#I JUST FUCKIN LOVE HIM SO MUCH AAAAAA... ;_;

[64sue]

my baby on the pit wall 🤭🍊🧡

[osachiyo]

love, love, what do you think about a reader who has really thick thighs :0 how would the bsd men react to it >:0 I feel like Nikolai/Dazai would like to force the reader to sit on their face lol (it’s a thirst just in case!!)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ note. . . AAAAAA this ask made me so insane tysm for this nonnie. . . (mdni) not proofread sorry im a lazy fuck </3

dazai would love them, maybe so much so that its a little concerning— only a little though ! he'd lovee to lay his head on your plush thighs, whining for you to sing him to sleep— its the only way he can get some rest, y'know? he already loves your thighs so much but if you like wearing booty shorts, tights or even stockings? this man is a goner. just a heads up though, they're gonna be ripped to shreds by the time he's done with you. and no, he's not gonna buy you new ones (he's too broke ya'll)

he's definitely gonna beg you to sit on his face— at least do it once for him, won't you? oh but when you actually give in, he's so fucking happy he could basically die. he'd even say it to you— pretty brown lashes fluttering as he slurs out muffled words like— "god, bella. i could just— could just suffocate between these thighs," and if you know him, you know he's being dead serious. but you can't bring yourself to complain when he's practically making out with your pussy so fuckin' good, making you drool and sputter your words as he runs his tongue up and down your slick folds. filthy slurping noises escaping his lips while his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs— they're definitely gonna bruise later..♡

chuuya would find them adorable. he just loves to bury his face between them. not even in a dirty or suggestive way— he just found it so comforting, y'know? but also would be downright mesmerized by the way your thighs jiggle and spill out of your tights— blood rushing to his face and he can't help but sneak a couple glances at your plump thighs. shit, did they look good but he just wanted to rip them off as soon as possible.

and rip them off he did— blunt nails easily ripping the fabric of your mesh tights as he continues lapping at your soaked cunt. he only chuckled when you gasped and whined about how those were your last pair! he'd peak his head from between your spread thighs— tongue running over his swollen lips and god, did he look like a total fucking mess. his eyes were glazed over with pure lust and love for you— twinkling with delight as you moaned and clutched onto the bedframe, holding on for dear life as chuuya ate you out like a fucking animal. a sloppy grin graced his features, hand moving from your thigh to reach between your legs— pushing two gloved fingers in with ease. "relax, doll. I'll buy you all the tights you need. jus' lemme enjoy my fuckin' meal." and with that, he dived right back in..♡

fyodor found the contrast between your body and his own adorable. he was tall, lanky and slim. you, on the otherhand, were plush, soft and just....so enticing to him. he loved each and every part of your body, of course but your thighs— god, your thighs. he'd love to just bury his face between them and stay there for hours. not that he'd ever admit it, though. his pride wouldn't allow it. that doesn't mean he wouldn't show his adoration for them in a...different way, of course.

he'd lay you down gently on your shared bed, kissing every part of your body from head to those delicious thighs of yours. and after he's finally done— he'd press them together before sliding his cock in between. what? why're you looking at him with those pitiful eyes of yours? what better way to showcase his love for your plush thighs than to fuck them, no? he'd shudder at the way the flushed head of his pretty cock would catch against your clit with every drag of his hips. he'd only laugh cruelly at your whining and begging for him to just put it in! oh well, he's not stopping anytime soon until he gets to cum all over your pussy and those pretty thighs of yours so..goodluck..♡

nikolai would just.. keep his hands on you all the damn time. i mean, how could he not? when you're practically asking him for it! that's why you decided to wear those tight stockings, didn't you? to show off your mouth-watering thighs to the world? he just couldn't keep his eyes off them the entire fucking day. the way the fabric clung and dug into the meat of your thighs and fuck. how could he not get rock hard?

and that's how you ended up seated on his pretty fuckin' face. eager tongue exploring your insides as guttural groans and growls left his parted lips. he was soaked— head getting squeezed by your thighs and he could almost cum from the feeling. his hands were also busy— occasionally slapping and pinching the soft fat on your thighs and snickering at your high pitched squeals. he'd also lift you a little by grabbing the back of your thighs just to look at you with those drunk-dazed eyes. and fuck, he was practically pussy drunk. he wasn't at fault though! it's all your fault for having such nice fucking thighs..♡

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

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[samaraxmorgan]

I got my four Sukuna commissions from @salsakiyoomi and need to gush about them <3 Her comms are still open and u can find more info to commission her here!!!

Tragically Beautiful: the concept of soulmates, follows sukuna falling for you in heian era and then you die tragically, only for him to find you centuries later, in modern time, and he recognizes you because how could he forget those beautiful eyes of yours?

This fic broke me and then put me back together; SO SWEET showing how we slowly fell for each other in the Heian period (and the first kiss in this was SO ROMANTIC AAAAA) , and then SO HEARTBREAKING seeing him go through the grief of losing the only person he’s ever loved. He’s written so well and so in character with (of course) slaughtering the ones responsible for our death, but also not being willing to give up on his soulmate and being determined to find us again now matter how long it takes </3 IT HURTS SO GOOD!!! And the reunion is so cute, had me smiling at my phone like an idiot asksksksk

The Things We Are: break up with sukuna because he messed up but then he comes to you one night, drunk and begging for forgiveness and against your better judgement you take him back

I LOVED this, I’m such a sucker for modern au <3 I love that he’s so flawed and constantly trying to keep his walls up, and how insanely hard he crashed when he got drunk. LITERALLY begging on his knees STOP IT I LOVE ITT!!! I’m sure once he’s sober he’ll be internally cringing at himself for it, but I love how vulnerable he is in this :) I KNOWW he’s so toxic BUT!! I am more than willing to deal with toxic when it’s from him hehe

Infatuated: heian era! sukuna coming home injured after battle, heading straight to you for comfort and help, even though you're supposedly nothing but a mere concubine to him

THIS WAS SO SWEET!! Taking care of him and tending to his wounds after a battle UGH I am so weak for that… and how he only feels comfortable with us seeing him injured and will immediately kill anyone else who sees him vulnerable (He’s so dramatic for that ASKAKSK I adore him)!! And him hating how we call him “my lord” but being too stubborn to just tell us to call him by his first name is SO HIM!! And the kiss at the end is so intimate and passionate EEEE I am weak in the knees I love him so much <3

Falling: arranged marriage with sukuna, it's a political arrangement but he slowly finds himself falling for you

ENEMIES TO LOVERS MY BELOVED!!! I absolutely adore how he was such an asshole at first just to do a TOTAL 180 and become completely whipped >:) Him having a creepy scary grin during the wedding just to be at a loss for words later when he realizes he (god forbid) has feelings AAAAAA!!! I love it I just fuckin love when he’s in denial about his feelings it’s so GOOOOOD!!! Thinking he’s incapable of love but then falling headfirst into it and not even trying to look back yES!!!

[adarkpastandbrightfuture]

OTPs and nOTPs for Silver?

OTPs for Silver

Silvaze - its adorable, sure its the pick most go with but its CUTE!! They compliment eachother well, and its the ‘strong woman + strong man’ duo, bc i refuse to believe silvers a sack of meat to lug around like a softie, hes strong like her. I love how they are as characters and in a relationship

Metilver - Again, another ship linings has hooked me on, metal makes him sm worse and its hilariously adorable to me, i love them so much they are hilariously perfect for eachother imo.

Sonilver - like i said on the sonic blog, they are ADORABLE and compliment eachother well and would get up to sm shit i just love their dynamic, i wanna squish them like stress toys and allat shit because aaaaAA i want them to love eachother /silly

Mephilver - listen this is sorta new to me but after looking at art and such im finding it rlly cute, sonic doesn’t wanna fucking help mephiles and iblis so silver fuckin will just HEAR ME OUT DUDE IMAGINE HOW CUTE THEY’D BE IF THEY MADE UP FOR THE WHOLE SONIC 06 THING.

nOTPs

I dont really have any for silver, i like most and havent found any i genuinely dont enjoy, so uh, yeah

[bonnieisaway]

A really good detail in Scissor Seven that I think not only is really good for world building but also gives the viewer a bit of a hint as to when shit is going down is the way they introduce other assassins, targets, or people trying to kill Seven.

Honest to Christ, can anyone tell me the names of the underpants guy or the bdsm grandma woman. The answer is probably not. I don't think they even have official names but they've been reoccurring characters in the background since season 1. And I think it's really cool they don't have names that are really talked about! Chicken Island is not that small and I think it's a good detail that while Seven knows a lot of people, he doesn't know them all well but regardless they fill his daily life and he cares for them just as much for their mere presence alone. But also in the episodes where they were targets, it's a good detail that they're hardly really named, it's just like, "my son" or "that guy over there" because in the grander scheme of things they pose no threat and they're just some fucking guy.

But on the flip side of this: there is damn near a whole catalogue of characters who were introduced by a name or title and got like, ten seconds of screen time! The entire time Seven is getting chased:

I mean, none of these five say a fucking word and never are talked about again! But they all have such detailed and gorgeous designs and unique and powerful fighting styles that are distinctively theirs. Not a single other character wields the weapon Wusheng does, Single Blade is just fucking cool and I cannot believe they designed and made such a stellar fucking fighting style for a two minute long chase scene, Li Hua is just fucking gorgeous and I love the way she cooperates with the others, and we never see them again! But it's also such a good detail that we don't! We don't need to! Obviously, anyone with a weapon that Seven passes in this point of time is going to pose a danger to him. But for the viewer, there's a significant difference than going "Oh fuck, who's this guy?" and going "OH FUCK, BEHEADING WUSHENG??????" It takes it a step further to illustrate them as these powerful and terrifying threats, and it doesn't even list their rankings on the list, cause what does that fucking matter? Look at them! They're fucking terrifying! I am going to instantly assume a motherfucker named Nightcrawler is fairly high on the list!!

And it's such a good, stark contrast from the other characters I mentioned who were arguably about as powerful or outsmarted Seven at the time but they were justifiably just some fuckin guy that wasn't meant to be intimidating at first sight because it was meant to be a shock and a little funny they overpowered him. And even after they did overpower him they were still just some dude who's there and that's so cool and it's not only such good worldbuilding and detail but it blends the difference between what being powerful meant on Chicken Island and for the current Seven and what being powerful means in Xuanwu and for who Seven used to be. I mean, look at these fucking five! These are five out of every damn killer in the nation chasing him! Imagine what the fuck else is there!

And this dude is such a perfect balance between the two as well - I mean, he's still arguably a threat, but he's unnamed and his outfit isn't as flashy as the others, but he still holds this significance and weight the others didn't because he had a memory of Seven he described. He's still obviously terrified and not that powerful, yet a threat and important!! I just!! It is so cool the way they introduce characters and present them to us!! Aaaaaa!!!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Aaaaaa S, i'm having thought about boypussy Steve all of the sudden. Imagine how squirmy he'll be— imagine how drippy baby boy will be. I've never really seen any boypussy Steve stuff before but Goddamn am i having thoughts.

Imagine just— getting his pussy really fucked for the first time. He'd be fuckin' panting and whining cause it's so good that he doesn't even have to massage his own clit to get more stimulation. He wants it full. He wants it rough. He wants to feel his stomach pooching out juuust a little from the length of Bucky's cock. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Pussy 👏🏻 Steve👏🏻

Jesus Christ, I really need to write something for him 😮‍💨😫 pussy Buck has gotten love and his other half Steve needs some, too. If not together, then, just, both existing in the ether.

I have found a very few things for pussy Steve, but yeah, it's not much. There's this post, this one, and then this one on my blog (with AO3 links).

Your thoughts, though...

I--

I don't think I can handle pussy Steve who likes it, who needs it, rough. 🥴😮‍💨

I'm imagining this as pre-serum, spitfire Steve, B-U-T I can absolutely see parts of it as post-serum Steve, too. So, we have to discuss both. Naturally.

Okay, little Steve first...

He's vehement about it being rough. He pushes and shoves and scratches and hisses until Bucky gives it to him like he's trying to break him. There's nothing that makes him wetter than getting it hard, fucked good until he can see the bulge of Bucky's cock through the pale skin of his flat tummy--until he can feel it underneath his trembling palm. He squirms and blushes and gets sweet when Bucky finally gets him there, swearing at him for being a son of a bitch and a stubborn shit, giving it to him like he hates him, so deep inside him. Then, Steve stops arching back, stops fucking himself back on Bucky's dick, and starts shaking, squirming, almost like his body is trying to get him away from it, it's too much. But, also, he will wail if Bucky dares to try and stop.

Second, big, big Steve...

Post-serum Steve likes it rough, still, except after the serum... he can't handle it rough. Really, he doesn't like it slow. It's just not what scratches the primal desires inside him. It doesn't unwind the aching arousal inside him in the same way. But. After the serum, he's so sensitive and just the slowest, smoothest slide of Bucky's cock inside his dripping pussy leaves his toes curling, hands balling into fists, and his eyes rolling back into his head. He gets so wet. He can't help it. He's so easy. He likes it when Bucky goes rough and fast, even if it makes him scream through gritted teeth. Absolutely, though, he can't handle it if Bucky touches his clit. It makes him shatter. He likes it. He hates it. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to recover from the head-spinning pleasure. Too much. Too rough. Everything he needs.

Jesus 😮‍💨😮‍💨

[stars-n-spice]

Thoughts on s3 Ep06!

Going to make this quick and will probably be shorter than others because I have fuck awful memory and even though I literally just saw the episode, I watched episode 7 right after and so that's fresher in my mind bUT

Spoilers under cut-

As always, these are not coherent thoughts or in any order of the episode and what happened in it

CHUCHI MY BELOVED MY QUEEN I WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE HER AGAIN!!

And I was surprised to see the Raxus Senator again, it really does seem like they're trying to tie up all the loose ends so now I wouldn't be surprised if that Bennie (?) kid shows up again or something

Felt like a fucking clown when I was like "Oh that's Tech, that's so Tech" the entire time during the beginning of the episode only for it to not be Tech

Howzer <3

I completely forgot about what happened between Howzer and Crosshair on Ryloth so I was like,, "Why the fuck is Howzer being so aggressive?? I don't remember Howzer being so aggressive??" and then I was like, "oh yeah,, nvm-"

I just keep loving Crosshair more and more with every episode,, Force help me

OMEGA MIMICKING CROSSHAIR WITH THE TOOTHPICK?!?!? SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!

Captain Rex my beloved <3

He looks so funny without his pauldron thingy

ALSO

I could nOT sit still the entire time I was watching these episodes,, I was watching it like how Asian dads watch TV,, like right up in front of the tv and whatnot

It was also because it was dark as fuck and I couldn't see SHIT because my tv kinda sucks but I was standing for pretty much the entire time

Then when Wrecker appeared I fell to my knees

I'm going to be thinking about him petting Batcher for a long time-

OKAY BUT WHEN HUNTER SAW OMEGA MIMICKING CROSSHAIR AND HE HAD THE FAINTEST SMILE ON TOP OF THAT LOOK OF CONFUSION??

Also I love Echo so so so so much,, when he gave her that modified crossbow and told her to keep the others in check?? :(( mom,,

"they don't look happy to see us...just like old times huh?" WRECKER omfg,,

also that clone assassin is so tech right?? like,, that's Tech yeah?? even with the voice thingy he sounds like Crosshair kinda and in the previous episode Crosshair had a moment where he sounded like Tech so like,, that's GOTTA be him

Aaaa,, when Howzer starting coming for Crosshair and Wrecker looked about ready to square up in the background,, and then Hunter defending Cross later, ack ack ackk

CONFIRMATION THAT CROSS WENT THROUGH WITH THAT TRAINING BUT HE'S TOO "SEVERE AND UNYIELDING" SO IT DIDN'T WORK AAAA

at that point i'm kinda surprised they kept him alive?? but still-

i really thought Rex might know what 'M-count' was when Omega mentioned it since he was around Jedi but I guess not??

that entire conversation I was chanting, "Talk to Ahsoka, talk to Ahsoka, talk to Ahsoka"

dude when the fucking,, when (i'm going to call him Tech) when Tech just fucking SNUCK in and was like RIGHT there,,

FUCK that entire,, ugh when he called to report he found Omega I was just like,, "Oh they fucked up so badly. So badly"

EVERY EPISODE HAS ME FUCKING TERRIFIED ABOUT OMEGA BEING TAKEN AWAY AGAIN

the,, the conversation between Crosshair and the clone assassin,,

Cross,,, dude,, what,, what are you hiding man?

Fireball :(((((((((

UGHH

then Tech got fucking crushed by all those rocks and I was like,, "Okay, so maybe he ISN'T tech," but then,, fucking episode 7 changed that-

ALSO ALSO!! SHOWING THE CLONE BASE,, WITH THE FUCKIN,,, WITH THE FUCKING CLONE THEME IN THE BACKGROUND AGUUGHHHEHEUUHHHGHHH

AND THEN WOLFFE AT THE END??? THANK THE FUCKING FORCE THIS WAS A TWO EPISODE RELEASE DAY FUCK

OH MY GOD I MISSED YOU COMMANDER

FUCKING

AAAAAA

anyways,,

im so normal about this show :)

[stoopid-noah]

Watching The Crowded Room and going in completely blind..

Haven't seen a trailer, no idea what it's even about lol

Here are my thoughts as I move along..

After watching Ep 1, I think:

Danny and his brother where SAed as children, maybe by the stepdad.

Ariana is a sex worker?

His brother either died due to abuse or offed himself because of it.

Ep 2:

Ariana was sexually abused too, I think.

Danny might have Multiple personalities and seems to be unaware about it.

Some charracters might actually be part of his system?

Is the "ghost house" actually his mindspace?

Ep 3:

Yup, multiple personalities!

Yitzhak is definitely one of them!

Jonny probably too & if he is, so must Mike.

Ariana might be aswell, maybe she's his sexual protector & SA trauma holder.

Did he ever have a twin brother, or was he also part of the system?

I love Yitzhak, best protected ever!!

I think Rya, the psychiatrist might suspect him having DiD, but isn't sure yet & the police has no idea.

But how did eye witnesses see Ariana?!

Ep 4:

I think Jack is also part of Danny's system.

Jack seems to be a protector aswell.

I can't tell if his brother was another alter or his actual brother?

All the drawings in his (burned) sketchbook might be of alters.

Oooooo shits 'bout to go down!!

Ep 5:

Gee, straight to the intro, no little scene before that? Is that a good sign or a bad one?

I really hope his mother didn't know what her children where going through.

I love Mario, he's cool!

I feel so sorry for his mom (Candy?)  too, she just wanted the best for her baby.. :(

I think Adam was his first protector & trauma holder, not his actual brother.

Ep 6:

I hate how the police officer is talking about poor Danny. :(

I hate the psychiatrists son, he's a brat and a nuisance lol

Hell yeah Jonny, get right outa those cuffs!!

God, I love this woman.. she's an amazing doctor and I NEED her to succeed!!

Why do I kinda like his lawyer?! He's such an asshole lmao

Oh, Danny.. My poor baby.. He's so scared :(

Ep 7:

Yayy, Yitzhak is back!!

Jack, Jonny, Mike, Yitzhak and Ariana confirmed alters, yay!!

Goddam Jonny... At least try to keep it together man >:(

These "psychologists" are so insufferable.. and so is the judge..

I love Yitzhak so much.. please don't let him be gone gone AAaAaa <3

Oh god.. please help him, poor puppy boy :(

Ep 8:

GET OFF MY SVREEN YOU FUCKIN PEDOPHILE PIG PIECE OF SHIT!!

I hope Marlin rots in hell, fucking piece of shit.

I love the directive so much!!

Candy, how could you? How could she cover for that piece of shit?

Oh, I feel bad for Arianas boyfriend.. and for Ariana :(

Why should they try to "get rid of the alters"?? I know that this plays in a different time, but it's so frustrating that the alters aren't really seen as whole ass human beings by the professionals.. :(

Jerome is so sweet and kind, I cant- I want them to be friends forever AAaAaa

If that boy doesn't get the help he needs, I'm going to scream...

Ep 9:

I hate him. I hate Marlin so much.. why do I have to look at him right now?!

How can candy live with herself, protecting this pig????

I hope she fucking turns around and stands up for Danny in the end :(

Stan is such a good guy, I hope he's a great lawyer too.

I hate it.. D.I.D. is real for fucks sake.

The trial just started and  I'm already crying..

I'm starting to hate candy, she's acting like a real bitch right now, ngl..

FUCK YEAH CANDY!! GO SAVE YOUR FUCKING SON!!!

Aaand she went home.. goddamn it..

Yay Jerome is back!!

Goddamn.. she's a really good psychologist.

I swear to God Candy, if you mess up again I'm going to scream.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Danny, baby.. no :(

How dare you end the episode like that?!

Ep 10:

Jesus Christ, please don't let my baby die.

God damnit Jack..

I hate his smug fucking grin.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him..

Oh, If Danny can come back, so could Yitzhak, right? I miss him. :(

"Adam is me" I'm fucking crying again wtf..

I'm on the edge of me seat, please don't jail this boy!!

OH THANK GOD!!!

I can't stop crying aaaaa

If Danny can forgive Candy, I guess I should too.. but I don't wanna >:(

He looks so cute, with all the paint on his shirt. <3

Don't try and make me feel sympathy for Candy.

Hell yeah, no forgiveness for Candy!!!!

I love the friendship of Danny and Rya, they have such great chemistry!

Last thoughts, after doing some research:

They handled this whole theme so respectfully and good!

Tom also did such an amazing job portraying his roles, it's amazing!!

Especially considering that this series and the movie "Split" where apparently based on the same case.. I fucking hated how DiD was portrayed in Split.. Like it's something to fear. Like it makes people violent. And as something fucking supernatural.. I fucking hated that.. But "The Crowded Room" is so honest and respectful.. It's beautiful!

[frankhierrot]

POCAHONTAS 2 LIVE REACTION LEZ GOOO!!!

Note: I don't remember much from this movie at all. Wish me luck again.

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EYO BLONDE BOY JOHN SMITH IS BACKKK!!!

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YEEEEEE RATCLIFFE MY FAVORITE PURPLE CLAD EVIL DISNEY MANSSS AHHCSKGCSKGCSHLVDLHVJLD!!!

(Second after Dr. Facilier ofc.)

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I just realized that this is the only disney movie (that I know of) where the villain from the first movie returns in the second.

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Awwww! Miko and Percy! My absolute favorite love team!

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Pocahontas is still as fearless as ever, happily laughing while the rest hold on for dear life as they sled on snow at high speeds.

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I forgot that some of the men stayed behind, but now they have a small little village going on with natives watching their every move. Good for them.

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This John Rolfe guy or whatever, did he seriously have to ride a horse off a boat?

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Ew. That arrogant smirk he makes as he tells her,

"It's alright now, I've taken care of it."

Ew. It's giving John Smith 2.0.

What's up with your taste in men, Pocahontas?

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Ah, ok. I get why the horse is there now.

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Pfft- I love how all the men of the tribe start glaring and side eyeing him when it sounded like he was about to make an offensive remark about Pocahontas.

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"This is a matter of diplomacy. You can't handle a job like this."

My god this man sounds so fuckin misogynistic. I wanna strangle him.

Good on Pocahontas for not backing down.

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"Cut a notch in this staff for every pale face you see."

Bro's about to make more than a hundred notches on the staff, and it still wouldn't be enough.

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Everyone in this damn movie looks like they're sponsored by L'Oréal.

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I love how Percy is like, trying to lead Pocahontas into the carriage in his own doggy way. So adorable. I love him.

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What's with this wack ass Belle in the village musical bootleg music?

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Pfft- Poor John Rolfe, running around in search of Pocahontas while she explores.

Also, not once has her body guard stopped making notches on the staff to the point it's gotten so short...

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AAAAAA GOVERNOR RATCLIFFE MY MANNNN!!!

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Jesus Christ I fuckin hate this King James guy. Only his wife seems to have common sense.

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PFFT-

Bruh. John Rolfe, you've seen her in her much more revealing native clothes. How are long bloomers and long sleeved undershirt much more embarrassing to look at?

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Ew. This king. Praise seeker much? Gross keep your praise kinks outa this.

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Not me wanting so bad to be in Pocahontas' place and dancing with Governor Ratcliffe. XD

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I just noticed that Ratcliffe doesn't have his pretty purple eyeshadow on T_T

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Man, I simping for this guy hard now... What's up with me and my preference for big asshats??

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Bruh, these people are evil. They're laughing at a chained up bear.

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Yea! Tell him off sister!

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YEEAAA! JOHN SMITH TO THE RESCUE!!

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Pfft- Not John Smith boredly waiting for the other John fighting off the guards.

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Also. I just looked it up.

Governor Ratcliffe's full name is John Ratcliffe.

What is up with this girl and so many Johns in her life??

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Oh no. Not the love triangle dynamic.

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Like I said, the queen is the only bitch in that court with common sense. Good for her.

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"I'm ThE gHoSt Of JoHn SmItH, rUn FoR yOuR lIvEs!"

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!

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Again, with the flintlock pistols! Why is Governor Ratcliffe using a flintlock pistol under rainy weather? You dumb ass!!

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Jesus Christ, these men and their witty comebacks...

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Damn, John Smith really be letting Pocahontas go to another John.

What happened to

"I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without you."?

Like, damn boy, you sure move on quick.

——————————————————————————————

Oop- Nevermind. John Smith is back and just ruined the moment between her and the other John.

——————————————————————————————

Ok. Nevermind again. He moved on really quickly and was surprisingly accepting.

——————————————————————————————

Eeyyy! The other John is back! And the bodyguard guy is staying? And the maid lady owns the bear now??

——————————————————————————————

Ah. A kissing scene. What a great way to end the movie.

(Said sarcastically)

[theodoraflowerday]

young royals s3e5 episode reaction:

well I really hope the cliffhanger isn't horrifying bc this week is gonna be really fucking long

let's fuckin do this

"tired" and it's just him contending w the fact that erik might have been violently homophobic

i can excuse [rolls down a 6ft long papyrus] but I draw the line at being racist - august, probably

"family" LMFAO sure dumbass

seriously those girls are acting like sara and felice broke up (and I get it, friendship breakups are horrifying but damn)

"are you on something?" MY LITERAL FIRST QUESTION SKFISJFKSJFKDJF

I feel like micke is gonna die. idk.

his own letter? why?

oh. hello ludwig. i forgot what your voice sounded like.

"it's hard for her to show weakness" yeah well so it is for all of us. be a mother. show up for your son.

naaaaaaaaaaa volvete serio ludwig

wdym he was perfect. are you serious. do no adults in this show have the slightest bit of common sense?? you're talking to erik's spare my man. erik's little brother who now has to take on everything erik had to do. be the most fuckin for real rn

of fucking COURSE

"it'll be nice to celebrate you. and to meet simon too" ok that was sweet.

yeah wille being in the choir was starting to feel too weird skfjdkfjd

okay? calm your tits my man? simon hasn't said anything?

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON????? HE'S LITERALLY DEFENDING ERIK?????????

oooooookay kristina jr.

ohhhh it was sara's locker. ok.

oh micke is dead isn't he

FELICE DOING WILLE'S NAILS AAAAAA

HE'S PAINTING THEM PURPLE SOULMATISM

also is this the writers acknowledging the nonbinary wille headcanons bc.......

I can't believe wille likes doing his nails. that's so fuckin nonbinary of him.

god I wish micke had been dead. that is SO much worse.

pls don't get into a car crash sara

linda honey no. it doesn't fit him perfectly it's goddamn huge on him.

love shouldn't be this hard I agree linda

oh fuck me

oh her little face sara no

oh sara is breaking my goddamn heart

WILLE'S PURPLE NAILS

wilhelm, why do you have nail polish remover in your room

MI WILLE I'M GONNA FUCKING BLOW MY BRAINS OUT

omg malin was willing to be bribed. back to fanon malin we go (after the shit show that was season 2)

WHY IS HE WEARING THE PYJAMA PANTS AGAIN SIMON

okay this is killing me inside. this is too much.

BECAUSE THERE'S A RISK OF POISONING SJFKDJFKJFDKFJDKFKFKFKDLRK

simon's FACE im

SHE CURTSIED @ SIMON

I know he must have felt disgusting sjfkdjfk

after pretty much 3 years of a polar opposite fanon interpretation I cannot *believe* I'm witnessing kristina and ludwig being genuinely happy about meeting simon. this is so insane

august are you staring at sara's boobs

oh a rolex

OH IS IT BECAUSE OF ERIK

IT IS BECAUSE OF ERIK OG FUCKKKKK

I missed sara and felice I'm ngl. I love my tiny baby girls

oh kristina is about to throw up isn't she lmfao

ludwig is being weirdly nice. this is so strange.

ludwig and simon chatting away while kristina is about to choke and die

hold on. IS kristina gonna die?

even during wille's birthday they can't stop yapping about erik. my god do royals genuinely only care about their firstborn? god

NOT DILF HUNTER SJROSUFOSIDOD

class bad boy slfjdlgj I think they had to have done that on purpose. I mean vincent didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of giving him another award. I can assure you.

august is such a *sad* character oh my god

I WISH I HAD DONE THINGS DIFFERENTLY WITH YOU NAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW

oh of course she kissed him.

WHAT A SNITCH WTF

im

"please don't leave me alone with your parents like that again" honestly wille they could've eaten him alive

my god wilhelm you're being SO NASTY

OH HE'S GOING OFFF

oh ldkgldjgldjfldjffl

I can ASSURE YOU during my s2 liveblogging at one point I basically wrote "[points at ludwig] AND YOU" bc i was so fucking done with his bullshit skrjdlrkdlrkld

to hear wille going AND *YOU* is fucking sending me help

IT ISN'T EASY TO BE BOTH YOUR MOTHER AND YOUR BOSS OH FUCK OFF KRISTINA

I NOTICED BECAUSE YOU'RE SO USELESS AT BOTH HOLY FUCKING SWEET JESUS CHRIST

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD

me rn:

my god this is the most cathartic shit I've seen in my life

OH AND SIMON IS WATCHING THE WHOLE THING

god

I knew the cliffhanger was gonna be that

but I didn't expect them to cry like that nor did I expect ME to cry like that

bro I'm sobbing I can't wait another week

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Can I request "I can't stop thinking about you" or "last night was incredible" for Peter? Your Peter content always makes my morning/afternoon/evening/night.

aaaaaa you're so kind ;w; thank you so much!

I love my short king <3

things that you want to hear.

This is the fifth time this week you’ve been back to the circus.

You can’t help yourself, because you feel like you’ve begun to fall for one of the trapeze artists. He occupies your every other thought even when there are other things you should be thinking about.

He’s the most fascinating person you’ve come across since you can’t remember when. This short man with youthful features, who is undoubtedly an adult. You’ve never seen a child carry themself the way he does. He’s got short blonde hair, slate-blue eyes, and something about him has just made you weak.

The rest of the troupe must know about your infatuation. Several of them have made comments about seeing you, particularly the ringleader who seems to wonder what in the world their show has to offer ‘someone like you’. (One of the nobility, you’re sure he means. It stuns people when one of London’s aristocracy is overly and genuinely interested in affairs like this commoners’ circus.)

A woman of the same stature as the object of your affections introduced herself and the man, who’s apparently her brother… except you haven’t actually spoken to him yet. She just gave you their names before suggesting, several times, that you might want to talk to him.

Today, at least, you’re trying. You’ve come closer than before, lingering by where he’s perched atop a crate, eating half an apple. It looks like his eyes are unfocused, drifting off wherever, and suddenly ― as if sensing that you’re watching him ― he snaps his gaze over to you.

His eyes are withering. You’re not sure what he’s thinking, unless he’s hoping his eyes turn to daggers and strike you dead. At last, he scoffs. “The ‘ell are y’ gawkin’ at? I ain’t some freak show. Ain’t y’ been ‘ere enough times that a li’l man don’t shock y’ no more?”

… Oh, dear. He’s noticed that you’ve been to the circus a lot. Not just a lot, every night this week that they’ve put on a show. And two afternoons.

You suppose, in hindsight, that you could have been a bit more subtle. Are you staring at him?? Maybe. But not for the reason he thinks.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to gawk. And you’re not shocking, for the record.” You shift around before taking a step closer. “It’s… PETER, right? I’m (Name).”

“Oh, that right? (Name)?” He spits a couple of apple seeds into the grass. “I don’t care. Y’ been talkin’ t’ Wendy, ‘ave y’? Wot’re y’ lingerin’ round ‘ere f’r? Y’ keep comin’ t’ shows. Even people wot like our acts ain’t that faithful. Wot’s y’r problem?”

Part of you wonders if you should just come out and say it. That’s like tearing a bandage off a painful wound, right? Get it over with? At least if you do that, he can’t accuse you of beating around the bush.

So you take a deep breath. “I… I can’t stop thinking about you. That’s my problem. I… well… not ― not that I’d call it a problem, per se, but…” That’s what he’s asking, isn’t it? Why you keep coming to shows? You might as well be honest.

Of course, that does get his attention. He clearly wasn’t expecting that response, and perks up with eyes wide toward you. After a moment of surprise, his expression turns angry. Or, at least, incredibly irritated. “Oi, ‘avin’ a go at me? Ain’t funny. Wendy put y’ up t’ playin’ some joke on me, ‘uh?”

“W… what??” He thinks you telling him that you’re attracted to him is his sister playing a trick on him? You’re almost insulted that he thinks you’d let yourself be used like that. “No, she has nothing to do with… well, perhaps, she kept encouraging me to talk to you, but… but I think that’s only because she knew I had feelings for you.”

He rolls his eyes, and takes another bite from his apple half. More seeds find their way into the grass. He’s so… crude. “Y’ don’t fuckin’ know me, ‘ow can y’ ‘ave feelin’s f’r me? Go find a wood t’ get lost in.”

You frown, then step closer. “I’m being honest with you. It’s not something I can explain, but… I find you very handsome, and I… I came over today to finally ask if you’d like to go with me.”

“Go with y’? Go where with y’?”

“I mean… out? I don’t know where exactly… dinner, or a play, or dancing, or just a stroll…” You shrug. “We can do whatever you’d like.”

This time when he spits out another couple of seeds, he sputters, sounding almost like he’s choking. To wit, after spitting them out, he coughs a few times. “Wot, like a… wot d’they call it… courtin’ me?! Pfff… didn’t know Wendy would ask y’ t’ go this far. ‘M almost sorry f’r y’.”

Alright, you’re starting to get a little disheartened. “If you don’t want to go with me, you can just say so. I’ve got feelings; you could let me down gently.”

“The devil y’ goin’ on about?” With the final bite of his apple taken, he tosses the core down onto the ground and looks back at you. Then, he blinks a few times. “… Ah, fuck. Tell me this is a joke.”

“It’s not,” you mumble, rubbing self-consciously at your arm. “I don’t know why you assumed that, but it’s not. Genuinely, I can’t get you out of my head, and I’d like to get to know you better. Wendy was only talking to me because she noticed I was paying attention to you.”

He raises his hands, spread out as if to stop you from talking. “Wait, wait. So, y’re tellin’ me… y’ actually wanna be seen out in public with me?”

“That’s… strangely specific. But, yes, that’s what courting you would mean. Unless you wouldn’t be comfortable with that.” You shrug. “You’re allowed to say no to me, but I do like you. Sincerely. No tricks. I find you handsome and interesting.”

Peter squints at you, head tilted, like he’s searching for any little sign of a lie. After a long moment, he blows a breath out his nose, and pushes himself off the crate he’s been sitting on. It’s almost like he thinks if he reminds you how much shorter he is than you, you’ll reconsider. “Alright, (Name). Come back after t’morrow night’s show, ‘n’ we’ll take a walk ‘r somethin’.”

With that, he turns to walk off. “Don’t worry, y’ll ‘ave enough’a me after that!”

Somehow, you don’t think you will. Just this short interaction has left you wanting more.

How much more, you wonder, will you want after spending an evening with him?

[httpiastri]

idk about brainstorming but the way i loved you just give me the vibes of being in a completely fine and chill situation (like with ollie??) and not being able to fuckin chill and enjoy it remembering of how wild and crazy it was with paul

like, things being fine but the voices inside your head won't leave you alone because you know you miss the wild part and also feels a little guilty bc howww can things be fine ollie be such a sweetheart, and you not be able to enjoy it???

and also paul kinda noticing that you're a little bored because he knows both you and ollie 😬

ANYWAYS i really love you writing and I really hope you write this idea bc i just LOVE it!!! ollie and paul have such different vibesss you were really a mastermind in this one

AAAAAA !!!!! thank you so much for this!!! i can rlly see this so clearly 🤭 like being with ollie is so good, it's perfect in so many ways. he's a true and complete gentleman all of the time; buys your mother flowers when he visits your parents, opens all doors for you, always making you feel safe. and it's so easy for you to feel guilty because you know you should think it's all perfect for you and you should feel so satisfied. but you just don't. something is off.

cue paul aron (who never really left your life lol)! every time you see him, it's like you get thrown back to the days when you used to be with him, and you get reminded of how great things were (at times). and paul reads you so well, the two of you were almost inseparable before and you know each other like the back of your hand, so it's easy for him to notice how unhappy you are in the relationship. he's good friends with ollie so he knows how gentle ollie can be, and he knows that isn't all you need in a relationship...

but on the other side, ollie also senses all of this. he knows what your relationship with paul was like; he knows how intense it was and how strong your love for each other was. and ollie notices the glances you take of your former lover, the way you suddenly get glossy-eyed and how your mood is affected when paul is mentioned in a conversation.

the thing is, ollie is headstrong and doesn't like to give up without a fight – he'll do anything he can to keep you. so he tries to find ways to make your relationship more like the one you had with paul, but... it just doesn't have the same spark for you, no matter how hard he tries....

thank you for your sweet words 🥺🥺 i dont remember when i first had the thought of them to that song but i really do think their vibes match it !!! and i've also kinda been thinking about that swedish house mafia & the weeknd song, cant remember the name..... but like "he seems like he's good for you, he makes you feel like you should, all your friends say he's the one, his love for you is true" for ollie, and then "but does he know you call me when he sleeps? does he know the pictures that you keep? does he know the reasons that you cry? does he know where your heart truly lies?" for paul...... like omg paul isnt your boyfriend but you still can't help but share secrets with him sometimes 😭 im going crazy, sorry

[samaraxmorgan]

HEAR ME OUT PLEASE I MUST YAPP

OK SOOO WHAT IF WE FIND OUT HOW SUKUNA FEELS ABOUT US ON TOTAL ACCIDENT AND LIKE HE THEN REALISES WHAT HE JUST SAID AND TRYS TO BACK TRACK BUT CAN'T BECAUSE NOW WE KNOW AND WE TELL HIM WE LIKE HIM TOO AND THEN BOOM! Sukuna wakes up from his dream and sighs into his hands or something >:D

I love being evil ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )/ ✨

ps. Reminder to have a good day/night and I love your work, art or writing :D

HELLO BABE!!!

Oh you’re EVIL!!! DIABOLICAL!!!! I love that idea that sounds SO fun BUT I know everyone is super excited for a confession to happen so I would feel WAY TOO BAD faking everyone out ASKAKAMAMM

I absolutely ADORE the accidental confession trope!! I think it’s just the cutest fuckin thing EVERR and omg the idea of Sukuna slipping and confessing on accident is !!!! AAAAAA

I wonder how he would confess by mistake like!! Would he be drunk and not even remember saying it the next day while we’re sitting there blushing up a storm wondering if we should mention it or pretend it never happened? Would he be focused on something else and not realize what he just said until it’s too late? ORRR (and this might be my favorite bc I think this suits him so much) do we get into an argument and in the heat of the moment it’s one of those “why does me doing XYZ bother you so much?!” “because I fucking care about you!” AAAAAAA

Maybeeee way later into the series I’ll have him accidentally tell the us that he loves us, but for the initial “I really want to be with you” moment I doooo have an idea that I really like :) With him having such a difficult time admitting his emotions and being vulnerable I’m leaning towards him finally deciding enough is enough and telling us upfront!! I feel like it would be rlly good for his character growth to finally be HONEST about how he’s feeling and take the leap by telling us :)

I hope you have a lovely day!!! 💜💜💜 and AAAA THANK YOUUU!!!

[polaris-daydreams]

ive only watched s1 n didnt see mark as a blorbo (for lack of a better word lol) but i followed op/olivia for her billy fics soo im dipping my pinky into this hehe.

"and he's trembling—trembling—like he’s the one doubling over in both need and humiliation. as if this is breaking him, the unbreakable—like it is you. "

ufff the description of it breaking Mark The Invincible (tm).

“i am fighting it!” he snaps back, but there’s no venom, only pain. he drags a shaky breath in through his nose. “i’ve been fighting it since you said my fuckin' name.”

love how the small things like reader saying mark's name, saying "fuck" was making the battle harder and harder for him.

"maybe we just...touch? something...i'm sorry—just, please." he sounds desperate, and you know he is. equally as needy and out of it as you.

“here...” he says again, and this time his voice is low, guttural, like he’s barely holding himself together. his hand slides from your wrist to your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there, possessive and demanding.

MMMMM. omgomg. i love seeing how desperate mark is. how that "just one touch" is definitely gonna escalate because it wont be nearly enough for them both. that "possessive and demanding" ?? yum. yummy.

"then he's kissing you. the contact brings a new kind of pain and pleasure—sharp and bittersweet. you gasp into his mouth, your hands finding their way to his shoulders. it hurts. everything hurts. but it also feels…so good. like coming home to something you’d never known was missing. he tastes addicting—it’s overwhelming in the best way possible."

holy cow that "like coming home to something youd never known was missing" was so beautiful. perfectly encapsulates their desire. how it all hurts yet feels so good when it shouldnt.

he groans, eyes half-lidded, "not anymore—" his head falls to the crook of your neck, nose inhaling your scent, "i need more."

agskdheke. i live for the guy being so vocal about needing more. n the fact that mark's head is in the crook of reader's neck while he begs wiehskdhsos. im so good.

"his fingers are clumsy, yes—but they're reverent. like you’re something sacred and holy. something he never thought he’d be allowed to touch."

REVERENT ?? SACRED ??? HOLY ???? im. im foaming at the mouth at how mark is basically worshipping reader. like the answers to his prayers.

"you don’t—fuck—you don’t know what you’re doing to me," he grits out, forehead dropping against yours. "fucking unfair really—"

we got a "you dont know what youre doing to me" yall. im. im really so okay. not giggling and kicking my feet. at all.

LIKE EDEN PERSONIFIED ???????? HELLO ? on the floor.

“can’t—can’t stop,” he pants, voice rough and cracked from the heat and how hard he’s breathing. his pupils are blown wide, sweat sliding down his temples, dark hair sticking to his forehead. the usual softness in his expression is long gone, replaced with something animal—something ravenous. “feels like i’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

“again.” he breathes. “make that sound again. please, fuck—i’ll give you anything.”

my analysis hat is gone. ive been reduced to freaking out. just. AAAAAA. the way mark cant stop because it just feels so damn good ?? how reader making 1 specific sound affected mark so much he was begging for reader to do it again ??? how vocal mark is about how the pleasure feels, about how he needs more, craves more ???? the way mark's body is moving as if he's on autopilot because the desire is coursing through his entire being and his instincts are taking over ???? AGSJSDHSKSK.

this was a wild ride. dare i say mark has grown on me a little thanks to op's/olivia's jaw dropping writing ?? literally had me captivated from start to finish when i didnt feel that much for the character before reading. op/olivia you mentioned this wasnt like what you usually write but this was incredible !! i know your writing from billy the kid but you honestly did a great job with this character. thank you for writing this op/olivia :)) !!

ON MY WAY TO HEAVEN, TOOK A DETOUR TO MY VICES

｡𖦹° M.GRAYSON

🎧ྀི it was meant to be an easy mission, something mundane—but the second you and mark wake up feverish and desolate, you put those hopes of ease to bed. something's in your bloodstream, festering, begging to be let out—soothed. the worst of it all—whatever the hell’s in your system has infested itself in mark as well. and you’re not sure how long he can bear it.

wc 3.8k | minors dni, 18+ CW | S3X POLLEN FIC so, dark content (i'd say. they're close pre-fic but not this close), main!mark also, college!mark, college!reader & superhero!reader, cursing, ominous villian, they're drugged, pain from battle, body discomfort, characters horny under duress, fevers (is that a warning), mentions of yakking, plot—what plot? smut: piv, unsteady consent (see; s3x pollen), hints of voyuerism.

the ground beneath you doesn’t feel real. just jagged rock and cold dirt, and your heat-slick skin pressed to it like it’ll help. it doesn’t. nothing seems to. you're not sure you even remember when the effects started, but you're sure you've prayed to every god within the span for it all to stop.

you groan, roll onto your side, and blink up at the burnt orange sky. your fingers shake as they press the comm at your ear. nothing. just static. the sound of your own ragged breathing, like it’s echoing from somewhere deep inside your chest.

across from you is—mark—INVINCIBLE. suit torn, chest rising and falling like he ran the globe and back. he shoots a look at you—eyes blown wide. his stare hold recognition first, then confusion, and then something else. something hazy, almost delirious. until he bends forward, on his hands and knees, coughing hard.

his shoulders twitch, wings of tension mar his back. he spits onto the ground, breath steaming in the cooler air—there's too much heat pouring out of him.

you breathe out his name, a weak, inquisitive tone. he flinches like it hurts.

"think i—" he tries, then swallows the rest. “it hit us. during the fight. whatever it was.”

you nod. you don’t say anything. you already know.

because your body feels wrong.

burning. wriggling. like every nerve is two seconds from misfiring. like if you moved the wrong way—against how your body is craving—you’d tear something open from the inside.

you sit up almost impossibly slow, every muscle screaming. mark collapses back onto the dirt beside you, blinking fast. skin flushed. chest heaving.

you don’t meet his eyes. you can’t, instead, you clear your throat, trying to hide some of the discomfort you're feeling. if mark's already far gone, one of you has to keep a clear(er) head.

for a split second, you can hear cecil reprimanding you for getting caught in this situation—whatever it is.

"maybe it’s some kind of toxin.” you mutter, trying to keep it clinical. detached. “we have a fever. we can just wait it out.”

“yeah,” he says, voice low and hoarse. “sure. just a fever.”

except it’s not—and you both know it.

the burn behind your ribs, the pressure deep in your hips, the way your pulse stutters every time you hear him shift beside you—it’s not pain. it’s something else.

something archaic and primal, something utterly abysmal.

you shift, just slightly, and your breath catches—pain threading sharply through your core. it’s not the injuries. not bruises, or sprains, or broken skin. it’s deeper. like an anatomical pressure valve being tampered with from the inside.

mark’s hands twitch where they rest in the dirt. his fingers curl into a fist. his jaw’s clenched tight, like he’s trying not to make any sound.

you follow suit—you don’t speak. the silence stretches, and stretches.

and then—mark's voice, “don’t touch me.”

the words come from somewhere not right. too low, too strained, practically rehearsed. but his words are clear. and they make your stomach drop.

you blink, “i wasn’t going to.”

his adam’s apple bobs, head nodding, “i know. i know. just—don’t.”

the two of you sit there, breathing in tandem, a vile cadence. the feeling, a ribald fever—it’s escalating. second by second. beat by beat. breath by breath.

you try your comm again, the same static greets you.

“we need to move, we can't stay here.” you say. it’s more head-strung than true plan. “get somewhere safer. a building. cave. anything but open ground."

mark shakes his head, scanning the sandy terrain, “don’t think i can fly right now.”

you look over. he’s shaking. his hands, his shoulders, his mouth. he’s not meeting your gaze anymore. his pupils are nearly black with dilation. his lips are parted, breath shallow.

you open your mouth to say something—anything—but your stomach turns. a wave of heat rolls over you so strong it knocks every bit of air from your lungs. like you’ve been anesthetized with pure fire. like your body’s burning up, molecule by molecule.

you fall back onto your elbows, gasping, "fuck—"

mark startles at the sound, eyes snapping to you. but this time…he doesn't look away.

you finally see it—not confusion, not resistance. just raw, scorching lust trying so painfully to wear the face of shame, disgrace, humilation.

his voice is practically a whimper, “hmm—it’s getting worse.”

you nod once, voice coming out unnecessarily gritty, "yeah. i know. it got me too."

and that’s when it hits you.

you weren’t meant to die in that fight. you were meant to survive it. long enough to get away—together. long enough to fall apart—together.

long enough to complete whatever sick, calculated, and meticulously planned sequence someone else set into motion. the thought has you reeling away from the dark-haired hero. your body cries out at the movement, but you force it anyway.

the barely-there logic left within you is screaming at you to get away, to not succumb to the lurid visions invading your mind, to realize that this isn't right—it's warfare of your own body, your autonomy.

you dig your own fingers into the dirt, trying to anchor yourself to something that isn’t your own body, that isn’t his breathing.

you shouldn’t look at him again. you know better. but your body doesn’t listen, and your eyes drag back to him like they have to.

and he's trembling—trembling—like he’s the one doubling over in both need and humiliation. as if this is breaking him, the unbreakable—like it is you.

and maybe he is. maybe this thing, whatever it is, doesn’t care that he’s half-alien, that he’s strong enough to break worlds. right now, he looks damn near breakable.

"we have to fight it.” you say through your teeth, but it sounds less like an order and more like a plea.

“i am fighting it!” he snaps back, but there’s no venom, only pain. he drags a shaky breath in through his nose. “i’ve been fighting it since you said my fuckin' name.”

you flinch. not because of what he said, but because of how much truth there is in it. you're both trying, both failing.

something curls inside you—tight and electric. want, not yours, not entirely. it's something layered, ancient—synthetic. something meant to reduce thinking things to base instinct.

“we must have gotten tagged,” you say out loud, trying to organize your shared chaos, trying to drag reason into your mess. “during the fight—maybe tech, some compound, i don’t know. it’s designed to keep us…compliant. distracted.”

mark breathes out a ragged chuckle, “yeah? i think it’s working.”

you don't laugh back.

because you're terrified that it is, indeed, working. that whatever you were hit with, doesn’t need to be permanent. it just needs to last long enough to make you too weak to resist. the various, "why's" all but lost on you. you just know it can't happen—you can't succumb.

“i don’t know if i can move...” mark murmurs. he’s curled inward now, knees drawn slightly to his chest, like he’s trying to keep something inside. “my body is—i don’t know how to describe it. everything’s too much. you feel that too?”

you nod, far too fast, like it’ll stop the shudder building inside you, “like it’s crawling under my skin. like i'll...lose it if anyone touches me.”

mark exhales, slow and bitter. “yep. like that.”

your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. you taste copper. maybe from biting your cheek. whatever—it tastes rancid.

you can’t stay like this. you can’t.

you scramble onto your knees, nearly retching from the sensation alone, but you stay up, teetering. “we have to get somewhere. underground. shielded. wherever this thing can’t—find us. we’re not safe out here.”

mark doesn’t respond. not at first.

then, faintly, like it’s killing him to admit, “i don’t know if i trust myself to be anywhere alone with you.”

that hurts worse than anything. not because he’s wrong. but because he’s right.

you stare at him, raw and quiet, and your voice cracks like brittle glass, “mark—it's not just you going through this. do you think i even trust myself right now?”

he lifts his head, finally. eyes still wild, but there’s clear guilt beneath it now, a thick and ugly weight pulling down the corners of his mouth. “i’m trying, okay? i’m trying so hard not to think about what this is making me want—from you. i’m trying not to want it too.”

that’s what makes it worse.

because he said it. he feels it. wants it, he does. you do too.

you can feel impulse pulling at the edges of your self-control, grinding your mind down to something basic and desperate. all of it—every broken thought, every sharp-edged craving—leads you straight to him.

your voice wobbles, barely a whisper, “what if it’s not just trying to…divert us?”

mark’s breath catches, you hear it so clearly, too clearly.

“what if it’s trying to make us…” you swallow, the word tastes sour, thick, “bond.”

you don’t need to explain. not to him. not to the guy you shared an anatomy course with last spring. not to a half-viltrumite who knows what it means when instincts override reason. he knows, same as you.

his arms twitch. he covers them over his face as if he can block the thought out of existence. “fuck. that’s—”

“inhuman,” you finish. “which makes sense. we’ve fought worse.”

“but nothing that’s…used us like this.” he shakes his head. “nothing that’s made me want to—oh, god.”

you look down at your hands at his outburst—how they tremble like they’ve got a will of their own. how they ache for something, but nothing you can give them. not without losing everything else.

you whisper, “we need help.”

mark groans, “but no one’s coming—are they?”

you glance back toward the horizon. no sign of movement. no hum of backup. no smoke flares or jets. just the buzz of static and your own ragged breath.

no. no one’s coming.

you and mark are on your own.

and whatever’s been done to you—it’s not done yet.

"maybe we just...touch? something...i'm sorry—just, please." he sounds desperate, and you know he is. equally as needy and out of it as you.

Dismissal passes across your mind, gone in a flash, "just touch?" your question comes out so soft, you wonder if he can hear you over the wind.

"yeah—here," he grabs your wrist, and for a second, you're overcome with solace. in your belly, your heart, your head—pure relief. but then the small touch becomes far too little, far too fast.

he pulls you closer, straddling him now, and you can smell him—sweat and saccharine sin. his breath fans across your neck as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“here...” he says again, and this time his voice is low, guttural, like he’s barely holding himself together. his hand slides from your wrist to your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there, possessive and demanding.

you shiver, your body betraying you as heat pools low in your belly. his other hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you can’t stop yourself from parting your lips, letting out a shaky breath.

"this is so fucked up," you manage. you don't pull away, but you give him the most serious look you can muster, "i'm so sorry."

mark swallows, "i know, i am too. i just want to make you feel better—make us feel better."

you nod—because he's right. you believe him. it’s not a lie, not a trick, not some smooth line he’s tossing out just to get laid. it’s him. desperate, aching, more human than you’ve ever seen him.

and still, it’s wrong.

but so much of you doesn’t care. not now, not when you feel like this and he's staring at you like you're the only oasis in this desert.

his thumb trails your lip again and you don’t even flinch, don’t even blink. instead, your mouth opens for him, and that’s when something in his expression fractures. his breath stutters like a heartbeat skipping a step and he exhales your name like it’s the only word he remembers.

then he's kissing you. the contact brings a new kind of pain and pleasure—sharp and bittersweet. you gasp into his mouth, your hands finding their way to his shoulders. it hurts. everything hurts. but it also feels…so good. like coming home to something you’d never known was missing. he tastes addicting—it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

his kisses are wet and demanding—hard enough to bruise, and you let him. god, you let him. you need him to. you can't stop yourself from moaning as he drags you in closer, fingers sinking into your hips and waist, pulling you flush against his own body.

your core throbs in time with his heartbeat as he presses against you, free hand digging hard enough into the the ground that the dirt beneath cracks. his lips move down your jaw, teeth nipping at your earlobe, "you feel—really, fuckin' good. Feels good to touch you."

you can tell by the way his words run on, he's rambling. if it weren't for the need in your own system, you'd try to pull this back—make him realize how stupid this is.

but you don't, "does it make you feel any better? am i helping?"

he groans, eyes half-lidded, "not anymore—" his head falls to the crook of your neck, nose inhaling your scent, "i need more."

he says it as such a plea—like it’s the last thing he’ll ever say. it wrecks you.

"okay..." you breathe, fingers tangling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "okay, mark."

he shudders, your name desperately falling from his lips again as he kisses at your throat, open-mouthed and hungry. like he’s starving and you’re the only thing he’s ever even wanted to taste. when he drags his teeth along your pulse, your hips jerk against him, and the answering grunt punched out of his chest feels like a prize.

your hands are tearing away at his suit before you even realize it, palms skating across much too warm skin, the heat from his body almost intolerable. his muscles jump beneath your touch as he pulls back just enough to look at you—flushed, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-swollen. he’s shaking. quivering. trying so hard to hold himself back.

"please don't hate me for this. i need you," he pants, voice breaking. "i want—i just want us to get better."

you nod again. not just because you can’t speak, but because you feel like you had given in to this the minute his skin touched yours. every pulse of your body is screaming for him, every synapse firing off his name. you drag his mouth back to his instead of answering, and he whines into the kiss, his hands slipping off your suit like he’s done it a thousand times before.

his fingers are clumsy, yes—but they're reverent. like you’re something sacred and holy. something he never thought he’d be allowed to touch.

you feel his restraint slipping, fraying at the edges the longer you’re pressed together, the more your bodies align. he’s trying so hard to be gentle, to be careful, but his hips keep rolling against yours like they have a mind of their own, like he can’t help it—like he’s fighting himself just to keep from tearing through every physical layer between you.

your head falls back, and he takes advantage, licking into the valley of your neck, hand sliding over the swell of your chest. the contact makes you whimper and arch into him, needing more, needing everything, and you feel his grip falter as he breathes against your skin.

"you don’t—fuck—you don’t know what you’re doing to me," he grits out, forehead dropping against yours. "fucking unfair really—"

"stop—stopping. you're the one being unfair." you whisper, and that’s what shatters him. your rebuttal is all it takes.

his resolve crumbles—and he’s on you like he was made for it.

his hands are everywhere, frantic and greedy, yanking at the fabric of your suit like he can’t stand the damned thing. his mouth crashes into yours again, this time with no hesitance, no restraint—just pure, crude need. his tongue explores every inch of your mouth as if he’s trying to put the taste of you to memory.

you can feel his cock pressing beneath you through his torn suit, and you roll your hips against him, needing to feel more, needing to feel him.

"fuck," he groans into your mouth, hands gripping your hips so tight it almost hurts.

you don’t even think anymore. your hands are fumbling with the yellow and blue material covering him—exposing more and more of his red-tinted flesh. he lets out this broken little laugh at your effort, a desperate sound that only makes you want him more, but then he’s helping you, masks is thrown to the side, then the vibrant colors of your suits follow—leaving both of you bare. taking in eachother—the rise and fall of his chest, his toned stomach—down, to his cock. and fuck, is he perfect—thick and hard and already leaking, tip glistening.

you wrap your hand around him, stroking him slowly, just to hear him moan. he doesn’t disappoint. his head falls back, his mouth falling open as he lets out this low, guttural sound that goes straight to your core.

"holy fuuck," he breathes, his hips jerking into your hand. "you’re gonna fucking ruin me."

his words only prove to egg you on, because then you’re pushing him down into the ground, clambering onto his lap like a woman possessed.

your hands are on his chest, skimming over the hard planes of his body as you position yourself over him. he grips your hips tight as you sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch—until he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

he chokes out your name, his head lulling as you start to move. his hands are everywhere now—on your breasts, your ass, your thighs—like he can’t decide where to touch you first. but it doesn’t matter. all that matters is the way he feels inside you, the way he fills you so perfectly you swear you’ll never need anything else.

and then you’re riding him like your life depends on it—hard and fast and needy, your hands bracing yourself on his chest as you take what you need from him. and he lets you—he lets you use him like this, lets you take control, and all the while he’s watching you with this look in his eyes—like you’re eden personified.

"fuck," he groans again, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrusts up into you, wild. "you feel so fucking good. so fucking perfect."

the air’s dry and scorching around you, sun sinking low but still brutal, painting everything in a haze of gold and sweat and dust. your knees dig into the sandy dirt, scuffed and trembling from how you’ve been riding him, but neither of you let up—not when his hands clutch you like you're the only thing tethering him to earth.

“can’t—can’t stop,” he pants, voice rough and cracked from the heat and how hard he’s breathing. his pupils are blown wide, sweat sliding down his temples, dark hair sticking to his forehead. the usual softness in his expression is long gone, replaced with something animal—something ravenous. “feels like i’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

he shifts, steadies himself with one arm on the ground, and drives up—deeper—hard enough that you cry out, your body jerking in his grip. you go limp in his grasp, falling forward into him. it's the closest you've gotten to relief yet, and your mouth is expelling every sound of pleasure it possibly can.

and god, the look on his face when he hears you. it’s ravaged, desperate, like he’s starving.

“again.” he breathes. “make that sound again. please, fuck—i’ll give you anything.”

your body responds on its own, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, dragging him deeper, tighter.

the compound is still thick in your blood, turning every brush of skin into a live wire, sending every moan into something that echoes inside your skull.

“i wanna come with you,” he moans, almost frenzied now, head tipping back again. “wanna feel you lose it around me. you’re—shit, you’re so wet, i can feel you shaking—please, just—come on, come on, please.”

he thrusts up into you again, snapping his hips. your body gives in before your mind does—tightening, clenching around him, and his whole body jerks beneath you. you're both a mess, just grasping at eachother like you're one. your vision is overcast, blurred and your ears seem to be dialed in on every sound falling out of mark's lips.

his mouth drops open. he shouts your name, follows it up with a slew of curses, praises, prayers.

he grabs your waist like he's afraid you'll vanish, grinding up into you through the wave of it, chasing your high as if it's a storm.

“that’s ittt.” he groans, burying his face against your chest as he spills into you, hips still twitching, breath ragged and rough. “that’s it, that’s it…”

he holds you like he doesn’t know where he ends and you begin, arms wrapped tight around your back, heart pounding against your ribs. both of you shaking, ruined, covered in sweat and dust and heat—but still not entirely satisfied. not really.

you pull yourself off of him slowly, wincing at the sudden absence of his warmth. the ground feels like ice beneath your skin, the coolness juxtaposed with the burning heat that radiates from the two of you.

neither of you speaks at first. you can hear him trying to steady his breath, but it’s labored, like he's still unsure whether he's waking up from a dream—or a nightmare. you sit next to him, not quite looking at him, but not able to stay away either. the weight of the air around you presses down, heavier than the sand and dust under your hands.

mark shifts beside you, the sound of his movements dragging you back to the moment. he looks at you, eyes wide and confused, but there's something else there—something darker, almost desperate.

"we can't tell anyone about this," he mutters, the words catching in his throat.

you nod, your hands shaking slightly as you pull your knees to your chest. the weight of the situation presses down on you like a vice, but his words, though simple, offer some strange sense of clarity. there’s no going back now.

"i know." you whisper, voice strained but firm.

he runs a hand through his hair, fingers raking roughly, but it’s clear he’s struggling to pull himself together. "we can’t let anyone find out what happened," he says again, this time more to himself than to you. "not yet. not until we figure out who—or what—the hell did this to us."

you meet his gaze then, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. there’s a quiet understanding in the air between you, a silent agreement forged in the mess of everything that just happened. the rawness of what you've shared is terrifying, but it’s also…something only the two of you know. and that means, somehow, it’s yours to carry.

"we'll go back." you say quietly, though the words feel like a weight in your chest. "just… we go back home. like nothing happened."

he nods, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. "yeah. no one needs to know about this. not yet."

with a deep breath, you both stand and grab your suits. the haze feels as though it’s slowly slipping away, but in its place, doubt is bubbling. neither of you are too sure what you got yourselves into—but you know it changed everything.

writer's note .☘︎ ݁˖ this is so unlike anything i've ever written so i hope i did okay—i just had to write something for mark. he's captivated me. also i got through the entire series so fast i had to write just to quell my invincible brainrot LMAO. this fic isn’t beta’d, so if there are grammar mistakes and such i’m sorry! if you enjoyed this—reblog or comment (or both and i'll love you forever)

dedicated to @inthehystericalrealm to hoping we find our own mark variants in this life <3

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[xelles-archive]

aaaaaaaaaa

i'm softtttt...

[shima-draws]

I watched The Secret Service AND The Golden Circle today and I just

I really really really love Eggsy and Harry and their relationship and everything about them they make me cry