#I know all of this is incredibly obvious if you think about it for like 2 seconds

[plaidos]

it’s pretty hilarious when people say “lmao you obviously don’t know anything about Alison Bechdel if you think she’s a terf” because if anything the exact opposite is true: if you know anything about Alison Bechdel outside of a few comics uploaded to tumblr it is shockingly obvious that she’s a terf. She can’t get through a full sentence without shilling one or the major terf playbooks (Fun Home opens with her self-insert proudly reading Gyn/Ecology for fucks sake), all of her real life feminist heroes are… you guessed it! they’re almost all terfs! Where did she spend her time every year? Why, at the infamously transphobic Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival, of course! She only stopped going when they completely cancelled the event (because of how many trans people were protesting it) and still went after trans people she knew asked her not to

“but what about that one comic where she re-examines her bias about bathrooms?” i don’t know how to tell you this, but people can still be transphobes if they think trans people should get the dignity of having somewhere to pee; not every racist (or even every white supremacist) is arguing about how we should bring back racially segregated bathrooms and indeed many modern racists are patting themselves on the back for finding no problem with that. Besides, the punchline of the comic is that trans women are less likely to be stopped in bathrooms than cis lesbians because we conform to gender stereotypes more than them (in her mind) — it’s just one in a long line of comments in Dykes To Watch Out For about how trans people are, at best, “conformist homosexuals”

if you look in the comments section of Dykes To Watch Out For on her website, youll find that it’s absolutely teaming with terfs, many of whom Bechdel was close friends with and mentioned in her blog posts.

the crazy thing about this is how many people are unwilling to hear a single, basic & incredibly apparent criticism against a white cis woman because she represents a “RETVRN” to “the good days of feminism”. anybody throwing a tantrum about trans women pointing out these incredibly obvious politics held by cisgender idols should similarly be considered a terf: if people were genuinely concerned they’d ask for more information rather than immediately shutting down any mention that this could be true.

[spiderb00]

- FEMININE

Sophia Laforteza x femme!reader  

“Sophia was sure she wanted you! She just wasn't sure if you were into girls.” 

Genre – fluff        warnings - none 

Now playing – Lack Of You, by Okayceci 

“If you follow me falling to pieces. I love you, my dear, don’t you see it?” 

Sophia had never felt like this! She never thought anyone could make such a mess of herself. How could someone mess with her emotions so much? How could someone turn her world upside down?

And how could the person responsible for all this be a girl?

When you first entered Sophia's eyesight, she thought you were an angel on earth. She thought you were one of the coolest, most beautiful girls she had ever seen in her entire life. She envied your clothes, specifically how good that skirt looked on you. She envied how that top showed off your curves, specifically how it showed off your perfect waist. She was jealous of your cute shoes, and how the socks you wore made your legs look inviting. She was jealous of your perfect make-up, specifically how the gloss shone on your lips, making them irresistible.

From that day on, Sophia knew she wanted you! It was already done, the woman had put it in her head that she was going to have you! Luckily, you've always been close to Lara, you both grew up together and you've always been those best friends that everyone wants to have or be. Your energy is fantastic, Sophia could feel it from miles away.

The only thing she couldn't sense was whether you really were into girls.

The girl seemed lost, it was almost as if she didn't know what to do. None of the girls knew that Sophia had a crush on you, and the Filipina was too shy to ask Lara about her best friend's sexuality. So whenever you turned up at the Kats' house, Sophia was like an entity, hovering over you as if you were some kind of goddess - which you are to the Filipina girl.

Sophia would spend days thinking and fantasizing about the perfect time to try to get close to you. She imagined every possible scenario. She imagined what your hand would feel like in hers, what your soft lips would feel like on hers, what your angelic voice would sound like calling her name. She dreamed of everything.

When the house was silent - as it was today - Sophia's thoughts ran wild through the walls of her mind, and stumbling through the kitchen to get something to eat, the Filipina didn't even notice the angelic figure sitting on the couch in the living room.

You watched Sophia as if she were from another world, as if she were a deity descended from heaven condemned to live in this world. You knew Sophia had a crush on you! Of course, she was never exactly vocal about it, but the way she was constantly looking at you, admiring the details, touching your shoulders and arms as if you were going to break, gave you an idea of what was going on in the Filipina's head.

You'd never talked about any of this with Lara, in fact, you weren't even sure if Sophia really liked you. But you were pretty sure that your childhood friend had noticed the incredibly obvious behavior of the leader of the Kats.

You smiled in a corner, seeing Sophia completely distracted by the idea of looking for something in the fridge.

“Lara went to buy some Thai food, you can wait for her if you're not too hungry.”

Hearing your voice, the Filipina jumped in the place. Sophia banged her head on the top of the fridge as soon as she heard the sound of your sweet voice, and her cheeks turned red the very moment she realized that you had just witnessed her being completely clumsy.

Looking at you - for the first time - Sophia closed the fridge door with a shy smile, one of her hands reaching for the back of her head as the girl massaged the spot.

“Sorry, I didn't see you...” The nervous smile on her face caused a soft smile to spring to your lips, but worry soon took over.

"I should apologize for scaring you. Come here, are you okay?"

Kneeling on the sofa, you watched Sophia approach you. Her hand was still massaging the spot of the blow while she tried to act naturally.

“I'm fine, it didn't hurt...”

“Come here, let me see.”

Your hand reached for the collar of the hoodie Sophia was wearing, pulling the woman closer to you. Sophia's eyes widened slightly, her breathing became unregulated and her hands began to ring a little. Your presence always caused that in her, it was that kind of nervousness that she hated and loved at the same time.

“ Sit down ”

She obeyed.

Sophia sat with her back to you, taking a deep breath as your hands searched her head for any signs of serious injury. Your hands lingered a little longer in her hair than necessary, but you couldn't lie in saying that it wasn't deliberate.

Dragging yourself across the sofa, you felt next to the Filipina, crossing your legs and sighing, watching Sophia stare at the living room floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You'll be fine.” You spoke first, feeling the tension slowly dissipate.

“Thank you ma'am.” Sophia replied playfully.

You laughed, and so did she.

The laughter stopped as the two of you looked at each other. Sophia's eyes roaming all over your face, while your eyes traveled from her eyes to her mouth. Sophia was beautiful, and you knew you wanted her to tell you what she meant with all those enigmatic looks and lingering touches.

Sighing again, you hugged your legs, leaning your back against the back of the couch. Sophia looking at you softly, those looks always made you feel like one of the most beautiful paintings in the world. As if Sophia had come to you just to admire you endlessly.

“You're so beautiful.” She said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in.

“Do you think so?”

Your question made the Filipina nod. Nodding slowly, Sophia's lips were wide open, they glistened with gloss, and you always wanted to taste them.

“I think you're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen in my life.”

“And what else?”

Your gaze was glazed over Sophia's eyes, the unbreakable battle of looks between the two of you made all the sounds outside disappear. Sophia didn't know if it was really real or just another one of her thoughts, where she imagined you and her talking for more than five minutes.

“I think I love everything about you.” Sophia's words echoed through your head.

“Why haven't you told me this before?”

“ Because I was scared.” Finally settling on the couch, you sat down properly, moving closer to Sophia only to hear the woman's breathing hitch. "You're so feminine and... you know, I don't know, I feel like I'm talking bullshit right now." The woman said, turning her face away to hide the redness.

A nervous laugh escaped her lips, but you didn't laugh along, you just stood there, observing how beautiful she was, how every detail of her seemed to have been delicately sculpted by hand.

Reaching out, you gently grasped Sophia's face, making her look up at you. The slightly wide eyes, the inviting lips, the cute nose, everything about her made you want to kiss her.

“Oh Sophia... there's nothing more feminine than liking girls!”

okay, this is just a test.

How are you babes? Hope you're all doing okay. Well, I'm finally finished friendly rivalry and I think I'm actually in love! ARGH, I desperately need a new season.

I'll probably write for the girls, I mean, I could do a test and write for Jaeyi and Seul-gi, idk. I'm just completely in love with these women.

Anyway, don't forget to drink water and stay safe,

xoxo, spider.

[you-wanna-save-the-corn-nuts]

TaiVan Scene Analysis!!

!!Yellowjackets s3 spoilers!!

*cracks knuckles*

So, I was rewatching Yellowjackets instead of paying attention to homework again and got to that lovely scene where Tai approaches Van and goes "Hey if we go back we can't be together anymore can we?" and I was thinking about it in the context of what Liv said about Van making up stories to get herself through things- and while yes, this episode is Van's turning point to realising her little stories could be entirely wrong, she's not quiittteee at that point yet. Before Kodi dies, she's still fine with her self-gaslighting. So, looking at this scene with that lense.....it breaks me, a little bit.

First off:

Look me in the eyes and tell me this ain't other Tai. I'm like 99% certain this conversation is Other Tai which almost makes it more interesting- (bro wrote this before i finished rewatching the scene it was explicitly other tai because the eyeless man is there i forgor) Anyways, Tai and Van are talking:

"Do you really think the world has changed that much?"

"I'm optimistic."

"Why?"

"Because.........me."

When Van says the initial "I'm optimistic" her voice is low, she's sounds a little annoyed, its more of a demand than it is an answer. "this is okay, it has to be okay, we're okay" If she can convince Tai, she's done her job, she's kept everyone happy and positive and safe, and she can believe it too. But when it comes to the "Because......Me" there is a noticeable shift from this stern, demanding tone into something a little softer. You can see her search for a moment, trying to find a reason she can latch onto- but she can't find one, she can't find any reason to think the world is suddenly all good with people like herself and Tai, so she pretty much blatantly says the only reason she has going for her: "Me." because that's what she does. She picks whatever "truths" keep her and everyone else going and doesn't even consider an alternative. The "Me" statement is both a moment of introspect almost, and a callout for the audience to her habits. She's picked her story, that they can go back, and everyone will be fine with them being together, or they can just hide like they did before, and it'll be all good.

And then there's Tai. Standing there, telling her all the reasons, that this inaccurate! She's breaking the illusion! Back off, other Tai! We like denial in this household!! But here's Tai telling her why her stories are wrong and I find Van's reactions incredibly interesting (especially in contrast with their card scene in episode 10)

She's sitting there looking at the invisible camera in the office like "guys are you seeing this-" and at one point, even looks slightly amused. Given what we already know about Van, and how she uses humour as a coping mechanism, I would not put it past her to be a nervous laugher (speaking from personal experience). Van's reaction is akin to if Tai had just said something like "oh btw misty just turned into a squirrel"- she's in disbelief, finds it a little amusing, and slightly stupid. Because to her, the answer is obvious- It's not a problem, its never going to be a problem, we're going home and its all fine.

"Why is nobody thinking about this?"

"Because getting rescued. And going home. Outweighs- all of that."

"So just...go get a bag, and lets put some shit in it!"

Van's line here is pretty reminiscent of how she talks to Travis about eating Javi. It's authoritative, almost rehearsed, like she's said it to herself a million times. "We're getting rescued. We're going home. And don't worry about anything else because this is the only important thing." It's a statement that she could easily tell herself and likely has been telling herself to keep her going. And it's the same thing she'll tell Tai because she's the storyteller, she is the one who keeps them all calm, and that's her job. Just wanted to point out how this plays into my previous Vanalysis about her gaslighting herself with narratives of how everything is justified and will play out fine. Van then directly contrasts this rehearsed, demanding tone with a more lighthearted "go get a bag, lets pack". She's trying to shift the conversation back to "yayyy rescue!!!" because that is the narrative she's decided on and that is the narrative everyone else is gonna hear from her.

And yet, when Tai "walks away" and Van thinks she's alone?

She's pretty distressed (this screenshot doesn't capture it super well but you get the idea). Because Tai is, technically, right. The like....yearish they've been here so far? It's not gonna make a difference to everyone suddenly accepting gay people. Not to mention everything Tai said is technically right- they are all gonna have to be on the same page. They probably will have to kill Kodi and Hannah- And I think this scene overall says a lot about Van as a character and the whole path she's about to go down. The entire time, she's been picking her narrative and sticking to it, she's being firm with others and making sure they're all on the same page, they're all in the same story, so nothing can break the illusion. But that doesn't mean she doesn't hear what the others are saying. She definitely hears it- and then crafts a new story, directly on top of it, and keeps going.

[thesparkinthefire]

Some more notes about the Inside Look footage of Murderbot

I can't stop thinking about this. I also love seeing everyone react to my theories with their own because it make me rethink my theories. Soooo, here we go.

1) PresAux being besties

I love them so so so so so much!!! Look at them! Their little painted habitat. Their colorful clothes. My little space hippies that I need to put in my pocket and keep them save.

Rattih playing his little space-ukulele. Pin-Lee on the drum block thing. I love them! Mensa and Bharadwaj going all out on their dance break. And Gurathin doing his little shimmy in the background - god, he is so awkward I deeply love him. I just know Murderbot is watching this thinking "humans are so fucking weird".

2) Free agent Murderbot

This is probably not a deep cut and kinda obvious but this seems to be the scene after Mensa buys Murderbot and it gets to join the Preservation team in the hotel!!

I loooove that this has been made into a team scene where they all sit together. Look at them all being happy!!! Look at sweet angel Arada bringing Murderbot its own set of Preservation clothes! God, I love them. I love them SO MUCH. Plus their style is chefs kiss!! The costume and concept department deserves the biggest raise. Also love Murderbots look here.

3) 'I sure hope a combat override module isnt making me feel this weird'

Okay, back to the more grim scenes:

Murderbot, it's not looking good. I think this is in the DeltFall habitat after Murderbot gets taken down by the evil SecUnits and Mense saved it. Mense is pulling Murderbot back to the hopper. Poor babygirl (gn) isn't looking too good here. Are those sparks coming from you, Murderbot? I am obsessed with this clip. Osessed with the lighting; Obsessed with Murderbots look; Obsessed with how overwhelming it looks. It seems they perfectly captured how the combar override module and shut-down make it feel.

4) Dr Mensa this is against...

We all know Mensa is a badass girlboss. At first look I thought it was Mensa helping Murderbot at DeltFall - it's in the book, it would make sense. But the more I look at it, especially the background, the more I feel like that's the Preservation habitat or hopper. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's the lighting that's throwing me off (DF is cool tones and dark and blue. This shot is bright and warm thanks to the weapon fire). I'm curious what it ends up being 👀

5) Evil SecUnits!!

Look at these evil SecUnits and their black and blue armor and tell me that's not the sexiest thing you have ever seen! (I'm using sexy very loosely here. To me even a F1 qualifying lap can be sexy.) Incredible design. So so cool!!! And if you have seen my trailer breakdown, I theorized that they might make the evil survey units black as a visual contrast and I am so happy to see I was right!!! I love this design so much. So so much. Once again: The design & costume departments deserve a BIG raise!

Also looking at these screenshots, it seems they take place after this one👇, which means it could be the final confrontation between Evil Survey and Preservation!

6) More of murderbots systems

I love that we get to see some of Murderbots analysis and feed alerts. Attack detacted? Slay. That is so cool I love this visual representation of the data it's getting. So cool. I love this show. I can't wait to watch it. And I can't believe it's already May!!! It's Murderbot May!!! We are so close to getting this. Aaahhh!!!

[witlesswitch]

RadioApple Meets in the 1920s

Lucifer left Hell to raise his daughter somewhere where she would not be exposed to constant danger. Unfortunately, heaven was out of the running, so that left Earth. He surfaced in 1930s New Orleans, Louisiana, and got a job working night at a radio station.

wc: 1.4k

notes: This is the hypothetical first chapter of a fic I am thinking of writing. I have been mostly writing onshots and since I like knowing there are people interested in my work when I do a longfic, I wanted to posted it here to see if anyone would be intereste din reading it./ if so please like and/or relog

one thing about hell, is it is no place to raise a child, especially not an angelic one who's holy power is basically a beacon to the demons until she is able to control it, so Lucifer surfaced to Earth. The year is 1920, the War to End All Wars was complete. Lucifer had to pretend to be a human, so that meant he had to find a job.

As a creative he knew he worked best in a place where he could create without bounds. Based off past experience, Lucifer did very poorly with authority and figured his best bet would be to find a small company that he would work with and be in a position of power.

“Thank you for calling Radiance Hour, if you have a story you would like to share we do request that you mail it-” a Bored sounding man answered the phone

“Good morning, I am Lucifer Mmm… Magne!” Lucifer stumbled over his own name as he realized people had been telling his story in a very negative light and he probably should’ve changed his first name too. But he plowed through hoping the stumble wasn’t too obvious, “I'm calling about the job posting,” Lucifer was holding Charlie on his hip as she played the long cord connecting the phone to the rotary. She had cute little nubbed horns and her tail was wrapped around his leg. While he had not put a glamour on her, he had placed on himself to get used to appearing as a human. His previously white skin he had toned to appear like a pale human, his blond hair continued uninterrupted by any horns and his wings were carefully stored away beneath the skin. Thankfully little Charlie hadn't gone her wings yet since they would be incredibly uncomfortable especially with her little fangs growing in.

“Pleased to meet you, Lucifer! I am Alastor Freedman, host of Moonlit Radiance! You want to work the booth! Do you have prior experience?” The man asked. All boredom leaving his voice as the pitch raised and the speed increased.

“Yes, of course!” Not. Lucifer had no idea. He was lying out of his ass, but he was desperate, and he hasn't human-ed since… Whenever he and Jesus took a break in the desert.

“Well, why don't you come on down to the studio and we'll do a trial show. When are you free? Any time after 7pm?”

“I can come down at 7, but I haven't found my daughter a babysitter yet since we're new in town,” The line went silent, and Lucifer was sure he had blown his chance before the voice came back through the line. The man was probably a great radio host he had a lot of life and personality in his voice. When he wasn’t speaking it was like the listener was just waiting for him to resume. He could read a phone book and make it sound interesting!

“That'll be great! The more the merrier, although this is expensive equipment so, please do mind her.” He was unbearably polite compared to everyone in Hell and Lucifer wasn't sure how he felt about it, but in his gut, he felt like the other shoe could fall any minute now.

-

At 6, Lucifer and Charlie began their trek towards the New Orleans Radiance Studio, otherwise known as NORS. The street was dark and wet, but this was a night show, so it made sense that he would be working late. Lucifer figure that would be easier since he wasn't sure how human his disguised actually looked, so if it was dark, it may be easier to full the human, although he may have forgotten about their recent mastery of electricity. Little Charlie was in her stroller a big round thing that Lucifer found himself using his full body weight (and maybe some angelic power) to prevent it from racing down the hill towards the center of town as they make their ways to the outskirts where the studio address was.

‘knock… knock knock’ Lucifer tapped on the front door. At this hour it had already been locked, as one would expect from a business during the trying time. there's been a couple unexplained disappearances. Lucifer hadn't worried to much he was sure even his daughter could take on a human. (He will go full archangel before he let any being intending harm near his daughter.)

“Who’s there?” A silhouette could be seen through the ribbed glass of the front door.

“Uh, we spoke on the phone earlier. I’m Mr. Magne, you are Mr. Freedman with Radiance, right?”

”Ha! with a name like that I beg you struggled to get a job, but don't worry, we are more than accepting here!” The man’s bright smile ushered him int the dim home, “I'll be frank with you dear, I thought you were some teen prankster!”

Alastor had a lot of enthusiasm that Lucifer normally would've been able to keep up with but this time he felt more like he was caught up in Alastor's current. He led a tour through the partially renovated house, ending with a large backroom on the upstairs where it had been turned into a radio studio booth with inside having a spot for musicians to perform and another area that was fir the host and a possible guest could relax during the interview, and then once the other side was all the technology that Lucifer lied about knowing.

“I know it's a bit outdated compared to the newer models hope they aren't too different,”

“Quite, actually. I'll have to ask for some time I get used to it.” Little Charlie's stroller was left in the foyer and Lucifer held the little girl in his arms wrapped up in her favorite blanket.

“Very well!” Alastor chirped as if he wasn't in need of a booth technician, but Lucifer appreciated the partial lie nonetheless, “Would you like to begin our trial run? The checklist for our show is on that notepad to your left. It has the cues and keyword in the script, and just a general checklist for getting set up.” Alastor’s air of being was so different than everyone. In heaven the angel were so uptight no room for playing around or changing what was expected. Heaven certainly would have let his daughter into a place of business. And then Hell… Well, he wasn't surprised Alastor was nothing like his hellspawn. He was polite with a kind smile, and it made Lucifer feel special even if he knew Alastor probably treated everyone like this, and maybe more humans were like this compared the ones back home.

-

The trial run did not go smoothly. Lucifer couldn't figure out how to strengthen the audio at first, but soon Lucifer was able to recognize the patterns associated with each nob turn and quirk of Alastor's voice. The worst part was that Lucifer had kept Alastor in the studio all night.

“I apologize our trial run went so long and kept you even later,” Lucifer had a fussy Charlie beginning to wake up his arms, “But I think I have the hang of this old version now.” Lucifer made sure her human glamour was it place, but that did not help the pain when she rammed her little dull horns into his ribs, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

“I would've stayed that late anyways, we were on air after all.”

Lucifer’s face fell at the fact that when he had asked if Alastor needed to turn off the “on air” sign, the strange smile he had given him meant that they truly were on the air and it wasn't a trial run at all. The man was nearly frozen with embarrassment. He had done horrible at first and worried he may have actually driven away some of Alastor’s listeners.

“Fret not, little man-”

“Hey!”

“I had been doing it all on my own before you called, my listeners are very understanding. And since you’ve been hired you can only improve withe experience!” Alastor reassured Lucifer; annoyingly he had bent at the waist to talk to Lucifer who was still sitting in the chair where he had operated the sound quality, but Lucifer was too relieved at hearing he had been hired to care much anymore about whatever Alastor had done, “And if your little one always sleeps so well she can continue to stay.”

[swiiivet-screamathon]

"What's got you sitting here then?"

"Ensuring nothing catastrophic occurs and mild amounts of watch duty."

"Is he up to... mild mannered not-worth-standing-up-for trouble?"

"It is him yes, but I wouldn't quite call it trouble, not as of now at least."

Lily sits down next to Pv on the wooden bench, following his eyesight to Crepe's workshop, its large barge doors wide open with dark smoke pouring out and within are two small cookies doing... well, something, it's hard to tell at this distance with it being so obscured.

"That's, not- trouble?" She asks as she lays her head on Pv's shoulder.

"Seems to be working as intended in fact. Crepe knew this would happen and wanted to make sure no one bothered them thinking the place was on fire."

"Because they knew everybody would listen to you?"

"I don't want to be that egotistical, I'm sure our kingdom would listen to Raisin too."

"Hmhm~"

They watch on as they continue working on it, Smilk floating around in circles around Crepe as they both seem to be working on what best can be guessed as some sort of engine.

"I know I'm the problem in this sentiment, but I still can't believe out of all cookies the two of them paired up into what sounds like a functional duo-- You've got any idea how that happened?"

"I wouldn't say I do, probably some curiosity killing cats though."

"Ah, right, of course thats the case. Has he gotten along with anyone else so far?"

"He was certainly less sociable than he is now, that's for sure."

"Not the grandest of friendpools then, huh? More than one is still a positive though."

"Agreed."

"...My mind is just occupied with him now, how funny. After everything we've been through and yet he still manages to be the main character whenever he's around after so much time. You've still not managed to get him into a new set of icing?"

"He's got a loud presence, a good skill for an actor I'd say. Though you are right, I have not."

"Have you tried at all?-- Nevermind, I'm not even sure what I mean with that question; forcing him into a shirt seems very strange hmhm."

"I have asked him, though no forcing anyone in any shirts-- but he seems incredibly apprehensive about it. Every time I get a status update it seems any comment made by anyone of an kind makes him give up on trying for long bouts of time."

"I didn't take 'obvious' to be a trait of his, power of a title I suppose. I've got motivation to throw my hat in the ring though given the circumstances."

"Really? Did your encounter with Salt make you into fashion? :p"

"I suppose fashion tends to aim in the direction of bold, doesn't it? If I can be frank with you though, I think I mostly want to build rapport; bringing the Fount of Knowledge into the modern day sounds quite interesting, and you've sure been taking your sweet time getting him to act in line. ^^"

"Don't be so restrictive on him, and don't let your ulterior motives get the better of you. You're the most curious person I know but you know what happens if you go wild with it."

"Dramatic sigh-- She can be crumbled in the crust for hundreds of years and I will still be haunted by it. /lh I've got little desire to hinder your rehabilitation, I'm just not quite the same kind of altruist as you are. :p"

"If you start studying him like you did in school--"

"Wha~at-- There's no grade on the line, and I'm sure the teacher won't notice."

"No matter the form you take you'll always be a disaster. :D"

"x)"

[ineedseveretherapy]

thanks for the tag @bagels-and-cream-cheese333

Fav character: Leo or Donnie, but for very different reasons. Leo is such a fun character to pick apart and psychoanalyze (not that you can't do that with Donnie, I just love my leo angst) and his complex insecurities are so fun to play off of for me (also personally he's a very easy character to get into the mindset of), also I heavily kin him. But I adore Donnie's chaotic attitude and violent goofy nature, he's more of a comfort character for me personally because every time he's something chaotic or stupid or silly it just makes me giggle (and I know that Leo in Donnie are really popular and overshadow Raph and Mikey but I dunno there's just something about those two that makes them a great punching bag for trauma but also incredibly goofy that just puts an itch in my brain)

Least favorite: Meat Sweats, there's nothing necessarily wrong with him I just find him kind of annoying

Character I think is attractive: DONNIE! DONNIE! DONNIE!!! Also Frida and April, GOD DAMN THEY'RE GORGEOUS. I always have to tell my girlfriend that her competition is a silly little goofy purple turtle with a large ass forehead and long list of federal crimes.

Fav villain: From the show I think i'd be Big Mama because I think she just had so much potential as a villain, but from the movie, the Krang definitely, cuz again I love angst and the Krang sure delivered my angst in the movie

Least Fav villain: Oh uh, does captain Piel count? Idk never really cared about him

Fav duo: Disaster twins, 100% Again I'm sorry I know that like everyone likes them and a lot of people kind of think they're overrated, I don't think that's the right wording. Anyways I'm sticking by my choice because Idk, I think I just I have a thing for the twin dynamic, also since in the actual show Leo was the one that Donnie showed the least affection too, like physical and what not, a lot of it was more sibling banter, which I also love but it also just tugs at my heart everytime I see fanart of Leo breaking down and Donnie comforting him OR DONNIE BREAKING DOWN AND LEO COMFORTING THEM, I just eat it up. But for second it's automatically Brains and Brawns because AHHH there adorable, also cuz of my personal headcanons

Fav Ship: LEOSAGI, KENDRATELLO!!!!!! GOD THOSE TWO SHIPS DESTROY ME AND THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH FANS OF KENDRATELLO!!!!

Why I like Rottmnt: Oh boy, get ready for an infodump. So I always knew about the TMNT franchise since I was really young because my brother was an avid lover of 2012 but it never really caught my eye (but then again I was watching Paw Patrol at that age so, yeah). Plus I think I remember watching a clip from the high school dance episode on youtube when I was bored. But I truly discovered Rise last year while I was watching tiktok compilations on spotify, I saw it and like I was intrigued by all the angst stuff so I looked it up on youtube and here I am. From an artistic standpoint the show is just beautiful and great to look at. The colors, the animation, the character designs, the style, it's all amazing! Also the comedy, which people tend to compare to Teen Titans Go. Which is not true because while yes it is silly and goofy, it's humor is done in the right way and it's also so much than that. Now the biggest reason for me is the psychology, if that makes sense. I love shows with complex arcs, character dynamics, and storylines, things I can really pick apart and play with. But out of those 3 things the most interesting thing for me is character dynamics. In Rise (I only have 2012 to compare it to since that's only other one if watched a good amount of), you can tell all the brothers love each other, that splinter loves them and that they love splinter. They have a strong bond that's affected in so many different ways due to there contrasting personalities and insecurities and what not, it makes for such compelling sibling dynamics because it's so obvious that they all love each other, but they don't always like each other, sometimes they can all be really annoying and I just adore how accurately the show portrays sibling dynamics. I love my brother so much, put that doesn't mean that we haven't fought and been nothing but a pain in each others asses, he was sure a pain in my ass all of last year, but it doesn't matter because he's my brother. Now comparing this to 2012 which I've watched like 4 out of the 7 seasons of, I did not like the turtles dynamics. Now recently I did see someone pointing out that while Rise portrays healthy sibling dynamics, 2012 portrays toxic ones, and I had never thought of that before which really gave me a new respect for the show. But I still don't like the dynamics, I hate how everyone shits on Raph's anger problems, I hate how everyone always plays Mikey off as stupid and reckless, I HATE DONNIE'S WHOLE PERSONALITY AND HOW HE TREATS APRIL, and I dunno, I don't think I have a problem with Leo, I haven't watched the show in a while so I might be wrong, I also don't like the way Splinter acts towards the boys. AND I'M NOT SAYING THAT 2012 IS A BAD SHOW!! IT'S A GREAT SHOW!! I think the storylines are cool, I think the villains are incredible, I adore Casey and Karai (April can go find a hole to wither away in), the action is amazing, and yes the dynamics are very complex, just not complex in the way I personally like but that doesn't mean their not good. Uh... I just realized how long this was... welp! I'm done anyways!

Sorry for the rambling, anywho here's the tags!!! @bootyshakerrr9000, @lowkey-loki245, @ellie11x-x, @lowkey-loki245, @eggbem, @mysticclementine

Calling all ROTTMNT fans

Hi i'm new and I've been seeing these on Tumblr, so I thought to do one :) Btw tag your Rottmnt friends to do this to!

Favorite Character and 1 reason why: (Mine is Donnie because he's funny XD)

Least Favorite Character and 1 reason why: (Mine is the Leader of the Kraang bc of what he did to Leo..)

A character you think is attractive(Can skip if you don't have one): (Mine is DONNIE >:))

Favorite Villain: (Mine is Kendra, or Big Mama)

Least Favorite Villain: (Mine is same as my least fav character)

Favorite Duo: (Mine is DISASTER TWINS)

Favorite Ship: (None tbh)

2 reasons why you like Rottmnt :3: (Mine is because it's a genuinely funny show, the humor in it is great, and the characters are so well done.)

Your tags: (Mine: @donniecrazy20, @geese-ball, @mycomars, @tonystarkwasrobbed, @ihateitallsomerandomguy, @yourlocalmia, @sockkllyy, @strawberryswirl4321)

[luna-the-cretar]

YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST FUCKIN REALIZED

Out of the 4 Avantris lizard men, we have 2 that have fuckin Voodoo shadow magic (both of which, coincidentally, are played by Richie—Mr ‘lizardfolk warlock that I’m pretty certain work under the same being’), and 2 that have fire magic (Taishen—who is coincidentally played by Mace and ends up acting like a walking lighter anyway—and Sarnax)

And also, course, Sarnax and Kremy with their red Yonan boyfriends who have a tendency to run hot because of their respective heritages

[snzluv3r]

i actually feel so incredibly uncomfortable and isolated in this space right now and i know that’s silly because of how many people there are just like me who share the same feelings but idk…the fact that people even think this is defensible behavior is making me feel sick

[roboyomo]

about to go sleepyy but. Insane Kenix Thoughts (Again! An Another Time!) (How Many Fucking Times!— ^_^)

Something about Kenix comforting Sora the day she joined the sins crew while she was full on crying and confused at everything surrounding her. Something about him Resonating with a child's helplessness, offer a warm embrace to hold onto. Did you see your own past self in that girl? The days where you were left all alone in the dark, being able to only weep and wonder why everything around you was like this. Yet you had no one's shoulder to cry onto. You had no one by your side, and now you have decided to be that someone for an another lost kid. Have you seen your own desperation in that child, wanting to help her because deep down you know how scarring this situation is for her? To seek comfort despite the unknown environment, because you wanted someone to let you know it is safe?

Have you wanted to save someone from what you had to endure yourself because you just knew how deeply terrifying it must all be to experience such loneliness at a young age? Have you just wanted to not let someone else go through what you had to? Have you just wanted to show the lost child that compassion that you didn't get yourself when you needed it the most.

[dollypopup]

y'all can all cancel me (again) for this, but if there's even a SHRED of 'who should I pick?' from Penelope in season 3, I am tuning out SO fast because like. . .sorry not sorry, there IS no choice. Debling is some crusty OC suitor she barely even knows and Colin is a man who she has been so supposedly in love with to the point where she'd ruin her entire family's reputation to have a potential love story with him. Penelope and Colin have background, years of knowing each other, intimacy that few people in the Ton can boast of having (letters, conversations about purpose, fights and arguments and makeups) and her and Debling have. . .a dance or two at a ball because he's a rebound for Penelope's broken heart. he means nothing. he has no nuance, he has no weight to the story, he is such an afterthought to me. either I wanna see Penelope going 'you know what? I don't even LIKE this dude. he's. . .fine, but I don't care about him even a shred as much as I care about Colin' or the INSTANT Colin's like 'you know what? we should get married' if it's not an immediate 'say less, you're already my husband, try returning me without the receipt, Debling whomst?' then I don't want it!

like. . .it's just so frustrating to see all the 'I hope Debling sweeps her off her feet and she rejects Colin's proposal and she makes him work for it and and and-' nonsense from the fandom and it's always tagged and no matter how many times I block it, it just keeps popping up. I go into the Polin tag for POLIN. I don't give a SHIT about a male love interest other than Colin. Not one. Not a shred. Not an iota.

and also. . .Debling has the 'benefit' of not having depth, or character traits, or HISTORY, so peeps can project onto him however they want, but I'm calling it now, there is NOTHING he could do or be that would make me like him more than Colin. Colin will always hit different, and I will always love him more. and if Pen's not on that same page? lol bye

you want me to believe Penelope and Colin are soulmates and it's romance for her to hem and haw about how difficult a decision it is for her to marry a stranger who knows barely anything about her. . .

when Marina was out here dropping banger lines like 'You were the only man with which I could see myself being happy' and 'I do not care about any of these men, where is Colin?'? like hello??? and she wasn't even fully in love with him!!!! but we'll demonize her until the cows come home in our fandom and make her the villain in Polin's love story for DARING to get in between Polin, yet Debling, a white man, is a darling dear perfect prince for getting in between Polin? existing in our fandom solely so Penelope can be like 'lol, Colin ain't shit, let me entertain any and everyone else'?

if that's the direction it goes then, ten toes down and on my mama, she doesn't deserve Colin and she can move because I'm on my way to court him my damn self

and that's that on that

[scentofpines]

my brother is visiting us again and i'm soooo fucking doneeee he is so annoying omg

[keeps-ache]

this might have been the baby brain that helped form this opinion but i'm pretty sure the best thing i've ever tasted was some tomato juice in an aluminum can when i was prolly 3-4 years old. literally the most amazing thing on the planet but i could Not tell you what it actually tasted like

[romanromulus]

joyce carol oates I rebuke you. I rebuke you

[greatandholypangolin]

so whenever DDVAU comes out I screenshot everything that makes my brain itch and then send it to my friends with an explanation of why the particular bit makes me happy and I was looking through my scrumped list and I was like “oh wait, artists (@kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 in this case) actually like knowing what people think and like about your art especially specific details maybe possible perhaps” so I’m being brave and pasting exactly what I said to my friends into here with no rewriting for the sake of keeping them as my raw thoughts. Let the post go where it does I guess (all art is from DDVAU if that wasn’t obvious)

Favourite faces collection (impeccable art style that I will never stop complimenting oh my god I love all of the lil fellas)

I like the little pinky/yellow tones or tint or smth it all seems so peaceful and domestic and a little warm and it’ll be absolutely fine and lovely and sweet slice of life for the whole comic right? right? right? right? right? right?

Already said I love how they’ve designed speaking over. It’s just so effortless and clear idk. Also little note of appreciation for grian’s hand, that’s a shitfuckery perspective and a very well drawn hand. Also really realistic and fluid pose?? They’re just incredibly believable characters and movements, sometimes I genuinely forget they’re still frames and not an animation when I think about it. Do you think they actually pose and use that as a reference or do they just know exactly who their blorbos are and how they present themselves without actually acting it out???? Geniuses. Geni-i. Like octopi but. ok I’ll leave I know when I’m not wanted

Look at this happy and relaxed guy with his cousin he’s so himself and at ease. Seeing grian happy and human and totally himself means so much to me (favourite faces collection)

Favourite faces collection

HI CORNER GEM I HOPE YOU FEEL LOVED (me) (I’m the one) (ily corner gem) (and centre gem presumably idk she’s not here)

I know it’s tango. You know its tango. I don’t even need to say it. Camptain ombvious. however I am very happy they included ranchers thank you doody and maru sending you angels wherever you may be

Oh he could be a father so good I don’t usually see things and go “they’re parental potential”, not because they wouldn’t, it just isn’t something that crosses my mind. He, however, would make a great father and this frame made that thought fizz into my head

Thoroughly enjoyable section, made me smile

Love love LOVE how the thing grips the actual corner of his comic panel as it drags itself forwards

I’ve never not been in awe of this comic, but this is one of those times I’m especially in awe. Hi. Hello. Hi.

Love how the room zoom out was used, he looks so isolated and quietly afraid even though you don’t see his face, especially with the speech bubbles drifting around like that. Very well designed top tier 10/10

[incognit0slut]

Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.