#After shower thoughts

[lazylittledragon]

not to toot my own horn too loud or anything but i've showered 5/6 days so far this week and started running again and now i can kill god

[crunchyplastic]

ive been simmering like a pot of pasta sauce the whole day so let me post my rant about how you can't expect a thriving fandom without a thriving comment culture (or hell, even just a reblog culture)

[8um8le]

So I was like what if I gave Freddy Glamrock the Geo treatment, where the loveable dad persona was just a a character/act n during closing hours he’s always having some essential crisis

[epiclad]

"Miquella the Kind… is a monster. Pure and radiant, he wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men. There is nothing more terrifying." [Process vid]

[7-crows-in-a-trench-coat]

losing my mind rn thinking about how stan and ford, despite going down extremely different paths in life, ending up living similar lives completely separate of each other.

stan:

-got physically pushed out of his home

-was completely alone and unable to contact his family

-turned to a life of crime to survive

-after decades reunited with ford

-settled in gravity falls

-lived a seemingly good life in gravity falls while secretly building the portal

-reunited with ford after another three decades

while ford:

-settled in gravity falls

-lived a seemingly good life in gravity falls while secretly building the portal

-after decades reunited with stan

-got physically pushed out of his home

-was completely alone and unable to contact his family

-turned to a life of crime to survive

-reunited with stan after another three decades

[pistachionoodles]

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Giving Kafka Head

♡ NSFW, fem reader, oral->male receiving, face fucking, cum swallowing, mention of oral->fem receiving ♡

note: supposed to be doing a request right now, but the Kafka brainrot is too real so yeah lol

note 2: Sza was right when she said "I need a big boy" 😮‍💨

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It's quite obvious that Kafka gives the best head of any of your previous partners, especially when he's in his Kaiju form and uses his long tongue to explore every inch of your cunt. And he wouldn't hesitate to say that you give amazing head, he'd go as far as to say it's the best feeling he's ever felt in his life. The way your soft lips wrap around his girthy tip, tongue teasing it as you devour him whole. He's practically in heaven when he's in your mouth, and he's very vocal about it.

"F-fuck baby, just like that...your tongue feels so good, so fucking warm. Relax that pretty little throat for me, can you do that?"

His large hands cupped your face gently as he pushed further into your throat, slowly fucking your face. You had been at for less than an hour, yet you were an absolute mess. There were tear stains on your cheeks and a mix of drool and precum running down your chin from his fat dick stretching your mouth out. But you were determined to please him, speeding up your head bobs to match his thrusts and inadvertently gagging on his cock.

"Fuck, baby don't gag...just relax f'me and take it slow alright? Don't want you choking."

Despite his concern, he couldn't deny how sexy you looked, all needy and gagging on him. It made his dick twitch in the worst way and it didn't go unnoticed by you. He gripped your hair tightly as he felt you continue your fast movements, pulling your head slightly so he could look into your half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. You just looked so beautiful, so perfect for him. Who was he to deny what you were doing?

To deny the pleasure that you wanted to give him, the pleasure that only you could give him. He grunted softly, placing his rough hand on the back of your head and pushing your head as far down on his cock as possible, relishing in the way you gagged on him. His dick throbbed and twitched in your mouth as he came, shooting his warm load down your inviting throat and smirking when he felt you swallow.

He pulled out of your mouth, patting your head as you coughed and wiped your face with the back of your hand. His hand moved to your face, caressing it softly before tilting your chin up so he could look at you.

"You did so damn good f'me baby,"

His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, before slipping in your mouth and rubbing your soft, wet tongue.

"Think you can handle a little more?"

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx

[letlionslie]

i love how chris is such a bad communicator that his sister ends up tracking him across an ocean because his silly ass can’t check his email or send a postcard…

… but apparently leon checks his email so religiously that claire knows she can just fire one off to him and within a matter of hours leon will track down her deadbeat brother and send him to pick her up from secret umbrella prison island.

[ohimsummer]

Suguru takes care of you in a very corruptive way. Does this make sense

[paperwayne]

crash.

Pairing: Spiderverse!Hobie Brown | Spider-Punk x Reader / Spiderverse!Gwen Stacy & Reader Word Count: 1,957 words Warnings: None

It is two o’clock in the morning, and you’re lying upside-down on the stony couch that’s still lopsided despite your attempts to correct it with a stack of cut-up magazines underneath the broken leg when Hobie finally comes back, grimy, sweaty, and with an equally grimy and sweaty girl in tow.

Hobie casts you a glance and raises an eyebrow, unshouldering his guitar and kicking off his shoes as you swing your legs over to sit right-side up.

“Sirens again?” he says.

You shrug. “Yeah.”

“Should be used to them by now.”

“Should be used to a totalitarian regime by now,” you say.

Hobie’s mouth curls into a smirk. He turns to the girl trailing behind him and nods. “This’s Gwen. She’s crashing here for the night.”

“Hey,” says Gwen. She gives you a small smile that screams of exhaustion. “Nice to meet you …?”

You give Gwen your name and a perfunctory once-over. It’s impossible to ignore the unusual colors of her clothes, and the softness of her face looks like it’s due to more than just her age. She almost looks like a pastel painting, and against the sharp and peeling backdrop of Hobie’s bedsit, the difference in appearance is like night and day. She’s strange. Out of place.

You grin at her as Hobie takes the air mattress out from underneath his bed and starts to inflate it.

“You eaten yet, luv?” you ask over the sound of the air pump.

She blinks. “Oh. Uh, not really. But I’m not that hungry, actually –”

On cue, her stomach growls. She blushes.

You shake your head and stand up, slinging an arm around her shoulders to guide her to the kitchen.

“Rule number two of crashing at Hobie’s,” you start, throwing the fridge door open dramatically so the bottles inside knock and clink together, “don’t act like you’re a burden. You’re family here, not a guest. Cuppa?”

“Cu – oh. Tea. Sure?” Gwen takes the leftover box of curry from your outstretched hand and lingers as you go about setting up the kettle. “What’s the first rule?”

“Third rule,” you continue, smugly catching Hobie shake his head as you do so, “is reject the establishment. Fourth rule is don’t be a sellout. Fifth rule is to clean up after yourself.” You take the food back from Gwen to dump it onto a plate from the dish rack, then gesture for her to place it into the microwave. “And the first rule …”

“Yeah?”

“… is screw the rules,” Hobie finishes from his seat on the ground, “whenever they go against what you stand for.”

“And you seem the type to stand for cleaning up after yourself, yeah?” you add.

Gwen huffs out a little chuckle, and the microwave beeps behind her. You hand her a spoon after she takes the curry out, and when she scoops up a bit to taste it, her eyes widen. She hardly swallows before taking a full and proper bite.

“Holy crap. This is amazing.”

“Brought some back from Karl’s. Good friend of ours.” You lean against the counter, gaze falling on Hobie once more when he turns off the air pump and stands up, long and lanky frame unfurling to his full height. “Speaking of, I’ll catch you up on what you missed during tonight’s rehearsal.”

“Okay,” Hobie replies.

You stare at him pensively, then nod.

While he gathers some blankets and extra pillows, you make small talk with Gwen, who clears her plate and drains her cup of tea. She’s rather cagey about where she’s from, other than the obvious fact that she’s from America. More than once, she glances furtively at Hobie, as if wondering if she should say a certain thing to you or not. Makes the gears in your head turn.

You like Gwen, though. Got a good head on her shoulders. (And she’s a drummer, too. The band needs a drummer.)

Once Hobie shows her the bathroom so she can shower, you fix your full attention onto the man as he pours himself a cup of tea beside you.

“She’s in that Spider Society you joined a few months ago,” you guess.

Hobie takes a long sip. “She’s a new recruit,” he explains afterwards. “On the run from her own universe. Bad luck, innit?”

“Gwen Stacys must have bad luck in every universe.” You cross your arms and your ankles, feeling the warmth of his body as his arm brushes yours. “Ain’t much safer for her here.”

“I know.”

“I thought you were almost ready to quit the Society.”

“I was.”

You narrow your eyes.

“Was?”

Hobie rests his elbows on the counter behind him. “Gwen ought to have somebody on her side out there,” he mutters.

“And we need you on our side right here, Hobie,” you say sharply, something sour starting to bleed into your tone. “Your ‘one hundred percent’ – your words. You don’t need to play pawn in some authoritarian establishment. Neither does Gwen. She can stay here with us, can’t she?”

“Not without a watch to keep her intact.” Hobie looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “And I ain’t tellin’ her what to do, yeah?”

“I’m not saying you should, Hobie. But I –"

You clamp your mouth shut and bite your tongue before you say something you’ll regret saying and he’ll regret hearing.

“I’m – we’re not used to you not being here all the time,” you finish lamely. Both of you are equally stubborn, and you don’t want to argue over a part of Hobie’s life that you can never fully know. “I just worry, s’all.”

Hobie contemplates your words. He tilts his head back to drink the rest of his tea, and you watch his throat as he swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

After a long moment, he sighs and scratches his jaw. “I know,” he replies plainly. “I’m quitting as soon as the opportunity arises. But Gwen should have an out too if she wants it.”

You nod your agreement, though you cross your arms more tightly, feeling the sharp pang of guilt that comes with being jealous. No reason to be, you reprimand the scared and angry little kid inside your head. This is who Hobie is. He looks after people who don’t have anyone else. Like Gwen. Like you, all those years ago.

There wasn’t a time when Hobie hadn’t been in your corner. And it wasn’t until your mid-teens that you realized he might not always be there, trusting you to be strong enough to fight and protect while he goes off to rescue people from monsters bigger than yours.

Hobie had always been the more responsible one out of the two of you.

(With great power comes great responsibility.)

It takes a moment before you realize that Hobie has moved.

“Oi.” His voice is soft, and so are his hands on your shoulders as you startle at him standing before you so suddenly. His dark gaze bores into yours. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

About you. Always about you.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. “Sleeping. Spidey blokes like you are exhausting.”

Hobie regards you carefully, because he knows you well enough to see through all your deflecting jabs. But he just chuckles and releases your shoulders to pinch your cheek gently. “Comes with the bite, treacle. Mattress is all ready. I’ll join you on it after I clean up, yeah?”

“All right.”

The door creaks open, and the two of you turn your attention onto Gwen as she shuffles back into the room. Hobie pats your cheek and heads off to shower as promised.

“Bed’s all yours for the night,” you tell Gwen, going over to sit crisscross on the air mattress while she dries her hair.

“Are you sure? I’m fine with sleeping on the mattress. Or the couch.”

“Positive.”

“Okay. Well, thank you,” Gwen replies genuinely, sitting on the bed. “Seriously. It’s”—her voice cracks almost imperceptibly—“it’s been a while since … um. Well. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Any friend of Hobie’s is a friend of mine.”

She smiles, fiddling with the towel in her lap. “You must be real close, huh?”

“I’d kill for him, honestly,” you admit. “Probably wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for Hobes.”

“For someone who says he’s not a hero, he sure does a lot of saving.”

“That’s what I tell him. Drives him batty.” You fall onto your back, arms and legs spread out. Your grin fades. You wonder if you should say it, but then you do anyway. “He’s amazing. I wish I was as strong as him, you know? Can’t keep up with him sometimes.”

The words hardly leave your mouth before you feel that Gwen’s whole body has suddenly gone very still.

“… Gwen?” You prop yourself up. “You alright?”

“Don’t compare yourself to him,” she says quietly but fiercely. “You have your own strengths.”

You blink. “Of course I do,” you reply, surprised by her abruptness, “but the fact still stands. Normal people like me tend to drag people like you and Hobie down during the action, yeah?”

“No.” Gwen leans over, and you see her face again. Her expression is tight and her eyes blaze. “I know that you’ve never been a burden to him. You’ll always be more than enough.”

“… Oh.”

Her words make you feel almost embarrassed for even having those thoughts. But it’s also touching in its own way, and impressive, and you smile at her for being so kind.

“If that’s what you truly think, Gwen Stacy, then I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur.

She bites her lip and nods, sitting back.

A few minutes later, just as Gwen finishes brushing her teeth, Hobie comes back from his shower looking like the walking dead. You roll onto your side to watch him all but drag himself over to the sink to brush his teeth as well.

Gwen studies Hobie and then looks at you, and the confusion on her face causes you to cackle.

“What you laughin’ at?” Hobie mumbles around his toothbrush, eyes half-lidded as he squints at you.

“You, bested by a hot shower.”

He grunts and spits into the sink, rinsing out his mouth.

In true Hobie-fashion, he doggedly goes through the motions of his usual nighttime routine before making his way over to the air mattress. You help him put his hair up and into his bonnet because he’s already nodding off, and only then does he collapse face first into his pillow, grumbling something about being cream-crackered.

Gwen silently turns off the bedside lamp and gets comfortable on the bed. You wrestle the blankets out from underneath Hobie and lay them over the two of you, hoping that you’re not acting as flustered as you feel.

You try to think of how he might swing his arm into your face while you sleep (he might), or how his breathing might be too loud (it isn’t). You try to think about how the blankets tend to get all twisted up when he dreams because he moves around, and how annoyed you should be when morning comes and you’re tangled up in a mass of long limbs and coiled sheets.

But right now, the blankets are perfectly in place, and underneath them, Hobie curls an arm around you and tugs you close. He mumbles something – at least, you think he does – and all you think about is how warm he is.

As Hobie’s breaths even out against your neck, slow and deep, your throat itches with words you’ll never say aloud.

So you reach up, place your hand over his, and close your eyes instead.

[princyvish]

WOE KOBYLU MARRIAGE BE UPON YE!! I'm normal about them

They would get married to this song trust

[stacytea]

[camellcat]

I've seen a lot of people say that they believe spike did actually deserve to be praised for not eating anyone at the bronze when they were already dead, that buffy was being too harsh and mean to him, and I vehemently disagree

spike says it himself: she treats him like a man. she expects him to act like a man. when he fails to uphold those expectations, she's disappointed and disgusted by him. if she were to praise him, I think that would undermine what she's doing entirely. it also gives spike an easy out so he doesn't have to try nearly as hard to be seen as better

not to say perhaps the way she treats him his fair, because he isn't a human so it's not really, but to tell him good on not sampling the corpses she's stopped treating him like one of her people and instead just the pet vampire he is to them

if she wants him to be a man, she absolutely has to treat him like he already is one, or he'll never properly grow into someone more and instead stay stagnate as only barely not evil for her

[willowser]

for whatever reason, you're there after the war. for touya—not dabi.

once he's moved out of the hustle and bustle of the city and to an intimate little place, somewhere a bit quieter. with his family, of course, as his entire being just—heals. he's given the time and the space and the patience that he needs, but it's not easy. almost feels like it's never going to be.

he comes and goes in waves; thunderous and loud and all consuming, another crash upon the shore. in anger and pain, in fear and hatred, with a kind of madness that you could never hope to understand.

and then sometimes, he is quiet. when you help change the wrappings on his body or when you offer the help of an arm he doesn't have or when you just sit with him, fully clothed, underneath the ice cold spray of the shower.

in these moments, it's almost like he's been gutted, like everything he had inside was scooped out—and it sounds like it should be terrible. but touya watches the carefulness to your hands and how you tie his shoes and lets you rest your head on his shoulder when you're sitting side-by-side in the tub, because he's still as warm as he's always been.

and you think maybe it isn't so bad that all that was removed, when they sewed him back together; all the anger and pain, the fear and hatred, the madness that's nowhere to be seen in those bright and clear eyes of his.

without all that in the way, you hope—you all do—that something new will grow it its place.

[spindlewoed]

["Homo-sexual underground" internalized]

NEW TASK: Talk to the smoker again (optional)

***

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Hello there, Gendarme.” The man offers you another one of his honeyed smiles, “I have to say, something feels different about you. Are you done with your twenty-hour mind project?”

As a matter of fact, I am.

Not really, I’d like to talk about something else.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyebrows rise minutely, “*Beautiful*. And what was your conclusion, if I may ask?”

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — He’s genuinely curious. 

It helped me have a little bonding moment with my case partner over here (point to Kim).

A waste of eight hours of my time. Don't think I gained anything from it. On multiple levels.

It was a very immersive thought process, very educational. I feel closer to the plight of the underground community now. I think you guys should form some sort of union.

I’m really not sure…

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant gives you a stern look before you can say more.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] — It is not your place to disclose my personal information, *officer*.

YOU — shut your mouth instantly.

It helped me have a little bonding moment with my case partner over here (point to Kim).

A waste of eight hours of my time. Don't think I gained anything from it. On multiple levels.

It was a very immersive thought process, very educational. I feel closer to the plight of the underground community now. I think you should form some sort of union.

I’m really not sure…

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He hums, contemplative. “Well of course. A measly day wouldn’t be enough time to comprehend the scope and grandeur of the *homo-sexual underground*, obviously.” He smiles again, his heart shaped lips almost breaking into a grin.

“But do tell, Gendarme. Indulge me. Have you thought about where you stand on the matter?” 

Couldn’t be me. I'm not one of those.

I’ve stopped obsessing over my sexuality, I’m afraid there’s no going back to thinking about it. That would be another eight hour project. Twelve if I’m honest.

[Electrochemistry - Heoric 15] Look for clues in your past. Try to remember.

[CHECK SUCCESS]

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Looking like a dust covered film, your memory slowly unravels in your mind. A young man, just like yourself. He’s taller than you by an inch or so. Slightly muscular, round figure. Kind eyes. An explosion of electricity travels all over your body as he places a casual hand on your lower back. No one else in the room seems to notice. Later, you’re in the janitor's closet, and small talk concerning your shared students turns into hit after hit of oxytocin as he kisses you. You don’t remember his name.

YOU — “Does it count if it was once, in a closet?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyes widen then he laughs, suddenly and openly.

DRAMA [Medium: Success] — He’s only making fun of you a *little* this time, sire. He's positively *delighted*.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Forgive me, gendarme. It’s always a pleasure talking to you." He composes himself, leaning back against the bricks. "But to answer your question - yes. I believe it counts.”

No, there’s no way. Forget I said anything.

Ok…

SMOKER IN THE BALCONY — He nods, waiting for you to reach a conclusion.

YOU — "Ok. But that was the past. How do I know that this is me, now?"

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He takes a drag of his cigarette while studying your face. As he exhales, his smile returns to his face like it never left.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] — He smiles a lot when you're talking to him. It’s a warm, smooth shot of dopamine every time.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “That’s up to you to figure out." He flicks the ash off his cigarette with his slender fingers. He adds, lightly: “But feel free to give me a call once you do, officer.” He winks.

Oho?

Uhu?

Ogh?

[Savoir Faire - Godly 16] Try to come up with something a little bit more eloquent.

[CHECK FAILURE]

YOU — (whisper) "Awooga…"

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Pardon?”

KIM KITSURAGI — "Detective," the lieutenant interjects mercifully, "perhaps it's best we get back to the case, yes?"

YOU — "Yeah, I gotta go. See you. I mean, yeah. Bye."

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He chuckles, waving his fingers goodbye. “See you around, Gendarmerie.”