#LITERALLY WRINGING MY NECK

[poltergeist-punk]

posing this b4 i forget

[postaldouche]

s2, ep10 I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD KILLS continued! :3 sorry for the abrupt cut off yesterday/the day before! i got sad and decided to just be lazy lol also decided that i'd change the formatting a bit? i realize that there's this weird space between the images and text that just doesn't look all that ""aesthetically pleasing"" to the eyes eeek xc it looks evened-out BEFORE i hit post, which is strange but i won't question it. ANYWAYS! BACK TO THE EPISODE!

SO WE RE-OPEN WITH BROCK IN THE CAR WITH HELPER!!! it's the iconic ""jock rock"" argument-clip thing that EVERYONE has already gone over and spoken about, i personally don't care for it. everyone's already yapped their ears off about it and it'd just be somewhat stupid for me to point out and examine at this point. i've always found it cute that he decided to take helper with him in this episode. Brock's an "i ride solo" guy usually, but it's obvious he's warmed up to the family enough to accept SOME help (and also because Helper probably insisted.. either that or he just wanted company - like a cat that hates being alone lollll). also we don't get an incredible amount of brock content this episode siiigh. but we get him every other episode, so i could never complain (I GUESS).

i wasn't going to add the picture of him diving into the dumpster, because i didn't think it was silly enough but apparently you really get to see his barbie doll legs here so i said 'fuck it whatever' and added it in anyway lel

SO! Brock has a moment where he thinks the boys were really hurt/killed and ditched in a dumpster (because that's where the tracking - thingy lead him to). he's VERY relieved to see that he was, in fact, wrong and that it was just their wrist devices instead. he loves those boys to death ee >~<

he's too cute </3 my big blonde handsome pookie </33

AND THEN WE DISCOVER THAT MYRA'S BACK! and we get a silly brock face as a close up ^~^

he kind of looks like a frog here..

also the wrist devices were attached to a bomb! because myra is fucking insane!

he also survived the explosion??? which is weird all on it's own. again, rusty has a thing for blondes that are MENTAL. how she knew when to send the message(s)/detonate the bomb is beyond me. she's one freaky bitch, what can she say? i love her very much. BUT WHATEVERS! CUT TO THE BOYS! who are tied up inside of some dingy motel that myra brought them to.

my little chimpy boy.. his ears are always so fucking massive! four of them could easily make up the size of his entire head. he gets them from rusty, i suppose.

i really like this scene. easily second fav scene of ALL TIME. i imagine fri really liked this scene too. Hank is such a twat here.. just woke up and decided for ZERO reason to wake up Deans and annoy him. no initial panic, or questions, or stress. just a-- "eugh well isn't this new and different. (-︵-)" and that's IT. he's a terrible little boy. sometimes i feel like the fandom mistakes him for a golden retriever sweetie pants. HE IS a golden retriever. just an annoying one egehjehgehgghe that his unfortunate brother has to deal with blegggh

"i smell peepee" "well what're you looking at ME for??" (said immediately with a defensive tone and up-pitch in his voice bc he knows he's being accused of something)

"deeean.. did you get peepee scared again?"

(said in a way that's meant to provoke annoyance in dean because HE'S a little shit and loves to torment his brother)

"NO shut UP. (-`_´-)"

BEST GIRL MYRA ARRIVES AND IMMEDIATELY GETS ALL HANDS-ON WITH HANK!!! honestly the scenes with myra in this episode are some of my favorites in the whole show. i know they're played for laughs and gags but there's something about how totally fucked she is that i find compelling. i love her a lot. she's weird.

also kind of like how it's a thing for people to grab hank's face/cheeks and squish like nothing.

makes me really icked-out to see them (the boys, but also myra kind of) in this situation. feels eghghhghgghhh and weird. like a scenario that i PERSONALLY would love to be in, but under no circumstance would i want the boys involved in.

like stay away from my kids, yo >~< i love this freak show of a fucking woman. she's everything to me and her suits cool. she's also really sally-esque to me (i've mentioned this before but i feel the need to say it again. no one has ever spoken about it before i think). GONNA FINISH BATH THEN POST MORE!!! we have some henchmen stuff i like coming up so yaay! >3<

[duskittycat]

i see we still haven't moved past making fun of "cringy, easy targets" in the queer community. how are yous finding time to make "aspec/poly/pan etc. ppl are annoying lol" posts in 2024. aren't you tired of it all

[hellscupboards]

bro im having a sad ass moment where im not sure if i can watch daredevil born again without foggy in it

[badboysupr]

sb: bullies leo leo: twirls hair wow ♥（ﾉ´∀`）

[fyodior]

i think abt this quote i found nearly every day and i finally looked up what it’s from and of fucking course it’s dostoyevsky like of course it is

[hyunestrella]

guess who wrote her plan for hb on her notepad and left it at work😊😊😊

[bonepile-shieldwall]

went on break after stressful dealings with a coworkers and BOOM reminded ao3 maintenence

[munsster]

lost in the woods

A/N: i literally couldnt resist getting my grubby hands on this brainrot song (gif creds: @longestwave)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: You, the party, and Steve attend an annual winter festival while he's feeling utterly lost in the woods. 3.7k words

Warnings: fluff, everything is corny xoxo, slight angst/anxiety/embarrassment, pet names (sweetheart, honey), flashback, general party shenanigans, GODAWFUL PINING, kissing

Robin had slapped a flyer for Tippecanoe’s First Annual Winter Festival on the counter, and Steve knew he had to be there with you somehow. He just had to make it subtle enough not to seem desperate but obvious enough that you knew he wanted you there. Which was easier than he predicted when he handed the flyer to Dustin and his eyes lit up at the idea of a real festival with live music and gingerbread and carnival games and sledding.

So you and Steve caravanned the children and Robin in your cars. Of course, driving separately was not Steve's ideal situation as he loves having you in his passenger seat picking the music and humming softly to yourself. But you had suggested it since there were more bodies than could fit in your station wagon. Robin had begged to differ, insisting there was always more space with a nod to the trunk, which made you giggle and subsequently made Steve absolutely melt. He didn't usually have the patience for her antics, but he would do anything to hear you laugh even if it meant contorting himself into your trunk.

However, he knows that's not the only reason you suggested separate cars with separate drivers. Things had been tense since the last time he saw you, and the guilt weighs on him like a cold metal barbell crushing his chest.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Steve huffs, standing and backing away, "I don't know what I'm doing. I should go!"

He hadn't planned on rushing out of your house and into the snow without any of his belongings, but that's how it happened. It's the subject of most of his nightmares. The look on your face and the blaring sound the door made when it slammed. He had stood on your porch wringing his hands and exhaling puffs of hot air when he finally decided to go through with his running away.

But now he felt completely lost. And he could tell he was losing you, too.

Robin had thoroughly scolded him when he called her that night, telling him he's an idiot for walking out on you when you two were clearly and stupidly in love. He agreed and wallowed in self pity, listening to sappy love songs and soft rock until he eventually fell asleep.

This festival was his chance to make apologize. To fall for you all over again. If only he could get you alone without the squeaky voices of a handful of pestering teens.

El and Max drag you and Robin toward the steep hill carved out for sledding, and Steve follows with the group of boys hot on his trail. They coo taunting endearments at him, urging him to share a sled with you. Dustin hollers something or other about his probably fake girlfriend Suzie and how he officially has more game than Steve.

You look back at him sweetly and mouth 'sorry' before you plop down onto your sled. For all the trouble, you mean. You know the kids would be much calmer if they knew Steve didn't actually want you. And he clearly doesn't after the other night. And the way he seems so nonchalant. He shakes his head and mouths 'don't worry about it' as he shoves his jittery hands in his pockets. The wind whips at his hot face and he wishes he'd brought a scarf. Or some dignity.

"You have to win something for her," Lucas says once they reach the bottom of the hill, and Steve is hit with the realization that all of these twerps somehow got girlfriends before him. Although, Dustin's status is still questionable. He at least has the audacity to lie about his romantic endeavors.

"Yeah," Max agrees, pointing to the tip-a-jug stand lined with winter themed plushies, "Girls love stuffed animals. Plus, winning will be an excellent show of your strength."

"And generosity! The ladies love a charitable man," Mike adds. Steve rolls his eyes, worried you'll hear them from where you walk just a few paces ahead with Will and El. But maybe they have a point.

"I don't need advice from schoolchildren."

"You mean romantically successful schoolchildren!" Dustin chirps.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose while they beg him to win you something good. Finally, he gives in, sifting a few singles from his wallet. Max calls you over to watch Steve win, and you chuckle weakly, knowing they forced him into it somehow.

The vendor hands him a basket of blue bean bags with snowmen painted on them. Steve's heart races when you step up next to him.

"Good luck," you huff. You both know these games are rigged from the moment the cash hits the counter. But he smiles at you and holds one of the bags in his palm. God, somehow you're even prettier with snowflakes in your hair and the warm fairy lights twinkling behind you.

He lasers in on the game, winding up that rubber arm like he's back in little league hoping for a strike out. The first few jugs clatter backwards. Suddenly, the kids are much more invested learning the possibility that he might actually win.

It's down to the final jug, and he takes a deep breath. In all honesty, he's never been this successful in any stupid carnival game. Why he is tonight is a mystery. Maybe next he'll be struck by lightning.

Except, the last bean bag thuds against the side of the apparatus, and the crowd groans. He perches his hands on his hips and bows his head.

"You did pretty good, kid. Why don't you pick one of the medium sized prizes?" The vendor asks, gesturing to the small stuffed animals halfway up the wall.

"Which one do you want, sweetheart?"

He turns back and his eyes lock with yours. He's hoping the kids were right. Maybe you'll be impressed or charmed. Or maybe you'll think he's being vain and trying needlessly to boost his ego. But you glance at him in surprise, eagerly stepping forward and tugging on his sleeve.

"Steve, I can't accept your prize. You won it fair and square."

"They begged me to play. I only did it because I love showing off," he teases, and it makes you giggle. Hallelujah. You point to the small polar bear plush, and the vendor hands it to you. Steve's heart flutters when you accept the bear so tenderly and thank him like you're shy. But he's never known you to be bashful. At least, not when it comes to teasing him.

Everyone, including Robin, coos and hoots and hollers at the two of you basking in the soft carnival game light. You whip around and tell them to shush.

"Quit it, I'm not afraid to send you all home right now," Steve says, pointing an accusatory finger. You hide your grin behind your plush when his hair bounces from his intensity.

The kids grumble, and Dustin says, "Yes, mom and dad," begrudgingly but with a shit eating grin on his face. It makes Steve blush more than it should.

You suggest stopping for gingerbread-flavored funnel cake and hot apple cider and face a hoard of suddenly starving children.

Dustin sighs dramatically, catching your attention. "This night is so beautiful, don't you think, Steve?"

"Careful, Henderson, I'm your ride home," Steve says.

"What? I’m just saying it would be a shame to waste such a romantic night." Dustin tries his hardest to wink subtly. "If only it weren't for Brad—"

"No, she dumped Brad," El helpfully suggests. The news lights up their eyes, and they bounce around excitedly.

"Who raised these kids?" Steve huffs, eyebrows raised and cringing at their blatant attempts at match making.

You roll your eyes, announcing, "You guys, Steve has more important things to worry about than a girlfriend."

Steve looks at you. You're trying to settle them down, but all it does is shatter his heart and make him their target. He knows it's in good fun and all but the wobble in your voice makes his knees buckle and his throat tighten. He needs to fix this and fast if he wants any chance at reconciliation.

Max stares him down. "What did you do?"

"Come on, Steve the King," Lucas sighs, "You're supposed to be working with us, not against us!"

Steve shakes his head and turns away from the slander. You follow his lead. You're staring straight ahead, pretending to look at the menu while he fiddles with the hem of his sleeve.

Then, El notices a small mistletoe hanging from the edge of the canopy. The kids giggle and nudge each other, and Robin's eyes go wide realizing the front of the line crosses through its path. And you and Steve are standing side by side.

So just as the line shuffles forward, Robin elbows her way between the two of you, earning a hearty grumble from Steve.

"Sorry, I—uh"—solid gameplan, Robin—"Lovely weather we're having."

You chuckle and look up at the way the snow seems to hover midair. Little specks of white illuminated by the festivities with a backdrop of darkness and starlight.

"Yeah, I guess so," you hum. Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sour look when he spots the mistletoe dangling above the two of you.

"Oh, gosh! Would you look at that," Robin chirps, "Mistletoe! You know what that means."

"You cut the line just so you could kiss me?" you say, smile creeping onto your face. She shrugs, and you hold her jaw while you lean in and peck her cheek. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, but Robin is stirred, her cheeks blooming a rosy pink from more than just the cold.

"Satisfied?"

Robin nods, tugging on her hat and warbling about checking out the ice sculptures and how she'd be back in a second. Steve sheepishly reclaims his spot beside you.

"You want one, too?" you tease. His heart flutters considering it, but his silence has you recoiling and turning away. "Sorry. Just... kidding."

Of course, he wants to kiss you. And he doesn't want it to be an accident or a mistake or a regret. He's already messed up once, and the thought of messing it up with you again hurts like an icicle to the heart.

The kids bound towards the huge tree sprouting from the center of the fair grounds. An announcement had called for the first annual tree lighting at nine, and crowds had flocked to the base of the looming tree. Not Steve, though. He lingers just behind you while you order the funnel cake. He's a little embarrassed when you turn back around holding the plate to find yourselves deserted by your group.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"Distracted by the lights, I guess," he huffs, feeling the pang in his chest when you nod wearily. "Wanna sit down? I saw an open bench back there."

You grab an extra fork and follow him to the bench seated along the edge of the grounds. There's a perfect view of the grand tree with a couple minutes to spare. The bench is snug enough, your thigh pressed to his. It reminds you of that night in your living room and the way he looked at you like he really cared. Like he could have actually wanted you. Honestly, you think, who was he kidding.

But it's second nature the way you hand him a fork.

"Mmm, tastes like..." he hums while trying to decipher the distinct flavor but all he can muster is cinnamon and sugar.

"Gingerbread?" you tease. He ducks his head, grinning and reaching for another bite.

"That would make sense."

You laugh when powdered sugar kisses the tip of his nose. He's confused why you're staring at him like that and rubs his sleeve across his mouth, which makes you laugh harder.

"What?"

You try and wipe it way but miss by a long shot, swiping at his chin through your giggle fit. He finally wipes the tip of his nose. You take a deep breath in, calming your laughter.

"Sweetheart, what is it? What's on my face?"

"You got it." You shake your head. "Just some powdered sugar."

"All that for a little sugar," he teases, grinning from ear to ear when you stifle a laugh. You settle into the bench and he drapes his arm long the back of it. He likes having you so close. It makes him feel foolish and ecstatic and boyish. And he doesn't think he's ever felt so warm before.

You're about to say something when the tree lights up. A million tiny bulbs of green and red and yellow lead to the shining star on top. It illuminates his face, and you can really see the glimmer reflected in his brown eyes. Carolers sing holy night across the festival, but you can still hear them loud and clear. You want to tell Steve he's everything. You would if you could be sure it wouldn't scare him away. People clap and whistle. You're conflicted.

Is this how he felt before he ran away?

"I owe you an apology," he blurts. He turns to face you to find you're already looking him dead in the eyes. His stomach twists because that means it's real and he's not daydreaming. The hope makes him nervous.

You shake your head.

"No, Steve, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should apologize. I still have all the blankets you left, and it's the middle of winter."

"Sweetheart, please, I'm the one who ran out on you," he huffs, "I was being a coward. I've liked you for so long, and I wanted to kiss you, and I know the kids are usually full of shit—and I can't believe I'm saying this—but they're right. I belong to you. I mean it, I'm yours. And as cheesy as it sounds, without you... I feel lost."

The air between you feels thick enough to carve with a butter knife. It's not snowing anymore, but still, something stirs and shimmers and wavers as his confession sets in. It gets a little harder to breathe and he can almost feel the altitude sickness from the flicker in your eye. Though, shortness of breath is nothing compared to the way you make him feel on top of the world with just a glance.

His heart sinks when you tear up and look away.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning in when you desperately press your mittens to your cheeks.

"Sorry. Sorry." You tilt your head back and squint your eyes shut to stop the hot flow of tears.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to make you cry," he says softly when you cover your face and chuckle dryly.

"I know. I just feel like..." you huff, feeling a little silly for crying when Steve rubs your back like he means every word he said. Like he's really sorry and all he wants is you. "It was never the right time for us."

He can't help the way his heart crumbles to pieces like forgotten pastry between your skilled fingers. You're trying not to cry, and it's his fault. You take a deep breath. He thinks he would buy you all the sweet things in the world to make you happy. Even if it meant you didn't need him anymore. It would be enough to know he could do something good for you.

Then you turn to him, and he's doe eyed and handsome and hopeful.

You whisper, "But, now—"

Suddenly, the hoard returns, stampeding and complaining about the cold and how Robin is flirting with the pretty exhibit curator and the tree lighting was so cool but now El wants to take pictures with her new camera and are you gonna eat that? Steve's still hanging onto your every word over the ruckus. Now?

You offer them the rest of the funnel cake which Mike and Dustin devour in seconds. You give Will your scarf when he shivers, and Steve offers his gloves to Lucas who gives one to Max so he can hold her other hand.

"Hey, remember when I told you you'd be cold?" you tease Will who shrugs shyly and Lucas who grumbles, squeezing Max's hand.

"But why would they wear proper clothing when they know you're too caring to refuse?" Max says, cocking a brow. You squint at her.

"Are you calling me a pushover?"

She giggles and kisses your cheek before skipping away with Lucas and shouting, "Only because I love you!"

El hooks her arm in yours and tugs you towards the string light tunnel near the exit. You glance back at Steve who listens to Dustin talk about all the old couples watching the tree lighting ceremony. He makes a point to tell Steve he'd like to come back every year.

Steve looks to you and agrees.

You think El's trying to win the record for most polaroids taken in ten seconds. She takes a few of Max and Lucas and a couple of all of the boys together. She's shouting at them to behave when you wander off towards Steve.

Your knuckles brush his, and you startle, but he's already holding your soft, gloved hand and biting back a grin. You tug him towards you and face him with a fierce look in your eye.

"Quit putting the moves on me, Harrington," you tease, but he sweeps your hair out of your face anyway. Oh, and he looks like he wants to kiss you. Just like before. Only this time, he's not going to run away. And you can tell when he gently cradles your neck that he’s gonna stick around for a long time.

But just as he leans in, a flash goes off and you look straight into El’s lens as the camera clacks and zips. You quickly let go of Steve’s hand and huff out a laugh when one of the kids wolf whistles. Steve chuckles and dips in to kiss your cheek. El skips over and hands you the polaroid, telling you to shake it until it develops.

Once it does, you’re already headed back to the parking lot. You hand it to Steve, and his face lights up.

The light tunnel frames the picture like a halo. Your eyes are wide, staring into the camera while the flash shines on your shocked face. But he’s still looking at you and waiting for his kiss, holding your face with your mitten tucked into his cold hand. You think he looks handsome. He knows that’s because he’s lovesick, and it shows

“I hope you know I’m keeping this,” he says, pinching the corner like it’ll fly away in a snow flurry. You giggle.

“Fine, but I want it on weekends.”

“Deal,” he teases. He plops into his driver’s seat, tucking the polaroid into his sun visor. You lean down and perch your forearms on the window.

“Drive safe, Stevie,” you whisper, glancing at his sweet smile and flushed face.

“I want to kiss you.”

You raise your eyebrows and peek into the back seat where Will, El, and Max giggle. And then to where Dustin is slumped in the passenger’s seat, his forehead rested against the glass.

“Dustin is gonna be furious when he finds out you said that, and he wasn’t awake to witness it,” you hum, but Steve couldn’t care less with you so close to him.

“Maybe it’ll teach him to mind his own damn business.” Steve says it so casually, it makes you smile.

“His meddling isn’t all bad,” you shrug, “It brought us together.”

Well, shit, Steve thinks. He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the kid.

“In that case, I owe him one,” he says, out of focus when you lean further into the car. “Or a couple.”

You smile against his mouth and he hums lowly. It’s gentle. Unhurried. Like it could stop the world from turning if only for a second. If the festival were any quieter, your heartbeats would be audible. You pull away with a small grin and smooth down the collar of his jacket. He holds your wrist, fingers lazily wrapping around the cuff of your mitten to keep your hand close to his chest.

Max pokes Dustin’s shoulder and he wakes with a loud startle. He orients himself to find the both of you staring back at him.

“What was that for? What did I miss?” he whines with a furrowed brow. Max rolls her eyes, tugging her headphones on.

“Dude,” she huffs. El giggles, shaking her head, and Will waves when you stand back from the window.

You pat Steve’s shoulder and say, “Seriously, please be careful. It’s slippery.”

Steve nods, giving you a little salute. You smile. He blushes.

“You, too, honey,” he coos, hoping you’ll linger by his window just a little longer. But Dustin snaps his fingers impatiently.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he says, already nodding off again. You chuckle.

“I’ll follow you out,” you say with a nod, “Nighty night, Dusty.”

Dustin swats away the tease with a, “Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Steve cocks a brow and you laugh, shrugging. His engine revs to life and you back away further with a cute little wave when his headlights flicker on. He watches you open your car door and disappear inside before slowly creeping out of the parking spot. You shuck your mittens and set them in the cupholder, Robin grinning from beside you the entire time.

“We saw everything,” she says. Mike and Lucas share a knowing glance in the backseat, and you hold up one finger.

“Not a word.”

But you smile the whole way home.

more like this

masterlist

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Son of Green Arrow: A Wild What-If Timeline

Okay, picture this: Tim Drake ends up being adopted by Oliver Queen. Wild, right? But hear me out.

It all starts with Janet Drake. Back in her boarding school days, she was close friends with Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. As adults, they drifted, but she always trusted them. So, when drawing up a will with Jack, she names Oliver as Tim’s guardian if anything ever happens to them. Why Oliver? He’s got a stable family life with Dinah, and Bruce is still just “Brucie” at this point, with no Dick Grayson or Robin yet in the picture.

Fast forward. Tim’s parents die in a tragic accident, leaving him alone… until Oliver Queen steps in. Tim gets whisked away to Star City, where he finds himself in a home that actually feels like a family. Oliver, Dinah, and Roy include him in their lives in a way his biological parents never did. They’re attentive, warm, and actually there.

Tim’s obsessive interest in Gotham and the Bat still exists, though. Even as he helps the Queens behind the scenes (because, of course, Tim figures out their identities), he keeps an eye on Gotham and Robin. When Jason Todd dies, Tim immediately notices the shift in Batman. He sees how broken Bruce becomes and, unable to ignore it, brings it up to Oliver.

Oliver listens. He pulls some Justice League strings, and they all step in to help Bruce. But even with the intervention, Tim can see Batman isn’t the same. Batman needs Robin.

Tim, being Tim, takes matters into his own hands. He sneaks back to Gotham, tracks down Bruce, and demands to be Robin. Bruce, skeptical but too tired to argue, lets him. Tim starts living a double life—splitting his time between Gotham as Robin and Star City with the Queens, who have no idea what he’s up to. Bruce assumes Tim’s guardian is some guy named Eddie (a lie Tim pulled out of thin air), and Tim’s balancing this precarious act of being a superhero under two noses.

Then comes the reveal.

After the Tower incident, when Jason comes back and beats Tim bloody, Tim limps home to Star City, where he can’t hide the injuries anymore. Oliver and Dinah are horrified. They demand answers, and Tim finally confesses everything. Dinah is livid, Oliver is fuming, and Roy is caught somewhere between “I’m proud of you” and “I want to wring your neck.” Oliver decides he’s going to have a chat with Bruce about endangering his son.

But Tim? He begs them to let him stay as Robin. He swears he’ll stop as soon as someone else steps in, but Gotham needs Robin. Reluctantly, the Queens agree, but now they’re involved. The next time Bruce and Tim are working a case, Oliver is in the Batcave, glaring daggers at Bruce while Dinah insists on debriefing Tim like he’s an adult.

And oh, the dynamics.

Tim is fiercely loyal to both his families. He adores the Queens—they’re the parents he always wanted—but the Bats become like a second family to him. Jason, after getting over the guilt and anger, starts treating Tim like a brother. Meanwhile, Roy and Jason develop this weird rivalry over who’s Tim’s actual favorite sibling.

Roy: “I taught Tim how to shoot a bow. Can you even use a bow?” Jason: “I’m sorry, does the term ‘second Robin’ mean nothing to you? He’s literally following in my footsteps.” Tim: “I like both of you equally!” Tim, internally: It’s definitely Roy.

Bruce? Bruce gets jealous. He watches Tim laugh freely with Oliver or cling to him at the Watchtower, and there’s this pang of something he doesn’t want to admit. Bruce cares about Tim, but Tim’s already got a dad in Oliver, and it shows.

But at the end of the day, both families fiercely love Tim. Whether he’s in Gotham or Star City, he’s surrounded by people who’d do anything for him. And Tim? Tim wouldn’t trade either family for the world.

[essektheylyss]

I did in fact finish Novelist as a Vocation and it was GREAT and now I've started City of Saints and Madmen. Which is, as the title probably suggests, going to make me insane.

I was going to pack two books. I decided on a whim that I was also going to bring a third. I found out that Murakami's Novelist as a Vocation is finally in paperback, so now I have that as well.

I am always, if nothing else, painfully on brand.

[koolades-world]

Random Obey Me! Headcannons

Lucifer really likes human world blue cheese but refuses to admit it because he knows he will be made fun of for it by his brothers

Mammon has his first dollar he made in the Devildom framed and when Mc found it while looking for condoms he was really embarrassed

Idk it’s so funny to me to think of Mc and Mammon about to have sexy time and they need to go look for a condom. Mammon swears he has some so Mc goes digging though a drawer and finds a framed dollar bill while butt naked

“Mammon what is this-”

“SHIT UNSEE THAT HUMAN”

Levi has neck and back pains from all the gaming he does and really loves massages but is too scared to ask

Satan once stole a pair of Lucifer’s underwear and hung it from the RAD flagpole

Asmo made it a point to introduce Mc into his nightly routine as his face mask buddy, even to the point of doing it over call if they’re separated

This also sounds funny as shit imagine someone like Levi walking in on that

“So anyways, I stomped their skull in and got blood on my new boots. My hands also hurt from wringing the neck of that-”

“Asmo, Lucifer wants to know- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU”

“A face mask, Levi. You could use one”

Beel loves kids and likes it when they use him as a jungle gym

Belphie always kicks people in his sleep without fail. Mammon swears he does it on purpose but knows he doesn't

Simeon does the best hair braids and is regarded the best in the Celestial Realm

Luke hates girl scout cookies since he thinks homemade cookies are so much better

Solomon can be seen leaving Asmo's room at any point during the day but nobody ever sees him going in. Imagine hanging out with Asmo and Solomon just fucking appears and then disappears just as fast

Diavolo's favorite color is pink

Barbatos has a succulent garden and Mc will bring him a new one every time they come back from the human world

Thirteen definitely loves Mexican food and spice in general

Raphael is convinced soft blankets are the best thing to ever exist

Mephisto once accidently knocked over one of Luke's cakes and felt so bad that he sent Purgatory Hall a buttload of money and wrote an article in the RAD newspaper about how great the angels were at baking

Mammon and Lucifer openly hate white chocolate (because it's not chocolate). Satan does too but pretends to like it because Lucifer likes it

Whenever Satan needs a parter to go to the events he gets invited to, Mc and Asmo are his first choices. He's closest with Asmo (Belphie is a second close) and doesn't mind the fanfare

Asmo and Beel often travel around the Devildom together. Asmo can't eat everything he orders since he just wants pictres so Beel is the ideal companion. Beel is also the perfect body guard

Solomon's current favorite liquor is Fireball and always has some on hand, but Luke always hides it because he thinks drinking is a bad habit

Barbatos definitely listens to heavy metal but everyone thinks he listens to classical music

If my grandmothers met the brothers, Beel would be their fav because he would clean his plate but if it was everyone, Simeon would take it home because he’s so charming even though he’s barely clothed

Everyone is so downbad for Mc I think it might scare off other people how much they hover. Like, a lower demon bothering you? Literally anything could happen to them, like they could be thrown in an endless loop of suffering, they could be made dirt poor for eternity, or they could be torn limb from limb <3 gotta love it

Asmo and Belphie make a deadly duo when to comes to trapping people/demons/angels. They both have the power to lure you in, and would probably take turn luring in victims for an evening as some sort of strange brother bonding. They both remind me of angler fish in a way. Asmo lures them with the pretense of sex and Belphie with relaxation, two things people can’t get enough of and they can stay calm enough to pull it off

Solomon has definitely made the brothers swap bodies or something crazy like that, on accident or not, you decide

Whenever Mc is feeling down, Diavolo offers his man titties as a nice pillow to relax on because he read somewhere once humans liked that

Beel is like a bull in a china shop so do not take him anyway where you need to be delicate. Belphie knows this, and will put him to sleep and carry him when they need to go somewhere like an antique shop by promising him a snack afterwards

Beel thinks Satan, Belphie, and Mc make the best weights out of everyone. Satan will just read, Belphie will just sleep, and Mc is like his personal cheerleader. However, he can and will lift all his brothers and Mc and the same time if he wants to, it’s just difficult to get them all in the same place at the same time

Thirteen, Belphie, and Satan got in a prank war once and it had to end in a draw since one party could not best the other. In the end, they made a final, collaborative prank and pulled it on Solomon

Mc once fell down the stairs in the human realm, ended up in the hospital, and sent the entire cast into panic so much that they took turns watching over them

Mephisto and Mc once had a night out drinking together and (somehow) returned to the HoL but were totally smashed. Lucifer forbid them from doing it again, but they still sneak out together and just crash at Mephiso’s place instead

[britishneonjello]

Crowley had not looked Aziraphale in the eye since they had sat down. The world is doomed again, and the burning moment of the last time they spoke still lingers on both their lips. Neither of them speak.

Finally, Crowley, both defeated once again by the gravity of his heart and angry at his angel, runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"1941," he hisses. Aziraphale's insides crumple like paper at the sound of his voice. Crowley continues.

"God, I love him," he quotes. Aziraphale shatters.

The angel jumps up from his seat as if he were on fire (he is). He's sweating and shaking suddenly, throat closing but not quickly enough.

"You read my diary?" Aziraphale feels the ground tilt and the Earth fall off its axis. That wasn't a part of the Plan. Crowley's profile was unreadable.

The demon stands slowly. His limbs drip towards the stilted ground and he breathes. He can't stop himself.

"I lo–" Crowley starts again. He is cut off.

"I–!"

He looks at him. Now it is Aziraphale who won't meet his gaze. It is taking quite literally everything to keep Crowley planted where he is. The sight of Aziraphale's tears always destroys him completely.

As always, the angel wrings his hands. His face is red, his rosy cheeks shiny. Crowley only catches glimpses of the galaxies in his eyes as he looks this way and that.

The angel steels himself. And then that's it. He almost chuckles at the timing of it, but he's so, so...relieved. Exhilarated. Happy.

"I love him, most ineffably," Aziraphale recites. They lock eyes.

Time wraps around itself. It's wimey like that. And suddenly Crowley is back in Eden, surrounded by peace and perfection and life. And for the first time in the history of the world, the Sun rises. And Crowley looks East.

Of course, atop the Wall, a figure. Slowly awash with molten gold from a star–his stars, his star–the figure stands nervous but sure, calm but curious, beautiful and divine. Aziraphale turns away from the horizon towards the garden. And Crowley falls.

He falls into Aziraphale's arms only to squeeze and pull and lift the angel as close as divinely possible. The warmth and strength of the soft arms that desperately grip him back seep into his bones.

Aziraphale presses his face hard into Crowley's neck, daring anyone at all to separate them ever again. He's sobbing audibly now, as Crowley continues his whispers of, "I love you, I love you, I love you," right into his ear. Aziraphale decides two arms are not enough, so he pulls his wings out of space and wraps them around their shoulders, too. He feels rather than sees inky black wings shelter around their waists.

"Please, do it again," the angel pulls back just enough to look his demon in the eye once more. Oh, Someone, they're both a mess. "Kiss me, again. Please, Crowley. My love. How I love you, so."

Crowley does.

[vampiretendencies]

request; jj blurb idea! wearing his clothes for the first time/him seeing you in his clothes for the first time. maybe showering at the chateau but you didn’t bring anything so he gives you a tshirt! hehe literally kicking my feet under the table rn

pairing; jj x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, maybe suggestive

authors note; i was doing the same when you sent this anon in love with this idea ! (req a blurb from below w what’s left on the prompt list, or send in blurb, imagines, & fic ideas) a few more hours until season 3!

other ways to say i love you prompt list

The opportunity to wear JJ’s clothes tainted your thoughts undoubtedly.

Not only because it belonged to him but because everything about JJ’s wardrobe, is so JJ.

No problem with repping any and everything that belonged to your infamous boyfriend. Wether it be wearing his pair of boxers as shorts, a wife beater to slumber in, or a random tee shirt to go out in broad day light.

You just longed for his material to be around your figure.

Congenial and adequate, soft yet comfortable— all elements of his clothes that are alike with JJ.

They are his clothes, after all.

“JJ let go of me!”

Stood smack in the the middle of JJ’s room at the chateau. His window partially open, wind bristling from the night air, making its way through. Whilst the hard wood floors beneath the two of you tracked the imprints of your feet. Bed rolled around in, from you forcing JJ off of you then— merely to let you get up and off of the bed to shower, that you did. Since you came out though, wearing little clothing, (given that there wasn't much of your own items lying around at the Chateau) he hasn't let you be.

He encapsulates you with his sinewy arms, body swallowing you whole. Whilst you forcefully push your hands against his broad, shirtless chest— the skin mellow and thick. Indentations of your miniature hands marking his skin, like your were a rag doll; screaming for dear life.

All JJ could muster was a low, raspy chuckle.

“Say you won’t leave.”

JJ wanted to make love to you all day long.

Not sex.

But emotionally.

To emotionally make love, to have and hold. A day full of luster, every millisecond spent around or with you. To confide in and maybe even shrink you and put you in his pocket.

A keepsake.

“You know I can’t, I don’t have another change of clothes.”

Behind every ‘can’t’ JJ miraculously finds a way, opportunity at hand to see you clad in something of his.

“Lets find you something of mine?”

JJ flicks his tongue, peering down at you due to the fact that he knows he’s won and you aren’t moving a muscle. His hands maneuver themselves to the lower part of your ass, hands habitually grasp the masses with a squeeze of his hands.

“Are you gonna’ give me something to wear then or what?”

You hid your secret giddiness inside, not wanting to be the one to initiate this sentiment— things seemingly working themselves out anyway.

“Actually, baby … just fuckin’ walk around naked … s’even better.”

He acknowledges the glint in your eye, possibly even a twitch that says, ‘get me some damn clothes before I wring your neck.’

“Okay okay, whatcha’ thinkin’ a little Heywards t-shirt action … Bait Shop shirt … ?”

He let go of you distastefully, instantly salivating for the contact again. Walking over to the wooden drawers of his dresser, pulling out multiple options— signaling you to come over and pick.

“Surprise me.”

And you turn around, facing the emptiness of his room, that wasn’t his room, but nonetheless. Rummaging was heard as he hummed and mumbled minuscule things to himself.

“Turn around, pretty girl.”

An off-black brownish t-shirt is thrown into your hands. A decor in the upper left side that read ‘Sex Wax Est 2005’, font circular and embellished with stars on either end.

“Your turn-“

He was already turning around, the gentlemen that he prided on being. You grinned at the cotton beneath your digits, bringing it up to your nose— though it had been washed, his powerful musk still retained it. The silky sensation of yeasty beer and a freshly rolled blunt encompassed your senses.

“Need more time?”

“Just a second, J.”

If only he knew your fixation was obsessive beforehand.

“I’ll just be here … y’know ... missin' my girl."

Feet away, physical touch being his love language fully had a choke hold on him per usual.

After you were done with your inspection you pulled the thin material of your cropped cami past your shoulders, bra clasped tight to your back. Leaving you to remove those lacey pocketed shorts that adorned your body; his shirt lazily pulled past your head, drowning you in its bigger size, falling just to your mid thigh.

The sole way to sleep with JJ disclosed.

You felt more his than you ever had in the past; claiming his array of bib and tucker with exuberance.

His baby suffocating in him.

You cleared your throat gesturing for him to turn around, his mouth gaping open as he's awe struck; open long enough that you were impressed something didn't fly in it.

"Shit you look better than me!"

Ogle eyes whilst his mouth formed a tight-lipped smile, stomach churning and insides wavering at the woman he chose to take part in his life with him.

It may be a shirt to most, but with his person inside of it made it all the more nostalgic, heart growing tender.

"C'mere gotta get a better look at you."

Following suit you step forward to him, lips instantly connecting with your jaw with pure infatuation.

"S'perfect baby."

"Yeah? Think I can pass as the new JJ Maybank?" In the same position the two of you were in minutes ago, except grins are wider and souls aching all the more for eachother; and you mocked him.

"Pass me a beer and a J."

[callsignavalon]

i wanna take you there

logan x reader

warnings: established relationship, no protection, literally no plot and all smut

(this has been in the drafts for years and i stumbled across it when i was going through my google docs & it’s literally perfect because who doesn’t want logan?)

Logan’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and it’s explosive and chaotic and you can feel it in your bones, feel it gather in your stomach and curl up your spine and tear the breath from the back of your throat. His hands are warm, warm and calloused and familiar and tight on your hips, your palms sliding over the broad expanse of his chest, his body pressed up against yours, hard and strong and safe—

Your head tips back as the kiss deepens, rough and slow and building, spreading like wildfire and lighting every single nerve in your body, fueling the needy ache of anticipation deep in your abdomen. His hand drags through your hair, brushes over your cheek and the curve of your jaw and slides up under your shirt, callouses scratching against your skin. He’s being so gentle—so careful, like you’re glass, like you’re fragile, like you’re liable to break—which is stupid and pointless and so very, very true, because as his teeth scrape ever-so-slightly over your bottom lip you know with startling certainty that you are going to collapse--

You wrap a hand around the back of his neck, grip the collar of his plaid button-down in a small, white-knuckled fist and tug him closer, curving your body against his, and he makes a sound between a growl and a moan and moves his hand farther up under your blouse and when he thumbs over your nipples through one thin, sheer layer of fabric your skin becomes electric, a low pulsing throbbing rhythm that spreads through your entire body. And then Logan breaks the kiss and he looks at you and he’s saying fuck I want to touch you baby and you’re saying yes yes yes Logan please, and then his hand moves down, down over the muscle of your thigh, and he pushes your skirt up,out of the way,and you’re choking out a sound you’ve never made before. His mouth trails down over your neck, nipping and sucking and kissing the delicate skin of your throat, his breath coming hard but steady, and you’re leaning against his shoulder, anticipation very nearly setting your entire body on fire. And then—and then you can feel him, feel his fingers through your panties, moving in a tight, irregular rhythm against your clit, and it’s maddening, the slip and slide of damp cotton not enough pressure, not enough friction, not nearly enough—

Your muscles are locked, as his finger sneaks under the edge of your panties, and his nail scrapes just a little at your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to wring a whimper from the back of your throat. Logan chuckles, and you can feel it, the sound deep and rough and warm and vibrating in his chest. And when he moves his hand again, he rubs a tight, slick circle around your clit, just one, and your muscles tense up, and your thighs fucking quiver, and he nips your earlobe and then does it again and again and again—

“Fuck Logan oh my God right there please yes fuck oh god Logan.”

When you come it’s short and sweet, a flash of everything gone hot and white and good, and Logan catches your eyes and doesn’t look away the whole time, doesn’t let you look away, either. You don’t think you could even if you wanted to, even if you had to, because the way he’s staring at you—it’s like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it makes your blood run hot and fierce in your veins and it makes you want him.

You reach up and you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him down into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, and Logan’s dragging his thumb over your clit, groaning into your mouth when you grind into his hand and the bulge of his cock in his jeans. He guides you back with his hand on your hip, and then the backs of your knees hit the bed and you’re stumbling, off balance, falling back onto the blankets. You drag yourself further up the bed on your elbows and watch as he works on the buttons of his shirt, tugging off the sleeves and letting it fall to the floor, and—

You stare.

Because Logan is tall and muscular and powerful, and there’s a strength written into the lines of his body that makes you shiver—he’s broad and dark and barrel-chested and impossibly perfect and the way he’s watching you makes you feel like you’re on fire.

You’re tugging your blouse up over your head and then he’s there, Logan is right there, tossing it to the side and unclasping your bra—Jeez, you’re fuckin’ perfect, baby, fuck—and then his hands move down and he’s tugging off your skirt and panties in one smooth motion—so goddamn sexy, I swear to god—he kicks off his jeans with that same brutal efficiency, not bothering to let go of you, or not wanting to, his hands kneading your breasts and your hips and your ass, like he can’t decide, like he needs to touch you everywhere, all at once.

Logan kisses you, eases you down onto the bed and then he stares, his eyes clear and hot as his gaze rakes over your body, makes you squirm with the intensity of it, a light flush spreading like wildfire over your cheeks. A smile stretches across his mouth, crooked and dirty and deliberate, and then he places his forearms on either side of your head and his muscles are bunched up and solid as he holds himself over you.

“Darlin,” Logan murmurs, his voice urgent, his cock hard and thick and heavy between your thighs.

There is a long electric moment when your eyes meet, clashing and dilated and filled with want—

Logan pushes into you with one long, slow stroke, and his gaze is locked on yours the entire time.

And it’s—

It hurts, yeah, because he’s big, but it’s more than that, because you feel full and stretched and there’s something helplessly, hopelessly erotic about how Logan’s eyes never fucking leave yours, not for a second. He stills and he grits his teeth and he groans out, “Fuck,” and you consume the word as his hips stutter and rock into yours, spark little flares of pleasure that make you tremble underneath him. And then he starts to move, starts to find a slow, nearly painful rhythm and your breaths are coming out in little gasps and the warmth of his body is suffocating, his eyes still locked on yours—fuck, fuck,I’m not gonna last—and then you lean up and you kiss down beneath his jaw and then follow up with your teeth and he jerks like he’s been struck by a live wire—god yes feel so fucking good, baby—

The angle changes, just slightly, but then Logan is hitting something inside of you that makes your nerves light on fire, and there’s a pressure building up in your stomach that’s hot and blinding and it makes your muscles tremble, your hips rock against his almost of their own volition. He groans your name and you can feel it, your body taut and tense and waiting for the thunderous fucking wave of something that threatens to drown you both—and then Logan’s looking at you and you’re looking at him and it’s intense and powerful and fucking catastrophic and that’s finally enough to break you both open.

Logan leans down and his eyes are brown and flecked with gold and his pupils are blown wide and he’s saying something, he’s saying something and it’s low and tight and hurried and perfect—

“I love you. I love you, I—fucking hell, baby, fuck—“

“Logan—God, I’m—“

Everything goes hot and white and your body trembles with the force of it, muscles clenching and fluttering and then Logan makes a low, harsh desperate noise against your neck and gives one last deep thrust and then makes a sound like he’s drowning and coming up for air at the same time. And he’s rolling over, pulling you close to him and his grip is crushingly tight, his face buried in the crook of your neck, holding onto you like you might disappear at any second.

Everything seems to slow down for a while.

When the pieces come back together you’re still lying there, and you’re shaky and your breath is coming rough. Logan’s grip is still tight around you, and he doesn’t react when you shift slightly. In the new, strange quiet, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against his chest. Logan lets out a long, shuddering breath, his chin resting on your head. You stay that way for a long time.

“You know I love you, too, right?” you say finally, your voice quiet and small.

Logan chuckles, and kisses the top of your head. “Yeah.”

[lovebugism]

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ How The Gang™ Eats Pussy !

summary: the title is pretty self-explanatory, don't ya think? pairing: the gang™ / f!reader warnings: oral sex (r!receiving) 18+ mdni! a/n: uhh.. happy new year! what better way to start of 2023 than some good ol' fashioned smut? it's been a long time since i've posted any of my writing here so pls be gentle i'm literally so sensitive (but if you have any thoughts or requests feel free to send them here!)

steve !

he’s so so desperate to please

it stems from his reputation as king steve™ i think

like he wants to prove himself so bad even though you’re already head over heels for him

he’s constantly checking in on you

asking you if like it and if he’s doing alright

so when you say yes (because you will say yes) he redoubles his effort

he’s a total sucker for praise

it’s also totally on brand that he’s exponentially good at it

it almost makes you jealous because you’re like how many times have you done this????

but he makes you feel so good you don’t even care

it only takes a couple of times before he’s completely in tune with your body

he always starts off slow and teasing

wants to wind you up until you snap

he knows exactly where to touch you to wring your orgasm out of you

and it comes so gut-wrenchingly slow before hitting you all at once

he’s definitely the kind of guy who’ll talk you through it

“yep, there it is. c’mon, cum for me, you can do it. come on, show me how good you can be. uh-huh. thaaat’s my girl”

he makes you come so hard you cry

and he moans with his mouth on you

because he gets off getting you off

loves getting on his knees for you

and having one of your legs folded over his shoulder

so he can pull you closer by your ass

gets so into it that he won’t stop until you make him

like you have to physically pull him up by his hair

definitely a chronic hand holder™

he’ll have you on your back with his face sandwiched between your thighs

and when your legs start to shake he’ll reach for your hands

“here. hold my hands. let me make you feel good.”

but he won’t let go of you when you come

he’ll keep going as your first orgasm fades into a second, much stronger one

and you can’t stop it or push him away because he’s holding onto your hands

you just have to let it happen and it feels so good

that kind of pleasure you wanna chase and run away from all at once

and after he just smiles up at you with the lower half of his face glistening with you

“see? i knew you could do it.”

eddie !

absolutely loves a woman in charge

would definitely rather you sit on his face and ride his tongue

he’ll make you cum once that way before flipping you over and making you cum again with your legs wrapped around his neck

and he’s so fucking smug 

he’s just smirking the entire time

always wants you to say his name

especially when you cum

keeps eye contact the entire time

will look directly at you while he spits on your pussy

and grins when it makes your eyes roll back in your head

if he’s feeling particularly dominant he’ll stop whenever you look away

“c’mon, look at me, sweetheart. can’t keep going until i see those eyes… there we go.”

he’s a little overeager sometimes

sloppy and aggressive when he gets really into it

sometimes you have to be like “whoa, slow down, tiger. we’ve got all night���

and he just smirks at you like “yeah, we do”

then you’re eating your words because best believe he will go all night

he’s also got a massive praise kink

and loves when you tell him how good you feel

bc he’s not all that experienced

and he likes to know he’s not the Worst at eating pussy

especially if you have more experience bc he wants to be the best for you

and he Will absolutely brag about it to anyone that will hear when you tell him no one’s ever made you cum so hard before 

he’s also super duper vocal

he loves the way you taste and will 100% tell you

pussy spreader supreme™

just loves to take a minute to look at you before ravishing you

and you hate it because you feel so vulnerable

but he’s so obsessed with you “god, you have the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen”

and he's not even saying it to make you feel good necessarily

he's basically just talking to himself

will smile and laugh like a cheeky little shit when he makes you cum

can be a little bit patronizing but in the eddie munson kinda way

“i thought you said you couldn’t cum again? what happened to that, huh?”

you’ll also have to pull him off of you or else he’ll keep going

he could absolutely eat your pussy for hours if you let him

robin !

definitely has zero experience eating pussy

like maybe she’s tried to learn by watching porn 

but definitely has no idea what she’s doing

she’s a little shy at first and is constantly look to you for reassurance

wants you to tell her what to do

“go down a little bit… a little to the left— yeah, shit, right there”

and once she finds that sweet spot she’ll work at it until you come

she’s super duper gentle at first

but once she gains confidence, good luck

will give you 1000000% when her mouth is on you

like even when her neck starts to hurt from the angle, she will not stop until you cum

she’ll talk a lot and compliment you the entire time

and will say anything that comes to mind no matter how dirty it is

“god, you’re so wet” “you taste so good, i didn’t know a person could taste this good” “you’re pussy is perfect. i honestly didn’t think you could get any prettier”

she doesn’t even know what she’s saying half the time

but it literally drives you crazy

also the sound of her voice is sexy enough to make you cum

and you’re constantly begging her to talk dirty to you

“please, talk to me” you’ll whine

and after the first few times she’ll know what you mean but still play coy

“i am talking to you” she’ll say with an wide eyes all innocent

but yeah she’s more than happy to do it because 1. she can’t shut up to save her life and 2. she knows how quickly it’ll drive you to your breaking point

wants you to pull at her hair and steer her wherever you want her to go and bury her face between your legs

is not against you sitting on her face

even though the idea scares you a little 

like you don’t want to hurt her or break her neck or something

she’s just like “if i die eating your pussy, i will die the happiest woman alive”

and you believe her

nancy !

so in my head she’s, like, freshly out

and hasn’t eaten a girl out before

though she has dreamed about it many, many times

but when she goes down on you, it’s like she’s a professional

bc she’s a perfectionist and can’t ever half-ass anything

she’s 100% tactical and sees it as her goal to make you come

so she’ll throw herself wholly into doing just that

will call your pussy her pussy because yeah

i see her as being a little bit rough too

so there are constantly bruises and crescent-shaped marks left on your thighs and hips from her nails

which she keeps trimmed just so she can finger you <3

there’s biting too because she loves the feeling of your skin between her teeth

won’t do it enough to hurt you per se, just enough to leave a mark

she uses just enough teeth to drive you crazy

sucks your clit into her mouth at the same time she drives her fingers into your g-spot

she’ll also spank directly on your clit to drive you towards another (second, third, fourth?) orgasm

she can get nasty with it if she wants

and will eat you out as a way to get what she wants

if you’re upset at her, she Will go down on you 

partly as an apology but also because she knows you won’t be mad at her after

bc it’s impossible to be after she’s made you cum so hard you can’t feel your legs

i see her more into praising you than you praising her

she’ll compliment you the whole way through

but it’s also a little bit condescending

“oh look at you, always so pretty and wet for me, aren’t you? this is all it takes? just me touching you? seriously?”

and i see her loving to have her hair tugged at

but like also

she doesn’t like to be told what to do

so if you’re pulling her closer to you or trying to pull her away, she’ll definitely punish you

“what did i tell you about touching me, huh? that’s not what good girls do, right? now, i’m gonna make you come and i’m not gonna stop until i see tears. touch me again and you won’t come again for another week, got it?”

maybe i’m just projecting but i can see her definitely having a mommy kink

and still has an air of dominance about her even when she’s making you feel good

she’ll sense you getting close and will command that you cum for her

her voice is so soft and gentle but she isn’t asking you to cum she demanding that you do

and definitely gets off on working your body to its breaking point