halfway through our meal when I finally drop my fork and clear my throat.

"I have to tell you something," I tell him making him drop his fork and roll his eyes jokingly.

"I knew you didn't just want to hang out with me," he jokes making both of us laugh.

"Ya, um but you have to promise to hear me out before getting upset," I tell him suttering in stress a little making him focus on me completely.

"So, please don't be upset but, landoandiareseeingeachother," I breath out in one breath talking too fast for anyone to understand.

"Try again and breathe this time," Max says trying to stay calm at the situation.

"Lando and I are dating," I tell him refusing to look at him. When I meet his eyes I he is giving me the most disbelief look possible.

"Are you kidding me?" Max asks in pure disbelief making me grow increasingly more nervous.

"I promise he's a good one," I quickly come to defend my partner.

"You thought I didn't know?" Max rephrases his statement making it clear he already knows.

"You knew!" I announce being quite a bit louder than I had hoped.

"I've known since Miami. I mean that confirmed it but I definitely caught on before that," Max tells me slightly stunned that I didn't realize.

"I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. Besides its been funny watching you and Lando try to sneak around all this time," Max tells me laughing slightly.

"So you don't care?" I ask him trying to get clarification. He just shook his head no.

"What about P?" I asked just getting curious to the situation now.

"What about her?" Max asks, clearly confused now.

"She came into my room earlier in the trip and asked me about it," I tell him, giving him some more detail about the conversation.

"Oh, no I didn't tell anyone I knew. Meaning she also caught on to your guy's terrible sneaking," Max laughs before adding, "Hell, even Keegan caught on."

I just laughed at that before sending Lando a quick text to let him know he could come in if he wanted. When he met us at the table Max explained to both of us how he caught on and when he realized we both had feelings for each other, which had been long before we started talking.

"Hey but if you break her heart I will pay Verstappen to take you out," Max tells Lando as we are walking back to the beach house we rented for the week.

That just made Lando laugh before telling him he wouldn't dare hurt me.

It was nice being able to spend the last few days of break not having to hide my relationship.

[daryldove]

Burn

kinktober #1: aphrodisiac

nsfw, daryl x fem!reader

You loved the forest. It was calming and peaceful. Despite how nice the Greene farm was, there was something about it that made you feel exposed. Here, among the trees, you feel protected.

Sun rays peek through the leaves, guiding you along as you pick up any edible vegetation you can find. As well as any pretty flowers you think Lori or Carol might appreciate. A bright pink mushroom stops you in your tracks.

You scavenged a book recently about all local Georgian flora, eagerly reading it front to back until you had it memorised. Even then, you'd sometimes clarify with Daryl, who knew a thing or two from his life of growing up in the woods. But this mushroom wasn't something you recognised.

You crouch carefully, staring at the thing while you consider your options. Maybe Daryl would know what it is. It was pretty regardless, and even poisonous mushrooms could be touched in most cases, so you add it to your basket without a second thought. After a little more walking, you trudge over to where Daryl's tent sits secluded from the rest.

You weren't technically friends, but you liked visiting him after your time in the forest. The first time you announced you were going out alone to forage, he looked worried, warning you not to “get lost like some dumbass.” You stopped by his tent later that day, mostly to prove you're alive and breathing. He curiously peered into your basket, and then sharing your finds with him became a regular occurrence then. He appreciated the visits, despite acting indifferent, finding you the most agreeable person by far in their little group. So he didn't mind so much.

You break out from the trees as you feel your body heating up. It was a little odd, but you chalk it up to the Georgian heat. By the time you reach Daryl's tent, however, you're stumbling and panting as your body burns.

“Daryl-” You choke out, voice layered with panic. His tent flap flies open after some rustling, and he rushes over to your side, frowning.

“You okay?” His accent thickens with his concern as he helps guide you inside, sitting you down on the cot. All you can do is grunt, desperately ripping off your light shawl. Why is it so hot? Daryl lifts your chin gently, trying to get you to focus enough to tell him what's wrong. It takes everything in you to not whine.

You shake your head, starting to explain that you don't know. He runs his gaze over you, pulling at your limbs to check for a walker bite. Nothing. His gaze shifts to your basket, desperate for any answer. He freezes as he spots the pink mushroom, swearing under his breath.

Daryl fidgets for a second, biting his thumb nervously before disappearing with your basket in hand to dispose of it. It feels like hours he's gone and by the time he comes back, you're practically writhing on his cot. He crouches by your side, running his hand over your hair soothingly. You give him a look. He knows what's wrong, but he doesn't seem keen on telling you. He clears his throat.

“it's an aphrodisiac, that pink mushroom,” you frown as he explains, confusion laced with worry. “Ain't gonna kill ya, just painful if you're not being uh… stimulated.”

…Stimulated?

Oh.

Your body somehow feels hotter, and now all you can think about is how nervous and flushed Daryl looks at your side.

“Help me.” You feel just as shocked you said that out loud as he looks. He doesn't hesitate to shake his head.

“Nah, you're not in your right min-”

You cut him off. “I'm asking before I'm not in the right mind.”

He sighs, chewing on his thumb nervously again as he looks over your flushed body. Clearly considering it. When he finally speaks again, his voice is raspy. “Fine.”

Your clothes are off before you know it, face down in Daryl's pillow as he takes time to stretch you out with his fingers. Surrounded by his scent and touch, you can't decide if it's too much or not enough. “Hurry, please.” You arch your back further into his hold.

“Patience, woman.” He pulls back anyways, unbuckling his belt as swiftly as he can. He handled the mushroom as carefully as he could, so why does he feel like he needs you so desperately?

You sigh into his pillow as he rubs the head of his dick at your entrance before pushing in slowly. Despite how it felt like he took forever preparing you, he feels massive once he's fully inside. “God-”

Daryl doesn't wait to start moving his hips, his hands gripping either side of your waist to pull you back against him. You moan loudly with every thrust, causing Daryl to yank you up so he can press a hand over your mouth. His grunts and pants are directly by your ear now. “Gotta be quiet.”

You can't focus. Whether it's the mushroom or him, you can't tell. He seems to sense it somehow, the underlying burn of the aphrodisiac and how desperate you are to quell it. He holds you up as best he can, snaking his free hand down to rub over your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling back. You cum then, intense and unexpected. He lets your body rest mostly back onto the bed, but he doesn't stop.

He keeps fucking you through it, one hand still over your mouth and the other rubbing circles over your sensitive core until you're cumming again. Only then does he pull away. Pumping himself through his own orgasm, he grabs your ass as he comes onto it.

You collapse onto the bed, exhausted. Despite dealing with the effects of the aphrodisiac, there's still a warmness inside of you. A comforting kind. Daryl plops down on the bed next to you, as far away as the tiny bed allows. His expression is unreadable, but you work up the courage to shift closer anyway. He bites his lip, looking a little nervous again. You can't resist cupping his face.

“Do you regret it?” His tone is laced with melancholy, and there's a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes. Like he's expecting a yes.

“Do you regret helping me?”

“Nah.” You both huff out a tired laugh at the ridiculousness of everything that just happened. At least now you have each other.

[minus-plus-zer0]

He Hears You Talking About Him

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

Bakugou sat at his desk, his mood soured by the rain this morning. His classmates filed into the classroom early around him, but he paid them no mind. He rested his head on his hand, with his nose in his textbook.

But of course, his ears perked up when he heard your voice announcing your presence. You chatted animatedly with Ashido as you walked over to your desk, which happened to be right behind his. As you conversed with your friend, you passed by him and gave him a quick pat on the head, to which he briefly shared a tender glance with you.

But what he was even more interested in was what you were saying. Because he was starting to realize you were talking about him.

You set your backpack down at your desk. "And I gave him the nicest, sweetest, softest hugs! And he looked so pleased!"

"No way!" Ashido said, like the subject of their conversation wasn't within earshot. "Him? Pleased? Did you cast some sort of brainwashing spell on him?"

"No no no!" you whined. "I really mean it, he's the sweetest guy ever. He bought me flowers the other day because he knew I loved them. I've still got them in my dorm room next to my bed so I see them when I wake up every morning. And he looked so satisfied knowing I was taking good care of what he gave me. He's really not as bad as everyone says he is. He's kind, and loyal, and affectionate, and funny, and--"

"That better be me you're talking about," he said, without raising his head from his desk.

"Uh oh!" Ashido said, leaning on your desk. "Bakugou knows when he's being called out!"

"Shut. Up."

"Of course I'm talking about only you, Katsuki!" you said, poking him in the back with a pencil. "You are one of the best boyfriends I've ever had! Thank you so much for being so cute!"

Bakugou really tried to keep a sour expression fixed onto his face but it wasn't working. He wasn't really sure how to react, but he really enjoyed hearing everything you said. He honestly wasn't sure if he was bad boyfriend material or if his standards for himself were too high as you once suggested, but he always wanted to show you he loved you as much as you loved him and he needed you to know this regardless of how grouchy he seemed. Bakugou never wanted you to feel unloved just because he couldn't express himself properly. You, on the other hand, were much more open with your feelings. That was another thing he needed to surpass you on.

"Look! Look at your boyfriend!" Ashido lightly tugged on your arm. "You made him happy! I've never seen him that weird type of frustrated and happy!"

"Really?" You peered over at him, trying to see his face. "I hope you are happy, Katsuki!"

Bakugou felt terrible about not being able to respond to your affections in kind. He didn't like how you gave it away freely, yet nobody returned your affection at the same level.

Bakugou stood from his seat and then pulled you over by the arm.

"What are you--"

"Come here."

He kissed you for the first time in front of all your classmates. You had already both kissed in private, but his lips felt new and exciting when everybody watched. You could hear some gossiping in the far distance, but your mind tuned it out when his hands met your hair.

He let you go. He gazed upon you like you were the sweetest thing in his life.

"Dummy," he said. "Thank you."

He gave you a final kiss on the cheek and then returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened.

Ashido squealed and dragged you back over to her. "Oh my gosh! Why did he just kiss you? I've never seen him kiss anyone!"

"See?" you said. "What I'd tell you? He's very sweet! And he's my best friend! He also once told me I'm his first girlfriend and he's gonna treat me right. Isn't that so romantic?"

And so you and Ashido continued to jabber on about your boyfriend, who was still unfortunately within earshot. But Bakugou was determined to fully pay you back later for your sweetness, one way or another. He just needed to figure out how to outdo you once and for all.

Little did you know, you made his rainy day a whole lot better!

(Just needed to get some quick thoughts out of my head and onto a page for once)

[wolviensabes]

Pajamas and Lingerie.

RQ: 'Been thinking abt the idea of the reader surprising Logan with Deadpool themed lingerie of PJs to annoy him and then BAM it’s now single wear bc he’s jealous 🤭 If you wanna write it, I’d love to see your take on this req 💖💖' - @smokeywhalee

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ; F!reader, spanking, fingering, slight orgasm denial, some teasing and dominant Logan. Did not edit, possibly later ignore errors ty.

A/N: Sorry this took forever. I'm working on multiple requests at once so I try to get out as many as I can. Jealous Lo is my fav <3 I hope it's okay I made it nsfw, I couldn't help it. I hope you enjoy this one!

WC: 2.1k

"Oh god," Logan growled out with deep annoyance and disgust at what you wore. Red pajamas with Deadpool's mask printed all over them. He could see the lingerie portion on top, and your pajama pants were covering the lacy bottoms you had on. Still, he stared with rooted irritation at the fact you were decked out in Wade's colors and his damned mask printed all over you.

"You don't like them?" You feigned, tilting your head and spinning in a circle, Logan's eyes staring at you with a blank, unamused expression. The man shifted where he was on the bed and scoffed at you.

"Where the hell did you even get those?" He asked, taking a drag of his cigar. Part of his tone said that he didn't really want to know, but he asked regardless. He had a weird feeling Wade had them made for you so it would irritate him. Well, that walking mouth succeeded in annoying Logan.

"Wade made them for me," you replied with a smile, bingo. Right on the money.

"Take that off. I don't wanna see his damn fact plastered on ya." He waved his hand at you, almost as if to shoo you away. You could tell he was starting to come to a bad mood, so you tried to sweeten it up. "I have pajamas for you too~"

His head shot up and he grunted deeply, "Hell no."

"Come on, please?" you begged, drawing out your pleads and doing the very best puppy eyes look you could muster. It wasn't enough for Logan, whom turned away and scoffed.

'That ain't gonna work, pup." He took another drag of the cigar he had and gave you a short glare. "And what did I say? Take those off. Or I will." His tone was set and firm, yet...you couldn't help but feel yourself clench. God he was hot when he was annoyed.

"What if I don't?" you retorted bravely, feeling a surge of defiance that made you feel like a brat. This unexpected challenge caught Logan's attention immediately, and he turned his head back to you with a swift, almost predatory motion. The intense look in his eyes made you stiffen, your breath catching in your throat, and a strange mix of fear and excitement boiled in your belly. His gaze seemed to pierce through you, making your heart race even faster.

"Come here." he said firmly, putting the cigar down, his finger pointing down to the ground in front of him. You stiffened and swallowed, you felt nervous but excited, looking forward to where this was going. You could see the fire burning in his eyes, staring at your choice of pajamas.

The moment you were in front of him, he grabbed you and he made a fist with his other hand, those silver claws shooting out like bullets. He carefully let them drag across your abdomen, right above the waistline of the pajama bottoms before he pushed them down and he tore them off you. The bottoms turned into stray pieces of uneven fabric by the time he was done. He let out some steam once they were off you, going as far as tearing pieces into even smaller ones.

"Fuckin' Wade put you up to this...thinks it's funny to have ya wear his face?" Logan glared up at you, "You like gettin' me worked up, is that it? You little brat." He grabbed you and he pulled you over his knee. "Well, if you wanna be a brat...then I'll treat you like one."

You barely had time to register what was going on before his rough hand came down on your ass. It didn't hurt, it was sort of like a warning or experimental smack. When his hand collided with your backside you let out a natural gasp from the sensation. Your cheeks burned from embarrassment and arousal. He took his cigar up and took a long drag from it once more, the smell took some getting used to at first, but it was more tolerable than a cigarette, plus it mixed with his natural musk well.

"Naughty girl. You like this don't you? Pissin' me off..." he growled out and smacked your ass again, a little harder this time. His calloused hand marked your ass with each smack. Those precious little sounds you made urged him on, making him smirk with satisfaction as you wriggled around. Your hands searched for something to grab, he watched the pretty skin of your ass turn red and he grinned.

"Not so bratty now, are ya?" he huffed and stopped after a handful of spanks, looking down at you as you tried to squirm out of his lap. "Not so fast, princess. Sit still and take it." Logan ordered you, feeling the round of your ass and rubbing the red skin. He dipped his fingers down and he felt between your soft legs, letting out a short laugh, nearly a snort. "Wet, huh?"

"S-shut up..." you blushed darkly from shame, you didn't know how turned on you'd be from being spanked. You hadn't been spanked before, maybe you got spanked once or twice as a child, but it was so long ago you had forgotten about it. You knew Logan wouldn't let you live this down either, he was eating this up and he'd probably tease you forever.

Before another thought could cross your mind, his thick fingers pressed into your pussy, they stroked your slit before pushing into your tight hole. It made you gasp in surprise, you were so wet he didn't have to spit on his fingers at all. Two of his fingers slowly pumped you before working up to a quicker pace. You let out moan after moan, occasionally making a sweet squeal as he expertly curled against that special spot deep inside.

"Logan! Mmn, ugh, fuck..." Your hands found the sheets and fisted them tight. Your hips lifted off his lap slightly and pushed into his hand, your clear need and eagerness wasn't unnoticed. In fact, it just urged the primal mutant on even more. His fingers curled against that spot again, making your shaking legs stiffen as pleasure shot through your body.

"There it is," he continued to curl his fingers, that sweet, spongy spot that gave you so much pleasure was being constantly stimulated. "He ain't gonna get ya like this, ever. You wanna tease me, get me to make ya shake and whine?" Logan's words filled your head but honestly the pleasure you were getting from his fingers kept you from responding normally.

"Answer me." he laid a light smack with his free hand, grunting at you. Your brain was mush, god his fingers were thick and perfect inside you. The way he was manhandling you so much and spanking you like the brat you were was so hot, your pussy clearly told him how you felt.

He wasn't satisfied with just those nice sounds you made, so he grabbed your right leg and flipped you, you laid on your back now and his fingers returned to your warm cavern, listening to how wet you sounded as his fingers worked you. "So needy...your face is so red. Do you like this pretty girl? You like when I handle ya around?"

"Uh-huh...." you nodded, pathetically trying to respond. By now your inner thighs were soaked and you coated his fingers and palm with your juices, he looked at your pussy and gently pulled up on the skin, looking at your clit. The bud was swollen and a little redder than normal, clearly wanting stimulation. He tilted his head and smiled, the pad of his thumb gently teasing it and rolling over it in circles.

"Logan!" You couldn't help the moan and buck your hips into his touch, he knew what he was fucking doing. Giving you just enough, but not too much to push you over the edge. It was so frustrating. You whined and squirmed, trying to encourage him to give you more with your little hip movements and whimpering. The bastard kept his smug smile as he watched you, feeling satisfied with himself.

"Use your words, princess. I can't read your mind, do I look like Chuck?" he carefully circled your clit with his index finger, his other hand kept two buried in your wet cunt, slowing the movements and watching your desperation grow with each passing second.

It took all the willpower in you not to scream at him to let you cum already. You knew better than to demand something from him, the more you demanded something from him, the more he'd withdraw it from you. You couldn't make him let you cum, he uses denial as a punishment, and god does he love punishing you with something so simple, yet effective.

"Don't think I forgot what you came in with. You think it's funny to tease me with something like that?" he asked, his fingers pressed up into your sweet spot, but they were still. The light pressure send electric shocks down to your toes, it wasn't enough. You needed more. You needed him to let you cum, you hoped he'd show you mercy.

Your eyes burned with tears as you whimpered and whined, really pouting like a child. Like the brat you were. The desperate, needy, pitiful little brat. It just made him smirk down at you, his hand moved from your clit to your breast, gently groping and then pinching your nipple. He listened to the new sound you made, his fingers rolling the bud around. "Maybe I'll just play with these, let you get so, so wet and beg for me..."

"Nooo," you whined, just like the needy girl he turned you into. He knew just how to work you, just what to do, just where to touch. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he memorized every inch of you. Literally inside, and out.

"Come on...beg. I know you want to." Logan chuckled and leaned closer, setting the cigar down and blowing the smoke away. The smoke tickled your nose as it barely blew over your face. "Come on...you like it don't you? Just beg, a few little words..."

"Please! Please, just let me cum already!" you whined out to him, your hips unable to keep still by now. You could feel the obvious boner in his jeans and knew he wasn't going to hold back for long if you continued your little movements.

Logan sighed, looking down and giving you a scolding glance, "No, no...that's not good enough sweetheart. Beg like you mean it." His fingers slowly began to retract and your eyes widened. All hell...

"No! Don't take them out...fuck! Fine!" You groaned loudly, "Please, let me cum...please, I need it...look at me!" You couldn't help yourself, you sounded so pitiful, your watery eyes looked at him and silently pleaded for him to make you cum.

Your pleading was satisfying enough. Logan's fingers plunged back and curled up, that sweet motion that you needed. Your gasp and eager bucking urged him on, and he toyed with your sensitive clit. His finger rubbing it in just the right way you liked. You had enough slick for his calloused pad to slide all over it and the texture of his finger felt just as good.

"Cum for me, princess. You begged for it," Logan growled out, looking at your red face, your cheeks damp from the intense pleasure. "Pretty girl, that's it...I feel you're getting close..." His fingers could feel you clenching and you were more slick now, your body preparing for your impending orgasm. Your chest rose and fell, he watched your chest as it moved and he chuckled, his fingers doing a little bit more and...there it came.

You cried out, your back arched and you moaned loudly. Your pussy tightened and you came all over his fingers, soaking his hand and lap. Your gentle voice cried his name in ecstasy, Logan groaned and he was painfully pressed against his zipper. "Goddamn..." he grunted, withdrawing his fingers when your body relaxed. He pulled his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, making you mewl and cover your face. "Good girl...look at this mess you made..."

The whimper that left your trembling lip was barely audible as you sat up and looked at the soaked spot below you, his jeans were wet and you could see his hard on struggling to remain contained in his jeans. He grunted and palmed himself as he carefully sat up, looking down at you. "I think you need another little punishment for that, don't you agree?" His dark gaze eyed the pajama pants you brought in for him, a low snarl escaping his lips and he gave a slight eye roll.

"I need to remind you who you belong to, princess...and you will wear me instead of that..." he growled, leaning over you as he pulled you closer, your bare pussy rubbed his jeans and felt how hot he was around his crotch. "What do you say, sweetheart...hm?"

"Please..." you barely got out, knowing what you are in for. Jealous Logan was about to ruin you.

"Good girl..."

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[frostyhelltime]

Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You Part 2

Alastor x GN!Reader

AN: I'm so happy so many people seem to like this so far! I hope you all enjoy this part 2! Now I'm gonna get back to working on my inbox. I'm loving the requests I'm seeing come in so feel free to keep sending them in! ❤️ And as I said in the preview I tend to write Alastor from more of a demisexual lenses since it's on the ace spectrum and I also largely consider myself demisexual if that helps to know for this.

Link to part 1 is right HERE.

Alastor is a planner. Always has been and likely always will be. He has different plans and scenarios for almost every occasion, and has backup plans for most any issue he could ever encounter. Suffice to say, it made him a terrible person to try and out maneuver. But it was especially difficult when you weren't even aware of the game of chess he was playing.

So he does what he does best, plan. It's easier to focus on the goal of ensnaring you instead of really analyzing his own complicated feelings. He starts small, not wanting to throw you off too harshly. It had to be subtle. He starts doing things that wouldn't…necessarily be odd, considering his personality, but they're still things he hasn't really done before. 

Such as pulling your chair out for you when you go to sit down. It's not too odd. A gentlemanly thing to do. But he can tell from the look on your face that you're struggling to remember if this is a new behavior or if he's always done it and you just never noticed.

He went out of his way to accompany you when possible, more so than usual. Especially if it was into a less desirable part of town. But still, nothing changes. It honestly vexes him because he doesn't even quite know how he fell for you, so he couldn't even attempt to replicate it to make you fall for him in turn. 

Perhaps subtle was the wrong way to go? Perhaps he should be a little more…forward? 

He again starts small, not wanting to startle you, but it seems it does regardless. In hindsight him reaching for you first instead of the other way around was certainly something novel and new, so it made sense it surprised you the first few times he placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked, a gesture of affection, protection, and possession all at once.

He would almost wonder if he was doing something wrong if he hadn't seen that delightful little dusting of pink across your cheeks each time he does it.

It's then he realizes that due to his….general nature and lack of romantic relationships, that you're likely trying to justify all of his actions as extremely friendly rather than the subtle flirtations he meant them to be.

Which annoyed him until a hint of mischief crossed his face with a realization. If you thought he was just being extraordinarily friendly…he could perhaps be even…more bold without fully showing you his hand yet.

Yes, he could certainly have fun with that.

He's thinking later on that day about how he could torment you with his affections when he passes by the library and sees you struggling, quite poorly, to reach a book. 

His grin grows imperceptibly wider as he silently approaches behind you. He weighs his options on how he should go about it and eventually decides to lean over, until his lips are almost flush to your ear.

“Do you need any help mon cœur?” He almost purrs in your ear and he has to admit there is a certain thrill and exhilaration unlike what he's used to feeling, when you jump from how close his voice is. 

“A-Alastor! I…I didn't realize you were there.” You managed to squeak out as you felt his claws rest on the crook of your waist. The proximity, touch, and whispered voice is clearly a lot for you since he can see your blush has even spread to the tips of your ears. 

How cute. He wonders what other parts of you can so plainly show your feelings because of him? Ah but he's losing focus now.

“Oh, my apologies. How rude of me not to greet you! Hello there.” He hasn't moved his mouth an inch, his voice brushing against you like velvet as he speaks. As soon as he does actually greet you, one of his hands captures yours and brings it to his lips, and he's  able to hear the slight hitch in your breath as he does so. It's certainly a sound he's quickly become a fan of, that he wants to hear over and over again. He once again allows his mind to wander for just a moment on other ways he could have you make that sound for him. But then he's focused once more, his hand dropping yours and snatching the book you appeared to be reaching for with ease before leaning back down to whisper in your ear.

“Is this what you needed mon cœur?” He continues to drawl sweetly in your ear as he repeats the pet name that still manages to make you flush and fidget nervously despite not knowing what the hell he was even saying. He noticed the pet names seemed to make you feel some type of way when they were French, even though he's called you darling and dear and various other things in English more than a few times. But no matter. He doesn't really care about the reasoning behind it, just excited he has another tool in his arsenal to ensure you turn your gaze to him instead of some pathetic sinner that thought they had a chance with you. He can feel his ears flatten slightly in agitation at the mere thought, but thankfully you're unable to see in your current position so he gives nothing away.

He sees he isn't the only one to get lost in his thoughts, since you haven't responded yet, and he's oh so curious to know what is going on in that head of yours. But another time. For now he was making such progress, he feels.

His chuckle in your ear is dark and low, but warm like honey before his voice rings out again, laced with amused curiosity.

“Mon cœur?”

You snap to attention at that, as if just remembering he was even there.

“Y-Yep! That's the book! Thank you!” 

The little stutter was cute, he admits. Especially when he knows he caused it. But he thinks this is enough for now, to help lead your mind down less…platonic roads. The idea was to have you approach him, to maintain that illusion of control. Like you thought of it, and approached him and he'll pretend to entertain the idea before giving it a shot.

But it's fine you were taking a while to grow the courage. He was a very patient man, and the way he was clearly driving you up the wall with his back and forth actions was certainly entertaining enough in the meantime.

“Glad to be of service!” His normal radio host cadence was back again as he pulled away, his touch leaving you entirely, and he's sure it leaves a cold spot in his absence that he's sure you notice, since he can feel the same sharp contrast of the lack of warmth on him from where you're no longer touching.

He seems so cheerful and carefree that it almost makes you wonder if you had hallucinated this whole interaction. But by the time you spin around to talk to him, he's already gone. But even from the shadows he can see the way your flushed face and wide eyes search the room for him, hand over your heart as if you could will your heartbeat to slow. He's certain you must be feeling a sense of whiplash from the drastic change in demeanor and he watches as you lean back against the shelves, holding the book and shaking your head a moment.

“I feel like I'm going crazy…” He watched you mutter and it only made him smile more. So his actions were effective after all. You were just trying very hard to be respectful and polite to him since you knew his nature so well…an endearing gesture that just made him want to sink his claws even deeper into you. 

Knowing his actions affect you just emboldens him further. When you share coffee the next morning with him and the two of you chat, tucked away in whatever room seemed to strike your fancy that day, he notices you seem to be avoiding his eyes, your head tilted down.

He tuts a moment, putting his coffee down and using one claw to tilt your head upward to face him, using his other hand to brush your hair away from your face to stop obscuring his attempts to look at you.

“There we are. Much better.” He smiles brightly at you, even as he sees the crimson rush to your cheeks. He lets his hands linger a little longer than needed before he releases you and picks his coffee cup back up again, as if what he's done wasn't abnormal in the slightest.

“A-Alastor…?” He hears you ask tentatively, and he thinks his patience is finally going to pay off.

“Yes mon cœur?” He asks, tilting his head to the side in an innocent manner that is a laughable contrast to what you know of the radio demon's legacy and reputation.

“I..” He leans forward slightly, eager for your expected confession, his eyes drifting down to your throat as he watches you swallow thickly from nerves.

“...I…n-nevermind. I…forgot what I was going to say.” You eventually give up and his shoulders slump just the slightest bit in disappointment although his smile doesn't falter, although it is strained.

“...No worries. When it comes back to you, I've always got an open ear available for you.” He assures you, although inside he sighs. How can he make you crack? He wants to make you crack before he does, to maintain that illusion of control and so you don't realize the power you possess of how much he could give you if you only asked. He's thinking again, a peaceful quiet settled over the both of you as you each are lost in thought over your individual predicaments.

Perhaps…he could distract you from your date, maybe even ensure you miss it anyway, and perhaps see him in a less…platonic way at the same time. He could simply…take the place of this undeserving date of yours. 

“...You know…I had heard there was a new jazz club that had opened up recently, and I know no one else here has enough taste to appreciate the music appropriately so I wouldn't want to take any of them.” He uses his free hand to wave off the notion before you can even suggest it. 

“Perhaps I could take you with me? Perhaps I can show you how well I bet we could cut a rug together? It's been quite some time since I've gotten to enjoy a dance with a worthy partner.” He says, putting particular emphasis on the last word, eyes partially closing as he makes sure to look at you with a more seductive gaze to further entice you.

You always respond to his compliments so well, a nervous fidget, perhaps a bite of your lip as you think of how to respond, and of course that cute little blush he was quite fond of by now.

“That…” You swallow again, opening your mouth a moment as if searching for words before you continue speaking.

“That sounds…lovely. Just…let me know when to be ready.”

This time his grin is more reminiscent of a spider watching a fly heading right into its web as he gives you all the details needed of when and where.

When the time officially comes, he's delighted that you show up in the lobby at the appropriate time for a few reasons. It meant you were going to go, was the most obvious reason. But the second reason was that unless this idiot wanted to take you dancing on a Sunday night…you probably broke your date with them to be with him. A fact that certainly makes his ego puff up as he takes your hand and kisses it, a routine that feels almost natural now.

“My…I'll be the envy of everyone there with this beauty on my arm…” He chuckles, smiling wider when he sees that tell tale blush spread down to your neck as you stumble over a ‘thank you’. He offers his arm to you, which you politely take as if he were escorting you anywhere normally. Him initiating contact, even if it was small, was also beginning to feel more natural to you both, even if it was small touches.

He can tell by the way you act that you can sense this is different from other friendly outings you two had been on. Good. He was beginning to doubt his abilities to charm for a little bit there. Perish the thought.

There are also, admittedly, things that he has begun to notice are different as the night goes on as well. Had he always been able to feel how warm your hands were or had he just never noticed? It's easier to notice now as he twirls you around to the lovely jazz band playing up on stage, hand never letting yours go entirely as the two of you dance.

He's also glad to see those pesky nerves of yours finally seemed to be wearing off and you were relaxing with him again, like you had before he began attempting to quietly pursue you. Your smile and laugh were far more carefree and jovial as he dips you, arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you from falling before he tugs you back up to continue.

With you relaxing, he finds himself mirroring that demeanor and he's overall less anxious and tense, and much less focused on ensnaring you. Now he was just…having fun. No planning. No ulterior motives. Just having a good time. It's actually quite nice to enjoy the feeling in the moment.

There are a few brief moments where you tense, for instance when his face comes just a little too close to yours, and he can tell you're clearly wondering if he'll close the gap or if you're just imagining things that aren't there. Or when he gives a particularly sultry gaze and accompanying grin as he pulls his lovely dancing partner closer when the distance between you two becomes greater than he wants.

But overall it's an absolutely lovely night and once you've both had your fill you step off the dance floor, Alastor taking a moment to check the time and grinning deviously to himself. It was far too late to meet with up with whoever your date had been, and his ego is admittedly fluffed knowing he was the one able to distract you so thoroughly, as it should be.

As the two of you sit down at one of the tables in the corner, each grabbing a drink from the bar first, you're still laughing with absolute glee over the wonderful night so far.

He enjoys picking your brain as he sips his rye, head resting gently on his free hand as he nods and agrees and puts in his own two cents on this new jazz club. It feels delightfully normal and cozy. While he does quite enjoy flustering you and watching you flounder…he had missed these easygoing conversations he couldn't really seem to have with others. You had been walking on eggshells around him this week, and he didn't realize how terribly he missed this type of interaction with you until now.

It's only after awhile he pretends to check the clock and feigns shock before turning back to you.

“Oh dear! I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. I hope you didn't have any other plans I might have ruined.” His chuckle is easygoing, thinking he knows the answer but wanting to hear you say it anyway. He wants to hear you say you chose him, instead of him just silently knowing.

But you just shake your head, grin still plastered across your face before you take a sip of your cocktail.

“Nope! This was my only plan tonight and I couldn't imagine anything better!” Another delighted laugh from you as confusion crosses his own face immediately.

He cocks his head to the side a little bit, trying to determine if you're lying or not. Although he has never known you to lie to him before…

“Really? It's not nice to lie to me. I thought we were close. No prior commitments to anyone broken to be here with me tonight? No silly little paramour trying to steal away your attention?” He puts emphasis on the word, putting his drink down and using that hand to gently grab your chin and tilt your head up to look him in the eye so he could analyze your expression more acutely. He doesn't mean to say the word ‘paramour’ with such disdain, it simply creeps out into his voice.

But now you just look confused as well as you look up at him.

“No…? I mean. I told Husk about this place and mentioned wanting to go this weekend to check it out. But I didn't say I had anyone in mind to go with me. If anything I was going to ask you, knowing this is your kind of place.” You answer carefully, unsure what the correct answer is supposed to be, and he freezes, hand on your chin tightening almost imperceptibly as the gears begin to turn in his mind.

There's a soft flare of radio static interference that sounds from him that makes others nearby give him more room than they had previously.

You, however, are unafraid. You've become too close to him to really fear he would do anything bad to you. Right now you're mostly just concerned for him and this odd behavior.

His hand drops away from your face, as he takes another sip of his rye, taking that time to collect himself and think of his next course of action.

He should have known better than to trust one singular source of information without double checking…damnit. He had been so wrapped up in his stupid newfound jealousy that he hadn't even stopped to ask Husk if he was absolutely positive that's what you said. He thinks the idiot must have misheard you, and he foolishly accepted it at face value.

But the wheels are turning in your head now too, mouth falling slightly agape as your eyes widen, an outlandish possibility entering your mind that claws at your curiosity so desperately you can't stop yourself from blurting it out.

“...Alastor…Were you trying to stop me from going on what you thought was a date?” You ask, and the excited anticipation in your voice could not be mistaken even though you did try to hide it.

“Of course not.” Is what comes out of his mouth immediately as he pulls away defensively, his ears flattening slightly, two things you pick up on. He's unaware how hard your heart is beating right now as you try to summon the courage to speak your next thought, part of you still thinking it so impossible you shouldn't even bother asking.

“...Are you…jealous over the idea of someone dating me?” You inquire curiously, quirking your head to the side and snaking one hand across the table and taking his hesitantly, unsure if you're crossing some invisible line. You're unsure if you're just firing a shot in the dark and he'll laugh at the notion. But somehow the atmosphere feels far too heavy for him to joke about something like this. It's felt heavy like this all week and you wanted to know why.

But the question just has him put his drink down a little more harshly than he meant to. But he doesn't pull his other hand from yours, the touch a little soothing to him as he deals with his scattered thoughts.

“No.” He says concretely while looking you in the eye, as if daring you to suggest otherwise.

But you still aren't convinced…not with how he had been acting this past week, and this new knowledge. Perhaps…you could try and be a little bold? Perhaps test the waters yourself?

“...That's a shame. I wouldn't have minded if you were.” You state quietly, his ears almost straining to pick up the sound of your voice over the music. Your gaze is pointedly looking away,  unsure you would have had the courage to say the words if you had been looking directly at him.

You startle and look back at him, specifically at his hand holding yours because his grip has become noticeably tighter. He's moving closer again, to the shorter distance he had been before he pulled away and you swallow thickly, wondering if you had made a mistake.

His voice is low, and you can oddly see conflict present in his eyes, as if he was warring over what decision to make.

“...and if I say I am?” His voice is heated and almost husky as he speaks, looking you directly in the eye again as he leans even closer now, his face mere inches from yours now.

You're struck speechless by this admission, not even dreaming of that response actually being a reality, and your voice is stuck in your throat as you scramble for a response. Your breath hitches slightly as all you can do is stare at him a moment trying to process this as he waits for your answer, unreadable in this moment.

Your other hand is shaking as you bring it up to rest on his cheek, watching him close his eyes a moment before opening them again as he leans into the touch. It gives you the courage to speak that thought that feels almost too silly to put out into the world.

“...I…I would say you have no reason to be.” You're leaning just the smallest bit forward, as if to silently give permission but not wanting to take that first step yourself and cross his boundaries without permission. 

It just made him adore you more.

He bridges the distance, eyes closing as the hand not holding yours is placed on the back of your neck to push you closer, to silently assure you this was no accident.

He can feel your hand gripping his tightly now in response and he can't help but grin into the kiss as you begin to reciprocate once the shock has worn off, lips moving against his with an eager hunger before eventually parting. There's something almost tender in the way he grips your neck, that makes you melt into the kiss with him with ease.

He has to admit he's definitely a fan of this look of yours. Wide eyed, breathing a bit hard with a flushed face and slightly parted mouth as you gazed at him. He wants to see it again.

“...Good. I'm not the type of person who does well with jealousy I've discovered.” His voice is chipper and normal, as if he hadn't just taken your breath away for a moment. Just the whiplash of going from one side of him to the other has you laughing as you lean back, the hand that was once on his face now covering your own.

“...I'll keep that in mind.” You grin, spreading your fingers just enough to peek out at him. 

Further discussions could wait until tomorrow of course, of boundaries and labels and everything that comes with it. But for now this is enough. His cards are on the table yes, but yours are laid bare for him to see as well. So he relaxes again into his seat, leaning back but not taking his hand back from yours before looking at the dance floor again.

“...Do you feel like dancing again mon cœur?” He asks, already tugging your hand up to bring you with him. He's eager to dance with you again without having to pretend his intimate and more romantic touches were accidental this time. He hears you giggle before taking another sip of your cocktail and then you're tugging him down to be eye level with you. 

“I'd love that, mon amour.” You teasingly breathe into his ear, and you're rewarded by this time getting to see his breath hitch instead of it always being you. You may still not know what he's been calling you, but everyone knows that term of endearment, and there's an almost sinful sense of pride that you were able to pull that type of reaction from him, and now you're even more eager to dance with him again, to find out what else you can see that no one else has before.

You think you understand all the teasing touches he gave you that left you wanting all this week, probably trying to test the waters and bait you into confessing yourself, you can likely guess now. If this is how he felt seeing you react all those times you couldn't blame him.

Perhaps it's only fair to begin to repay him for those tormenting whispers and touches, you think as you two step onto the dance floor, your hand placing itself on his chest before slowly gliding up further and then over his collarbone to rest gingerly on his shoulder for support, your fingers digging in slightly to the flesh of his back. It's hard to tell in this dimly lit lounge but you swear there's a tinge of red to his face, and it just further strengthens the hunger you feel when he growls softly and leans over to whisper to you.

“Tread carefully my dear. I have every intention of approaching this courtship as a gentleman. Do not make that impossible for me to remember…”

Taglist: @zzzykiek @alastorthirsty @sirens-and-moonflowers

[controld3vil]

two psychopaths

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader (can be read as ambiguous/platonic/romantic, WHATEVER YOU GUYS PREFER)

synopsis: requested by this ask and this!

alt: regardless of you two playing psychopaths, in reality, you were the sweetest human beings ever.

notes: i applaud austin butler for his performance omg!! dually noted that the reader has hair that is long enough to be put into a ponytail (they are showing off a cute hair tie they got). NO BETE READ i apologize !!

You should have expected something. If not for your past antics, there would be no reason for them to be here. It was touching really, playing against your own tactics.

Without delay, in the morning, you were going to buy breakfast. When you decided and reluctantly remembered your cast members were going to have an interview around the same area. The building was close by, a block from the café shop. And so you rushed across the street, with a butter croissant in one hand, and a hot drink in another.

"Boo!" As you had snuck behind, grabbing both of their shoulders together in a tight squeeze. You could feel Timothee Chalamet's body jump while Austin Butler feeling startled, and involuntarily jerked back to swat your hand.

"Hey!"

"Oh my gosh, you scared me!"

"That was the point!" Your snickering was quickly joined by the film crew behind the scenes. It was all caught on camera and gave a great spook for everyone on set. You could still feel your heartbeat pumping as you tightened your grip on both of their shoulders.

"They really got you two!" The host of Comicbook.com and interviewer Brandon Davis exclaimed, covering his mouth with his fist. You were glad he and the rest of the crew obligated you to sneak in, a few minutes before their interview. Your eyes followed behind the movie poster to the corner, where you had laid your breakfast. Making sure nothing slipped or stomped on.

"Now we're really gonna get you next time!" Timothee's voice brought your attention back to him. Your grip never leaves his side, as he holds onto it as if threatening you.

"I'd like to see you two try," Nodding as you sneered. To add more to the competition, you gave a shaky handshake without breaking eye contact.

On the other hand, Austin could only lean back in his chair with an amused grin. "I thought you also had an interview today?" Tapping your hand on his shoulder, casually not minding your invasion of his personal space.

Your attention shifts, and you smile sweetly. "Mine is after lunch so I still got time." Lowering your tone, playfully mimicking Austin's voice. "I'll see you guys later though, enjoy your interview!"

As you release your grip to pat their heads, Timothee swerves to wave goodbye. Almost hitting himself in the face with your hand. "Alright- whoa see ya!". In an instant, Austin gives you a look before patting his seatmate on the back.

You grabbed your belongings, then thanked everyone walking out. Brandon Davis looked even more ecstatic now, knowing the actor's moods were lifted, looking a lot happier and pumped.

"Well what a great start to our interview huh?"

"Hm?"

"Oh yeah, the best!"

In turn, a couple hours after, you and Josh Brolin had been seated for the start of your interview. It was arranged by Maude Garrett, with whom you had talks with Jessica Ferguson before. Meeting her again was a pleasant encounter. You had a fantastic time with her last time and believed it would be no different with Brolin by your side.

"Hey!" She squeals out your name, hands in the air. "I'm so happy to see you again!"

"I came back just for you," Clutching her hand, you wave it back and forth. You were gleaming with joy as you seated yourself next to Brolin, who gave you a confused smile.

"You two know each other?"

"Oh no no-"

"I did an interview with her and Jessica," you clarified before glancing at Maude, "She's really nice!"

"So that's why you wanted to come along?" Josh exasperates a sarcastic groan. "Do you not want to do interviews with me?"

The humorous banter does not diminish throughout the interview. No, having worked with Josh Brolin through Dune, you were always attentive to his words. You can tell how passionate he is to be a part of Dune. The way he's communicated with Villeneuve and the producers, made you appreciate him more. Even before the interview had started, Brolin had brought up a book he had been working on with Greig Frazer of the photography of Dune.

You knew it was a fun project for him and he even gifted you one of the first few copies before release.

"Do you think Duncan Idaho is going to be a big part of Part 3?" Brolin and Garrett were having a conversation about potential possibilities for the Dune universe. As it was a well-known fact for book readers, more complex characters and plotlines divert after the first novel.

While you sat patiently, only ever observant of of their interaction. "I mean, I love-"

Suddenly there were screams. Boom! Your eyes lit up as if a sudden alarm had gone off. It was then two bodies came crashing towards you to notice what was happening. The two young male actors hurdled over you and Josh Brolin in a frenzy, surrounding you all in a big bear hug. You could decipher your mentor's frightful yet affectionate grin.

"Oh my gosh!" You almost shrieked, hand instinctively placing over your heart in reassurance. Timothee stood by Brolin's side, shaking him side by side. While Austin held onto yours, having the time of his life at your expression. You could tell already that cameras were caught yours and Brolin's slow-mo reaction.

"What's going on?!"

Mumbles of excitement were scattered on the scene. You could not stop smiling, as you placed your hand on top of Austin's, looking at him in pure defeat and fondness. As if saying, you got me.

"Thank you, god!" Josh happily cries out, bowing his head pure of joy.

Eventually, the Elvis actor lets go and formally greets the interviewer, shaking her hand. "Hi, I'm Maude! Nice to meet you!"

"Is this the interviewer you were talking to me about?" Austin looks at you, questionably. "The one asking about the popcorn bucket?"

You nod, enthusiastically. "She is! Maude, I was raving about you!"

"Awh!" The blonde female places a hand over her heart, warmly. She pouts lovingly at your comment. "How sweet of you!"

On the other side, Timothee grins back at Brolin before saying his hellos to you. "Hey, how are you?"

"I literally saw you hours ago!" You pointed your index finger directly at him, scoldingly. However, in return, the French actor laughs, and before hearing Austin turning to Brolin.

"We got the books."

"We got them and you got to sign it." Timothee states, placing both his hands on Brolin.

"Ok!" Suddenly the shot pans to you, having your mouth wide open.

"We'll bring em'- Give me a little- give me a little personal message-"

"I love you guys!" The older actor bellows, opening his arms for all of you three to join in one last hug. Seconds after, Brolin pats his French costar adorably on the back as a farewell. "I love you! Get outta here!"

The camera pans to Timothee moving towards your seat. As you discreetly mumble, making puppy dog eyes. "I get to sign too, right?!" He only chuckles before softly punching your shoulder as a gesture of approval.

"We got you good this time!" The French costar makes finger guns, playfully shooting at you in victory. You couldn't help but blow a raspberry in denial.

"I didn't know you guys were gonna do it today!"

"That was the whole point!" Austin chastely pats the back of your seat, gliding his hand to connect with yours to shake.

Sometime after your encounter, you and Austin managed to meet again in Los Angeles. It was when the Associated Press wanted to have you two for an interview with their AP film writer, Lindsey Bahr, to speak on topics that would pertain to both of your characters. You, coming back from the first film, with a new profound experience. Upon his introduction, Austin's character, Feyd-Rautha, is portrayed as a calculating and highly skilled warrior in Harkonnen's fashionable way.

You couldn't wait, as you sped into the boardroom where the interview was taking place. Lindsey Bahr beside the camera, was casually chatting with Austin as the rest of the crew prepared for the shoot.

The two of you gave each other a quick hug before taking your seats to get comfortable.

"Oh look what I got from New York!" Your head spins clockwise to show the back of your head, only to confuse Austin and the rest of the crew profoundly. This was a small snippet the Associated Press wanted to keep in the interview. They believed it was a great preview promoter to display your and Austin's relationship with each other.

"What is it? What are you showing us?" The blonde-brunette male puts forward, as the camera zooms in on him inspecting you dumbfounded. It pans to you grabbing your hair tie before turning back to face the audience.

Your hair once slicked by its restraint is now free and lies on your shoulders. It doesn't fall evenly on you though, but almost awkwardly due to the gel in your locks.

"Look at this!" You show it to the camera with a hand holding the item. And another, palm up to allow better focus. It was a character plush hair tie. One of a loveable cookie with one eyebrow raised. It even had one big tooth sticking out. "Isn't it cute?"

"It's adorable!" Linsey says with a smile. Your grin was contagious as she admired your high enthusiasm for the small accessory. "Where did you find it in New York?"

"In a BTS store," you pierced your lips together, thumbs smoothing over the face of the plushie. "I was looking for a gift for my cousin. And then I saw a bunch of displays of these!"

"I like his little expression," Austin perks up, arms relaxing on the armrest. Though his posture was leaning to look at the cute ornament in your hands. "He looks questionable intrigued."

"He is," You agree, locking eyes with him. "He kind of looks like me, yeah?"

Your costar charmingly laughs, as you lift the cookie next to your face. You did your best to mimic its expression, trying not to break. "He kind of does actually," Before leaning to push away some strands of your hair behind your shoulder.

And the interview commenced smoothly. It did not feel one-sided or exclusive from one person. You and Austin were able to enjoy yourselves, talking and reliving the moments you had onscreen. You barely had any scenes together, in fact, both of your characters were across planets from each other by the time the climax of the film began. Though it had mostly focused on Paul's and Feyd's rivalry for the throne even then. Little was known about your characters together despite having fair similarities in combat, and personality.

Then there was a question that came up from Bahr, asking if you all, specifically the younger casts spent time together after filming or stayed in your hotel rooms.

Austin decided to step in and respond. "I mean we had some dinners- when we got hungry."

"I'd say both. I mean it was rare for the five of us to be together because of our production schedules." You say, scratching your arm upwards. Out of your peripherals, you could see Austin nod in correspondence. "Otherwise, most people were really beaten up. I mean- I think me, Florence, Timothee, Zendaya, and Austin are the tamest bunch you know? Dinner was the latest school night we had."

"Right, we'd be so tired," Your male costar snickers, covering his smile with his hand.

Then it was like a light bulb flashes above your head when your eyes flash in revelation. "We did like to go shopping a lot together."

"Really? How was that like?"

"A lot of hours, that's for sure." Austin crosses his arms, exhaling a long groan. Only for you to have a guilty pout, shyly backing up in your chair. Even you did not deny his claims. "I mean- with them, all of the bags get piled onto me."

"I try to spend less every time I go shopping with him," You wave your arms defensively. With an amused smile, the Elvis actor could only want to listen to more, back fully leaning on his chair. "Though me and Zendaya love to go shopping all the time."

"It must've been a hectic shopping spree!"

"The most hectic," Your costar spouts a satirical groan as you dismissively smile and shake your head.

And most of all, you were fortunate enough to be invited to Graham Norton's show alongside Josh Brolin and Austin Butler. Coincidently other stars such as Olivia Coleman and Jodie Foster were present which made you more instantly excited. It was a row stacked with amazing actors and actresses. Even you, who have been considered in a few films were more than ecstatic to meet every one of them.

It took some time into the interview when Norton brought up Dune. As he went down the line of people, Austin was the last person on the couch yet to be asked a question. You were sitting beside Josh and Jodie Foster, whom you eagerly met backstage only minutes prior when you all went onstage. It was all nerve-wracking from the start. However, the longer you sat and talked, the more comfortable you became with the people you so charismatically looked up upon.

"Now Austin," Graham raises his hand as he directs everyone's attention to the TV screen, "Now what the fuck happened to you?" Then a still image of him in all costume as Feyd Rautha appears. Leading the audience to laugh and even a few chuckles from the couch. Graham's straightforwardness too caught you offhand as you cough not so subtly in the background.

Waves of ohs and awes rippled from person to person.

"Did you- did you know- yes that's Austin!"

"By the way- that's how I met him the first time because everyone said if you met Austin- Oh you're gonna love Austin," Brolin starts, one arm leaning against the back of the couch. "And then finally, I knocked on his trailer door- and I opened the door to this pasty bald emaciated thing." More laughter erupts as you sweetly grin at the faint memory of their meeting.

"But you didn't shave your head?"

"I was- I was going straight to another film and uh- called The Bike Riders with Tom Hardy and Jeff Nickels who was directing," Austin explains the director specifically asked him not to shave his head. As it would be difficult to grow back quickly and transition from Dune. "So the wonderful hair and makeup team did that to me." As he points back to the picture of him and Lea Seydoux.

"Wow!"

"That's a bald wig!"

"Yeah isn't it incredible?" The Elvis actor gleams back at Olivia and then to you. You give him a wider grin, cocking your head sideways until the attention is drawn back to Graham.

"And also, it's not just- it doesn't- where does it start?"

"It attaches where my eyelids are," He points and the rest of the actresses could only stare in astonishment.

"Whoa, you didn't have to shave your eyebrows either."

"That's- wow!"

"But it's incredibly meticulous if they're a millimeter off, you can't open one eye and uhm- so yeah they were incredible." He explains, pointing closely to his eyelids to make a better visualization of how detailed his look was for the crew. Truly it was an astonishing character design, and to have Austin fill in those shoes was a great casting choice. You couldn't think of anyone else to play Feyd.

"Was it like an hour?" Jodie brings up, having one hand on her chin innocently.

"It was three hours." Disappointed grunts and groans came from the two women beside you. It was as if the moment he mentioned how long it took, all the enthusiasm to try bald wigs was out of the table. It was hilarious, both Olivia and Foster looking back and avoiding eye contact with anyone. Seated next to them, you followed along, shaking your head so slightly, staring at them as if saying, really?!

"Shave my head!" Graham shouts and yelps agreeing to his holler followed the room. Seconds after the noise disperse, the host turns his eyes on you. He brings your attention, saying your name in confidence. "And uh- here's the thing, you had the complete opposite! People have said that you had to grow out your hair- either or have extensions to have longer hair."

"Absolutely the complete opposite for me," You cheerily perk up, saluting your drink to Norton. The audience snickers, followed by Brolin bursting out in a howl. "But- yes I would say I had to grow out my hair for this film. To the point where I had many intricate braids in my hair."

"It must've been so nice," Josh chides, almost too enthusiastically. He crosses his arms and you give him a look of caution, playfully so.

"Yeah luckily you didn't have to deal with all of my mess," Austin motions to his hair, and immediately you let out a whistle. Again the back of the crowd responds well to your banter. Everything went so smoothly whenever you were with your cast mates. You were the most comfortable with them.

"Very very true!" Norton points his flashcards to you, "Would you have shaved your head if you- two had switched roles?"

"Honestly why not," Shrugging, you could hear some murmurs of surprise and intrigue. "I feel like I would be very comfortable with the bald wig too. But I mean if I cut all of my hair, I wouldn't have to grow them out anymore."

There was a semblance of mutuality while some still expressed their preferences (Olivia and Jane). Though what was most prominent to you was Broliin balling his eyes out. While Austin looks at you in pure confusion and stupefaction.

"All that to not grow out your hair?!" Josh exclaims, and the shot perfectly catches him clenching his chest from how much he was cackling at your odd comment.

"I mean that's one way to do it," Austin had a much slower reaction as it seemed at that moment made you break. Only to have you glance down at your shoes because of how much you wanted to laugh uncontrollably.

"I think it'd be cool no?" You try to say, slowly breaking into laughter. The rest of the crowd cooed at how you were with your costars. You always manage to include them in every conversation, showing how much care you had with everyone you had worked with. "I feel like the material of the bald wig would be super cool to touch."

"It's- it's a latex-"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Graham hushes, one hand shielding his mouth even though everyone can hear what he is saying. A huge wave of roars and screams echoed. And all you could do was cover your face and hide behind Brolin.

Yet the most unforgettable moment that would define your relationship with Austin is not even with the two of you present. In fact, it was in an interview with him,with Timothee and Zendaya. During that time, you were paired with someone else. But it was a small mention of Austin's first days of filming for Dune that kept viewers occupied.

"When you- fitting in with you know, coming into this group," It takes a few glances for Austin to look at his costars. "What did that feel like to you?"

Austin locks eyes with Zendaya then Timothee, "You both were so kind and welcoming and- uhm-"

"And we bullied him for the first week," The mixed actress casually mentions, as it can be heard off camera, sounds of agreement. "No, I'm kidding!"

"We had to break him in," The French actor nods, playing along to their scheme.

"Yeah, exactly exactly," The brunette actor goes even further with it, "Hazing rituals."

Zendaya raises her finger. She refers to you with such warmth. "It was more than hazing rituals. I mean- actually, they were doing crazy dance moves and-"

"They're just full of sunshine," Austin beans ear to ear, eyes only evident of fondness. "Super warm and welcoming."

Timothee cocks his head slightly to the side. "Welcome to Arrakis!"

[genericpuff]

no stop this article is too funny

this is from 2020 and while it talks about webtoons in general as a platform and medium, there's an excerpt from Rachel that's ironically and hilariously telling on herself when it comes to her priorities as a creator and how her work has aged incredibly poorly in the past 4 years:

She may as well just be saying, "I like Webtoon because they don't have any quality control" and "the trad publishing market had standards that I couldn't live up to, so instead of actually trying to live up to them, I went with a platform that has zero standards and was willing to make me into the standard regardless of my own qualifications and lack thereof."

Like y'all, take this as advice from someone who's had their fair share of rejection letters... the print industry dumping your unsolicited portfolio in the bin isn't gatekeeping, it's the nature of the business. The way Rachel describes it here - albeit I'm sure it's simplified for the sake of being an interview answer, but still - makes it sound like she was just expecting to walk right into the trad publishing market without an agent, without a completed manuscript or pitch, without any professional representation, and just slam her portfolio of mid-2000's art on the desk expecting them to hire her on the spot.

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of barriers that prevent people from getting into the trad market, hurdles that can often be outright unfair (lacking the funds, lacking the connections, etc.) but... there's also a reason many of those barriers are there in practice.

First of all, fun fact: the reason why many publishers don't take unsolicited manuscripts isn't just to help them filter out the spam and low-effort submissions and prevent an overload of submissions (because if they took submissions from anyone and everyone, the overviewing system would break entirely), but it's also for legal purposes so that they don't get sued. Because if Joe Chucklefuck sends in an unsolicited manuscript that just so happens to include a plot point about the multiverse, and then a new book series or movie comes out that is about the multiverse, Joe Chucklefuck might get the sense they're being stolen from and attempt to sue them for plagiarism. This is why it's stressed so much by publishers that any unsolicited manuscripts will not just go unread, but will be thrown straight into the bin.

But second, many publishers simply don't want to take the financial risks on random start-up creators whose only experience is running their own personal projects on Tumblr, much less personal projects like Rachel's, half of which are fetish-content and all of which are unfinished. Of course they weren't gonna take Rachel seriously back then, she hadn't done anything to build up her presence in the industry.

In that sense, yes, self-publishing or pursuing a platform gig like Webtoons probably was Rachel's next best option which would be perfectly acceptable on its own, but it's just so, so telling that she thinks it's a "perk" for Webtoons to lack so much in the way of quality control, and we would ironically see the glaring evidence of that "perk" 3-4 years later in LO's final season when every single element of it as a "professional" piece of work turned to shit. It's no wonder she liked Webtoons in 2020 for letting her do anything she wanted, because what she wanted absolutely would not fly with an actual editor and publishing agency that cared about putting out a polished piece of work. The only way she was able to get "in" with a professional publisher was through Del Rey after Webtoons brokered a deal for her to have LO put into print, and even that level of prestige can't hide the fact that LO sucks ass in print. It's almost like under normal circumstances and without Webtoons carrying her on their shoulders above every other creator on the platform - many of whom actually do have experience in both tradpub and self-publishing - Del Rey wouldn't have paid her any attention. Without Webtoons, no one would take her seriously because she doesn't take what she does seriously, and it shows in her priorities as a creator who simply wants to just do whatever she wants without any sort of reasonable oversight like research or editing which are, again, necessary expectations within the tradpub industry, because it's not just about being a free-thinking self-expressive artist anymore in that industry - it's a business.

Of course, Rachel is probably now laughing from her soapbox over the fact that she now technically helps run an imprint, so haha "poo on the meanie trad market", but considering that imprint has still not launched and has been put on the same "coming soon" track that the LO television show has been on for the past 4+ years on a loop, I'm not holding my breath that it's actually going to amount to anything substantial.

(gotta love how they asked if Rachel was gonna create any more stories and her answer was RSP, which will help other creators bring their stories to life. so at best she didn't answer the question which is nothing new for her, at worst she gave away the fact that she's gonna be acting as some kind of producer who will be given all the credit and praise for other creator's works and efforts lmao no thankssss)

And god knows what the quality control of this imprint is gonna be like if Rachel's attitude toward the trad market overall is, "Nooo they won't let me do what I wantttt :((((" when she admittedly never even broke into the trad market to begin with and had zero experience working within that industry prior to LO.

And even then, Webtoons still doesn't give her as much freedom of choice as she claims to have. I mean ffs, this is the same person whose moderators stated that the Swarovski crystal dress from the finale was done as a "fuck you" to Webtoons for not letting her draw Persephone nude all the time.

She's obviously still being prevented from doing what she wants to do, when a lot of what she wants to do is better off not passing the vibe check and making it into the comic.

Quality control exists for a reason, Rachel. And "letting you do what you want" isn't necessarily a "flex" that Webtoons can claim over trad publishing when that "flex" is forgoing the traditional barriers that would usually prevent someone like you from failing upwards into manufactured fame the way that you have.

And that's my big bag of cents on that.

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

I Still Love You.

Okay, hi, yes, I am real, I do exist haha, anyway, I'm suffering in college but I miss writing for my cowboy so I'm gonna try to do some magic with this prompt from the lovely @photo1030 about our cowboy and us getting into a fight, the first fight, after they start dating.

SO

Let us start!

Warnings: Arguing obviously, swearing, Arthur feeling bad, you feeling bad, female reader, possibly 18+ themes. Modern Arthur AU

Definitely maybe projecting a little bit of myself into Y/N here but we aren't gonna mention that.

Also don't you dare make fun of me I haven't wrote much recently so my noggin doesn't work, all I know is homework

You scoffed, continuing to wash the dishes in your sink as you listen to Arthur rambling on, trying to make you 'see reason' as he put it.

Usually you couldn't find a single thing wrong with Arthur. For the most part he was the perfect man. Of course, he had his flaws, as all humans do, but you guys had NEVER had a fight before, but lately...you couldn't help but fume at him.

He was just....You loved him, and you loved being around him and typically nothing about him bothered you but....

You couldn't help it.

He was just so damn...Stubborn! All the time!

No matter what, he always had to be right. Doesn't matter exactly what it's about, but he has to be right, even if it's something that YOU know more about.

"Jus' listen to me Darlin', it'll be so much easier for us to do this if we jus'-"

"I told you Arthur, that's not it, that's not gonna work!"

You sigh and turn around, leaning on the lip of the sink, your arms crossed as you look at him.

"You know, JUST as much as I do, that if we want to move in together at some point that we should invest in a place for BOTH of us, not just me moving in with you or you moving in with me."

"It'll save us money if you jus' move in with me-"

"And it'll save our relationship if I don't feel like I'm a visitor in a place that I didn't purchase. That's YOUR apartment, with YOUR decorations, YOUR pots and pans, YOUR shower curtains, EVERYTHING is yours, and even if I brought some of my stuff in, it's not MY place or OUR place-"

"So now our relationship needs savin'?"

He snorts and copies your body language, crossing his own arms as he stares down at you.

"You livin' with me, regardless as to if it's at your house or my apartment is the same as us buyin' a place together, and our relationship is just fine, it don't NEED savin'. At least I didn't think it did until ya said that."

"Oh my god, you are such a stubborn jackass."

You grind your teeth, standing up straight.

"It doesn't need saving, not YET. Arthur, a place of our own, together, would be better for the both of us, and you KNOW that."

"We would save much more money if we just moved in to one of the places we ALREADY own-"

"That wouldn't be OURS-"

"We would MAKE it OURS darlin'-"

"Arthur, why can't you understand-"

"Why can't YOU understand, I'm tryin' to save us money in the long run, money we can use to save up and buy a house later down the line, when we need one."

"Jesus, Arthur! How am I supposed to even move in with you in the first place when all you can do is try to prove you're right about everything all the damn time!"

You throw your hands up in defeat.

"You just have to always, always, always be right, don't you? You can't just understand or accept that someone else MIGHT be right!"

"You know damn well that ain't true!"

Arthur stands straight himself, putting his hands on his hips.

"I ain't tryin' to prove shit!,"

He pokes you in the chest, right under your collarbone

"I'm TRYIN' to make things easier on us! I'm tryin' to do somethin' good for the woman I love, but clearly you ain't very appreciative about it!"

"I would be, if you didn't always have to be so damn pushy, always 'oh well actually we should do this its smarter' shut UP Arthur, shut UP. It's not always your way or the highway!"

You smack his hand away, scowling at him as he shakes his hand and puts it back on his hip.

"You know how awful, how fucking stupid you make me feel, all the time!? Even when I'm RIGHT, you make me feel stupid because there's always some other way that we can do things that you always deem 'better'. What is it? You just don't like the fact that I can do things? That SOMETIMES, I have good ideas?"

"What? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"You know what I'm talking about-"

"I don't!"

He groans in frustration and moves to your fridge, opening it to get a beer out.

"Oh, and you're gonna help yourself to my drinks too, right? That I paid for?"

"This ain't even yours! I bought these, I brought 'em over for me when I visit! You don't even like this brand, hell you drink them fuckin' fruity drinks, the what....the Smirnoff or whatever the fuck it is."

He pops the bottle cap off.

"'Sides, what's the matter? You ain't never been upset about sharin' with me before."

"It's not the point!"

You groan and move past him into the living room.

"The point is Arthur, you always have to be right. Always. You make me feel like an idiot. Even if I know something more than you. Hell you'd tell me I was wrong if I was talking about what I majored in, in college."

"Oh I would not-"

He states, following you into the living room.

"You just did it again! Just there!"

"I ain't doin' shit!"

"AND AGAIN!"

Arthur gives a huff and puts his drink down on the coffee table, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand.

"Look, Darlin', all I'm sayin' is, if we make a budget and live together at my place, or at yours, we can save up money, and EVENTUALLY get a place together. a NICE place. A GOOD place, that's big enough for us, and what I HOPE is eventually our family."

"Why can't we buy a place that's already a good place?"

"You have to have MONEY Y/N!"

Arthur closes his eyes briefly, and crosses his arms again.

"Christ, Y/N do you ever fucking listen?"

"Oh like you're any better-"

"I am!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

The two of you stare at one another, fuming, both of you clenching your jaws.

"Get out."

You murmur softly.

"Get out and go home."

"Really? You're gonna kick me out?"

"Yes, go!"

Arthur stares at you for a moment, and then moves around the couch and takes a seat, kicking his feet up on the coffee table after grabbing his beer.

"No. Not until we talk this through. I ain't lettin' either one of us walk away angry."

You angrily groan and turn away from him, going to your bedroom. You slam the door shut behind you and lock it.

You take the time to breathe, putting your hands through your hair, trying to keep yourself from being too angry.

You move to your bed and take a seat, letting yourself think.

Granted, yes, neither of you had been extremely awful to one another, but you had said some pretty mean things, and after sitting there for about twenty minutes you started to spiral.

That was a dick move of you. A dick move of him too but...what if....

You shouldn't have said anything like that to him, calling him a stubborn jackass, telling him to fuck off, you shouldn't have said those things.

You think it over more and more, and the longer you think about it, the guiltier you feel.

Accusing him of taking your food, when you always share your stuff with him anyway, intentionally starting a fight basically.

Its another ten minutes of thinking about how you'd yelled at him, and then you can't take it.

You unlock your door and come out to find Arthur still on the couch, his arms crossed as he looks up at you.

"You done throwin' a temper tantrum, Y/N?"

You go to speak and surprisingly you find yourself choked up.

"I'm...I...I'm sorry, Arthur I..."

You can feel yourself beginning to tear up and you try to wipe your eyes without it being too obvious, but Arthur was able to see it clearly.

"Woah, hey-"

He's quick to get up and move to you, taking your face in his hands.

"Whatchu cryin' for Darlin'? It ain't that big a deal, it's jus' a spat, that's all..."

He keeps his voice hushed, doing his best to try and soothe you.

You just can't help but feel...absurdly guilty, and all the sudden, worried.

"You aren't gonna run away from me, are you?"

You question, looking up at him.

"You aren't gonna leave me?"

"What? What on earth, no!"

He pulls you closer, bringing your head to his chest, wrapping an arm around your head.

"Jesus, Sweetheart no, I'm not leavin' you, it ain't that big a deal, it ain't that bad...it was just a little spat, an argument, couples have 'em all the time...."

He murmurs, and quietly kisses the top of your head.

"I shouldn't have called you a jackass, and I shouldn't have told you to fuck off, and I'm sorry-"

You ramble on, hugging yourself tightly to him.

"I'm really happy you want me to move in with you, I want to move in with you, I love you, I don't mean anything, I don't want you to back out of it, I don't wanna push you away-"

"Darlin', Y/N, please, calm down, okay, sit with me."

He gently guides you to the couch and sits with you, still holding you close to him.

"Sweetheart, I'm not breaking up with you, you haven't pushed me away, and you certainly aren't gonna cause me to back out."

He chuckles quietly and kisses your head again.

"It's just a little argument. That's all it is, that's it. It's nothin' to break us up over. Couples have fights all the time, it's alright."

"I know..."

You breathe out quietly, his voice was certainly soothing you.

Pulling away from him, you look up at him.

"I am sorry though, I am. I shouldn't have said those things....We should talk, seriously talk, take a minute, and CALMLY talk about the whole housing thing we want to do, I don't wanna argue about it anymore..."

"Sweetheart, it's okay, really it is."

He smiles and takes your hand.

"We can sit and talk, that's okay, but you don't have to apologize, I do. Alright? You're right, I tend to try and prove I'm right, and that ain't fair....So we'll talk, okay?"

He smiles at you, and he brushes some of your hair away from your face, looking you in the eyes as he does. That little smile of his is always enough to make your heart melt, and in this case it does plenty to soothe those worries that had so easily snuck up on you.

"Honey, it's alright...really, I mean that."

You nod and breathe quietly.

"I am still sorry Arthur."

"So am I, but I promise...nothing bad is gonna happen between us, okay, nothing."

He smiles.

"Well, good things will." He adds, and chuckles quietly. "We'll sit down and talk, and for tonight-"

He moves, and puts his finger under your chin, making you look up at him.

"I'm gonna take care of you, alright? I'm gonna make sure, you have a good time tonight, we'll have a movie night, and I will make dinner, you're favorite even."

You can't help but chuckle and lean in, kissing him softly.

"Thank you, thank you Arthur, I love you so much and I'm so...so sorry again."

"Stop sayin' sorry, okay? We're both idiots."

That makes you chuckle, and you lean your head against his shoulder, scooting closer.

It was a good feeling, knowing that if you had further arguments, which, you would, as couples do, you could work things out....that he wasn't going to abandon you.

He's a good man, and you...are good too.

[medicinemane]

Just try to understand, in spite of everything I've done with the trailer, with the house, with keeping myself together, no one ever really treats me like they trust me

Family is constantly second guessing me, and then on here you get people who they mean well, but like do you really think that I'm just too thick to have figured out therapy might benefit me?

The sad thing is how good my mental health is, I'm sure you'll say I'm wrong because I just got through saying how nothing is very pleasurable and I wish I'd hurry up and kill myself but I'm just not in the mood

Consider this though, you all lost your shit during quarantine, and I'm not saying you shouldn't have but I'm saying I didn't even notice it

Cause every day of my life for my whole life has been lived more or less like I was in quarantine barring a few outlier times like when I was in Quebec (where I was still very isolated for those couple months). I just live with what I guess bothers the shit out of everyone else

So I'm not saying I'm healthy or something, I'm saying for where I am and what I deal with I'm pretty fucking stable

I'm saying what do I do? What am I always doing? No matter how shit I'm feeling I'm slowly working towards moving forward in some small ways. Takes me forever, but I can tell you the next steps in the plan. Get the last phase one room cleaned out, get the commission sent. Those are the two current accessible steps. Having trouble executing on that, but I know what the next steps are and it was some time ago, but I cleaned up the whole rest of the house, didn't I?

Is it too much to ask to just fucking trust me?

When I, how sincerely hates myself at this point because my mental heath has gotten worse over the years, when I'm saying that following my plans work. When I'm saying yeah it's not ideal and there's bleeding I just can't stop, but unless I can get help this is kind of best case scenario... when my worst critic (well... one of my worst, there's always family) is saying things are going as well as can be expected... can you not just trust me for one second?

I wouldn't be so bothered if this wasn't far from the first time I've has someone say this to me even after I've explained why I literally just can't or maybe just won't get professional help right now, but it's not coming without a change

Not to mention I'm gonna blow your mind, but there's more than just professional help, there's also peer help

I don't know, you (not most of you, general you where I'm not naming names but if you haven't said it you're excused) you keep saying this and I get tired of it

Some of this has come from people I really really like, some times it comes from more or less strangers, or in between there, you know... but some of it comes from people I don't want to get mad at but like... I just don't know how to get through to you

You're making things worse. Fucking stop it. All you're doing is making me feel like you don't fucking listen, and that just makes me feel worse

Trust me and leave it, don't feel up to dealing with my depressed ass and take care of yourself by not looking at my posts, or offer me a hand or just some company or whatever

But stop with the telling me to get help. You're lucky I can probably get it covered (though, once again, not sure I can get stuff that works for me covered), cause if I'm blunt you're kind of being dicks telling people to just get help cause do you know how expensive that shit can be?

I've known people who really wanted therapy, really needed it, but just couldn't fucking afford it. Think how much it would help if I told you to just go see a dentist when you don't have dental. What's that doing for anyone?

This really bothers me, like really bothers me, look how much dumb shit I write explicitly saying it bothers me

So stop it, don't do it again

[brw]

Asking for a Re-Animator re-make without the misogyny is like. a little ridiculous to be frank. The misogyny is the point. Herbert and Dan's relationship is the way it is because they are both very misogynistic people (albeit in very different ways). Because they are, objectively speaking, two white men in the 80s in a slasher(adjacent) horror film. Of course they're misogynists.

The whole narrative surrounding Meg, the grander reason why she dies, is due to misogyny. Not a single man in that film sees Meg as a whole person. Not a single man cares truly about her, her thoughts and her feelings and her decisions. She is dismissed by Dan, she is dismissed by her father, and obviously Herbert and Hill couldn't give a fuck what she thinks or feels. She dies because never once was she anything other than an object to the men around her, never once was she afforded agency and that isn't a mistake, that is a narrative theme in the movie. She is objectified time and time again. There is more than one scene where she tells Dan no, that she doesn't like something, and he continues it anyway. When she rejects his attempts at sexual intimacy, his response is to act annoyed, or huffy. And you can say these scenes are meant to be playful... but when she is raped later on, the seeds of this idea that her consent does not matter to the men around her, regardless of her relationship with them is sown. She never asked for anything that happens to her in the film, but because what she wants isn't held in high regard by any of the men around her, it happens anyway, and that's the tragedy of Meg's character.

I'm not gonna sit here and say that the gratuitous shots of her being sexually assaulted are good, or necessary... but Re-Animator is a mid-80s gory horror flick. Part of why Re-Animator has endured so much as a film is because of its presence as a cult classic in horror comedy. And misogyny was part and parcel of that era and of those movies. I know Tumblr has latched onto Re-Animator because of the queerness of the two main leads and the strength of it's styling and cinematic sense, but to remove the misogyny from Re-Animator is to deny what Re-Animator captured, and to deny why the narrative goes the way it goes, and frankly to deny it's queerness. You can't separate Re-Animator's queerness from its misogyny. Herbert West comes across as gay because his contempt towards Meg is that extreme. Dan comes across as infatuated with Herbert because he repeatedly chooses Herbert's experiments over her. And ultimately I think it is far more useful to try and have meaningful discussions about the period-typical misogyny in the film, rather than hope for a version that has all those nasty bits removed.

[gothmikasagf]

Velvette x fem!reader

Warnings: mommy kink, dom!Velvette, top Velvette

Summary: You find yourself unable to stop staring at your friend's new boss.

Notes: spreading my lesbian Velvette agenda

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Velvette asks you. Her stare pins you in place and you don't dare move from the chair she ordered you to sit on a couple moments ago.

"Do you think I wouldn't notice your eyes on me" she whispers seductively. She grabs your chin in her hand and forcefully maneuvers it up so you don't have any choice but keep looking at her.

Her thumb swipes over your mouth and lingers on your bottom lip. You open it obediently and whatch how her mouth contorts into a smirk.

"Good girl" she says as you keep her thumb in your mouth and lightly suck on it.

"Let me see what else that mouth can do. On your knees." She demands. You lower yourself on the floor and watch her as she gets rid of her pants and underwear and sits on the bed.

The vision is downright sinful, you would have never thought that you would find yourself in this position when you entered in the club prior tonight. You just wanted to celebrate your friend's successful first job as a model for Velvette when you actually met the fashion designer herself. She was really hot, that you couldn't deny, but she was an overlord while you were a simple sinner trying to get by another day in hell without being exterminated. Still, she must have noticed your interest in her and a couple of drinks later here you were.

She spreads her legs more and you crawl towards the foot of the bed.

"Now let mommy come and I'll consider rewarding you" the moment the words are out of her mouth you bury your head between her legs.

You start tentatively giving a small lick and kisses to gauge her reaction. She locks eyes with you and pushes you in even more, locking you in with her legs.

You lick a long stripe and take her bud into your mouth, adding a finger into her entrance to help. She throws her head back and moans, her hand going into your hair and tugging it while her legs try to close in on your head.

You force her thighs open with your other hand while adding another finger. You have no idea what she was talking about when she mentioned a reward but you really wanted to make her happy nonetheless. You would have regardless, even if she didn't mention a possible reward.

Velvette starts grinding her pussy on your face and you start sucking harder and fingering faster to get a taste of her cum. Her wetness is spread all across your finger and lips but you don't find yourself caring at all. The sounds she is making are so hot you find yourself involuntarily humping the floor.

She comes with a loud moan and settles back into the bed, panting. You stay on the floor waiting for her orders, not wanting to displease her.

She looks at you curiously when she hears you pop the fingers covered in her juices in your mouth and then smirks.

"You really are mommy's good girl, aren't you?" She coos at you, standing up. "Now take off your clothes and get on bed, on all fours."

You strip as fast as you can without tripping and position yourself on the bed, ready for whatever Velvette has in store for you.

"Aww look at you, such a pretty baby. Don't worry mommy will take care of you." You hear her positioning herself behind you and feel something poking at your folds. A strap.

"Already all wet just by eating me out. I'm gonna have so much fun with you." And have fun she did, making you beg and cry for a release, only for her to overstimulate your poor cunt all night long.

[lizzy019]

hiii, i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston oneshot about how him and fem reader got into a huge fight and now he’s ignoring her no matter how much she tries to call him. then about a week later, her parents kick her out for bad grades or sum and she has no where to stay so she calls him again and he FINALLY answers!!

i hope thats not too much😭but❤️

OOOO!! I'm gonna write this as a drabble just because I have so many ideas and I don't want to lose them 🤭

~~~~~~~~ 🖤-> ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~ 💚! ~~~~~~~~~

The cars were practically buzzing at the speed they were going, and the frigid breeze of the evening had your limbs trembling. It didn't help that there was this unsettled feeling within your chest, something that nagged and clawed at you to turn back to Buck's place just to get Dally again.

But you knew it would be of no use, Dallas was stubborn and the argument that had ensued between you would have to simmer down before you two talked again. After all, Dally did have a poor habit of holding major grudges.

The sidewalks were finally being lit up by the street lights, and you found yourself looking at them as they illuminated a yellow light all through the neighbourhood. Maybe you should hurry home, the last thing you needed was a creep coming and touching your ass without consent.

Your pace increased, trekking back to your home. Once you arrived, you sighed lethargically from all the stupid feelings swirling and clouding your mind. You opened the side door of your house, sliding into it quietly before you climbed up the short staircase to see your mother angrily holding the test you wrote last week.

"What is this? Why is there a bold D on this paper? I raised you better than this!" Your mother vociferated, expression contorted into disbelief and fury.

You didn't quite know how to answer, just looking at her pathetically while you shivered from the lingering cold. Maybe this wasn't such a smart idea, coming home when you knew something would happen here too.

"I dunno, ma... I studied, swear I did." You mumbled, truly too tired to really defend yourself as you usually did. Your fingers were a bit too pink, your body just a tad too shaky.

This didn't go unnoticed by your mother, but she couldn't find it in her to show you much mercy. But regardless, she sighed and shooed you off with a swat of her hand, taking the failed paper and sitting it right near the garbage.

You trembled sheepishly, walking your way to your bedroom to change out of these thin clothes causing you such frigid temperature.

And right after you changed, you found yourself calling Dallas like the idiot you were. Trying to go back to him would definitely be your downfall, like someone had given you a shovel to dig your own grave, but you couldn't stop yourself.

The phone rang loudly in your ear, the sound echoing and it made your heart race. Maybe he would answer? This lulled you into false hope, but you kept yourself on the line until you heard the call get sent to voicemail.

You sighed, putting the phone back onto the wall while you found yourself walking to your room for some much needed sleep. At this point, your eyes were tired and your body ached. Who knows? Maybe this was all Dally needed to cool down.

• ~~~~~ 🌿 ~~~~~ •

It had been a solid week and a half since the fight with Dallas and the not so big argument with your mother about your grades.

Nothing was going well, you had called him so many times, and you were starting to lose hope. Was the argument even that bad? You knew very well that Dally could be an unforgiving guy, but wasn't this a bit extreme?

You found yourself staring at the new test paper labelled with a new blue coloured "D" and a frown crossed over your expression. But you studied! How was this grade so low? Oh, your mother was sure to smack sense into you!

Walking into your home's front door would surely be the death of you, and as you opened the front door all sluggish and lethargic, your mother just so happened to peep her head out of the kitchen to glare at you.

"Your test, where is it?" She didn't even make time for a greeting, straightforward and right to the point. You had to admire her for that, but that was about it.

So with great nervousness that you hid within a façade of serenity, your mother snatched the test from you and glared at the poor grade. You winced almost immediately when she did this, and you knew what was coming next.

"Seriously? You got another D? What are you doin'? Didn't I raise you better than this?!" She vociferated, hollering at you and scolding you for trying your best. Your honest best.

"I'm sorry, I studied this time..." You could only mutter with some attitude, keeping your head low as your mom tears up your test.

"Get out! Don't come back, you sleaze! What use are you here? Just another silly mouth to feed." Your mother's words had practically made you curl inward.

So without putting up much of a fight, you scampered off to your room to hide for a bit, rustling fabrics to make it seem like you were packing up. Maybe now Dallas would answer your call? Pfft, you were getting your hopes up again.

But maybe... maybe just one more try.

So off you went, feet pitter-pattering against the cold of the wood beneath your feet until you made it to the old telephone seated in the living room. Your fingers swiftly dialled his number, and that same sound of it ringing echoed through.

One ring... two rings... three...

Until finally, the sound of the ringing finished and a familiar tone of gruff sleepiness was to be heard on the other line.

"What? Who is it?" There he was! Dallas!

"Dally! Dal, it's me, don't hang up yet! My mom is kickin' me out, what do I do?" You pleaded over the phone, trembling in fear that your mother would catch you and berate you out of the house.

A sigh, and then a few words. "Sweetheart, what did you do now?"

Your heart thumped in your chest at his pet name, you hadn't heard it in weeks! But enough of that, you had to explain yourself well enough for his half asleep brain.

"Bad grades in school, she thinks I'm a sleaze or whatever... please? Can I come over and stay there for a bit? Promise I won't take up much space." You begged, awaiting an answer that you knew was like flipping a coin. Either a yes or a no.

Dallas was silent for a while, and your fingers twitched in anticipation as your mind silently chanted for a yes. He didn't have to like it, but he had to have had some pity on you since his dad did the same to him, right? Right?

"Fine, but bring some clothes. I'm not giving you a shirt for you to stink up with perfume. I'll park at the lot, be there in 15."

You beamed, nodding vigorously to yourself before he hung up the phone.

Not much later, Dallas had his little cigarette in his mouth, leaning against a tree as he awaited your arrival. It wasn't until you popped out from around the corner that Dally smiled a bit. Just a bit though.

"Fuckin' dumbass, come on." He teased, taking your bag from you just as a kind gesture before leading you to the stolen car of his.

Maybe failing wouldn't be so bad.