#I/me/myself is simply immaculate

[poisonedbeyondrepair]

I wanna personally thank fic writers and people sharing their playlists for introducing me to Will Wood. I would have never found this artist otherwise! And my life is better for it

[neonjazzparty]

Finally updated my Meet the Artist

Fun fact: I am not a person but a concept

[aberooski]

Replaying Shadow of the Colossus again for the first time in an astounding SIX YEARS somehow??? And I'm 10 colossi down, 6 to go, and AUGH it just feels like home being back I love this game so much 🥰🥰🥰

[yourmomsawh0r3]

expecting

pairing: benedict bridgerton x f! wife reader

The soft morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a warm glow across the grand bedchamber. Y/N stirred beneath the covers, her mind slowly rousing from the depths of sleep. She stretched her hand to the other side of the bed, expecting to find the familiar warmth of her husband, but instead, her fingers brushed against cold, empty sheets. Benedict had already risen, most likely absorbed in his work within the confines of his study.

She lingered in bed, her thoughts muddled by the lingering remnants of slumber, until a sharp pang of anxiety tightened in her chest. For several days now, a persistent worry had taken root within her, growing with each passing hour. She hesitated before throwing back the covers, her heart heavy with apprehension. Y/N’s gaze fell upon the bed linens, scrutinizing them with bated breath.

The sheets were immaculate, untouched by the crimson hue she had half-expected, half-dreaded to see. Her heart sank, frustration welling within her as she realized the implications. Another morning, another check, and still no sign of her monthly course. The absence of blood was both a blessing and a curse, for she knew what it likely meant.

They were still newlyweds, just months into their marriage, and while they had spoken of starting a family, Y/N had envisioned more time to enjoy their youthful union before the responsibilities of parenthood descended upon them. The thought of carrying Benedict’s child filled her with equal parts joy and trepidation. Was it too soon? Would he be ready for such a change, for the duties and demands that would come with fatherhood?

She rose from the bed, her movements languid as she wrapped her robe around herself. The silk fabric felt cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth she yearned to feel. Y/N padded down the long hallway, her feet silent on the plush carpet as she made her way to Benedict’s study. She could hear the familiar sound of his pencil scratching against parchment, the melody of his creative process.

She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of her husband. Benedict was bent over his work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sketched, utterly absorbed in his task. Despite the seriousness of his expression, there was an undeniable gentleness about him that made her heart swell with love.

For a moment, Y/N considered turning away, letting him remain in his world of art and imagination, but she knew she couldn’t delay the conversation any longer. The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she needed to confide in him, to share her fears and hopes.

“Benedict,” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up immediately, his features softening the moment his eyes met hers. A warm smile spread across his face, and he set his pencil aside, rising from his chair to greet her.

“Good morrow, my love,” he said, his voice filled with affection as he crossed the room to her. “I did not intend to wake you so early.”

“You did not wake me,” Y/N replied, attempting a smile as she stepped closer to him. “I simply found myself alone in our bed and wondered where you might be.”

Benedict wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. “My mind was alight with ideas,” he explained, his tone light and teasing. “I had to capture them before they faded away like the morning mist.”

Y/N rested her head against his chest, her ear pressed to his heart. The steady rhythm soothed her, but the anxiety in her own chest remained. She knew she couldn’t keep her secret any longer. “Benedict, I must speak with you about something of great importance.”

He pulled back slightly, concern flickering in his blue eyes. “What is it, dearest? You seem troubled.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her hands gripping the lapels of his dressing gown as she gathered the courage to speak. “I have missed my monthly course,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “It has been late for several days now, and I believe I may be with child.”

The words hung in the air, a delicate truth that had the power to alter their lives forever. Y/N braced herself for Benedict’s reaction, her heart pounding in her chest. She feared he might be taken aback, that the prospect of fatherhood might overwhelm him, especially so soon after their marriage.

But to her surprise, Benedict’s expression changed not to one of shock or apprehension, but to one of pure, unadulterated joy. His eyes widened, and a broad smile broke across his face as he processed her words.

“You think…?” he stammered, his voice laced with wonder. “You believe you carry our child?”

Y/N nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she watched the happiness unfold across his face. “I did not know how to tell you… I feared it might be too soon, that you would be unprepared…”

Benedict’s hands cupped her face, his touch tender as he gazed down at her with all the love in his heart. “Too soon?” he echoed, his voice filled with emotion. “My love, there could be no greater news in the world. You have just given me the most precious gift I could ever receive.”

Before she could respond, Benedict swept her up into his arms, spinning her around in a joyful circle. Y/N’s laughter mingled with his, the sound of their happiness filling the room. When he finally set her down, he held her close, his forehead resting against hers as he whispered, “We are to be parents, Y/N. I can scarcely believe it.”

Y/N’s tears spilled over, but they were tears of relief, of joy, of overwhelming love. She pulled him into a deep kiss, pouring all of her emotions into the tender embrace. When they finally parted, she looked up at him, her heart full to bursting. “I love you, Benedict,” she whispered. “And I am so grateful that we will embark on this journey together.”

Benedict’s arms tightened around her, his voice a soft murmur in her ear. “I love you more than words can express. You will be the most wonderful mother, and I will strive every day to be the father our child deserves.”

As they stood there in the warmth of the study, wrapped in each other’s embrace, Y/N knew that whatever fears she had harbored had been unfounded. Benedict’s love for her was unwavering.

A few weeks had passed since Y/N had first shared the news with Benedict, and their excitement had only grown with each day. Though they had reveled in the secret together, they both knew it was time to share the joy with their families. The Bridgerton clan was nothing if not close-knit, and such news was sure to be met with elation.

The day was sunny, with a pleasant breeze that made the leaves rustle in the grand trees lining the estate. The entire Bridgerton family was gathered in the drawing room of Aubrey Hall, the laughter and chatter filling the air as the siblings exchanged stories and playful jests. It was a rare occasion when they were all together, and Benedict couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth as he looked around the room.

Y/N sat beside him, her hand resting in his, their fingers intertwined. She was calm on the surface, but he could sense the slight tremor in her hand, the only sign of her nerves. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, meeting her eyes with a smile that spoke of all the love and support he had for her.

Finally, when there was a lull in the conversation, Benedict cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. “If I may have your attention, everyone,” he began, his voice carrying a note of seriousness that was unusual in their light-hearted gatherings.

The room quieted, all eyes turning to Benedict and Y/N. There was a mixture of curiosity and concern in their expressions, each sibling wondering what news might be so important.

“We have something we would like to share with you all,” Benedict continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. He glanced at Y/N, his gaze filled with encouragement. She nodded, and together, they turned back to the family.

“We are with child,” Y/N announced, her voice soft but clear.

For a moment, there was silence as the words sank in. Then, as if on cue, the room erupted in a chorus of exclamations, cheers, and laughter. Daphne, ever the nurturing one, was the first to rush forward, her face alight with joy as she embraced Y/N.

“Oh, Y/N! That is the most wonderful news!” Daphne exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “You are going to make such a wonderful mother.”

The rest of the siblings quickly followed suit, surrounding the couple with congratulations and hugs. Even Anthony, who often took on the role of the stern eldest brother, couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face.

“Well done, brother,” he said, clapping Benedict on the shoulder. “You’ve managed to outdo yourself this time.”

“Thank you, Anthony,” Benedict replied with a grin, knowing that beneath his brother’s teasing exterior, there was deep affection.

Violet, their mother, had tears in her eyes as she enveloped Y/N in a warm embrace. “My dear, I am so happy for you both,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You are bringing such joy to this family.”

Y/N felt overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support. She had known that the Bridgertons would be thrilled, but the reality of it was even more touching than she had imagined. Benedict stood beside her, his arm around her waist, his pride and happiness evident in every gesture.

The rest of the day was filled with celebration. The family insisted on toasting the couple’s happiness, and there was much talk of the future, of names and nurseries, of the roles each sibling would play in the life of the new addition. Colin, ever the joker, made a grand show of predicting whether it would be a boy or a girl, while Eloise teased that she would teach the child all the ways of mischief.

As the evening drew to a close and the family began to disperse, Benedict and Y/N found themselves alone in the garden, the quiet night a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of earlier. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, and the soft rustle of the leaves provided a gentle melody to their solitude.

Benedict turned to Y/N, his expression tender as he took her hands in his. “Are you pleased, my love?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.

“More than I could ever put into words,” she replied, her heart full to bursting with the love she felt for him and for the family they were building together.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “We are going to be wonderful parents, Y/N,” he murmured against her skin. “And our child will be surrounded by so much love. I cannot wait to begin this new chapter with you.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, not of sadness but of overwhelming joy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close as she whispered, “Nor can I, Benedict. Nor can I.”

And so, beneath the canopy of stars, they stood together, holding each other close as they looked forward to the future, their hearts filled with the promise of the life they would share a life of love, of family, and of unbreakable bonds.

[seventeenpins]

⁵⁾ pressing the pads of their fingers into their lips in the aftermath, like they’re either trying to capture the feeling or banish it from memory

with x1!Logan pretty plssssss 😏

YES Ozzie omg thank you I love this ❤️

Forbidden Fruit

pairing: dbf!Logan x neighbor!reader word count: 3.4k summary: You’re a little obsessed with your attractive new neighbor. Unfortunately, he’s quite a bit older than you... And your dad's new best friend. content/warnings: non-mutant AU, unspecified age gap, written as x1 Logan, Scott is your dad (sorry), silence of the lambs spoilers???, yearning, tbh yall are as bad as each other, smut a/n: lmao this was supposed to be a drabble 🤷 ty to @ozarkthedog, the most perfect human 🩷

There’s a party roaring outside. As a general rule, your dad doesn’t like to throw parties often, but when he meets the man who’s moving in next door, he announces to you his plan. “Hosting a new neighbor helps to establish a good relationship!” he insists, and that’s that.

You’re sat in the living room, the space dimly lit, nursing a Pabst Blue Ribbon as the glow of your latest Blockbuster rental illuminates your face.

"You even old enough to drink?" comes a voice just outside the door frame. 

You jump, beer sloshing gracelessly down your front. You turn to him, glowering. He’s silhouetted from the hallway and you can’t make out his face. “Yep,” you tell him, “I just have an immaculate skincare routine. Keeps me youthful.”

“So you’re hiding inside… because?”

You shrug. “Just like time to myself.”

He nods, and then strides over. He takes a seat beside you.

“Who are you, exactly?” you frown, looking him up and down.

“You mind?” he asks, smirking as he wiggles the beer you didn’t realize he was holding and nods towards the bottle opener. The audacity.

You glare and grab the bottle opener. He holds his hand out for it, but you withdraw. 

“Logan,” he laughs, “Logan Howlett. I just moved in next door.”

“Oh,” you drop the bottle opener into his hand, remembering your dad’s words. Establish a good relationship. “Oh, yeah, my dad was really excited about the party. Hope you’re enjoying it.”

His eyebrows raise. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Scott Summers.”

“No shit,” he frowns, “That guy sends a lot of emails.”

“That he does.”

Logan pops his bottle open. “Mind some company?”

“Long as you don’t mind watching Silence of the Lambs starting part way through.”

“Ohhhhh yeah, has he asked for a quid pro quo yet?”

“Aahh, a connoisseur,” you grin, “Yeah, just got past that part. I can rewind–”

“Nah,” he shrugs, “Let it play.”

You watch for a while in silence, but then start chatting again, swapping mundane questions. 

“So, Scott’s your dad, huh?” he asks, after a while.

“He sure is.”

“When he said he had a daughter, I guess I assumed someone younger.”

“Same skincare routine,” you deadpan.

He closes his eyes, holding back a laugh as he shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh, “Yeah, he was still pretty young when I was born.”

“And what about…” he trails off, suddenly realizing tact may be appreciated.

“Dad’s a widower,” you explain simply.

Logan nods. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You sit in silence for a moment, watching as Lecter is revealed to be wearing the guard’s face.

“How about you?” you ask, “You got a wife? Husband? Girlfriend? Partner?--”

He turns to look at you and you peter off. “Nope.” 

There’s something in the way he’s looking at you. You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive, or if you’re reading into things. Maybe it’s just the reflecting light making his eyes look more provocative than he intends.

Either way, you feel your heartbeat surge and your stomach flip.

You turn away and try to affect nonchalance, try not to be suddenly mesmerized by this unexpected plot twist that is Logan. The movie is wrapping up, Clarice taking Lecter’s call as he pursues Chilton. You try to focus on it, the score, the costumes– but instead you notice the way he smells, musky and a little sweaty. It’s nice. A little dizzying.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Hmm?”

"You have any kids?" you ask, and immediately wonder if you waited too long to carry on the conversation.

"Shit," he snorts and shakes his head, "I hope not."

It takes you off guard. You burst out laughing.

He huffs, lifting the beer to his lips to hide a smile.

The credits begin to roll over the ending scene. 

With the bottle drained, he pats his thighs and stands up. "Alright, kid," he says, "I probably shouldn’t hide in here any longer.”

“My dad appreciates it,” you tell him, “Don’t wanna give him a heart attack when his guest of honor is nowhere to be found, soon to be discovered with his delinquent daughter.”

He picks up his empty and shakes his head, heading back outside. He calls back, “Oh, you’re trouble.”

Now that you’ve met him, you can’t get him out of your mind. 

When you see him again, a couple days later in daylight this time, you have to pick your jaw up off the ground. He’s taller than you realize, and he’s fucking built. And fuck, he’s handsome too. When he sees you, he waves a hand. “Hey Trouble,” he calls, “Keepin’ your nose clean?”

Weeks pass, and, much to your delight (and, admittedly, despair), your dad and Logan become close. 

Sundays become your favorite day. Sunday, you discover, is the day you can see Logan through your window, chopping a seemingly endless stack of firewood. 

One time, he catches you watching. To your utter shock, he winks at you. Knowing your eyes are on him, he lifts the hem of his beater to wipe his brow, and shoots you a shit-eating grin.

You had plans but that doesn’t matter now. All you can do is shove your hand into your panties and rub circles around your throbbing little clit until you cum with a muffled sigh, knowing he’s outside. Knowing there’s not more than a fence and a few feet between you.

Almost every night, his fire pit is alight and you see him reading, or strumming his guitar, or fucking whittling, serene in the smouldering glow, till the fire burns out and the night turns too cool to enjoy.

As the weeks pass, he’s at your house more and more. You wish your heart would stop doing flips whenever you see him on the sofa next to your dad, beer in hand, laughing at some story that’s being recounted.

He says hello to you each time he sees you, and always asks after you when you’re out.

“Oh, Logan says hi,” your dad will say over his morning toast, “Why does he call you Trouble? Tell me you haven’t been besmirching the Summers name?”

“Nah,” you grin, “Just the littlest besmirchment, at worst.”

His eyes narrow.

“C’mon, now, we want to-”

“Establish a good relationship!” you finish, grinning at the way he scowls.

“Smartass.”

“Hey, Trouble,” he’ll greet you, whenever you find him at your home.

“Hey neighbor.”

“You bein’ good?” he’ll ask.

“‘Course not,” you’ll wink, “Where’s the fun in that?”

You love that he calls you Trouble. That he has a name, just for you. It feels like it could almost be something, and so it’s almost enough. 

Before long, what you’d once feared was a one-sided attraction begins to morph into something different. 

It’s a Saturday, and you decide to wear a cute little dress. It’s a flowy thing that hugs all your curves in the very best way, hem barely falling past the curve of your ass.

Your dad just popped out for another six-pack, and you’re in the kitchen, making pasta salad. With your father gone, Logan isn’t subtle in the way he looks at you. You delight in how his eyes linger at the curve of your hip, the swell of your chest. It feels like a victory, the way he grits his jaw a little when you lean forward, cleavage on full display.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ wearing a naughty little dress like that?” Logan asks, scowling.

You raise an eyebrow and try not to let the way your heart starts to flutter affect you. “Thought you’d figured it out on day one – I’m trouble.”

He looks you up and down, his gaze lascivious. It’s the boldness of it. The two of you are alone, and you both know it.

“I think you like it,” you narrow your eyes.

He’s silent for a long moment. Then he lets out a deep breath. 

“God help me, I do.”

“Why don’t you do something about it?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but then you both hear the latch, and the front door swings open.

Logan sits back, pretending as though nothing just happened.

You turn back to your salad.

You can see Logan in the sitting room, right in your line of sight. Your dad sits across from him, his back towards you. 

If you’re honest, you’re not sure exactly what compels you. 

You turn to face Logan, wave for him to catch your eye. He does, quickly, immediately attuned to you. Your dad doesn’t notice the way his eyes follow you. You hold a finger to your lips. His eyes dart between you and your dad, and he tries to focus on whatever his friend is saying to him. 

Slowly, you slip one strap down, and then the other. You can hear Logan’s breath hitch, which he covers almost believably with a gulp of his beer. Shimmying the bodice just a little, you expose your cleavage to near-dangerous depths. He’s grinding his teeth now, and it feels like victory.

Quickly, silently, you slip your top all the way down, exposing your breasts to the cool kitchen air. Your nipples, already hard, tighten. Logan is holding his can so tightly he’s crushing it in his fist. 

“You okay, buddy?” you hear your dad say, and you can practically hear the frown in his voice. In a couple of quick movements, you slip your top back up and turn back to your salad.

“Huh?” Logan asks quickly, and then looks at his beer. “Oh, shit–!” he grumbles, relaxing his grip gingerly.

It’s not till an hour later that your dad stands up and announces, “I’ll be right back, gonna hit the head.”

When he’s gone, Logan bolts up and marches over to you.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” he demands.

You shrug and, not so subtly, glance down at his crotch. You smirk at the way the front is tenting. Logan stares daggers as he adjusts himself, better hiding his hard-on.

“Some of you seems to like it,” you point out.

“Out here? With him here? You want your daddy to kill me?”

“No,” you promise, “No, I just want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ you’re trouble–”

You both hear a toilet flush, and, moments later, footsteps descend on the stairs.

Logan adjusts himself again, and you blow him a kiss as he tromps back to his seat.

It’s a week before you see Logan again. He’s working late this week, apparently. Or maybe he’s just keeping his distance from you.

On Friday night, you debate going out. It’s been a while, and you could use a chance to unwind. But drinks are expensive, and– and you see a fire out your window. Logan sits out by his fire pit.

Without thinking, you put on your shoes.

It’s late, but not too late. Your dad’s on his recliner, game on TV, newspaper in hand.

“You headin’ out, kiddo?” he asks.

“Yep,” you lie, “Meeting a couple friends downtown. They’re picking me up!”

“Stay safe,” he calls after you, “Call me if you need a ride.”

“I will,” you tell him. “Don’t know if I’ll be home tonight. Don’t wait up for me!”

You head out of the house and through your neighbor’s gate. 

Logan is golden, illuminated in the glow of the flames. He’s whittling something, angrily.

You realize then that your entrance has been near-silent on the soft grass. “Uh,” you clear you throat and knock on his fence as you approach him. “Hey, there, neighbor!”

Logan looks up and frowns when he sees you.

“You are makin’ me crazy, Trouble.” he huffs.

“Like, in a good way?” you ask.

He glares at you.

You come closer. “Can I sit?”

Logan budges up, putting down his whittling tools.

“So…” you venture “Am I more trouble than I’m worth?”

Logan scoffs.

“Nah.” he concedes, “I just don’t wanna make things complicated.”

You shrug. “They’re already complicated. You’ve seen my tits.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Goddammit, Trouble. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“They’re great tits,” you shrug.

“They are great tits.” Logan agrees.

The fire is crackling and the night is clear, stars hanging above you. You've been sitting side by side, quiet.

You don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn't anything to say. You’ve been patient, dammit. You just need to leap.

You pull him towards you and he moves without resistance.

He growls into your mouth, a needy animal sound. The scruff of his beard feels nice against your chin and you’re dizzy with his proximity, with his lips on yours.

After an eternity in the space of a single moment, you pull apart.

Logan stares at you, overwhelmed. His eyes are dark, his kiss-glistened lips catching the light as the fire dances. 

He presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips in the aftermath, as though either trying to capture the feeling, or banish it from memory.

Then, after a long moment, he’s on you. His hands grip you, grasp you, trace the shape of your body as though memorizing it by touch alone. 

“Inside. Now.” he growls, “Out here you’re askin’ for your daddy to catch us.”

You’re barely through the door before Logan is tugging at your clothes. You help him pull your top above your head, and you fumble with the button of your jeans as he unhooks his belt and yanks off his beater.

In a matter of moments, you’re both fully bare. His skin is hot against yours as he holds you to him, caging you against the door as he drags his teeth along your shoulder. His hard cock hangs against your thigh, heavy and thick and leaking.

Your clothes trail from the front door to his sofa. You don’t make it any further than that.

You’re a ticking time bomb, a siren, pulling him in, driving him wild. He wants and wants and wants, more than he ever knew he could. So much could be ruined; his friendship with your dad, the scrap of reputation he’s been building, his new life in this new place—

But now his want has turned into a need, and feeling you soft and pliant and oh so willing against him, he’d be a fool to turn back now.

Logan’s gropes at you, fingernails digging into the swell of your ass before cupping your pussy in one large palm. Rubbing up and down your cunt, he smears your wetness around.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he gasps. “Prettiest pussy I’ve seen.” 

Then he dips a finger into you and you groan and clench around it. He fucks you with it, deep, gentle strokes. He wasn’t wrong. As he fucks you with his finger, you feel how unbelievably wet you are. When he pulls back for a moment, you can see his hand is glistening with you, drips going all the way to his wrist.

“I can take more,” you promise, and he growls. 

“Can’t say shit like that,” he pants, “You’re sure you can take more. Can you take me? Don’t wanna hurt–”

“I can take you,” you assure him. If you’re honest, you don’t know if you can. What you do know is that you’re sure as fuck gonna try.

“How do you want me?” he asks, fighting to maintain the last shreds of his self-control.

Ever the masochist, “Want you on top of me, my ankles round your shoulders. Need you deep.”

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

You lay back as he positions himself between your thighs. He presses a kiss to your left thigh before he hikes it over his right shoulder, and a kiss to your right calf, folding you in half.

He strokes the dripping head of his cock against your folds.

“You ready?” he asks, and you whine in desperation, nodding a yes.

He presses in, notching the tip inside. You groan at the sensation, relaxing into it as he rocks his hips gently.

“Doin’ so good,” he praises, “I know, baby, it’s a lot.”

You writhe and moan. It is a lot, but you still want more. More of his cock, of his hands on your body, of his praise.

“Taking it so well,” he soothes, letting his cock slide that little bit deeper inside, pulling most of the way out and driving back in, pressing whispers in your ear as he fucks into you.

When his pelvis is pressed flush against you, he lets out a sigh. 

“Look at that,” he huffs, “Takin’ all of me.”

You look down and watch enraptured as he pulls out and presses back in, deeper than you ever imagined, and rolls his hips, coarse hair grinding against your clit and making you howl.

”Keep making those pretty noises for me, honey.”

”Need more-“ you beg.

He starts rocking his hips, building a solid rhythm. His strokes are deep and devastating, and with every thrust you can feel your wetness start to flood down your thighs and cream around the base of his cock.

The wetter you get, the harder he fucks into you, each plunge punctuated with your cries, of “Yes!”, “More—“, “Please, Logan, please—“

Generous to a fault, he gives you everything you beg for.

The frustration of these longing, pent-up weeks is almost a forgotten memory. As you build towards the peak of your pleasure, the man above you is an animal. He grunts and pants and fucks you deeper than you knew possible. Your whines and cries and demands taper off, replaced by soft moans that start to swell as he litters your collarbone with kisses and rubs a calloused thumb against your clit.

”I’m—“ you warn, struggling to form words, “I’m gonna—“

 “‘M close too,” he grunts, “Give it to me, baby, need to feel you— Please, baby—“

With his words and a firm press to your clit, you come with a sob, cunt squeezing around him in pulsing contractions.

He fucks you through it, muttering a steady stream of filth the whole time. “That’s it, that’s it, fuck you’re gushing, soaking this cock. You feel so fucking good, tight little thing stretched so nice around me, taking it all like you’re made for it—”

Before you can even get over the first climax, the second starts to build. Logan can feel the way your pussy twitches for him, the way your breath shudders as he drives into you with staggering thrusts.

”Gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He growls. “Good-“ a thrust, “fucking—“, thrust, “girl—“ thrust, “Just can’t get enough of this cock, can you?”

You try to answer, but all that comes out is a cry as another orgasm overtakes you.

"That’s it,” the praises, still punctuating every word with a thrust, “That’s it! Let yourself feel it, let yourself feel good—"

You do, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. It’s overwhelming, the way it tears through you with no end in sight.

When he finally pulls out of you, you start to come back to yourself, your life-changing orgasm starting to wane.

He’s beautiful above you, covered in sweat, your wetness dripping down his thighs as he strokes his creamy cock.

With a groan, he comes on your stomach. You wrap your hand around his, stroking him gently till every drop is spent.

You make room for him on the sofa, uncaring that both of you are covered in sweat and fluids, and pull him down to rest in your arms.

"Fuck—" he exhales, and finally turns to face you again.

You stroke your fingers through your mussed hair.

"I knew you were trouble,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your sternum.

There are so many things you’ll need to talk about, to work through. You are neighbors, after all, and you can’t do something like this without there being an aftermath.

But whatever is next can wait till morning.

Gently, he pulls himself up, and you with him. Holding each other close, you head to his bedroom. Without a word, you lay together, curled up in one another’s embrace.

He’s silent a long moment before speaking. "Is your daddy expecting you home tonight?” He asks. Neither of you want to think about that.

But thankfully, “No,” you tell him. “Told him not to wait up.”

"Oh, optimistic, were we?” He teases, and you look him up and down. His broad shoulders, sculpted chest, dark eyes, rumpled hair. This man you’ve grown so very fond of. 

“Yes,” you smile. “Yes, we are.”

Scott finds out, like, a day later and declares Logan his sworn enemy

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM NORMAL PEOPLE *  assorted dialogue from the book by sally rooney, some lines slightly changed to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary

i'm not a religious person, but i do sometimes think god made you from me.

i have a sense that real life is happening somewhere far away, happening without me, and i don't know if i will ever found out where it is or become part of it.

no one can be independent of other people completely.

life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.

he probably won't come back.

what we have now, we can never have back again.

for me, the pain of loneliness will be nothing to the pain i used to feel, of being unworthy.

we've done a lot of good for each other.

people can really change one another.

you should go. i'll always be here. you know that.

generally i find men are a lot more concerned with limiting the freedoms of women than exercising personal freedom for themselves.

most people go through their whole lives without ever really feeling that close with anyone.

life is the thing you bring with you inside your own head.

even in memory, i will always find that moment unbearably intense.

i have never believed i'm fit to be loved by any person.

yes. that was it. the beginning of my life.

it's funny the decisions you make because you like someone.

your whole life is different.

i think we're at that weird age where life can change a lot from small decisions.

if people appear to behave pointlessly in grief, it's only because human life is pointless, and this is the truth that grief revealed.

i don't know what's wrong with me.

i don't know why i can't be like normal people.

it feels powerful to put an experience down in words.

people are a lot more knowable than they think they are.

there's always been something inside me that men have wanted to dominate.

i want my life to mean something.

a lot of the literary people in college see books primarily as a way of appearing cultured.

that's the only part of myself i want to protect, the part that exists inside you.

there's something so corrupt and sexy about it.

i wish you didn't have to go.

i wish you could stay the night.

life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.

literature moves me.

it almost sounds sexual.

you learn nothing very profound about yourself simply by being bullied.

it's time you'll never get back.

time is real. the money is also real.

we've done a lot of good for each other.

the snow keeps falling.

hopefully i have changed, you know, as a person. but honestly, if i have, it's because of you.

he does have immaculate taste.

it's not like this with other people.

[name], would you ever fuck off?

you lean in expecting resistance, and everything just falls away in front of you.

i would lie down and die for you at any minute.

sometimes, someone will make eye contact with me, like a bus conductor or a person looking for change, and i'll feel shocked that anyone can actually see me.

we could be in a room full of people and my eyes would always meet yours, just to find that you had already been looking.

there's something comforting about it, something good about feeling sort of numb, detached from it all.

it was different with you, didn't have to play any games with you. it was just real.

no one is ever gonna hurt you like that again. everything's gonna be all right. trust me.

i love you, and i'm not gonna let anything like that happen to you again.

we have done so much good for one another.

[verperina]

On The Throne

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader 

Summary: Dorian fulfills your fantasy of being fucked on his throne.

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word Count: 2,943

Author’s Note: I’m not 100% satisfied with this, but I’m still proud of myself for finishing it. I stayed up until 4:00 in the morning to finish writing and editing, and then put it in my drafts. And please ignore how boring/dumb the title is. I couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Everyone out.” Dorian’s voice rang throughout the room, echoing off the marble floors. The guards quickly left, including Chaol who sent a glance toward his friend and then to you before shutting the doors behind him. The room was completely empty now. It was just you and Dorian, who still had his eyes on you.  

Chaol had fetched you from the library, informing you that Dorian had requested your presence in the throne room, but did not say why. When you asked if something had happened, Chaol had quickly reassured you that the king was fine and had simply wanted to see you. 

The way Dorian was currently looking at you—a predatory look in his eyes—made your heart skip a beat, and you took a moment to study his clothing. He always dressed immaculately, but today he showed to be the perfect portrait of royalty. His black hair neatly combed with a gold crown placed perfectly upon his head, a fitted black jacket embellished with red and gold, a silk tunic, black trousers and black knee-high boots. The wedding ring adorning his finger—a silver band with a sapphire jewel that matched your own—gleamed in the sunlight.

Your body started to feel warm, your dress too constricting.

The corner of his lip tugged upwards and he reached out a hand, gesturing for you to step up the dais. “Come here.”

You remained still. His eyebrows faintly rose at your defiance and you could see a sliver of amusement in his eyes.

“Ask nicely,” you said, a small grin starting to form on your lips, “and then maybe I will, husband.”

He chuckled, the noise coming out breathy. “Please, come here my dear wife.”

After a moment of mock contemplation, you obliged, slowly walking up the steps so you wouldn’t trip over the fabric of your dress. 

Once you were within his reach, you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together, looking at his wedding ring before speaking. “When Chaol came to get me I was worried at first—I thought maybe something had happened.” Dorian’s gaze softened. “He was quick to reassure me that you were more than fine, although he didn’t share why you wanted to see me.”

Dorian started to smile. “I didn’t tell Chaol why I wanted to see you.”

“And why is that?” you asked, head tilting to the side.

“Because I didn’t want him to know that I would very much like to fuck you on my throne.” You choked out a laugh and felt your face begin to warm. His smile widened at the sound, sapphire eyes bright. A few weeks ago, laying in your shared bed after hours of passionate love making, you had confessed to Dorian about your fantasy of having sex on his throne—with no one else in the room, of course—and he had only laughed and playfully teased you before fucking you once more. You thought he had forgotten all about it. Apparently not. He added, “But I’m sure he will figure it all out rather soon.” And then a sly grin came across his face. “If he doesn’t, then I’m sure the noises will be confirmation.”

“Your mother would be horrified if she found out,” you mused. It was no secret that Georgina Havilliard wasn’t overly fond of you. When envisioning a future wife for her eldest son she favored the idea of a princess or at least a woman of high nobility, not a commoner like you. But Dorian didn’t care about her opinion and had no problem voicing it. He loved you and that’s all that mattered.

Your husband only shrugged before lightly tugging your hand. You saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes and knew that he wanted to indulge you in your fantasy. You lowered yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips and his large hands immediately gripped your thighs. Bringing your hands to cup his jaw, your thumb lightly traced the sharpness of his cheekbone, and then brushed it against his bottom lip.

You let yourself take time in admiring his features. His beauty. Just Dorian himself. Your Dorian.

Removing your hands from his face, you lowered them to his shoulders, and then to the firm muscle of his abdomen through his clothing. His stomach tightened at your touch and with one last glance at his face, your lips found his in a soft kiss, one so at odds with the burning desire that snapped through the air. Your entire body was tingling from excitement and the feeling of his warmth seeping into you.

Dorian’s tongue meets yours tentatively, waiting for you to lead the kiss, letting you decide how you wanted it. You let yourself take control. You alternate between gently nipping his lips and stroking your tongue against his while running your fingers through his thick hair. 

Your heart was racing and your face warm. Dorian pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. His lips were swollen from your kisses and his tanned face was a light shade of pink. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed, sapphire eyes glazed over with lust.

You swallowed, trying to catch your breath. “You.”

“Want me to make you feel good?” he murmured.

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, and not bothering to wait for him to take control, your hands grip the collar of his tunic as you drag Dorian in for a kiss that’s desperate and a little sloppy. His tongue in your mouth once again, and his hands move to cup your ass, kneading the flesh. A pleased sigh leaves you.

He deepens the kiss. It’s demanding and ravenous. You let yourself melt into him, let yourself just be here in the now with him. Unashamed and happy. You teasingly roll your hips against his hardness, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot through you, and a low, rough groan escapes him. You repeat the motion again, feeling arousal pool between your thighs.

His lips began to plant kisses along your jawline, and then leaves a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. Sucking the skin before harshly biting, a gasp leaves you at the slight stinging sensation. “I want to see my marks on you.” And you wanted to see his marks on you too. You wanted everyone to know that no one could touch you like Dorian could. That no one would ever be able to please you like Dorian did.

His hands started to untie the front laces of your dress, your bare breasts now exposed, and your nipples hardening from both your arousal, and the cool air. His lips leave love bites on your neck and collarbones, and then your breasts. You looked at him to see that his eyes were already on you, pure hunger shining in them.

And when Dorian brought your nipple to his warm mouth, you couldn’t stop the strangled moan that left you. Your back arched as your hands came to rest on his broad shoulders. He continued his torturous teasing; the rough sucking, the gentle biting. Your head tipped back as his fingers tugged at your other nipple. “Dorian,” you mumbled. Your cunt was wet, the lace fabric starting to become uncomfortable.

He wasn’t using his phantom hands. He wanted you all to himself. 

He lips wrapped around your other nipple, continuing the same ministrations but even more harsher this time. Your thighs tightened around him. He shuddered when your body moved against his, a debauched sound escaping his throat—a sound you wanted to hear more of. 

You continued to slowly grind yourself on him, desperate for some kind of relief. A pathetic whimper was voiced when your sensitive clit rubbed against the fabric of his pants. 

“I need more.” The words came out as a plea. It wasn’t enough. Your body craved more. 

Dorian released his mouth from you, looking into your eyes and said, “Tell me what you need and I will give it to you.”

“You inside of me.”

Your fingers trembled as you quickly undid the button to his pants and then his zipper. He pushed the skirts of your dress further up until your panties were completely visible, and without hesitation he pushed the material to the side and slid a finger through your folds, a breath leaving him at the feeling of your wet cunt.

You brought Dorian in for another kiss, one that left you breathless, and then pulled back to look at him. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, pretty flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. He still had the pale band around his neck from where the collar had been, but it did nothing to diminish his beauty.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed. 

Dorian laughed, his eyes glimmering with mirth, and your heart skipped a beat at how joyous it sounded. “I prefer devastatingly handsome.” He paused to kiss you once more. “But thank you.”

You smiled and opened your mouth to respond, but a moan came out when he slid a finger inside of you, purposefully slow. You looked down to see his finger sliding in and out, gathering more of your slick. “You like seeing me touch you?”

You nodded, slightly rocking your hips and bringing your hand down to rub your clit at a steady pace. A silent hiss left your lips at the contact, and pressure started to form low in your belly, a bundle of nerves starting to become more intense. His other hand kneaded your breast, adding more stimulation, making your orgasm grow nearer, even more so as a second finger entered you.

Your cunt started clenching rhythmically, eager to find that release you desperately wanted. You started rubbing your clit faster, feeling a sheen layer of sweat on your body and hairline despite the room being a little cold. You could only imagine how messy your appearance was right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to particularly care.

Breathy gasps left you as you climaxed, your body shuddering from the intensity as Dorian helped you ride through your high. The feeling leaves you in ecstasy, slightly buzzed. Only when you stopped pleasuring yourself did he gently remove his fingers. 

He brought them to his mouth, sapphire eyes glazed over with burning desire, and tasted your arousal. A pleased sound left him. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he pulls you in for a fiery kiss, your tongues stroking against one another. 

You push down his undershorts, his cock springing free, hard and the tip leaking with arousal. You swallowed. You wanted Dorian to fuck your throat until tears streamed down your face, but that would happen next time when you two had more time, it could wait. Instead, you grabbed his cock and stroked him, and Dorian tipped his head back.

Your thumb collected the moisture at his tip, rubbing it along his slit and he groaned. You could tell that he was restraining himself from bucking his hips. After giving a soft squeeze, you very slowly start stroking him. His brows slightly furrow and his hands tighten their hold on your backside. You give a harsh tug, and then another before picking up your pace a little more.

The restraint that Dorian was holding onto broke free as he removed your hand from his length and tightened a fist over it, giving a few leisure strokes of his own, and then angles himself up with the entrance of your cunt. And when you finally lowered yourself onto his cock, you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran throughout your entire body. The feeling of him being inside you felt so warm and full.

You both paused for a moment to just breathe each other in, and then you began a slow pace, placing a hand around his throat and the other on his chest to balance yourself. The stretch of his cock is a delicious torture; you could never grow tired of this. A shaky breath escapes your lips as you ride him. His hands come to rest on your hips to help steady you.

You could feel a thin layer of perspiration cling uncomfortably to your back, but you ignored it as you lightly squeezed Dorian’s throat and closed your eyes, feeling nothing but pure bliss. 

Very slowly you start to move a little faster, his heavy breathing encouraging you. Each time your hips moved upward you squeeze around his cock, making his eyebrows lightly crease from pleasure and his hands tighten their hold on you. You bring your mouth to his, and heavy, forceful kisses leave your lungs burning for air. Your hands and his own are all over each other, frantic, as if you two can’t get enough of one another. 

“How did I get so lucky?” he asked. “How did I get so lucky as to have you?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, Dorian’s hand came down to harshly smack your ass and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, but harder this time and it causes you to clench around his cock, and in response he lets out a quiet groan. He lets his nails lightly scratch the side of your ass before slapping you again. You wouldn’t be surprised to find handprints later on.

He stopped your movements by firmly grabbing your hips, and before you could question what he was doing, he slammed you down onto his length—hard. You both let out choked moans and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. He repeated the same motion thrice more before snapping his hips upward. The sound of skin-on-skin echoing throughout the room.

“You can take it,” Dorian panted. 

His hands are still holding your hips in place to keep you in his control. Your back arches in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your lips, and a deep pressure starts building in your belly, tingles rippling through your entire body. You plead for your husband to go faster, desperately wanting to find release. Your mouth hangs open as your forehead falls against his, and a bead of sweat trails down your temple from your hairline. You ignore the uncomfortable feeling of sweat clinging to your body.

Your hands cup your breasts, kneading the flesh before rolling your nipples in between your thumbs and forefingers to add more stimulation. You groan at the sensation. Dorian watches keenly, his throat bobbing. 

Your cunt is throbbing painfully and your walls are pulsing as your body tightens around him. He releases his hold on you so you can move against him, and you bring your hands to rest on his shoulders to ride him faster.

“Take what you want,” he encourages. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”

You whine at the praise, clenching around his cock. He moans at the feeling of your tight, wet walls around him. The sound sent a rush of pleasure to your core. He kisses you harshly before speaking again. “You’re doing so good for me. Always so good for me.”

The knot in your stomach twists. “I’m going to come,” you gasp out. Your movements become chaotic and uncontrolled. You start rhythmically pulsing around his cock and he snaps his hips in a frenzy to help bring your climax closer. 

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Come for me.”

With a loud moan, your orgasm rolls through you in an intense convulsion, your vision blurring. Your toes curl so hard in your slippers they begin to cramp as pure ecstasy floods your body. Your limbs tremble and spasm as you hold onto Dorian tightly, burning your face into the crook of his neck. 

He curses, nipping the lobe of your ear as his warm hands grip your thighs. His hips buck frantically, chasing his own release, and when you clench around him again he groans loudly, spilling into you. His breathing is ragged against your neck as his thrusts slow down before coming to a stop. 

The two of you trembled in each other’s arms as you came down from the high. You sigh, closing your eyes, letting yourself rest your head on his chest and listen to the erratic beating of his heart. Dorian lazily ran his hand up and down your back. His touch is soothing and gentle, like always.

The air in the room was stifling, too hot, despite it being chilly when you had first arrived. You swallow, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. You could feel your dress stick uncomfortably to your skin from sweating, and stray pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead. You were too dazed from your orgasm to care about your appearance.

“Do you think Chaol knows?” you ask softly. Both of you had been in here for more than ten minutes and neither of you had exactly been quiet, and Chaol wasn’t dumb; he saw the way you and Dorian were looking at each other before leaving the room.

“Given how loud you and I were, then yes, I would assume so,” Dorian says. “But if he isn’t aware, then I have no problem fucking you again.”

You laugh loudly at that and he joins you, the sound making your heart skip a beat. You had no problem with being fucked on his throne again, if anything it made you want to do it again. 

“I would like that,” you respond, stifling a yawn.

“I thought as much.” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that Dorian was smiling, and you felt a smile bloom on your lips too, feeling happy and content with being in the arms of your husband.

[kit-williams]

An interesting idea recently came to my mind… and I just can’t keep quiet about it.

Imagine Horus suddenly realizing he's falling in love with a remembrancer/serf who's… pregnant.

Who the father is unknown. Either he died or abandoned you. And yes, this whole situation really pisses Horus off. He is delighted with the way you look, the way you smell and understands that he wants you to bear his child, give him blood sons.

You are cared for, you are cherished. Even too much. But he hates this child from some mortal. And then… heresy comes. After giving birth you are informed that your child, what a horror, has died. Horus consoles you, as if it was not he who crushed your son.

You will definitely become a mother. Do just let the primarch take care of you, okay?And please stop crying for your child, it's annoying. Oh, do you have any milk left? Well… :)

Yes, this whole plot and details are simply replete with horror, manipulation and perverted breeding kink. But Horus Heretic is supposed to be scary.

I don’t know if you will write a post about this or not. It would be a great pleasure to read. Unfortunately, I am not strong in Luna Wolves and Horus. Anyway, I hope all of you liked my absolutely disturbing idea.

So Momrad normally avoids stuff about hurting babehs... BUT this hit me like an Iron Warrior with a trenching shovel. Probably gonna do serf because obligatory momrad is in love with horrific power imbalances

Also ya'll have a lot more faith in me than I do myself about how I'm writing the primarchs and the legions so thank you!

tw: manipulation, breeding kink, discussion about a pregnant womans body, talks about miscarriage, child death (PLEASE someone let me know if I miss a tag)

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

You had such a glow to your skin when he first saw you. He was told that pregnant women had a glow to them and you certainly glowed. It was more of a passing interest in his serfs he was always a nosy and gregarious one and you had mentioned how you'd have to be transferred to lighter labor soon not realizing the primarch was listening to your conversations.

The hesitation upon your dark lips when the other serfs, in their gossip, had asked about the father. The tight line that your lips had become... "I'm having this child by immaculate conception." You said causing the others to laugh but Horus could tell... he could tell that you were on your own not by your own choice. And that thought caused him to roil. All of his sons were someone else's son at some point and then they were made to be his... sometimes there was a choice to be made into an Astartes... and sometimes there was no choice. Perhaps it was his inhumanity or perhaps hyper-humanity that caused him to be confused as to why you continued on... and why it sounded like you had been abandoned.

Perhaps Horus was glad in some sense that you had been abandoned by the uncaring father as you made something itch in the back of his skull and eventually even he could no longer ignore it. You wilted in his presence under his gaze, like all mortals did at first, to be in the presence of a demigod... the hand pressed over your slightly swollen stomach to protect it. But Horus simply played innocent in his intentions asking about the child... what it was like as he had been handmade by the Emperor and so this aspect of being human was lost upon him and his brothers.

The glow to your skin returned with each visit he made, his fingers caressing your stomach and eventually the poisoned thought latched like a newborn to the teat... what if you could bear his sons? You try your best to not be a burden to the Primarch, your request to transfer denied, he simply says its all from curiosity... but that lie dies quickly as your body goes through more changes... once you enter your second trimester.

Your breasts leak, he can smell it... the slow dribbling from your engorged breasts. The grunts from you as you press your hand against your rounding stomach... the fascination from other serfs and even his sons and the sparkle in your eyes as a tiny foot kicks against the hand. You had other side effects and had tried to run from him during one of them... spikes in arousal and sensitivity. You once more wilted under his gaze when you realized the Primarch could smell you... and the lie for why he kept you around died.

You were far too fearful to take his cock, far too sensitive... his fingers were almost too much and yet you rode his hand... riding his digit deep inside of your fluttering cunt with the vigor of a sex starved woman. Horus' mouth latched to your breast suckling on the tasteless discharge and he could feel the way your cunt gripped around his finger with each suckle. He could feel the tiny foreign body inside of you when he pressed against your swollen stomach. And he wanted it gone. He felt kinship in the way that certain males in animals will commit infanticide to try to get the mother fertile again as it was slowly becoming clear that simply hoping you would miscarry wasn't going to happen. But still... he should have warned you to not partake in his food... you didn't know what things he could ingest.

He loved seeing you like this, his hands supporting your weight as his cock slowly pushed in and out of you as tears were rolling down your face as it was too much yet not enough. You cried out his name in weak whimpers trying to close your legs one moment and the next trying to open them wider. He could pretend for a moment that your swollen belly was full of a child that was his. He wanted an actual son of Horus from you. He wanted to create the human chimera that all humans were to be made of... that biological mashup of his DNA mixed with yours... he wanted that. He was reminded once the haze of lust had passed, and as he stole succor from your breasts that the life inside of you wasn't his. It was from a man who abandoned you without a second thought... it confused the Primarch as to why you would raise the offspring of a man who did not care about the life you were bearing? Why reward him for his genetic duty of passing on his genes? Why would he have to wait up to a year before you would be ready to have his son?

It was doubtful that he would be there... be there to snuff out the life that came from you but he told the midwife what he wanted... and who was she to disobey? And he was right as he had been called away to bring the heel of the crusade onto the neck of some fool who thinks they could withstand the might of the Emperor. When he came back you were withdrawn... having to be ordered to come to him as the depression had claimed you. He did his best to sooth you and not revel in satisfaction that seemed that the child upon leaving your womb was far too weak... you did not hear that triumphant cry of life and that was the last you saw of your babe.

Your breasts were swollen with milk for a dead child... you still cried for the life you had grown to love... cooing lovingly to the thing inside of you. Horus soothes his anger with the fact that if this had been your child with him you would have still wept so greatly. You hardly notice your back in his bed as the Primarch pulled open your front and latched onto your breast feeling the liquid dribble out as your hand instinctively went to the back of his head as he nursed. He would say it was to relieve the pain your breasts were in... but he wanted to distract you. He drained one breast dry before moving to the other drinking up the meager amount of milk meant for a tiny stomach.

Sniffling weakly as your fingers move over his scalp as he kisses you soothing you asking you if you still want a baby. The tears that fall from your eyes as you answer your primarch truthfully... you still wanted to hold the tiny body that they wouldn't let you see... you never got to say goodbye... "Yes." You say so sadly as he kisses you with that charming look in his eyes.

"Then I will make it so my dear... recover and when you are better I swear that you shall have a healthy child by next solar year." Horus says kissing you softly... and soon enough he will replace his father and bring actual peace to the Imperium. And you will help bring about such change now that your womb is empty... and once it is ready... he is certain to fill it once again with his brood.

[saintsenara]

Thoughts on remadora?

thank you very much for the asks, anons!

while they are by no means my otp, i really enjoy remadora as pairing - and i think they’re fully up there among the canon couples in terms of being an amazing vehicle through which to explore all sorts of questions about life and love - which i am aware is a sufficiently controversial statement that it involves an immediate engagement with some discourse…

because remadora girlies [gender neutral] get an enormous amount of shit within the fandom, particularly from fans who consider wolfstar to be a more plausible pairing for lupin than tonks. i have seen remadora shippers called homophobes for simply enjoying the couple, justified with the bizarre idea that it disrespects remus' relationship with sirius [so... the non-canon one?] to put them together. i have seen tonks turned into a pathetic shrew who is trying to keep remus from the real love of his life by trapping him with an unwanted baby. i have seen remadora shippers get a lot of the usual stuff that people who prefer the canon-endgame couples do [that to ship a canon pair is boring, that it is indicative of a lack of talent, that it indicates an uncritical support for jkr] magnified to eleven because tonks has the temerity to be a barrier to remus’ relationship with the fandom’s favourite hot and brooding man.

obviously, this is bullshit - primarily because its unreasonable and cruel to invest so much time and energy being mean to people because of their harry potter shipping preferences [fandom should never be that deep].

but it’s also a disappointment to me personally because it means that it can be very hard to find the sort of remadora i like without looking like i’m coming to contribute to the pile-on. because where many remadora fans and i don’t see eye-to-eye is that i have absolutely no interest in thinking about them as a relationship which is actually functional. and, all too often, i find myself sifting through fics which do prefer to interpret them like this - as romantic and passionate and stable - largely, i think it’s fair to say, as a defensive move against the tide of “urgh, imagine shipping that” nonsense - even though all the evidence of canon is that they are… very much not.

i am aware of the pottermore article which smoothes the edges of lupin’s canonical reaction to tonks’ feelings for him in half-blood prince - but, while i read this as something of a retcon to make the relationship more palatable, i also don’t think that assuming that both tonks and lupin’s attraction to each other was sincere precludes them being as dysfunctional as they canonically are. i don’t go in for the common anti-remadora argument that tonks “forces” him into a relationship with her - it’s clear in half-blood prince that it’s not only her who has discussed her feelings with molly and arthur weasley, lupin is definitely flirting with her when they pick harry up in order of the phoenix, lupin is an adult man [no matter other power imbalances between him and tonks - such as the fact that she is an agent of the state which oppresses him] who possesses the capacity to refuse her advances, and - since teddy’s conception is not immaculate - he has no issue with enjoying a sexual relationship with her even if he then wants to run away from the product of that.

instead, what i like with remadora is that they reveal something which goes against the grain of the rest of the series: that love is not always enough. throughout the seven-book canon, we see time and time again the idea that love - and, crucially, love-as-noble-suffering and love-as-sacrifice - is enough to overcome any problem. entire civil service collaborating with a terrorist regime? don’t trouble yourself, love has won. your mother dying in childbirth leaving you to be neglected in a state institution? your own fault you’re not interested in love.

i understand the genre reasons for this, but i also love the way in which lupin especially exists on the margins of these genre conventions [just as he exists on the margins of wizarding society!]. i’m always struck in deathly hallows that he’s the only person who’s actually realistic about the demands of war - particularly when he tells harry that it is breathtakingly naive for him to think he can get through the fighting without having to shoot to kill - and that part of him having to be shuffled out of the way when harry tells him to return to the pregnant tonks is because, were the story focused on realism, the idea of a wanted man who is considered an unhuman by the state fleeing in order to guarantee the safety of his wife and unborn child becomes eminently reasonable and harry's defense of the nuclear family embarrassingly unradical.

and so i like the idea of lupin seeing tonks - and tonks seeing lupin - initially as just a bit of fun, as the two of them being just two chill single people who think the other is hot and interesting and want to bang because of it.

[which is something fandoms in general really struggle with as a concept. we like epic love stories - and you won't find me objecting to that! - but we're less good at thinking about casual sexual attraction or transient friendships, and how these can be transformative and meaningful without having to end up going any sort of distance.]

and i then like the idea of the relationship being forced into a profundity it doesn’t really have the juice to sustain by the sheer avalanche of grief which besets the two of them - sirius, dumbledore, mad-eye, ted - and by the pressure of the war and the fact that the order is scrambling and the hangover of remus' self-destruction in half-blood prince which makes each cling to the other as a life-raft. i like remadora as something codependent and messy and strange and sad, and i don’t think this prevents it being sincere and fun and based in mutual attraction, but instead that these positive qualities can exist in conjunction with the fact that, without the war, it would have been a summer of fucking and that was probably it.

on tonks herself, i don’t think i can say it better than @evesaintyves in this meta on her character. i’ve been really uncomfortable with quite a lot of stuff i’ve seen recently which has taken against the idea that tonks can be meaningfully read as queer on the basis of what we find in the text, above all because it so often comes with the implication that one cannot imagine her in her canon endgame pairing and presume that she’s something other than straight or cisgender. eve sets out an excellent case for tonks as bolshy and liberated and in tune with herself and fun and confused and in flux and still figuring stuff out about who she is and where she’s going - and this translates, may i say, to an astonishingly beautiful way of writing her, lupin, and the dysfunction inherent between them which i highly recommend you read.

[luveline]

Jade you’re always doing the boys comforting reader and I love that but maybe we could comfort hotch? Like it’s Haley’s bday or smth and you just spend a quiet day together reminiscing and comforting him! Tysm I love you!!

ty for requesting, ily ♡ fem!reader

Sometimes you worry about coming second to Haley, but mostly you feel intensely gutted for Aaron's loss. It's natural to feel inferior. He loves her even now she's gone, holding the same torch for her as when she lived. She was selfless, and gave her life for her son. You haven't ever done anything so brave. 

"I get if you think this wasn't my place," you say softly, arms behind your back, hand wrapped around your elbow. "I can get rid of it all. Just wanted things to feel special for you both." 

Aaron barely looks at you, his eyes flitting over the things you'd prepared. Cards for her. Two bouquets. A cake. Everything set aside immaculately. Everything as perfect as he would've done himself. 

"And I didn't bring it up because I was unsure about what you'd say, but I don't have to be here today." You point at your handbag ready on the chair. "I can make myself busy. I want you and Jack to have everything you need, you know? So if that's space, you don't have to be afraid to tell me." 

Aaron smiles a small smile. "You know her favourite flower?" 

"You told me." He speaks of her funeral rarely. Happier memories more often —things she did as a dedicated and goofy wife, and a devoted and fun mother. 

"I don't want you to leave," he says, "not unless you don't want to be here." 

"Of course I want to be here. I know this is a hard day for you," you say gently. 

He looks like he'd accept a hug if you offer one. You step into the reach of his arms and hang your wrists over his shoulder. Haley must have done this before, you know. You're not her. You're different in so many ways. You aren't sure if reminding him of her is a good thing or a bad thing, but right now, you're just a girlfriend trying to make her partner feel better. 

"A hard life," you amend. "I get that this won't ever go away, Aaron. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you." 

"I have everything I need," he says simply. 

You wrap your arms around him, hugging his face to the curve of your neck on tiptoes. 

"I'm sorry she can't be here," you whisper, petting the hair at the back of his head. "I'm really sorry, Aaron." 

"Me too." 

You don't know how much he can handle. With a quick, closed-eyed squeeze, you pull away from him and turn back to your preparations. He stands behind you, fingertips ghosting against the small of your back.  

"That ones bigger than the rest," he murmurs, gesturing to an especially beautiful flower. 

"I got the nicest ones they had." 

"She would've put them on the window sill in the kitchen. That way she'd see them a couple of times a day." 

You put them on the window sill, where they blossom for a week. When they wilt, you press the biggest bud in an old book.

[thisfanisgonesorry]

please make a part2 to ironhead where he actually ties up a vibrator to her…….pretty please….

thank you for the req cutie pie!! i have another hobie fic coming out in a few days and then probs going to a diff fandom until i get possessed again (aka ill get halfway through my carlos drabble and then ill end up coming up w/ another hobie fic)

tags: overstim YEAHH, touch denial, bondage, shibari but less than before, dom/sub, i mean v heavy dom/sub. cums in pants.

my beta reader thinks i lace these fics with crack

pt 1 >> IRONHEAD listening to let me hear you scream - ozzy osbourne

✰ “Y’re doing great, love.” He purred me through my orgasm. 

I kept my eyes harshly closed, wrists tied above my head and legs tied together with a magic wand held nicely in place by firm ropes. I writhed helplessly against the restraints, the sensitivity getting worse with each moment.

“Calm down, baby.” He whispered, pressing his large hand on my stomach to push me against the mattress in hopes to ease the movement.

“Hobie, please.” I cried.

“Tell me that wit’ y’r eyes open.”

I opened my eyes lazily, trying desperately to look up at him. He was knelt next to me with wide legs, hovering over me. All I could focus on was his aching cock, stuck in the confines of his tight jeans. He was so hard that a wet patch was forming through the fabric, yet he was in complete control.

I let out a pathetic whine at the sight, knowing there was nothing more appealing to my lust-addled mind than to touch him and get him off.

“Love.. Are you cryin’?” He cooed softly.

“It’s too much.” I pleaded with him.

“Y’re only 5 in.”

A choked cry clawed its way from my throat at his words. The stickiness on my body was driving me crazy, covered in sweat, spiderwebs and cum; the view to him was nothing short of immaculate but he simply sat there like the world’s most self controlled man.

“Let me touch you.” I whined. “Please, Hobie.”

“No.”

“Please! You’re so hard, ‘s cryin’ for me, wants me so bad.” I sobbed. “Gonna twitch under my fingers.. Twitch on my tongue, gonna—”

“You’re riling yourself up.”

“Hobes, ‘m gonna cum, please, please, please.” I helplessly begged.

He took in a sharp inhale, steadying his breathing as he watched carefully, running his hand up and down my thigh. “Go on, love. Make it real pretty. Let m’hear you.” He spoke, attempting to speak clearly to show just how restrained he was.

I let out an incoherent mess of cries and begs, cumming all over the wand and squirming against the restraints again. His other hand began to brush my sweaty hair out of my face, watching the way his torture made me unwind.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He gritted his teeth, trying to contain a groan.

“Mhmphf— Hobie.” I whimpered, the orgasm dying down and the burning overstimulation returning.

I used all the strength in my body to stop squirming enough to push myself onto my side, pressing my face into his strong thigh, the position was uncomfortable due to my wrists being tied to the headboard but it was the price to pay to feel him against my skin.

“Darlin’..” He laughed nervously.

“I need it.” I moaned, looking up at him through hazed, cock-drunk eyes. I nuzzled my face pathetically against his jeans. “Need you, need you so, so, so bad.” I rambled.

“You have me.” He answered, his voice shaking slightly.

A loud moan, followed by a loud ‘ah, fuck’ filled the air. I brought my knees to my chest as comfortably as I could with my legs tied together. Small whines, gasps and pants filled the air as I desperately tried to get closer to the handsome man watching every move I made.

“Y’re so desperate, ain’t ya?” He teased lightly, keeping his hands to himself, knowing otherwise he would probably break his iron will.

“Please.” I sobbed, 6 orgasms in and completely ruined beyond belief.

The squirming, thrashing, writhing, tugging, awkward angle and general length of the entire evening meant all 3 of us were worn down. The third, loud as day, snapped. Hobie perked up when he heard the sound of the webbing breaking, freeing my wrists from its hold. He was kind of impressed briefly; my hands quickly wrapped around his waist in a hug, pulling him closer to me.

“I should punish y’for that.” He spoke softly, stroking my sweaty hair once again. Though the fact I simply pulled him into a hug instead of going for his hardness was what convinced him otherwise.

I shook my head to say ‘nuh-uh’ as I pressed open mouth kisses on his jeans. “Close again.” I warned. “So close. I can’t—”

“Y’can do it, love.” He spoke sweetly, his hand gripping the back of my thigh to keep me in place as his other left my face to harshly grip the bed sheets. He leaned back slightly for a better view and that’s when he wrecked himself.

My hips jerked and spasmed, simultaneously grinding into and away from the vibrator. My breathing was racing and the sounds eliciting from my body only raised more and more in volume.

“Right there..” I pleaded.

“Let me hear you scream.” He groaned.

There was not much else I could do but abide by his request, though in the mindless state (despite the fact it was quite intentional), I reached to palm him through his jeans, crying his name out in several moans. 

I could feel him switch under me as the sounds left my throat and hung heavy in the air. His hips jerked to the movement before he grabbed my hand harshly.

“Don’t..” He whispered, halting the movements though the pressure of it pressed against his dick was still enough.

“Please.. Need you.” I tried to whisper back, though it definitely didn’t come out like that. I continued pressing open mouth kisses on his jeans and trying to move my hand from under his. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, breathing heavily and trying to gauge what the correct thing to do was as my hips continued to stutter against the wand, he kept a keen eye on me, his grip letting up just enough that I could stroke him at the speed he chose, limiting the movements.

“Y’re filthy.” He groaned, watching me lick a stripe up the fabric. His hips jerked at the sight and his composure was falling slowly.

He found himself giving in to my touches as I squirmed at my own pleasure. “Fuck, so much.” I breathed, mouthing his pants. “Ain’t 7 enough?”

“But y’re making m’feel s’good.” He panted.

“Can’t stop cumming.” I whined, feeling it get closer again as I desperately palmed at his cock; silently waiting for the permission to pull it out of his pants, the fact he was even letting me do this much was kind of a miracle.

HIs hips kept moving against my hand as he praised me quietly, watching me squirm into him, taking the punishment like a champ. He let out small moans and groans as he watched me palm him, nuzzling into him, pressing small kisses onto him, doing whatever I could in my goddamn right to worship him.

“Ngh— Fuck, ‘m cummin’ again—” I moaned, the downtime between each one was getting shorter and shorter and there’d either peak when I reached a moment of constant orgasm, or I believe I’d simply go numb and feel nothing but overstimulation and be a whining, crying mess, unable to orgasm any more.

His breathing hitched in his throat, he watched me writhe with that stupid lopsided grin, his jaw slack in awe as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with air. He felt that warm feeling in his stomach, noticing the telltale signs. “Shit, wait, y/n—”

His eyes closed, his jaw fell open and he gasped for air, small groans leaving his throat and his hips stuttering in place. His large hand forced me to stroke him through it, as he quickly accepted his fate.

“Fuck.” He hissed. “Let’s get y’fixed up, pretty baby.” He spoke quickly, pushing me off him, trying to be gentle despite his speed. He turned off the vibrator and let me relax, my tense body finally slump down into comatose limpness.

“Did you..?” I panted mindlessly.

“Shut up.” He mumbled, grabbing his pocket knife and slicing the webbing again, careful enough to not damage the wand, but quick enough to lay me down.

“Mhm, need’a washcloth.” I sighed, finally given a moment to sit back and catch my breath, finally able to relax after the considerate torture he put me through. “Feels gross.. All sweaty 'nd sticky.”

“I can see that.” He responded. 

I laid on my back, watching him through heavy eyes, he scrambled to discard the webbing that was tight on my legs and waist, collecting the loose web still stuck to the headboard, to put the wand away and then to get the damp cloth I needed to clean up.

He tried to stifle a laugh when he saw the wet patch on the bed. He knew, in this moment, he wasn’t one to laugh, but he found the view slightly impressive. He ran the damp cloth over anywhere that looked particularly gross, starting with my face for obvious reasons.

 “Anythin’ else y’need, love?”

“Dunno.” I hummed, he sat over me, removing his t-shirt and helping me put it on my body. It was worn, but it smelt like him. “You gonna let me see the mess you made?” I commented as he held my body upright.

“I.. No.” He spoke. “Y’look tired, darlin’.” 

“You embarrassed?” I asked softly.

“No..” He shook his head again, “A little. Just.. Fuckin’.. Gotta wash these now.”

I sighed, rolling onto my stomach and taking the pile of pillows in my arms, knowing that Hobie would come take his place underneath me soon enough, he just has to rid himself from his excitement.

He ran his hand smoothly down my spine, feeling the muscles relax under his fingertips.

“Go to sleep, darl’, ‘m gonna be a minute.”

“Wash ‘em tomorrow, I want you now.”

He took a sharp inhale, before finally giving in. “If I can’t get the stains out, you’re on clean up duty.” He threatened, though it was clear to tell it wasn’t genuine. He quickly slid into clean pj shorts before snaking his way into bed and pulling me away from the wetpatch and onto his chest.

“Hobes, missing somethin’.” I mumbled the reminder, being taken by sleep as I felt the warmth of his arms wrap around me.

“Mhm? What’s that?” 

“Where’s my ‘y’did so good’?”

“Y’did so good.” He huffed in amusement, placing a soft lingering kiss on my neck. “Y’took that real well, jus’ took everythin’ I gave ya’, ‘nd y’looked so pretty doin’ it, too. Wasn’t too much, was it?”

I shook my head weakly. “Was good.” I sighed, nuzzling into his neck and letting myself give into the exhaustion.

“I love ya’, darlin’.” He said finally, continuing his whispers of praise.

[doll-elvis]

PRISCILLA (2023)

~ my thoughts as an elvis fan

(credit to @urpinkstargirl for the photo)

WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD:

so I saw it last night and I’ve been stewing on it ever since as I wanted to be 100% sure in myself before saying this publicly

**brace yourselves**

After just one viewing… I feel confident in saying that I preferred this film over “Elvis” 2022 🤧. It was just so immersive and so deeply intimate that I walked away from the theater feeling like I had just lived a life with Elvis, and experienced all the ugly and wonderful things that came with it

I am seeing it again tonight and possibly tomorrow just to recapture that feeling (which made me cry… three times…)

And although I’m not the biggest fan of Sofia Coppola, there is simply no denying that she has perfected showing “girlhood” in film, and making the most unique experiences, like being Marie Antoinette and being Priscilla Presley, somehow universal to everybody. I haven’t felt being “14” since I was 14, which was a whole 5 years ago, but WHEW… I most definitely felt 14 again when watching Priscilla navigate life in Germany

Also- we all saw how Austin Butler was completely cheated out of an Oscar and so I’m begging that we do not do that again. Give the Oscar to Cailee Spaeny (who played Priscilla) right now 😤 There are no words besides “immaculate” to describe her performance. Her future is so bright as an actress, I just cannot wait to follow her career + she just seems like the sweetest person ever??

And I know it might seem insane to say that I preferred “Priscilla” over “Elvis” and some of y’all might crucify me for that take but my preference solely comes down to the fact that I appreciate Priscilla’s perspective much more so than the Colonel’s, who to me, has always been the least interesting aspect of Elvis’ story

My biggest gripe with having the Colonel narrative/tell Elvis’ life in the 2022 film is the fact that it made the film feel rather impersonal to Elvis as I don’t think the script or the storytelling ever fully allowed for Austin Butler to explore what he was like beyond the stage

And personally speaking, I have a much deeper love for Elvis the person as opposed to Elvis the performer, and I think that “Priscilla” showed the human side of him far more than “Elvis” ever did (like y’all we actually get to hear and see him reading his philosophy books in this!!!)

But before I get into what was actually depicted in film, and all my praises, I thought I would briefly state what I thought could have been done better. Don’t get me wrong, this movie was beyond amazing, however, it was definitely not without its’ faults:

1. If you have seen a lot of reviewers talk negatively about the pacing in this film- just know that they are unfortunately, completely right in that assessment. The whole timeline of Germany felt literally five minutes long, and the 70s also, felt maybe 10 minutes long which just made both the beginning and end feel rather rushed. Also there were at least 5 scenes that just faded to black before going onto the next one, and some very abrupt cuts in scenes which felt a bit awkward

2. Because this is a biopic, and because it’s based on a real life, there is no climax like you would be accustomed to normally in a film and so I think that the average viewer, like someone who may not really care about Priscilla or Elvis, will probably walk away from the film feeling unsatisfied- possibly bored. I saw it with my mom and my sister, and my mom was asleep in like 45 minutes 😭. The movie definitely got repetitive at some points but I acknowledge the fact that life is repetitive, especially for Priscilla in the 60s while Elvis was off making movies

3. While Priscilla (played by Cailee Spaeny) aged realistically and seamlessly, Elvis (played by Jacob Elordi) was essentially the same person (physically) for 95% percent of the film. For some reason, his hair was already dyed black in the Germany scenes, although we know it was brown at that time, and so there was no real transformation for him until Lisa Marie is born. The height of the actor was definitely jarring at first but eventually I got used to it…however…I damn near busted out laughing when they showed him in the Comeback special outfit 💀 His performance was nothing but incredible (ESPECIALLY THE VOICE) and so I learned to get over the physical disparities rather quickly

4. The ending of this film, particularly the song, was overwhelmingly sad and impactful but I was really disappointed that we didn’t get to see Priscilla’s and Elvis’ relationship after the divorce. This film ends with Priscilla leaving Graceland, starting her “new life”, which didn’t make much sense to me considering this movie was adapted from her book, which very much explores that part of her life, especially with Elvis

I would have really love to seen moments like this from Priscilla’s perspective ⬇️

excerpt from “Priscilla, Elvis and me” (avoid this book)

5. NO CIRCLE G RANCH!!! It is borderline criminal to make a film about Priscilla and Elvis and to not include their time spent at Circle G ranch ** which Priscilla has always said were their happiest times together **. I assume that this was likely an issue because of the budget and the fact that they only had 30 days to film but god… I would have really appreciated some of the domestic bliss that Priscilla and Elvis shared while living in the trailer on the ranch. There were many happy moments/sequences (y’all are going to die when you see the rollerblading/go cart scenes) in this movie, but I think their gradual separation/withdrawal from one another (post marriage) would have hit harder if we saw how happy they were together during their ranch phase

6. For those who have read “Elvis and Me”, we all know about the famed LSD scene that takes place and unfortunately, Coppola heavily missed the mark on it. We don’t see Lamar Fike making out with a tree, we don’t see Jerry Schilling in a closet- instead we see Priscilla and Elvis just kind of rolling around, laughing amongst themselves while the room around them turns different colors

There were definitely many key moments/stories like that missing from the film, and I honestly wish that the movie was an hour longer so that we could have seen the book more fully fleshed out

Lastly, here’s just a general synopsis of the scenes in Germany… I was going to do the whole movie but I don’t have the stamina to type it all out 😭. If y’all want to know something specific please feel free to comment below and I will let you know <3!!

After the beginning credits are shown, the film starts with Currie Grant (who was renamed as Terry West) approaching Priscilla in a diner, inviting her to a party at Elvis’ house. After talking with her parents and assuring them that Priscilla will be looked after by him and his wife, it cuts to her in the back of a car, on her way to meet Elvis. The scene is exactly like how it is in the book, Elvis asks her how old she is, he remarks that she is “just a baby” and so on- Elvis then plays “a Whole lotta shakin” at the piano and that is one of three musical performances we see from him

Priscilla is then re-invited by Currie aka Terry via Elvis to comeback to the house again. Elvis invites Priscilla up to his room, she looks around and sees letters from Anita Wood, and a poster of Bridgette Bardot just like in the book. After Elvis talks about Gladys and how he is still reeling over her death, and how lonely he has felt since then, they share their first kiss to the song “Crimson and Clovers”

There are some scenes of Priscilla at school and some scenes of her sort of convincing her parents to let her continue to see Elvis. And they do agree, but just like in the book, they want to meet him first. Elvis is questioned by Priscilla’s father on why he wants to be with her to which Elvis replies that she is very mature for her age and that he likes talking to her since she is from home aka the United States. He then assures Priscilla’s father that she will be taken care of. After that we see them going to the movies where Elvis expresses how much he wants to be a serious actor, and then they share another kiss on the car ride home. It then cuts to Christmas time where we see Elvis giving Priscilla a watch and then BOOM- Elvis and her are on the way to the airport where they say their final goodbyes as he leaves for the United States

The film really does follow closely to the book (at least from 59’ when they meet to 69’- again the 70s were really rushed) and so I really recommended to read that prior to watching the movie

As for the more sensitive scenes-

There is no explicit sex, no graphic nudity, and no scene where Elvis forces himself upon Priscilla. He does say “this is how a real man makes love to his woman” but all he does is kiss her before she pushes him off. There is a rather long “polaroid-taking” sequence where it shows all the outfits that Elvis would Priscilla dress up in but other than that, we only see Elvis and Priscilla make out

And it did show when Elvis accidentally hit Priscilla in the eye during the pillow fight scene in her book, along with the scene of him throwing a chair in her general direction after she expressed she didn’t like a demo of one his songs, and the scene where he grabs all her clothes from the closet and tells her that she should go visit her parents. I don’t think that the scenes made Elvis look abusive: Coppola was surprisingly nuanced in showing that he had reasons for his sometimes bad temperament i.e the pills he took along with the fact that he was frustrated with his film career

It also shows Elvis’ infidelities but really only through movie magazines that Priscilla sees. So it’s never explicitly shown, I would say it’s more hinted at than anything

And there are two scenes of Priscilla with Mike Stone but again, nothing that is explicitly shown, it’s just hinted at

Finally, to finish this up, this is what I wrote on my Instagram account which I very much stand by ⬇️

Just please give this movie a chance y’all, it was so beautiful and so sensitively done… I cannot wait to watch it again <3

[airytaurus]

observations on each venus sign coming from a taurus venus🫧🫀.

aries venus: for me I feel like they’d be too much too keep up with honestly lol but I would love having someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind and say something when they need to. I also would love how adventurous and fun they are because even tho I am an earth venus I cannot stand being in a boring/dry relationship (that’s my 9h venus speaking also)

taurus venus: I feel like we’d really vibe or get along of some sort but also many hiccups considering the fact we’re both earth signs and want things our own way but besides that I feel like the loyalty would be matched depending on the house and aspects they tbh but definitely the person I would love too go shopping with and restaurants to just have fun

gemini venus: ok Ik this placement is very controversial too some but I think they would be the best partners/people too have in my circle realistically I would love someone who is constantly down to do anything, flirty , funny asf and very communicative about Ik and any topic. I would definitely not get bored being around them I just love gemini venus in my life because Ik we would never be bored/dry and me being easily bored and always wanting stuff to do/talk about gemini is my first choice<33OH AND PLUS VERY VERY OBSERVANT AND THOUGHTFUL.

cancer venus: they’d be the type too get easily jealous but passive aggressive, I feel like we would kind of get along but I’m 100% we would at the same time especially with cancer being ruled by the moon and a water sign my scorpio moon would love someone like that like just the deep conversations and understanding of eachother would be immaculate. But also someone who reciprocates the energy for me like I do for them yess plsss gimme them!!!! I don’t know many cancer Venuses personally but this is just my general observation.

leo venus: I’ve seen and been around a very few leo Venuses and they are loyal to the core , I think we would get along great but have some hiccups because with leo being all about them and what they need or what I could never settle down with them but I feel like the love and affection would be matched for the most part.

virgo venus: don’t know abt virgo Venuses that much either but from observation I feel like they’d be pratical and helpful in any situation especially when I need advice about people or something I just know they’d provide me with all their observations and information about the person in question. As for a dating type I feel like idk we’d get along but have some hiccups especially since they would be all about routine and perfection but my aquarius 6th just wouldn’t vibe with that , like I said I would have to observe the person first tho.

libra venus: I would say we’d be good friends all about aesthetics , communication and quality time is just my love language as well. But the indecision I mean I’m indecisive asf my self so I can’t say too much because that would talking about myself loll I’ve observed libra venus and they seem like very passive aggressive people when in love unless they really bond/vibe with you.

scorpio venus: my sister sign lmaoo I would say no not really because of the possessiveness and obsession I could not stand someone asking a ton of unnecessary questions and being a weird person when I want to talk or hangout with someone else. But I love the loyalty they would bring to the table and just turn bring thoughtful , deep and meaningful conversations/gestures they would do simply because they are genuine and care.

sagittarius venus: ok I same thing for I said for gemini venus just having someone to go on adventures with and explore it just sounds like 😀🤌. Plus I love when people are positive and optimistic so definitely the people I would love to have reminding me too never give up and too keep going , I feel like the reason why I think we’d be a good match is because I’m a 9H venus myself so that could be very biased but at the same time awesome. Along with us learning foreign languages and talking about our beliefs/opinions without being judged means a lot to me yea we’d have our disagreements but other than that the love and passion would be mutual.

capricorn venus: pragmatic and mature people>> I would love to have someone who is mature in love and knows how to love , or know what it means to be in committed relationship!! Along with knowing their boundaries and where they stand is a huge green flag for me. Along with being ambitious and goal-oriented I AM ALL ABOUT HAVING GOALS AND AMBITIONS so people who know what to do in the future and has a plan they have all my love and support and Ik they’d support my goals and ambitions as well.

aquarius venus: hmm very interesting and intelligent people are the best I would definitely love for them too tell me random shit they know or some shit that they know especially if it’s something that only they know about. I feel like they could tell me anything weird/awkward and I would listen for HOURSS but also people who are concerned for other people’s wellbeing and how to help the community is something that would grab my attention so fast along with them being very futuristic , eccentric I think my weirdness wouldn’t be judged at all.

pisces venus: the type of people that I could go to a art or music festival with and someone who is just really and deeply in-tune with their emotions. I really love people who are passionate and are willing to share/express their emotions without shame or feeling like they’d be judged.

(This is just based off of opinions and observations so don’t take anything personal)

[uchihaharlot]

Happy Smutty Shisui Sunday! I didn’t forget about my man.

This week I went to hell and back and back and back some more. Hardly had any Shisui or Uchiha simpy time for myself. 😩😭 Completely missed my ovulation horny thirst week!! I hope this makes up for it, to you and to me.

Ovulating or not, I’m still unbearably horny for this man.

NSFW; Shisui has been busting fat loads of his cum inside of you. In hopes that you’d end up pregnant & yes, I know Shisui’s birthday has passed. Consider this some sort of retroactive celebration on top of Shisui smutty Sundays.

WC: an ungodly amount of horny brain goes brrrr; mostly edited. My eye started to twitch so yea.

Well. Obviously after about six months he starts to think something is wrong with him or you. He wasn’t entirely shy when it came to making sure he thrusted his warm cum deep at your cervix. And even so far as to repeatedly fucking one load after another into you. You just sort of figured it was that Uchiha breeding kink and let him have his way to sate the desire. That maybe he couldn’t help it and that might be why you ended up beneath him for hours, folded like a pretzel and flipped over to be taken any which way.

Certainly the breeding was partial to it. Shisui really was and at some point admits to hoping you’d grow round with his baby. “…can we talk?”

Was there something wrong with the swim team? Last he checked; or well the yearly physical. They were in prime condition to root and grow inside your womb. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with him. And maybe he peeped your file and saw everything was in working order for you as well.

“Shisui-kun.” You sit with him at the table; the concern that spreads his face is immaculate. “What’s wrong?”

How does he say this without coming off as weird and maybe even a bit creepy. “I’ve been trying to get you pregnant for the better half of a year and …” full stop when you grab his hand and squeeze.

“Oh, Shisui.” That soft smile he loves so much stretches your lips. “It’s severely impossible at this time.”

Severely?

Well how in the nine circles to hell was that? ‘At this time?’ So it could or had been possible before. “Explain this, please?” It sounded so desperate when he didn’t mean it to. The words wrapped around his larynx and dried his throat, and barely sounded normal as they scratched their way out.

“It’s called birth control.” You try not to laugh, how was he unaware of this? You’ve mentioned it in the past. Maybe long ago.

“No, I would have seen you take the pill. I figured you had stopped since…well, since things are more serious.” How cute was Shisui when he struggled to express his doubts, second guessing if he was full of it or not. Certainly he knew there were other forms of contraception. The look on his face as you explain what an intrauterine device was had you almost in tears of laughter. Even someone like Obito was aware of this.

To think that a measly piece of plastic wrapped in copper was interfering with his family planning!? This was inconceivable—literally! He was an Uchiha for fucks sake. How could something with no substance other than metal and plastic prevent such powerful genes from taking root. This simply did not sit well, but eventually passed as Shisui went through the phases of realization. It almost felt wasteful to think how many times he’s tirelessly laid you down, had you cramped beneath him. Talking filth of spilling into you and milking himself bone dry.

Hot and sweaty; orgasm after orgasm. Even a silent prayer to the gods that he would be blessed with a next of kin. The sour look on his face before he sheepishly smiles said it all as you speak. “I am sorry this disappoints you.”

In reality, couples talked before they had children. Shisui was an entirely different breed of man. He didn’t operate on reckless abandon but to say that the shock value of your uterus not being at his disposal was not something he counted on when he was purposely trying to fuck a baby in you. He almost looks pitiful.

Shrugs it off. Patching up his wounded ego, “it’s fine.” When it didn’t really feel fine. A small part of you felt guilty seeing him so forlorn over it.

And another deplorably sick part of you revels in it, how desperate was Shisui to make your body his in more ways than one. “We can talk about it sometime? Typically…this is a group decision.” With what little words he could manage now, Shisui deliberated the ordeal wasn’t in his favor.

That stung a bit. His irrational need to pump you full of his own personal brand of Uchiha specimen completely outweighed the rational sense of procreation. It was a dual effort and Shisui, too, felt a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was. You can see it, feel it. How adorably cute he looked with puppy dog reds. So caught in his emotions that the forehead kiss you planted took a beat for it to register. “No harm, no foul.” Your forgiveness was much appreciated. You took it far better than he anticipated in this instance.

From that day forward, a new idea populated in your mind. It was stupid as all hell, but what a better birthday gift than the very thing that tormented his ability to impregnate you. It crossed your doctor as weird when you asked if you could take it with you. Usually it was a firm no, this was a biological hazard. But having the privilege of dating one of the most influential men of all times, from the most prestigious clans the Hidden Village ever produced. The only time you would ever pull that sort of weight over your head. Shisui would surely not appreciate you using the Uchiha name to get what you wanted.

Much less to instill fear into the doctor with no recourse to back it up.

But it works in your favor. Wrapped up cute, the device rests in a small box. Of course this wasn’t a real gift, it was a gag. The real gift was some specially designed and crafted ninja tools, a subscription to that expensive ass hair care he bought throughout the year and well. Your undying love and affection of course. What better way to bring a man to his knees when he came home from a long mission than to tell him that your womb was for the taking? It was hardly romantic, how were you supposed to know this man would froth at the mouth as he entered the kitchen.

Well, you should have known. The skimpy crotchless lingerie you are wearing was a welcome surprise. Then bending over into the oven as if you hadn’t noticed he was there, I mean you did. Looking over your shoulder told you all you needed to see. That thousand yard stare as the kaleidoscope behind his eyes wound tight and instantaneously bled red. Even further widening to elicit what most would call formidable. It was a treat for you when Shisui salaciously threatened you with his Mangekyō. This was a special occasion.

There wasn’t any part of you that his eyes mapped out and took in as you approached him.

“Happy birthday.” You whisper, leaning up to pepper a soft kiss on either cheek before his eagerly opening lips nip at you. “Hungry?”

How easily she looked into the Mangekyō as if it wasn’t a loaded gun. “That’s an understatement.” His hands have been running up and down your sides already, thumbing at the lacy material that did fuck all for the imagination. It literally wrote the entire thing for him. “What’s this?”

Shisui obviously knew it was his birthday, though he hadn’t expected this display of affection. Ok; that’s a blatant lie. He did expect some sort of celebration but this was on an entirely different realm than what he considered.

The opener gag gift. That little wrapped box was easy tore through in swift fashion. Though, its contents perplexed him further. Looking to you again, red silk pearls spin wildly. “That was the baby inhibitor.”

Oh. This was the thing. “Was?” Mission lag had not been kind to Shisui, it was a rough few days. Too many stalled attempts before it was accomplished. But being a genius didn’t leave him entirely ignorant. “Oh.” Like, now it clicks. That this—this exact tiny thing was the actual thing. Which meant, “you’ve been liberated.”

It was a funny way to put it, but to Shisui it meant everything. It meant that he could actually move forward with you. Not that you hadn’t already been moving forward, but this was the sort of progression he desired most.

“…has it?” He asked again, your silence only made him reconsider, and as you held his face with both palms. You gave Shisui the most tender kiss, full-mouthed and deep, he whispered through broken kisses. “Are you truly prepared for this?”

Those words alone send a heat to pool in your lower stomach. That and Shisui’s hands gripping you tightly as they trembled at the curve of your waist. Whether it be excitement or lack of sleep. Probably lack of an actual meal too. He didn’t quite feel like eating dinner in this moment.

“The situation has been rectified.” Those simple yet effective words had more of a profound impact on Shisui. Had you not realized this was something he desperately needed? “It will take a few cycles—”

Words were futile for a man in Shisui’s position. This exact moment found you backwards walked in a series of scorching katon kisses. He nearly singed the back of your throat when he kissed you this way. Maddening him further was the soft touch to his belt as you unclamp it and untucked his cock. Searing more the same kisses your jaw, throat and chest when you stroked his flaming erection. How deliciously sweet but spicy that Uchiha katon tasted as it sat in the back of your esophagus.

Your dainty bodice was left somewhere in between the hall bathroom and the master bedroom door. You were already squirming on two fingers knuckle deep before your head hit the bed. Scoffed at the loss of his cock in your hand. That crotchless little thing had Shisui spreading your slick and tonguing at your clit before you put on whatever act you had planned.

“Your…gifts.” A hopeless mewl when you came on his mouth the first time, Shisui was far too gone.

“…fuck the gifts.” This was more precious than any gift, that you were fully capable of doing him the honors of taking his genetic material and making it into something so valuable and beautiful. “…I don’t care if you take to my seed today, tomorrow or next month. This right here is for practice.”

It wasn’t any sort of sex that you and Shisui had before. Sure, sex was sex when you looked at it from any angle. But this? This was being caged under a man who had little resolve left with his actions. By no means did he hurt or leave a mark that wasn’t planted with the utmost respect for you and your body. Red marks on either side of your neck, chest and thighs. Once Shisui determines you were properly worked out enough for him.

The twitch in his cock as he luridly strokes himself before you, wild eyed and tinted. As he divides you over his length, he shucks both your knees with his arms and full on dips the entirety of his hips into the padding of your ass. It’s almost painful when he presses into you this way.

Only then did he fuck you mercilessly. The consistent deep thrusts are the first to make your eyes roll shut. Hardly ever did he use his teeth, but when you moaned out his name like that. Needy and wanting. There wasn’t anything else he thought of than to bite every inch of skin his mouth came across. You were cramped up so snug beneath him, completely immobilized and at his mercy. The subtle touch of his testicles on a full cock length thrust every now and then. His rhythm unrelenting. Shisui attentively listens to every soft mewl and whimper out of your precious mouth when his lips and fingers don’t have it preoccupied.

But damn did he love the sound of you moaning around his fingers. Choked out on three of them, as your ‘cute little pussy’—or so he called it. Fluttered and milked another deeply buried load into you, at this point he was merely tap to release. Bottoming out into a seemingly bottomless pool of his own cum. It seeped and spilled on to the nice silk sheets you intricately place earlier today.

The dull pulse of another orgasm as he continued to pump so slow, but incredulously deep. As if he purposely never fully fucked his cock into you; which was a far stretch. The many times Shisui inundated the swell of your cunt with his ever throbbing need and used it as a dump was more than you could ever count. How effortlessly he coaxed three more orgasms out of you, each one spasms and threatens another deposit out of him.

This was undoubtedly breeding. No way to describe it overwise. If you hadn’t of guess it by now, the things he said to you were more than an indication of the long night ahead of you. Powerless, but pleased to no end. You didn’t think however many orgasms he worked out of you were possible. You lay almost limp and useless. Along for the ride. Not to mention how sticky and nasty your legs felt. The amount of pain this man’s testicles would bear tomorrow morning was worth while. As if continuing to thrust into you would make his cum leak out less, Shisui was operating on what you assumed was less than half a brain cell. His eyes were lost, distant. Even with the Mangekyō boring into you this way his foresight that he was thoroughly finished hadn’t caught up.

You patted his cheek lovingly. It took a real special woman such as yourself to understand a man like Shisui.

“…Shisui-kun. You can stop now.” It wasn’t a plea, more of a distraction. There hadn’t been any warmth filling you from with in. Just whatever he managed to slosh around inside of you. It caked your insides.

But your seeet voice thrummed through his ears and his heart sank, “…oh …gods.” It was that moment he regained some semblance of control. Having fucked you on autopilot. The apologies flood as the kisses peppered your cheeks.

Here you lie, plugged. Stuffed to the brim of your cunt with his cum. Whatever didn’t manage to leak out still ever present inside you. The viscosity of it only thickens as it sits. So gentle when he slips out, the massive bubbles as his cum fully empties out of you. Shisui didn’t realize the reach of his own body. Scooping you up, he plops you into the tub.

The clock reads three hours that dinner had been sitting on the counter. The warmth of the water soothes your aching legs and back. Shisui hardly used his full strength to outmaneuver you, but this time he hadn’t the slightest how far he took it.

“I’m fine.” You smile, wholly fucked and tired. “…it was just for practice right?”

Shisui ran both hands through damp curls. He had forgotten all that was said. “It won’t be anything like that again.”

But what if you had liked it? “I’m partial to it…” dipping just below the water, up to your nose and not averting your gaze from his. “It was hot.” There you said it.

Shisui smiles the width of his mouth. Hot, you thought it was hot to be fucked like a cocksleeve? “Is that so?”

“…yes.” There wasn’t any way around it. “Just maybe, we take turns?” This was something Shisui could work with.

Slipping into the tub with you, behind you. Shisui leans you against his chest. “I can manage that.” When you mentioned it was rather endearing aside from being mostly prone. He remembers, “about those gifts?”

“After you reheat dinner.” The soft white of the foamy bath water is washed over you by Shisui with a loofah.

He could do that. He would do anything you ask of him. Especially knowing that from this moment forward, he would be undoubtedly indebted to you once that beautiful body of yours was swollen for him.

[keen-observations-x]

Keen observation: The Kny "Ship wars" are getting out of hand

(Disclaimer: This post has NOT been made to promote // encourage hate of ANY kind - it is simply me passing my opinion on recent events in this particular fandom)

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Let's begin. This post has been made to deliver my take on the, uh... insanely inappropriate actions of the fanbase for the popular anime and manga series: Demon slayer - Kimetsu No Yaiba - from the futile beginnings of shipping characters.

And do not mistake this for me saying people should not be shipping characters at all - I am a Multishipper myself, and I do think it is nice to see people coming up with beautiful art for them, and I have read some fics that have genuinely been so interesting I almost forget that it is cannon deviant.

What I AM saying is that people are literally allowed to do literally whatever they want. People want to ramble on about how immaculate their very specific Rarepair is? Let them. You see someone making art for a ship you don't like? Sit back and appreciate the art - Let them.

But the problem really begins when people start getting fiercely overprotective of their ships. It does seem a little silly to me, even as I'm typing this like why is this such an insane problem lmao??

And it's not even just limited to the Kny fandom - the HH (Hazbin Hotel) and BNHA//MHA (Boku No Hero Academia // My Hero Academia) fandoms are probably the best example of the shows getting low-key ruined by the fanbase - EVEN IN TADC WHERE THE CREATOR SPECIFICALLY SAID THAT THEY DO NOT CARE WHO PEOPLE SHIP. And I really don't think the media should be dragged down by a few people taking things way too far.

And if you have been following the drama going on in the Demon Slayer fandoms, particularly here on Tumblr and Pinterest - you already know what ships I'll be talking about.

*drumroll*

SaneGiyu // GiyuShino.

Like I previously mentioned, I am a Multishipper, and while I can appreciate GiyuShino - Like it is a cute ship, I see the vision and there is a little bit of evidence that can be interpreted as fuel for the ship, I used to ship it myself, by the time I had finished the Manga I was fully shipping SaneGiyu. Not to the point I say it's cannon per say, but where I can see the chemistry and I will use things from the manga to back up why the ship is plausible.

(This is such a stupid post) But then there are some people who ship SaneGiyu who are being toxic to GiyuShino shippers // Saying things like "Giyú is clearly gay!!" And I mean there is a pretty good case to be made that Tomioka is not interested in women, it's still just a headcannon and you literally cannot force someone else to think that??

Or "Shinobu is clearly a Lesbian!!" I personally like this headcannon, she is just too much of a girl boss to be with a man, but then looking at canon material, there isn't much to go off of that shows her to have an interest in women! - and no hate to ShinoMitsu shippers - it's cute x

"Please - the age gap is insane" And you know what? Fair enough. It is fair enough. She is 18 and he is 21. And that is a three year age gap, and in some cases there would be a rift in maturity, but I think that can fly out the window, as Kocho is clearly more mature than her age.

But then you need to look at context for the time and it isn't too outlandish. But then in the moderns School AU, hell no. That same age gap, in modern times with him being a teacher and her being a student?? THAT'S WEIRD.

But then on the other hand there are some GiyuShino shippers that make the opposite arguments; "Giyú is clearly straight" (Like I said, there is a clear case to be made that Tomioka has little to NO interest in women) or "Sanemi and Giyú hate each other!!" (That was a case of miscommunication between them, and was resolved by the manga's end, they are now - in cannon - seemingly good friends)

BUT.

I have now seen multiple accounts on Pinterest making Pins telling people to K!ll themselves - BECAUSE OF A SHIP??

Like excuse me?! They literally said they think these two fictional characters would be a cute couple - AND YOU TOLD THEM TO K!LL THEMSELF??? It's disgusting to say the least.

People: shipping is supposed to be a silly goofy fun thing we do to show our interests and explore AU's - NOT AN OPPORTUNITY TO HURT PEOPLE OVER SHIPPING. FICTIONAL. CHARACTERS.

But if you guys ever:

See people Proshipping? - report it if you want to.

See art for a ship you don't like? - hide it from your feed.

See people hating on a ship you like? - Remove / Block them.

See people leaving nasty comments on your // other people's posts? - Remove the comments, block them and report the usuer.

Just BLOCK the people causing the issues - do not become one of them.

TLDR: Let people ship what they want to PLEASE guys, lets just have fun with our fandoms x.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

😈 pretty please :D

😈 - "I Don't Wanna Miss You Like This (Come Back, Be Here)" or the 'Homophobic!Marisol' fic!

(okay, so yes, homophobic marisol is a big part of this fic, but I'm posting a scene of Helena's A+ parenting instead because plot <3)

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When she came by to pick Chris up, he had told Pepa he was having a serious conversation with Marisol, the woman letting out a relieved sigh of ‘Gran Dios Todopoderoso! Por fin!’ She wished him luck, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, followed by a soft pat, before reminding him that she loves him.

Thanking her once more for taking Chirstopher, he shut the door behind them, and immediately began to stress-pace the living room. He had gotten a text from her earlier saying she was going to be a little late- she had apparently gotten a little more hands-on on the job today than originally planned and she wanted to go home and take a shower beforehand.

He walked around the living room- nervously tidying up things that didn’t necessarily need to be tidied up, but Eddie was about to tell his girlfriend of four months that she needed to more-or-less back off, so excuse him for being a little fidgety. He was in the middle of organizing the stack of magazines on the coffee table when he heard a knock on the door. 

He made his way over to the door, opening it to reveal Helena standing on his doorstep.

“Mom-” he blinked- noting that it was only her and not both of his parents. “What are you doing here? Where’s Papá?”

“Your father was in the shower at the hotel when I left,” Helena told him. “I wanted us to have a chat- one on one.”

“Marisol is coming over soon,” Eddie told her, desperately trying to avoid another thing preventing him from having this talk with her.

“I won’t be long,” Helena sighed. “I know that Josephina has Christopher, so I can imagine what you’re going to be doing tonight.”

Eddie cringed at the implication. He wanted so badly to say no, but he knew she wouldn’t leave without a fight, and honestly Eddie didn’t have it in him for that at that moment, so he simply moved aside with a sigh, allowing her entry.

She looked around at the immaculate living room in front of her- noting the results of Eddie’s stress-cleaning. She glanced over at him with a scrutinizing glare. 

“You cleaned,” she pointed out.

“I clean when I’m nervous,” Eddie muttered. “I’ve done that since middle school.”

“What do you have to be nervous about?” Helena hummed, arching an eyebrow as she sat down on the couch- Eddie in the armchair across from her.

“I told you that Marisol was coming over,” Eddie replied. “We’re having a pretty serious conversation about our relationship, and I’m trying not to psych myself out about it.”

Helena frowned. “Seriously, Eddie? Your son was in the hospital two days ago and you’re sleeping with your girlfriend for the first time now?”

Eddie’s eyes grew wide as his face scrunched up at that. 

“Wha-?” he shook his head. “No, absolutely not!”

“Eddie, I thought Shannon was a lesson to you about that,” Helena scoffed. “Even with protection it’s not 100% effective.”

“I am not having sex with Marisol, mom,” Eddie sighed. “Ay, Dios- even if I was, it would be none of your business. What I do with my life doesn’t concern you.”

“But it does concern your son,” Helena clapped back. “You aren’t the only one affected by this, Eddie. Your son needs a stable environment to be raised in.”

“And I have given him that stable environment since the day his mother left the first time,” Eddie snapped. “I have done everything to make sure Christopher has the best upbringing I can give him.”

“But is it the best upbringing he can have, Eddie?” Helena asked, crossing her arms. “You work long, varying hours- you’ve almost died on the job multiple times- you were shot in the middle of LA. Think of how that is affecting Christopher? He has to live every day wondering if his dad is going to come home. And Marisol? Don’t get me wrong Eddie, she is a sweet girl, and I think the two of you would make a beautiful home together, but this is not the time for any of that. And then all of this nonsense with Buck- Christopher can’t handle all of this at once.”

“You don’t know my son,” Eddie seethed, “You don’t know who he has grown into since we left El Paso. You don’t get to tell me what he can or cannot handle, and you most certainly don’t get to tell me when and what decisions I make for our lives.”

“I just want what’s best for him-” Helena started.

“I’m what’s best for him, mom!” Eddie shouted. “Me! No, I’m not a perfect father. In fact I fuck up in some way every day! Just yesterday, I realized I had forgotten to pick up the cereal he likes when I was at the store. This morning, I had forgotten to put a signed permission slip in his bookbag and had to drive to the school to give it to them.”

“He needs his family, Eddie,” Helena argued. 

“He has his family,” Eddie spat. “He has me. He has Bobby and Athena who are more grandparents to him than you’ve ever been. He has Hen and Karen- Chimney and Maddie. I may not have Buck, but Chris has him. All of them are his family- our family. And this is where he belongs. With me.”

Helena stared at him for a moment, her hands balled in fists at her side as she stared at him- jaw clenched and eyes raging. She shut her eyes as she took a steady calming breath before fixing him with an icy glare.

“I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, Edmundo,” Helena said, calmly. “But If we have to, your father and I will take you to court. You’ve played this game with Christopher’s life for too long, and we won’t sit by and watch you drag him down with you. I said that to you once before you ran away- obviously the message didn’t take.”

It took everything in Eddie to bite his tongue before lashing out at her again. Instead, he took his own calming breath before walking over to the front door and opening it. 

“Get out,” he told her. “Don’t you ever come back unless I say you can. You aren’t welcome near me or my son anymore.”

Helena looked at him for a few moments of silence before storming out of the house, pulling the door closed sharply behind her. A few moments later he heard her rental car door slam before she was driving away. Eddie stood behind the door for a few moments, banging on it with his fist once before turning and looking at the living room- still spotless as it had been. 

Before he had a chance to stop and think, he walked over into the living room, glancing around at it for a moment, before shoving the tray of magazines off the coffee table and dropping down onto the footstool of the armchair. He dropped his head into his hands as he began to let violent sobs rip through his body- feeling every single emotion drain out of him as he sat wrecked in his living room.

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