#and as with every time I'm reminded he exists I'm going insane

[weedle-testaburger]

not me remembering chirrut imwe exists and wishing disney would let him be a thing

[reiderwriter]

ACK I'm so excited that your requests are open again! Um okay, this one feels a bit silly but I'd love a fic where fem!bau!reader is really attracted to Spencer and the way that he smells? (I just KNOW that man smells like cinnamon and a Scholastic Book Fair.) Like, she's been doing a good job hiding her crush from the team, until Spencer catches her eyes dilating at him when he's standing close. And he's an oblivious king, so he's trying to figure out why they were dilated. If it could be race blind like my last request, and from Spencer's POV, that'd be great. (Or split POV, if you'd rather). I really see this as fluff, but if you want to include angst or smut go right on ahead! Thank you for reading my request! Your writing makes my day.

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: This was so fun and silly, and I love writing awkward, puppy love Spencer because sometimes you just have to let yourself become mildly infatuated with a coworker. For the plot. Or at least character development. I hope you like this one!!

Warnings: none.

Masterlist

You thought you'd settled into work well in your first few weeks as a member of the BAU. You thought you were up to speed about everything going on in the office. There was just one mystery left to solve.

“Where is that smell coming from?” You whispered to yourself, frustratedly sniffing the air for the second day in a row as you attempted to locate the warm, delightful smell that seemed to follow you whenever you were in the office.

“Could be one of Garcia's scented candles. They tend to linger,” JJ said from her corner of the bull pen.

“No, I checked earlier and she said they made her throw those out weeks ago.”

Honestly, it was not knowing that was driving you insane. If you knew what the smell was, you could bottle it, spray it all around yourself, and wrap yourself in it like a little blanket. It somehow reminded you of home and of the public library you'd spent much of your childhood in.

After another day of being able to figure out whoever had bought the scent version of the Scholastic Book Fair mixed with homemade cinnamon buns, you gave up. 12 hours of paperwork, and you were just as excited to get away from the sight of brown folders as ever, and as everyone else in the bureau, evidently.

Grabbing your bag, you got in the line for the elevators alongside your team.

“Ready for the crush?” Derek said, punching Spencer Reid on the arm as they waited ahead of you.

“Ow,” the younger man muttered and you tried to hold your giggles back, rolling your eyes as you watched them in amusement.

Derek’s words were true, though. Every day at home time, the elevators packed up quickly, and being on the middle floor meant that it could often take a while for the elevator to come back to you. You swore it was half the reason Hotch stayed late most nights, just to avoid the crush of the trip home.

“I've been taking the DC public transport since I got this job. You think the elevators are bad. Try 8 am subway on a Monday morning.”

The doors opened, and the three of you climbed into the barely there space of the elevator. With a quick side step, you found yourself against the left wall of the elevator. But to your shock, the scent you'd been searching for for three weeks didn't dissipate as it usually did when you got on the elevator.

It was here. The source of the scent was here.

You tried to stay calm as it grew more potent, tried not to frantically look around searching for whatever man or woman was perfumed in heaven. The doors opened again, and more people squeezed in, and suddenly, you found yourself buried nose-first in whatever sensory heaven existed here on earth.

“Sorry,” you heard a mumble in front of you as Spencer held his hand against the wall above your head, trying to keep a polite enough distance so as not to squish you any further. Your mismatching heights, however, led to your face being just about level with his neck.

You really weren't trying to smell him, but you had to inhale, and each time you did, it was a sensory overload.

It was him. Dear God, it was him.

The proximity and his scent really weren't helping your brain stop short circuiting in that moment, and you had to remind yourself after a minute or two or three that you were staring.

Though evidently Spencer had already noticed, and was looking at you with some concern.

“Are you okay? It's pretty tight in here, but I can try and move back if you're uncomfortable.”

“No! No, it's okay,” you did your best not to shout the words out, suddenly wanting his smell and his body close forever.

You hadn't been looking before, but like a freight train at maximum speed, the weight of his attractiveness hit you all at once. There was a slight stubble peppering his jaw, his hair hanging slightly loose, eyes big, and brown, and beautiful. He was tall, and you knew he was strong from watching him manhandle unsubs each week.

To put it blankly, you spiralled. Hard. Straight into infatuation and attraction, and you felt your head growing light with the tipsy feeling of a girlish crush.

You were fucked.

Spencer was concerned about you for the next week.

For starters, he knew that most new hires pushed themselves to the extreme over the first month and ended up quickly burnt out, mentally and physically. He may not have the best physical stamina, but he knew the lengths he had to go to to maintain his mental and physical wellness while working the job.

Which was why he started looking out for you a bit more. Every time he looked at you, you were staring off into space, somewhere just past him, or around him, face glazed over.

He wondered if you had a fever a few times, subtly touching your forehead - wiping away some sweat or a strand of hair - to feel you, and you did always feel hot.

You insisted you were fine though. But the nervous panic, and the constant insistence made him wary enough to pull you aside one day and ask you straight to your face.

“Do you need something?” He said, having unassumingly lured you off to the meeting room without arousing suspicions.

“What? What do you mean?” You said, instantly defensive. You'd hoped you hadn't been as creepy as you knew you had and that he hadn't caught on to your stolen glances and sudden close proximity.

You really couldn't help it. The man smelt too fucking good.

“If you're feeling sick, no one is going to think any less of you for taking a half day, you know.”

His voice was so gentle, you almost didn't die from sheer embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh! Oh, oh no, I'm fine, I'm totally healthy. As a cow!”

“A cow?”

“Yes, I'm as healthy as your average farm animal. Can I go back to work?”

You made to leave, but he grabbed your wrist gently as you brushed past him, and it was like sparks travelled up your arm and pierced your heart directly.

“Spencer!?” you squeaked.

“Your heart rate is elevated, and you feel hot and clammy,” he said, which was exactly the kind of compliment you were aiming to receive from men you were falling for. “You should go see a doctor and then get some rest.”

“No, Spencer, that's not-”

“Everyone pushes themselves in these first few weeks. I had to take a week off after two days in the field from the weight of holding a gun up for so long, which is more embarrassing than it sounds, and Derek-”

“What cologne do you use?” you snapped, desperately hoping to both shut him up and also detangle yourself from this situation with at least one win under your belt. If you found out whatever the smell was he used, you could buy it, grow accustomed to it, and grow out of whatever phase you were going through before you out your job in jeopardy.

“What?”

“You smell… really good. I was wondering what cologne it is.”

“I don't… I don't really use cologne.”

You baulked, unable to stop your face from dropping as your dreams of detaching yourself from your little crush on Spencer Reid faded before your very eyes.

“Shower gel? Shampoo maybe?”

“They're both unscented.”

“So you just… you just smell like that naturally?”

It was his turn to flush then, though the panic never left your head fully.

“Sorry, is it… distracting.”

“Yes,” you whispered, but with such an exhausted exhale, it sounded like a dreamt sigh. You wanted to kick yourself. You wanted to open his jacket, step inside, bury your face in his chest, and fall asleep.

“I see.”

“Mhmm.”

A minute passed in awkward silence, and you wanted to kick yourself for blurting everything out. Quickly turning to leave again, you wished so dearly to erase the last five minutes of your life, sending up enough hail mary’s to absolve you of any sin.

“Lavender. And sometimes patchouli,” he called from behind you as you took your first steps to the door.

“Hmm?” you said, turning back around against your better judgment.

“What?”

“That's what you smell like,” he explained, hands suddenly very preoccupied with his jacket buttons. “I'm not great with scents, but you also smell… nice. Sorry, that was weird.”

“No, not at-”

“You know, the major histocompatibility complex genes are important for the immune system and appear to play a role in sexual attraction via body odour. Studies have shown that body odour is strongly connected with attraction in heterosexual females.”

“Oh. I didn't know that…”

“Do you want to grab dinner with me?”

The words almost knocked you back into the door, as sudden as they were. Had he just asked you on a date? Or was it a friendly coworker thing? A friendly coworker thing where he acknowledged your attraction to his scent and then invited you out on a date.

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like to get dinner with you.”

He did his best to suppress the smile, and you tried hard as well, though neither of you succeeded.

“Great, perfect,” he said, circling you as he made his way to the door, his eyes always turned to you no matter what. He likely regretted that as he bumped into first the edge of a table, then a chair, and then hitting the door with his back, but in your state of puppy love, you didn't care.

“It's a date,” he said, opening the door and walking away, cheeks flushed with heat.

[samuelsdean]

Stitch Me Up

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: for dean, every scrape, every gash, was a twisted plea for your touch.

genre: angst

word count: 0.5k

author's notes: i wrote this at 3 am on my notes app while simultaneously rewatching spn because i'm insane and i'm a huge advocate of touch-starved!dean.

THE METALLIC TANG OF BLOOD WAS DEAN'S CONSTANT UNPLEASANT FOREWARNING THAT DEAN HAD RETURNED—HE WAS HOME. Sprawled on the floor, another injury marring his flesh, and he sees you right there in front of him. He could see the anger in your eyes, could feel the fury that bubbles in your gut is ceaseless, a familiar dance with the ever-present terror.

For Dean, every scrape, every gash, was a twisted plea for your touch.

Dean loves it when you touch him, when you lay your hands gently on his skin, careful not to cause him more pain than what he is dealing with at the moment. He loves it when you clean his wounds while going off on another tangent as to how he should be more cautious—threatening him that next time, you would not be there to treat him; yet, every time, not one did you miss his homecoming, when he comes home bloodied, the first thing you do is come running and restoring him to full health. He craved your tirades, the harsh scoffs, and thinly veiled threats that were your flimsy shield against worry. Each rant was a desperate battle cry, a plea for him to be careful.

Yet, Dean could not help himself. He reveled in your ministrations, the gentle contrast to the fire of your anger.

Dean loves it when you tend to him because it is proof that you care.

And he craves it—craves you—your presence, your touch—everything. He thinks it is sickening how much he has grown to crave you. Because he thinks he does not deserve you, and he knows that the universe always tries to play a sick joke on him.

It was a warped version of his affection born from a life spent in the shadows. Love, for him, was a dangerous dance, a promise of heartbreak waiting to happen. People he cared about had a knack for disappearing, leaving him with the cold comfort of solitude. Hunting was a drifter's existence. A life with no room for roots or dreams. Letting someone in, and building a family, was a recipe for disaster.

It is a lonely life being a hunter. One could never have the chance to put down roots because there is always a monster to hunt, a demon to exorcise, and a case to solve. Loving someone and having a family is just a foolproof way of getting yourself hurt. Yet, here he was, craving the very thing he swore to avoid. It was a sickness, a yearning that gnawed at his soul.

Because the truth, the terrifying truth, was that Dean could not bear the thought of being truly alone.

The sting of disinfectant was a cruel reminder of his twisted reality. As you patched him up, his eyes, usually alight with mischief, held a touch of vulnerability. At that moment, Dean gave you a glimpse of his plea for something more than just mending—a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in a world that felt increasingly fragile, right beside you.

But the question remained, a silent echo in the tense air: could you give him what he craved without sacrificing your own heart in the process?

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason meets baby Damian

Headcanon: Jason Todd knew about Damian Wayne's existence way before Bruce did and didn't tell the man because of everything they went through. He switched his murderous plan of vengeance, for long-term vengeance.

Talia entered the room holding a baby, the baby is sleeping as he's holds on to his mother's hip.

Jason (wide-eyed): Is that a baby?

Talia (nodding) : Yes.

Jason (worried): Is that… your baby?

Talia (firmly): Yes.

Jason (panicking): Oh God, oh God! Is it MY baby?!

Talia (frustrated): In your mind, he might be! But here in reality, we never had sex! I have stated that over a hundred times! You trying to woo me was met with rejection! I've never had sex with you. You were my surrogate son for Ra's sake! I damn sure wasn’t about to do that while you were underage and insane. What kind of person do you take me for?

Jason (blunt): You swear allegiance to your father at every turn.

Talia (cutting him off): I did NOT sleep with you though!

Suddenly, the baby sneezed, startling Talia.

Jason (jokingly): Then whose baby is it? Bruce's?

Jason chuckled, but Talia stared at him, unamused.

Talia (sighing): Yes, he is the father.

Jason (surprised, then doubtful): …No, he’s not.

Talia (insistent): He is.

Jason (musing, chuckling): …No, he’s not.

Talia (through gritted teeth): Yes. He. Is.

Jason (shaking his head) : He can’t be. No way.

Talia held up her index finger and pulled out her phone, dialing her father.

Talia (when he answers) : Father, the DNA test revealed Bruce is the father of my precious tifl, correct?

Ra's Al Ghul (sobbing): Stop reminding me of that! I only want to focus on him being an assassin, not related to that man!

Talia ended the call and looks at Jason smugly.

Talia: There you go.

Jason (stunned): You and him… had him? And… oh my God. The supposed tough man who can never fold, folded for a booty call!

Jason started chuckling, which quickly evolved into fits of laughter. He sat down, still laughing, while Talia tapped her foot impatiently.

Talia (offended): It was NOT a booty call! Our night of passion was unforgettable… especially since the condom did, in fact, break. Damn gas station contraceptives!

Jason (between laughs): You used the ones from the gas station? Oh God! Wait, wait, who had it?

Talia: He... did. They were in his wallet.

Jason (enjoying this): You’re both idiots when it comes to sex!

Talia held the baby, who had been quiet throughout their banter, close to her face.

Talia: Big Brother Jacy doesn’t understand that you are the love child of a perfect pair.

Jason laughed harder, covering his eyes.

Talia (seriously): Do not tell Bruce. He’s not ready to meet him yet.

Jason (grinning): Oh, I won’t! I’m not telling him a thing.

Talia (deadpan): You better not. If you do, I have men who can make your death look like a suicide or render you a vegetable.

Jason wiped a tear away from all the laughter.

Jason (sincerely) : Chill, Talia. I'm serious. The secret is safe with me until you're ready to tell him. It's the perfect revenge. But when that happens, send me pictures of his reaction.

Talia (rolling her eyes while cradling the baby): You’re ridiculous.

Jason (smirking): Thank you! What’s his name, by the way?

Talia (pondering): I’ve been debating different names. Ra wants me to name him… Ra Jr.? Yeah, no. I decided on Damian. Damian for my cute wittle baby.

She rubbed the baby's cheeks, making him giggle, but she stopped when she heard Jason chuckle again, but ignored his judgmental smirk.

Talia (defensively): No judgment! I’ve always wanted a baby by Bruce. Never tell my father I showed that affection.

Jason (teasing): I might.

Talia (warning): If you do—

Jason (interrupting) : Yes, yes, you’ll toss me into the river or whatever.

Talia: Yes, now since you travel here would you like to spend time with him?

Jason looked at the baby that rested his head on his mother's chest.

Jason: Sure, especially since I can rub that in Bruce's face too.

Talia: Not the healthiest mindset, but okay.

Jason: You sure are right to judge me, woman who had sex with a guy who is not with her at all and then had a baby because of a broken gas station condom—priceless!

Jason walked off, leaving Talia alone with her son. She groans, raising her left eyebrow in annoyance, but when she hears her baby yawn, she looks at him and nuzzled her nose against his cheek.

Talia (softly): My tifl.

---> Bruce finds out about Damian

---> Dick confronts Jason about keeping this secret

---> Bruce meeting his son part 2

[kevindavidday]

i love that neil considers jean as part of the family he wants to protect. i will elaborate this time because

if you think about it, neil spent book 1 trying his best not to build a connection, book 2 trying to break down the walls ending with confirming from nicky if they were friends, and every second after that deliberately doing whatever was in his goddamn power to keep these people safe and happy. going to edens for andrew, keeping the truth from them, getting the letter back for kevin, reminding kevin that he owes jean a conversation after all that's happened, fixing the twins' relationship, spending time with them even though he knew he would leave. in his mind, what he was doing was selfish because he was going to die soon and they didn't even know it.

he doesn't die, though and he comes back with even MORE fight in him than before. he meets his uncle once and although his mother hadn't wanted him to be involved in one gang after another, he doesn't give a single flying fuck. the hatford's existence is just another resource for him, a way to hurt those who have hurt his family. stuart already killed his father, so what's it matter if there's a few more - protecting him means protecting his family. if the fbi had any clue about the power neil actually holds over the hatford's they would all willingly eat their hats tbh.

so the first thing he does when he sees his uncle again? despite knowing that ichirou is close-by? he tells him to kill proust.

hell, even the moriyama's are nothing to this man if i'm being honest. he isn't afraid of them, he knew the rarity of ichirou's visits which made him wary when he got into the car to talk about bargaining their lives and i truly do believe ichirou moriyama was fucking relieved neil didn't ask for more than that. there is that strange, dead look in his eyes that he's inherited from his father which unnerves the fuck out of everyone who doesn't know him. and when he bargained for his life and kevin's, he remembered jean too.

which is fucking insane. he spent only winter break with jean moreau, ONLY. i know there's extra days at the nest, but i'd kill to know what happened between jean and neil during that time for neil to have such unflinching loyalty towards his 'forever partner'. i want to know their conversations, i want to know what they suffered through together.

and the casual way in which jean dropped the news about grayson to neil, after hiding it away from everyone for so long. he admitted the truth to neil straight up, like of course neil should know, it's neil. jean's mind is still haywired to remember him too even though they were only together for a few weeks!!!

what is it about them?

and then the entire time otw to the diner, neil's plotting again. he's scheming. he's thinking. and he knows what to do. and its asking for local work because fuck anyone who has ever hurt his family. he literally only ever needs a fucking name, bro. 'my first memories are of people dying.' i think we can tell...

wymack saw that leadership potential and made him vice captain. god bless neil only cares about playing exy because if he had even a second more interest in crime he would've floored everyone. i can see it so clearly.

anyway, hope he takes a hit out on tetsuji moriyama next 🙏

[peachyfnaf]

sun and moon show tumblr dashboard simulator. because i find these hilarious and this fandom needs one. assume this takes place in a "bad shit happens, but everyone's still on speaking terms" au for it to make the most sense kfjhsfd

0 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

when the nightmare goes so hard when you wake up you have to walk into the ocean just to make sure

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Lunar, are you okay..?

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

guess

22 notes

👤 sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

ok but the creator is kind of a dilf tho

🦙 TSAJSwillprevail Follow

he's killed hundreds

👤sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

is a man not allowed to be a manic pixie dream girl in this day and age

🛸 moonenjoyer9315 Follow

guys are we just ignoring op's url

536 notes

☣️ mellorinefuega Follow

coming across montgomery gator in the wild is crazy. like i was just trying to make a deposit at the bank one time and he came up behind me and punched the teller in the face

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

op my girlfriend went thru a similar experience a few months ago. this dude sounds like a menace, fr. so happy hes not near me.

🐊 trustmewithyourinformation Follow

182.62.250.90

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

is that my fukcign ip address

1,102 notes

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

This is a gentle reminder that everything will be okay, you just have to give it time!!!

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

im seriously at my limit

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Just give it time, everyone!!!

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

earth are you okay

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

guess

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

nexus NO

179 notes

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

eclipse v2 and nexus are one in the same. hit post. and go to bed

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

i just woke up. ive never been this scared to look at notes in my life

979 notes

💡 ballogmore Follow

i love going to the pizzaplex with my little sister bc she's there for the glamrocks. i'm there to see if i can get my hands on that twinky little jester

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

Which twinky little jester op

💡 ballogmore Follow

the daycare attendant model??? whomst the fuck else?????

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

You'd be surprised how little that narrows it down, actually

34,343 notes

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

🗡️ leavethatlittleguyalone Follow

bro what did v2 do to you

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

exist

557 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every day i try to not let my brother rob a bank, and then every day he provides me good reasons as to why i should let him

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

sun do yuo know what you could do with the money

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

i dont want to know, moon

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

do you need a getaway diver

52 notes

🌊 themagicwawa Follow

"sun is so cute!! solar's such a dilf. nexus being insane is so ho-"

absolutely none of you can handle what i have to say about him

99 notes

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

god help me, hes so fine

🏝 chronicappleeater-deactiaved062324

yeah, him and all 5 pixels

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

i see god smited you for this one

😈 itsme-fromthebible

wrong deity, but appreciate it regardless

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

THE DEVIL FROM THE BIBLE??!?!

823,383 notes

🦌 dailydazzledeer Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope taurus destroys the planet

55,932 notes

🦫 elchipichipichapachapa Follow

it's taken months, but i've finally finished it. the document explaining everything wrong with the sun and moon show

here's the link. enjoy

732 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every time one of us makes them mad, moon and nexus get closer to becoming the Hitachiin twins from ohshc to retaliate, and i fear the day they decide to just do it

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

HOW DID YOU BOTH REBLOG AT THE EXACT SAME TIME THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR 4 MINUTES

18 notes

🟦 woobificationofthesillies Follow

"we need more evil women in the world!!!" you people cant even handle miku

932,382 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

starting a conspiracy theory that we're all just puppets in a youtube show's script and that's why our lives are so miserable

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

hey guys why was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes

[sreyaya]

Ey so I have a Norton smut idea teehee :333

So I wanna req a short smut drabble with Norton's skin Infernal Sin where he worships the reader (preferably gn)

Pls I'm this desperate to see someone write a damn demon going all soft and puppy eyed to a human hhehshhebebhdhehehe

In the Shadows

Infernal Sin!Fool's Gold x gn!Reader NSFW

Content Warning: praising/worship, warm warm warm sex, 600 words, MDNI

(A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQ! I DON'T USUALLY WRITE FG!NORTON BUT I HOPE U ENJOY ANON~ (tried making reader as GN as possible))

smut under the cut!

Everyone was aware of him, his relentless demeanor sending shivers down everyone’s spine. Norton Campbell, no– not that Norton, Fool’s Gold. His mysterious face, body covered in molten lava of anger and heavy wounds casing his body, releasing red flames that erupted with hatred and malice. Even in frequent matches, he lets no one off his hook, a good hunter supposedly.

But it was all different for you, the only person he ever tolerated, adored, devoted himself to. Down the manor halls to the bedroom, he melted under your touch, feeling warmth in his hollow heart. Someone he could finally call his treasure, someone he had been longing for so long. He adored you more than anything else, the one and only, and he knew that all too well.

“You take it so well, treasure. Looking divine as ever,” he cooed, slowly caressing your hair, his eyes drinking in the sight of your already sobbing face as he inched more and more inside.

He was slow with you, why would he hurt his one and only treasure? After a long day of hunting, all he wanted was cuddles and time with his pride and joy, his gold. Releasing low grunts every now and then, his rough palms curving on your cheeks slowly as he entered even deeper, satisfied by how you took him so well.

“So warm for me, just can’t ever get enough of you,” he murmured, admiring every inch of your body as if it was a sacred finding, something he had longed for so long. Your moans sounded like music to his ears, earnest melody for his chaotic mind.

You held onto his shoulders, feeling the texture of his eccentric golden decorations that made him more captivating. Clenching every inch of him inside, you stared at his face ever so deeply, feeling slightly bummed out that his mask covered his handsome face regardless of what it was missing. It felt like as if the world had stopped for the both of you, everything was flawless tonight.

“I adore you too much, my diamond,” he whispered, thrusting sharply once. “You’re so perfect to me, I always wonder why you’d even look my way when everyone does differently,” he continued, not breaking the eye contact you both had. “And when you call my name ever so sweetly, I'm done for,” he said before kissing you deeply.

His crimson wound emitted light and warmth around the both of you. What usually tormented him throughout the nights finally made him feel warm with you. He had always appreciated all these slow nights just being next to you, just the two of you, as he kept himself warm inside, feeling fulfilled more than anything.

“You drive me insane, baby, the way you do everything, you’re so perfect for me,” he groaned, thrusting in one last time before coming undone inside you, his seed filling you slowly. His flames dimmed by the second, his demonic eyes glowing softly under the faintly lit room.

Norton was happy, genuinely happy, a rare emotion that he had almost forgotten existed. In your embrace, he found a serenity that had always slipped away from him, a peace that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. Your gentle touch, your soothing voice, and the love in your eyes were all he needed to remind him that he was more than just a monster, more than just a hunter feared by all.

[naomihatake]

Solitude

you can find other zoro fics here: Naomi's archive

pairing: zoro x fem reader

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, consumption of alcohol

summary: One would expect the swordsman to unwind after a battle, but there are times when he can't help but think. Alcohol doesn't always come in handy when a specific crewmate he grew fond of cuddled a tad bit too close to his heart.

word count: 3.3k

theme song: 'Daylight' by David Kushner

A/N: It can be imagined with both anime and opla Zoro. I don't know if he's slightly ooc or not, but I genuinely wanted to dig into this side of a relationship with the swordsman. The awkward times when he's getting used to it and simply accepting everything as a new part of his life.

I didn't forget about my multi chapter fiction, I just didn't find the inspiration for the 8th chapter. I couldn't help but write this for my own comfort and I want to mention that this original art of @tea917339 inspired me (check it out, it's absolutely amazing!!!)

I'm always open for your opinions and comments, so don't be shy about sharing your thoughts with me! <3

Usually, nights with the Straw Hats were lively, even after battles that left the crew members injured and bleeding. They would pick each other up and cheer up by simply bickering — that's what Zoro thought. 

The same way Luffy's hand extended to help him back on his feet after he plopped down on the ground to rest. The same way Zoro reassured Chopper after the kid tried his best not to get emotional afterwards. The same way Sanji threw some remarks and the swordsman spat back in annoyance. And, for fuck’s sake, Nami reminded him for the tenth time that day he owes her berry for something he completely forgot about. Usopp was sighing in relief every time he remembered they escaped with life again while Robin agreed with a soft smile on her face. Truly, it was almost insane — Zoro wouldn't exactly call that a miracle because he's doubtful of its existence. 

However, he couldn't bring himself to cheer up once the celebration of their victory was over and everyone went into their rooms. He was on the night watch and all he found himself capable of doing was burying in memories of all kinds, be it happy or not. With not enough alcohol in his system yet, it was rather hard to push those thoughts into the back of his head. 

The swordsman sat on the deck, his back resting against the wooden cabin. Hidden from prying eyes, he found peace in the temporary silence. Rare were the times when the crew was so peaceful and it was usually during the night, when they were asleep, because otherwise they would've caused a mayhem. 

The side of his mouth curled upwards at that thought. It was equally annoying and endearing, since in the months spent with them he found a lot of things about himself. Like the fact that he found his crew to be a family, like the way he sometimes found peace even in the chaos caused by them. 

Or like the presence he grew way too fond of along the way. That witch — she truly was one, judging by the effect she had on him. Only a spell could've made his mind get so clouded, only some unknown force could've managed to soften his edges so well. She joined the crew from the first day and he believed that a spell had been casted upon him since the first time they gazed at each other. 

Right. Zoro gulped down. The effect she had on him was equally annoying and pleasant. 

Annoying because he should've focused on his promise to Kuina, not get lost in between fairytales. He wasn't by any means the charming prince riding a white horse and he didn't intend on becoming one anytime soon. It filled him up with feelings unknown to him. Zoro might be a fan of adventures and he had rather insane ideas — as one might say —, but such sentiments were an entirely new path to walk on. 

First and foremost, it bothered him the fact that he wasn't sure he could fulfill both his promises and whatever the fuck was going on between him and the witch. He couldn't pinpoint what was happening, it was all in a blur, even if everything was clearing up whenever he saw her. 

That's when he's reminded why he likes their relationship — what kind of, he didn't know. When he saw her, there were always sparkles in her eyes and the smile on her face would grow wider, lines of happiness appearing on her cheeks. The curl of her lips would make his heart skip a few beats and he would relax his shoulders unconsciously. Eyes filled with joy looked at him as if he was the very reason behind her purest sensations. 

Also, not to mention how warm the depths of his chest felt when she was near. The heat would rise to his cheeks, which he sometimes found uncomfortable, but Zoro never ran away. A side of him wished so badly to go the other way and never look back, ignore her and those stupid damned feelings, but he never gathered enough courage to do so. Every single time, he would remain stuck, with his eyes stuck on her frame and fingers aching to touch and lips tingling to kiss. 

God fucking dammit. 

With a curse rolling off his tongue casually as he closed his eyes, the back of his head collided with the wooden wall he rested his back against. Zoro sat with his knees bent and feet planted onto the floor, only his Wado Ichimoji in his proximity. With its hilt glued to his shoulder, the sheathed sword was in between his fingers. By that time, he held it for comfort.

If that's what he could call it. The swordsman wasn't sure what else to associate it with. Or was it familiarity? The white sword was the only memory he had of a long lost friend and his first home at the dojo, by the side of his sensei. It was the only object tying him to his past, to his beginning, to times when he was much weaker, but determined nonetheless. 

To care about his promise was familiar. Zoro wouldn't give it up — proof was the simple fact that he still achieved to become the strongest swordsman in the world. One day, he will meet Mihawk again and when he does, he will be stronger than the first time he encountered him at Baratie. 

Looking back, it's been so long since. So long since a new life appeared before his eyes and he accepted it with no hesitation. He was a pirate, a Straw Hat, Luffy's first mate. The swordsman swore to help his captain achieve his own dream. 

Those promises were familiar. The erratic heartbeats caused by the witch weren't. The sensation settling in the pits of his stomach when her gentle fingers would brush over his arm weren't. It was foreign and it didn't sit well with him. 

Kuina. 

He still saw her face in his dreams sometimes and it was usually her ghost haunting him. Other times, in her place would be one of his friends and each time it was harder to fall asleep. 

When awake, memories of her replayed so vividly in his mind. Swords clashing together and whistling as they cut the air in half. A grin brightening up Kuina's face when he would fall on his butt and cuss her out again. They promised that one of them would become the greatest, but he was the only one capable of that, because her bones lay in a grave somewhere far away. 

Zoro opened his eyes and stared at the night sky with scars scattered all over it. A calming view, even if there was tumult inside of him, hidden in between ribs that broke with each new pump of his heart. His brown eyes fell to the floor and he crossed his arms on top of his knees, gripping the sword tighter. His chest puffed up with air when he inhaled and he let out a heavy sigh. 

“Zoro?” a soft whisper made him jump out of his thoughts. 

The swordsman snapped his head and he was greeted by the sight of someone he didn't even know he was searching for. A side of him wished to say something along the lines of “fuck off” while the other side desperately wanted to soak into her presence. 

A witch, indeed. 

His eyes ran up and down her figure. She didn't seem surprised to find him there, in a rather hidden spot, which meant she didn't search for too long. Did she even search for him or did she also wish to be alone for a while? The first place to search for someone during night shifts was the crows nest. 

She held two bottles of what he guessed to be alcohol and she swung them carefully before stepping closer. His chest tightened and he found it harder to breathe, even if it was inevitably easier than before at the same time. For some reason, she had that effect on him. 

Maybe he knew that reason all too well, but he just avoided thinking of it. 

“You told me we'd drink something together,” she reminded him in that warm voice of hers. 

The sweet melody that calmed his nerves. 

He didn't know what kind of energy radiated off him, but her behavior was far more gentle than usual. She wasn't hesitant, the witch never hesitated around him, she was just mindful of her actions and words. 

He didn't know why for a second he saw understanding in the curl of her lips when she crouched down. Unconsciously, Zoro knitted his eyebrows together in confusion at her gestures. 

The bottles hit the floor and she let go of them. Her eyes sparkled like they always did, but there was something different that time — a warmth they held only when she comforted Chopper or encouraged Usopp. Warmth similar to the shy rays of the sun of the morning, when the cold is still lingering and there's a specific scent in the air. Gentleness he only ever saw in her, because Luffy's kindness was different. 

A warmth so humane that was visible for the crew alone or those in need of it. 

The witch recognized something in his demeanor and Zoro had no clue what that was about. He could only see it in her gaze. 

“I suppose it isn't really the perfect time for me to butt in, hm?” she whispered. 

Like a promise only for him to hear. A secret. 

“How'd you find me here?” he found himself speaking before he thought it through. 

The question made her shrug. 

“I pick up easily on your energy. It's quite unmistakable, y'know?” 

There it was — one of the main reasons why she had the nickname of Witch both on the ship and outside of it. She's spoken about that for a few times and he had to admit he understood what she meant. However, the swordsman only felt those “energies” (as she liked to call them) in specific moments. He remembers that time in Lougetown when everything felt like energy instead of palpable objects, the reason why he won that fight. 

Sometimes he seriously wondered if she hadn't met his sensei at some point in her life. 

“What is it like?” once again, he asked before thinking. 

The witch pulled her lips in a tight line and hummed, gathering the right words to describe it. Her gaze bounced around and she grimaced once, when she probably found her choice of words to be unpleasant or inappropriate — she always scrunched her nose when it was difficult to find the proper terms. 

“It's sharp, but warm. Kind of steady, constantly flickering. For example, Luffy's energy is always all around the place and Chopper's gets out of control easily. Robin has the steadiest energy of all of us, even if it was kind of… strange lately.” 

Zoro arched his eyebrow at the last piece of information and only received a hand waving through the air. 

“Ignore the last part, I'm still figuring it out myself. No need to worry.” 

The swordsman knew the energy she was talking about was different than what he felt when she was in presence, but he wondered if whatever laid in her heart interfered with her ability to distinguish his being from the others. 

He watched as the witch looked at the bottles next to him and then clicked her tongue, deep in thought. 

“I don't know if they'd help you tonight, but I'll let you be.” 

None of those words were accusatory. They were all coming from a place of kindness and patience. 

Suddenly, her fingers curled around his bicep, below the bandana wrapped around his arm. Skin on skin, her touch was hot and pleasant, even if very confusing. 

What was she thinking? 

His puzzled feelings were written on his face. Uncertainty laid in his dark brown eyes and his fingers held onto the sword tighter. He didn't even notice when the grip on his Wado Ichimoji loosened up. 

Her gaze was reassuring as ever and she gently rubbed her thumb into his tensed muscles. 

Zoro had to at least admit to himself that vulnerability was uncomfortable. Without spoken words, she picked up on it. 

“I don't know for sure if I'll get to sleep tonight, so you could cut your night shift in half.” She's having issues with nightmares again? he silently wondered. “I'll be in my room, reading. Do what you see fit.” 

Instantly, she was back on her feet with her back straight and walked away. The swordsman didn't know what happened or what he should understand. 

He was utterly and completely confused. What just happened? 

Oh. The witch gave him space and time to think. She also told him where she was in case he decided to grip at the promise of comfort and hold tightly onto it. The opportunity laid right in front of him and he was the only one to decide whether he used it to his advantage or not. 

Zoro didn't notice when his shoulders relaxed. His body wasn't as tense as a few minutes ago, his back didn't feel as stiff. The exhale he left wasn't heavy anymore. 

The swordsman knew what this was about. Maybe it was the time to just accept his feelings and get on with it. He had to suck it up and deal with it, even if dealing with her wasn't the right way to word it out. It always felt more like she was dealing with him. 

With closed eyes, he remembered the last time her lips brushed by his. Gosh, it was so hot and his blood was bubbling like lava in his veins. It wasn't an accident, he intended on kissing her back with fever, but he had a hard time accepting everything. It was… weird. Facing that reality was troublesome. 

She has yet to lose her patience. The witch remained firm and each one of her questions were answered by gestures instead of words — something familiar for him. She was far more skilled with expressing herself even when sensitive topics came up. 

That was a miracle. Her presence alone could be compared to a miracle because it was completely unexpected and somehow always caressing him the right way. It was scary how accurately she could read him and the same applied to him. 

The sky before his eyes continued to sparkle with stars and he remained still in his place. His fingers caressed the scabbard of his sword as he blinked in the darkness, the chill air of the night invading his lungs. 

It was complicated and so simple at the same time. Zoro knew the answer — he just had to come to terms with it. 

Just as age promised, the witch sat on the bed in her room with a blanket warming her up. The lamp on the nightstand by her side casted a golden light over the pages of a book sitting in her lap. It was hard to focus on the story — a captivating part of pirate's history, sometime before the appearance of Gold D. Roger.

Her thoughts were followed by the swordsman. Zoro's mood was… sad at best. She didn't expect to find him in that state, but she quickly came to the conclusion that leaving him alone might do him good. 

She tapped her finger over the pages of the old book and clicked her tongue. Was it right to leave him? The witch never saw him in a similar mood and she also realized she didn't know how to help him. There could be a lot of ways to bring him back to earth or at least keep him afloat. Those ways were only known by him. All she could do was guess and hope for the best outcome. 

Heavy footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. When it opened wide, there was Zoro's tall silhouette, his white sword in his hand and one bottle of alcohol in his other. He came closer, his face hard as a stone. The pink hue painting his cheeks was the only detail giving away the fact that he drank one of the bottles she brought hours ago. 

“Why aren't you sleeping yet?” he said with a gruff voice as he plopped down on the mattress. 

There were only a few hours left before the sun would rise up from the sea. 

“You've probably guessed already,” she averted her eyes from his figure. 

“Nightmares again?” 

The witch only nodded, eyes focused on the book. Zoro let the sword against the couch. 

“I won't fall asleep, so you could as well take a night off,” only then she looked at him again. 

His darkened eyes have been locked on her since he entered the valley. The witch wanted to move, to eventually get away from his knowing gaze, but she knew there was no possible way to do it. 

“Are you alright?” she blurted out. 

She had to fill that silence with some kind of conversation. Maybe that wasn't exactly the wisest decision, considering his shoulders visibly tensed and he straightened his back. A frown appeared on her face. She regretted talking. 

The witch figured out he needed more time to sort his thoughts. 

“Why don't you go to sleep?” she tilted her head to the side. “The fight has worn us all out. You could rest for a while.” 

“And you?” 

“We'll be sailing for a few days. I can sleep ‘till afternoon.” 

“Nothing will happen for as long as you're on this ship with us,” the reassurance slipped so easily. “Do you trust us?” 

“More than anything,” the witch responded with a faint smile. 

Several weeks ago, her answer and reaction would've been so different. She made so much progress since she first met them, her trust now fully laying in their palms. Long ago, she would've backed away at such a question and, if they were lucky enough, the witch would admit she “needs time to adjust”. 

At first, all he did was lean close enough for his shoulder to touch hers. The swordsman only intended to enjoy some peace while he shared his booze with the witch. From time to time, she'd gulp from the bottle and then give it back to him before continuing her lecture. After each two minutes, the room would be filled by the rustling of pages. 

It didn't last long until he fell into her trap and tiredness dragged him glued to her. With his head in her lap, Zoro bumped his nose in her thigh. The witch's fingers ran through his hair and he let out an audible exhale, eyes closing instantly. Greeted by darkness, he felt warm not only on the inside. The blanket she curled around herself earlier was now covering his upper body as he sunk into the soft mattress and her. 

One of his hands curled around her knee and he dug his fingers into her flesh. Her leg jerked slightly at the unexpected touch, but when he tried to move away, she muttered a sweet “It's okay”, stopping his movements. 

The oxygen in his lungs was exchanged with her perfume and he bit back a groan. Her voice was like a lullaby, even if there weren't many words rolling off her tongue. Zoro wasn't bothered by the light of the lamp, completely forgetting about the world around him once her fingers continued running through his hair. 

His hand traveled up, until it fully rested on her thigh, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin material of her pants. Truth be told, he's never felt better. 

She was a remedy. His remedy. 

“Good night.”

Zoro heard her whisper solely because he was near her; otherwise he would've confounded it with the night breeze. 

Maybe giving in to her affection isn't that bad. 

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[leafjoon]

Between the lines - pt. II

words: 5k warnings: swearing, alcohol, age gap, slight angst, jealousy, mentions of cheating, smut, spitting, one slap, unprotected sex, daddy kink (barely). its also v fluffy n has aftercare

It was Saturday evening, and you decided to go out with your friends and enjoy yourself a little. You knew you deserved it after the absurd week you had. You finally turned those pages to Alex in time, cramming and staying home almost every night—the assignments you had neglected piled up, and you had to catch up.

But none of that mattered tonight. No, tonight you would have fun with your friends and let loose. Most importantly, you wanted to ignore the desire that had crept up on you for your editor since that night.

"Let's do shots!" your friend Rachel yelled out. You chuckled at her enthusiasm, deciding to join in. "Tequila?" 

"You know it," she replied with a wink. It was half past eleven, and most of you were already drunk.

After you ordered your shots, everyone quickly shot them down their throats, some scrunching up their faces due to the sour taste. "God, this never fails to fuck me up," you said.

As you were listening to Sophie rambling about in her drunken state, you spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye. Squinting a little, you weren't sure if it was him. He looked like one of your ex-boyfriends. You quickly turned, not wanting him to see you.

Things had gone sour with him last year when you found out he had been talking to another girl behind your back. You were stupid to trust him. His lack of insincerity was evident to everyone else but you.

You huffed, not wanting to bring down the mood but getting agitated at the reminder of his existence and the insecurities he had brought out of you.

"Show me your phone," you said sternly, your nostrils flaring up. You felt insane for making such a demand, but your gut told another story.

"What the fuck? You've gone crazy," he said, letting out a chuckle.

"James. Just show me your last text, and we can forget about this. Okay?" you said, pleading with him. You wanted to trust him.

He looked at you, his face laced with guilt, and looked away. "No."

You let out a shaky breath. "Get out," you whispered. You knew exactly what this meant. You felt your chest tighten. 

"What?" he asked, confused and angry.

"Get the fuck out!" you screamed at him, tears forming in your eyes. "I don't want to see you." Your heart was thumping in your chest.

He looked at you and clenched his jaw. Grabbing his coat, he let out a huff of disbelief and left.

“(Y/N)?” Sophie called out your name.

Your eyes, completely zoned out, now focused on Sophie's face. "Huh?"

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"Uh. Yeah. Sure," you said, nodding, trying to be convincing, and taking a sip of your drink.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at you, visibly annoyed.

"Sorry, I'm just drunk," you told her, pouting a little and giving your drink to her as a peace offering.

Your eyes searched for the exit, beckoning you to take a much-needed break outside. A quick smoke and a breath of fresh air sounded good. You weren't a smoker, but this situation called for it. 

"Hey, can I grab a cig?" you asked one of your guy friends, Finn, as you pulled him in for a hug from behind. "Sure," he said, extending his pack of cigarettes to you.

When you went outside, you were met with a cool breeze. You lit up your cigarette, bringing it to your mouth, and felt slightly calmer as you exhaled the smoke.

Suddenly, you heard a voice from behind calling your name. “(Y/N)? Is that you?"

You froze. No. You didn't turn around, hoping he would leave you alone.

"Hey," he approached you with a slight smirk. "Started smoking, huh?"

"No, not really," you said in a dull tone, glancing at him for a split second and then looking away.

"Haven't seen you in a while. How've you been?"

 "Fine, thanks," you replied, slightly turning away from him. You hoped you didn't have to cause a scene to get him to leave.

"What, that's it?" he chuckled.

"I came out here to avoid people, James," you said, looking anywhere but in his direction.

"Come on, lighten up," he rolled his eyes.

Your head snapped. You were about to throw a snarky remark at him when you heard a low voice calling you. “(Y/N).”

When you turned around, a pair of gentle eyes met you. Your face immediately fell into a relieved expression, and you smiled. "Alex?"

James turned to look at him, eyeing him up. As Alex approached the two of you, he sensed your discomfort.

He talked to James and exchanged pleasantries. Alex wanted to snatch you away, not let him have the time of day with you.

"Do you mind if I steal her for a second, mate?" he asked, not waiting for a response. "Sure," James uttered, his intense gaze settling on him.

You and Alex started walking away from him, turning around the corner and settling in an alleyway.

"What a nice surprise." You said, your cheeks flushed. You took note of his appearance. He was wearing a white t-shirt with a brown blazer. His hair styled as usual, with a few strands falling on his face. He looked gorgeous.

"You seemed uncomfortable earlier," he furrowed his brows. "You alright?" he asked, squeezing your arm.

You shivered slightly from his touch. "I-uh. Yeah. Thank you for that. I didn't know how to get away," you admitted.

"Who was that anyway?" he asked, his eyes glued on your face, taking in all your expressions.

"Just some dickhead. You know how terrible college guys are."

He chuckled lightly. "I do. I used to be one."

"Oh, were you also a dickhead?" you joked.

"I don't think so." You laughed. He smiled, admiring you.

"So, you've taken up smoking in the three days we haven't seen each other?" he teased you.

"No," you laughed shyly. "Just really needed one right now."

"Care to light mine then?" he asked, his eyes glinting.

You brought your lighter close to his face, feeling his faint breath on your hand.

"Thanks," he blew the smoke the other way.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, sounding like you were interrogating him.

"Well, you know, sometimes we older people like to go out too."

You laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly.

"No, actually, I was passing through on my way home. Then I saw a familiar little head." 

"Oh. Well, that's lucky," you smiled.

His gaze lingered on you. His pants slightly tightened when he took notice of your flimsy outfit.

You were wearing a thick jean jacket covering your dark blouse. Your breasts peeked out of your top, revealing your supple skin.

Alex felt himself growing jealous, imagining the amount of men that leered at you throughout the night. A beautiful girl like you, he was sure they were foaming at the mouth.

You suddenly felt shy under his gaze and looked away. Your phone vibrated, and you took it out of your pocket, slightly humming.

"Where the hell are u?" Finn had texted you.

You checked the clock, and it was already 12:07 am. You felt a little tired and wondered if heading home would be a good idea.

"Friends?" Alex interrupted your thoughts.

"Yeah. They're wondering where I went." He nodded.

"Think I'm gonna go home, though. I'm getting a bit sleepy," you said, glancing at him and waiting for his reaction.

"Sure." He replied.

You tried again. "You know, the apartment I'm staying at isn't that far from this bar," you looked at him expectantly.

"Would you like me to walk you?" he said softly.

"Sure." You mimicked him.

After saying goodbye to your friends, you returned outside, meeting Alex by the door.

The apartment was only a fifteen-minute walk from there, but it felt much quicker than that. You had good company, after all.

You started shivering a bit, crossing your arms to emit heat.

Alex took notice of that and came closer to you. He removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, one of his hands lingering on your arm.

You felt your body tense at the close contact. He slowly let his hand fall as you were walking.

"Don't you live in a dorm?" he asked.

"I do. I'm cat-sitting for one of my friends. She went to visit her family for the weekend."

He nodded. "Is the cat behaving?"

You chuckled. "He's adorable. You have to see him."

A smile played on Alex's lips as you both arrived at your friend's apartment. The evening had been enjoyable, yet you felt a subtle disappointment as you stood there. You hesitated, not wanting to say goodbye.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked as you met his gaze.

His eyes flickered to yours. Silence stretched between you, and he struggled to find the right words.

"I, uh... It's getting a bit late for me," he finally said, his gaze momentarily dropping.

"Okay," you replied, your gaze shifting downward, a sense of vulnerability washing over you. You handed Alex his jacket, your fingers lightly grazing.

"It was nice seeing you again," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across your face. The touch lingered, leaving a trail of warmth.

"Night, Alex," you replied, your gaze fixed on him. As he turned to leave, the quiet echo of your thoughts filled the space, leaving you to wonder about the possibilities that danced in the corners of the night.

*

As the days passed, you were distracted by endless thoughts about your editor. It became evident, especially during class. Images of his warm smile, big hands, and fluffy hair filled your mind. You felt yourself growing more drawn to him whenever you weren't together.

When your professor dismissed the class, you realized you had been daydreaming about him almost the entire time and scribbling gibberish in your notebook. You let out a long sigh and started gathering your belongings, stuffing them in your bag.

Sophie joined you as you exited the class. "God, can he give us any more assignments?" she let out a huff of frustration. "What assignment?" you asked.

"Didn't you hear him?" she asked. "No," you shrugged.

She laughed. "What were you doing? I kept looking at you, and you seemed so zoned out."

"Oh. Nothing. I was thinking about my novel," you blurted out.

"How's that going, by the way? Is Mr. Turner treating you well?" she asked. 

Mr. Turner. Oh boy. 

"Sure! I mean-yeah, no he's great," you stuttered.

"Okay..." she glanced over to you. "So what are you doing today?" you asked, changing the topic.

You quickly returned to your dorm room, not wanting to run into anyone else you knew. When you entered your room, you kicked off your shoes, threw your bag somewhere on the floor, and flung yourself on your sofa. You groaned. What the hell were you supposed to do with these overwhelming feelings?

Flicking your phone open, you saw a text message from Alex. Your heart started racing. 

Hi. I hope you're well. I will not be available tonight to help with your assignments. Would it be all right if we rescheduled for tomorrow?

You felt a pang of disappointment as you read the text. You had felt so jittery all morning and couldn't wait to see him, and now this. Sighing, you replied to him and immediately texted Sophie. You needed to go out tonight.

*

You made dinner plans with your best friend and decided to try out a new restaurant that had opened downtown. The menu looked amazing, and the prices were pretty decent. Your parents had always been generous with you about money, but you made sure to save and indulge occasionally.

As you entered the restaurant, you felt a warm ambiance enveloped you. The smooth jazz tunes filled the place, and the hostess escorted you to a free table nearby.

When you sat down, you and Sophie excitedly looked through the menu and ordered your drinks and meal. While Sophie was telling you about her latest situationship, your eyes wandered around the restaurant, taking in the beautifully decorated place.

The warm lights cast a beautiful glow on your friend, and you listened as she told you about the intense chemistry she felt with this guy. "Ugh, I don't know, there's just something about him." her eyes sparkled.

"You mean the incredible sex you're having?" you said playfully.

She cracked up. "I mean…among other things."

"So why aren't you making it official?"

"I don't know (Y/N). I'm unsure if I want to be in a relationship right now. It seems like too much work. I got my plate full with everything going on," she sighed.

You nodded, glancing behind Sophie. She continued talking about how he wanted to see her all the time. Wait-You thought you spotted someone. Was that Alex?

Your gaze focused on him. He was seated at a distant table, laughing with the woman beside him. Your mouth slightly dropped, and your eyes fixated on them.

Frozen in your seat, you felt a surge of emotions within you, the sight creating a knot of unease in your stomach. What the hell? Had he canceled on you to go out with some woman? 

You swallowed thickly, and Sophie noticed the change in your demeanor. "Hey, you okay?"

"Uh-yeah," you replied. "Who do you keep staring at?" she said, looking over her shoulder. 

Then she spotted the man who preoccupied your mind. "Oh, is that Mr. Turner? Should we go up to him?"

"No! I mean, he seems busy," you lowered your gaze. 

"Yeah, I guess he's got a hot date," she giggled.

You nodded, taking a large swig of your wine. You prayed he wouldn't see you. The last thing you needed right now was for him to notice how stupid you looked.

You cringed, hearing their distant laughter and shared joy starkly contrasting to the quiet ache that tightened within you.

You decided to distract yourself and urged Sophie to continue telling you about the boy she was seeing. "Well, at least one of us is getting some action," you joked, feeling slightly bitter.

You tried to enjoy your meal and ignore the pit in your stomach. Forcing yourself to focus only on Sophie, you refilled your wine glass and continued talking to her.

Later in the evening, you noticed that their table had become empty. Glancing over, you caught a glimpse of Alex and the woman leaving, and an inexplicable mix of relief and regret washed over you.

You were thankful he didn't see you and talk to you, but at the same time, you couldn't believe he blew you off to go on a date. He didn't owe you anything. After all, he was only your editor.

That night, tipsy and emotional, you stumbled to your dorm room. How were you going to face him tomorrow and ignore your growing feelings? In your drunken haze, you decided that was a decision for sober you to deal with, and you went to sleep, comforted by the spinning room.

*

The next day arrived with a weight on your shoulders that matched the dull ache in your head from last night. As you walked to Alex's place, slightly hungover, the memory of him having dinner with another woman gnawed at your thoughts.

You awkwardly entered his house, exchanged a few words with him, and immediately buried your nose in your assignment, minimizing any chances of small talk. Alex finally spoke up after an hour of you struggling to make any progress.

"Is something the matter (Y/N)?" he asked gently.

"What do you mean?" you mumbled.

"You seem agitated today." He sighed.

"I'm fine," you huffed.

"Are you sure? We aren't getting anywhere with this assignment," he continued, face laced with concern.

You clenched your jaw. How the hell could you? Oh yeah, well, I thought I felt a spark with you, but that went to shit when I saw you having dinner with a gorgeous woman. Not to mention, I'm probably insane for even thinking there was something between us.

You sighed. "Nothing is wrong; let's just finish this," you murmured.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he pressed.

"Why not?" you said, annoyed.

"We've been stuck in this section for an hour. Maybe we should take a break, or you can go home and rest," he replied, his worried eyes meeting yours.

Oh, so now he's kicking me out. Fuck this shit.

"Fine. I'll go," you spat out, getting up and grabbing your papers and notebook roughly.

He stared at you, confused, wondering if he had struck a chord in you.

"Hey," he said gently. "Hold on."

You ignored him and continued gathering your things.

"(Y/N)."

Disregarding him, you shoved everything into your bag.

"Will you stop acting like a brat and tell me what's wrong?" he said, slightly irritated.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Excuse me?" You swallowed thickly. "You wanna know what's wrong?"

You huffed. "I saw you!"

His head tilted in confusion. "Saw me where?"

"The other night, with that woman," you blurted, the words leaving your mouth faster than your thoughts could catch up. 

You continued, "Am I crazy for thinking that- that," you stuttered.

Groaning, you ran your fingers through your hair.

"That what?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," you replied.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice softening, "why are you making such a fuss?"

Your attempts to brush off the situation faltered. "I-" Your voice caught in your throat. "It seemed like you were on a date," you finally said.

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening. "I wasn't on a date. I was catching up with an old friend."

You couldn't meet his gaze, your eyes fixated on your hands. 

The weight of the misunderstanding pressed on your shoulders.

"Why does it matter if I was on a date or not?" he asked, a genuine curiosity in his tone.

"It doesn't. You're allowed to do whatever you want," you whispered.

"But you don't want me to, right?" he pressed, with a hint of concern.

You looked at him, your expression uncertain. "Whatever. I'm gonna go. Please forget I said anything," you mumbled, hurrying towards the exit.

"Hey, hey," he said, grabbing your forearm gently but just enough to stop you. "Is this why you've been so moody and distracted all day? Because you thought I was seeing someone?"

You shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "You canceled our session to see her," you mumbled.

He sighed. "Let's sit down and talk about this, okay?"

You mumbled an 'okay' and followed him to the couch.

He started, "I wasn't on a date, and I certainly don't want you to think I'm not considerate of your feelings. I did cancel our session to see her, and I apologize. She's only here for a few days before returning to Sheffield, where she lives with her husband."

"Oh," you said quietly.

"Maybe I should've communicated better," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"It's fine, I guess," you muttered.

"I'm sorry. You mean a lot to me, (Y/N)," he smiled at you, putting a hand over yours.

He scooted closer to you, his face merely a few inches away from yours, and your breaths mingled in the small space between you. Alex's eyes lingered on your lips.

Your heart started racing. With a slow movement, Alex leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You felt a wildfire of emotions as the kiss intensified, leaving you breathless.

Barely pulling away, he whispered, "How 'bout I show you how I feel about you?"

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your stomach and nodded in response.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours again. His other hand settled on your thigh, his fingertips tickling your skin. His tongue slid against yours, massaging it gently.

He pulled away slightly, panting, "Do you want to go upstairs?" You nodded. 

He dragged you upstairs to his bedroom, the air charged with desire. His eyes were filled with an intensity you couldn't ignore.

Alex's hands found the small of your back, pulling you closer. His lips found yours once again, slipping his tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste him again.

He guided you to his bed, and you sank into the mattress, sprawling beneath him.

He settled on top of you and pressed his body against yours. His nimble fingers squeezed your thighs as his half-hard member rested between your legs. You gasped quietly when you felt him on your arousal, feeling his hot breath tickling your skin.

He sighed as one of his hands found its way to your cheek, grazing it lightly. You felt soft, just like he'd imagined. He gently pressed his lips to yours, and you opened your mouth, your tongues tangling.

You let out a sound when his other large hand came down to caress your waist, settling below your breast.

He broke the kiss with a smack, leaned down, and whispered in your ear, "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart," his words sending goosebumps all over your body.

As he left a trail of hot kisses and bites down your neck, he made sure to suck a spot, marking you. He wanted to ruin you. Pleasure you until he was the only thing on your mind.

"Alex," you sighed, bringing one of your hands to grab his hair, the other settling on his back, gripping the material of his t-shirt.

He smirked against your skin as his big hands roamed your body. He cupped your breasts roughly, pulling a whimper out of you.

Pulling away from your neck, his eyes settled on your face. His fingers flicked your nipples, playing with them. This made your arousal only grow more.

He retreated his hands and took off your shirt slowly, revealing your tits. He hissed, "Fuck. You're stunning," as he caressed your naked breasts. He leaned down to suck softly on one of your nipples.

"A-alex," you whispered, gripping his hair tighter.

He moaned, enjoying it in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. He bit down softly on it, making you gasp and your back arch.

"So stiff," he muttered, making your face heat up. His mouth found your other breast, leaving open mouthed-kisses on it, his lips wrapping around your nipple.

His hand made its way down to the zipper of your trousers, and he asked, "Can I take these off?" 

You nodded, and he slipped them off you, throwing them on the ground.

He towered above you as his hand went down to your delicate panties, rubbing your arousal, feeling your wetness. The sight would be plaguing his mind for weeks on end.

"Already soaked for me, yeah?" He whispered, soliciting a quiet moan out of you. "Hm?" he looked at you. You gulped, "Yes."

He half-grinned as he pushed the thin material to the side and started stroking your slit. "So drenched," he gasped.

Your skin was on fire, and you moaned quietly. He started teasing your entrance and gathered your slick. He then slipped your underwear past your legs, throwing them somewhere on the bed.

"Spread your legs for me, baby," he uttered, and you obliged, feeling shy under his gaze.

He licked his lips at the sight and stroked your thighs tenderly before returning his finger to your clit. He rubbed it softly, emitting soft moans out of you. His other hand crept on your throat, resting there.

"Oh!" You moaned loudly when he found a spot that made your legs shake and started rubbing your clit faster.

He looked at you in awe, his mouth slightly agape. You were adorable, giving yourself to him completely.

He continued rubbing your bundle of nerves, drinking in all your reactions. He slipped a finger, and you threw your head back, gasping softly.

He pumped in and out of you, and his cock twitched in his pants. He felt painfully hard. He slipped in another finger with ease and stretched you out, his knuckles deep inside you.

Curling them inside, he hit a sweet spot that made your eyes roll. "Think you can handle a third one, sweetheart?"

You nodded, whimpering. Alex's hand snaked to your jaw, opened your mouth, and stuck his thumb inside. You made sure to suck on it.

He pushed his finger in, pulling out a loud whine from you and spreading you out like never before.

"Good girl."

He noticed you clenching around his fingers. "Like it when I call you that?"

You nodded. "Well, you have to earn it," Alex said as he fucked you with his fingers. 

Your chest heaved as his other hand went down to your pussy, now playing with your clit.

"Look at you, taking my fingers so well."  

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he continued to pump in and out of you. "Such a perfect cunt," he mumbled to himself.

You grabbed his wrist roughly, signaling to him that you were getting close. He noticed you were clenching his fingers more, and your moans were getting louder.

He slowed his movements and gently slipped his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty.

"Alex…" you whined, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt. Breathing heavily, you looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

"What is it?" he teased you.

"I need you..."

"Need me? For what?" he asked. His cock needed stimulation so badly, but he wanted to make you beg.

You huffed. "I need you to fuck me," you whispered quietly, bringing him closer. "Daddy," you whispered.

He groaned, "Fuck. You're so greedy. Can't be satisfied with what I give you, huh?" he asked, unzipping his trousers, slipping out of them.

You started unbuttoning his shirt quickly, tossing it to the ground. Alex sighed as you roamed your hands on his toned chest.

He removed his boxers swiftly, exposing his thick cock, precum pooling on the head already.

You bit your lip as your hand went down to his member, stroking it, earning a few moans out of him.

He pulled your hand away after a few minutes and grabbed his member, positioning it near your entrance.

He teased your folds with his cock, gathering your wetness and rubbing your clit, letting out soft moans. 

He then tapped your entrance and started entering you slowly, filling you to the brim, the sensation bringing tears to your eyes.

You gasped and closed your eyes. Alex grabbed your cheeks. "Look at me," he said hoarsely.

You wrapped your hands around his back and pulled him flush against your chest. 

He started moving slowly, letting you get used to the stretch of his cock.

"F-fuck. You feel amazing," he stuttered.

You barely managed to keep your eyes open. You felt so full of him.

Your breaths mixed together, and you pleaded, "Faster, please," he obliged, fucking you faster, making you whimper loudly.

"You look so pretty, taking my cock," he soothed as he slammed his hips into yours, making you gasp.

It felt so good you couldn't contain any of your whimpers and moans. Filthy squelching noises filled the room, making you even more wet around him.

Your sweaty bodies were pressed against each other, and he engulfed your senses. He grabbed one of your breasts roughly, massaging it as his pace became fast and steady, fucking you deliciously.

You felt so fucked-out, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head repeatedly. You felt desperate for him. As he hit a delicious spot inside, you repeatedly cried out his name.

"That's it, baby, scream my fucking name."

He held you close to him as he slammed his cock in and out of you, making you feel every inch of it. He grabbed your jaw and ordered, "Open your mouth."

You did as told, your tongue peeking out, slightly panting. He pursed his lips and spat roughly on your tongue, uttering, "Swallow."

You swallowed, whining, and sank your nails into his back.

"Such a slut for me," he hissed.

You moaned loudly, clenching on his cock uncontrollably. You felt yourself approaching your climax, and he could feel it, too.

"What? You wanna cum?" he teased you.

"Please," you begged, nearing your release for the second time.

"Gonna have to do better than that, love," he replied, slowing down a little.

"Alex, please," you whined. "Don't stop. I need you," you pleaded with him pathetically.

"Do you, now?" he asked, stopping abruptly. He grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him.

"No!" you whimpered, your chest heaving. "I'll be so good. Just let me cum."

"Where?" he asked in a husky tone.

"I-," you stuttered. 

"Go on, say it," he encouraged you.

"On your cock," you whispered, flushed.

He grunted, "Good girl," his hand immediately going to your pulsating clit. His other hand smacked your cheek harshly.

You whined, tears gathering in your eyes while reveling in the stinging feeling. Cupping it gently, Alex alleviated the pain a little.

"It's alright, princess," he soothed, leaning down to capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

He started fucking your drenched pussy at a fast pace, making you see stars. As he grabbed your waist for leverage, you felt overwhelming pleasure pooling in your abdomen.

Your orgasm was building quickly, ready to snap at any moment, as he thrust into you repeatedly. Your legs were wrapped around him, needing him as close as possible.

His movements were becoming sloppy, an indication of his own climax approaching. Your skin was ablaze, and the way he was moaning was making you delirious.

"Cum on my cock, sweetheart," he said.

"Fuck, Alex!" You screamed and felt waves of pleasure spreading throughout your body as you orgasmed on his cock, convulsing. You were whining uncontrollably.

Your nails were digging into his arm, surely breaking the skin, but you were too cock-drunk to care.

"Fuck, your cunt is so tight," he groaned as he struggled to thrust into you. It only took him a few more thrusts for him to cum inside you, letting out a drawn-out moan.

His hot load completely filled you up, his jaw hanging slack. After he emptied inside you, he collapsed on top, burying his face in your neck.

As you both came down from your high, he pulled out of you gently. He couldn't help but look down at your pussy, admiring the mess he made out of you.

He loved the way his cum seeped out. No one could have you now.

He laid down beside you and stroked your waist. "You alright?" he uttered.

You were still catching your breath and opened your eyes slowly. "Yes," you sighed.

You turned your back to him, feeling exposed. You were still trying to figure out what to do now. Should you…leave or stay? Your thoughts were interrupted by him as he pressed his body against yours and draped an arm over you.

"We should get you cleaned up," he whispered, kissing your shoulder, his arm stroking your stomach.

"Okay," you whispered.

"Want me to draw us a bath?" he asked.

"I love baths…" you muttered.

He chuckled. "Perfect." He pressed a kiss to your head and headed for the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water reached your ears, and you sat on the bed.

Alex returned with a tender expression. He extended his hand, inviting you to join him in the bathroom.

You felt a bit shy, especially since you were still naked and not hazed by your lust anymore. Alex made sure to hold onto your hand, which reassured you.

You stepped on the cool tiles, and Alex asked, "You want bubbles?"

"Yes," you murmured. 

After a few minutes, you eased yourself into the hot water, and so did he, sitting on opposite ends of the bath.

The water had a comforting effect on you as your body melted into it. Alex broke the silence. "Why are you so far away?"

"I don't know. Why are you?" you replied. "Come here," he said, extending his arms to grab yours and turning you around, pressing your back to his naked chest.

You settled yourself between his legs, relaxing against his body, and he wrapped his arms around you. "Why'd you get all shy on me now? You were yelling at me an hour ago," he chuckled.

"I wasn't yelling at you," you furrowed your brows, growing defensive. "I'm just teasing," he whispered close to your ear.

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever," you puffed. "Why are you getting so defensive?" Alex said, holding you tighter. 

"Because, I have no idea what this means now," you mumbled.

He smiled, sensing your uncertainty. "Well, what I do know is care about you and…would love to take you out sometime. And do this again," he said, kissing your cheek.

"Me too," you replied, your cheeks flushed.

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm."

"Why don't you stay the night? It's getting late anyway."

"It's like 8 pm, Alex."

"Exactly. So late," he replied.

You laughed. "I have nothing to wear to bed nor do I have a toothbrush," you protested.

"I can give you a t-shirt. They'll look better on you anyway. And I'll go to the shop and buy you one. How's that sound?"

You giggled. "Okay, you've convinced me."

Leaving the bath, the air between you and Alex felt different, as if the weight of unspoken tensions had been washed away. Wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels, you talked to him effortlessly and discussed what you should eat for dinner.

The decision to spend the night together unfolded effortlessly, and you decided to get some Chinese take-out and watch a chick flick.

Later in the night, you found yourself nestled on Alex's big, comfortable bed and drifted off to a dreamless slumber, comforted by the presence of the man spooning you.

[bonny-kookoo]

Anything bonny baby, I recently watched Bam House? I don't remember the name but he managed to invite Taeyeon over and act all giddy and cute for having her. I can't help but that reminds me of baby darling jungkook when she's around him 🔮🎄

Baby Darling kook is WAY worse haha!

Jungkook is already quite a bit to handle. But drunk Jungkook, definitely is a handful.

He's clingy, that's a fact, constantly seeking some sort of physical contact. And he's smiling, laughing a lot, continuously making random compliments. "What kind of skincare do you use?" He wonders, running his hands shamelessly over your legs beneath your loose sweatpants. "You skin is so soft, it's insane!" He hums, before he yawns so hard his eyes tear up a little.

"I think it's my bodyscrub." You giggle, before you move, causing him to whine in protest, hands clinging to your shirt to keep you on the couch. "Jungkook you're sleepy-"

"Nooo, I'm fully awake, I swear, let's stay up longer!" He complains, before he has to yawn once more.

"No, let's go to bed." You deny, making him huff and boldly throw himself over your lap, arms wrapping around you as he hides his face against your stomach.

"No, then it'll be tomorrow." He hums. "And that means I have to go home again.." he complains, and you place a hand on his shoulder.

"But you can visit me?" You wonder.

"Yeah but that's not like now!" He responds, upset. "Right now it's all.. I don't know." He huffs, holding you close.

"What's.. making you so clingy right now?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

He's been pining after his long term crush for so long that he's not really.. let himself experience anything like he does right now. He's not had someone sleep next to him like you did last night, cuddle with him on the couch. Wear his clothes, or just.. exist so closely to him like you are right now.

And he's become addicted to this. The closeness, the physical affection, the smiles and the warmth and the smell of you. Should he be worried?

No. He realizes what this actually is.

"I think I have a huuuge crush on you, you know?" He suddenly laughs, turning around to just have his head in your lap, looking up at you as you run your hand through his hair.

"Huh?" You wonder, and he nods, grinning.

"I do." He hums. "You're soo pretty." He giggles.

"Alright, time to go to bed now." You shake your head laughing, pushing him playfully so he's forced to sit up, before you turn off the TV and hold out your hands for him to grab. He does- swaying a bit, before he holds you close- just hugging you in the middle of your living room, quietly enjoying your company.

"I really like you." He mumbles into your neck. "I mean it. It's not just the beer talking." He confesses.

"..then tell me tomorrow again, when you're sober." You say, hands on his back. "So I can believe you."

"I will." He leans back, nodding determined.

"And I'll tell you every day after that as well, so you won't forget."

[sehodreams]

thoughts on dark rich riize buying reader in a human trafficking black market. the reader legally belongs to the buyer.

Damn I like the concept, these are the ones who came to my mind (sorry for the others I couldn't imagine)

Lol not me searching "how do a black market look like? for writing purposes not for illegal purchases" to understand how it worked HAHAHAAHAAHAHA

TW and tags: smut, oral sex (m receiving), dubcon, noncon, slapping, overstimulation, hints of sadism, dom!riize, I can't remember how all the nasty stuff here is called so if someone told me I'd be grateful 🤣

Eunseok

He'd be warm, like, you felt scared to be there, but he'd always talk to you softly, telling you how much he enjoyed your company, your presence, and how beautiful you looked with his gifts.

He'd buy you everything that reminded him of you, his little doll.

He'd be just so nice, soft touches and multiple kisses in day light, but when the night came, you were scared of who would you with that night, would it be your soft owner? Or the other guy? The guy who slapped your face and left hand marks on your neck, or that would sometimes go crazy and let candles drip over your back when he fucked you from behind.

You could never predict what would happen, and he would always repeat the same thing "my doll", because he had to make sure you understood that, you just were his pretty, warm and soft doll.

Wonbin

Wonbin always looked so sweet, he gave the prettiest smiles when he was on those video conferences for work, and you saw him being so kind to others, so why couldn't he be that nice to you?

You'd watch him from your cage, always in front of him, to be comforted with your presence and on his watch to know your every move. You had tried to escape three times, and those were already too many times for him to ever trust you again, so your punishment was to always be behind those bars the time he decided.

He'd let you roam around mostly at night, when he felt like having you even closer, his chest on your back while playing with your little bud, fucking you over the same table you had dinner, or making you suck him after you had your daily bath.

Now, he was pushing the vibrator to your dripping cunt, making you cum until you cried and made a mess over his expensive couch after you told him you wanted to leave after he asked you what would you like for your first month anniversary there.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you'd repeat, crying of overstimulation after your third orgasm.

"I don't think you're sorry enough" he'd smile, whispering to your ear, to then leave pecks over all over your neck. "You need to learn that you're not a guest here, you're my property, so you better get used to your new life"

Anton

You had no family and no friends, so you were the perfect target for the people that took you from your little apartment in the middle of the night, no one asked for you, your coworkers quickly forgot about your existence and then you just... Disappeared. So, when he bought you, you didn't put much fight, tired of your old life, maybe that would be the best, you thought.

There, with him, at least you had a much nicer home, a hot meal every day and what you always wanted, a person to depend on. So, what if he made you wear a collar with his name all the time? And what if you had to wait for him to feed you because if not he'd get angry? You didn't want to make him angry, you wanted to always see that pretty smile telling you how good you were, "such a good girl" he'd say every time you let him take off the little clothes he let you wear, putting his dick inside you when you watched his favorite programs, or when he was playing those silly games that made him insanely rich.

And sometimes he was more than nice, like when he took you shopping in the middle of the night to those stores you couldn't afford in your old life with your disgusting minimum wage, buying you all the food and clothes you'd ever want and need.

And what if those nights he made you walk with a leash? You'd do it all again if you could always be with him.

Shotaro

He was so nice most of the time, buying you expensive dinners, letting you cuddle beside him, making sure you had everything you'd ever need, you ended appreciating him.

It was hard at first, to get used to that lifestyle, not being able to leave the apartment, to lose all contact with your family and friends, even to endure his touches, but you had to get used to it, he was clear when you arrived, the only thing he expected from you was to look pretty, not talk and welcome him with open legs every time he needed.

When you refused at first you had it bad, he'd starve you, talk to you coldly and take you with force, but when you learned how to be the little angel he needed, everything got better, his hands wouldn't furiously touch you anymore, instead he'd caress you with them, touching the little place that got addicted to his attentions, and who needed to talk? now all you needed inside your mouth was his cock when he came after a long day of work, to thank him for everything he did for you

[bartonbones]

i want to say it louder than in the tags but the way the poison scene is like. yes inej's deepest desire is to be known and to be trusted and to know and to trust and to be disarmed and to disarm someone else and most of all for someone to ask permission and wait for her to grant it, and that she wants that person to be kaz, but she knows it's a dream because she knows kaz isn't ready to do that yet, and even if she's dreaming, even if it's in her own head, she refuses to force him...she'll wait for him, she'll wait for him for longer than she should but she's not going to force him, ever, even in her own dreams, because she knows what that feels like--so she wakes up, she fights it, i love that she's the only one who is able to do that, the only one who has mastered herself enough to recognize when a dream is a dream who has the agency and the strength and desire to live for herself and make her own choices and take her own power even when there is no one there to take it from...

and then for her to know that kaz is going to have to be touched against his will, and to know that she's the one who has to do it, and the fact that it's true, that she's the only one kaz would let pull him out of that--because at the end of the day all this self-mastery and agency and power that kaz brekker forces himself to believe that he has pales in comparison to the woman who has been through unimaginable violations and yet reclaims her own body and her own physicality, even though it has been every bit as hard for her as it had ever been for him, becuase at the end of the day inej is the only person he trusts understands that in himself, that weakness that sits just beneath the surface, and the only person who understands how to protect it, who might, even, one day, understand how to heal it...

the fact that for a few seconds, in-between the past and the present, in-between life and death, kaz brekker feels someone touching him and is relieved when he sees that it's her. for a few seconds that trust and that love and that understanding breaks through the panic and she holds him, just for a second, and for a just second kaz brekker remembers that touch can be a comfort, can be a respite, can be something that reminds you there is something outside of your fear rather than being the epicenter of it...

and then it's gone. it's gone and he panics and it's too much and he stands up and he doesn't look at her and he lies about what he saw, becuase it's always going to be two steps forward one step back with these two, but that moment was there, and it existed, and for maybe the first time he really can connect this idea, that there is a future for him and touch, just like there was a future for inej, and that there could be a future for them both, and does he want that? does he? he wants--he wants-- etc. etc. and so forth i'm going insane

[yuanology]

You write for jjk right? So tender/soft sex w Gojo ,like imaging him actually having scars yknow with this “I’ll kiss all the scars on your skin” ,I’m down bad for that man ,like he is secretly begging for someone to praise him in the way he deserves yknow ,that man needs someone to love the weak and hurt gojo behind his facade of the strongest 😩😩😩 im going insane 🐸

yes, i do write for jjk and yes, i do write for gojo satoru and yes, i am going fucking feral

gojo satoru who finds his scars to be a sign of his failure as the strongest, a reminder of all of the people whom he failed to protect. he treats each scar not as a trophy of his survival but rather as a sign of weakness. a foolish thought, truly, but even the strongest has his faults at times.

( and there is a reason, after all as you so often joke, why he is called the strongest and not the wisest )

it's rare that you have the time to simply exist together and so, you both try and take as much advantage of it as possible. on the times when you can linger, you always do. even as he begs for you to go faster, tells you over and over again that he can take whatever you give him, that he won't break, but you still go slow. you ensure that he stays still — not that it takes much convincing; all you have to do is ask and he's eager to be your good boy. wanna be your good boy. am i your good boy, yet? — and that he feels every inch of you all over him.

this is one of the rare occasions in which satoru is self-conscious of himself, and you're more than aware of that. so, you ease him into it. first, you keep yourself quiet — easier to be agreed to if you don't give anything to rebuke — choosing instead to focus all your attention on kissing him all over. his throat, his lips, his cheek, his eyelids, his chest, his tits, his stomach, his thighs, his calves, everything. satoru, ever the perfect, pliant boy that he is for you, never tries to stop you. his muscles strain from his efforts to keep still, to take everything you give him, but he's so good at it that you barely even notice. you're too busy peppering kisses all over, hands on his skin so that you can feel more of him.

only once he's calmed down, used to the feeling of your mouth on him, do you begin to talk. you've learned a long time ago that a man like gojo satoru may preen under the attention, but the lonely boy in satoru will always shy away from honest compliments. so, you have to find another way to appreciate him without having him shrink away from you.

so, you kiss his hips, turning a blind eye on the way his breath hitches as your thumb brushes along a dent on his skin there, and you softly murmur, "you're so pretty." right against his skin.

so, you kiss the scar over his chest, right above where his heartbeat echoes through his ribs, ignoring the way he squirms and his gaze averts from you, and you tell him, "your heart's pounding, baby."

so, you kiss at the inside of his thigh, pretending not to feel the way his thighs tremble when you press a little too hard on an old jagged mark on his skin there, and you whisper, "you're so damn perfect." and you forget to tell him that you don't mean it in the way that he's the strongest, but because he's your satoru, but you know that he understands it all the same.

so, you kiss the most recent scar on his throat, the one from one close call or another, and you catch his chin in your hand and force him to meet your gaze so that he listens when you say, "i'm glad you came home."

sex with satoru after that is never the rough, harsh tumble that you would often do when you're chasing after time and desperate to have each other one last time. it's never just a good fuck, one with greedy hands and very little devouring mouths.

sex with satoru after that is always slow, tender, as if you're trying to meld your bones with each other until your entire existence becomes one and the same. it's always nails digging into your back, satoru's low sobs echoing in your ears, and your mouth peppering kisses and gentle worship against his skin.

the world can have tough, perfect gojo "the strongest" satoru.

but you?

you'll have scarred, beautiful, vulnerable satoru, and that is all the more precious.

[caxycreations]

TADC spoilers below the cut

I'm calling it now, Kinger is the inventor of the Circus and the headset.

EVIDENCE:

Jax said Kinger had been there the longest

His "body" is a King chess piece in a noble garb, and his wife was a Queen chess piece. That can't be coincidence. It would be WAY too convenient for the guy who RANDOMLY got a King body just so happened to love the gal who RANDOMLY got a Queen body. I think they CHOSE their bodies, as the creators of the program.

He is, again, the King chess piece. I think he chose this for himself as a reminder that he's in charge of the program; a reminder his insanity has taken the meaning away from.

He was explaining how "hunger" and "eating" work in the digital world to Jax, who asks "When did you become an expert on the digital world, huh?"

The last example, paired with Episode's 3 side-comment of "7 years of computer science for this!" from Kinger tells us he DOES have, in theory, the technical skill to create the circus.

This one may be a stretch, but Caine doesn't seem to react to Kinger much at all. Pomni, Jax, Ragatha, even Zooble, have all been given ample attention by Caine, but he almost...doesn't seem to acknowledge that Kinger even exists. Like he doesn't WANT to acknowledge it.

So here's what I think happened:

Kinger and Queenie worked together to create TADC, as an escape (either temporary or permanent) from their day-to-day stresses. After becoming trapped there (either on purpose or as a glitch in their work), they made the best of it.

They made a home there, and Caine served as entertainment and butler of sorts. But his core programming was to provide adventures and fun, which Kinger and Queenie weren't doing as much as he'd like.

I think Caine is the reason Queenie abstracted; I'm betting he did something, set them off on a tailor-made adventure designed to break her spirit.

So with her abstracted, Kinger went insane. Caine probably intended to abstract them both, but either due to realizing he'd have nobody to "entertain" or due to an inability to go against his creator, he couldn't go through with it.

So now Kinger's crazy, he's lost it, and the only thing that brings back his sanity is darkness. So what does Caine do? He keeps the circus as well-lit as possible. He keeps it bright, shiny, colorful, to keep Kinger insane.

Notice that the path Ragatha, Jax, and Gangle went with on this latest adventure, it was well-lit and playful?

I think that path was intended for Kinger. I think the little ghost Jax kills at the start was meant to direct Kinger to the "peaceful" path, regardless of who went with him, and anyone else would have gone to the dark path.

Even in episode 1, Caine inadvertently steals Kinger's darkness away through the actions of the Gloinks, who take away all of the pillows of his pillow fort.

Even in the cave below the circus, it's lit up enough that Kinger can't retain his sanity, even if only barely.

My bet is that as the series continues, we'll learn a LOT more about Kinger, and Caine will wind up being a legitimate antagonist, not just an annoying protagonist.

I'm calling it now; there IS a way out, but Kinger's forgotten it (maybe he knew, but when Queenie abstracted he initially chose to stay for lack of reasons to leave, and has since forgotten due to his insanity) and Caine is obscuring it at every turn.

Only time will tell, but...I do truly think Kinger is the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus, and I believe Caine knows this, and does everything in his power to keep Kinger crazy.

Also, side note, how fucked up is it that Kinger's memory only lasts in the darkness, and his quirk from holding his breath is that he shines like the sun?

[thecluelessdoctor]

a review of Gravity falls from someone who had never seen it before.

Alright so I've meant to make this post for a while but then I got... sidetracked *glances at my fucking au* ANYWAY

I'm basically unbias to the show, due to the fact I have no nostalgia for it. Ill only be talking about the show it's self for the main review.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way, let's talk about Gravity Falls.

Oh yeah, and spoilers for gravity falls. Im sure most of you have seen it but- yk just in case.

I watched the show 2 times in a row. One time mostly just for me, and the other time with my little sisters. Somehow both times made me cry it's fine.

Let's get my praises out of the way first before I begin to criticize the show (yes, I do have things to say)

Number one, the actual mystery. Genuinely so fucking good. Like going in I already knew Ford existed, and I knew Bill existed, but that was it. And I thought the mystery wouldn't be a mystery to me due to this but I was WRONG. BRO WHEN STAN FUCKING PULLED UP WITH THE PORTAL I WAS F L A B B E R G A S T E D. I WAS BAFFLED. OR OR- FIDDLEFORD NOT JUST BEING A CRAZY OLD GUY BUT INFACT A ONCE GREAT SCIENCIST THAT TRIED TO DESTROY HIS MIND- it was insane.. I only had the parts, but I didn't know how they fell into place, and it was BEAUTIFUL. Hell the mystery even had my little sister theorizing.

Stan, Dipper, and Mabel's arcs. Say what you will but I think they were done perfectly. Especially Stan's. You don't even realize how he has grown as a character until the end and it's AMAZING. Dippers arc of learning how to not grow up so fast (relatable ...) and Mabel's arc of accepting that she will grow up (ALSO RELATABLE?)

The character designs. We all know, I eat up a good design. And these guys are no exception. I love how Mabel has a different sweater at least every episode, very fun. Dippers design screams nerdy kid I would bully or be friends with in 6th grade, and Stan is.. yeah I really like Stan okay. He's perfect. His design reflects his eccentric nature really well. Also Shriner fez. We need more characters with a Shriner fez. (Fun fact: I didn't know what those hats were called until watching this show.) bill is a very simple design but I love it.

Also, I love alot of the foreshadowing the show does, even if at times unintentionally. Such as with Stan and how he sadly goes out. Every representation ends up being destroyed in some way.

I also really like Ford as a character. Idk if it was intentional, but he portrays a lot of narcissists rather accurately. I live in a family of narcissist, and a lot of them act directly like Ford (especially my dad and my ex-step- grandpa) but Ford I feel like is a good representation of how a lot of people, especially narcissists, actually change. Yes, shockingly, they can. Usually being the one to pull the trigger on something they love tends to do something. Not all the time but it happens. Idk.

Also I feel like I need to talk about Mabel and Dipper more. Starting with Mabel. Mabel is fun. She reminds me of my sister, both good and bad. Though I don't understand the amount of Mabel hate there is. Like seriously she's just a 12 year old kid. I was the same way when I was 12. I was a trashy kid. Hell, I'm a trashy teen!!! And Dipper? Yeah he's dipper. Shockingly I don't have much to say about him other than the fact he reminds me way to much of the guy friends I've had since 3rd grade lmfao.

Next is the animation. The animation is pretty consistently good, I like it. Especially in some of the more dramatic scenes. All of not what he seems, a tale of two Stan's, and weirdmeddon (I can't spell) are especially well animated.

There's a lot more i wanna say, but those are the major things.

From now until when I say, it's gonna me my personal criticisms of the show. Course I am no professional, I'm literally [AGE REDACTED] minor. So yeah.

Number one: the timeline. Oh my god the timeline. As a fun thing to do on the side, I tried to sort out the timeline- IT TURNED INTO 2 HOURS OF ME SITTING THERE, PIECING THIS SHIT TOGETHER. it's not as back as some fandoms (looking at your FNaF) but STILL

The lack of Ford. I wish Ford has been introduced earlier in season two, or they had a few more filler episodes involving him as a center (similar to the episode D, D, and more D.)

The ignoring of the fact that Pacifica is borderline abused??? She's AFRAID of her parents??? She flinches at the bell??? Like what the fuck-

The lack of in show development between Bill and ford. I kinda wish it showed a bit more of their relationship in show.

Those are all my major criticisms. I don't have anything other than those that aren't more personal tastes than anything.

But ultimately, I fell in love with this show from the get go. It was the weirdest thing I'd watched in a while, and I loved it, hated it, and cried because of it. Truly on of my favorite shows I've ever watched, and I really wish I knew what it was when it was in its hay day, because truly that would have been great. However in 2012 I was only like- 3-6 so- yeah

Very much a ten outta ten show, and if you somehow haven't watched it, please do.