#/idk is this suggestive? or just blatant

[screamacrossthestars]

you have to preen your seeker daily to improve aerodynamics

[11-eyed-rook]

"You don't look disabled/trans/bi/like a guy/sick/diabetic/mentally ill/neurodivergent/autistic/in pain"

*Fucking smacks you with my big paws*

[hamzaheaven]

High fic with hamzah?

a/n: writing this fried as fuck so it only seemed right xxxx thank u for the req :’) also first time posting smut im terrified (its written in the way i enjoy smut so no vulgar words, moreso descriptions i guess?? idk pls im ashamed lowkey.) and its long as hell ok ill stop apologising now. sorry

tags: friends to lovers, tension.

warnings: weed smoking, dry humping.

NSFW <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

you feel your eyes strain slightly as the smoke spills from between your lips, your gaze focused mindlessly on the orange tip of the joint. you’re sitting on Hamzah’s bed, your back resting against his headboard. you and him had been friends for a while now, but it was starting to become harder for the both of you to ignore the blatant attraction and tension that lingered between you. the suggestive tones curling around every word, the glances that last a little too long. it was evident in everything, but you both seem to keep skirting around it. tonight, it feels heavier. hamzah had called you earlier, his voice laced with something softer than usual, asking if you wanted to come over and smoke. you didn’t hesitate. now, the two of you exist in easy silence. 

hazily, your attention drifts across the room. Hamzah is sitting in his desk chair, hunched over slightly as he edits a video on his computer. the screen is the only strong illumination in the otherwise dark room, the blue-ish light reflecting off the glasses on his face. your chest rises and falls slowly as you watch him, your eyes flicking across his back. his jaw clenches and unclenches in focus, his fingers moving over his mouse mindlessly. 

as if he notices your dwelling gaze, he turns his head over his shoulder to look back at you. another moment of comfortable, wordless silence passes as you simply stare at him, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“what?” he quietly asks, the ghost of a chuckle laced within the simple question. even from behind his glasses, you can tell his eyes have turned a little red, too, like your own. 

you blink your eyes slowly, sparking the lighter in your hand a couple of times before shaking your head and shrugging. “nothing,” you mumble back, looking down at the lighter for a moment before back up to him. “admiring my view,” you add, your tone a little unserious as you sit up slightly. 

he immediately returns his attention back to his screen, humorously shaking his head in disapproval. the sound of his mouse clicking is echoing throughout the silence once more. “don’t say that,” he stoically says, “ew,” he adds, but you are quick to catch the tiny twitch of a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

you can’t help but puff out a laugh, knowing how quickly he cringes at comments like that. silently, you relight the joint, your throat and lungs contracting slightly as you inhale. “you almost done?” you ask, your voice soft as the smoke billows out along with your words. 

he doesn’t respond immediately, humming instead. “yeah, just need to-” he starts, cutting himself off as he clicks around on his screen before continuing his sentence, “cut these clips a bit more…” 

a slightly dramatic sigh falls from your lips as you place the joint on the ashtray on his bedside table. “well, you better hurry up, or there won’t be anything left for you to smoke,” you reply, your words carrying a teasingly taunting tone. 

he clicks his tongue in response, still keeping his eyes focused on the screen. “don’t you dare,” he mumbles, his mouse now moving faster across his computer as you amusedly continue to watch. he takes another five agonisingly long minutes to finish up, turning his monitor off before sliding the desk chair back and getting up. in the now mostly dark room, he stretches, his bones crackling a little, a soft groan eliciting from his throat. you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, the same sheepish grin still on your face as he sluggishly pads over to the bed. “scoot,” he mumbles, scratching his hair and waving his hand for you to move to the other side of his bed. 

you do as he says, moving over to make room for him, your movements a little slower and heavier than usual. the mattress dips beside you, his body plopping down on where you had previously been sitting. a deep exhale passes through his lips as he sinks deeper against the pillows, shifting to get more comfortable. your eyes feel heavy as they seem glued to him, tentatively watching his every move. his fingers reach for the joint resting on the ashtray, taking off his glasses with his other hand. he looks at the joint for a second, before sparking the lighter, the orange flame illuminating his face in the dark room. you swallow sharply, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and lolling your head back gently against the headboard. hamzah’s yet to notice your shameless staring as he takes a long drag, inhaling before the smoke billows back out of his nose and parted lips. finally, he turns his head your way, catching your gaze as it was already on him. he mirrors your movements, resting his head on the headboard as well. 

the atmosphere in the room feels a little loaded, the tension between him and you almost palpable in the air, the effects of the marijuana only intensifying it. neither of you look away. his gaze flickers down for a second—just barely. it’s quick, but you catch it. the subtle drop of his eyes, lingering just a second too long on your lips before they snap back up to meet yours.

inhaling sharply, you move a little closer, teasingly placing your hand on his upper thigh as you lean over him, reaching for the joint he had laid back on the ashtray. he flexes the muscles in his thighs in reaction to your touch. your head feels fuzzy, your eyelids strained as you relight the tip, staying in place instead of moving back to your previous spot on the bed. the smoke passes through your parted lips, the taste of the green plant lingering in your mouth before you turn to look at Hamzah. 

his head is lolled back against the headboard as he watches you through low eyes, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. he shifts slightly as you keep your hand on his thigh, leaning on him to prop yourself up a little as you turn your body towards him fully. with your blood-shot eyes, you keep them locked onto his own, taking another drag before tentatively leaning closer. he watches with anticipation as you stop inches in front of his face, blowing the smoke against his parted lips teasingly. you flip the joint around in your fingers for him to wrap his lips around the end, but he doesn’t react for a moment. he seems to contemplate something, his chest rising and falling slowly as he blinks at you. 

wordlessly, he gently moves your hand away from his face, taking the joint from between your fingers and placing it on the ashtray. “c’mere,” he then mumbles, shortly nudging his chin upwards. his hand gently traces up your arm and into the crook of your neck, his fingers lacing in the hair at the back of your neck. you feel your chest flutter slightly at his soft command, watching gingerly as he tugs your face closer to his. 

teasingly, he ghosts his parted lips against yours, grinning to himself. he juts out his bottom lip a little, an airy exhale rolling off your tongue as it touches your mouth. you move your head to the other side, trying to find a way around his teasing, but he doesn’t immediately let up. instead, he removes his thumb from the back of your neck, carefully tracing it along your jawline until it reaches your bottom lip. he pads the finger across the soft, slightly damp skin. you can’t help but stifle a sigh, placing your other hand on his chest gently. a little frustratedly, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. 

he notices your frustrated gesture, biting back a light chuckle. his free hand tugs on your thigh, guiding your body to straddle his lap with heavy and slow movements. he exhales against your parted lips once more, teasing the tightened tether of tension carelessly once more before finally giving in. 

your hands slide up to his neck, your spine arching slightly as he gently presses his lips against yours. the dense haze in your head lifts just a little at the feeling, the hand that isn’t curled into the hair at the back of your head moving up your thigh and under your shirt. you inhale sharply against his mouth at his rather cold fingers stretching across the warm skin of your bare back. he applies a gentle pressure, pushing you down onto him a little. his eyebrows furrow, his heavy eyes fluttering shut at the friction. in response, you gently dig your nails into the back of his head. shivers continue to roll down your spine as he keeps his cold hand there, absentmindedly guiding the way you’re moving. 

you pull a hand through your hair, moving it out of the way, never breaking the kiss. something about the effects of the weed seems to make every touch, sound and move feel like a breathtaking bliss. a low, soft exhale tumbles from his throat, strangling into a whiny, barely audible moan. “fuck,” he curses against your lips when you roll your hips, just barely, experimentally, and a sharp inhale cuts through the space between you.

his fingers dig into your waist like he’s attempting to ground himself. his breath shudders as your hips roll over him again. his head falls back against the headboard with a quiet, broken sound—something between a sigh and a whimper. you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles go taut beneath your hands, the way his grip on you wavers between restraint and desperation.

“f-fuck,” he repeats, his voice thin and unsteady. he’s already unraveling, his chest rising and falling faster as his hands twitch against your skin. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this—so quickly undone, so easily wrecked just by the slow grind of your hips, the teasing drag of your fingers up his chest. 

you curl your spine slightly, leaning down as your lips ghost over his jaw, trailing down to the side of his neck, where you press a single, deliberate kiss to the warm skin just below his ear. his whole body tenses beneath you, a shaky, barely-contained whimper tumbling from his lips. 

“please–,” he starts, but he can’t seem to finish the sentence. his hands flex on your waist, his eyebrows furrowing deeper, his voice soft and whiny. 

you hum against his neck, the vibration making him shiver. “please, what? hm?” you murmur, your lips brushing against his pulse point, pressing a deep kiss there. 

he swallows hard, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “don’t… don’t stop,” he stammers, his voice catching on the words. His fingers twitch against your skin, restless, desperate, barely able to even guide your movements anymore. 

you pull back just enough to look at him, your gaze flickering over his face. his lips are parted, slightly swollen from how hard he’s been biting down on them in an attempt to be quieter. his pupils are blown wide, a deep furrow in his eyebrows. he looks wrecked already, and you’ve barely even touched him.

you tilt your head slightly as you listen to his quiet plea, making the coil in your lower abdomen tighten. your fingers tentatively trace the hem of his shirt before slipping beneath the fabric, dragging your nails lightly up his stomach. his breath stutters at the touch, and when you press them down slightly, just enough to make him feel it, he lets out a high, needy whimper. 

his hands shoot up, gripping your wrists like he’s trying to stop you—but his hold is weak, like he doesn’t actually want you to stop. “wait… wait,” he tries, his voice barely above a whisper, breathy and shaking, giving away he doesn’t want to cum so quick. his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering shut. his chest is heaving as you curiously halt your movements. 

you lean in again, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. “you’re so sensitive,” you murmur against his skin, and the way his breath catches, the way his thighs flex beneath you, tells you everything you need to know. you gently continue moving, bringing back the friction that was making him writhe underneath you. his taut muscles immediately melt again under your body, a whiny exhale falling from his parted lips. 

“y/n–...” he tries to speak, but your name is quick to die in his throat when you grind against him again, slower this time, more deliberate. his hands clench and unclench at your sides, his breathing turning into short, hitched gasps. his voice wavers, and then he lets out a soft, whiny moan that makes your pulse spike. you watch as his head turns to the side, his skin burning, like he’s embarrassed by the sounds slipping out of his mouth. 

but you don’t want him to be quiet. 

tilting his chin back toward you with a gentle hand, you hover just inches from his lips, your thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. “don’t hide from me,” you murmur, your voice softer now, coaxing, suggestive on the shell of his ear. “I want to hear you.”

his breath shudders, his grip on you tightening for a split second before going slack again. another curse word tumbles from his lips, his head dropping forward, his voice coming out in airy whines. “fuck… i’m, s-so close,” he stumbles over his whispered words, his chest heaving. 

you watch him, your own breath catching in your throat now, too. 

he lifts his head again, messily searching for your lips with his own, breathing raggedly. his grip on you is tight; harsh, almost as you continue rolling your hips, feeling how he pushes his own hips up every now and then. his whole body is tense, caught between pleasure and overwhelming sensitivity, and the way he’s looking at you—dazed, unfocused, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded—only spurs you on.

your mouths sloppily connect once more, and you can tell he’s struggling to focus. 

hamzah is trembling slightly beneath you now, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you keep moving against him, your nails roaming his back with deliberate slowness. his head tilts back, exposing the long curve of his throat, and the soft, desperate sounds spilling from his lips are enough to send heat pooling low in your stomach.

“i cant h… im gonna–,” his voice breaks on a whimper, the muscles in his thighs going taut, a string of loud moans following his cut off words. you watch with parted lips as his head drops back against the headboard. his expression contorts with the overwhelming ecstasy that thrills through all of his nerve endings, your nails digging into the skin of his chest as you feel the muscles in his stomach contract and release in rhythm with his whiny moans. they slowly grow softer, and you bite back a brief chuckle as you feel a growing, warm, wet spot in his pants underneath you. his hands slide down from your waist to your hips, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, seeming to relish in the sensations pulsating through his body. 

you swallow sharply, deliberately shifting a little on top of him, causing him to wince a little at the overstimulation of the sensitive area. he lazily opens his eyes into yours, his lips a little puffy and glistening as he keeps them parted, his panting slowing down slightly. his eyes are still a little unfocused and hazy as he flickers them across your face for a moment, a glint of endearment in them. he then drops his gaze down to his crotch, groaning a little. “look at this fucking mess,” he mumbles, also noticing the wet spot in the fabric, along with some of it splayed out on the skin of his stomach where his shirt had moved up. 

a breathy chuckle falls from your lips as he looks back up at you. “why would you make me ruin a perfectly good pair of sweatpants like that?” he asks jokingly, his eyes still half-lidded as he amusedly gazes at your state; a pink hue on your cheeks, lips puffy and damp, eyes heavy and your hair a little disheveled. he carefully wraps his arms around your waist, craning his neck so he can comfortably press a sweet, simple kiss on your mouth. 

you shrug playfully, grinning into the kiss. “my bad.”

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[purgatored]

" OKAY , I DON'T NEED YOU TO TELL ME WHAT YOU INDULGE IN IN YOUR SPARE TIME ." cherry replies with an arch of her brow, lips twitching despite herself . some part of her thinks that maybe growing up with three brothers was preparing her for charlie . he's frankly somehow both better and worse than all of them combined . it's almost comforting . familiar or whatever . cherry points to him with the neck of the bottle again as she leans her forearms on the motel desk, near sprawled over it as she adds a pointed, " you keep that shit to yourself ." cherry decides to christen the bottle by taking a sip herself, and yeah, it tastes something awful but she prides herself in not flinching . instead her eyes light up at the request, a grin flickering wide over her features . it likely matches charlie's a bit too well . " oh, yeah ? any requests ?" cherry moves to hand charlie the bottle as she prepares to hop on the counter, already more than ready to perform . ready to do almost anything to take her mind off this shitshow, really . " i gotta say ," her brows waggle as her grin broadens . " i do a mean american pie ."

‘   oh  yeah?     this  is  the  good  stuff?   ’     there’s  a  rained  edge  to  his  tone:   puddles  of  blued  leisure  in  his  laxed  posture.     in  a  blank  moment,   he’d  laugh.     for  now,   he  has  to  live.     and  a  warm  bottle  in  his  sweaty  hand  suits  that.     like  turning  yourself  inside  out,   feeling  your  own  blood  in  your  skin-bound  fingertips.     his  voice  is  coarse,   smoked  in  age.     ‘   think  i’d  prefer  a   wet  bag  of  piss,   with  a  dash  of   ( … )   sewage  water.     but  i’m  all  outta  piss.     so  this’ll  just  have  do,   huh?   ’     the  grin  is  not  shy,   not  even  when  it  rounds  to  the  clamouring  heat  behind  that  window.     twenty  paces  in  front  of  them,   up  to  his  left.     out  of  sight   /   toothed  mind.     it  only  widens  his  mirth.     but  she  flickers,   like  a  bothered  wire,   and  he  decides  to  extend  his  latent  gaiety.     how  to  enjoy  the  chorus  of  a  thunderous  rainstorm.     ‘   gimme  a  song,   cherry  pop.     gimme  a  round  of  karaoke.   ’

[stupidlittlespirit]

Ford wearing tank tops around you on hot days just to tease you

*falls to my knees* OKAY LISTEN

because I was thinking about this and like...... Beyond the matter of him exposing his scars and tattoos and what that represents, the pure nosebleed-level hotness I can picture in my head is making me chew on my bars rn.

(Setting the below in mtb)

Ford in a white vest, the front of it just slightly lower than it ought to be because the material is a touch too tight over his chest (he really didn't do that on purpose, he's just big boned, he swears), steely chest hair poking out the top and around the bands on his shoulders..... UGH. A hundred points extra if it's one of those slutty little fishnet vests instead.

He's..... idk..... chopping wood in the backyard let's say, preparing for the evening fire he always likes to read in front of (it's 100 degrees out there, he's not gonna have a fire tonight, you know that and so does he, but you're not going to bring that up rn).

You can see each and every muscle group flex under his skin with the swing of his axe; his arms are exposed, the curve of his biceps highlighted by the perspiration that's building on his skin and soaking the fabric. He's sweating and grunting and really he's chopped enough enough wood at this point to see the entire household through the next four winters, but who's going to stop him? You? No chance.

So you observe him for god only knows how long out of the kitchen window and after a solid hour of watching him work up a sweat, he heads back towards the house. He's flushed and soaked (and frankly, so are you), and you scramble to make yourself look busy when he returns to the kitchen.

He greets you and you return it, and you offer him a cold glass of water because "oh doctor pines, you must be exhausted, you've been out there working soooooo hard!" and Ford smirks and says something smart about keeping active in his old age. He takes the glass from you and downs it easily in one go, and the entire time you're watching him not-so-subtly like:

You're both playing games with each other. Ford knows you're watching him (and he's doing very well at playing along, he hopes you're proud of him for that) and you know he's showing off just to get a rise out of you. It's fun to toy with each other in that sense and you're sure that if the temptation were less, you'd be able to keep it up all day, but as it is.... Ford looks too good and you're too tightly wound to let this drag out.

So you politely suggest that if he's so warm, perhaps he ought to cool off with a shower or something, that always helps you when you're feeling overwhelmed.

Ford nods sagely and takes the suggestion to heart ("I think you're right, my dear. I'm awfully hot under the collar this evening.") and just after he's finished his water, he glances over the rim of the glass and looks you up and down. It's after a moment of very blatant checking-you-out that he makes the suggestion that you're looking rather flustered yourself, perhaps you should consider one too.

You agree, but you warn him that Stan has already been on your ass for pushing up his water bills by showering at their place instead of your own, and you'd hate to get into trouble again..... So perhaps this time, you and Ford should share the responsibility and kill two birds with one stone.

And Ford concurs. Wholeheartedly and passionately. If his brother wants to keep their costs low then Ford would be a truly terrible housemate if he allowed anything to the contrary, wouldn't he?

[tadpolesonalgae]

omg girl I am dying for more safeword series with az!!! Post more and my life is yours🙏🙏🙏

Haha, I'm glad you've liked it up until this point! It's good to hear that <3

This is just a snippet to let you know that progress is actually being made - just much slower than usual 😅

warnings: references to past sexual intimacies? idk how to phrase it. Also incase it isn't obvious - reader is ovulating

'Azriel seems able to sense your shifts in mood when the time rolls around, noticing the shorter bed clothes, the influx of flirtation, the light touches as you pass. Sometimes it’s as simple as curling up against his side before nightfall, but other times it’s more blatant—kissing his wings before hurrying off to wash before bed, or pressing yourself into his lap when he sits in the evenings to read.  Not to mention your scent.  Sweeter; more inviting. As if your very biology is beckoning fingers for him to follow, anatomy batting her eyelashes as she throws him a suggestive glance. He can’t help how he pulls you closer in his sleep, often the two of you waking slotted lazily together, something deliciously thick and hard pressing into your rear.  Those few weeks are an absolute blessing, for both of you.  Though with the flirtation comes the desire to push at him, to test and tease him, to see how much patience he has before he’s doing something obscene to your body. Things that don’t usually play a part in the intimacies of your life suddenly making an appearance. Six months ago it had been taking you in the garden, away from the privacy of your bedroom, spread out beneath the summer’s sun as he’d slung your legs over his hips, laying back in the lush grass, and enjoyed the ride. The months before that, it had been a burst of degradation, leaving you hot and panting with every word that slipped from his honeyed mouth. Another time it had been a fixation with lips, tongues and teeth, exploring one another with bound arms and blind eyes, tracing over the jutting bone of his hip with the very tip of your tongue. Now, you stretch lethargically beneath the covers, muscles shuddering as they reawaken, like silk feathers across your skin, back arching with fresh pleasure from the crisp air. Glancing to the window, you find it ajar, allowing the morning breeze to wash through the peace of your bedroom, thin curtains fluttering with the gentle wind. Heat curls in the pit of your belly, small embers glowing faintly as you push the covers back, the warmth washing away with them, left wrapped in a hazy cocoon of your own body heat, the remnants keeping you sleepy.  Beside you, Azriel’s spot is empty, and you roll into the deep indent, bathing in his scent, pressing it into your clothes as you inhale, nosing at the sheets, embers heating with pleasant intensity. '

[knight-of-flowerss]

Dad!Trucker!Cregan driving his 4+ small cute kids to and from elementary school in his big truck while they annoy him asking to get food from McDonalds 😭

YES OMG THEY WOULD TOTES DO THAT HEHEHE

A part that is suggestive but everything else is just tooth rotting fluff!!

Trucker!Cregan being a dad.

MASTERLIST

"Fuck off." Cregan says over the steady hum of the truck.

Three little kids are squished on the seats next to him, no car seat, just a seatbelt across them. His youngest, Denny, is on his lap, no more room on the seats with his siblings but he is also too young to be trusted to stay up right.

"Daddy please!" His little girl, Gilly, whined. "No. What I say goes little girl." He barks out, eyes on the road as he makes his way to their shitty towns shitty pre-school.

"Micbonalbs!" Ned slurs out. Despite being a torturous child who likes to, well, basically torment others, he has a speech impediment. And Cregan is slowly starting to understand why you think that he's getting bullied for it, that you think his mean streak is him lashing out. And he understands why he's getting bullied because what the actual fuck is this kid saying?

"No. We're already fuckin' late. Ya momma's gon' kill me, fucks sake." He mutters under his breath. He knows he's gonna have to deal with your fucking attitude later. But, he'll just do what he always does. Fuck it out of you.

And thats how it is for a few days. Them bugging him for fucking McDonald's of all places. And one day, he breaks. Not because his walls are getting dissolved by his baby girls big doll eyes, but because he was hungry too. And you had kicked them out of the house early because, well, to be honest, all of them were acting up.

So he had time to kill.

He ignored the blatant safety risk he posed by just pulling into that drive-in with his kids all stuffed in like that, and it seems that the teenager at the window didn't give that much of a fuck either.

Four happy meals; one nuggets and three burgers, four fruit shoots, two Big Macs, two large fries and two large cokes with a coffee. He couldn't leave you out. But he needed a fucking coffee after these kids so he bought himself something extra.

And this is the moment he knew he would never back out of this life. As much as he hated to admit it, he was scared. He was scared of being a dad, a dad of six soon. But seeing three of his kids chewing on their burgers with determination while he tears nuggets up for the youngest in his lap as he scoffs down the left overs from all of his kids, he knew it was meant to be.

And strangely, as he looks at the two Big Macs, the large fries and large coke, he knew he loved you. That you were the only one he wanted.

But he'd never admit that.

Tried summin a little different and idk if it's good or not :p

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * A lesson to Learn — Gojo Satoru

Tw: no smut but very very suggestive; Reader is like 4-5 years younger than Gojo; idk? Not proof read; Gojo’s mean :(

“What were you thinking?” A growl met your ears, panting, you dare not look up at him—“was it necessary to be acting like a fuckin’ child? Huh?”

It was the first Satoru had used a harsh tone in front of you- let alone at you- it was baffling in most senses.

More baffling was the way your eyes yearned to look at his annoyed stature, to see his face contorted with rage—baffling was the way you partially did it to get his attention.

Stranded that you stood with him, the middle of nowhere blanketed your forms—a clearance.

“Well?” A lick of your lips, you raised you head finally, hesitantly, a hand on his hip and the blindfold entirely off—you would’ve almost cowered at the way he glowered at you.

“I-” you paused, what explanation would you offer?

There was nothing except the blatant truth that you had wanted his attention, his praise- something he’d been generous with for the past many weeks with his students.

Another lick of your lips, had you known the way Satoru stared at you in this moment still, enamouring all the more.

Slow, your eyes trailed at his figure—his shirt lay sweat soaked, breathy pants his too, it was a tough mission, and he was right too—all you actually was hinder him.

The vision was clear, you were on the ground, as a heap—not a scratch on your face, Satoru wouldn’t ever let that happen after all—he stood unscathed too, “what? Huh? Are you that much of a moron? Don’t fucking follow me, simple instructions- hell my first years carry out instructions better than you.”

Defiant, in the way he spoke—“listen, Toru’ I just… I don’t know what came over me— you went alone and Ieiri told me it’s a tough mission so I just wanted to-”

“-help? By getting your ass handed back to you? Let some things remain in the hands of those who do it best,”

Your face fell at that, best? Sure you weren’t as good as him but…it wasn’t that you were weak?

“I just wanted-”

“No. I’ll tell you what you wanted,” and a sudden way your face flushed, it wouldn’t be that he knew…right?

“You wanted nothing more than my attention huh? Think I don’t notice your shit? Wearing those short fuckin’ skirts to “look over” the training? Giggling around with Nanami? Think I don’t notice your need for my attention? Really? Gonna drop so low to compete with kids for it?”

You’d known it was mostly shameful but just the way he reminded you, the way he was doing nothing but berating you—you couldn’t help the blurry vision your tears suddenly provided.

“Get up,” he scoffed, “C’mere,” you hesitated, did he know you were down there with tears in your face—of course he did.

He was Gojo Satoru.

Steady, you stood up, shaky from the entire experience, shy of becoming just a mess—you stood up, Satoru moved closer and suddenly the proximity was all you could notice.

You were sure, as you stood inches away from him, he was still calling you out—calling off your sheer idiocy but however could you pay attention to that when all you could focus on was the way his abs were visible slightly through the shirt—the way his glossy lips never stopped moving—the way visions of his hand lifting you so casually came flashing in right about now—

“You’re such a whore huh? Here I am going off about how stupid you’ve been and All you wanna do is stare at me?”

Another moment of your ears tipping so hot it was hard to bear it—“n-no I-”

A hand held up, placed quick on your waist, “if a bad girl is what you’re gonna act like then I don’t have issues teaching you a lesson- hell I think that’s the only way your perverted little brain can think,”

A shaky breath was all you could let out, gulping at the facts he presented, and for a second silence that befell you—you stared at his lips, his, yours.

Just a lean in and you could taste him, and lean in he did, fingers gripping your jaw slight, a dark smile he bore.

Your breath hitched- mouth falling open, you continued staring dumbly, a scoff he passed—“as is you like acting stupid school girl who wants attention right? About time you get enough of it—and before the kiss…I think there’s a lesson I gotta drill in,”

“Here?”

An internal face palm you offered yourself—of everything sketchy about possibly having a suggestive conversation with Gojo Satoru, the strongest, someone you’ve admired ever since your first year (and his sudden stops at the school to catch up with everyone), someone who’ve dreamt of since you were 16 and now 24 — the location should’ve been the last of your issues.

A humourless chuckle he passed, “always knew there was a slut in you somewhere,”

A small pout drifted onto your face at that—now uttering a humoured chuckle, his fingers traced your cheek—“don’t think for a second you’re off the hook, y’er just lucky that I’ve wanted you slightly more than you, me.”

Yeah, y’all fuck like bunnies after this <3 I may or may not expand on to it soon.

All of this work is original and entirely my own— please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[tired-fandom-ndn]

This might be controversial to say but it actually bothers me a lot whenever there's an unlabeled queer woman in something and the fandom immediately leaps on calling her a canon lesbian, partly because it is just blatant (and, in my experience, often deliberate) erasure of mspec women but also because other fans get viciously attacked for headcanoning that character as mspec or shipping her with men.

Idk. Maybe it's not that big of a deal but why is the assumption always that a queer woman in media is a lesbian by default? Why can't she be bi or pan? Why are mspec fans attacked for even daring to suggest that a character could be like them?

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki oki oki

so i love, you love, and we love the whole "everyone sees moshang except for moshang" thing, bc it's funny to have everyone else be like "ohwow those two idiots dont realize they're married huh"

but like

might i suggest the alternative?

idk i was rereading svsss and like, since the whole thing is basically shen yuan's pov and he's a relatively level headed dude, i can't help but think about the way that he looks at moshang

like, he really doesn't seem to have any idea that moshang could be a thing. from his pov, shang qinghua/airplane is a sniveling backstabbing asshole who gets what deserves and deserves quite a bit more thwacks and mobei jun is just kinda... there. like even after knowing shang qinghua for YEARS and being fairly close people who can confide in one another, shen yuan seems pretty fucking shocked when airplane jumps off a cliff to save mobei jun. from his pov, it's almost random. like "huh wow that is the weirdest thing i've seen all week, and airplane is NORMALLY very weird so like... huh???"

now by the time the airplane extras occur, shen yuan DOES seem to have some idea of moshang with his whole "youre just waiting for him to apologize and keep beating you" thing, but again, might i point you to the YEARS it took him to get to that point. having to see shang qinghua literally pull a death defying stunt to save mobei jun's life before he sees even a glimmer of moshang

like, when they were working on the mushroom together, they clearly spent a long time with each other. they had to travel together, they had to come up with plans together, they also likely just had social visits bc being the only other transmigrator in a world that is so fucking weird would definitely drive up a certain level of honesty and companionship

now again, shen yuan is lowkey the sort of guy who's like "i dont see gay themes even when they're reeeeaaalllyy obvious", especially with relation to himself (dont get me started on how one of my least fav mxtx themes, after the blatant crummy treatment of female characters, is the whole "im not GAY, gay is WEIRD, im gay FOR YOU, thats DIFFERENT" which winds up reflecting as internalized homophobia their protags), so it's possible that moshang is obvious to everyone who isnt shen yuan.

BUT I CONTEND THE OPPOSITE

as ive expressed before, i love "mobei jun is just fucking weird, demon courting isnt like that" headcanons, so what if no one knows what the fuck is happening between moshang. like they're just this super weird mismatched combination of people that everyone just kinda tilts their head at like "...huh, wouldnt expect to see those two together but whateves" and then proceed to not fucking care to know the answer

shang qinghua seems to have kept a purposeful emotional distance from... everyone (likely due to the whole "haha everyone here is gonna fucking DIE someday" thing) and as said above, even after years of a relationship with shen yuan, he doesn't seem to have talked about mobei jun to him much (who is, by airplane's own admission, the most important person to him in this world considering he's the only person that had airplane going "i mean... maybe i dont push the go home button?"). so no one really seems to give a fuck who he's hanging out with bc he's not exactly out here making friends

and mobei jun, i contend, is a weirdo outcast who does not know how to socialize bc his uncle is a dick LOL. also his father. and also his childhood. and other demons tend to look at him and go "fucking weird man... i think he keeps a human pet?? kinda weird but w/e, the emperor is into necrophilia so /shrug/"

so like, maybe if anyone paid attention to them, they might notice the signs of moshang, but because most people kinda dismiss them, no one knows

I CONTEND THAT THE ONLY ONE WHO DOES KNOW IS LUO BINGHE THO

mostly because i find it FUCKING HILARIOUS but also bc i like to think luo binghe's whole "youre not used to his lil human pet yet? he brings it everywhere smh get over yourself" thing was luo binghe's way of being a wingman lmfao. he wont actually help or offer advice or do anything USEFUL, but he'll allow them to hang out when he has every ability to separate them LOL and i think that's funny

altho i still like the idea of luo binghe ALSO not knowing that moshang is a thing pfff. but having him know also amuses me.

ANYWAY ONTO THE ACTUAL APPLICATION INTO MOSHANG IDEAS

now the use in modern au's goes without saying. the good ol' "wait, THOSE TWO ARE A THING?!" coming from everyone who knows them. as an example, some form of workplace romance and even tho moshang can always be seen together in the office, because they dont seem to get along and no one cares, everyone is just like "shrug, they have a project together idc". like they're more likely to think that shang qinghua and shen yuan are dating bc at least those two have secretive meetings and have been caught, more than once, talking about sex. then one day shang qinghua shows up to work with the biggest rock on his finger pfff and mobei jun has a matching wedding band or someshit and everyone is shocked. or even better, some of the romantic pre-relationship stuff starts happening at the office but it's all stuff that's kinda easily misunderstood. and since no one would guess THOSE TWO together romantically, they just come up with any other plausible explanation. "why did mobei jun send shang qinghua flowers? idk, maybe his mom died. should we send him flowers too?" its not even a 'it couldnt be THAT', it's a straight up 'THAT never even crossed their minds for a second' until it gets really fucking ridiculous lololol then mobei jun and shang qinghua are applying for the same days off and mu qingfeng in HR is like "oki what for" and has to NOT do a spit-take when the two of them are like "our wedding" or someshit lolol

LOOK I JUST THINK IT'S VERY FUNNY

now as for the post-canon application, i still find this IMMENSELY amusing. for the sake of my amusement, im also choosing to interpret shen yuan's "you just want an apology" statement to have been given without imagining that the two of them might like-like each other. he's just being dismissive because airplane is fucking weird. like "look, idk why you are into role-playing as a humble servant and idk if i wanna know, actually, i definitely dont wanna know. you two clearly dont even like each other but you're in some weird co-dependent mess of a... friendship? friendship seems like a strong word. point being, get out of my house"

no one has the slightest clue about moshang's feelings for one another (except maybe binghe lolol) and they are REALLY not ready for when suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, shang qinghua is sending in his two weeks notice for an ding peak bc "oh im the northern consort now lol" and everyone is trying to just understand WHEN and HOW

like people straight up being like "is this a prank? i feel like im being pranked?" and others like "oh they might have gotten like... fake married? is this an insurance scam? hmm"

and basically for the first time ever people are really trying to understand and think about moshang bc they are SO FUCKING CONFUSED. there are betting pools over what the REAL REASON behind this CLEARLY fake marriage is. luo binghe has put his bet on "they're actually in love and fr married" and people SCOFF. he's the only one betting that and wow, the demon emperor is clearly blinded by his own weird relationship and cant see that NORMALLY this sort of relationship would NEVER happen

(actually this could apply for modern au too pff whateves, im jsut having fun here)

inquiring minds just being like "shang qinghua, blink twice if you're being threatened, we can get you out of there". demons out here like "we should prrobabblyy find the cure for whatever potent love-poison that creepy lil human slipped into mobei jun's drink, or maybe a mind-control plant?"

stuck on whether i want moshang to be utterly oblivious to everyone elses skepticism bc they're just on their happy lil honeymoon stage or if i want them to find the confusion Deeply amusing.

moshang get-together being dramatic but not bc either of them are oblivious, just bc there are communication issues pff. theres no "i love you" "but you CANT love me" drama, instead its "i love you" "oh shit SWEET, lemme hop on your dick". i like the idea of moshang only struggling to understand one another when the pair of them are holding the other at arms length (mobei jun being a tsundere and airplane out here like "getting attached and taking things srsly IS THE ENEMY") but whenever theres like, a clear statement of intent, they're quick to let go of misunderstandings and just get on with it. now while i favor this interpretation of their characters, i find it PARTICULARLY funny in au's like this! bc it also means that the pair of them learned to understand all of their weird behavior as well. so they're still fucking weird around each other, so people really dont believe this is real. mobei jun is still just as likely to yeet shang qinghua into a death cave and shang qinghua is just as likely to literally hug mobei jun's thighs while pleading for mercy. it doesnt LOOK like a loving relationship to anyone with eyes LOL (not to say that they dont grow and treat each other better, but just having a deeper understanding of one another means they dont change behavior 100%)

which actually isnt why i find it funny lol, i just enjoy the subversion of expections. rather than moshang being oblivious to the point of mind-numbing hair pulling stupidity, it's the rest of the world x'D and then it's just moshang casually proving that nah, they're for real, and yep, they're super in love, to an increasingly confused audience

this could work really well in a celebrity au now that i think about it LOL bc celebs so frequently have fake relationships and hidden relationships and all that sort of weird shit and people love to speculate about it online. so just everyone being like "calling it right fucking now, this relationship is a publicity stunt" and literally NO ONE believes they're for real, even years into it LOL. im actually usually a person who really doesnt care for celebrity au's but tbh this prompt fits so well for that, so im sold

but it goes beyond just fans speculating online. even fellow coworkers are like "huh, weird choice of publicity stunt" and dont believe for one fucking second that moshang is actually happening. oki yeah im sold

shang qinghua - famous author turned screenwriter (does some directing and he's actually pretty good at it, has a cult following, but mainly he sticks to writing. he doesnt need that kind of stress in his life LOL). he's finally reached a sort of financial stability with his work, but he hasnt broken the habit of doing whatever the audience wants because "I DONT WANNA FUCKING STARVE BRO", and he's generally disheartened when his works that he puts his sincere vision into have a tendency to be SIGNIFICANTLY less popular

mobei jun - actor, specially known for stunts and action movies. doesnt actually have any history of scandals, other than it's known that he's kinda hard to work with. just kinda cold and distant. THERE ARE some lowkey scandals with his family tho. he's definitely a nepo baby of the industry and his uncle and father dont have clean reputations. mobei jun normally keeps a pretty big distance away from them so he's kinda like, in the splash zone but not dragged in.

shen yuan - long time fan of shang qinghua's work, even back when the hack of an author was just posting web novels, his favorite insult is to call him a sell-out bc very often his deepest criticisms of shang qinghua's works are clearly choices made for money. as an example, a perfectly directed film that he wrote and nearly brought shen yuan to tears and quickly became his favorite movie EXCEPT theres fucking product placement in NEARLY EVERY FUCKING SCENE and sometimes it makes the movie fucking UNWATCHABLE. anyway, shen yuan runs the fansite for shang qinghua and is a LITTLE BIT OBSESSED with his works, but still has a love/hate relationship with the whole thing

luo binghe - pop idol who sometimes does acting work. he's known as an all-around talent. his acting is just as good as his singing, if not better, and basically everything he tries to do is wildly successful and genuinely fucking good. he's insanely popular to a scary degree (shen yuan is only familiar with his work bc he's acted in some of qinghua's movies and sometimes qinghua uses his music, shen yuan has an overall favorable impression of the celebrity but no obsession. mostly a "oh nice, that actor is really good, that and THAT HACK AUTHOR directing is sure to make this a must-watch movie" type of fanning)

liu qingge - stunt man and martial artist. he's not crazy famous, he's more like "if you're really into martial arts, you've definitely heard of him" or "if you're really into stunt work, you've heard of him" famous. but if you don't have those special interests, you have no idea. he MIGHT look faintly familiar to you, but you're unlikely to put a name to the face

shen jiu - actor, many scandals, SO MANY SCANDALS. he's very successful, infamously difficult to work with, has so many accusations hurled at him (and a majority of them are true) that when you hear "omg did you hear abt shen jiu" the answer is "ohyeah, the red-light district thing?" and the reply to that is "nonono, that was LAT MONTH, im talking abt the abuse allegations that came out yesterday!" and so on and so forth. shen jiu is a hot fucking mess and the industry has NOT helped him one bit. he has the money and power to get away with being his worst self and he Does Not Fucking Care (he cares so fucking much, he's literally burning from the inside out)

yue qingyuan - childhood friends with shen jiu, kind of accidentally being an enabler of shen jiu's spiral to hell. he's a producer and he's very successful and he keeps paving the way for shen jiu to continue getting work and help to bury scandals and basically the dude is trying his best, but he really should be putting his foot down and sending his friend to rehab instead of helping him like this

sha hualing - actress, does her own stunts, very temperamental. difficult to work with in that she's a bit (a lot) of a loose canon. she's hyper capable though and VERY popular. not a ton of scandals other than some violent behavior. she's also very good at dancing, basically anything that involves moving her body, she excels. her and mobei have totally starred in action movies together where theyre basically "hot beefy action hero and sexy badass love interest". they have a casual frenemy relationship

liu mingyan - average fanfiction writer, huge fan of rpf. she is relatively untouched by her brothers fame and intends to keep it that way. that said, she's more than happy to utilize the gossip that her brother sometimes brings home to implement as 'headcanons' into her fanfics >:D she does not tell her brother about this pfff. she also does martial arts and she's very good, but she has no desire to pursue fame. the closest she gets to it is sometimes watching her brother on a set (while secretly paying attention to everyone else for rpf bait LOL). she is not a fan of the whole moshang thing because it separates her otp (mobing for life!) and she's also convinced that its CLEARLY fake

mu qingfang - doctor, just a normal doctor, no fame involved. but his guilty pleasure is that he enjoys looking at celebrity gossip while on break. it's just a very lowkey sort of cathartic drama that he has no stakes in and helps him destress from his very stressful job. he mostly just lurks, but he's been known to write the occasional comment if he feels he has some useful insight to contribute

ning yingying - over-worked office lady. she wanted to be a pop idol when she was younger but it just wasnt in the cards. now she just enjoys getting a little parasocially invested in celebrity gossip, ESPECIALLY around luo binghe bc she's a. a mega fan. b. they were actually classmates in highschool. she's a fierce defender of his online and also one of those people who gets kinda offended by rpf bc "HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT" but also hypocritically will read every single "rpf character x reader" fanfic she can get her hands on

ming fan - luo binghe's hater online. mostly because he also knew him in highschool and hated the guy and now he's ugly jealous of his success. he likes to spread mean rumors about binghe online, just to blow off some steam. but his stupid obsession with slandering his ex-classmate sort of grew into a genuine interest in celebrity gossip and now he's a bit of an internet troll who's a little too invested in this shit. he's not a complete asshole and there are lines he won't cross, buuut he's also one of those assholes who sorta feels like "its online so it doesnt count if im a huge asshole" and just is his worst self online. he constantly gets in fights with ning yingying online (without knowing its her) about luo binghe. shen yuan sometimes gets involved too bc while he's not huge into the binghe fandom (that place scares him) he IS big on fact checking and whenever ming fan says something OBVIOUSLY false, shen yuan can't help but go in for corrections

qi qingqi - actress, successful, very low drama. she's famous and well liked, no major scandals, just a successful woman with a good career.

zhuzhi-lang - works as his uncles assistant. he keeps track of online drama because its part of his job, sometimes his uncle has him spread rumors online too so he has a few alts that are believable fan accounts for various celebrities.

tianlang-jun - one of those people who's basically famous just for being famous. he has done a bit of everything, but it's mostly that he's a household name that makes him famous. he currently works as a producer because he finds it really fucking funny. but it's anyones guess when he'll get bored of this and flit off to do something else that catches his fancy

su xiyan - model and martial artist. she's mostly famous for her TURBULANT relationship with tianlang-jun. she's skilled at both her crafts and has success, but she has no real ambition for fame. also her career is often held back by the shitty people in her life (her ex-mentor being PRIME among them, the grooming old scumbag). she got pregnant with binghe very early in her career and gave him away for adoption for various reasons. she has a good relationship with his adopted mother, but she's chosen to stay out of binghe's life. tianlang-jun doesn't know binghe is his son LOL

meng mo - thinks of himself as a star-maker, he's luo binghe's manager and has a VERY high opinion of his skills bc he's had a few successful clients. he does however tend to give very bad personal life advice

yang yixuan - one of liu qingge's students. he's only passively aware of celebrity gossip, it's really not his thing, but he is a bit of a mobei jun fan. mostly bc mobei jun does his own stunts and yan yixuan can recognize the skill involved and just thinks the guy is really fucking cool (not more cool than liu qingge OBVIOUSLY but still cool). he's very disappointed to hear abt this clearly fake relationship with shang qinghua, he thought that mobei jun was above all that petty celebrity bullshit of fake relationships and tabloid bait

gongyi xiao - aspiring young actor, overall just a nice guy. no scandals, not really famous yet but he has a promising lil fanbase that is slowly growing. however, he does have a bad habit of answering too honestly while being interviewed which can inadvertently have bad consequences LOL (example: "so what do you think of this moshang thing?" "hm, i mean, it really surprised me? seemed out of nowhere haha, i guess good for them??" which quickly spirals into "omg gongyi xiao CLEARLY knows it's fake! he cant lie for shit! THIS IS BASICALLY EVIDENCE")

qin wanyue - binghe fan, terminally parasocial, lives off of rpf fanfiction, literally missed her younger sisters funeral to attend a binghe concert, probably needs professional help like yesterday. when the online conversations of moshang start involving binghe, she gets VERY FUCKING UPSET

little palace mistress - nepo baby pop idol. very obsessed with binghe but also in a love/hate sort of way bc he doesnt do what she WANTS him to do and she craves the obedience. she takes out her impudent rage online. she's a big mobei jun hater bc she saw the mobing conspiracies before moshang happened AND SHE SAW RED. she now wants moshang to crash and burn bc she hates mobei jun with an irrational passion. she is doing her best to sabotage whatever stupid publicity stunt this is

(ships: moshang, bingyuan, liujiu, mingling)

moshang had their own super slowburn romance of actor x director that happened over the course of years and the mutual pining was basically killing them both and they had their own dramatic love confessions and shit, but it all happened behind closed doors so no one knows any of that. all they know is that this relationship Makes No Sense and internet sleuths are very invested with UNCOVERING THE TRUTH

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi idk if your mutuals with @/fangdokja but she’s apparently homophobic 🙁 Check out @/moyazaika latest post

I'd like to respond to this because silence is often considered implicit agreement, and I want to be clear.

Firstly, @fangdokja has been an incredible friend to me and I'm not afraid to be open about it. Secondly, I'd like to hash through my own perspective of this through the lens of a) someone who studies politics and b) someone who writes queer content.

If there's one thing you ought to know, it's that I love studying theory. Economic and political models are my bread and butter. But political and social issues like homophobia and religion are rarely as black and white as the theory suggests. The intricacies of personal relationships get lost.

Queer communities have fought for decades for the most basic rights. And in most of the developing world, that fight is far from over. To me, the blatant hompohobia I grew up around undoubtedly shaped my perception. Saying "I don't support this" is, to me, miles away from the slurs and aggression and disgust I've spent so much of my life witnessing.

It's not as simple as "we can exist outside our beliefs." Because I don't think that's possible. But I do think actions speak much louder than anything else.

Fang HAS been incredibly supportive. Not just publicly, but also behind the scenes. The fact that I openly write queer content hasn't once put a strain on our friendship. She treats me with the same care and respect she extends to everyone else.

Fang has spent HOURS helping me with my writing. She's gone above and beyond, compiling a huge doc to help me streamline my work. She's been open and supportive of me from the very outset. Her inbox has always been open to my rants and complaints and general harassment. Would you do that for someone if you despised them? If you thought their beliefs were inherently immoral?

I'm not going to sit around and claim "people can be friends beyond politics!" Because that's tired and trite. It doesn't take into account the intersections of oppression and repression queer people face on the daily. It doesn't consider the dehumanisation of the other. But I will speak in regards to praxis. And I will speak to my experience interacting with Fang as an openly queer blog.

I understand where @moyazaika is coming from, and I admire him for being so open and for taking such a strong stance. Like they said, it's up to you as a reader to engage ethically with the work you consume. Where you draw those lines is entirely up to you, and this where I draw mine.

My interactions with Fang have not in any way been bigoted or homophobic. And I think several thousand (literally. you have no idea how long our DMs get) words exchanged is a much better indicator of attitude and belief than a singular comment.

[coff33andb00ks]

33 with Oscar please? It is August but I am READY for autumn and spooky season already!

"Are you a witch?"

driver + number = drabble <3

ahh autumn and spooky season how I adore thee!! i hope you enjoy ❤️

warnings/themes: not proofread, reader and/or oscar might actually be a witch, hints of dark!oscar, vague historical au of some type idk

suggested listening: Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac ('97 live)

When you met him, you were intrigued. Most men were intimidated by you, but not him. He was unflappable, his energy stoic, and in a sea of chaotic boys, it was nice to meet a man.

He didn't engage, he observed. Sometimes others would interact with him but his quiet nature tended to put them off, not that he seemed to mind. From what you noticed, he appeared to prefer being left alone.

You became enthralled.

You saw him - Oscar of Australia - everywhere, an ever present shadow in town, lingering like the mist in the mornings then disappearing when you actively looked for him. The season was changing and the mist grew deeper each night, the air crisper each time you took your nightly trek through the forest.

Hunter's moon. Withering plants. Trees shedding their brightly colored leaves.

The woods smelled of dirt and damp and you felt serene there, away from everyone and everything. There was an energy among the trees that you couldn't find anywhere else and so you were drawn to them every night, like all the luckless sailors lured by the siren's calls in the tales told by the fireside.

But unlike the unfortunate sailors, you were aware of the dangers.

Animals. Fearsome beasts that were docile when treated with respect. Unlike the so-called men in town, you much preferred the company of the bears and wolves roaming the forests, for they didn't attack unprovoked.

You were able to be free, untethered by the constraints of expectations while in town, where you were meant to behave as a lady.

The moonlight was dappled on the leaves scattered across the forest floor and you breathed in the mist that swirled around you. Owls in the distance called and the wind whispered through the branches, nature's music adding a bounce to your step. You were almost to the clearing when you heard it.

Snap.

Your heart went still and your steps ceased. Listening closely, you realized it wasn't an animal. At least, not the four legged kind. You strained to listen, and then you heard the whisper of a breath. You spun, searching the shadows, hand reaching for the dagger you kept on you.

Oscar stepped out into the moonlight, one corner of his mouth lifted into a slight smirk.

"Not going to stab me, are you?" he asked softly.

It was the first time he'd ever spoken to you directly. If you hadn't been so wary of his being in the woods - your woods, your safe place - you would have been shocked. Instead you relaxed a little, lowering your hand to your side. "No."

He looked at you, his smirk disappearing as his gaze slid over you, so blatant you could feel the heat of his eyes. "What brings you out at night?" he asked, moving closer, like a cat stalking its prey.

You refused to be scared. He was just a man. "I like the night."

"But you come out every night." He tilted his head, the moonlight glittering in his eyes.

Brown as the pine needles beneath your feet, strains of black like the dirt on your fingers when you gathered mushrooms.

"Are you a witch?" he whispered.

A small ripple of fear ran down your spine. You were well aware of what would happen if you said yes. So you turned the question on him. "Are you?"

Oscar hummed. "I'm many things at many times."

"You didn't answer the question," you whispered.

He leaned close, his cheek brushing yours as he brought his lips to yours. "Neither did you."

[ficandkaboodle]

For the record, none of the Papas support NNN in theory because what’s the sense in depriving yourself of pleasure?

That being said, I think they’d have a bit of fun with it in their own way if you were to ever bring it up . . .

Secondo, for example, is quite fond of edging. He wants to see how far and how long the both of you could work on the other before they absolutely, positively need to cum. You take turns — sometimes a night is dedicated to him, others to you. Sometimes the night is shared, taking turns as you build up wetness, he grows dizzy with all his blood being rerouted to his dick as it screams for your mercy…

Terzo is similar but he more so likes to make it a bit more like a game. A prolonged one. Says it builds up tension and makes The Big Release all the better. The focus is less about holding back to prove strength and more about holding back to build up the potency. It starts with “innocent” seduction in the form of peculiarly long, deep kisses goodbye as you both head off to your separate duties. Followed by extremely suggestive texts. Then blatant ones. If he’s permitted to sit with you during Black Mass, his hand is resting on your thigh, giving it gentle squeezes every so often…And so on until one of you snaps and y’all either lock yourselves in his room for three days or fuck in a broom closet as the appetizer.

And Copia? Cock ring. Cock cage if his clothing that day is less form-fitting. Which means his Cardinal and Papal robe days tended to see a bit more, ahem, cagey behavior. You quite like the key, wearing it like a necklace tucked under your shirt. You love your willing captive’s reactions even more when you know he sees you bending over to grab something you carelessly dropped. He’s always been such an ass man at the end of the day…

Idk that’s just my thought tho :/

[underskz]

➪ choi yeonjun x reader ✩ w.c ~900 — 18+ minors dni —

✰ DARLING LINE PARTY HOUSE AU

pov: party boy yeonjun is annoyingly tempting

note: tbh idk what this is i just opened tumblr drafts and started typing which is the most unhinged thing i've done in a long time,,, i blame this wholly on the darling line party house bc they’ve been just rotting my brain… i haven’t even skate ratified em i don’t know whats going on someone HELP ME

warnings: suggestive language..blatant to be exact, yeonjun is a player, alcohol, otherwise this is pretty tame for me lol.... nothing too spicy

"So, come here often?"

You bat away his hand before he can fully sling his arm around your shoulder, that famously smug grin of his tearing across his face when you try to side step away only to be blocked by a wall of people.

"You ask me that every single time, Yeonjun." You sigh, making a point to roll your eyes at him.

You tried not to make it a habit to attend the so called “darling line” parties, every single one just an excuse for the three hosts to charm pretty little clueless things into their respective beds— though you and half the population are well aware the rumors of them taking sharing is caring to a new level are very much true.

But the parties are admittedly fun, plenty of free booze, actual good music and a grossly impressive and spacious house since all three of them are even more grossly rich. Awful.

"And it works." He takes a swig straight out of the bottle of Hennessy he's been clutching in those lithe fingers. It's maddeningly hypnotizing, his adam's apple bobbing with each languid gulp.

"It quite literally, doesn't." You narrow your eyes at him.

“But it will, eventually.” He shrugs, that irritating smirk curling at his lips. And this shared haughtiness the three of them have is the worst part about any of it, Changbin being the most tolerable, more loud than anything, Wooyoung falls right in the middle and Yeonjun is…Yeonjun. “C’mon let loose a little, you never have any fun.”

“I just beat Changbin and Chan at pong, shotgunned a beer with Beomgyu and watched Mingi do a striptease for San. I’m having plenty of fun, you’re the issue.”

He stares at you, there’s flash of something that can only be described as devious in his eyes before offering you the bottle and even if the guy pisses you off you’d be a fool to say no.

And just as you try to grab it from him he pulls it back, wagging his finger in your face and clicking his tongue like he’s admonishing a child.

“Yeonjun.”

“Say ah!” You consider turning on your heel, chalking this down to being the final straw and going back to ignoring him for night. But the quirk in his brow is a blatant challenge, and there’s no way in hell you’ll let him win.

Hesitantly you tilt your head back, letting your lips part just enough. Before you can react his hand comes up, fingers gripping your cheeks and forcing you to open your mouth a little more.

He’s careful enough to pour the liquor right into your mouth, even though you half expect him to make a mess. The moment he pulls back you shove at him, trying your damndest to not let your face screw into something ugly as the bitter liquid crawls down your throat.

“Too bad I like it a little messier.” Yeonjun sighs, only spurring you to curl your lip at him.

He’s standing too close, trying to trap you into a corner so you’ll be forced to look at and pay attention to nothing else but him.

“Aw, is the undeniable sexual tension between us making that pretty little head spin?” He leans in, pouting when you dodge his hand coming up towards your face. You contemplate grabbing the bottle of liquor from his hands and making a proper break for it, deciding that anywhere else in this godforsaken house is better than here.

“You fucking wish.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I wish I was fucking you.” He takes another step forward.

“In your dreams Choi.” You try to map out an escape route.

“How did you know?”

“Don’t you have some drunken new target wandering around here you could bother instead?” The place was crawling with more than enough people willing to spread it for him, but he always has to make point to come bother you.

“Booooring!” There's a glimmer in his eye, something devious and tempting. “Dance with me, baby.”

That bit of alcohol muddling your brain almost has you agreeing, your teeth coming down on your tongue just hard enough to keep you from falling right into his hands.

“Nope! Oh look there’s Jisung, bye.” And just as you take a step he catches you by your waist, yanking you back so you’re pressed against him.

“You’re always running away from me.” His lips come up against the shell of your ear. “Scared you’ll fold?”

“As if, I just can’t stand you.” You helplessly try to pry his hands off of you, an irritated whine escaping you as he snakes his arms around your waist.

“Mm, nah, I think you like me, I think you want me so bad you don’t even know what to do with yourself.” His voice is low, forcing a warmth to spread across your cheeks and snake down into your belly. Helplessly you blame the alcohol, thankful that he can’t see whatever expression you’re making right now.

"Get bent." You grit out, forcing your elbow between his ribs and managing to escape his grasp.

"I'd rather be bending you over!" He calls out shamelessly after you, your only reply throwing the middle finger over your shoulder.

[ventique18]

- Not Malleus, sort of rant because of another game I'm playing -

I feel a massive, MASSIVE cringe when all of an otome game's cast is made entirely of rich, powerful, smart, handsome, godly perfect men who for some reason at the tender of 20 are already at the top of the world and the best in their fields. The only difference between them are some quirky personality tropes but remove that and they're basically dolls from the same mold. I know it's just blatant pandering for self-inserts and OC ships to drive revenue, but it feels like they're suggesting that regular people are unlovable. That somehow women (or people who like men) are incapable of being attracted to and caring for, idk, a guy who works as a teacher and makes the best of his regular life. A florist who names his bouquets after you. A cook who, though tired from work, would make delicious dishes to greet you when you come back home.

I know this sounds silly given my ultimate bias is exactly what I stated above, but in TWST, the rich powerful smart men are a minority. There are three guys out of 22 who are explicitly considered by the entire cast to be universally handsome. Most are just regular dudes trying to live their mundane lives. And I appreciate that. A lot of players appreciate that and love them for all their plainness and flaws.

Or idk maybe stepping out of my teenager years just completely changed me. But GOD I was waiting for some guy who has nothing much to give but his earnest love and kindness. 😭