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ittybittyfanblog · 3 days ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry. (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment.

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream.

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off.

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black.

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications.

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending.

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts.

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

… You cave on the fifth day.

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment]

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours.

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me.

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word.

Dont shut me out.

Please.

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams.

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them.

You set your phone down.

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops.

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered.

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb.

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling.

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out.

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space.

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then.

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow gray.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll.

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will.

––––

“Hey, you okay?”

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Anytime, darling.

I mean it.

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?”

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store.

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath.

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent.

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain.

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor.

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back.

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most.

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make.

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes.

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button.

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless.

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision.

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized.

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing.

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does.

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope?

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far.

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin.

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red.

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark.

And unread mail. So much unread mail.

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you.

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you.

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being.

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps.

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red.

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues:

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating.

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you?

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break.

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you.

You’re afraid of what’ll come next.

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him.

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you.

As if he’d allow such a thing.

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

…

And just like that, he concedes.

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other.

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even.

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?”

“Of course.” Whatever you want.

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head.

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart.

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound.

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him.

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other.

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact.

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched.

“My lo—”

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.”

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt.

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?”

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?”

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine.

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily.

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke.

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption.

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks.

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape.

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling.

I love you.

I love you in ways that consume me.

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you.

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.”

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop.

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading.

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone.

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.”

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise.

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?”

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did.

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his.

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.”

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time.

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent.

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating.

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you.

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours.

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days ago

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⋆｡𖦹 if you wanted to kill Bill, this might do it °⭒˚

somewhere in the woods, you take everything from Bill Cipher by loving Stanford Pines

tags: nsfw, smut, Ford Pines x fem reader, angst, fluff, vaginal & oral sex (m receiving), voyeurism, praise kink, when you hate your man’s toxic ex so much you use his statue as a bed frame, i wrote this to spite Bill Cipher

Ford has never been this weak in his life.

Above, somewhere in the tangled branches, birds chatter and sing, oblivious to what you're doing with your scientist. The leaves rustle from the wind as golden sun drips through the canopy. But down here, where you kneel in the warm dirt, Ford is loosing his smart mind.

It all started with your feigned surprise. “Stanford Pines, tell me, what does my dress have to do with topography?”

“Its not what- It’s-! Oh, hell.”

The woods are golden in the late afternoon light, it’s warm, honeyed summer and everything is moving through syrup.

“Oh, god,” he's already ruined, god bless him. ”this is- this is entirely unnecessary, we could’ve waited until we returned to— ahh—” says the man who got so distracted because he kept catching glimpses of your thighs every time the breeze lifted your dress.

You interrupt him, pressing your tongue to the sensitive tip of his cock and the sound is so pretty, so pathetic, that you moan softly against him just to hear it again.

He's never known a greater pleasure than your hands on him.

His head tilts back, exposing the cut of his throat, the sharp bob of his adam’s apple. Such a mess already, his chest rising too fast beneath his sweater. His six fingers twitch as he wants to grab your hair but doesn’t dare to, always so careful, so controlled.

Meanwhile you keep your hands on his thighs, pressing your nails into the fabric of his pants, and Ford jolts at the sensation, at the impossible warmth of your wet mouth around him. You squeeze him a little tighter, just to see how much he can take.

Ford bucks forward involuntarily, moaning so sweetly, so needy, and oh, god, you feel yourself getting wetter from just the sound of him.

He is shaking and his breath is uneven, back pressed against the rough bark of the tree, he grips at it helplessly, desperately trying to silence himself, but there’s no holding on, no steadying himself. Not when you’re doing this to him.

“S-Sweetheart—” he gasps, cracking on your name. “oh, you— you’re—” he wants to say something smart, something clever, of how you shouldn't be doing this here, but his mind is nothing but white noise and you know it, because when you take him deeper, let him hit the back of your throat just to hear him sob, he actually whimpers.

His hips jerk and he immediately grips the bark harder, forces himself to still. Poor Ford, trying so hard to be good. You press your nails deeper into him, warning him, slowing down to make him squirm, determined to make him louder.

Ford groans, lets his head thump against the tree. You’re torturing him. “dont t-tease. . .”

You’re taking your time, savoring this moment, savoring him, moving in slow, teasing strokes. When you pull off with a sloppy, wet sound and your breath fan over him, pressing a gentle kiss to the flushed tip, Ford looks down at you with question on his flushed face.

“So quiet.” you murmur, nuzzling against his length, feeling the heat of him against your skin, the soft press of his cock against your cheek.

Ford’s gives you an awkward tiny smile. “well, we are in the middle of a forest, darling, i-i can’t exactly—” he blinks, panting, glazed eyes locking onto yours, hoping you'll understand.

No, you dont. “but i want to hear you.” you lick a slow stripe up his length, and Ford bites his knuckles, because that's too sexy for a nerd like him. No one, no fucking one had ever done that to him. He tries to muffle the soft, helpless groan that escapes him, tries to stay quiet by biting at his own skin, fingers.

You stop immediately, frowning up at him.

He gasps in disappointment, blinking down at you, disoriented. “wh- but why did you—?”

You press your cheek to the side of his cock, again, pouting. “i told you, Ford,” look up at him through your lashes. “let me hear you.”

Stanford lets out a breathless mix of a laugh and a groan, tilting his head back against the tree in defeat, taking a deep breath. “darling, you're going to destroy me.” but you know that tone of his, he can't argue back, because he's ready to do anything for his beloved.

Satisfied with your victory, you take him into your mouth, feeling the way his thick cock twitches on your tongue, filling your mouth so perfectly. You work him slow, gripping his base with your free hand.

Ford whimpers, slapping one hand over his mouth before he remembers, remembers your request, remembers that you want to hear him.

He drops his hand, exhales sharply and finally moans. God, he's so beautiful like that, face contorted in pleasure, brows knit together, lips parting, whole body shakes under your touch. You, you, you, all because of you. He’s so damn gorgeous, so vulnerable like this and you can’t help but feel that ache, the deep ache of needing to please him, of wanting to worship him, all of him, your lovely scientist.

“My brilliant girl,” he groans, adoring. “oh, sweetheart, my love, my love, please—“ you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, swallowed him whole, greedily, as if he is the last thing you'd ever taste and Ford practically sobs. “feels good, can’t— i can’t! if you keep going, i won’t last.”

“So good for me, Ford,” you praise him, dragging your warm tongue along his length slowly. “so brilliant,” smiling, you wrap your hand around the base, pumping him lazily what makes Ford let out the most pathetic desperate sound imaginable. “so handsome,” and when you reach the sensitive spot just beneath the head, he nearly folds.

“Darling, oh, oh, oh—!” you hum against him, because you can feel the way he’s straining to hold himself back, to keep from just snapping his hips forward and fucking your mouth properly. Ford wants it, needs it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it, he wants to pull you closer, wants to thrust deeper, but he also wants to let you do whatever you want to him.

He wants to stay like this forever

But Ford is Ford, always so polite, so careful, gentle, even like this. And you love him for it

“You can move,” you murmur sweetly as you take him back into your mouth.

Ford curses, exhales a trembling breath, but his hips roll forward hesitantly. Six fingered hands finally leave the tree, sliding into your hair, unsure, scared to hurt his lovely girl. He holds your head, guiding himself into your warm mouth, finally losing that last shred of restraint.

And you love it, love how helpless and horny he is, completely at your mercy, how his whole body shakes just from the feel of your mouth. His body overriding his poor, struggling self-control.

You relax into it, adjusting to his pace, letting him use your mouth to satisfy himself, letting him set the pace.

“Ohh, you feel. . . you feel so good, taking me so well!” Ford thrusts into your mouth again and he’s moaning, groaning, whimpering your name like it’s holy. Your hands slide down, one still pumping around the base. Then Ford chokes on his next breath when your fingers trace along his balls, tears in the corners of his eyes as he gazes down at you, completely undone.

“Ohh, oh— oh, love, oh, mhmm—” his knees nearly give out, Ford tenses, head tilting back, jaw slack, eyes squeezed shut, his thighs tremble, his stomach tightens and he knows, he knows, he knows that he's right at the edge. “oh, too much! I c-can’t—”

Slickness trails down your own thighs, you're dripping, feeling your own need building just from the taste of him, the sounds of him, the way he whispers your name like a prayer. You hum around him, swirling your tongue, taking him deeper, deeper until he’s hitting the back of your throat again. His fingers tighten in your hair. Good, you think, he's close. First sign of his impending orgasm. You know this man like the back of your hand

“You’re, nghh, you’re so good, so— so brilliant, my brilliant girl” you moan around him, because god, you love it when Ford calls you that. He feels the vibration from your muffled sounds. You look up at him through your lashes, cheeks hollowed around his cock and he absolutely crumbles when you roll his balls between your fingers again, massaging them gently.

Ford's gone, moaning so beautifully loud, choking on your name, shaking violently and then he’s coming hard, his whole body locks up, hips jerking as he holds your head firmly, roots of your hair start to hurt and your jaw aches already, but that's so hot when Ford gets a little bit rough like that.

He's loud, so loud, he can’t hold it back, can’t stop the sounds spilling from his lips, his always so calm voice pitches up, sounding so high and desperate. Ford babbles your name between gasps, begging without even realising as he cums in your mouth.

“Oh, f-fuck, fuck! mhmm, s-sweetheart, I— ohh— fuck, im cumming—“ his voice is hoarse while his body shaking.

And you take it all, let him ride it out as long as your lovely scientist needs, until hes shaking. His glasses are fogged up as sweat rolls down his forehead, his knees nearly buckle.

And above, somewhere high in the trees, a bird trills obliviously into the quiet.

You pull off him with the dirtiest sound ever, swallowing everything he gave you, licking your lips, and Ford watches you do it with glassy, half-lidded eyes. He sags back against the tree, panting like crazy, dazed.

You wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb, smiling in satisfaction. God, your jaw feels so sore. . . but then your eyes widen a little when he cups your cheek, running his thumb over your swollen lips. His hands are still shaking. Ford looks at you in awe, dumbfounded, totally in love, obsessed, yours.

And that’s when he finally moves.

He grabs you, yanks you up, presses you against the tree. He’s kissing you instantly, tasting himself on your lips, moaning into your mouth while trembling hands hike up your dress. He slips his hand into your panties, feeling the evidence of your arousal, running slow circles over your swollen clit.

Ford groans, presses you tighter against the tree, and this time, he won’t stop until he’s completely buried inside you.

“Right now. I need you, right now.” his fingers tighten in the fabric of your dress, bunching it higher, exposing you completely. Turning you to face the tree, Ford lines himself up, running the head of his cock slowly through your soft folds, memorizing every reaction.

Your summer dress is hiked up around your waist, panties dangling at your ankles, and Ford is right behind you as he desperately adjusts himself between your legs, the thick head of him nudging against your entrance.

“Ford, please!” you squirm, pushing back against him desperately, arching into him.

He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. Ford, your brilliant, nerdy man, so desperate to be inside you and you're nothing but a puddle beneath him. He’s in love with you, so deeply in love and he can’t hide it anymore, not when you’re like this, not when you’re giving him all of you, when you're being so good for him. He’s so turned on by the idea of having you out here, exposed, but he’s also so fucking in awe of you.

“I have you, sweetheart.”

And then he pushes in, as always he does it, so slow, careful and deliberate, feeling how your warmth welcomes him. You suck in a sharp breath, stretching around him, feeling every inch of his throbbing cock. You drop your frehead against the bark.

“Dear god, you feel— you feel so good, sweetheart, s-so warm, so tight, i— i c-can’t believe—” Ford is mumbling, drowning in how you feel. He kisses your shoulder, then the nape of your neck. “you take me so well, oh, sweetheart, i—” his hands rest on your hips, holding you steady. “ohh, ohh, oh— god—”

He sinks in deep, shuddering, burying himself to the hilt, feeling your pussy clenching around him. And for some time, he just stays there.

“Just like that, swee—” he can't even continue, just presses his forehead against your back and groans. You squeeze him, just to hear him choke on his next breath. “p-please, please— i need—”

“Ford, move.” after that, you feel him pulling back before thrusting back in what makes you both moan.

His pace starts slow and measured, but he's still breathing hard against your skin, whispering between ragged gasps. “youre so warm, taking me s-so deep. . . could stay like this forever, i— i swear, i—”

You arch against him, curling your fingers against the bark and he grips your waist tighter. You let out a gasp when he thrusts deeper, your body stretching to accommodate him.

Ford pushes in, pulls out, thrusts back in. Trying to stay in his senses, controlled, reverent. You may not see his face right now, but you're sure he looks beautiful as ever, trying so hard to stay composed but failing miserably as he makes love to you.

“Your pussy feels so good, god, you're so warm,” his hands slide up your waist, over your stomach, gripping, mapping, memorizing. His pace starts to pick up.

You whimper, pressing your hips back against him, and he chokes on a curse.

“Darling, d-do that again, please—”

You do. Ford holds your hips and starts moving faster, deeper.

The world spins.

“Deeper, Ford,” you cry out into the silence of the forest, needing more. “want you deeper.”

He snaps his hips forward roughly, loosing his control and oh oh, oh, oh. Fuck, a sharp, overwhelming pressure—

You gasp, tensing immediately, something feels wrong or maybe you just— Fuck! Ford pushes into you again and that pressure spreads through your body as you feel slight discomfort.

“Ford, too deep, wait. . .”

“I— are you okay? did I hurt you? i didn’t mean to, i got carried away, i—” he immediately adjusts, pulling back enough and stopping all his movements, but you're silent and it scares him. “sweetheart, talk to me, what do you need? do you want to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, no. Just- just go slower.” Ford trusts you so he pulls out and adjusts your pose a little bit, then sinks back in and changes the angle, gentler this time, smoothly, more careful. And fuck, it feels heavenly perfect now.

You giggle when you feel him pressing kisses to your neck, whispering apologies.

“Darling, is that better?”

You only nod eagerly, too breathless to answer.

“I don’t want to hurt you, i just want you to feel good, i just want to- to worship you, to love you.” you know he's honest because of the way his fingers dig into your skin, and you know he’s trying to hold back, he’s so afraid of hurting you, and you love him for it, so much. Ford buries his face into your hair, breathing you in. “oh, i love you, i love you so much.” you moan in response, easing into the pleasure again.

“F-Ford,” you turn your head and give him a passionate kiss, whispering “i love you too.” into his lips, gasping for breath between each word as he thrusts his cock into you.

You push back against him, moving together with him, your body demanding more, your hands gripping the tree even tighter as you take more of him.

“That’s it, baby,” you breathe, “youre fucking me so good.” and everything what surrounds you blurs. All this summer heat, the golden light, the trees, the birds, the leaves, the wind, it all melts away, until there is only him.

That praise means everything for him, the fact that you enjoy it too. Ford fucks you like you’re his religion, needing you like sinners need confession. The trees stand tall around you, the Oregon forest whispering with wind and distant birdsong. But none of it exists. All that exists is Ford behind you, losing himself, his cock is buried inside you, stretching you open, making you feel so full it’s dizzying, consuming your mind.

The contrast between you is dizzying.

You, flushed and breathless, dress hitched around your waist, panties now lost somewhere in the moss. and Ford, fully dressed, coat, the red of his turtleneck, the belt strapped tight across his chest, the dark fabric of his trousers straining as he presses against you.

He’s clothed like a man who’s spent his life preparing for war, layers upon layers, protection stitched into every seam and yet he’s undone by you

“You're still—” you gasp as he thrusts into you, “fully dressed.”

A choked laugh against your throat. “can't help myself,” Ford admits, ”you’re too pretty i couldn't wait.”

His coat brushes against your bare skin, the contrast of fabric and flesh making you shiver.

His boots firmly planted in the earth. Big. Heavy.

Your bare toes curling against moss, slipping against damp forest floor until you step on his boot. You don’t even mean to, just seeking more balance, more stability. But Ford let's you stand like that if it's more comfortable for his lovely girl.

His hands slide down your stomach and he pressed his fingers against your lower belly, grinding into you and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. Your legs start shaking.

“Can you feel it, sweetheart?” Ford's fingers press into your skin. “feel how deep i am inside you?” he moves deeper what makes your legs nearly give out, but Ford grips you tighter and holds you up. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re safe, let me hold you.”

Your pussy is wet, tight around him, and he can feel every flutter, every clench, every slick, pulsing squeeze. Ford drags his cock out of you what makes your brows knit together and then he thrusts back in, forcing loud gasps from your parted lips.

“Yes, just like that, yes!” tears slips down your cheeks like melted diamonds.

Ford touches you, smoothing over your belly, sliding up to cup your breasts through your dress. His cock is leaking with pre cum and throbbing inside you, the head rubbing against every sensitive sweet spot inside you, dragging against your walls in sensual thrusts.

Your pussy is soaking him whole, dripping down your thighs, making a mess of both of you, and he can feel it, he can hear it because of wet squelching sounds and it’s driving him insane.

“You're dripping, sweetheart, holy moses. Soaking me.” his long fingers delving between your thighs, pressing against your sensitive clit, pleasuring you even more and your velvety walls clench around him tighter as he rubs your little nub. “that's it, love, that's my brilliant girl, so smart, so perfect, so good for me.” he’s thrusting into you deeper now, more harder, but still careful, drinking in every sound you make, studying the science of your pleasure.

He's filling you with warmth as the pressure inside of you builds. You’re so close, so close you can taste it, can feel the climax just within reach. You push back harder against him, wanting it, needing it as you try to match his thrusts while his fingers work magic on your clit.

“I love you.”

“I love you, i love you, i love you!”

And the forest sings, the wind hums, the world tilts. The sun is honeyed, pooling over your skin.

You’re falling, falling, falling. And he’s falling with you.

The air is filled with heat and pine, damp with the scent of sweat and sex.

The forest is watching, breathing, alive.

But nothing else exists except the way he moves inside you.

“Does it feel good, darling?”

“Yes, yes, oh!” his fingers rub soft circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Ford, please, don’t stop. . .”

“Won't, i won’t, i could never.”

“Fuck, Ford, im—“ you can't even finish as your thighs start shaking, you’re so close, so close, so fucking close your brain can't work anymore.

“I know, sweetheart, i know, i can feel you, you squeezing me.” his fingers rub your clit harder, his cock fucks into you deeper and you fall apart completely, sobbing and writhing, cumming so hard you swear the whole fucking world disappears. Your pussy throbs, drenches his cock, soaking his thighs, soaking the ground.

Ford thrusts into you through it, desperate, obsessed with how hot you look. “darling, you’re so beautiful like this.” he can't stop pressing kisses to your shoulder, your spine, your neck, his hands smoothing over your stomach, your thighs, soothing you, loving you.

You’re trembling, absolutely ruined by the powerful orgasm your scientist gave you, gasping for air. You want it again, you want him again.

“Please, sweetheart,” his cock throbs inside you, he’s right there too. “please, can i— can i cum inside?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Thank you, thank you, sweetheart.” he slams his cock deep one more time and spills inside you, filling you up with his warm seed.

Ford holds you tight in his arms, whispering your name, thanking you, kissing you over and over, breathing hard, sweat damp at his hairline, glasses crooked. His body is so exhausted and overwhelmed.

“Sweetheart,” he's so kiss-drunk. “i think you’ve completely wrecked me.”

You smile softly, too dazed to say something in response, your eyes hazy, body still trembling around him.

But then, involuntarily, you turn your head. Your unfocused gaze falls on. . . oh.

Him.

The statue.

Bill. The golden demonic triangle, locked in stone, frozen in time, trapped in his own cursed monument with his single, etched eye.

Looks creepy, in a way. Like he's watching.

Your breath shudders as your whole body goes still

Ford notices immediately as he calls you by your name, asking what happened. You don’t answer, just tilt your head slightly, staring right back at the statue.

Ford follows your gaze and sees it too.

“. . . Oh.”

You look at Ford and he looks at you. Your fingers trace slow lines down his chest until you whisper.

“Put me against it.”

Ford stares at you, wide-eyed. “you, you want to—”

“Yes.”

“Sweetheart, what if he can—”

“Good.”

Ford sighs and you smile.

“Don’t you want to remind him that you’re mine now?”

And that’s how you end up with your back pressed against the stone surface of Bill’s statue with Ford between your legs. His gaze accidentally falls on the statue and his heart slams against his ribs.

Bill. Watching. Unblinking. Trapped. Helpless.

Bill, who once called him Fordsy, Sixer, IQ.

Bill, who once called him cute when he tried to fight back.

Bill, who once called him his perfect other half.

Bill, who was once the sun in his galaxy.

He's watching, so let him see.

Bill can’t move, can’t speak, can’t scream, but he can see. And he is fucking seething. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

THIS?

HIM?

His Fordsy, his fucking Sixer getting ruined by some desperate, pathetic little human? He hates you, hates the way you’re moaning, taking his Sixer’s cock like you fucking belong there, hates the way Ford’s holding you, worshipping you, whispering against your skin.

You are hypersensitive now, your body feels like a live wire, buzzing, overloaded with him. The way Ford's hands move over your skin, trying to understand how someone like him, six-fingered, battered, buried under too many regrets ended up with someone like you, soft and brilliant and wholly, painfully, his.

The coolness of the stone surface of Cipher's statue feels like cruel contrast to the heat between your legs.

Ford makes a quiet whimper before kissing you like he’s dying. Like he’s never known softness before, like he’s never known devotion before, like he’s never been worshiped before.

Your hands wander, relearning the shape of him, the texture of him. The scarred hands, the broad shoulders, the soft expanse of his stomach, the sharp ridges of his hipbones.

You can feel his heartbeat through his cock.

You drag your nails up his spine, feeling the way his whole body twitches, responds, obeys.

His brain is short-circuiting because he’s never had sex like this, he’s never been touched like this, he’s never been wanted like this.

“I should stop,” the scientist between your legs says. “i should sweetheart, this is madness.”

But he doesn’t move away, doesn’t pull out, doesn’t stop. Because he can’t. Or maybe because he doesn’t want to. Could it be both?

Bill remembers when it was him who could make Ford tremble, when it was his words, his touch, his power that made Sixer gasp. When it was him who was the center of Ford’s universe.

And now Ford is gripping your thighs, burying his face in your neck, whimpering into your skin.

Bill is fucking livid, watching HIS Sixer trembling, gasping, clinging to you like you are his entire existence. Watching Ford ruin himself for you. Watching Ford let himself be loved. Watching Ford beg to be yours.

And Bill can’t do a fucking thing about it.

Ford is losing his mind because it can't be real, too much, too good, too intense.

Bill hates the way Ford’s fingers slide into your mouth, pressing against your tongue, letting you suck, letting you worship his extra one.

“Good girl,” his Sixer says, watching the way your lips close around his digits as your tongue flicks against the calloused pads, your moan vibrate straight into his palm.

Bill remembers the first time Ford ever held out this hand to him.

"I was born strange. I am attracted to the strange. And the strange has always been attracted to me." Ford’s brilliance was always his curse.

Bill had taken his hand. And never let go.

Until now, until you.

His sixer, his brilliant, stubborn, impossible Sixer reduced to this? To a whimpering mess, buried deep in some lovesick human.

Bill wants to claw his way out of this stone. wants to take back what’s his. Bill would laugh if he could, would tear you away from him and remind Sixer exactly who he belongs to.

This is hell, no, this is worse than hell.

He was a god, infinite. And now he's a fucking rock, a statue, a prisoner, a powerless, speechless, helpless observer to. . . to what? to this shit?

“You’re mine,” you breathe into Ford's lips.

“Yes, yes, yours, I'm yours, always, always, always.”

Ford. His Ford.

No. No, NO, NO.

He is watching Ford give himself away, watching Ford worship you like you hung the fucking stars.

Stanford was his. HIS.

He was supposed to be the only one to drive Ford mad. He was supposed to be the one who made Ford weak, made him beg.

Ford had been so easy back then. So starved for validation, but desperate for knowledge and so beautifully eager to destroy himself in pursuit of something greater.

Bill had owned him.

“You’re mine.”

“Yours, all yours, my love.” Ford’s eyes are unfocused, hes so far gone, for you.

And you know it, Bill can fucking tell because you're looking at him, looking at the statue as you grip Ford tighter, protecting him from Bill.

“Mine.” and Ford, who, in Bill's opinion, has always been an obedient dog, damn nods.

This is a joke. This is an insult. This is a violation.

And yet, it is him that you and Ford are violating, his monument, his remains and his final resting place, his one trace left in this world.

“She knows. She knows what Ford and I were. That’s why she’s doing this, isn’t it? That’s why she’s dragging him down onto the cold stone, letting him touch her, making him forget everything but her. She wants to erase me, wants to make sure that when Ford thinks about what it felt like to kneel before me, to look up at me with awe and fear and longing in those stupid, stupid human eyes, all he will remember instead is this. She wants to overwrite it. Reprogram him. Take what was mine. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. She is all human frailty, weak, pathetic, replaceable. She is mortal, temporary, fragile, finite. But my Ford brilliant. Ford is infinite. Ford is so much more. And yet, he isn’t even thinking of me, is he? He is looking at her. She has ruined him. He used to beg for me. Now that idiot is worshipping her. Losing himself inside her. Dedicating himself to her like a disciple, a zealot, a man willing to fall to his knees and destroy himself for devotion. That used to be for me. His hands. . . oh dear Euclydia, those hands— how many times did those same hands trace the surface of my pages, searching for truth, for knowledge, for validation? How many times did those fingers clutch at my edges, desperate, reaching for something no human was ever meant to touch. Now those same hands are on her. And I cannot stop it. I cannot do anything. I can only watch as she takes him further and further from me, until there is nothing left. Until the Stanford Pines I knew, the Stanford Pines I built, the Stanford Pines I made, the Stanford Pines I claimed is completely gone. Until I am nothing more than a forgotten scary whisper in his mind. Until I am just a rock in the woods, forced to witness the slow, meticulous erasure of my own existence. My body doesn't have mouth and I cannot even scream.”

Bill doesn’t love Ford. He doesn’t even know what love is. But he knows obsession and he knows hunger, and somewhere in that chaos, Ford became the center of it all.

Bill has never been helpless before, never been forced to endure something without intervention.

And worse, this is Stanford Pines. The only human who ever matched him, challenged him, fascinated him. Ford believed he could outthink a god, Bill knew that mortals only crumble faster under pressure.

Ford isn’t just being fucked. Ford isn’t just desperate and needy, begging for attention. Ford is in love. Being consumed by love, taken in a way that made him forget himself. Forget Bill.

Bill can’t stand it. This is cosmic-level sadism.

”I am a god, a destroyer of worlds. I have seen the rise and fall of civilisations. I have cracked open minds and turned them inside out. I have walked between dimensions and burned the laws of reality into my own design. Now I'm left to rot in this miserable meat-world. And i could have handled that, maybe. Could have tolerated the humiliation, the aching eternity of nothingness, if not for this. If not for Stanford Pines, of all people, of all creatures in the multiverse, of all sentient beings in all realities, here like this. Right in front of me, crying out in reverence for someone else. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! He's looking at her like she’s the fucking god in this equation. It’s not just that he’s on his knees for her in the same way he once was for me, it’s that he WANTS this. It's that he’s soft for her and not because he’s lost his mind and scared, not because he’s intoxicated by the thrill of the impossible, not because i have my hands in his brain turning the gears myself. But because he loves her. I should be touching him, i should be inside his head, mind, body. I should be the one pulling those noises out of his throat. This is the worst part. Not the betrayal. Not the humiliation. But the knowledge that he doesn't think about me anymore. Ford Pines is no longer mine, he does not dream of me, he does not scream my name, he does not shudder at my touch, he does not remember what it was like to belong to me, he has forgotten, he has replaced me and there is nothing i can do about it. Not now, not ever.”

I'm going insane.

He’s the smartest idiot I’ve ever met. And trust me, I’ve met a lot of idiots.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE GOD?

To see everything, to know everything, to hold eternity in your hands like a matchstick? To bend reality, break minds, carve new universes from the ribs of dying ones?

To whisper your name into the black holes of men’s hearts and have them answer you, hungry, desperate, willing?

I do. I did. Hahahahahhahaha! NOW I SEE!

This is what i did to you, isn’t it, Sixer? This is what i made you feel, when i left you alone, when i lied, when i called you a fool, when i told you that you needed me more than i ever needed you.

This is what it felt like, isn’t it? It hurted you?

“You’re the smartest person i’ve ever met.” Ford thought he could tame chaos and Bill thought he could devour genius. The tragedy is they both succeeded.

Sixer was always meant to fall into obsession, but it was supposed to be Bill’s name trembling off his lips, not yours.

Do you even understand what you’re touching?

Do you know what he was before you came along, sinking your little hands into him, sinking your little teeth into his throat, into his fucking soul?

Do you know what he could have been?

My Sixer was never meant to be this small, this weak, this human.

Do you know what i saw in him? POTENTIAL.

He was born wrong, born strange, born too smart for his body, too brilliant for his world. He was never meant to belong.

But i could give him something better. And oh, Sixer, my darling Sixer, my beautiful, tragic, broken Sixer, you knew it, didn’t you? You knew it the moment you met me because the first time you let me in, i felt you shudder. Not in fear, no. In recognition. As if finally, finally, finally you had found something as hungry as you.

“I need you, darling, need you so much, it’s terrifying.” aww, but Fordsy, you always did love things that scared you.

Cipher was the sun in his galaxy, but do you know what happens when a star collapses? It doesn’t just disappear, it becomes a black hole, it pulls everything in, crushes everything under its gravity. It becomes a point of no return.

And you, little parasite, LITTLE THIEF, you think you’ve won? Seriously? You’ve stolen him from me!

Ford builds to understand, but I destroy to prove. He may map the stars, but I decide where they fall

Ford defines matter, but I define meaning, my poor Sixer seeks the truth and i am what breaks it.

He draws the line between genius and madness. I blur it until he can’t find his way back.

I'm still here.

“He promised me knowledge, and I gave him my trust. He took both and left me drowning in questions I can never unask. I let him orbit my thoughts only to find I was a moon bound to a planet that devoured itself. I thought he was a guiding star, but he was a collapsing supernova, destroying everything in his wake and I still couldn’t look away.” torn pages from Ford’s journal say.

Ford will never admit it, but Bill gave him something he never had before, a reason to feel important. It’s not that Ford wants the universe. He just wants to matter in it. And Bill let him think he did.

Ford thought he hated the way Cipher talked, but it’s the silence that terrifies him because he knows he’s still there, waiting.

Bill carved himself into Ford’s life like a parasite, but Ford let him in like a lover.

And it's a mistake he'll never repeat again.

fuck it.

Ford doesn’t know what’s more overwhelming. The way your pussy clenches around him, fluttering, soaking his cock. Or the way you lean back against the cold, unmoving surface of Bill’s statue, lips parted, a wicked little smile curling at the edges.

You reach back, threading your fingers through his damp, silver-streaked hair and kiss him roughly, biting his lips, exploring his mouth with your tongue. You don't notice the way Ford's eyes flicker up to meet the empty, unblinking gaze of the stone triangle looming over you both. Ford’s stomach twists, his pulse stutters. His mind reels

You are on top of him now, your thighs are straddling his hips, knees pressing into the damp moss, hands cradling the sharp lines of his jaw. Ford's free hand grips your ass, squeezes tight, pulls you down harder.

You ruin him, it's too much, the way your pussy swallows him, velvet heat stretching around him, keeping him locked inside you. The way you grab his wrist, pull his hand to your mouth, and slip his fingers past your lips again.

Ford's hair is a mess, just like himself, his face is flushed, drenched in sweat, pupils so wide they swallow the soft brown of his eyes. Half-lidded and glassy, he looks at you, taking you in, drinking you in, your beauty.

Ford pushes the straps of your dress down, letting them slip from your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the golden, dappled light filtering through the canopy above. The sight is so beautiful, watching your breasts bounce as you fuck yourself dumb on his cock. Ford thinks he might never want to leave this moment, this place, this overwhelming, earth-shattering feeling of being inside you, of being part of you, of belonging to you.

“So good, so good,” you whisper, scratching your nails against his shoulders as he stretches you open. “hnngh, Ford, so big, you're so big, Ford, c-can feel you—”

His entire body locks up. “too deep? Sweetheart, do you need me to stop? Do you—”

Your hands fly up, cupping his face. “No, don’t you dare stop.” you sink down again, grinding onto him, taking him even deeper and Ford cries, his body can't process the pleasure of feeling you squeeze around him, taking him so perfectly, so fully

“Love, I—” you roll your hips, rubbing against him just right. “I— oh, god, oh fuck,” he’s always been articulate, always so good with words, so clever, so brilliant, but right now, he’s nothing but wrecked, broken syllables, hoarse moans, desperate gasps.

God, you love him so much.

His head tilts back against the Bill's statue, exposing his throat to you, mouth open, panting, eyes unfocused, completely pussy drunk.

“Baby,” you whisper, sliding your fingers into his hair, yanking him forward, forcing him to look at you. “stay with me.”

His silly gaze snaps to yours, pupils blown wide as he gives you the most genuine fucked out smile.

“Always, always, sweetheart, always.”

"Keep talking, please.”

“Can't,” he gasps. “can't—” he's gripping the swell of your ass, yanking you down, forcing you deeper, forcing you to take every inch of him, and god, he's buried so deep it makes your breath stutter.

Your walls tighten around him and Ford straight-up whimpers. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his.

“Where’d all those big words go, hm?”

“You— you’re— ngh, y-you’re ruining me.”

You don't really notice how he slides a hand between your bodies and runs two fingers through the mess where you're stretched around him, rubbing your clit, then brings his fingers to his mouth. His lips close around them, licking the taste of you and he groans like he's been starving.

“You taste like heaven, my love.” Ford hugs you and buries his face in your throat, teeth scraping, lips sucking, marking you, branding you meanwhile his fingers slide back down, slipping between your folds, circling your clit gently and you fucking die from this kind of intimacy. Your whole body tenses.

“F-Ford!” he grips your waist tight, holding you in place and then he thrusts up, deeper, faster and harder, his cock slamming into you so perfectly it makes your vision blur. “Yes,” you sob, “yes, please, harder. I love you, more!”

His cock drags against your inner walls, grazing against every tender spot.

He isn’t just giving you his body, but his soul. And he’s never, ever taking it back. The smartest man in the universe, the man who has solved unfathomable cosmic mysteries, completely undone beneath you.

Your clit throbs as you cry out, digging your nails into his shoulders, holding yourself.

"Please," man beneath you gasps, "please, sweetheart, don't stop—" you ride him faster. You move together like you are the one. Your bodies fit like the phases of the moon, waxing and waning, perfect in every alignment.

The pressure builds and builds until it snaps, and you cry out. The heat coiled tighter and tighter in your belly, your breath coming in short, frantic bursts. Ford's fingers rub over your clit one last time and the oversensitivity makes you jerk and shake.

Ford thrusts up into you, his hands shaking on your waist and then he cums. Your head falls back, lips parted in a silent cry as your pussy grips him tight, milking him. His thrusts slowed as you feel every inch of him pulsing, his cum filling you to the brim you can feel it dripping already.

The world is quiet. The only sound is your breath, the exhausted gasps of two people who just destroyed each other in the best possible way.

Your legs are shaking too much to move, body boneless

Ford presses his forehead to your shoulder,

“Jesus christ.”

You laugh, dazed, punch-drunk, deliriously happy. Your tired. hand slips and you almost touch the statue, or to be exact, Bill's stone hand as it looms just inches away, and Ford’s eyes go wide.

”Don’t!” he shouts, grabbing your wrist.

You freeze. “Wha—”

“It’s a deal, you touch him, you’re making a deal and we’re not doing that. Not ever.” you look at the statue when realization dawns.

Later, when you’re both dressed and leaving the clearing, Ford glances back at the statue with blank expression

“He can’t hurt us,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “not anymore.”

Stanford spent a lifetime chasing knowledge, mysteries, the secrets of the universe.

And now he's realising he should have been chasing you. It’s good that there’s still a lot of time left.

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cinnamanz · 2 days ago

Text

# ONLY ON CAMERA — chapter fifty-one!

when katseye's main dancer daniela avanzini accidentally throws shade at chart-topping singer y/n l/n on an interview, the internet erupts in chaos. with y/n already in hot waters with the press over her latest scandal, both their pr teams scramble for damage control. the solution? a 'picture-perfect' fake relationship to turn the headlines in their favor.

wc: 720 (its the last written chapter bro dont be lazy nd read it😔)

SHE

THE KNOCK AT THE DOOR WAS FAINT AT FIRST, almost swallowed by the roar of the rain. y/n glanced up from her phone, a furrow forming on her brow. another knock—firmer this time, more urgent. she sighed, setting her phone down and making her way to the door, her pulse quickening despite herself.

when she opened it, she froze.

there stood daniela, soaked to the skin, rainwater streaming from her hair and dripping off the hem of her jacket. she looked as messy as the storm outside—eyes rimmed red, lips trembling, her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.

y/n’s voice caught in her throat. “what are you doing he—”

“i’m sorry.” the words tumbled out of daniela’s mouth before y/n could finish, her voice breaking. “i’m so sorry. “just let me talk. let me—let me explain.”

y/n stepped back slightly, her hand tightening on the doorknob. “you shouldn’t be here,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

“i know,” daniela said, her voice breaking. “but i couldn’t stay away. i can’t—” she paused, dragging a hand through her wet hair, her shoulders trembling. “i can’t keep running from this. from you.”

y/n didn’t move, her hand gripping the door frame as she tried to steel herself. “why now?” she asked, her voice quieter than she’d meant it to be, the hurt bleeding through despite her effort to hold it back.

daniela blinked, tears slipping free and mixing with the rain still streaking down her face. “because i’ve been a coward,” she said, her voice raw. “because i’ve spent every second since i left you trying to convince myself i was better off alone, that i didn’t need this—didn’t need you. but i do. i need you, y/n.”

“i know i hurt you. i know i pushed you away, lied to myself, lied to you. i told myself it was better that way. that it was safer. but all i’ve done is destroy the one good thing i’ve ever had. you don’t deserve this,” daniela continued, her voice trembling, raw and unguarded. “you don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice or their escape. you deserve to be loved the way you love—completely, without hesitation. and i was too much of a coward to give that to you.”

y/n closed her eyes. “you think an apology fixes this? that just saying you’re sorry makes it all okay?”

“no,” daniela said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t expect it to. but i had to try. because i love you. and if there’s even the smallest chance that you’ll let me prove it to you, then i’ll take it. even if it means standing here all night in the rain.”

y/n’s eyes opened, locking on daniela’s, and for the first time in weeks, she saw something in her gaze that felt genuine—raw and unguarded in a way daniela had never allowed herself to be.

she stepped back, the door swinging wider. “you’re an idiot. come in,” y/n said softly, the words catching in her throat.

daniela hesitated for a moment, as if she couldn’t believe it, before stepping through the threshold. y/n didn’t speak as she shut the door behind her, didn’t look at her, but when daniela turned, y/n’s arms were already around her, pulling her into an embrace that was as much a lifeline as it was a question.

“you’re a huge idiot.” daniela let out a sound at y/n’s words—a mix of a sob and a laugh—as y/n pulled her into a hug, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill. the rain from daniela’s skin and clothes attached themselves to y/n’s own clothes, fabric darkening as daniela pulled her closer, hug tightening.

“i love you.” the words fell from daniela’s lips, soft and certain, like they’d been waiting their whole life to find their way to y/n. they settled in the air between them, filling the space with something tender and warm, spreading through y/n’s chest like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

y/n’s cheeks flushed as a slow, uncontainable smile spread across her face. she hid her face in daniela’s neck, her voice barely above a whisper but full of passion that seeped through the seams. “i love you more.”

masterlist 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆ next

is that... FLUFF??????

taglist : @meganskiendielsbtc @rosiehrs @artrizzler19 @goofymickeyr @sunshinez4 @urmom2314 @meizinisnumberone @yeetaberry127 @xochitlisbest @ssamlovr @saysirhc @nyssalvr @ninguitar @kristalag @1luvkarina @idleyuri @kathleenmikaelson @sed7ction @hazel-tanthamore22 @yazzyminny @vrtualstar @meiphobic @cassiespoiler @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @taikabui @cceanvvaves @c-yerim @waitsobs @firstclassjaylee @bowforgodjihyo @thepurin @chaepu @bandaidss320 @manonsmartini @haerinkisser @esccecvp @blushmimi TAGLIST CLOSED!

#katseye #katseye x reader #katseye smau #wlw #katseye x female reader #smau #gxg #daniela avanzini katseye #daniela avanzini x female reader #daniela x female reader #daniela avanzini x reader #daniela katseye #daniela x reader #daniela avanzini #Spotify

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stealingpotatoes · 1 day ago

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POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

#how long to beat says it's abt 29 hours so this is roughly a third (??) of the game???#talk is cheap #kotor #swkotor #knights of the old republic

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guppybibi · 3 days ago

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part 2 to the johnny fic!

notes: this was pretty rushed,,,so it is fast paced..if u guys dont like this one i could always rewrite it! :3

taglist: @ennovi-9 @vvenus-child @msilwrites @tessakate @beatriceshadowmarvel2 @montenegroisr (for some reason i cant tag the others??) i'll try to do so in the comments

Grief was never an easy thing to heal from to begin with, so Simon has kept a close eye on you ever since. You refused to believe him at first, trying to pull out some sort of proof that you were with Johnny this past year but to your own shock, there was none. Not a singular one.

Luckily, Simon had a xerox copy of Johnny’s death certificate. The original copy was with you but it seems that it was burned to ashes based on the reaction you gave when Simon dangled it over your face.

But you really weren’t believing him, shielded in the denial you were holding tightly close to you. “Where’s the urn with half of his ashes then, eh?” Simon throws the question at you, his words unintentionally harsher than expected.

But he really doesn't get what you've been trying to convince him to believe, don't you remember spreading Soap’s ashes? He expected you to at least remember that part.

“The…what?” That was all you could manage to say right now, your voice failing you now of all times. “The urn with his ashes.” He repeats, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he intently watches your expression.

Simon starts to wonder how hard of a psychosis you went through, or if you ever took drugs after Johnny’s death. That would explain the hallucinations as well, there's no shame in it either. It's not unusual for someone to turn to substances during mourning, it's a common coping mechanism.

All Simon wants to focus on is you, for you to get better. Fuck Johnny for leaving you alone like this, the pitiful sight almost made Simon's face be a constant scowl.

Okay..maybe he was exaggerating but he’ll definitely throw a middle finger up to the sky later. Simon knows it'll probably make Johnny laugh his ass off…or worry. It really depends if he knew your current situation.

Either way, none of that stuff matters much. You have no choice but to be in Simon’s care.

He’s not quite sure what to do when you start crying into his chest the moment you two stepped into your house, no longer a home. He remains still, lightly patting you on the back as he guides you to the couch.

He’ll be here for a while, won't he?

~~~

It's been weeks since you've known about Johnny’s death, but the only thing Simon could notice was the lack of improvement.

You were rotting in bed, relying on Simon completely for you to do basic tasks. You spent most of the time crying and sleeping, an endless cycle that even made Simon feel like he was going crazy.

“C’mon, eat up, luv. I made you some soup. We're runnin’ out of groceries as well, wanna tag along later?” He offers, holding up the spoon full of soup to your mouth. Expectedly, with a disinterested look, you turn your back on him.

He sighs, putting the bowl aside. “Alright, I won't make you go but the offer is still up.” He says, pausing when he hears footsteps get closer and closer to the door.

It's…weirdly familiar. Simon could recognize people based off of their footsteps alone, but he simply couldn't place his finger on this one. As it got nearer, you seemed to notice it as well..

The two of you make questioning looks at each other. “Stay there, I’ll go check it out.” Simon stood up, making his way to the door until a certain someone pops out.

“Bonnie? Ye there? Git us some groceries.”

…Another shared look between you and Simon.

“Oh good, there yer are, lass. Simon? You're here too? Glad there's another set of hands then.”

Simon’s gaze moved to you, seeing your eyes water up with tears. But that wasn't what caught his attention, it was the hole through this…Johnny’s head.

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daenystheedreamer · 2 days ago

Note

please tell us about alysannejonquil..... you've intrigued me

ok so. jonquil is utterly totally irrevocably devoted to alysanne. her very shadow. nothing is more important to jonquil than alysanne. alysanne is the maiden made flesh. alysanne is a true princess a true queen the most beautiful the most kind the most gentle.

alysanne loves jaehaerys with all her heart, he is her soul she is his heart. she also loves jonquil, as her truest friend. she's like her hand; an undeniable part of herself. alysanne could be bisexual if she knew that existed but truly has no thoughts on this matter.

jonquil knows she is a lesbian and can identify her sexuality. she is also a bastard daughter and a woman knight. she can never be a true daughter nor a true knight.

there relationship is one of meaningful touches, where it is thoughtless and whole-heartedly given by alysanne and obsessed over and greedily, starvingly kept by jonquil. an empathetic pat on the knee. braiding jonquil's hair so it's out of the way. tying the ribbons on alysanne's dress.

alysanne says oh you are my jonquil then i must be your florian. jonquil is gripping her sword white-knuckled. haha yes your grace of course your grace. jonquil thinks about alysanne the maiden in the pool the true jonquil.

alysanne is 15 when the attack at maidenpool happens and i like jonquil at 18 because it mirrors brienne and it means she did her mystery knight tourney at 16 like lyanna. they grow up together. jonquil is beside her for the births of all her children, from daenerys to gael.

jonquil sees the king and hates. and then she repents, because he is the king and if alysanne is the mother then he is the father made flesh. but he puts alysanne in that birthing bed and makes her bloody and still alysanne loves him still alysanne praises him for giving her children.

ok dramatic prose over it got too much. anyway i think jonquil is sort of a weird aunt figure in the lives of alysanne's kids. she's literally been there since birth. ill put her opinions on the kids below the cut. i think alyssa, saera and viserra specifically all catch on and identify exactly what jonquil's deal is and i do believe they each tease and harass her over this. alyssa in a fun and flirty way, saera in a pointed and cruel way, viserra in a simultaneously careless and egomaniac way.

jonquil being the one who physically restrains saera and forces her to watch jaehaerys behead her lovers. Layers. layers to this. saera is an insult to her mother a wicked wicked girl. jaehaerys IS the father IS the king. alysanne must be protected.

jonquil loves the order jonquil loves the system. she believes herself an aberrance and repents over this.

also i think jonquil would get jealous when gael becomes alysanne's bedmate. layers layers layers. she liked daenerys because daenerys died before she could become a disappointment.

i want jonquil surviving alysanne and sticking around at court. like barristan. a shadow once more. i want her to see alicent. i want her to see another faithful girl in the flower of her youth caring for jaehaerys and jaehaerys mistaking her for his daughters for saera. i want to see it. she has a stroke and dies at a sept lying at the foot of the maiden. or mother idk could be either.

i dont like alyquil ever consummate. i mean i can enjoy thinking about it but like in this timeline/au/interpretation of canon/fanon whatever i think its not unrequited its just unconsummated. jonquil knows alysanne could love her, does love her, doesnt understand sexuality, but she could never. but she wants to. and has to apologise to the gods about it.

DAENERYS - cute kid, dies young so jonquil never has to see her become a wicked sort of woman

AEMON + BAELON - she cant tell the difference between them. they are their father's sons. they will be her king one day. Layers.

ALYSSA - i like to think she taught alyssa some swordfighting since alyssa is mentioned as playing with wooden swords as a kid. jonquil has complex feelings on alyssa's early non-conforming gender stuff. i think alyssa genuinely likes jonquil but also likes teasing and flirting with her. unlike her mother alyssa can identify her bisexuality. when alyssa settles down (with her brother) and becomes a good wife (to her brother) jonquil is like. im not going to think about this more than i have to. she is a little disgusted and then feels disgusted for feeling disgusted because aly and jae are sister and brother and aly can do no wrong which means to feel disgusted is to make aly less of an ethereal angel. is broken up by alyssa's death, never wants to think about it ever again.

MAEGELLE - the other good daughter. chose the order chose the system. kind and gentle and sweet like alysanne. faithful and good.

VAEGON - just kind of weird. doesnt like fighting doesnt like fucking. does not entirely fit his assigned gender role, which jonquil should relate to but she's not ready for that cognitive dissonance.

DAELLA - the last of the good daughters. jonquil thinks she's a weakling but then repents for thinking that because women are supposed to be weaklings. sad for alysanne when she dies.

SAERA - the wicked evil WHORE of a daughter. a demon who is a stain on her angel of a mother. of course she turned to prostitution. saera for sure was sexually harassing jonquil cos she thought it was funny. definitely like "awww mummy isnt gonna fuck you but you can settle for me ;)" and jonquil is like. im going to fall on my own sword.

VISERRA - another disappointment daughter. im not sure if i want to go full jaehaerys-abused-his-daughters in this but like. idk your mileage may vary. but no matter what jonquil is still going to be a little misogyinst about it and judge her drinking judge her self destruction. jonquil may hate jaehaerys but if alysanne loves jaehaerys than jaehaerys can therefore do no wrong sort of thing.

GAEMON + VALERION - the kids themselves dont matter but the difficult labours that alysanne went through definitely affect jonquil. she gives the king the silent treatment for a while. curses him and then repents over it and doesnt feel guilty and has to repent again.

GAEL - good daughter, in a way, but jonquil has deep jealousy over how alysanne finds comfort in her. when gael gets doomed jonquil is, deep down, a little relieved and happy because alysanne finds comfort in jonquil once more. lots of praying over that one.

bonus

AEMMA ARRYN - she likes aemma because aemma is nice and gentle and kind (just like alysanne therefore good. a worthy inheritor of queenship) + born from one of the good daugthers

DAEMON - she looks at him and sees saera

RHAENICENT - her head explodes about this

#tw weird targ dynamics #tw jaehaerys csa mention #this is a dramatic adaptation of my DMs with tyriongirl. we went a little crazy about alyquil a few days ago #sorry for the long post dude there's so much alyquil in my head #alyquil #jonquil darke #alysanne targaryen #Anonymous #ask

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siriuslylantsov · 11 hours ago

Text

morning glory

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: following the events of drunken confessions. the next morning after spencer tells you he loves you, albeit drunk and half asleep, you don't know if he means it.

tags: fluff, gn!reader, hangover but i dont dwell on it, whiny!spencer (lol), so so soft, r is so unsure but she just needs reassurance.

a/n: omg my first pt 2 as per popular demand (3 people asked), happy reading!

wc: 1.6k

i love you.

three words that bounce from one end to the other in your head, like a pendulum, reverberating across the hard surface of your skull. it echoes through the small space of your ear canal, taking up entirely too much space. it repeats with the beat of your pulse, heart thudding in a steady rhythm.

suffice it to say, you barely slept. running the words over and over for some kind of clarity. instead you preoccupied yourself with watching spencer sleep, like you are now.

with the sunrise, came light. light that filtered through the curtains just enough that you could see his face. his lips are slightly parted, soft puffs of air that don’t quite reach you. they’re pulled down minutely, in a little frown, seemingly how his face falls when he's unconscious. it's sweet. his eyebrows twitch, creasing momentarily, you wonder if he’s dreaming, or if it's a nightmare.

your fingers itch to reach out and touch him, soothe the line. but he's so peaceful, you don't know if you want to wake him up. you never get to see him like this, without the weight of the world on his shoulders, unthinking. so you stall a bit, let the wave of serenity pass before it comes crashing down in the form of a violent hangover.

you probably stay like that for an hour, an hour spent admiring his features. it's easier than confronting what he said. he’d stayed in the same position all night, curled up on his side, facing you. you’re leaning on your elbow now, looking down at him from above. his face moves, nuzzling into the pillow beneath his head. it causes that same stubborn strand of hair to fall loose.

you give in and touch him this time, tucking the piece behind his ear. you trace a finger over his brow bone and then down the slope of his perfect nose. this causes him to stir, eyes fluttering open as he takes in his surroundings before they land on you. they instantly soften.

“morning,” you whisper, wary of your volume.

“hey,” he croaks, voice riddled in sleep. all his features pull up, twisted in a grimace as his head throbs. he rolls onto his back, bringing his fingers up to his temple, rubbing the pads of them in between his eyebrows.

“where's your aspirin?”

he hums in thought, or in pain, it's uncertain. “the um- drawer,” he points beside him aimlessly, eyes still closed. he's about to move to get it but you stop him, leaning over his body to reach the bedside table next to him. you reach over him, hovering awkwardly over his body. you shiver imperceptibly when his hand settles on your waist for support, an unconscious action, you suppose. when you find it, you give him a pill and he swallows, his hand falls back to his side.

“what time is it?” he grumbles.

“quarter to twelve,” you respond, barring a quick look at the analog clock that sat on his dresser.

he harrumphs, something of acknowledgement. you didn’t think he’d be this grumpy waking up but you don't mind, it's awfully cute.

“it’s so bright,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut further, if possible.

“your eyes are closed.”

“my retinas are burning,” he whines, throwing his arm over his eyes to shield him from the sunlight in a thespian flourish.

“so dramatic,” you huff as you get up to close the curtains, the smile in your voice irrefutably evident. you peek out the window first, your car is still parked outside, you stayed the night!

when you sit back down on the bed, his head seeks you out, laying gently on your lap. you card a hand through his hair, the action seemingly appropriate. he lets out a hum, satisfied.

“do you remember much from last night?” you ask, trying to come off casual, the question is loaded to say the least. plus, you don't know if alcohol affects an eidetic memory the same way. maybe he remembers everything, like always.

“no,” he says with a little shrug. “well, i remember going to the bar and morgan spilling a shot on his shirt but that's it.”

oh. so not that differently.

“well, i'm sure he’ll appreciate you remembering that,” you chuckle, ruffling his hair. with a long sigh, you decide to not bring it up. it’ll come back to him, surely. you’ll wait for him to come to you about it.

you lift his head off your lap and let him sink back into the pillows. “how about you freshen up and i’ll make you some toast?”

his eyes peek open, barely. “yes please,” he replies meekly, a small smile in tow.

you put slices of bread into the toaster on his counter, leaning against it as you wait. what happens if he doesn't remember? will you tell him? how do you even bring that up?

hey spencer! last night you told me you love me. do you?

the loud spring of the toaster startles you back to the moment. behind his bedroom door, you can hear the faint sound of his shower running and you remember you’re still in his clothes. god, you're gonna have to wear yesterday's clothes back home. you mindlessly take the hot toast out and set it on a plate, wincing when you hold them for too long. you put 2 more slices of bread in, for you of course.

you decide to make some eggs too, pulling the carton out of the fridge and getting a pan from beside his sink. you move with surprising ease through his kitchen, like you’d been there before. you haven't, but again, it's so easy with spencer, it apparently extends to his home too. you hum absentmindedly, cracking an egg into a bowl and beating it with a fork. you don’t know it yet but spencer's watching you, having finished his shower.

it all comes back to him slowly, as he puts on a new change of clothes, skin still a little damp.

asking penelope for a drink, drinking it, thinking, thinking about you, you showing up? maybe he was magic. you sitting with him, talking to him, taking him home. he remembers stumbling up the stairs, his arm thrown haphazardly over your shoulders and yours hooked around his waist.

“you're so nice, y’know?”

“yeah? you won't think so tomorrow morning.”

you tucked him in, stayed when he asked you to. you told him about your breakup and he told you, oh, he told you he loved you.

shit.

he has to make this right. he's quick to feed his arm into the last sleeve and walk out of his room. however, he stops when he sees you. swaying lightly, humming a tune he recognises from last night, standing there in his clothes. he thinks he might die. clearly, he wasn’t paying much at all when he woke up earlier. damn headache.

“i told you i loved you.”

your head snaps in his direction, unaware of his presence. you jump a little before calming. “yeah... you did,” you confirm, trying to keep your tone light. it wasn't a question but you still answer. he remembers.

“and you told me to tell you again when i wake up,” he recalls.

you chuckle quietly, “i didn't realise you heard that.”

“i did.”

you nod, slowly, expectantly, for him to say something else, anything else.

“i love you.” there it is.

“you mean that?” your voice comes out way smaller than you intended. he still hasn't moved.

“of course i do,” he says with a sigh, inching his way closer. you look like you're going to spook.

“okay,” you breathe, looking down at your fingers, you begin to ramble. “it's just, last night- you were drunk and sleepy and well, tired and i didnt know if you were being honest or just saying it on whim.”

he's suddenly in front of you and you can't look at him. he's fine with that, it makes it slightly easier.

“hey, i mean it. i love you. i’m sorry i said it how i did, it wasn't fair. and you don't have to say anything back, i just- want you to know.”

you look up at him now, eyes searching, and when you find sincerity in his eyes, you soften, muttering out a quiet “okay.” your lips twist to the side, trying not to smile, but glee fills out every nook and cranny of your body. he takes this as a good sign and lets out the breath he didn't realise he was holding, smiling back at you.

“so,” you start, seemingly casual. “how do you take your eggs?”

spencer laughs, amused by your change in topic. he nods toward the bowl of already beaten eggs, “scrambled.”

you nod, firmly. you pick up the bowl and move to the stovetop, but not before grabbing his fingers with your free hand and pulling him with you.

your thumb glides along the curve of his forefinger as you hold it between your bodies, waiting for the pan to heat up. you’re biting your lip so much, you think you might draw blood. you’re unbearably happy. and you think you’re doing a good job of hiding it but you’re not. spencer can see the way you giddily twitch by his side, opting on not saying anything about it as he smiles softly.

“you love me,” you tease, singsong, dragging out the ‘love’. your head leans against his shoulder.

“mhm,” he confirms. ”you’re never gonna let me live this down, huh?”

“nope,” you chirp, pressing a chaste kiss to his shirt.

reblogs and replies are appreciated | m.list

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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icarusredwings · 3 days ago

Text

Obedient demons, devlish Angels.

Wade is so bad at his job he almost starves to death. And Logan is so bad at his, that he makes sure He dosn't.

Tw: depiction of rejection sensitivity, vauge sex, open/closed relationship dynamics, sick/ill demons, "eating" problems, what the title says.

@nuggetpool-hi

No one:

Wade, rubbing up against Logan like a cat: Plllleeeeaaasseee?? Pretty please? I'm staaarrvvinngg Loagie!

Logan, sitting in a chair reviewing the bible: You just ate yesterday; Wade. You aren't starving...

Wade: Yes, I am! You left me here to go spend the night with kurt so Im hungry! Honest! Please?? I'll be quick! You won't even know im down there-

Logan: Enough! I'm tired of this. Stop. Every time I come back, all you wanna do is have sex and I know you kinda have too but I dont want to! Do you ever think about that? Do you ever stop and wonder if I even want to?!

Wade, backing away, tail tucked: ......i-.. I do all the time...

Logan: Apprently not because I already said no! And you just keep-.....

Wade: *anxiously picking at his nails, head down and clearly ashamed to just exist* ....sorry...

Logan: No... Wait- Wade no... I didnt-

Wade, already crying, streaks of red coming down his neck and cheeks: n-no.. Its okay.. i-I wont ask anymore..

Logan: *sighs* I didn't mean it like that... Im just.. frustrated...

Wade, hurt, tears falling: I-its fine.. really. I Just..y-youre so nice to me when-.. when we do it and..and..

Logan, getting up: *reaches out a hand* No, Wade, I didn't mean to- You dont have to find someone else. Ill do it, Just.. just gimme a second okay?

Wade, shaking his head, backing up: No.. I-i wont ask anymore. It's fine.. dont worry about it..

Logan, watching Wade lay down and curl up on his side of the bed, now feeling terrible: ...so... y-you aren't hungry anymore..? Or.. cause we can! I dont mind Its just... *another sigh* Look. Wade.. I don't want you to be hungry..

Wade, whispering: I'll be okay...

Logan then puts his stuff away, trying to pull Wade close. He's squirming, trying to shy away but Logan forces him to stay in his chest, kissing his forehead and softly apologizing. Wade's bloody face heightens Logans primal angelic insticts, fighting the adrenaline rush of battle to keep his touches gentle, rubbing his back with slit yellow eyes. Being a warrior of the lord was difficult when demon bloods scent alone activated the strong desire to overcome evil, esspecially when the one in your arms isn't evil at all, just forever hungry.

*The next day*

Logan: Waade. Im back! Let me eat real quick and ill feed ya.

Wade: *streatches and yawns* Mmh Nah.

Logan: Nah? But yesterday you were whining about how hungry you were.

Wade: Im not hungry anymore. Got some pathetic sap in the chapel.

Logan:...... you..got someone else?;

Wade, non sarcastically, if anything simply explaining: Yeah. Thought you were getting tired of feeding me so.. you know. Besides. Gotta keep the sinners coming back right? Heh heh."

Logan: .....Yeah.... yeah.. thats fine.. thats.... who was it?

Wade: i...I dont know? Just some guy. Fuck, Angel, If I didnt know any better Id say you're acting.... jealous~"

Logan, biting his tounge: No! I just dont-...nevermind..

Wade: You don't like what?

Logan, thinking, his chest tight: I... I don't like you feeding on others.

Wade, gasping: Really!?

Logan: B-but its not like that!! I-i just mean- what kind of an angel would I be if i let a demon feed on the innocent?

Wade, now giggling: Ohh yeaahh suuuree

Logan, finally coming to lay down: Im serious!! You might accidently drain them too much and then what would that make me? A terrible protector. Thats what.

Wade, now pulling his face close, holding his cheeks lovingly: D'aaaaaww~ Loagie baby dosn't want me sleeping around on him? My big brave strong angel boy wants this demon ass all to himself? Hm??

Logan, blushing: No!! I didn't say that! Im just doing my duty as an angel to protect citizens and-

Wade is smirking: Oh yes, your civil duty of fucking a succubus every day, right? Liks you Sooo dont love my tight ass? Hm? And when I nip your balls or when-

Logan, completly red: ENOUGH! ..S-shut up..

This bickering and banter goes on for a while longer before they end up cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms. Wade feels loved in an emotional sense, it feels much better then the other 'love' he got ealier.

*the next x 7 days*

Logan: Hey Wade. Service ended early today and Kurt has a meeting. So im all yours. What do you w-.... Wade? Are you alright?

Wade, weak, curled up inside of the blanket: ....

Logan: Wade?? Come on, don't trick me. Whats wrong? *puts his hand on his forehead. He has a fever but he's shaking. Or was he just hot cause hes a demon? Either way, hes too warm for Logan's liking.* Do demons get sick?

Wade, clinging to his hand with his own, desperate for attention and affection: .. Please..

Logan: Please what? What do you need?

Wade, whos clamy, breathing uneven, and who is now whimpering: N-nothin... i-im fine.

Logan: Wade... tell me whats wrong.

Wade, shaking his head: N-no...I-i dont want to ask anymore..

Logan, finally getting it, realizing that this last week has been all cuddles. He hasn't fed Wade in an entire week: Come on. Get up, Ill-

Wade, whining as if it hurts to talk: I can't..

Logan, now worrying: Y-you cant get up? Oohh.... fuck wade!! Why didn't you say anything!? When I said I didn't want too at that moment I didn't mean starve yourself to death!! Shit!.. okay.. uhm..

Wade, tearing up, silent and holding his hand, logan is squeezing it: ...Im sorry... i-i didnt want to make you upset...

Logan, panicking: Why didn't you just-?!

Its now Logan remembers telling Wade he isn't allowed to feed on the church goers or clergy anymore. He feels terrible.

Logan: You... you listened.. you obeyed an angel?

Wade, eyes closed, trying to ignore his pain: Only my angel...

Logan, smiling, feeling himself tear up. One drops onto Wade.

Wade, whining because angel tears are holy water: OWCH!! W-whhhy??

Logan: Sorry! Sorry I just.. *wipes eyes* Im going to fix this. I promise. Can I fix it? Please?

Wade: If youre asking consent to fuck me then Yes.

And so Logan does. Connecting their foreheads, their tears softly mixing into a slight diluted sting each time they touched one another, kissing like it was the end of the world, the passion and adjustments Logan had is slow. Tender. And passionate. The kind you only really gave to a loyal lover who you've just returned to. A farmilar feeling of home and satisfaction feeding Wade back to health. They must have fucked at least three times that night because in the morning Wade was springy as ever, like a spring chicken being put into a new pasture, the old tired cock trailing behind just happy that the hen was healthy again.

#succubus au #angel au #angel logan #succubus wade #demon wade #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws #wade x logan

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prof-peach · 7 hours ago

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Heya Professor! Kinda strange question, and I'm not entirely sure if you're the right person to ask, but as someone moving to a rural community to give my hand at some good old fashioned farming, what kind of partners would you recommend for good farm companions or help around the farm? I'm ok with pretty much any kind of pokemon out there, I just don't know where to start looking. Thanks professor, stay safe this Halloween!

Well, speaking from experience, you need a nice even spread to make your life easier work wise, but with a wide selection of pokemon, you end up with more work on top of an already long days schedule.

fire types can be used for destroying diseased materials, controlled burnings, and tend to be great at pest control.

water types obviously help to keep produce watered, and can reduce time spent hose in hand.

grass types have a natrual affinity to the work, many showing beneficial properties that aid in plant growth.

rural may mean power cuts, not great if youre storing goods that are perishable in freezeres and such. Electric types can pick up the slack if theres blackouts.

ground and rock types for tilling soil and improving the dirts quality easier. Steel types can do this work well too.

flying types for pest control, pollination aid with certain crops, and keeping your location observed and secured. they also do well to fight wildfires if youre in a vulnerable area.

fairy and dragons dont serve much purpose, but in their own right can lend a hand, pick up a watering can, move heavy items, and otherwise muck in.

bugs are often seen as pests but some will eat others, and keep the invasive bug types down, and away from crops.

ghost and dark types make great night patrols.

psychics can see when the weather will roll in bad, and give you a heads up.

Normal types are the single most adaptive species out there, and can do a number of thes tasks with the right moveset.

poison even hold their place in the environment. Some being able to pull toxins from the soil or water, or dispose of otherwise non-recyclable waste.

fighting types are great guards and can lift and shift the heaviest of things with relative ease.

This is not even considering if youre breaching into livestock keeping, i assumed youd just be a produce grower. If you want to grow cut flowers, or herd pokemon, its a whole other set of options.

Look, all im saying is you got a WHOLE heap of options. If it was me, i'd see what comes my way. Get working, dig in, and pokemon who want to be part of it will find you, and partake. You'll natrually form bonds and friendships with time, and isnt work so much nicer when you actualy want to do it? and have things around you who also want to be there?

#prof.peach #pokemon #peach talks

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obscureother · 5 hours ago

Text

i rolled the f/o wheel so we're doing inkubus next. -v-

old man slasher demon for those who need the warning. his name is literally "Inkubus," for further note on him. .

What do your f/o's hugs feel like? very tight and protective. . he wont let anyone else keep me from him 👉🏻 👈🏻 but he can be gentle, holds with one arm under his coat sometimes or both arms keep me close to him. .

What are your favorite dates to have with them? i like when he shows me secrets in the dark spooky places :0 he can be very fancy and cool sometimes with money he poofs into existence with his demon magic (cos man does not have a job. his existence IS his job.) but i mostly just like going through the darkness with him. .

What are their favorite dates to have with you? i think he also likes those very one on one, private wander-through-the-dark nights. . there's nothing else to keep our attention off each other like dinner or some event (although he doesnt mind going to those either), so he gets to absorb all the attention he gets basked in lol. it is also very intimate, in a way, that isnt something he is used to doing with others.

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you? i have a couple of them, but one that is more of a comfort song between us is Mr. Kitty "After Dark." I think it is mostly the noise of the song, but the lyrics some too. i forgot to do it on the last one, but i dont really know if i could guess songs they have for me. . i dont normally think of the reverse of these types of questions cos idk how f/o always perceives me lol. he does tease sometimes about how i pout referencing Jazmin Bean "Puppy Pound" because he's heard me listen to it, although he doesnt treat me like the supposed person being "sung to" in that song (he has a superiority complex but he doesnt treat me like nothing lol)

What's the height difference between you and your f/o? he is tall 😳 he's 6'0. Going from the middle height between me and s/i 1 who are only a couple inches apart, he is roughly. . 8 inches taller, i think. . not including horns in his demon form.

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you? it is hard to say. . he does not normally do things in public deliberately (not that he's against it, he just. . doesnt really do that more or less commonly.) unless he feels the need to like someone is trying to get s/i 1's attention that he does not like for them to have, to which he will 100% 10/10 do something about it even if it is only some kind of semi-slow kiss before muttering something like "we need to keep going, my dear. tell the man goodbye. :)" ya he's a jealous f/o. . dont mind him. jshflks-

What's your favorite feature about your f/o? mmmmbbb demon form :)) i like his horns. GOAT MAN, GOAT MAN- i do like his goat lap :0 and his lil goatee. .

What do you think they smell like? he gets the colognes he knows are sort of. . night time, "come close to me," warm or vintage smells. . theyre probably fancy old ones. .

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love. if he is tender in. . any way. that is love from him. he is not known for being gentle or caring. one would even say it is the polar opposite of what he is normally. but when he silently helps take care of you or something for you, that is him not wanting to admit that he does care and consider your comfort or needs or convenience but he does things for you anyway. fixing your shirt, helping you get out of bed, making sure youre fed or that youre not hurt somehow. . he does not ask people those things or do them for just everybody. you must remember that he is normally a terrible demon who manipulates people for nothing but his own amusement or use. he does not normally say "i love you," sometimes it is even hard for him to return it with "i love you too" instead of going "yes, i know you love me :))" but when he does, you can get him to say "i love you/i love you too" if you simply wonder of him of how he feels. if you are seen as "not inferior to him," basically, that is also him liking you (assuming its not a rivalry sense for other demons). if he is hanging out with you and not somehow exploiting you for lust energy or blood or horrible manipulation, that is also him caring about you or your company. He could be doing anything right now, things that would feed him or help him towards becoming the most apex demon of all time. . but he is here with you instead. he's a very selfish man, but if he likes you. . he becomes slightly less selfish on rare occasion. until he loves you. then youre not getting rid of him. you get to listen to his superiority complex all the time in your ear. :))

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them? sometimes he does sleep with me, yes. . he doesnt always actually sleep, but he will lay there like a haunting guard. other times he stays in the room, he may have things to do during the night (he's a very particular demon if you did not already figure that out.) but he normally does like to lay with me or s/i 1. he doesnt have his own place normally besides returning to hell on occasion for things he needs, so he usually stays with the person he's attached to sometimes if he has nothing to do other than to keep them safe or from missing him for too long.

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o? most headcanons i have are ones ive made cos half of his lore is MINE. *chomp.* but i do like the ones about how his demon forms are or work. like the only reason he turns into his little black goat form (its not little actually, he's like. . a mountain goat size or so i would think.) is because s/i 1 loves him as a goat :D he is cute and fluffy and silly and he makes funny noises and he is less than impressed with goats as but mere insignificant creatures but he supposes he can use it for incognito sometimes. . and for s /i 1 to hold him on her lap. . on rare occasion. blood moon rare occasion.

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have? [ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ ᴀ ᴄ ᴛ ᴇ ᴅ . ] sorry wow what a funny glitch, uhmbb,, anyway-

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day? he holds me and plays with my hair. . he mutters to me things to make me feel better, or keeps me to him in his coat in his wings. he protects me from other things bothering me. on a more specific note, he does help a lot with things in the dark. he goes to stand by the door to keep the monsters away. he looks to me to tell me that the shadow im seeing is just him, or if the shadow is scary, he turns to the shadow to get it to go away. he big scary demon. . he doesnt let them come into my room. .

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like? he doesnt much do it himself other than to keep me or s/i 1 from running off cos we get distracted from things :0 but he does let me hold his hand if i want to tho uvu sometimes s/i 1 will get to hold his tail, but only if he says so. . his hand usually holds firm. not hard exactly, but tight to keep grasp of me or s/i 1 to keep us close to himb, but he can be very gentle and careful of us when he is talking to us or holding us on his lap.

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) he does give kisses sometimes. . mostly they are private ones, but he does very sensual things. . he likes to give neck kisses, back kisses, or wrist kisses i think, but sometimes when he is being tender he will give temple or forehead kisses. . dont tell him i told you these things btw lol. he gets mad at me when i reveal his secrets -v-

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them? i love to give him kisses :D i give him kisses on his horns and forehead and cheekies uvu sometimes i kiss his chest and arms fbgkhdf <33

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o? i play with his tail like a cat toy. technically im not supposed to touch his tail or horns without his permission, but sometimes he lets me almost play with it 👀 where i can "try" to catch it, but not really, i just get really close. . but if i accidentally bump it for those things, he wont get mad at me for them. he just looks at me funny like he's suspicious of me but not really hbfsj <33

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one? idk how much depth i can really go into because it can sometimes tend towards a more spicy sense, but know it is not always in a spicy sense. most of the time its not. but he calls me "pet". . but i just mostly like to be called "his," i like when he goes "mine". . 👉🏻 👈🏻

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them? there's not good words to describe him to me. . he is just the prettiest demon to me. . i call him lots of things, but generally it is just things like calling him pretty goat man or that he is the handsomest demon. . as for nicknames:

ink inku inkioli inkybus bus-bus inku binku inky binky inky bonky onky bonky inkibink onkibonk binky boo inky doo inkus binkus inkers binkers inker bink-bus dinkus beepus binkees inky-bees inkybebop ink-bonk inkububs binky winky binky dink inky wink binku bee boo binkuboo binky bonk binkerbus binkubees beepus dinkubus beep-bus beepers jeepers where'd you get them binkers-

he loves those, i swear :)) (he doesnt, he's less than enthused, but he takes them anyway only from the one person he lets get away with most things. .)

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

#🌑 obscure f/o: 🖤#these are going to queue or schedule :0 #so there will probably be one a day until i get through the f/os i would do unless i dont tumblr correctly lol #edit: i give up on fixing this one's stupid formatting. plz just tURN THE LETTERS BLUE-

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elliezlils11utt · 1 day ago

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Hi babess ! Could I please request a Ellie or Abby with a reader that has ADHD ? Personally have it and honestly it would be amazing to read you writing about it ❤️ DONT WORRY TAKE YOUR TIME BABES

‧₊˚ ☆ ୭ ✧˖°

ellie x reader!with adhd

a/n: EKK I HAVNT GOTTEN A REQUEST IN FOREVER! IM SO HAPPYYY. and yes yes ofc!! i have adhd too so this was fun! ( collage au, and loser!ellie ofc)

‧₊˚ ☆ ୭ ✧˖°

☆ ellie keeps you in check whenever you need it. when you cant stay focused she’ll make sure your doing what you need to, by checking in on you, or maybe taking breaks with you to do something else. she definitely has like a reward system for you too. like every 30 minutes you study you two play a match of mario cart or something. “ellliahhhh how much longer on the timer???”

“u got 10 minutes. keep going babe”

“are you suree??” ellie holds up her phone timer and you groan.

“and oh, dont worry ill kick ur but in the next round too.” ellie sarcastically added as she turned back to her own studies. you pick up the nearest pillow and chuck it at her.

“asshole!” you giggle.

☆ ellie loves listening to you ramble about the most irrelevant stuff. oh and she finds it so adorable when you lose train of thought and switches subjects. “wait what was i talking about before?”

“how water isn’t wet.. i think?”

“OH RIGHT! like it doesnt make s-“

and then she’ll just giggle at you questioning science for the sixth time today.

☆ finds you’re collection of random shit absolutely adorable.

“and whats this?”

“oh, thats my goggly eye collection!”

“and this one?”

“my rubber duck collection. duh?” you then proceeded to explain to her how every duck you collect gets its own name and backstory, THENNN tell her all their names and backstories. she try’s to keep up with all the names and relationships between the ducks & has to asks shit ton of questions.

“wait okay, so jack and millie are dating, but jack is from another pond so millie cheats on him with sarah??”

“yes exactly.”

“scandals” she giggles and fakes her shock.

☆ okay so we know ellie’s more laid back and chill, but when you’re mind starts going crazy, so does hers and she’s bouncing off the walls with you. so now all the sudden both of you are singing Katy parry, jumping on the couch. no music playing, just y’all’s off pitch voices attempting to hit those notes and failing horribly.

☆ and ellie will pick up your proscription every month so you don’t have to. you don’t have to tell her to, and honestly you’d forget yourself if she didn’t do it for you. you’ll just find the new bottle sitting on the bedside table in your dorm when you get back from your lectures.

☆ going off that a little, i think she probably has copy’s of your dorm keys & shit like that so you dont loose anything. she keeps it on her carabiner.

☆ OOUU OUUU ANNNDDD SPEAKING OF. she bought you a carabiner one year for your birthday before your freshmen year, and by the end of it you had lost it.. with all of your belongings too.! so guess its a good thing ellie keeps extras huh?

#tlou2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #girl in red #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #wlw #lesbian #wuh luh wuh #loser!ellie x reader #loser!ellie #MakeEllieSubAgain2025

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jasontoddspussy · 2 days ago

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hanahaki au. but the disease/curse is built so that if its strong enough it'll like, give symptoms to whoever is the cause of the thing in the first place.

jason has hanahaki. his hanahaki is caused by his self hate, and jealousy. he's deep deep down envious of dick. he wants to be loved so, so badly. he wants to have a family. and yet he was betrayed. the bats dont like or trust him. he hates himself so so much.

and the hanahaki seizes him then. making him cough up blue flowers (im unsure which yet, this is just like base idea)

its so strong that *dick* coughs up flowers - marigolds. and he's like. wtf. he contacts and talks to raven abt it who tells him the curse isn't within him - whoever that flower represents is the one dying right now. and dick being dick finds out its jason and tries to save him. he tries to like. hang out with jason more. he tries to be there for him. and jason is aggresive and annoyed and finally ends up coughing up bloody flowers and dicks like please, jay. you know i love you. and jasons like. no, you don't. not in the way i need you to.

what jason means; you don't love who i am now, you love the dead kid i was. you don't trust me now. you wish i was still dead and that i'd never come back to life.

what dick *Thinks* jason means: i'm in love with you, but i know you see me as only a brother and that you can't reciprocate.

and dick thinks to himself "oh god. jasons in love with me." and decides then and there, that he's gonna beat the curse into the ground with the affection that jason needs, because the curse will "wilt" away if it's tricked into thinking the love is returned. he's gonna have to act like an interested lover, he thinks, or else jason will die.

he starts out slowly. initiating more body contact. he has to be slow or else jason will realise whats going on and then he might die quicker. it takes him weeks but jasons drunk and they're together drinking and dick kisses him, pretending to be drunk (he's tipsy but nowhere near as drunk as jason is) and jasons like ? dickie? what're you...doing? we- you shouldn't do this, we shouldn't- we're siblings- and dicks like shh sh it's okay jaybird, i got you it's okay

they kiss but it turns into making out and dick *loathes* that he can just do that while jason is all blushing and kinda innocent/confused, that he can do this to his *Brother* - and jasons like you cant be serious, you want to- to have sex? with *me*? and dicks like well, if you want to. we can also not. and jasons like why would you want to do that with me. we're siblings. and dicks like "you're a crimelord, jason" and jasons like yeah but also have you seen me? im more scar tissue than flesh. i have a pussy, im big and hairy and-

and dick hasn't looked at jasons body naked like that. he hasn't studied him. he couldn't bring himself to. and jasons still like. going on about how he doesn't understand how anyone, much less golden boy dick grayson, could look at him and see something attractive. and dick feels so, so guilty abt doing this but he can't stop, he has to keep going to save jason's life.

in the smut scene it's like... dick is trying to tell jason he's gorgeous and what not bcs it doesnt sound like jason has a lot of confidence, which is a surprise to him, and instead of letting himself think too much about it, he.. hotdogs? him is that the term, and jasons just flushed and pliant and needy and dicks like... i got condoms and lube... if you want to? and jason says ok. but uh. i dont know what im doing.. im..ive never done this. before. so, uh. yeah. and dick screams inside himself at the fact he's taking his little brother's virginity but outside just nods and assures jason its okay, they're safe here this is okay-

i havent decided yet if this is purposeful or not but the condom is broken. and jason ends up getting knocked up. and dick is so confused bcs the curse should be done but it's *not*-

and he realises...

he may... not have any idea about who jason is. because red hood, the man he thought he knew, is a dramatic, extremely talented fighter & assassin who is cunning and a masterplanner, self assured and a hardass.

but the drunk jason was just a mess of self-hate and maybe- maybe the curse isn't because he's in love with dick, but because he's in love with what dick *has*, because jason hates himself and dick-

dick just fucked his little brother and he may or may not have fucked their entire relationship up.

#jason todd #dc #batman #dick grayson #dickjay #jaydick #cw dubcon #fanfic idea

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n0vazsq · 3 days ago

Text

Madrid girl | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x sainz!gf!reader

summary . . . Marc loves you, a.k.a his Madrid girl, very much, so why not brag about you to the entire world?

request . . . yes!! based on this request! (accidentaly deleted the new req so i had to use the old one)

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none! reader is youngest sainz and is 17!! ALSO convos between carlos, reader and marc (basically spanish speakers) will be in spanish but written in english bc i dont want to bother with wrong translation <3

faceclaim . . . various girls from pinterest!

alexavia yaps . . . pt 2 to barcelona boy ??? could be read as a standalone idk but yeah im grinding to get stuff out so yes!! its veryy short but i hope you gays like it!!!!! kinda shitty too sigh

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lando_norris, marcbernal_ and 721K others

yourusername oh how i love the holidays Tagged: carlossainz55, marcbernal_, lando_norris

click to view all comments

carlossainz55 why are you drinking wine??? youre 17??? underage??

yourusername we're in europe

carlossainz55 that's still underage

lando_norris she's drinking wine now???

marcbernal_ don't worry guys she didn't drink it i made sure she just took photos for the aesthetic

lando_norris thank you marc (carlossainz55 SEE? I TOLD YOU HE WAS THE ONE)

carlossainz55 yes thank you marc (I HAD THE RIGHT TO BE SUSPICIOUS ITS MY BABY SISTER)

yourusername you know we can see this?

marcbernal_ leave them alone, mi amor, they'll figure it out

username151 oh jolly this is so beautiful

username152 THE AESTHETIC ATE UPPPPPP

username153 marc and lando on holiday with the sainz family????

username154 thats adorable omgggg

username155 sigh im in love with them

username156 your honour i love them

marcbernal_ this is beautiful but not as beautiful as you

yourusername MI AMOR STOP THIS IS TOO SWEET

marcbernal_ YOU DESERVE WAY MORE THAN THIS MI CIELO

yourusername I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

marcbernal_ I LOVE YOU MORE

username157 why are they communacting in caps??

username158 i have no idea but let them be

username159 oh to be rich

username160 living vicarously through them

username161 sigh i wish i was y/n or even a sainz

username162 id LOVE to be her maid or sum

username163 Y/N GIVE US MARC CONTENT !!!!!!!!!

username164 REAL

username165 im STARVING for carlos pics

username166 to be hot and have a hot boyfriend is the LIFE

lando_norris i guess those pictures you nearly killed yourself to take were worth it after all

yourusername they always are you muppet

lando_norris OI dont go around stealing my phrase

yourusername how about no ❤

lando_norris ill tell marcbernal_ about tuesday night

yourusername WHYD YOU @ HIM

marcbernal_ what tuesday night??

yourusername YOU DONT NEED TO KNOW

lando_norris it was basically when y/n was SBFDSTGAYUIKOL:

carlossainz55 is lando okay??

lando_norris this is y/n i took his phone

marcbernal_ mi cielo please give him the back the phone and come here

yourusername coming!!

lando_norris haha

lando_norris sorry

username167 this is the meaning of chaos

username168 PURE HAVOC

username169 now i understand why carlos sainz sr never invited lando and y/n on the same vacation

username170 we NEED to know about tuesday night

username171 YES OMG

username172 id sell my left kidney to know

username173 THE AESHETIC. MOTHER Y/N ATEEE

lamineyamal these pictures are pretty

yourusername they always are

lamineyamal well

paucubarsi just admit the truth we both deny

lamineyamal they are always pretty

yourusername thank you pau <3

username174 on my fucking knees for her

marcbernal_ mi cielo do you know youre a very good photographer?

yourusername amorr thank youuuuu

marcbernal_ i love the photos you take of me

yourusername having a very beautiful and attractive subject helps

marcbernal_ says the most beautiful girl on this earth

username175 didnt expect y/n to be so cheesy

username176 id die and come back just to experience these photos

username177 our queen is gaining fame dni

username178 is it bad that im making heart eyes at her

username179 totally not, i too am making heart eyes at y/n sainz

username180 my beloved madrid girl and her barcelona boy

marcbernal_

liked by yourusername, lamineyamal, paucubarsi and 1M others

marcbernal_ winter in switzerland ft my favourite madrid girl Tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

username181 HE CALLED HER HIS MADRID GIRL NOT A DRILL EVERYONE

username182 THE SNOW CAT STOPPPPPPP AND THE HEARTS???

username183 THIS IS ROMANTIC OMGGGG

username184 i can tell y/n took these pics or chose them bc marc will NEVER be this aesthetic

username185 if i was marc id die in fear of losing y/n

lamineyamal ahhh i see see

marcbernal_ what do you see

lamineyamal you two are official huh

marcbernal_ we've been official for like a year?

lamineyamal but not official enough to go on family holidays

paucubarsi lamine is correct

yourusername guys we dont wan tyou hear

lamineyamal is she okay?

marcbernal_ she mightve drunk some wine when i wasnt looking....

carlossainz55 MARC????

yourusername why are you lurking

carlossainz55 just want to see that there's nothing inappropriate going on

yourusername go make heart eyes at lando or something

carlossainz55 ????

lamineyamal i love watching y/n and carlos fight

paucubarsi me too

marcbernal_ just be glad youre not the reason theyre fighting

lando_norris i dont approve of this conversation

username186 not y/n leaving an imprint on marc's aesthetic im crying

username187 im crying the la masia kids and y/n get so along

username188 im so glad they do bc if they didnt i wouldve died

username187 real tho

username189 ate and left no crumbs

username190 no because whyd he lowkey eat

username191 frr

username192 Y/N LOOKS SO CUTE AWWWW

username193 THE SNOW HEARTS IM MELTING

username194 no one can make me feel this way than these two

username195 anyone who witness's this love irl is the luckiest person on earth

username196 id kill to be a wag AND be related to an f1 driver

username197 love how half of us forgot this was marc's acc bc of the y/n influence

username198 this screams old money oml

username199 sainz-bernal is such a fire last name tho??

username200 IKR?? like spanish royalty frr

username201 theyre kids will be lucky aslll

username202 face card NEVER declines

username203 licked the plate clean with this dump

username204 aesthetic jumpscare

yourusername marc this is so pretty

marcbernal_ youre so pretty

yourusername nuh uh you

marcbernal_ kiss me if im so pretty

yourusername come over here

marcbernal_ RUNNING

lando_norris uhm uhm

yourusername what do you want

lando_norris tuesday night

yourusername SHUT UP

marcbernal_ i still want to know what tuesday night is

yourusername you'll know when the time comes

marcbernal_ and that is??

yourusername when you kiss me

marcbernal_ SPRINTING

username205 WHAT. IS. TUESDAY. NIGHT

username206 i want to say that y/n confessed her love for marc but thats too romantic they wouldnt hide it

username207 im hungry for more content

username208 pls feed us more the children are hungry

username209 I SAW THEM AT THE RESTAURANT AND THEY WERE SO CUTE

username210 LUCKY OMG???

username209 THEYRE WERE SO ADORABLE

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, marcbernal_, lamineyamal and 592K others

yourusername everyone look at my boyfriend Tagged: marcbernal_

click to view all comments

username211 HES SO PRETTY

username212 love how she specified that he was her boyfriend in the caption

username213 why is he with someone else in every single pic LMFAO

username214 its like those dating profiles where they put a group pic so ydk which one is them

username213 YEAH LMAO HELP

lamineyamal i can never escape his face

yourusername too bad youll see his gorgeous face the whole time im alive

marcbernal_ youre the gorgeous one here

lamineyamal dont flirt in my replies

username215 i wish i was y/n

username216 bros living the irl 'lucky girl syndrome'

username217 idk which one this is taking about but it fits for both of them

username218 hermosooooooo

paucubarsi someone is looking handsome

marcbernal_ shut up

yourusername hes always handsome

marcbernal_ mi vida you flatter me too much

yourusername its not flattery if its true

lamineyamal dont flirt in pau's replies either

paucubarsi yes

username219 THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND

username220 alexa play that should be me

username221 fathered so hard he tore his ACL

carlossainz55 i didn't want to see my brother in law's face three times

yourusername deal with it

username222 BRITHER IN LAW?!??!?!?!?!

username223 BROTHER IN WHAT?????

username224 THEYRE ENGAGED ALREADY??????!

yourusername HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO SAY SISTERS BOYFRIEND SO HE JUST CALLS HIM BROTHER IN LAW ME AND MARC ARE NOT ENGAGED

yourusername i wish we were though

marcbernal_ soon mi cielo, soon

username225 we got a sainz-bernal engagement before gta 6

username226 not even confirmed yet

username227 i love tthem sm im gonna cry

username228 I WANNA BE YOURS - me to both of them

username229 i will gladly be their pet

username230 ill be the shoe shiner atp

marcbernal_ i love you mi cielo

yourusername i love you more mi amor

marcbernal_ forever?

yourusername always

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

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rinsthighsweat · 13 hours ago

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hi i saw your latest works and they are so good. you wrote that you write nsfw but you dont do it well so can i ask for something light if you dont mind? bllk characters who are more stoic/dominant and all that in normal life but with a very dominant s/o in bed? just headcanons if you want 🦅

Hey anon!!! Thank you so much! And sure, I tried to do it the best I could, I hope you like it, I made it like a mixture of headcanons and fanfics. You didn't name any characters so I decided to put the ones I know the most and like writing about, I hope you don't mind that! Oh yeah, also... Sorry for the delay, I had busy days.

Light nsfw! In these scenarios Rin is already an adult.

They are not dominant in everything

Rin, Barou, Kaiser, Shidou and Aiku | masterlist

۶ৎ Rin Itoshi

Rin has always been in control of his life, his training, his emotions, his career. But when you confidently take the lead in the bedroom, it shakes his world in a way he never anticipated.

The first time you pushed him onto the bed, straddling him with a mischievous smirk, he froze. His sharp eyes widened slightly before narrowing, his voice a mix of defiance and curiosity. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He tries to maintain his stoicism, but the way your hands explore his body, coupled with your commanding tone, has his breath hitching.

Rin isn’t particularly vocal, but the way his body reacts, tense muscles relaxing under your touch, the soft gasps he can’t suppress, says everything.

You teasingly call him out for being so obedient, and his face flushes red as he mutters, “I’m not… I just…” before trailing off, completely at your mercy.

Post-intimacy, he’ll try to act indifferent, turning his face away while his ears burn red. “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with that next time.” But deep down, he craves more.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Barou Shoei

Barou doesn’t relinquish control easily, and the idea of someone dominating him initially makes him scoff. “Like hell you’re calling the shots.” But when you assert yourself, pinning him down, he’s speechless for the first time.

He fights it at first, growling lowly as if to test you, but the firm, confident way you handle him stirs something unexpected within him.

Barou is a mix of frustration and desire, his breaths coming out in heavy pants as he realizes how much he enjoys being at your mercy.

You teasingly tell him he’s more obedient than he lets on, and his prideful glare softens into something almost vulnerable. “Don’t push your luck… but keep going.”

He secretly loves the way you take control, your strength and confidence drawing out a side of him he’s never shown anyone else.

Afterward, he grumbles about being “too lenient,” but his actions betray him as he pulls you close and mutters, “Next time, I’m in charge… maybe.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Michael Kaiser

Kaiser’s cocky attitude doesn’t falter easily, and when you first suggest taking the lead, he smirks and leans back, arms crossed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, liebling.”

His confidence wavers the moment you take control, your bold movements and teasing words leaving him breathless. He tries to regain his composure but fails miserably.

Kaiser loves the way you dominate him, your assertiveness making his usual bravado crumble. His gasps and groans become more desperate the longer you keep him on edge.

He’ll try to tease you back, but his words falter as you keep him under your control. The way you smirk at his vulnerability both frustrates and excites him.

Post-intimacy, he chuckles softly, brushing a hand through his messy hair. “You really know how to leave a man speechless. I might let you take charge more often… if you ask nicely.”

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۶ৎ Shidou Ryusei

Shidou is chaos incarnate, and he thrives on unpredictability. When you take the lead, his initial reaction is pure excitement. “Oh, so you’ve got a wild side, huh? Bring it on.”

He’s the most vocal of them all, moaning, growling, and tossing out filthy comments that only spur you on further. “That’s it, babe. Show me what you’ve got.”

Despite his playful resistance, he loves being at your mercy, the way you tease and control him making his mind spin.

Shidou is all about pushing limits, so he encourages you to be as dominant as you want, his cocky grin never fading even as he’s begging for more.

Afterward, he’s sprawled out with a satisfied smirk, panting as he pulls you into his arms. “Damn, you’re good. Next time, let’s see who can outdo who.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Oliver Aiku

Aiku is smooth and confident, used to being the one in control. But when you turn the tables on him, his usual charm slips, replaced by something more raw and vulnerable.

He watches you with wide eyes as you push him down, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh? Didn’t expect this from you… but I like it.”

He’s surprisingly submissive under your dominance, his deep groans and soft murmurs betraying how much he enjoys being led.

Aiku can’t stop complimenting you throughout, his voice husky as he whispers, “You’re incredible, you know that? Keep going.”

He’s left in awe of your confidence and control, his usual suave demeanor replaced with genuine admiration.

Afterward, he’s all smiles, pulling you close and tracing lazy circles on your back. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Guess I’ve got a lot to look forward to.”

#bllk #bluelock #headcanon #rin itoshi #rin x reader #blue lock headcanons #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #barou shouei #barou x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #oliver aiku #aiku x reader

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marsmaximoff · 8 hours ago

Text

🪩; club pentagon 𖦹₊⋆☾

content warning: ‘long haired’ fem!reader. suggestive. drugs, alcohol.

word count: 1.4k 💜

author’s note: y’all idk what’s happening to me. like i swear when i watched the show i didn’t care about him. in fact i didn’t even like him. and now i can’t stop thinking about his hot face and hands 😔 expect more fics to come cause i’m going crazy. btw, i apologize for the possible mistakes as english is my third language. enjoy <3!

divider by @strangergraphics <3

the colorful lights create a shiny veil over the club. the music reverberating throughout the place, accompanied by loud, excited screams and intoxicated voices, acts as a barrier to the real world.

while i wait for my friend to come back from the bathroom, a guy catches my eye, separated from the rest, in a corner. he must be around my age, a bit older. and i don’t know what it is exactly, but something immediately lures me in. something about his aura, his vibe.... maybe it’s the dark hair, or the tattoos on his arm, the way he’s talking to the man next to him like he’s important...

he looks hot. and like a total dick too.

“you like him?” your friend inquires cheekily, noticing your stare. “i haven’t seen him before.” you don’t forget someone like him. his tall frame and dark clothes adding to the arousing pull i’m feeling. “he’s the reason we’re here. i found the club through him; he promotes it.” “do you know him?” there’s a growing curiosity inside of me, to know more, “not at all”, to get closer. “he looks like a playboy,” she declares, to which i can only agree. “an attractive one, tho.”

on cue, as if he had heard us -impossible given the distance- he takes his eyes from that man and locks his gaze on mine, sending a flutter through my stomach. but i don’t shy away, seeing his eyes go down my body, checking me out, unashamedly. a hussy grin accompanies the action while i keep the intense eye contact going for some time before turning around and heading back to the dance floor. as i do, i feel his gaze slide over my body and smile to myself, satisfied, trying to sensualize my walk a bit.

the night continues as usual: drinks, dancing, some flirting here and there, all that still carrying a boost of confidence from that previous interaction.

eventually, i take a break sitting by the counter, and almost in no time, a smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and something else surrounds me.

“hey” he speaks with confidence and a certain ego; the grin is back where it had been before. he leans on the bar and studies me, daringly, carefully. that seems to fuel my boldness, because my hand moves almost instantly towards his face, slowly. he doesn’t back away or stop me; he doesn’t even flinch. i gather the remaining white powder from the warm skin right over his upper lip with a finger and lower it, showing it to him. “oops, my bad,” he says playfully while grabbing my wrist. then, he brings it to his mouth and licks it off my fingertip without one of us breaking eye contact for a single second. holy. fuck. afterwards, he laughs softly, my heart rate going crazy, “want some? i only have the best.” i shake my head, choosing to keep my drifting lucidity.

my gaze travels down his body until reaching his tattooed arm. “you like ‘em?” “i dont see many people around who have them” “yeah…bunch of pussies. these didnt hurt at all, you know.” the smugness of his words an obvious sign of his eagerness to impress. “you got more?” “oohh, someone’s interested…” i scoff finding his teasing annoying, yet unable to deny the way i have to press my lips together to hold back a smile. “i love tattoos” “yeah? wanna touch?” his comments come off so nonchalantly, flirting a natural habit of his. “i mean, you've already gone for my mouth...” his voice lowers a bit, having the clearly much-expected effect on me, and i give in, my yearning taking my fingers to his arm. the smooth and steamy flesh welcomes me with a satisfying shiver, and the hitch of his breath makes me slow down, caressing softly, seductively.

i don't know if he's trying to contain himself, or enjoying it too much, but i see him biting his lip, and it feels so good to find a tiny crack in his confident facade, the growing heat in my belly seconding it. the initial trace of ink becomes a search of his now more prominent veins, up and down. “i like how it looks.” i give him a final graze, but this time it’s my hand that strokes his arm all the way down his slender, ring-adorned fingers which i hold and toy with before letting go to replace them with my drink, leaving him all greedy for more. his skin on fire.

he’s affected now, trying to break the spell, attempting to somehow regain control while his breathing’s all over the place. cute.

the drink sugars my senses, but it’s not nearly as sweet as the feel of him.

“you like the club?” he goes back to his usual self, his comfort zone, something he can proudly show off. “yeah, i like the ambience” “i can show you around…this place’s my second home.” i know what he's doing, using an excuse to move this somewhere quieter, more private, more comfortable…. but i decide to play a bit with him. “i don’t know… i'm really enjoying this area.” he smirks, “and it only gets better, we don't leave the best within reach of just anyone”, getting closer. “so you’re saying you'll make it worth my time?” he pokes his cheek with his tongue, turning me on even more. fucking tease. “in fact you'll regret it if you don't come.” “mmm…im not sure…maybe i need a preview….” his face is mere millimeters from mine, giving me a perfect view of the mischievous look that takes over his. then, he grabs a small bag from his pocket -more white powder- and pushes my hair away from my shoulder, the contact leaving goosebumps everywhere. when the bareness pleases him, an unfamiliar feeling covers my skin. and then i realize, he’s pouring it on me. jesus christ. he leaves a shivery trail up to my neck, molding it to get a perfect line. his hot breath is getting me dizzy, his hand enveloping the other side of my neck, his allure a dangerous mix with the alcohol. he snorts the line in one, the tip of his nose tickling my burning skin. “yesss, shit baby”, he groans huskily underneath my ear, adding a bit of pressure with his hand, and i feel my wetness starting to become uncomfortable.

he’s laughing when he pulls back, “how’s that for a preview?”, finishing rubbing the remains of his nose. but i can only focus on his fingers, fuck. i need more. “not bad” i try so hard to think of something witty, flirty, to keep the back and forth going, but i can’t. my brain is foggy, my body is flaming, and my belly is killing me with all those damn backflips. “not bad? that’s not nice of you….imma have to do something about that attitude of yours…” i stand up from the stool, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “maybe i do need that tour, a change from the loud music and everything” god i’ve truly become pathetic. and it seems to amuse him, “yeah? i thought you liked the ambience here….” “and i thought you said you’d make it worth my time” i make him smirk again, what a damn sight, and before i know it he’s taking me who knows where.

the moment the door closes behind us, my back is pushed to the wall, his arms caging me. this time, his eyes stay on my lips while he bites his. “fuck, you’re so hot” i can’t hold it anymore. the praise gets to him and makes him snap, harshly pressing our mouths together. the kiss is rough, desperate, as if we were running out of time. i let out a muffled moan as he brings me closer to his warm body and slides one hand towards my neck, adding some pressure. i’ve never had such a messy, intense kiss before, it makes my legs weak. he keeps asserting dominance the whole time, and bites my lip before pulling back and heading towards my neck.

my moans get louder as i feel him leaving hickeys all over my skin. “it’s namgyu”, he corrects me, hovering over my flesh. but the blood is already pounding in my ears. “huh?”

“i want you to know what to moan”

#squid game #namgyu x reader #namgyu x you #player 124 #player 124 x reader #player 124 x you #nam gyu #roh jae won #namgyu x y/n #roh jae won x reader #player 124 x y/n #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #roh jae won x you #Spotify

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