#also he's kind of an ass in this one but i feel like being an ass is kind of on brand for him more often than not

[wonderjanga]

So Ive had this prompt stuck in my head, dunno if you've done it before, but:

Billy unexpectedly powers down due to a villain's weapon. But instead of being, well, scruffy little billy, he ends up looking like a greek child with the toga (?) and all. What would the JL reaction be?

This whole incident started half a year ago with the divine beings in his head arguing about something. Arguing was a surprisingly common occurrence despite the fact that most of these guys were over thousands of years old. He tended to normally tune them out whenever this was happening.

Achilles: “BILLY!”

Marvel: *startles* “Yes, Achilles?”

Achilles: “Chiton or toga?”

Marvel: “Huh?

Mercury: “Chiton or toga? We’re making you a gift. Aren’t we like so kind?”

Marvel: “A gift…?” *sounds weary* “I don’t like the sound of that. What are you planning?”

Zeus: “Nothing!”

Marvel: “Solomon?”

Solomon: “It really is nothing. This will actually aid you in case of any accidents while in field.”

Marvel: “Okay then…”

Hercules: “NOW PICK!”

Marvel: “Alright, alright, dang. Uh… What’s a chiton?”

Zeus: “What’s a- What’s a chiton? I’ve never felt such a shame for one of my children before.”

Marvel: “I’m not your kid, but okay.”

Solomon: “Billy, a chiton is a tunic that was worn traditionally by the Greeks.”

Marvel: “Oooh. Uh… okay then I pick that one.”

Zeus: “Ha ha, suck it Atlas!”

Atlas: “I also wanted him to pick the Chiton…?”

Zeus: “I know. I just don’t like you. I thought that was obvious by now.”

Billy didn’t know that Robin was like five feet away and watching this entire interaction go down. To Damian, this grown ass man was just having a full conversation with himself, oblivious to the world. He reported this behavior to his father later.

Batman: “That’s normal.”

Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”

Batman: “That’s normal for Marvel. Think nothing of it.”

Anyways, fast forward six months. Billy forgot about the gift thing the Gods were talking about. Mostly because they hadn’t even given him the gift. Then the time came when Billy was forced to be detransformed. All because of a stupid villain’s machine going haywire. Sivana could do better. So now, Billy was standing in front of the JL who had surrounded him in a half circle.

(Ancient Greek is in italics)

Billy: “Uh… Hello?” *doesn’t even realize he’s decked out in the Ancient Greek drip, complete with the chiton from earlier*

JL: *staring in befuddlement*

Supes: “He’s been de-aged?”

WW: *steps forward* “Brother?”

Mercury: “Okay, Billy, stare at her for like three seconds and then be like you’re Zeus‘s kin?”

Billy: *doesn’t even know why he’s doing this but does the three second stare* “You’re Zeus’ kin?”

Mercury: “You’re my favorite champion now.”

WW: “I am. I am Diana Prince. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?”

Solomon: “Thavma is a nice choice.”

Zeus: “So is Keraunos. Which is arguably better because it means lightning.”

Billy: “Thavma, or Keraunos. Either is fine.”

Flash: *whispering to Batman* “Spooky, what’re they saying?”

Batman: “I don’t know. I’m versed in Greek, not Ancient Greek. I can just barely make out an eighth of the words they’re saying.”

Soon after all of this, he was taken to the Watchtower. The JL dropped him off in a rec room and assigned Robin to watch him so the team could go to a meeting room to discuss the whole ordeal.

Robin!Damian: *looking him up and down*

Billy: *can feel the judgment through Robin’s mask* “What is it?”

Robin!Damian: “What?”

Billy: “I said what is it?”

Robin!Damian: “Tt. A language barrier.”

Billy: *frog blinks* “Language barrier…?”

Solomon: “I’ll just turn off the Ancient Greek for you.”

Billy: *clears his throat* “Can you understand me now?” *slight Greek accent still there*

Robin!Damian: “More clearly. Yes.”

Billy: “Cool, now what is it?”

Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”

Billy: “What is it? I can tell you’re staring at me judgmentally through that thing on your face.”

Robin!Damian: *visibly bristles* “I am not.”

Billy: “Yes, you are.”

Robin!Damian: “I am not.”

Billy: “You are.”

Robin!Damian: “Am not.”

Billy: “Yuh huh.”

Robin!Damian: “Nuh uh-” *realizes he let that leave his mouth* “Why are you acting like a child?

Billy: “I am a child.”

Robin!Damian: *stares at him for a couple moments* “The reason I am staring at you judgmentally, is that I had previously assumed you had been born an adult.”

Billy: “Who told you that?”

Robin!Damian: “Nightwing.”

Billy: *remembers he’s not supposed to know who that is* “Who?”

Robin!Damian: “He’s someone you’ll meet when you’re an adult.”

Billy: “Okay…?”

*silence*

Somehow, the two ended up crawling in the vents together. You couldn’t even ask Billy how it happened.

Robin!Damian: “Crawl faster.”

Billy: “I’m trying.”

They spent a while up there, crawling around, eavesdropping, stopping every now and then in the kitchen for snacks.

Robin!Damian: “This is chocolate.” *hands him a chocolate bar*

Billy: *eyes literally shining as he looks at the bar because he rarely gets to have chocolate*

Robin!Damian: “You open it like so.” *opens his own bar* “Now come. We must continue on the move. Back to the vents.”

This went on until the JL started to look for them.

Flash: *searching the rec room frantically because they should’ve been here*

Robin!Damian and Billy: *descend from the vents*

Robin!Damian: “What do you need speedster?”

Flash: *screams*

[froggiewrites]

May I request some Luffy smut? Maybe including some aphrodisiac of some kind or influence from a devil fruit- I don't mind! I'd just love to see your ideas

I am SO sorry this has taken so long, thank you to everyone who's sent in requests for being so patient. Life has been kicking my ass this month so badly I haven't even been able to read any fanfic, let alone write it. Fingers crossed that the end of November is kinder than the beginning!

I'm really excited to have finally finished this request, I'm a big sucker for sex pollen/aphrodisiac stuff so this was really fun for me! Also, this was my first time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did him justice!

Need

Pairing: Luffy x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You find your Captain in dire need of a little help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't provide? Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 1.8k

You should have known something was wrong when the ship was quiet. The Thousand Sunny is never quiet. There’s always the sound of clashing metal, of excited voices, of a song dancing its way across the deck. But you don’t hear a single noise outside of your door, nor do you see anyone as you pad your way outside. 

You knew that you were docking soon, that your crew would leave to explore the island, but you didn’t expect them to leave without waking you up. You had been on night watch last night, so you certainly needed the rest, but you’re not used to them not at least momentarily waking you to let you know where everyone’s going.

Your surprise and confusion only grows as you hear someone crashing through the brush, and you see your Captain emerge, sprinting precariously toward the ship as though he’s being chased.

“Luffy?”

He doesn’t answer as he continues to rush forward, launching himself up onto the Sunny. Luffy stumbles onto the deck, teetering dangerously towards the railing. Before you can rush to catch him, his back hits the wood, and he lowers himself to the ground, legs splayed out. You can’t even tell if he can see you until he murmurs your name. He’s dripping with sweat, his face red.

You kneel down between his legs, leaning forward to try to get a good look at him. You can’t see any visible injuries, but clearly something is horribly wrong. “Are you okay, Luff?”

“No.” His voice is nothing but a whine, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Need…something.”

“Something?”

Luffy glances around, pout on his face. “Something. Dunno what.”

You reach out to rest your hand on his forehead, which is burning so hot you almost pull it back in shock. He leans into your touch, giving off a soft hum. “You have a fever. Do you know what happened to you?”

“Nothing happened. We were all exploring, and we split into groups, and then…hm…I ate that fruit Zoro picked.”

Oh god. Zoro’s not exactly a botanist, or a survivalist, and for a single moment you believe with every fiber of your being that your dear friend has accidentally poisoned your captain. “What kind of fruit was it?”

“I dunno. It was sweet. And red.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t narrow it down at all. God, you would think that eating one mystery fruit in your life would be enough for you.”

His indignation beats out his discomfort for just a moment. “The first one went really well.”

You guess you can’t argue with that. “Can you remember anything else about it? We can rule out any devil fruit since you haven’t…exploded.”

“It was warm. And it made me wanna come find you.”

That makes you pause. “It…made you want to find me? Like specifically me?”

“Yeah.”

You have a bad feeling about this. “Do you know why you wanted me?”

He squints in concentration. “To…make it better.”

“How?”

He grabs your hand and places it back on his face. The sound he makes is borderline erotic. “Like this. This helps.”

The warmth against your hand, the moan that escapes your captain, the tent you can see growing in his pants, it all starts painting a very troubling picture. A very tempting one, but troubling nonetheless. “Luffy, are you warm anywhere in particular?”

“My stomach. And lower.” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck. His nose nuzzles against you, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and sighing. His hands gently massage against your hips, reveling in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against you. You clench your thighs involuntarily, a move you hope he doesn’t notice.

“You’re—ahh!” One of his hands moves up to your breast, squeezing your breast through your shirt, and he moans again at your squeak. “You’re not in your right mind, Luffy! I think that fruit was—ah!” His hand slides beneath your shirt, then your bra, and finally he pinches your nipple. 

“Come closer.” His voice is thick as he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is fixing it. Feels nice.” He jerks his hips, and you can feel his hardness rub against you. You try to keep your moan inside of your mouth, but when you do, he huffs, and ruts into you harder.

“Luffy!”

He grins. “That’s better.” As his hand begins to slide down the front of your pants you finally come to your senses and grab it, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at you, a little clarity coming back to his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You–you’re clearly under the influence of something, and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want–”

“I want it.” The hand slides slowly down further. His voice grows hungrier, more desperate. “I need it.”

With the way he’s looking at you, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed, you believe him.

“Well if you really need it, I’d hate to deprive you, Captain.”

He grins, and before you know it, you’re pinned to the deck, your shirt and bra removed, Luffy’s teeth pressing insistently against your chest. He shoves his hand unceremoniously between your legs, making a small noise of satisfaction against you when you squeal. His fingers slide against your clothed clit, sending a shiver up your spine and slowly building the heat in your gut. He hums quietly, “It’s wet.” He looks up at you. “For me?”

You flush, before nodding quickly. You can’t bring yourself to look at him out of fear you’ll combust. You can see the sweat sliding down the muscles in his arms and chest, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pants. He looks even better than you’d ever dreamed, his eyes radiating a hunger than you never expected to be directed at you.

He quickly slides down your pants and underwear in a single motion, and in your surprise you press your thighs together, shielding yourself from him. He practically growls, “Stop that. Wanna taste.”

He pries your thighs apart, diving into you with the same enthusiasm he does everything else. His tongue laps at you with reckless abandon as he sloppily takes everything you’ll give him. His hands pull you impossibly closer, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth explores. When you moan, he laughs against you, the rumble of it spreading across your sensitive skin and making your thighs tense around his head. You worry you’ll suffocate him, drown him, but he doesn’t seem to mind losing to you.

You can feel the tension building in your body, your legs shaking as you come closer and closer to your peak. Your hands grip the grass beneath you, one second away from ripping it out of the deck entirely. Some part of you is hyper aware of the fact you are out in the open, where anybody could see or hear, but the rest of you is lost in the pleasure of the moment, in the feeling of your Captain’s tongue against you. So you don’t try to stop your back from arching as your climax grows nearer, nor do you make any attempt to hold back your cry as you cum on your Captain’s face.

He pulls away from you, his face dripping, his pupils blown out, and his lips upturned into a dazed smile. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he slowly licks his lips, savoring every drop of you. Without a word, his mouth crashes into yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His hands roughly force down his pants, exposing his weeping cock to the cold air. He lets out a borderline whimper of relief against your lips, before pulling back just long enough to whisper, “Get ready.”

“Lu–ah!” He thrusts into you in one smooth stroke as his lips once again insistently press against yours, stealing your breath away. You can feel every inch of him as your body welcomes him in, clenching around his length. He moans into your mouth, the sound deep and wanton. He gives both of you little time to adjust before his hips are rocking, chasing the release he’s been so desperate for. He’s moving so quickly you’re surprised he was patient enough to even wait this long. His hands are borderline bruising on your hips, his teeth clacking against yours as your kiss grows rougher and rougher, as your dear friend and Captain pounds into you with the fervor of an animal in heat. 

You can feel his muscles tense under your fingers as you pull him tighter. His breaths grow more ragged with every moment, and as he finally pulls away from your kiss you get to see the beautiful sight of the dam breaking as Luffy finally cums. His face is filled with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and affection as he gives a final few thrusts, your own climax coming not soon after. He collapses on top of you, and the weight is more comforting than crushing, though it steals your breath away anyway.

“I was right.” His voice is sleepy and slow, and you can’t help but picture the faces of your friends as they find you stripped bare and pinned to the deck below your Captain. Sanji might have a breakdown.

“Right about what?”

“I needed you. You fixed it.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your head affectionately, and he places a comically loud smooch on your forehead.

“So you’re all cured?”

“Ye–” He hums, and you can see an idea take him as his face scrunches up and his eyes shift away. “No. I think we’ll need to do this again.”

You can’t keep the smile out of your voice as you respond. “Oh yeah? How many more times, do you think?”

“I dunno. A lot. It could take a while.”

You laugh. “You know, I think we can do this as many times as it takes.”

He lets out an overjoyed laugh. “Awesome!”

“But first we should get inside before anyone else gets back. I don’t really want them to see me like this.”

He nods, quickly scooping you up and carrying you in the direction of his cabin. Before you can say anything else, you hear the voices of your crew coming closer, and you quietly urge him to rush.

You only get a moment of relief before you hear Zoro’s confused voice.

“Whose clothes are these?”

Your panic is quickly overshadowed by Luffy’s booming laugh rumbling through his chest, spreading the same infectious joy that he always does. The embarrassment is worth it, just to hear such a wonderful sound.

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[keferon]

*thwack*

Get his ass!

*insert about the cruel indifference of the universe vs the indomitable human spirit, idk*

————————

Prowl watched Jazz wrap his discolored torso with some sort of cloth type bandage, fascinated by the way the injury seemed to mimic the injury that Jazz’s… mech… had taken during the battle just breems before. The first time that Prowl had gotten to watch Jazz patch himself up, he had hovered worriedly and awkwardly. At the time, he had only just learned a few cycles before that his closest friend was an organic who piloted a mech-like body as a weapon, and not the mech itself.

Jazz had babbled on and on about how his mech could take serious damage and he would be fine, but sometimes the “DRIFT” connection between organic and machine meant that some wounds transferred over to the organic body. If Jazz took a blow to the helm and lost it, he wouldn’t have to worry about dying, but he would have a helm-splitting headache afterwards. Apparently, it had something to do with the cerebral connection that was needed to pilot such a large piece of machinery like it was an extension of your person. Some kind of unethical science that definitely would have had some bots going to jail if Jazz were Cybertronian. It reminded Prowl too much of Shockwave.

When the Praxian had expressed his discomfort at the slight connection he had made, Jazz had given him a small sad smile. The words that Jazz spoke in reply would probably haunt him for deca-cycles.

“When we were invaded, what was and wasn’t ethical kinda got thrown out the window. We were losin’ cities everyday, our population was dwindin’, either due to the Quints or due to civil unrest. Humans… we ‘ave short lives compared to you guys. But we love’em. Threw all our cards into one basket, and prayed. Monsters to fight Monsters was the propaganda they spread when I was growing up.”

Prowl’s optics dimmed lightly as he watched Jazz stretch upwards, pulling at the bandages and heavy bruises. The human made a slight groaning noise as bones popped from the stress. He turned to look up at Prowl, spinning a-top Prowl’s desk to give him a wide and mischievous grin. Prowl snorted faintly, watching his friend with a fondness in his EM field that he knew Jazz couldn’t feel.

“They never said anything about wha’ the Hunter Program does to the pilot. Only that when ya signed up, ya got a mech matching your specific specs and the opportunity to go slay monsters. Sometimes the mech was prebuilt, from a pilot who died and left their mech still intact, and sometimes you got your own personalized one. The mech itself though… they were never the unethical part of the program. It was all the serums and shit that they stuffed into me to ensure I’d survive the DRIFT process. I… I remember being tied down to a med-bunk and… and just flashes of horrific pain.”

Jazz walked up to Prowl, still grinning, preening almost like a turbo kitten. The Praxian laid out his servo so Jazz could crawl aboard, being mindful of his organic friend. He lifted Jazz up to his shoulder, relaxing as Jazz tucked himself in close, humming softly as he settled in the take a nap on Prowl’s shoulder. Prowl’s doorwings fluttered a bit.

“Yer not wrong. That what we did to survive was unethical, probably inhumane. But… humans… we hate losing. We do unspeakable things when given the right motivation. For some it’s love, loyalty, family, country, pride, greed. I’ve seen pilots pull themselves from their mech’s corpse, waving a gun at the jaws of a monster, whilst missing an arm and half their face. I’ve seen doctors tie down rookie pilots and pump them full of drugs and serums, watch them scream and plead for mercy, watch them die when it’s too much for their body to handle, so that pilots don’t die the minute they try to DRIFT. Yer not wrong. Humans can be vile and cruel and outright terrible, but we can also strive for peace and love and kindness. It’s that, that makes us survivors.”

Jazz’s humming fell quiet as he fell asleep against Prowl’s neck, causing the Praxian to relax slowly back into his office chair. He looked up at the data pad that Knockout had given him, containing Jazz’s full medical checkup. The list of everything in near critical condition for his species was… alarming. Jazz had said he felt fine during the checkup. Knockout’s reading said differently. Knockout’s readings said Jazz was dying. That Jazz had been dying for years.

Jazz knew he was dying and wasn’t moving to fix it. Because pilots have their life for their planet, and pilots had a set expiration date.

Jazz had accepted this date.

Prowl had never been so angry.

“An expiration date” made me silently stare into space for a while. Hoooly shit….

[biteyoubiteme]

don't you want me?

soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: don't you want your boyfriend?

warnings: 🔞!!! this is just smut no plot lol, some nipple play, soobin calls reader bunny, no protection, creampie, fingering, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.9k

an: thank you so much saturn for requesting! I hope you like this one sorry it’s short ;-; <3333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

had only been a day since the last time you had seen him, snuggled up in his bed after he had tired himself out with using you. It wasn't uncommon for him to go round after round, at least not with you. No partner had ever made him feel this needy, always hard even after one go. His whiny pleas to keep going mixed with his scrunched brow always worked to get you to agree. He was always so good at begging. 

You had planned a study date, your bag weighing down your shoulder as you knocked on his door. Sometimes you even got some studying done, only it was usually when you were in public and not plagued by the thought of his bedroom only being a foot away. Because you were also to blame for always getting him started, purposefully wearing things he couldn't keep his eyes off of, and brushing his thigh every other time you had the chance to. 

Now was no different, although it wasn't intentional, you really did think you would get some kind of studying done.Dressed down in your pajamas, oversized shirt covering your shorts enough to give soobin the illusion that you had none on in the first place. He pulls your bag from you, having enough control to place it down on the coffee table before tugging you down with him onto the couch. 

“You didn't even say hi!” you're giggling, his kisses peppering down your neck, hips pushing you into the sofa, hands pushing up your shirt. 

“Hi, hello, I'm sorry, I just missed you,” he's not even trying to hide the fact he's already hard, that he's been hard just thinking about you coming over. 

“We both have exams tomorrow,” you try to remind him, fingers brushing through his hair as his lips are finding half-faded marks he's sucked onto your skin only the day before. “We should really study,” 

“Don't you want me?” he asks, nose bumping your ear, hand sliding down the outside of your thigh. “because all I could think about was the way you felt under me,” he hooks his hand under your knee pulling your leg enough so that he can sink his hips closer to yours. “how am I supposed to pay attention to anything other than you?” 

All you can respond with is a moan when he presses his bulge against you, dragging his hips to put pressure right on your clothed clit. “please bunny, please,” 

You didn't need much begging to get stripped, even less begging when you finally felt him slip into you. His whining gasps fanning over your skin, one hand keeps him up and the other squeezes your breast, thumb running over your peaked nipple. “Look at your perfect tits, all for me,” 

He's trying to hold back, to draw out the pleasure as long as he can but it's impossible when buried in you. Warm walls sucking him in, begging for him to just pound into you, push you into the sofa, and just take over without any thoughts on his mind. He wants to, just thinking about it makes him whimper, “Tell me you missed me, didn't you miss me?” 

“Yes-” you gasp, arms wrapped around his neck, the heels of your feet digging into his ass pushing him closer to you. “I missed you so much,” 

“I missed your perfect pussy, bunny, always so ready and wet for me,” all of his rambling broken up by throaty moans, “I can't stop thinking about you, filling you up,” 

His rhythmic thrusts press so deep inside you, leaving you speechless with every drag. But he's not paying attention to getting you off just yet, his body disconnecting from his mind as he beats his hips against yours. He feels his orgasm building and knows any second he will cum. Enough to make it so easy to keep going, stuffing it all right back in, just thinking about it has him whimpering in your ear. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” you ask, his body falling closer to you, always wanting to be pressed as close as he can get when he cums.

He’s nodding into your neck, breathy whines mixing with his answer. “Yes, oh god- please,” every sloppy thrust followed by his little ah-ah’s. “You feel so good, I’m-” he feels his balls draw up, his hips stuttering to a stop as he lets out streams of cum into your waiting cunt, cock pulsing as he moans into your neck. It isn't until he pulls out and catches his breath that he realizes that you didn't finish, too caught up in chasing his own high. 

“I'm so sorry bunny, let me take care of you as good as you take care of me,” 

He gave you no time to realize the switch, his long fingers shoving into your sensitive entrance, pushing back in all his cum as he pumps in time with his previous thrusts. He uses his other hand to fiercely rub at your clit. The stimulation makes your back arch, hands scratching at the fabric of the couch. “Look at my pretty bunny,” he coos, the squelching sounds from all your slick mixing with your moans. “Are you going to cum for me?” he asks, using your own words on you. 

“Yes- yes-” It's almost too much for you, his fingers not stopping even as you cum. You're a mess of stammering words and faltering breaths, trying to find yourself as your knees try to close in around him. 

Just watching you fall apart is enough to get him semi-hard again, ready for another round. He slathers his wet fingers over your entrance, keeping as much wetness as possible from sliding out. “Just one more please-” 

“Soobin our exams-” 

“Please, I'll be quick, don't you want me?” 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! and thank you to @hyukascampfire for being the sweetest angel who ever lived, personally taking the time to read this for me ily. 🤍

[kamechan98]

Nah, it's cool, I understand

And yeah, the Anti-Blitz party may be something of a start with some of the people there. I'm of the opinion that some people are likely there for the party itself and that Blitz can't have emotionally screwed over that many people. Like, Dennis? They met for a few hours at Bee's party months ago, how is he THAT upset about it he needs to go to an Anti-Blitz party? Even for Blitz that's a bit much. But I also agree that it may not be the best option, as a friendship/relationship that is built on hating one person is not likely to last or be very good. If all you have in common is hating one specific person, what else is there to build on? Maybe some people there have built solid relationships while meeting at those parties, there did seem to be a quite a few couples and friends there, so who knows? Maybe there is a form of community and friendship between these people, finding comfort and support from each other after their heartbreak while also learning to move on and find love and joy again.

But I agree it's not what Stolas really needs, to have all of the good things he knows and feel about Blitz being disregared and blame everything on Blitz, twisting it around to make him the bad guy in every aspect of his life when that isn't true. We've seen that Stolas is trying to reflect and see where HE made the wrong step in their relationship, what he can learn from the whole thing and how he can do better in the future, which Verosika keeps trying to shut down.

"But maybe it's all on me For missin' every sign and every glance And every turn" "Maybe there's somethin' here for us to glean For you to teach, and me to try to learn"

"What if I came on too strong? What if I read this all wrong? What if we just don't belong?"

Stolas, while a bit delulu at times, a hopeless romantic and not anywhere near as self-aware as he needs to be, does recognise on some level that the reason their relationship turned out the way it did isn't all Blitz' fault and the fact that he keeps trying to reflect and and go over what happened between them despite his hurt feelings, broken heart is a good thing- both for the sake of their relationship in the future and for his own development. Yeah he's trying to cover it up a bit, turning a bit petty and spiteful towards Blitz for even going to the party (maybe he wouldn't have gone if Blitz hadn't shown up at his place, wanting to be a little petty towards him) but as soon as he's there he recognises how petty, stupid and ridiculous the whole affair is, throwing an entire party every year just to hate on Blitz, and is even able to recognise this while drunk of his ass.

Our Owl Boy is a bit delulu, but not THAT delulu.

But it is as you say, Stolas is a People Please of the highest order and is only now starting to learn to stand up for himself and focus on his own wants and needs rather than bending over backwards to please others around him while suffering in silence. And spending too much time around people who don't encourage that kind of reflection and accountability would be a step backwards for him. It'd be enabling his worst habits and maybe make him regress in his growth, which is the last thing anyone needs.

Whether Stolas and Blitz end the season as friends who need to work on themselves before they get together or as a tentative couple who want to try again, do it right this time while also getting to know each other properly (last bit will probably happen regardless, but you know what I mean) I am under no delusion that they won't end up together at some point in the future. But I want to see Stolas find an identity outside of liking Blitz. As much as I love him, and I do, that's pretty much been his character for a while now. Yeah, he was Octavia but we haven't been allowed to see much of their relationship, which we know is going to have consequences of some kind before the season is over. I recognise that Blitz is the main character and is likely to be the most complex and developed character, but that doesn't mean others can't have more to them than basic interests, quirks and be defined by their role in Blitz' life. We've seen some of it with Moxxie and Millie, would love more of it, as well as seeing some development and growth for Loona, Millie (as her own person not her relationship to Moxxie or Blitz) and I think Stolas would need it too.

Maybe he and Asmodeus will become better friends? Fizz? M&M, Loona might be set up to become better friends with him as well? Maybe Vassago will be one of few Goetia who actually care about him and want him to be okay? I don't know, we'll have to wait and see.

Stolas has always been "Single"...

One thing I've noticed people say that genuinely disturb me is when they think Stolas should learn how to be single...

Guys, Stolas has been "single" his entire fucking life.

On paper, he may have been "married".

But Stolas was married to a partner that treated him like shit, and forced him to live a life constrained from being his gay ass self.

People are treating the relationship he had with Blitz as them being in an actual romantic relationship, but as Blitz stated...

To Blitz, he and Stolas were never in an actual romantic relationship because let's face it, it's true.

Blitz simply operated under the terms that Stolas had set for them in their full moon romps.

Remember guys....

This man is an emotionally-inept dumbass, who automatically assumes the worse. Of course, he's not going to see any of Stolas’s invites as anything other than Stolas just wanting him for his body.

Is it right? No, of course not.

But this is Blitz, and I'm not expecting a man who has been suppressing every single major emotion and traumatic event in his life for 15 years (prior to GF) to pick up any of the hints Stolas was dropping. He's a dumbass.

So yes, Stolas has never been in an actual relationship, and I don't think he needs to learn how to be "single" when he's been single his entire fucking life.

The man doesn't need to learn to be happy alone when he's always been alone!

"You wanna know what I want? I want to know what it's like, to not be alone. I want to be someone's someone. I want to feel wanted. But like, in a romantic way, like I'm standing out in the rain at a train station and someone is shouting: “Harriet! Don’t get on that train, it’s going to London and I cannot be without you!”"

"I just... want someone to care if I stay or go. I want someone to want... me! To want to see me. To hold me. To look at me and think "You're the only one I want!" [sheds tears] "I desire to hold you and talk to you, and never let you feel so...""

So yeah, I really don't think Stolas needs to learn to be happy alone. He knows what it's like to be alone, he's always been alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

And you know what I want?

Maybe I just want, this sad gay 🦉 to give this equally as sad and lonely pan 🦎 another chance...

Because, you know, even though he's an emotionally-inept dumbass and a motherfucker...

He's charismatic and charming...

He's good at fighting...

He's protective...

He knows how to have fun...

He's got the most beautiful smile...

He's hot as fuck...

And I also heard...

He's got a pretty cool family.

[carto0ncritter]

People are so desperate for LGBT representation, (specifically gay and lesbian couples), that they're willing to accept literally any homosexual ship regardless of the concerning elements.

Let's see, we have ass ships like

1)Stolitz - Stolas is an abuser, a r*pist, a racist man who has so many powers yet is emotionally fragile, passive and wimpy, a man who victimizes himself over and over, a man who emotionally neglects the child who desperately needs him for his sexual fantasies with his victim, a man who is the creator's pet, a man whose actions aren't wrong according to the writers, a man who can just blame everyone else around him but himself with no consequences

2) Catradora - Catra is an abuser too, but was treated like a cute kitty cat in s5 despite having done atrocious things, she was instantly forgiven with no consequences, and she ended up dating her sister and the biggest victim of her abuse

3) Huskerdust - I haven't talked about this one so far, but Angel sexually harassed Husk and never apologized, Husk himself sang "Loser, Baby" and as a SA survivor I felt like he was trying to say this to Angel: "Oh, you've hit rock bottom because of SA? It's your fault lol, accept that you're a whiny bitch and a loser even tho the problem is extremely serious and out of your control and just suck it up, I'm a loser too despite not going through the same thing you have, you're not alone in being a loser BUT YOU ARE STILL A LOSER BABYYY A LOOOSER" Like, ik the message was supposed to be how we're not alone in our struggles and how there's always someone who will understand and make us feel less alone, but the way this was handled rubbed me the wrong way. Also, I'm not sure whether or not to mention this as well (screw it, I will), but Husk is described as "the old bartender," his voice sounds like it belongs to an old dude too, and he apparently died when he was like, 70, while Angel died in his 30's. I'm not gonna calculate their ages based on how it works in Hell because personally I feel like it doesn't matter. What matters is how old they were when they were alive. But however you decide to look at their ages, it's not just the implied enormous age gap that bothers me, no... it's more so the difference in maturity between Husk and Angel. Husk is described as a dude who has seen and experienced a lot of stuff. On the other hand, Angel is clearly immature and there is this weird... emotional imbalance between them? It's like a mentor dating his apprentice, at least that's how I see it. I'm not saying dating someone who's 40 years older than you is morally wrong (if you're both adults) but IT IS WEIRD imo, especially since Angel & Husk are not on the same page when it comes to life experience and maturity. Oh yeah, I also don't think Angel should be in any kind of romantic relationship... for his own good

[propertyofwhitney67]

How would the LIs be like as the PCs older brothers? Can be beyond familial iykwim 👀

(ps your big brother whitney content fed me GOOD)

hehe yes, I live for big bro Whitney

Whitney is a shitty brother, always shitting on you and fucking with you. But he will beat the shit out of anybody that treats you like that. He also scares off any would be suitors bc he's a selfish bastard.

Kylar....he's the fucking worst. He's so fucking in love with you and 100% believes he has to marry you and have kids with you. Everyone steers clear of you for one being Kylars sister and two bc that freak will attack them. You have to sleep in the same room, in the same bed. He can't sleep without being inside you and you will wake up in the middle of the night to him fucking you.

Robin refuses to acknowledge the feelings he has, he ignores them and tries to move on. He tries to have normal relationships but it just doesn't feel right, he can't help but think of you. He wants to be a good older brother, he is a good older brother, but he knows these feelings are wrong and it eats away at him.

P!Sydney is honestly one of the best big brothers. He always wants to help you and keep you safe. He has weird feelings for you that he doesn't understand, ones that he's scared to ask about. He tries to pray it away but we all know that doesn't fucking work. One day he will break and act on these feelings, think prayer room.

C!Sydney is also the worst. He's still a good brother and does his best to keep you safe but he knows what these feelings are and he acts on them. He will terrorize you a bit and say that what you feel for him is a sin then when you're upset he says that you can sin together. He loves to keep his hands on you. He wants you in the library with him so he can fuck you any chance he gets, among other things.

Alex is always protecting you and making sure you're ok. He beats off any would be suitors, knowing they aren't good enough for you, well that's what he says. He understands these feelings but knows this isn't exactly right, despite that he still tries to be close to you, more than a sibling should.

Avery is an entitled ass motherfucker that doesn't give a fuck about helping you or making sure you're ok. That doesn't mean he won't take some form of ownership over you. He knows what these feelings are and he will act on them.

Eden is kind of an amazing big brother till he forces you to come to the woods with him. It's there where he acts on the feelings he's always had for you. It's there where you basically become his housewife/husband.

[bengiyo]

Your Sky: It Seems I Wanted a 2gether Retread

I watched this on a whim yesterday evening and enjoyed it immensely. Not to be the Boss Baby tweet, but I enjoyed how this show set up some of the same parameters as 2gether without making key characters unlikable, or relying on mean humor.

Right off the bat they calibrated the Teerak character well. He's essentially an adorable younger brother all the time. He's clearly coddled, and requires a lot of supervision. However, they made sure to confirm that he's actually an extremely kind character, and that most of his adventures result from him maybe going too far to complete an act of kindness. This character has real potential to be annoying, and they're doing a great job with the line.

Additionally, they've given Teerak a great supporting cast around him. I liked the teamwork dynamics between Lee, Joy, and Type. I liked seeing them fulfill different roles in the group, and I'm excited to get to know them more. Teerak's relationship with Babe is also compelling; I'm excited to see what we get from a caring big sister. I especially loved their meeting the laundromat owner. I hope we see more of her, and that they continue the trend of introducing every new character with a beauty zoom.

Thomas Teetut is also doing a great job with Muenfah. He's playing this character so differently from Gun in The Middleman's Love that I didn't even recognize him right away.

Unlike with Sarawat (2gether), they didn't withhold this character's affection for Teerak for multiple episodes. Like Sarawat, they've gone for cool, aloof, and disinterested in women. I'm curious to learn how long he's had this crush, why he hasn't said anything about it, and why his brother (Lee) is keeping the confidence about it.

I also want to know whose ass he kicked years ago that created this reputation about him being leader of a gang. It's intriguing because we watched multiple people running interference on Oh's pursuit of Teerak. I was wondering at first if Teerak needed to properly reject this man, but based on Oh stealing the outdoor reservation at this restaurant, drugging Teerak's friends, and trying to fight Muenfah, I really don't like this man. They did a great job building to the reveal that Oh ain't shit. They made me feel bad for a Mike character at first, and then validated why I instinctively do not like that man's characters.

I really like the impetus for the fake dating in this one. I like that Muenfah pulled Teerak out of a dangerous situation, and also that a drunk Teerak created a major misunderstanding online from people stalking (please stop filming people in public). It's so much better than we know Muenfah has feelings for Teerak already, and has been protective of him. I'm excited to see how Teerak grows into a shared affection, and how the veneer of fake dating complicates the development of their feelings.

Also, this show is beautiful. Sarawut Chuparkpanich shows always look great. However, every single person linked on the crew has been part of projects that I think showed real potential before flopping badly before even the midpoint. I don't want to get my hopes up too much because of the track record, but damn did I really like this first episode. This is the most engaged with initial characterization I've been with a Thai BL in months, so I hope this one works out. I am still fond of 2gether, despite the missteps of that show, so I'd like to have a better version of it.

I'll pick this up as a regular watch and check in after a few weeks to let you know how I'm feeling about it. Thank you to the gifmakers!

[newkatzkafe2023]

The monkey Kings reaction to meeting teen Titans nya nya reader. Human turning into pink tigeress demon. Good combat skills

(Not sure if you know who I'm talking about 😅)

Ohhhhhhhhhh I remember that Girl, she kicked beast boys butt🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

(Lmk Wukong) Man you were so cute and unsuspecting can you imagine the shock he felt when he saw your demon form. He met you at a karaoke bar Mk invited him too as he just watched him and Mei have fun, until he noticed a small stare. He looked over to see you giggling making him blush and you came over to talk to him and you both hit it off. After dating for a over a year You trusted him enough to show him your full demon form, which was of course a monkey cat hybrid. What you didn't expect was for him to Squeal so hard he fall over, due to how adorable you are, at least you don't freak him out😅🤣

(NR Wukong) This dude was definitely flirting with you, when you both met. He purred and gave you all kinds of nicknames the one standing out most of all was Kitten, he met you when Li and Su had dragged him to a karaoke bar downtown donghai. You were on stage singing to a crowd already dancing like a cat, making him cat call you from across the bar. You giggled and finished your song, now found yourself being wooed by an older monkey man. It wasn't until a few months of dating was when he found out about your actual Kitty form, you wasted know time beating up those guys whom tried to mug you. Well let's just say your new name is now curvy kitty 😉😉😉

(HIB Wukong) Oh yeah he's absolutely baffled by this discovery especially when you were a surprisely good fighter. He was not at all expecting you to keep up with him in a fight, it was a interesting experience. You both met at a tea shop where he was buying stuff for the children when you came up and talked to him. Wukong sighed as he just listened to you, already getting use to getting that from Luier But it was because of your boldness that you both were close. It was until one day you went to see him and saw he was getting attacked by some demons by his house, your feline form was show as you shredded though those guys like tissue paper. At the end Wukong was both impressed and getting smothered with affection now.

(MKR Wukong) Did not like you at all at first, especially with the unsuspecting ass whooping he and pigsy got from you. It was all pigsy's fault too!!!! you were a young woman doing her shopping and Pigsy would not go away, so you turned and insult pigsy telling him you wouldn't date a lard tub of lard which made Wukong get pissed because only he can insult pigsy. The exchange quickly got heated by no time and Wukong was getting sick of the bull and was ready to fight you more, but you changed into your cat form and beat up both of them in Broad daylight. since then Wukong hasn't stopped following you, both demanding for a rematch and a date🤣😤

(Netflix Wukong) YOU ARE SOOOOO CUTE HE COULD DIE SOMEHOW 🤩🥰. His favorite thing about you are you ear and he just loves to pet and scratche behind them. Your cat demon for was beautiful, soft and adorable and he loves more then ever when you bring it out. He also loves to have sparring sessions with you as a date and for you both to train together. He also loves to cuddle you despite the ink marks you would rarely leave.

(BMW Wukong) He was admittedly impressed and surprised by your true beauty he'll give you that, but I feel he would underestimate you.he would tease you with cat toys, red dots and tuna. the final straw being when he gave you a bag of catnip you got so angry he got to see your full, curvy, fierce demon form before you gave his ass a black Bruise for each eye. Ever since then he got right away of flirting and trying to court you, after being used as your Scratching post.

(Destined one) He discovers something new everyday especially when he discovered you, you were super cute and knew how to fight people on sight with those beautiful sharp claws. The Destined one was definitely blushing whenever you would kiss and lick his face trying to groom and clean him. The Destined one would also be mortified but also kinda impressed That you were able to single handily take him down. He would love to discover more about you though your dates🥰

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐈

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Imagine being kidnapped by Tom Ludlow.

Hi anon. This got out of hand. I’m sorry. CW: mentions of child abuse/dark humor concerning it, rape/noncon fantasies and details. I write from a place of my own trauma, and it gets a little fucked up. If you don’t like dark fics, or are triggered easily, DO NOT READ THIS. Violence, bad cops, SA. Tom Ludlow is not the bad guy in this, though.

If you’re a big girl, a tall girl, a girl with a lot of muscle or fat, you probably haven’t been picked up off the ground since you were very young.

You question your femininity because of it, along with a whole lot of other shit that society decides to push on you for not having a traditional feminine figure…whatever the hell that is.

You often take on a more protective, mothering or masculine roll with your smaller or daintier or gentler friends. You don’t look down on them at all—or envy them too often. Some people just carry a unique tenderness that you wish the world had more of. But every little rainbow or sunbeam needs their strong protective cloud, and you mostly gladly, sometimes reluctantly take on this role.

You will never be a meek, kind, delicate person. It’s just not going to happen. You don’t want it to happen. You’re pretty comfortable with your role in life. It’s just…sometimes…and this is probably something that everyone craves in vulnerable moments…you want to be the one getting protected.

It’s just kind of exhausting, always being there for everyone else. As much as you love it, and you do, it can also really drain you.

The duality of man is that we can be more than one type of person, and want different things. You know this. But…it’s hard as hell to admit you want to be taken care of. Because doesn’t that ruin your tough facade? Your strength and independence? Doesn’t that let everyone know that you’re just putting on an act to cover up who you really are—a weak, sniveling girl?

That’s why you bottle up, keep things to yourself, regard the world cynically and humorously with a lazy shrug of your shoulder. You act like nothing gets to you, like you are a stoic guard at the queen’s gate, like a big mastiff on patrol of your sheep.

When you do wear an emotion, more often than not it’s either sarcasm or…anger. Like tonight, when some guy won’t leave your friend alone at the bar.

She’s visibly uncomfortable and attempting escape from the creep following her around. She’s too nice to tell him to go away, but you’re not, and you have had to put yourself between them way, way too many times.

“She’s not interested,” you tell him.

He sneers at you. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Except he fucking doesn’t, because ten seconds later he’s smacking her ass when she stands up, and you’re punching him in the mouth.

He hits you back, and it feels like a slap from a two year old, but it startles your fight or flight, and before you know it, your vision is blurry with rage and your fists are flying.

The security guards have to pull you off of one another and haul you outside to where the police are waiting with cuffs.

“He was harassing my friend,” you tell the guy who’s chaperoning you.

“Her ugly ass is just jealous cuz nobody wants her!” Screams scumbag from down the sidewalk.

Wow, you’ve never heard that one before.

One of the cops grabs him by the collar and says something that appears to be stern with his finger pointed at his face.

The guy looks visibly shaken after that, and he specifically avoids looking in your direction again.

The ballsy officer, probably in some sort of supervising position by the looks of it, gets to you next, and you have to crane your neck up to look at him.

You expect anger, but his face is neutral as he pulls a pen and paper from his utility belt. “Hello, ma’am, my name is officer Ludlow with the LAPD. You mind telling me what went on here tonight?”

You tick through the list of events as best you can, trying not to paint yourself as innocent (because with the way you beat on him, you’re definitely not), but making sure he knows what a fucking reprobate you were up against, and he scribbles it all down diligently.

After you’re done, he flicks his chin at the officer standing next to you. “Reed, let her go.”

They uncuff you, and you roll your arms, testing the circulation and rubbing out the raw red marks on your wrists. “Thanks,” you tell the lead officer. “You mind if I go back in and get my friends? There’s only three of us and I’m worried about them…”

“I can’t let you go back in,” officer Ludlow says, “but give us their names and descriptions, and I’ll send Reed in for them, alright?”

You nod, comply, and a few tense moments later Abby is running out to wrap her arms around your shoulders, smearing her glittery tears and pink blush on your jacket.

You hug her back, picking her up a little bit off the ground with the ferocity of your relief, and look at officer Ludlow over her head. “Thanks,” you tell him.

Tye, arriving from the thicket of people at the entrance a few moments later, immediately wants to know what happened.

She, however, is interrupted, by the asshole down the sidewalk, still in cuffs. “Hope you think of me when you see that handprint on your cute little ass tomorrow!” He calls, and Abby turns away, choking on a sob.

You’ve always had anger issues. Usually, in adulthood, they’re pretty easy to tame down. Not in this circumstance, not when you see Abby shaking and crying, looking as defenseless as a baby mouse.

Unbeknownst to you, because your sight and sound have been marginally narrowed to one person who needs his face bludgeoned in so hard that he finally shuts the fuck up, the head officer has already signaled for them to haul this guy into the back of a police car.

You’re not sure how you cross the distance between you and him so fast—you’re built for endurance, not speed—but suddenly your fists are connecting with his flesh again, and there’s a lot of yelling and pulling and finally your feet leave the ground and your knuckles leave his face.

It takes you a minute to realize you are being carried away—that your feet are not on land—and you look up at the person whose arms are currently wrapped around you.

Like mentioned before, it’s been a long, long time since someone has picked you up and you’ve lost your center of gravity so quickly and so thoroughly. Like a startled animal, you fight to try and get back to the ground, more out of shock and adrenalized fear than anything.

You don’t mean to scratch or bite the nice officer, you really don’t.

Ludlow just sighs at your resistance, like he could be doing something much more important right now rather than manhandling you into the back of a squad car like you’re an ornery kitten rather than a formidable opponent.

You are silenced into shock the whole way to the police station.

They put you in the waiting room sans cuffs, and you’re not sure how much time passes until a heavy presence plops down on the plastic chair next to you.

“Fuck,” is the first thing you say to Ludlow. “My friends…”

“They’re safe. I’m giving them an escort back home.”

He gives you some room temp water, and after the fear wears off, grants you enough time to come back to your good senses. You look at him sheepishly, with your head tucked down. “Sorry, he was a fucking creep.”

Ludlow nods. “I get it, hopefully I can get you out of it with a slap on the wrist.” He hands you some tissues from his breast pocket. “Wipe that blood off your face.”

You didn’t realize you were bleeding, so it’s a shock to finally feel the ache of a bloody lip and bruised cheek and see the paper come back crimson streaked.

After a few long moments of silence, you say, “I feel like an asshole.”

He shrugs, leans back, grins over at you. You fight the urge to flush at his crooked smile. He’s a handsome man. Sometimes you like those. “Asshole, no. Dumb, maybe. He could have really fucked you up.”

“I handled myself just fine.”

“Your split lip will disagree tomorrow morning. Lemme see.” He holds out his hand, as if for you to rest your chin in, and you’re not sure what brain malfunction gets you to comply. You are not a good listener by any means, especially for men in positions of authority or power.

Maybe it’s sexist, maybe it’s unfair. Spend your whole childhood getting the shit taken out of you by a man that’s supposed to love and care for and protect you, and then decide what’s fair and what’s not.

He whistles low, turning you this way and that with a tenderness you don’t expect from calloused, bear paw hands with knuckles like golf balls. “I’ll give it to you, you’ve got balls. Bigger than most men I’ve met.”

Your mouth betrays your tough girl facade, and lets a tiny smile hike up the edge despite the stinging pain that follows.

Officer Ludlow gets you out with a slap on the wrist—aka a misdemeanor—just like he said he was going to. You tell him thank you about ten million times for saving your ass, and for offering to give you a ride back to the bar to get your car.

“I’ve already put you out too much tonight,” you tell him. “I’ll get a Taxi or something.”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he says, jangling the keys in his beater pocket. “By the time you get to the bar, you’re gonna be towed. C’mon.”

You open the back door of his charger, but he shakes his head and, instead, opens up his passenger seat for you to slide in.

It’s about now you’re starting to get a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, like something is off about this interaction. You’re not one to trust easily, and getting in the car with a complete stranger, although one in uniform, is out of character to say the least.

Your radar has really been fucked up tonight. By the alcohol, the scumbag, the being arrested, the bruising and tearing of your knuckles. What a way to end it, you think, if Ludlow is a bad guy.

The funny feeling in your guts that you decide to ignore this one time? It turns out to be right. And as Tom Ludlow starts driving up through the deserted hills, in the opposite direction of the bar your car is at, you almost want to burst out laughing at how stupid you are.

Asshole, no. Dumb? Fucking definitely.

You test his door handle and he snorts at you; like he’s saying, you think I’m that stupid?

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” you grumble, sizing him up from the corner of your eye, deciding whether to fight or flight or just give up now. He’s thin, but he’s broad. Tall. Not lanky. He won’t be easy to push over. You’ll have to bite, claw eyes out, rip his hair from his head. Make sure he doesn’t pull that shiny pistol out of his belt before you can jump on him.

You could do it right here in the car and risk barreling over the steep hillside on your right. You could—

“Hey,” he says, calmly, capturing you too easily from your violent thoughts, “it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

A part of you wants to believe him, or maybe just believe there’s still some good in the world—some good in men. Hell, maybe leprechauns exist, too. You never know.

He looks sideways at you when you giggle in response to these reassuring words, as if you’re the one who’s fucking psycho. “I’ve heard that one before.”

He makes a pensive sound, air puffing from his nostrils, switches gears as the incline increases. “Daddy beat you up?”

Well, fuck it, might as well share all your sob stories if this is really happening tonight. “Uncle, actually.”

“Sorry,” he says, and you hazard a glance over to see if his face matches his empathetic tone—it, surprisingly, does. “He still alive?”

“No.”

You must be violently shaking to compensate for the repression of a panic attack, because his still, steady hand on your shoulder pauses the tremors. “It’s okay,” he assures, like he’s trying to soothe a crying kid. You have to admit, his voice is a cool ointment for hot nerves, even if he’s the reason for them in the first place.

The brain has a funny way of dealing with things like this. There’s about a 30% chance his intentions are raping you, because with his looks he could get any lady in the city of lights for free, but rapists and molesters rarely think about physical attractiveness when it actually comes down to the act. Psychologists say it’s more about the power trip for them. And, at least, if he is going to fuck you, he’s not exactly the worst man that you could pick to do it.

At least he’s hot, is what it boils down to. Because you’re a disgusting degenerate. Because your coping skills are a ticking time bomb, a broken record, stuck back at the part of your life where you had to start liking the way uncle Eddy touched you to deal with the shame and the despair of it.

Officer Ludlow’s gonna pick you right up off the ground again, slam you into his backseat, tug your pants and underwear down in one go. He’ll make you beg him to fuck your pussy instead of your unprepared and untainted ass, use his spit as lube, rub his meaty fingers over your puffy lips and taunt you when his saliva encounters your slippery cum. He’ll smack your ass for liking this, leave big red handprints, whisper in your ear that you’re gonna remember him, not just tomorrow, but for weeks after he gets done working your cunt. That he should kill you and leave your body out for the flies, but he wants you to live just so you can feel the way he destroyed your pussy.

The charger slows to a halt out in the sticks, and you have no idea where the fuck you are or how long you’ve been driving. The night is thick black soup in a boiling pot, and his headlights cut through it meagerly. It’s enough light to see what’s happening ahead, though, and when you look over at him curiously, he is grinning at you.

The man from the bar who assaulted your friend is in cuffs, an officer on each arm holding him in place. You don’t feel bad at all when you notice his swollen lip and purple temple, but you do wish you would have gotten more hits in.

Lucky for you, Officer Ludlow has you covered.

“Do you want to hit him?” He asks, unclipping his seat belt. “Or do you wanna watch?”

You blink a few times in response, not sure what to say to this brutally kind gesture. This man who barely knows you is helping you exact revenge against his own brethren. You’ve never been so…flattered.

“Don’t tell me you’re attempting to grow a conscience?” He teases.

“I wanna hit him.”

To your disappointment, Ludlow is not a total savage. He lets you get 3 or 4—it’s hard to remember the exact number—good hits on this dirtbag, and even wraps your knuckles up in a cushiony flannel from his back seat beforehand. His only rule is, “stay away from his ugly ass face. I don’t need him coming back to the station more fucked up than it already is.”

You get him in the stomach, the ribs, kick him so hard in his dick that you feel the hard pelvic bone underneath. Maybe it’s only a couple hits, but you make them count. And when you start to ache, or get tired, all you have to do is remember the tears smearing Abbie’s pretty glitter eyeliner down her face.

If he does say anything to you, you don’t hear it. Or maybe he really doesn’t, because Ludlow stands behind you like a watchful wolfhound the entire time, and then escorts you back to his car with a heavy arm over your shaking shoulders.

“Good job,” he praises, seeming very amused and unaffected by this whole ordeal while you are trembling, soaked with sweat, panting like a hooker in a fur coat. “It’s alright, he had it coming. Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

You do as he says, momentarily escaping your fury in favor of his calming voice and soft black eyes.

“You did amazing. Lemme see the knuckles.”

He takes your hand in his, and you notice the size difference first, and then the warm, damp, pleasant heat second.

There’s been a lot of firsts tonight: someone’s hands being larger than your own (big lady hands should’ve been your nickname in highschool), being picked up off the ground past the age of 7, a man going out of his way to do something nice for you—because your brain decides that’s how it’s going to frame this scenario whether you like it or not, as some fucked up little date on Tom Ludlow’s dime.

You feel safe with your hand tucked into his and the heat of his skin and the cozy intimacy of being belted into his vehicle. You feel grateful that good men still exist. You feel…tight, twisted up in some deprived box of longing you’ve made permanent home in.

You leave the sanctuary of your comfort zone, and have another first, as you cross his center console and kiss a man on his mouth.

For a moment where you feel like your heart is suspended on the edge of a very tall cliff, he freezes. This stiff resistance immediately makes you want to pull away, but, before you can, he wraps his hand around your chin and pulls you deep into his mouth.

Arthur from college, Monica from New Orleans…Hell, even Uncle Eddie—they have nothing on Officer Tom Ludlow with his big, slick tongue and muscular lips.

It’s so good you can almost ignore the fresh sting of your split lip.

He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, and murmurs a laugh when you give him a low groan for the effort, then takes your angry little grumble and dampens it with his renewed fervor. His hands remain gentle and chaste on your face, your neck, your shoulders, even though there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he devours your mouth. He does not push for more, does not hold you down with those big hands that absolutely could if they wanted to.

You set the pace, you pull him closer, you push him back when you need to gasp for air.

He licks the taste of you from his tilted, beautiful lips. “You have to breathe through your nose, honey.”

“Sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over yourself, pressing back against the door, away from him.

His lazy smile droops. “Are you alright?”

”I just…Can you take me to my car? If not I can—“

The thick start of his engine cuts you off.

The car ride back is silent. You think about turning on the radio a few times, but don’t want to cross more boundaries than you already have. Luckily, he flips it on for the both of you and you’ve never, ever been so happy to hear Metallica.

When he parks, cutting the engine off in the nearly deserted garage, the tension between you immediately peaks, sizzling like vinegar on baking soda. He wraps a long limb over the back of your seat, looks confused—vulnerable for such a big, scary man, and he makes your heart twang a lonely cord.

He seems almost boyish, when he asks if he can take you out sometime.

And you want to say yes. Every feral primordial part of you does, anyway. But then there’s the rational part, the one that should and does win most of the time. You’ve already snubbed that part too much tonight, so you politely decline Ludlow’s offer, and with your traitorous heart padlocked and chained back into your breast cavity, you say goodbye to the nice officer.

[bellowsmith]

List of things I'd find compelling in Tarn fics and have 0 time to write.

1. Religious mania, this mf has been high off his ass on every single substance and indoctrinated in a war cult from hell for 4 million years. Bro is having more visions than the goddamn oracle of Delphi at this rate. I think the implicit slow burn horror of realizing how fucked up he is either from his point of view or from another character's would be so goddamn interesting.

2. I just think the DJD being lost in deep space by themselves and forced to escape from some eldritch monstrosity that's beyond mortal comprehension a la annihilation style would be so interesting. Like how does a man who's already got a loose grip on reality with vocal weaponry gonna handle space cthulu?? How's a gaggle of space murder hobos gonna handle a prometheus/alien type of monster invasion? Bonus points for maximum body horror.

3. The implicit message that is Tarn being obsessed with classical music and perhaps able to play it, but never being able to write his own until something breaks him away from Megatron. Maybe he gets into new kinds of media, I feel like once he opens up his horizons he seems like a punk music scene kinda guy.

4. TAKE AWAY HIS T COGS AND DRUGS. I'm serious, put this man in critical condition and going through extreme withdrawals and see what happens when he is no longer capable of having his vices. Does he experience an epiphany? Does he realize how pathetic he is and do something about it? What's the DJD think about it? How does his personality change?

5. I just wanna watch him and starscream stab Megatron to death while holding hands. They've been through 4 million years of absolute shit while both thinking the other one is the "other woman". I just think they should be allowed to make each other worse and also hold hands about it. What better partner for a man seeking global domination than the most loyal bodyguard ever built?

That's the main gist of it for now. I have a master list of things that fascinate me about gods stupidest war criminal, but I don't feel like typing them all up right now. Perhaps I'll make a second post idk. Feel free to use these as you will, just let me read the damn thing.

[caustinen]

Callum's LV campaign is sooo #hollywood au coded!

I know Gale is too shy but arghghgh can you imagine them in a brand campaign? Or Vogue photoshoot? Dayum.

oh oh oh how i’ve missed this au, thank you for this!!!! since i already headcanoned gale would feel to awkward posing i’ll let everyone decide for themselves if this is au of an au or did john manage to talk him into it after they did their private photoshoot 🤭

we’re trying another social media au today!! idk if it works in this format but i hope you enjoy <3

@_vogue_

EXCLUSIVE: ”He keeps me wanting to be better, as a human and as an actor” — Be the first two see new exclusive pictures of John Egan and husband Gale Cleven-Egan posing for this month’s #VOGUE cover shoot in brand new Louis Vuitton! ❤️‍🔥

Comments

@_hollyB34: sigh since vogue didn’t bother with alt texts i’ve got you covered (but we expect more from you @_vogue_ get your shit together)

photo 1: john leaning at a wall in white coat facing the camera, gale is on his right as if walking away but they’re holding hands

photo 2: picture taken from the side, gale leaning against the wall with right hand on the elbow of the left one and looking away from the camera, john has his right hand on the wall next to his head and he’s staring down at him kind of towering over him crowding him into the wall

photo 3: close up of their hands holding the same louis vuitton bag, john’s fingers looking much bigger than gale’s delicate hand, two of john’s fingers streches to cover gale’s

photo 4: standing side by side, john’s arm around gale’s shoulders and gale is holding that hand with one of his and the other is wrapped around john’s middle, they’re looking at each other.

photo 5: close-up of just their faces, gale is holding the back of his hand to his lips and covering laughing, john is staring at him with the worst case of heart eyes you’ve ever seen, he’s also smirking

photo 6: john staring at the camera, hands on gale’s waist, gale’s back is facing the camera and he’s leaned into john’s torso, cheek resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his middle. Keep reading…

@_clegan4ever: did i die. is this heaven.

@_rosiecheeks: if someone told me a year ago clegan would actually drop this kind of blessing upon us i would’ve laughed them out ALAS HERE WE ARE HOW ARE WE FEELING

@_egansgrl: why does that bag photo look POSESSIVE it’s literally just hands asdf like chill man ain’t no one taking him away from you

@_adamadam: it’s literally insane how the two most attractive people in the world found each other??? and actually seem like a good match???

@—keirak77: no offense to egan but damn his hubby should be a model fr

@_€urovizion: gale would literally tower over me HOW DOES HE LOOK SO TINY NEXT TO HIM john do be built like a brick house

@_cleganists: i want to cry the fact that they’re willing to share this with us despite of everything they’ve been through with the media over the years :((((

@_buckholic: THANK HEAVENS THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING THESE TWO MEN

@_ourbaby82: john is serving so hard i’m amazed the camera didn’t just melt

@_CLEGANUPDATES: #clegan has been trending worldwide for 6 hours

@_marymecurtb: so much to unpack here but like the sexiest part of this is literally the way they look at each other. like how are you together for like a decade and still be this down bad for each other omg

@_misscleven: i wouldn’t mind being squished in the middle of this sandwitch

@_johnegans: oh damn that gale cleven-egan truly is the finest piece of ass i ever saw on a cover of a magazine that john egan is one lucky bastard

@_CLEGANUPDATES: ASDFHAFAHAJAVAJSK JOHN LMAO

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

”John?” ”Yes, dear?”

John doesn’t look up from his phone from where he’s half laying across their bed waiting for Gale to be ready. They’re seeing Sabrina for her LA show tonight, and Gale has helped him with the glitter on his face before disappearig back to the bathroom to get ready himself.

Gale’s tone is filled with suspicion but not accusing — yet. ”Do you happen to know why John Brady has called me 12 times?” John makes an exaggerated ”thinking face”, and he can practically feel Gale squint his eyes at him. ”…No idea. You’ve been friends with him longer, your guess is better than mine!” Gale looks at him for a moment more before talking again.

”Mm-hm. Somehow I get the feeling he’s calling not as my friend but as your publicist.”

John finally looks up and he can’t help but let his face fall into a smirk as he sees Gale assessing at him with his eyes. He gets up from the bed and walks up to his husband who’s still following him with his eyes. ”Who knows? Probably phoning to congratulate us on a beautiful photoshoot.”

He delights in the blush on Gale’s cheeks, visible even underneath the glitter hearts. He looks adorable, and delicious, and John can’t wait to see his current favorite popstar but he also can’t wait to get back home with his hubby and try whatever position she suggests during Juno with him.

”Oh yeah, that came out today…” Gale mutters and looks down, and while the blush truly is so cute, John knows they need to get going soon. He tilts Gale’s face back up by his chin and pecks on his lips gently.

”They love it. They love you.” He considers it for a moment, getting lost in Gale’s eyes, before smirking again dropping his hand to squeeze his ass. ”I think I even recall someone calling you the hottest piece of ass they’ve ever seen on the comments.”

Gale rolls his eyes. ”That’s not what I- Nevermind.” He sighs and pushes John away but his husband can tell the blush is a pleased one now. One day he will make him believe how beautiful he is and he won’t need these constant reminders (John’s gonna keep giving them anyway, of course).

”Should we get going then?” He asks casually, and Gale has just had time to nod when his phone starts ringing again. He checks the ID and frowns. ”It’s Brady again. I’ll get this and then we can go.”

Bucky responds with a seemingly careless uhm but grimances as he turns to face the other way. He’s just made it to the door when the scandalized yell of JOHN CLARENCE EGAN fills the air.

”I’ll wait at the car sweetheart!” he yelps back and starts running. He even makes it down two sets of staris before Gale manages to tackle him down.

[dykedvonte]

I saw your earlier post and you mentioned how people say things like "Curly is a grown ass man", "Curly is bigger than Jimmy", "Curly is Jimmy's boss", "He just needed a backbone" and you're so right cuz it drives me insane the way people want to hate Curly as much as Jimmy so they start saying really concerning stuff. Like is that not just victim blaming? Is saying "Curly is a grown ass man" not just rephrasing "why didn't she fight back?" It feels like the fandom think they can just say vile shit because his abuse wasn't physical (at first, and don't even get me started on anyone saying he deserved to be abused as if any kind of abuse can be justified) and he's a guy. Makes me wonder if people would bother seeing Curly as another victim if he was a woman or if discussion would be equally as insufferable because he's still not the "perfect victim" compared to Anya

It's crazy the way people say "I would've fixed everything unlike Curly" and then continue brushing off a victim and saying they deserved it. Even Curly acknowledged Anya's suffering even if he failed to help her in the end, and yet the fandom acts like this without any self-awareness (sorry for ranting like this but I'm just very tired of the fandom recently)

What worse about those comments and the sentiments is it’s often used when people are discussing him as a victim. Like acknowledging the abuse he also faced with Jimmy and that it shouldn’t matter or have an effect because he needed to “man up” and deal with it due to his position.

He needed to deal with it more effectively yes, but it is really victim blamey in the sense he should’ve just been able to. I talked about if Curly was a girl people would probably still judge her on the basis of being more experienced and accomplished and also needing to know better. The problem is that every is trying to treat what Anya and Curly went through on a comparative level. The game does not try to do that but instead tries to have their abuse parallel each other and be metaphorical, along with show the subtle and explicit ways abusers treat their victims.

People see how Jimmy and Curly parallel each other and create the idea “they deserved each other” in some weird ironic penance stance on both their parts. It’s just so odd because the game clearly shows that not a single person was deserving of their situation and especially the treatment under Jimmy at any point for any reason. The game centers around everyone paying for callous actions he commits and refuses to take responsibility for and yet the conversation center around one of his most tormented victims being questioned on how deserving he was of it/how it shouldn’t have effected him that badly.

I know you can be mad at Curly but making it out that if he was a real good man than he just would’ve had the balls to stand up to what was likely years of emotional and mental degradation still perpetuates the idea if a victim really didn’t like the treatment they would’ve just fought back harder or not put themselves into that position in the first place.

It goes back to the idea that there’s always a way to stop it and it’s on you if it happens. It’s again taking focus off the perpetrator and putting it on other aspects than the ever present source. Idk man but it’s like people are trying to make so many slightly different think pieces on MW that some just loop back to harmful rhetoric we were just moving away from.

[jazeswhbhaven]

SitrixOC Astra (Third POV) Tags/Warnings: Vanilla, Fluff with porn, vaginal penetration, heavy petting, cardiophilia, Non-canon, Canon character x OC character Words: 2K+

Astra stood up, her head swimming after finishing the contract removal ritual with Sitri. Being only the second time she had performed this, it was natural that she would feel a bit woozy. 

Damn, I never expected to be this sick. But then again…I’m not from hell…

Ppyong looked at her, flying around in circles with a concerned look. “I think it’s time again, aye! Miss Astra, do you need it?” 

Astra looked up at Ppyong, trying to smile away the nausea that suddenly appeared. It was that time again, but she felt it was too soon. She had just received energy from Satan about a day ago. Or so she thought since the sun technically had not set yet. But who knew how time worked here? A day in Hell could mean two on Earth. 

“I’ll be fine, Pp-” Astra struggles to finish her sentence, nearly bending over and placing a hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up. She also felt like her lungs were caving in, each breath she took being harder than the last. 

“It’s time,” Sitri says, standing up and gently rubbing Astra’s back. She sat up and looked over at Satan who was staring at her wordlessly. 

“Okay, I admit it. I need energy again. But isn’t it too soon?” Astra gasps, holding onto Sitri’s sleeve.

“No, it’s your first time in Hell. You’ll need it more often until you’re used to it.” Satan spoke plainly as if Astra should already know this. She rolls her eyes and squints her eyes at him. 

“Then, will it be you again? Mister, chokes a lot.” She added sass to her voice, which made Satan chuckle boyishly as if he’d pulled the biggest “gotcha” moment. But Sitri kept rubbing her back and answered her question instead. 

“You have already exchanged energy with His Majesty. It would be wise to choose another devil now so one source won’t be exhausted.” 

“Oh.” Astra stood up fully, exchanging a glance between Satan and Sitri while rubbing her thumbs together. “So, I’ll be with you next?” 

Satan frowned, unable to hide his distaste but he knew Sitri was right. “Yeah. Astra, think of the place where you’re most comfortable. Like before.” 

“So we’re doing this now?” 

“Yes. Now.” 

Astra exhales slowly, letting her mind go at ease as she thinks of Minhyeok’s room. It felt odd, just like last time as if she were using his room in real time though it was just an illusion. She wasn’t actually in his room. She wondered if she could get over the guilt of having her first time be with Satan while doing it on what was a manifestation of her childhood best friend’s bed. Though, it was useless to dwell in the past. It already happened, and she needed this to stay alive. 

At the same time while zoning out, she could overhear Satan’s conversation with Sitri. 

“Hey.” 

Sitri stares at his superior, straight-faced as usual and attentive. “Yes, your Majesty?” 

“She’s mine.” 

“....I’m aware.” 

Satan was satisfied with the answer, not wanting to cause problems with his subordinate. However, there was something backhanded about Sitri’s statement that made him want to kick his ass. It was as if that lingering attitude he picked up from Hades was taunting him. 

“Your Majesty, aren’t you going with Miss Astra this time, aye?” Ppyong asks genuinely while flying around closely to the slightly ticked-off king. 

Satan swatted at Ppyong, scoffing and clicking his tongue.

“They sound like we’re in one of those dramas.” Astra thinks to herself, highly amused. Even though it was tempting, there was no time for Astra to say anything or focus on their banter, as Minhyeok’s room came into view. 

It’s cold again. Wait…

Astra took a look down, her body bare like last time. 

“Well fuck where did my clothes go again?” She covers her breasts, looking around for some kind of cover until- 

“Solomon.” 

Astra jumped, tripping over her own feet and landing on the bed behind her. In front of her stood Sitri, staring at her with pink cheeks while still holding a full cup of warm tea. 

“Nervous?” He asks, coming closer to her with a sincere tone to his voice. 

“No. Well, maybe. This is the second time I’m doing this.” Astra had to admit to herself that essentially having what was considered two dick appointments back to back was something out of the ordinary for someone like her. She was a virgin the night before, and now…

“Here, have some tea. It will help.” He offers his cup to her, Astra readily accepting. The smell emitting from it is fragrant and soothing, as she takes her first sip to test the temperature. It was smooth, quite honestly the most perfectly brewed tea she ever had in her life. Before she knew it the entire cup was gone, Sitri grinning from ear to ear as he took the cup back from her. 

“Sitri that was amazing…I’m already feeling-” Astra paused, putting her hand to her chest as her heart thumped wildly. The room was quiet, but now it sounded more like a symphony with her pulse echoing throughout the walls. She looked at Sitri, who was so red in the face and trembling that she knew something was not right. 

“Wait, this tea…is there caffeine in it?” 

“Why yes, it’s black tea.” 

Astra stood up, uncrossing her arms and pointing at Sitri with a firm pout, and her brow furrowed. “Sitri, this won’t calm me down. My heart feels like it’s on overdrive!” 

The other steps up to her, reaching his hand behind her head and bending down to take her lips in a slow and deep kiss. This was much deeper and intimate than the first time she met him. His tongue explored the remnants of the tea lingering in her mouth, his moans and whimpers flowed into her as he brought her closer to his body. 

“Your heartbeat…it sounds heavenly. So good…so loud.” He rasps, his deep pink hues meeting her gaze. 

Astra now could pay attention to the details of his eyes. His pupils, blue upside-down crosses. Swirls of deep and light pink in his irises mesmerized her and made her forget that she gulped down enough caffeine to have her wired for theoretically a week. 

“Solomon, your heartbeat…before then it was hard to concentrate on it. Erratic, mysterious, uncharted. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But now, this simple, steady beat is enough. And I like it a lot.” 

Astra’s head was hazy from the kiss, but she then felt an overwhelming emotion. Disdain. There was one thing she couldn’t stand about Sitri since she arrived, and it was how she was constantly…ever so…compared to her ancestral grandfather. 

“I’m not him.” She gently pushes Sitri away, turning her back to him. “I don’t want to be compared to him. I don’t even know the man and you’re comparing me to him.” 

“Solomon, I didn’t mean-” 

“My name is Astra, Sitri. Astra. A-S-T-R-A. There is no Solomon in that name. Only in my blood. Don’t call me by his name when we’re like this. I don’t…I don’t like it.” With her heightened heartbeat, even more wild now that she was upset, the room shakes in response to her current state. Sitri’s arms wrap around her from behind, his lips against her neck as he gently kisses up to her earlobe. 

“I’m sorry that I’ve offended you, I don’t call you that to compare. It’s just…I’m so used to” 

“Then get used to me. Sitri.” Astra turns around, staring into Sitri’s eyes again before kissing his cheek, then his lips once more, wrapping her arms around his neck. In seconds, she’s lifted off the floor into his arms, her legs around his waist to brace herself as he carries her to the bed. With a gentle flop, Astra lands on her back, smiling and placing her foot on his chest to playfully push him back. 

Sitri smiles, taking off his top, the silky black fabric pulling over his head and falling to the floor revealing a well-toned, muscular physique that he was hiding effectively under it. Astra’s heart thumps louder upon seeing his frame, his tattoos now showing, and his waist, the ratio to his thighs better than any male model or porn star she’s seen before. 

“Wow...Sitri..” She gasps, feeling the arousal increase between her thighs. She reaches out to touch him letting the definition of his muscles flex and react to her fingertips. He sighed, leaning closer to kiss her forearm and flashing a gaze at her that was teaming with ecstasy. 

“You’re getting excited…if you could hear what I hear-” He shudders and exhales again, his eyes closing and opening slowly. “...you would understand how aroused I am right now.” 

Astra sits up, scooting her body closer to Sitri, her hands now at his waist teasing the waistband of his pants. 

“I want these off.” She says in a low voice, giving the other an innocent look. Sitri wastes no time, his pants removed in record time as they too hit the floor along with his underwear. Astra’s eyes take in the shape and size of his cock, noting that he was about the same size as Satan but slightly thicker. 

She allows Sitri to lift her once again, positioning her hips at the right angle before the tip of him kisses her entrance. Astra’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she keeps her eyes locked with his. With a small nod to give him the signal, she feels his shaft slowly push past her wet folds. A whimpering noise escapes her throat, her head burying in Sitri’s neck and chest as she takes him all in one go until he bottoms out. Sitri sits for a minute, slowly breathing as his chest rises and falls. She could tell by the way he gripped her waist that he was savoring the moment, and pressing her chest against his so he could feel her heart thump faster now that he was nestled deep within her. 

“So…good. So steady. I want to hear more…” Sitri whispers in her ear before he pulls out and snaps his hips upward, causing Astra to gasp and cry out suddenly. He then evens out his strokes to the beat of her heart, the rhythm following closely at the same time hitting the right spots over and over. Astra felt no pain, only pleasure as she held onto Sitri the best she could. The way he was fucking her was more gentle, more sensual than Satan. Each thrust had meaning but was just as powerful and unrelenting. 

Before she knew it she was on her back, staring up at him from below as her chest felt as if it were on fire. Her heartbeat was rising, the steady thumps turning into fast-paced pulses as if she were running a marathon. 

“You’re showing off, is that for me?” Sitri asks with a grin on his face before leaning down and kissing the area where her heart was located. He bit down on the flesh, swirling his tongue before focusing on her breast and taut nipple. Astra arches her back, her legs not letting go of Sitri’s waist as he continues to pump into her wildly. Her hand curiously roams down his thigh, taking a handful of his toned and plump ass and squeezing it tightly. Sitri moans and pauses his movements, biting his lips, shaking, and looking at Astra with wild eyes. 

“Again, please.” He begs in bated breath. Astra grins and uses both hands to grasp his ass and mold the flesh between her fingers. She couldn’t believe he was so sensitive by just having his backside massaged when he took so many kicks from Satan. Perhaps it was different during sex, as with each squeeze and tap his cock swelled and throbbed inside her. 

“Oh, Sitri…you’re so hard you’re stretching me out…” Astra pants, the blue-haired devil leaning down to take her lips in a fervent kiss as continues to stay dormant in his position. As Astra kept her hands firm on his ass, he swirled his tongue with hers, growling and pressing his chest against hers.

As she pulls back from the kiss, that’s when she notices Sitri’s horn is gleaming in the light, covered in the same milky substance she experienced when playing with Satan’s horns. She grabs it, rubbing it vigorously. Sitri moans loudly, the sensation causing him to pause in his thrusting before he changes his pattern, his strokes now deep and in unison with her hand movements. 

“Yes…like that…fuck…” Sitri’s eyes close as he bites his lip.

Astra felt herself clench around his shaft, excited to hear Sitri curse as he did. He appeared so well-mannered and distinguished that he was like a different devil in the bedroom. She couldn’t say much more, the stimulation from the caffeine, the sex, and even stroking his horn was overwhelming. It was as if everything he felt, she could too. At the same time, she was moments away from passing out, her climax reaching its peak. 

“Sitri…I can’t…I’m about to lose it!” Astra cries and grabs his forearms tightly as she throws her head back, her walls closing even tighter around his cock as spasms rippled through her core. For a moment she thought her heart stopped, but the gentle kisses of Sitri let her know that wasn’t the case.

“That’s it…just like that, Astra.” Sitri saying her voice so sweetly made her whimper as another wave of pleasure hit her, this time a bit of fluid coating the other’s cock as he pulled out and slid back in to help her ride it out. “We can stop here for now…it’s a lot of you to take this much energy. Normally, you’d be able to exchange much more and receive more but this is enough. We’ll try again at a later time.” 

Astra felt her exhaustion hit like a brick wall, limbs heavy and the wild thumps of her pulse finally regulating and slowing to a normal state. She looks at Sitri with tired eyes, reaching out to him to gently cup his cheek, his lips kissing her palm. 

“Sleep well,” Sitri says, his nails gently tracing her jaw down to her chest. Astra smiles weakly before closing her eyes, Sitri’s swollen cock still deep inside of her until she is softly snoring. He removes himself reluctantly, wishing he could stay like this with her for a while longer. But he knew well. 

“Someday, I’ll do what I want to with you…and that’s when I’ll let you know my true feelings.” He says, picking her up into his arms as they sat in the manifestation of Minheyok’s room in silence. The steady beat of her heart intertwined with Sitri’s being the only thing that played like music in his ears.

[blu3-ja3]

Did I give O'Connor a phobia that I have... Yes do I care, no! Having perfect characters is so boring! I'm currently cleaning out my drafts I promise I'll start writing my story soon!

O'Connor has never liked riding in cars, very specifically cars. She can handle being on a boat going at top speed, she can handle being in a helicopter making evasion maneuvers, hell shes loved the few times she's driven a motorcycle or ATV. But for whatever reason she hates being in cars, a small part of her knows it is trauma from being in the car crash that killed her mother and crippled her father. But even before the accident she hated being in those vehicles.

Price learned early on into his deployment with Sergeant O'Connor not to put her behind the wheel or near the front. He sees how she clams up, trying her best not to shake like a leaf. She'll never admit it nor argue against driving when told too. Hell there's been a few times where her twitchiness behind the wheel has saved his and his team's asses. That doesn't mean he won't do his damnedest to keep her in the back away from the windows.

Ghost notices his new Captain is a bit nervous, it radiates off her in waves. She was fine up until they had to get into the dingy little pickup, he noticed her hesitation to drive like a deer ready to run at the faintest sound. She only calmed a little when Ghost got into the driver's seat, but her leg is bouncing so hard she might punch a hole through the rusty bottom of the truck. And when he asked if something was wrong, she was short and clipped. The polar opposite of how she interacted with him this entire mission, it's their first time on the field together. It's just them and yet she's never once steamed rolled over him like all his other captains have... Wel not Price but everyone else. No instead she asked for his opinion on every major decision and she actually listens to his suggestions adding to them or just going with them. He's worried but it soon disappears as they reach their stop, he watches her basically bolt out of the truck as soon as it stops. And only then does it dawn on him why the sudden change and he relaxes again.

Gaz is an excellent driver, he knows this, it's a point of pride for him. So he's a bit miffed when he notices the doctor gripping the oh-shit handle for dear life as he speeds through snowy hills of middle of nowhere Canada. He's used to seeing people smiling and enjoying themselves when he drives like this. There's no danger chasing after to warrant this kind of stress from O'Connor but it's there. He slows a bit much to the disappointment of himself and Roach who sat in the back. He watches as O'Connor calms a bit from the corner of his eye and he feels a little hurt. It isn't until he watches her when someone else is driving does it click, it's not just him... Though his speed didn't seem to help.

Roach finds it very odd that at every chance she gets O'Connor sits in the back seats, even though she would be far more comfortable in the front. It baffles him every time she gives the seat to someone else including himself but he's never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It isn't until Soap and Gaz spell it out to him does he notice the panic she holds in her body even in the back seats. He takes it upon himself to distract the doctor while in transit. He's had varying degrees of success but he's noticed a pattern. When O'Connor can't see the road she's calmer, prefers to not have a window to see outside. He does his best to help her on the more stressful drives, it's only fair she's helped him with a million of his own fears.

Soap is a smart man, he's also observant, despite what people think. So he picks up on O'Connor's tension when she's riding with himself, Ghost, Alejandro, and Rudy through Las Almas. At first he thought it was due to being in a car full of men but he quickly wrote that off as soon as they met the rest of Alejandro's team. Her tension was slow to creep in when they're driving and it's only when they're in the cars. He thought it was interesting how well she handled everything else but as soon as they started driving it was tension. He also knows she calms a bit when they speak gaelic, much to the chagrin of their traveling companions. But if it helped his friend calm down then he'll deal with the confused stares.

The boys all agree behind O'Connor's back that if given the option they won't drive, if they have to she gets the middle seat and either Roach or Soap are to sit next to her. Price feels a bit of fatherly pride when they bring it up to him, knowing they're willing to help O'Connor the best they can without being told outright to do so.

[glisten-inthedark]

Get ready for some rambling nonsense that is all over the fucking place

Mike is so fucking clever man like when it comes to plans and whatnot no wonder he's the dungeon master

I forgot that he's the one who comes up with the idea of interrogating Will and hiding their location from him, he's even the one who takes Hopper to the shed which means that he was also the one who thought of using the shed

and he’s the first one to bring up that closing the gate will kill Will.

Also, underrated moment of Mike right when Will’s eyes are coming into focus after waking up in the shed, Mike looks so anxious and he’s either biting his thumb or he’s got his fist pressed to his mouth, and his eyebrows are doing that 🥺 thing and he looks so vulnerable, and then he crosses his arms and right before the camera leaves him he goes :] and it’s so hard to explain but it’s so pitifully adorable in a sad sweet way😭

And then of course Mike’s face when Will starts screaming about being tied up, again it’s so open and vulnerable and I swear I need to see this from Finn Wolfhard again in season 5 (not saying that he didn’t excel in 3 or 4 but Mike wasn’t given the same opportunities for this particular kind of vulnerability in those season—he should have had a similar look during his ily speech if, yknow, it was sincere, but that’s a whole other anon).

I swear Mike has “Will eyes” in these scenes that I literally only ever see him use once with another person and that’s when he sees El again for the first time after thinking she was dead. But damn those eyes are just so VULNERABLE and so filled with emotion and I NEED to see that again in season 5

I also just realized that they put Mike in the foreground and in focus during Will’s screaming in the shed and, in the same shots, put Jonathan in the background, partially behind a light and out of focus. They never put Jonathan in focus in those shots despite him being Will’s brother; they essentially prioritize Mike and his reaction and tell the audience that he’s more important than even Will’s own brother’s during this part (and Charlie is acting his ass off in those shots too)

I also forgot that it was raining when Jonathan and Will finished Castle Byers. And it rained when Will destroyed Castle Byers. Wow I hope Mike rebuilt Castle Byers and we get a scene of Mike and Will hiding in there during a storm because full circle. Anyways,

Also underrated, the fact that Mike doesn’t start crying when talking to Will. He starts crying before he even opens his fucking mouth, that tear on his cheek has been falling for a while

Noah Schnapp’s acting during this scene!!! you can see Will fighting so hard to overcome the Mind Flayer but he’s not strong enough to retake his voice and you can see the moment the Mind Flayer overpowers him and his face smooths out and his eyes go dull. Wow, A+

Man I may not ship Milkvan but the reunion scene makes me cry EVERY FUCKING TIME, once again, Finn’s acting is incredible in this scene

Interesting that they chose to put Will in Jonathan’s bedroom and then have Mike and Hop’s fight be in Will’s bedroom. Why, from a writing perspective, not just put Will in his own bedroom? That’s the logical thing to do. Why did they choose to have that fight happen in Will’s bedroom?

Hello!!

Oh yeah, Mike is incredibly smart. People talk about Dustin but Mike is super intelligent as well, but I feel that Mike's intelligence is more practical whereas Dustin is more theorical, if that makes sense.

Mike definitely has "Will's eye", he looks at him so softly most of the time, there's so much care and love when he looks at Will.

If you think about the room thing, two of Mike's monumental monumental moments happen there. This one and when kisses him and he panicks.

Is like a symbolism of the fact that he's overwhelmed by Will's presence during those moments, like he's being surrounded by him somehow.