#I’m not an old who watcher

[littler3d]

Didn’t understand the Susan twist until another post explained it was old who. Still confused on why they put so much emphasis on his granddaughter though

[in-tua-deep]

So I followed you years ago for the first season of tua. It has been years and now tua has come to an end. I just watched the final season. Did you or will you watch it? I might not be able to recommend it. Which is such a shame. The first season was amazing and will be forever one of my favorite shows.

I have a terrible confession to make…

I’ve only fully watched season one of the umbrella academy. I started season 2 and haven’t finished it yet 😭

[ghosty-files]

sorry watcher boys i’m not paying for a subscription service i pirate almost everything i watch that’s not on netflix and that’s only a thing i access through my parents’ account lol. also i just don’t think this is a smart move and i don’t think they have the proper marketing and content amount for a full streaming service in comparison to, say, dropout yk?

[blitheringbongus]

Can't believe Scar saw a rapidly approaching, dishevled mumbo and went "he's so cute." I need to run unorthodox experiments on them.

IKR SAME OMG

They’re literally perfect for each other <- delusional

But seriously they have so much lore together in my silly brain and the few interactions they do have (WHICH HAS BEEN INCREASING A LOT LATELY MAY I ADD) has been FUELING the fire rapidly and gods gods GODS do I have many thoughts about them

[girlspecimen]

i keep thinking about this guy who came into my work today and he wasn’t really like conventionally attractive but he had the most adorable features ive ever seen on an adult. his face and his body looked soft and round and he had giant brown eyes like a calf. clearest shiniest skin i’ve ever seen on a man and shy pouty lips and his cheeks were like naturally very ruddy he looked almost cherubic. was very soft spoken and thanked me profusely; tipped me 5 dollars after i talked him up. he was such a doll-like person, from appearances at least — truly the highlight of an otherwise incredibly shitty day. i’d keep him in my purse like a sonny angel figurine

[richhietozier]

very vaguely working on a buffy the vampire slayer au fic rn (that i think will be centered around steddie) where nancy is the slayer, eddie is a vampire, and steve, robin, and jonathan are nancy’s scooby gang

[stewykablooey]

the ben affleck kenstewy truther rabbit hole goes so deep like stewy is barely a character to the average succession fan yes he is a fan favorite but not outside of fans a small circle of gays, ppl horny for arian moayed, brown guys who idolize him, finance guys who idolize him, and brown finance guys who idolize him Certainly not your average old man succession watcher and certainly not. actor director jlo ex-husband phoenix back tattoo ben affleck. i would assume. and then like. to not just name drop stewy in relation to succession confident the average audience member would know who he is but. to know. and name drop the kenstewy lore. describing it as ‘an affair with stewy’ so pregnantly with lore. i’m asking how benjamin. im asking how and Where ben how did u know and where did you find out and Who told you like was he just like. a stewy fan with a critical enough eye to notice. or did he stumble across something and when he stumbled across that something did he also and/or was it actually because OF the mattfleck kenstewy parallels like. did he know about kenstewy and through found out about mattfleck or did he know about mattfleck and through it discover stewy HOW long if the former has been known. tho. was it s1 was it the jerk off hand motion followed by bathroom blowjob subtext because yeah man like who can blame you was it pusillanimous fool’s gold how does he feel about pusillanimous fool’s gold was it the HUG i bet it was actually arian moayed you made an acting choice to close your eyes and started a conspiracy and also.

[violetbeauregut]

In Defense of Feedism

I was absolutely struck when I read  @fatliberation‘s beautiful, vulnerable post the other day. They always have brilliant ideas and they show unfailing grace and kindness to everyone, despite a ton of rude, ill-informed backlash (I would 100% recommend following them). 

I can’t stop thinking about the reactions to that post and how incredibly strange it is to have to tiptoe around feedism (to use an umbrella term) in a movement that is supposed to be centered around ending the oppression of fat people. 

I can understand why fat people who are not feedists would be weary or even repulsed by this kink. From the outside it may seem degrading and manipulative that the language and insults used against fat people are replicated in the bedroom. It is also harmful to be fetishized when you do not want to be fetishized, both in real life and online. 

But these are the only points I’ve heard against feedism that I consider to be a legitimate argument in the discourse of fat liberation, as these are the only claims against feedism I’ve come across that are not based in fatphobia. If you are in favor of fat liberation, then you must see fatness as morally neutral. Therefore, the choice to gain weight is not inherently “good” or “bad,” it is instead a matter of autonomy– a right that should be granted to everyone, regardless of size. 

The major issue with feedism is the same issue that permeates all kink and, by extension, all sexuality: consent. There are feedists, particularly feeders, who fetishize all fat people, regardless of their wishes; feedists who try to force fat people to participate in kink with or without their knowledge or permission. This is abhorrent behavior; there are no excuses for it. But the problem here is a violation of consent and not the kink itself. The unethical practice of kink does not make the kink unethical. And while feedees are often disregarded in discussions of feedism and fat liberation (which I have already talked about in depth here), there are most assuredly fat feedees, like myself, who are fully consenting to fat fetish play. 

While I can only speak for myself, I know that I am not the only person who developed this kink because of weight-related trauma. When you grow up fat, when you are forced to go to Weight Watchers at seven years old, your brain comes to associate fat as taboo and taboo as sexy–but it goes beyond an attraction to something risky or frowned upon. 

I live my life as a fat woman; I am fat at the doctor’s office and fat in tiny airplane seats and I am especially fat as a feedee. No matter if I’m engaging with my kink or not, I am fat and I don’t get to stop being fat outside of my bedroom. Out of all of the scenarios where I am existing in my fat body, engaging in kink play is the only one where I am experiencing pleasure because of my body, not despite it. It’s arousing to be praised for the thing that once made you hate yourself. It’s arousing to engage with something you fear or that has harmed you in a safe, controlled context where you have all the power to make it stop. 

What anti-feedist fat liberationists need to understand is that feedism is, at its core, a resistance to fatphobia. When you see things that are typically fatphobic in feedist play– terms like “pig,” “cow,” “tubby,” etc. and comments about being “out of shape” or “ruined” by fat– it is not a replication of weight stigma, but a subversion of it. Feedism takes the harmful stereotypes of fatness and robs them of their power by putting them in a new context; a context where fatness is so desirable that feedists want more of it. By using the language and misconceptions of fatness to give and receive pleasure instead of to oppress, feedism not only creates a safe space to heal from fatphobic trauma, but it empowers fatness– it empowers fat people, which is supposed to be the goal of fat liberation.

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Dancing with the stars Steddie au 😫

Steve is one of the professional dancers on the show and is paired with frontman of Corroded Coffin, Eddie Munson, who can barely walk in a straight line when sober.

Eddie doesn’t take the gig at first bc he knows that he’s going to be the first one to be kicked out and he doesn’t want to ruin that for the dancer that he’s paired with. Chrissy, CC’s manager, ends up convincing him since it would be great pr and would help reinforce his whole “don’t knock it ‘till you try it” attitude.

The first time they meet is super awkward and Steve keeps making these little bitchy remarks that has Eddie falling head over heels for this quick-witted prep of a man— not to mention that he has a great ass.

Much to Eddie’s surprise, they make it to the finals and Eddie has gained some balance on his legs and a lot more rhythm. (His fans are raving over the fact that he doesn’t look like a baby deer when he does more than walk, plus the newfound, wiry muscles that emerged on his arms and legs were much appreciated).

When they are training for the final dance, Eddie starts to make each session longer than it has to be because he doesn’t want to stop hanging out with Steve. Over these couple of weeks, he’s fallen totally in love with Steve and everyone but Steve seems to notice.

They are waiting to go on stage when Eddie looks into Steve’s eyes and says, “I want you to know that whatever happens, I’m taking you on a date after this.”

Steve just nods and says, “thank god.”

They perform a salsa that has the crowd screaming when they get into their final pose: Steve’s leg wrapped around Eddie’s waist as Eddie dips him.

They don’t win the show, which is totally fine with the both of them. Brad Pitt won with his crowd appeal and gyrating hips.

Steve and Eddie are just happy that they met. Even with their second place status, most watchers of the show deemed them the true winners.

Then they go out on a date and fall in love and get married and adopt kids and grow old together and they stitch TikToks of them reacting to the edits that people have made.

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

[orinfucker]

cravings

summary: your desperation to learn about your past has led you to the door of the one and only enver gortash, and he is more then happy to refresh your memory.

warnings: fem!reader, durge!reader, blood, slight manipulation (gortash), suggestive, making out, finger sucking, pet names, dom!gortash

note: small drabble of durge x gortash because i am sooo normal about them! might write a part two to this but i’m not sure yet.

you knew this was wrong; sneaking out of camp in the midst of the night to meet with a man you had no knowledge of. but, who could blame you? everything he said about your urges wasn’t wrong, only someone who experienced them first hand would have the information he possessed.

so here you are, blindly trudging your aching legs up the staircase towards enver gortash’s office. you had your doubts about the man obviously, the way karlach had described him made your blood boil with anger; how dare he hurt one of your companions so badly. you knew this was a carelessly bad decision, but you needed to know more about this ‘past life’ of yours, and gortash seemed to have answers you craved.

“second door on the right.” you whispered aloud, reminding yourself of the steel watcher’s directions to the lord’s office. once you reached the polished door of his quarters, your body froze for just a second. was this really your only option? could you live knowing nothing of who you truly were? with a shaky breath, you curled your hand into a fist and knocked onto the wood of the door.

“ah, come in please.” a heavy voice spoke, the sounds of paper rustling echoing filling your senses. you fiddled with handle before finally opening the entrance to reveal the man you’d sought out: lord enver gortash. his presence was overwhelming to say the least, he held himself with such confidence it made the depths of your body ache. “i’m shocked to see you here, my dear. have you had a change of heart since the last we spoke?” you swallowed nervously, trying to search for the words to say, but nothing came up.

“perhaps we should make ourselves comfortable, to speak plainly with one another, yes?” gortash spoke, his eyes seeming to pierce right into your mind. a simple nod was your response before descending into his office, taking a seat at one of the chairs placed in front of his desk. “i, well, wanted to speak with you about my past.” gortash glanced towards you, and then a smirk plastered itself onto his face. “of course dear, ask me anything you would like.” the sultry tone of his voice sent a jolt of arousal through your body, one that felt oddly familiar to you.

“you’ve told me of my urges, something that is deeply personal to me,” you took a breath before continuing, “but i want, no, i need to know more about us.” gortash’s face twisted into a more sinister one before an amused laugh exited his throat. “you’ve been thinking about me then, is that it?” he began, leaning back into his chair as his eyes bore into your own. you shifted in your seat before shyly nodding in response. “when i heard your voice, it held such a familiarity, yet i have no clue who you are.”

gortash stood in his chair, circling around towards you own before kneeling to match your height. “that’s because we were something much more than business partners, my dear.” your face flushed over with red, immediately understanding the intent behind his words. “that.. can’t be right. i would never sleep with the likes of you.” you spat out in denial, refusing to believe you’d stoop to that level. “yet here you are, sitting in my office, begging to know about us. it seems to me that you want to indulge in our old ways.”

one of gortash’s hands began to trail over your knee, slowly edging up towards the clothed flesh of your thigh. you peered down at him for a moment, a feeling of lust clouding over your mind as the ministrations of his hand continued. “your body craves my touch, it aches to be used by me again.” you so badly wanted to refuse him, to feel repulsed at the feeling of his touch upon you, but every part of yourself cried out towards him.

gortash observed the way your face contorted from one of disgust, to one of desire. you felt an insatiable hunger rise within you, and without thought you leaned down to capture his lips in a messy kiss. the man below you groaned at the feeling, his teeth brushing against the flesh of your mouth before biting into your bottom lip, letting pecks of blood slip through them. you felt his tongue lick away the metallic substance before finally pushing away, heavy sighs leaving the both of you.

“my love, how i’ve missed you.” gortash breathed out as he stood from his knees, letting one of his hands come down to caress the side of your cheek. his thumb brushed against the fat of your bottom lip, wiping away the blood that was left from your raunchy kiss. “open.” your body could no longer resist; it obeyed every word, every breath that left gortash’s mouth. the flesh of your lips parted as his calloused thumb entered the cavern of your mouth, pressing down on the slimy organ inside before reaching for the back of your throat.

“you always were a nasty little thing.” his words sent chills throughout your body, a gag leaving your throat as his finger sunk deeper into you. “good girl.” gortash slowly removed his finger from you, wiping the spit and saliva away on the sides of your face. you looked up at him with doe eyes, practically begging the man to do anything he wanted to you. gortash took your hand between his own, helping you raise to your feet before guiding your body to lean against the edge of his desk.

“now, we have lots of catching up to do, don’t we pet?”

[wlfchnlv3r]

I had a lapse about a fan of bangchan, who has a boyfriend, and he knows how crazy she is for him. And as some reward or gift, he can contact chan to take his own girlfriend. Is he watching? Chan sounding like "my girl likes it that way, do you see?" As if the boyfriend didn't know how to play.. that sounds so good to me

I like it

Dom!Bangchan x Fem reader x Watcher!Boyfriend

Synopsis: Banchan is an old friend of your boyfriend, he is also an idol you admire. What if your boyfriend asks his friend to fuck you?

Word count: 1.8k

Note: writing this was a wild ride, but it’s not my first rodeo, baby

You and bangchan are sit next to each other on the bed, you don’t know what to do, in the other hand he has already a smirk on his face, and moves his hand right on your tight.

Your boyfriend is in the room, standing in the corner, watching every move you and bangchan make.

Bangchan doesn’t need to wait, he knows how impatient you are, so he just start to undress you, freeing you from your t-shirt, your short and finally from your panties.

You are a nervous wreck “I-i never did…such a thing” you just say.

“Don’t worry, doll, I’m gonna take care of you, I just need your pretty body to stay still for me” he speaks, pushing you down on the bed and bending over you. “Can you do it for me?”.

You nod, watching every move, how his hand gently caress you hips and tight before he steps back and removes his tank top and sweatpants along with his boxers, that he pushes away; You are both naked now.

Your boyfriend eyes narrows a little watching you and Chan, curious to see what his friends is going to do to you.

Bangchan spreads your legs and positions himself between them, leaning to kiss you.

You immediately kiss him back and his tongue slips into your mouth exploring it as much as he can; You melt into the kiss, letting him do anything he wants.

His big hands caress you body finding their way to your pussy and his finger starts to rub your clit making you squirm

You are already so wet, feeling his long fingers drawing circles on your swollen clit is enough to make you go insane; It’s just like a dream, your boyfriend never touches you like this, anyway.

He suddenly stops and pulls his finger on your lips and as you open your mouth he

You see his hard cock against his stomach and in this moment you realise how big he is, and wonder how the hell Is he going to fit in you.

He chuckle lightly at your expression “we will make it fit, doll, don’t worry” he starts to rub his thick tip on your tiny hole, and slide it into you making you moan loudly.

He continues to slip into you “you are doing so good, just another inch, doll”; you gasp feeling him stretching your walls.

Bangchan begins to thrust in you at a normal pace, making you adapt to his length; The room starts to be filled with his moans, your loud whines and the sound of wet skin.

Your boyfriend is still in the corner, and he raises his eyebrow as bangchan thrust in you, thinking about how you are enjoying this a little too much.

“C-chan…” you call him.

“Yeah?" Bangchan asks, breathing heavily, slowing down a little.

“Please- please more”, you plead.

He looks at you with a slight smile, his hands moving to hold onto your hips and speeds up, his breathing a little heavy as he does.

You moan and whimper at every thrust he gives you and your eyes immediately shuts from the enjoyment.

Bangchan holds your hips, moving faster in response to you trying to close your eyes

You try to suppress a loud sob “c-chan..”

"Yeah, doll?" Bangchan eyes are now on you, his breathing is a bit heavier with the pace he's going but he slows a bit as he talks; he knows the effect that he has on you, he knows it too well.

“Don’t- don’t slow down please” you beg.

"Okay princess, whatever you want" Bangchan says, speeding up again, giving you what you want. He keeps his hands on your hips, holding onto you to keep your body still.

You just let him do whatever he wants with you as the sensation of his cock rubbing your walls overwhelms you.

He slows a little, loving the whiny mess that you are and wanting to tease you a little.

“M-mhh…no please-“ your voice comes out as a whisper.

Bangchan slows more, teasing more. He watches you closely, his breathing is slower, more controlled now.

Your boyfriend raises his eyebrow, impressed by the way Bangchan is teasing you, his eyes narrow slightly as he watches you being so lost in his friend.

"No? Then beg." Bangchan says, completely still.

“P-please- just- please” you whines with an unsteady breath.

"Please what, doll? Use your word." He asks, wanting to hear you beg for him to continue.

“ ‘want- need more…” you try to move a little, desperate to feel full again.

He smiles, liking that answer, leans down near your ear and murmurs “If you say so, doll." He press one of many sloppy kiss into your neck, still hovering over you. The he moves to whisper again into your ear, completely still “Are you sure about that princess?".

Your boyfriend stays still, not happy as he watches, but also amused at Bangchan's ability to control you.

You just nod, you really need more, just more of him.

Bangchan kisses your neck once more before pulling back, a smirk on his face "You're going to regret that princess" he says smugly with his hands leaving your hips.

He sits back on his legs, waiting a moment "On your hands and knees, doll” he commands after a moment, his voice firm.

You are take to reality by his order and slowly do what he pleases, positioning on your hands and knees.

"Good girl" Bangchan murmurs, admiring the sight in front of him before reaching out and grabbing your hips, his grip gentle but still possessive.

He seems to be trying to decide what to do first, his grips tightens a bit as he looks you up and down for a moment before one of his hands leaves your waist to grab your hair. He grabs your hair lightly, pulling your head back so your facing him.

You are just so drawn to him that you would do anything he wants you to do.

Chan just smirk in direction of your boyfriend before slipping into you with a firm thrust, that makes you choke a scream.

Your boyfriend still watches starting to feel jealous that Bangchan is in complete control of you, a thing that he is never been able to do.

Bangchan continues going, his hand moving from your hip to your throat gripping it with a tight clench.

Bangchan goes on with his rough pace, his hand still on your throat as he does. He is clearly enjoying the feeling of being in complete control over you.

Your boyfriend is impressed at how quickly and easily you submitted to Bangchan's command to break you, his eyes focused on the sight in front of him. He slightly glances at Bangchan's hand around your throat, almost wanting that to be him doing that to you.

Meanwhile you close your eyes and your legs start shaking from the pleasure, you know you are close. You can feel your walls tightens around his dick.

He glances down, noticing your legs shakes a little “Is my doll getting close already?”asks with a mocking tone.

“Can- I need-“ you cannot speak properly.

"Can you what, princess?" Bangchan asks, his pace slowing a bit while the hand on your throat slightly tightens.

“C- channie- please..can- can I come?” You finally ask without breath.

“Good girl for asking first, but no" Bangchan murmurs, his pace still slow and his hand still around your throat, before he slows completely, completely stopping with his grip still tight on your neck.

Your boyfriend’s jaw drops, completely taken back by the way you're listening so obediently, wishing he had control instead of Bangchan.

“C-chan- please, I’m so close”

Bangchan is still for a moment before responding "Okay, doll" he replies, his grip on your neck loosening a bit so you can breathe easier but he doesn't move.

You pout not feeling him moving inside of you turning your head in his direction.

"Something wrong, doll?” He asks while acting innocent but has a smirk on his face as he glances at you.

“Fill- fill me up- please” you don’t even care your boyfriend is in the room anymore, you just want to fill full of him.

"Are you sure about that?" Bangchan asks, pretending to be a bit more hesitant, his hold on your neck still just loose enough for you to breathe but tight enough to feel it.

Your boyfriend anger is taking control of him completely by now. He wants to be the one controlling you, instead of his friends, this is not what he asked Bangchan to do with you.

“Y-your cum- please I want- want it” you plead again and again.

“whatever you want, doll" Chan says, a smirk on his face as he releases your neck, and glance at your boyfriend saying “my doll likes it that way dude, she wants to be filled up with my seed so badly”.

You aren’t following his little talk with your boyfriend anymore, you don’t actually care to be honest “m-more chan- I want more”.

“You sure about that, doll? If I'm rough I wont be gentle" Bangchan says, still slowly moving, his eyes narrows watching your reaction.

Your boyfriend clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowed, his jealousy, bangchan’ shade and the scene in front of him are driving him crazy.

“I-I know- please” you whine.

"Okay, doll, but don't say I didn't warn you" he just says, he increase his pace again; Tears of pleasure start running down your cheeks, u never felt this way, it was so overwhelming and without warnings you come undone and your walls thighen around his throbbing cock.

Bangchan keeps going, his pace increasing as he hears you whine. "You want me to stop, doll?" He questions, a slight smirk still on his face.

“N-no…” you say as you grips on the sheets thigtly.

"Are you sure?" Chan asks as he moves slower, watching you grab at the sheets under you.

You just nods, letting out a chocked moan.

Your boyfriend is slightly surprised that you're still holding on, his jealousy even stronger, but he can’t look away.

After a few deep thrust you squirt on the sheets because of the overstimulation and no, your boyfriend never lets you feel this good, never.

Bangchan smiles and with a shaky breath he releases into you, looking down at you clearly satisfied. He pulls out and wraps his arms around you, letting you rest on the bed, beside him.

Your boyfriend lets out a small sigh as Bangchan cums into you, wishing it was him, his knuckles white from how hard his nails are digging into his palms before speaking “what the hell did just happened? This wasn’t what I asked you, dude”.

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse

(Comment to be added to the tag list🎐)

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [2/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3115

Summary: The Night’s Watch was a nightmare to the one eyed prince. Longing for his freedom once more, the gods decided to toss a coin and play with him. Meeting a peculiar wildling that could be his answer. And the Targaryen prince could be the answer to her people. 

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”

Aemond knelt before the weirwood tree as he spoke the watch’s oath. Although he was devoted to the seven, a hint of guilt lies deep in his heart. He recalls how his mother devoted her life to the seven and prays daily to the sept. Praying for him, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, her own mother, it felt wrong kneeling in front of the old gods. What would his mother say of him?

Does she know that he’s alive?

Did Lord Stark told her of his fate? 

He could only get lost in his thoughts as he stood up to face his commander. The summer snow falls heavy upon his now black garb, traditionally worn by the order. He should’ve had drowned in that lake alongside with Vhagar and his uncle. Why did the gods saved him just to give him a fate worse than death? 

May the gods be with me.

“Just so you know, new recruits are sorted into three orders. Rangers, warriors of the watch to patrol beyond the wall and fend off any wildling. Then we have Builders, tasked to maintain The Wall itself such as castles, arms, and all that shit. And uh last we have Stewards, cooking and tending horses,” His commander said.

“As much I would love to put you as a Steward, princey…we all know you are needed as a Ranger. You are a skilled warrior aren’t you not?”

Aemond could only stare at the commander, letting out a quiet hum. “You don’t talk much do ya?” Stepping closer to the one eyed prince. “It’s better that way,” Aemond replied coldly.

The northerner scoffed, spitting onto the ground. 

“Cocky little shit.”

Walking away from Aemond alongside with the other crows. Turning his back on them, Aemond stared down at the weirwood tree. It was laughing at him. At his demise, his fate. The old gods were not with him. He cursed them under his breath, stomping away from the scene as his cloak dragged across the snow. 

Training with the northerners wasn’t any different than he had with ser Criston back then in the keep. It’s even easier for his liking. Aemond being a skilled swordsman he is, didn’t hesitate to show off his skills as he competed with new recruits of the watch. Even the ones that were longer in the brother hood had to put up a good fight to keep up with his skills. Yet Aemond was persistent on winning every single time.

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly to a young boy aching in the ground after getting hit by Aemond. “We are not done yet. I said get up,” he repeated himself. Is this the kind of men that they’re sending to the wall? Meek and puny men who are supposed to defend the realm from savages and creatures? 

Pathetic. 

“Stand up straight, boy,” Aemond told his competitor, tapping his leg. “Keep your legs strong if you want to live,” he said before striking again, thankfully the boy paid attention and kept his form strong. It went on for awhile after Aemond defeated them again and again. 

“Enough!” His commander’s voice boomed. “You, Targaryen.” Pointing at the one eyed prince. Approaching Aemond, he questioned, “What d’you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“That’s enough.”

“These men aren’t ready—,”

“—oh now you’re lecturing me? A fucking know it all?”

“Yes I know it all. You’re sending these men into a death sentence,” Aemond pointed his sword towards the new recruits. “Is that what this brotherhood is meant for? Sending men into their deaths because they chose not to die sooner in the hands of you northerners? This is not honour, this is a—.”

Before Aemond could even finish his sentence, his commander punched him in the face, hard. A punch he haven’t felt in years throughout his youth. Tumbling to the ground, Aemond felt his cheek was sore and aching. Wincing in pain, he felt his nose bleed.

Stupid northerner.

Licking the blood flowing through his nostril, he scoffed. “That’s what you northerners always do, hm? Finishing the matter with violence.” Prancing up, Aemond wanted to behead his commander right there on spot. But he was held back by the other watch members. Grunting, ordering them to let him go, their grip only tightened.

“If it weren’t for Lord Stark, I would’ve stabbed you here for tainting the watch’s name.” Tapping Aemond’s chin with his own sword. “You’re lucky you’re protected under the starks, boy. Or else your corpse would be lying in the forest as those savages feast on ya.” Tapping Aemond’s cheek with a mocking laugh before his men threw Aemond to the ground, leaving him alone. 

His clothes, once neat and tidy, were now tattered and stained, clinging to his battered frame. Aemond lets his legs give up as he was left alone in the field. Even if his face was in pain, he was relieved that he is finally alone in this dreadful place. Even if it was for awhile, he savoured the moment and laid back on the cold harsh ground of the north.

Looking up, he saw the sky being dark and grey. Snow has stopped falling from the sky, that’s also relief. He wondered what his mother is doing right now. Is she praying for him? For his brother? What about Helaena? Has she forgiven him after what he had done and asked her for? She was kind. Helaena didn’t deserve the war or any of them. Not even himself.

What of Alys? His newborn? What does he look like? Will she successfully give him an heir? But what is the use of an heir if he is not present to see its birth? If he has lost the war. If the blacks had claimed the throne and cast his family aside? Was the war actually worth the fight? He should’ve perished at that lake to end his misery. At Least he didn’t have to endure the aftermath of the war. But now he’s nothing but a crippled Targaryen, surrounded by a useless brotherhood that we would die to escape from. 

A crow flew above him, landing on one of the trees surrounding the base. 

He used to see dragons flying above him. 

Now he is only left with dreadful black crows.

Yet they are free. Unlike his fate. Trapped in a cage he wished to be free from. 

May the gods be with him. 

He wasn’t surprised when they put him on duty that very night to the Nightfort. Of course they put him in the Nightfort. They said that the fort was haunted since it’s twice as old as Castle Black. Aemond sighed, lighting up his torch looking around the barely standing fort. They would have abandon this fort in a few years. Aemond didn’t mind the dark or the haunting noise of the creaking floors of the fort. For Harrenhal was far more haunting than this old fort. 

Even Alys’ visions were far much terrifying. 

He saw a few men on the ground as he stood by the bridge of the old fort. Scared shitless when they felt a small blow from the wind. “Cowards,” he muttered under his breath. The cold wind swept his hair as he stomped through the old fort. Yet when he slowed down, he heard a double foot step. He kept walking.

Tap…tap..Tap..Tap..tap..Tap..tap.

A quite tap was heard from a distance trying to sync with his steps. 

Someone was following him.

For the love of the gods, Aemond whined in his head. He drew out his sword and faced his stalker, finding the boy he duelled earlier raising his arms with a shocked expression. “I-I’m sorry!” The boy stuttered in fear as Aemond’s sword touched his chin.

“Why do you lurk in the shadows, boy? Did they send you to assassinate me?” He accused the boy.

 “N-no, ser—,”

“—Prince. Prince Aemond.” 

The boy swallowed a lump in his throat.

“My pr-prince..I…I am not here to kill you.”

“Then why did you stalk me in the dark?”

“I…I did not want to disrupt your peace. I swear it!”

Aemond stared at the boy for a moment, trying to find guilt in his expression. Yet he found none, so he lowered his sword. “Speak,” he commanded. “I…I..I am..scared…of the nightfort.” The boy’s confession made Aemond scoff, “Those stories they tell you were only lies.” Walking ahead, not bothering to stop and have a proper conversation with the young recruit. “Oh but it’s true!” The boy jogged, catching up to the Targaryen prince. “My brother saw a ghost in the halls. It was the perished wildling who died in this fort!”

Rolling his eye, Aemond said, “Lies.” 

The boy curiously looked at Aemond as they walked side by side. “What happened to your other eye?” A question that Aemond’s sick of hearing and answering. “My nephew took my eye when we were children,” he coldly said. “Why a sapphire?” 

No one ever asked him that before.

Only his mother asked him why he chose a sapphire. He remembered her smiling when he requested a sapphire to replace his eye. He remembered how she told him it suited him. How it made him handsome.

He smiled thinly at the memory.

“Symeon star eyes,” Aemond proudly said.

“The blind knight? Ah yes that makes sense. I read about him once. He’s an amazing hero, isn’t he?” The young boy asked, intriguing Aemond. “He is..and he is a brave knight. Taught me that being blind does not mean you must limit yourself from greatness.” Touching his sapphire eye, he recalled how uncomfortable it was when they placed the stone into his socket when he turned 13. But now he is used to it. As time went by, it slowly moulded into his skin. It was his identity now.

“What is your name, boy?”

“Jack.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I just turned Ten-and-three now.”

He was just a boy.

Aemond stopped in his tracks, “You are merely a boy. Why are you here at the watch?” Aemond asked curiously. 

“I wanted to.”

Aemond scoffed.

“It’s true! I want to be a crow! My brother was one and I have become one!” 

“Where is your brother now?”

Jack went quiet, looking down to his feet. “He died. A wildling shot an arrow through his heart,” he answered. Aemond sighed, in normal circumstances he would not say anything and leave the matter behind. But Jack’s loss reminded him of his own. Aegon. “I lost my brother too,” Aemond said reassuringly. Jack looked up, wiping a snot away from his nose. “You did? What happened to him?”

“He was poisoned. By his own council, I heard,” Aemond vaguely said. “Oh, you were a prince, weren’t you?”

“I still am.”

“What is it like…riding a dragon?”

Trying to recall what it was like to mount on dragonback, feeling the wind blowing through him as Vhagar took him up to the skies, he answered,

“I was free.”

He missed Vhagar. His only companion. The only thing that made himself worthy. Without Vhagar, what is he? Without his claim as prince, what is he? Just a skilled swordsman who coincidentally has silver hair. What has he put himself into?

Crack. Thump.

Aemond turned his head towards the haunted forest. “What was that?” Jack asked. “D’you think it’s a squirrel? Or a bird?”

Thump. Thump. 

“That is no bird, boy,” Aemond warned, shielding Jack from their surroundings. 

Swish- crack!

An arrow shot beside his head. 

“Wildling,” Jack says in horror

Aemond pulled the arrow out from the wooden walls of the fort. Examining its sharp carved edge of the arrow. It was clearly handmade with lack of detail, yet it is efficient to kill. “Warn the others,” Aemond said under his breath. “What?” Aemond rushed and hurriedly push the boy out from his place. “Warn the others. We’re under attack.” Aemond’s words drove Jack into panic before he runs away from the bridge. Leaving Aemond alone with the wildling arrow.

Pulling his sword out once again, Aemond aimed the sword around him.

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“I know you’re there. Show yourself!” Aemond commanded, “Do not hide yourself from me, you savage!” 

Thud. 

He felt the floor shake as he heard something- or..someone jumping inside the bridge he stood on. Before he could fully turn around, the wildling pounced onto him. He landed on the floor with a thud. Aemond hastily aimed the sword to the intruder but when he looked up, he saw a she-wildling curiously looking down at him.

Her messy wavy hair was braided disorderly as it hangs above his face. He felt how thick her fur clothes were as a few leftover snow stuck onto her fur slightly falling when she pounced on him. Aemond was ready to strike if the wildling made sudden movements or even dared to harm him. He glared at the she-wildling, gripping his sword. 

“Do as you please, wildling. And I shall stab your hea-.”

She curiously lifts a strand of his hair. Feeling the texture of his hair. 

What?

She looked at his hair with a smile, “It’s actually silver,” her sweet voice said with a chuckle. 

“So you speak?”

She looked down at him, “Of course I do,” she answered with her thick rough accent. “Good. Then keep your hands off me!” Shoving her away, Aemond quickly stood on his feet. Pointing his sword at her. 

“Where are the others?”

“What others?” She smirked.

“Do not think this is a joke, wildling. We know your attacks—,”

“—Attacks? No! No! Gosh.” 

What is this wildling trying to do? Play with him?

“You’re different.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not from the north,” she repeated, stepping closer towards him in which Aemond does not want her to do, still keeping his sword pointed at her. “And you’re not here by choice,” she continued, stopping right in front of his sword. One step closer, Aemond could stab her through her chest with his sword. “Is it true?” She asked.

“What?”

“That you are those people who owned a dragon?”

“What does a wildling know about dragons?”

“Surprisingly we know some things,” she lightly said. “And my grandfather has seen two dragons flying above the wall. But they refused to go beyond the wall.”

King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. 

His ancestors.

“What do you want, wildling?”

“I have a name, y’know.”

She spoke of her name that sounded foreign to his ears.

“I do not care of your name, tell me why are you here before I drag you to the watch—,”

“—oh, now you’re loyal to the crows? The last time I saw you, you threw a punch at the Lord Commander.”

What? How did she know of it?

“Were you spying on us?” Aiming his sword closer to her throat. “Oh really? You’re asking me that? We’re wildlings, of course we spy on crows like you. Or are you really one?” Her question made him grunt in frustration. “Tell me why are you spying on me?”

“Because you’re different. You didn’t ask to be a crow!”

“You do not know that!”

“Oh but I do. I do,” she challenged him.

“And not to mention, your purple eye and sapphire eye caught our attentio-.” Aemond frustratingly tackled her down. “You’re wasting my time,” he hissed at her. Their faces are inches away from each other. She scoffed, “Am I? Or am I making your job far much more entertaining? You seem bored being stationed in this old fort,” she chuckles. 

This woman is insane.

“This is going nowhere. For the last time, tell me why are you here,” he warned her. “Before I cut your throat, you savage.”

“Do you want to be trapped among these crows, snow haired?” She asked. 

Did he want to be trapped amongst these crows?

The watch?

No. 

But he could not admit that.

Not to a fucking wildling.

“You know nothing, wildling.”

“Oh but I know some things. I know you wished to be freed from this prison.” 

He did.

He did want to be free.

“You are such a know it all, wildling.”

“Aye, I am a savage. But I am also a free woman. Do you want to be free like me?”

Her eyes bore into his healthy eye. “If you were to kill me, you could’ve done that minutes ago. You would’ve cut my throat right here, right now. But you didn’t. For you knew my offer is too interesting to igno-,”

“Do not test me, you savage.” 

She scoffed at him.

“Then do it. Cut my throat. Drag me to those men you call brothers,” she challenged him.

Aemond aimed his sword at her.

One swift motion, her throat would be slit and she will lie there lifeless in his arms. That's easy. 

But why couldn’t he move?

His sword just stayed in place. 

He was a ruthless warrior who burned everything to the ground. He slew the strong family line. He killed those bastards and beheaded their men. Killing a wildling is nothing to him.

But he didn’t.

Fuck.

For she could free him from the watch. 

“Come with me. And you can escape from this place. I can help you go back to your home behind the wall. If you agree to come with me.”

She can take him home?

To Kings Landing.

His mother.

The keep.

“And you can help us as well. You don’t have to stay and become a crow—,”

“Targaryen!”

He heard a watch man called him from afar with Jack pointing to Aemond’s direction with the wildling. “Ah so that’s your name. Targaryen,” she jokingly said with a light laugh. She shoved Aemond away making him stumble back onto the hard floorboards of the fort. “Catch her!” He heard a watchman said again as they ran towards them. Aemond picked himself up and was ready to leap and stab the wildling. 

To no avail, the wildling was swift and jumped on the edge of the bridge. 

“This is my cue to leave. My offer stands still, Targaryen. We shall meet again.”

Giving Aemond a wink before jumping down, nowhere to be seen. Disappearing into the cold night air.

a/n: woohooo Aemond finally gets to meet the reader! Hope he’s fond of us🫶🏻🐇 Anw thank you for reading this chapter until the end! I will upload the next chapter asap<3 Alsooo I currently don’t have any taglist so if you want me to tag you in upcoming chapters just LMK🌷

🍰current tags: @suntizme @8812-342 @ladytargg @barnes70stark @magpiewritingsforonce (bold means I can’t tag you and idk why😔🐦‍⬛)

[sukioyakio]

The Silent watcher

A/N.:this not my original idea I saw someone else do this I can't find it but it not my idea.And I think I didn’t ate but also taking out my ass on this one but who cares.

Did not proofread this,I’m sorry for the grammar errors.

Sukuna x reader

w/c: 1,124

Your whole life has always felt owned by him,Your life has never felt normal.Following your mother path as a servant.You follow her steps,listen to her words,learning to speak respectful,and memorizing your mothers favorite song by heart.But it ended quick.

And you were there to watched the devil killed your mother right before your eyes for a simple mistake and that all it took for you loss your voice.You could remember the painful begging of your broken mother voice in your head.You could remember how you didn’t say a word but just how your tears ran down your face,there were like quiet fire marking of rolling down your cheeks.

And all you could think of is making it alive and never being attention to yourself and just make it under his radar.

And you did,You were just like any filthy rat he saw in his path.But it didn’t mean that you weren’t going to stop seeing people dying in-front of your eyes while working for him.

At the age of 12 years you saw him ended a simple life for doing a huge mistake on the job.That simple life was your best friend who you always enjoyed being around,the only person who you could talked to.You loved her for being so positive about the future and being able to talk about her dream goal in this nightmare of a place.

‘I always wanted us to be free from this nightmare and we get to travel the world together,and have a happy family and husbands together that will the best’ That was her dream.Sadly she wouldn’t ever get it but at least she was able to be free from this nightmare.But she wouldn’t have been died if you never switched jobs with her.

You never forgot how her face looked like.The puddle of red blood , blood of your best friend surrounding the floor with it mistakes and sin.The crying and begging that followed throughout your head and the hallways.

The pain and guilt that ran through your soul and you finally loss your voice becoming silent.Your fate has already been painted by his sins. You loss the sparkle in your eyes to continue to think about living a normal life.But you still have some sort of hope living a silent life living with shadows of the darkness of this hellhole.

You have watched and seen throughout the years of the many women he had brings along the way.So many deaths that you were sent to clean up.Just for you to go back and deliver him a drink or another plate of food. It disgusted you to no end,to some point of throwing up the whole night just the thought of him being satisfied from the death of others.

Your body started to change,bloom into a more beautiful woman;your body slowly shaped itself showing out your curves and chest.You could hear or sometimes be talked with about your health such as you being quiet or sometimes just being pretty from other maids and servants.

But you still do your job,sometimes doing chores for the younger ones who needed a break from the torturous chores.Even if they said they could do it themselves.

25 years old that year alone would sadly changed your silent life forever.Just by taking care of another concubine who was a bit of a feisty,untamed and bitter woman.You were assigned to taking care of the concubine for the night,to prepare her ready for the lord.Putting on makeup the way lord ryoman likes and normally it would take you rather quickly.

But for this certain concubine it took longer then it would usually take.Usually when doing this it was rather fun hearing things from the concubines.Without the need of having to reply back.

But this woman was the most difficult person to deal with.Calling you names constantly,glaring at you,slapping your hand away from doing your job,Yelling disrespectful things about you and You were this close to losing your temper towards her.

You even wonder how does the lord Sukuna find this woman interested but either way it doesn’t matter.In the end they have sex and afterwards end up wanting more and latching onto him and then they’ll become boring toys to him then killed them off,just to repeat the cycle.The concubine that had last longer then a month always amazed you with how they managed to keep going.

Once you were done with the look,she just look at the mirror and start to say everything foul out her mouth and you tried to calm her down with your words but it ended up with you getting slapped and choking you with hers claws.While yelling at you for making her look ugly in her terms.

You couldn’t breathe,and sound of your gasping for air could be heard throughout the room even outdoors but your eyes were still with the coldness as well as disgust at how utterly awful the concubine was.You whispered towards her “May hell find your cursed sinful body you disgusting Bitch”.Your voice showing anger and hatred towards her and for him as well.

And then suddenly your eyes started to go out but before it turned black the woman instantly disappeared and so was your vision.

There he wasStanding there by the door with his large frame and four arms crossed,the air around him thick with his authority.With his red eyes shinning in the night sky,As he looked at the bloody mess he create.He had killed his concubine and decided to save your soul for some sort of reason.

And That would be the exact day where your silent watching days would be done.

—————

He found you interesting. He found you interesting enough to spare you.Instead of taking your life with that annoying concubine.

The air felt dense in the room. Silence followed, no one knowing what to say. Your body lay there, unconscious and vulnerable. His eyes were like those of a predator. Like the eyes of a snake observing its prey; he was simply biding his time, watching. Analyzing.

He had always seen you,but nothing about you was interesting to him before.You were a good servant,doing whatever your told to do without any hesitation or any words you were rather completely silent.And maybe you being silent made him interested in you.

He slowly took a step closer, his eyes not breaking away from you. His boots lightly echoed against the floor.

Suddenly, he knelt down to get a closer look at your face. His long, black nails gently grazed the side of your cheek, following down your jawline. His fingers were warm against your skin;His ruby eyes staring holes into you.His hand moved down to rest on your neck, feeling your pulse.

‘Your really are just as quiet as you are,huh?”He thought while looking at your bruises.His nails making red marks on your neck,completely unintentional.Before leaving the room and calling uraume to come and clean up the mess and making sure to cleaning you up and putting you back to the dormitory.

“What did the maid say about her?”-he says as a question to himself-“The silent watcher. . . that what they called her,mhmm” he hum to himself as he walks towards his chambers,smirking at the thought of that.

That all I have I hope you liked it. And i think I wanted to make like reader somewhat like a background character.

If you have any suggestions or ideas please share with me in the comments I’ll be more than happy to hear them out.

made by @sukioyakio 2024

Have a great day.Reblogs and likes are always welcome. @mononijikayu @ciggrx @urprettylittlething

part two and part three are out

[cleolinda]

I’ve read a few of the umpteen thousand upset comments about the paid Watcher service, and I’ve read comments angry about the upset comments. There’s one thing I want to point out, and it’s that this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, “You’re saying people don’t deserve to earn money for their work.”

The Watcher guys do deserve to earn money. I already give them money. I give them $5 a month on Patreon, not because I think they do or don’t give me $5 worth of media, but because I want to support them. I canceled Netflix for pissing me off with its price hike/ad tier, but I give Watcher Entertainment money.

They’re saying now that the Patreon will be solely about the podcasts, and they understand if people leave. I’m perfectly happy to switch the support I can afford to the streaming service. With the early adopter 30% discount, I’d actually save money. In fact, I tried to subscribe, but the site didn’t work.

Watcher wanting to profit from their shows isn’t the problem. It’s that they’re now discovering that their fanbase is young and broke in a terrible economy, judging by tens of thousands of comments on multiple platforms. I can throw them $5/month, so I do. But the Patreon only has (checks notes) 5874 paying followers, and there’s a reason for that. $60/year upfront would not be “accessible.” Patreon is literally patronage from the people who can afford it.

If the guys had said up front, “ONLY new shows and episodes will be exclusive to the service,” I think we’d be having a different conversation right now. But at first they did say, “We’re pulling all our content from YouTube,” to the point where Variety had to issue an update. Like, that’s in print and I’m pretty sure it was on video. Now they’ve backtracked to ONLY new etc.—but most people haven’t heard, and they feel crushed. And the trust is probably gone regardless.

So now four years of back catalogue will stay public. And now, you’re paying $6.99 a month for one episode, maybe two, of something a week, and now, not an exclusive back catalogue. I would pay for Watcher shows before I’d pay for anyone else, but I just don’t think the company is big enough yet for a SVOD at that price. They’re not Dropout size. They needed to build more programming and get a higher follower count first, or at the very least, charge less.

The international price/exchange rate situation is a nightmare and I don’t know what it is they’re not doing to make it… not… be like that.

I don’t know what they should have done instead of a full streaming service, but surely there were alternatives? I’ve seen comments from people suggesting they GET a Patreon. Lean on that more! Do the shows exclusive for a month and then let them roll onto YouTube! I don’t know! Anything but One More Fucking Streaming Service, which enraged me, and I was willing to move my support to it!

And I shouldn’t say this, but I will. In the “Goodbye YouTube” video the guys posted, they say that setting up the streaming service has allowed Steven to do a remake of Worth It where he and his cohosts travel the world and eat expensive food. This is the first new show they announce. Not “We have always been committed to diversity and we’re now able to bring on new creator(s) to expand our programming.” No, a redo of an old show that by definition has got to be expensive. Commenters are saying they can’t pay for the streaming service because they can’t make ends meet in this economy. The optics are terrible. I genuinely question what the thought process even was here.

I love the guys and I still watch their shows. I want to see Watcher succeed. I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved in 2018 while recovering from surgery—as with a lot of people, their shows got me through a tough time. I’m as attached as anyone. If I can continue to afford monthly support—this is not a certainty—I’ll give it to them. I’m not a ~hater who doesn’t want Watcher to make money. But I am absolutely BAFFLED by every single decision here. I want them to figure out how to turn this around and go in a better direction, because right now, this ain’t it.

[prose-for-hire]

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Three)

Part One // Part two // Part Four

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part three of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks/smokes, difficult relationship with Giles and not friends with Buffy.

He had been searching for you when you hadn’t returned, his face steeped in worry as he stormed through the night to find you. Maybe you had got lost or eaten in that annoying human way. He cared for you deeply. He couldn’t help it and as he walked through Sunnydale until the light started to singe his body, he knew that he couldn’t fight his feelings anymore.

It had been five days. He had caught your scent around the UC Sunnydale campus but he kept losing it in certain places. He needed to see you, needed to make sure that you were okay.

He had been sleeping in your bed clinging to your clothes, bathing in your scent. Wishing he could have you back by his side again, where he was more sure each day that you truly belonged. He wished to have you pressed against him again, cradle you in his arms, grip your body in his bed.

He had found you five days later by chance, stalking into the Bronze looking for something to pass the time. His mind on you but he had little hope that you would appear before him. He was even beginning to worry he had dreamt you up.

Until, well, there you were. Stood at the side of the Bronze looking miserable as you swirled your drink around. You were talking to a redhead who looked a little exhausted by your company.

He stepped back, watching you intently as if you were a mirage. He wanted to reach out and touch you so badly but he was afraid you may be a cruel illusion. He had looked for you for days, he had worried sick about you.

From the dark he overheard your conversation, you had left because of the kiss. It had overwhelmed you as much as you had wanted to stay in the moment forever.

“I just don’t know… should I go? Should I stay?” You asked, not for the first time since you had started talking to her.

“I, uh, I’m still not sure Spike is exactly boyfriend material”

“I’m not trying to make a blanket out of him, Will” You said smiling softly at the idea of Spike wrapping his arms around you.

Your indecision was bugging even yourself as you spoke about it for the millionth time. Willow was at a loss as to what to say other than that Spike was very dangerous and ultimately evil. You were already way past that and had seen the good in him as well as the bad. You liked both but you knew that this would sever any chance at reconciling with your Dad.

“Embarrassed, is that it?” Spike asked, his eyes not meeting yours as he stepped from the shadows. His eyes were haunted by a situation much like this, some decades earlier. He felt it, the rejection, the pain. It was so acute and written on his face so clearly that you could almost feel it yourself.

“Spike, it’s not like that, I-”

“You used me for a cheap thrill and then went toddling back to your boring little life livin’ under Daddy’s thumb”

He stormed out, lighting up a cigarette as he walked, his duster whipping around him as he walked into the street. You ran after him, ignoring his muttering about not even getting to the thrilling part.

You grabbed his shoulder and he let you turn him to face you. He was agonisingly close, you even found his frown cute. His anger desirable. You wanted to kiss his pain away, remove the furrow from his brow. Offer up any thrill that he could possibly want.

“If you don’t want me then bloody well let me free” He moved as if to push past you but you took his hand. With your touch he softened, even slightly.

“I was scared, Spike”

“Now you find the time to bloody fear me”

“It’s just, I was trained from a child to be a Watcher and as much as I never cared for it, things like that are kinda difficult to unlearn. Suddenly I was ten years old again being screamed at by some stuffy Watchers when I started to empathise with one of the vampires in our case studies.”

You had been wrestling with your own morality. It was a battle you could never win when kissing Spike felt so right but everything you had been taught until now had told you it was so wrong.

He nodded, understanding that where you come from can impact your life, and even your un-life. He was still reeling from the rejection, it had hurt in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was human. He offered you a smoke, you took it, leaning into him as he flicked his lighter on for you. Your eyes met, deepening your gaze as you inhaled the thick smoke.

Nothing was said in this time, though it lasted for an age, something unspoken was communicated. Shared.

He lowered himself, his duster sliding from his shoulder slightly as he knelt on the floor his cigarette bobbing from his lips as he spoke, “I’m on my knees here, pet, I can’t lose you. Love like this comes once an eternity.”

“Love?”

You reached for him, lowering yourself to kneel with him, your hands clasping his after flicking your cigarette away. You couldn’t help the way your doubts creeped into your head, how your upbringing made you question every move that you made in terms of good and evil.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Come home?”

You had barely nodded before he slammed his lips against yours, your knees resting uncomfortably on the tarmac, but all you could think about was the way he felt against you. The urgency in which he kissed, the way he cradled your face in his hands, caressed your skin. He felt divine beneath your hands, his lips felt heavenly on yours.

How could anything about this be wrong?

You leaned against him, your forehead pressed against his as you panted trying to regain your composure. You stayed like that for a while in the dark alley before you took his hand again and walked towards your shared crypt.

From there, you took things slow. Much slower than either of you would like. You often fell asleep against him in the evenings and shared such deep confessions. Of your pasts, of your feelings for the other.

After a week of settling back into your home, you had an unwelcome houseguest. And she didn’t even bring a home-warming gift.

Buffy slammed the door to your crypt so hard that it almost came clean off its hinges. She came to tell you that your father had been turned into some demon by Ethan Rayne and she wanted to make sure that you knew that he was okay. That he was shaken but unharmed and would perhaps appreciate a visit from his family.

You mumbled something about going to visit sometime but realised this was the wrong decision. Buffy saw this as an opportunity to give you some (again, unwelcome) advice.

“Look, y/n, as a friend-”

“We were never really friends, Buffy”

The young girl looked surprisingly hurt, perhaps she had truly seen you as a friend and you had misjudged her. She had, of course, never been anything other than pleasant to you. You had just allowed your jealousies to fester beyond control. Plus she was self-righteous in a kind of annoying way.

“Well, friend or not I care about you because I care about Giles. Grow up, y/n, the rebel act was kinda last season. He misses you”

“He made it very clear that I’m not welcome, why would him letting Ethan make him all Fyarl-y make a difference?”

“You can’t be happy here, with him” she visibly shuddered as he walked up to join you from the lower level of the crypt. You appreciated that you got a glimpse of his athletic torso beneath his unbuttoned red shirt.

He slung an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder and whispering in your ear. You were too comfortable together and Buffy looked as if it made her physically sick. She threatened Spike vaguely, gave you another warning and then with a hair flip she stormed back out of the crypt and slammed the door shut behind her.

The thing that irritated you the most was that she genuinely thought she was ‘saving you from yourself’. That you had taken the wrong path. That the love, this amazing and beautiful feeling that you had never quite felt anything like before, was somehow wrong. Or gross. Or evil.

Which had fed into your thoughts the first time you had been close to Spike. You wouldn’t let it happen again. You hated the distance. The way his absence had physically pained you.

Spike guided you back down to the his bedroom, pressing soft kisses against your jaw, nipping at your neck and caressing his lips down your chest. He wanted you all to himself, he wouldn’t let you go again. Not now he knew how good life could be with you in it. By his side, in his bed.

By late afternoon you were lying on your side in his bed, watching him writing in a notebook. Papers littered the floor of the crypt. He hadn’t had such inspiration since he was human. You had brought him back to life. Revived him.

“Did you mean it, when you said you loved me?” You asked softly, your fingers trailing softly against his muscled arm.

“Never meant anything more,”

He had, of course, noted that you hadn’t said it to him. It stung a little but he would rather have you by his side even if you didn’t love him than not at all. He knew you cared for him, of course. Knew that you felt safe with him. Knew that he would kill any man, demon or slayer that came anywhere near you.

He put his writing down, shifting himself and burying his face into the crook of your neck. He would give anything to hear you say it.

“Say you’re mine, love, and I’ll be here until the end of time,” He pleaded between landing slow kisses against your exposed skin.

“I love you, Spike, I think… I think I’ve always been yours,” You whispered as if you were afraid he might overhear.

He smirked darkly, his fangs bared and his face morphed from beyond your line of vision. Your eyes were closed, enjoying his touch. He suddenly wrenched your head to the side, exposing your neck further.  

He could feel your pulse thrumming faster now.

He swallowed thickly,  before propelling himself towards your neck, ignoring the firing from his chip as he held you in place…