#but I will be the first to admit I am the biggest “he wouldn't fucking say that” re: Baatar that exists LMFAO

[cold-neon-ocean]

ngl I can't really watch LoK and draw fanart of it at the same time because I really give myself whiplash with how I draw/portray the characters [*coughs* Baatar] compared to the show lol like I have indeed deluded my brain into perceiving my AU as the canon.

[hearts4golbach]

Minx.

pairing:

Colby Brock x Fem!Coquette!Reader.

a/n:

first colbs smut 🫡

based on a request but forgot to put it on here, sorry. sent by 🎉

proofread

warnings:

18+ smut, oral sex (f and m recieving), semi-public sex, teasing, slight dom/sub undertones, use of brat, ma, love, baby, sweetheart.

word count:

1.7k

Colby couldn't help but stare whenever you walked around the house in your short skirts. God, you were basically asking for it with the way you bit your lip as you spoke to him. His mind wandered every time you looked up at him with your beautiful e/c eyes, the same ones he'd love to see rolling back into your head.

There was always something going on between the two of you, everyone knew it. Sam insisted the way you felt about eachother was obvious. He said the photo of Colby carrying you inside bridal style was enough proof in itself. (To be fair, you were drunk out of your mind.)

Needless to say, Colby was extremely attracted to your aesthetic. He adored the baby pinks, blues, purples, and white hues you wore. Your pastel pallet made him mentally drool over you. Your opposite aesthetics were the biggest turn on for him. He frequently thought about sliding your sheer white tights off of you and doing things God wouldn't approve of.

You walked through the grocery store, list in hand as Colby followed close behind you, carrying the basket. The list contained only a couple of items that the two of you would need for your next collab video.

Colby observed you closely, watching as your hips swayed, your pale blue skirt hugging your waist tight. Your lacy white top showed your figure well, exposing your cleavage for anyone to see. A twinge of jealousy flashed across his face at the thought.

Colby wrapped his arm around your shoulder, (which wasn't unusual for your friendship.) "Your outfits really cute today." His lips brushed the lobe of your ear as he spoke softly. He made sure only you could hear him.

You felt as if Colby had been throwing around your feelings for months. One day, all he could do was stare at you and make your heart melt with his words. Meanwhile, the next he treated you like you were just some girl. You knew that was just how Colby was, but you were tired of it.

You thought about all the times Colby had tightened his grip on your heart before stabbing you in the back again. It was an endless cycle you wanted to break.

"Make up your fucking mind, Colby." Anger seethe through your voice. You stood on your tippy toes to reach up and grab an item. Colby gripped your waist, his crotch brushing against your ass.

"You know that my mind had been made up." His fingers squeezed the soft flesh of your waist. "You're the one avoiding it, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes and moved out of his grasp. "I'm serious. I don't want to deal with your shit. Stop fucking with my head."

"Then stop being a goddamn brat and let me take you home and show you how serious I am."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes once more, continuing your walk down the isle. You could feel Colbys eyes boring into you. As you thought about his offer, you couldn't decide if he was serious or not. Either way, the thought made arousal pool in your panties.

Colby held a smug smirk on his face as he walked next to you, a non-chalant demeanor to him. "Now who's not being serious?" He mocked.

You ignored him, reading over the list to see if you had forgotten anything. You muttered curses under your breath.

Without a second thought, Colby interlocked his fingers with yours and dragged you towards the back of the store. You didn't pay any mind as to where the basket ended up as Colby locked the family restroom door.

"C'mon, baby. Talk to me." His hand brushed over your cheek.

You crossed your arms. "You need to talk to me!" You emphasized. "Stop going back and forth with me. Do you want me or not, Colby?"

He sighed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Y/n, I want you so fucking bad it scares me sometimes." He admitted as he smirked into your skin, placing light kisses on your neck. "Let me show you."

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Fine. Prove it."

"Jump." He instructed, wrapping his arms unde your thighs as you did so.

He kissed you passionately, placing you on the counter and letting his hands roam your body. He grinded his hard, clothed cock against you, making you let out a quiet moan.

You deepened the kiss, letting your hands begin to unbuckle his jeans. "No," he tsked, "who the fuck said you're in charge?"

You muttered an annoyed apology as Colby began to kiss your chest. His fingers dug into your hips as he sucked dark hickeys on your cleavage. His goal was to make sure everyone knew you were his. You arched into his touch, the feeling of his teeth on your skin making you want to let him take control. You knew you had no choice, Colby was in charge and he had made that very clear.

Colbys hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs, sliding up your skirt and teasing the hem of your lacey white panties. "Can I?"

You nodded, a desperate movement. He placed a soft kiss on your lips as he began to slide your panties down your legs. "Lift up." He said, jaw clenched.

Your panties hung off your ankle as he gently spread your legs, kneeling down in front of you. Without warning, he buried his face in your dripping cunt. "F-fuck." Your hand flew to his messy hair.

"You taste so sweet," he mumbled against your pussy. You writhes under his touch as he abused your sensitive nub.

You moaned out his name as quietly as you could, holding back the noises threatening to escape your lips that'd alarm the whole store. "Co-colby!"

He had your skirt pushed up around your waist. You were driving him absolutely insane with the noises you were making. He kneeded the soft skin of your inner thighs as he worked magic, licking through your folds.

He couldn't get enough, eating you like he was a starved man. Two of his fingers found their way inside of you, slowly pumping to add stimulation. "You're so fuckin' tight, ma." He mumbled. "Can't wait to be inside a'you."

It was almost too much, your thighs clamping around his head. He held them open, his fingers painfully digging into you. He curled his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you, making you shudder. "I-I'm so close.. Please-"

He removed his mouth from your clit with a pop before removing his fingers entirely. You whimpered at the loss of contact, watching carefully as he stood up. "Not yet, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.

Before you knew it, he had you flipped over. You rested your cheek on the cold marble counter, breathing heavily. You looked back, the possessive look in Colbys eyes made your core ache for more. The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance as he slowly entered you. "Fuck- so goddamn tight. You're amazing." He wrapped his fingers in your hair and pulled you up.

Colby kissed your neck as he thrusted inside of you at a slow pace. You attempted to reach back and touch his arm, but he pushed you back down. He grabbed your arm and held it behind your back as he sped up his pace. "so fucking good, Colbs.." You basically drooled over how good he was fucking you.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder. "So perfect." He placed a light tap on your ass as he hit the perfect spot deep inside of you. He choked out a groan as your cunt squeezed him tightly.

You could feel his thick cock stretching you open. Strings of moans and curses fell from your lips, your mind a haze.

He slammed his hips against yours, sounds of skin slapping filled the room. You felt so close to the edge again. "Colby, I-"

"I know, baby. Me too." He breathed heavily. "Where do you want me?"

You cried out as he bottomed out inside of you. "M-mouth. My mouth- please." Your own words shocked you, you couldn't even imagine how Colby felt.

He let out a grunt in agreement, possibly a little too excited at your request. "C'mon, love. Cum on my dick."

He reached his hand around to rub circled on your clit. Your legs shook as you came, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"You did so, so good. Good girl." He purred, pulling out of you.

Without a response, you immediately dropped to your knees. "Open your mouth," he gripped your jaw as he bossed you to submission.

You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes he adored. He could've came at the sight. He thrusted his hips forward, pushing his hard length into your mouth.

"Suck." He instructed, his voice shaking as he tried to remain in control.

You bobbed your head, not bothering starting at a slow pace. He wraps his hand in your hair guidingly. His body tenses as he reaches his climax, his cum covering your mouth. You suck him clean, making him melt under your gaze.

"Swallow. All of it." He pulled his cock out of your mouth, looking down at you with love and lust in his eyes.

You did as he said, keeping eye contact as you swallowed his juices. He reached down, wiping the drool off your chin before helping you back to a standing position.

Your legs wobbled as you walked out of the restroom hand in hand. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, and you prayed it wouldn't be when you got home.

[igotanidea]

Dirty work: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: I am a firm believer that even in his post-patrol haze and surge of energy all Jason Todd needs from his beloved princess are hugs, not fucks and i will die on this hill.

***

The adrenaline was still fuzzing in his system, even after hours and hours of his night job in Gotham. It was stressful and hitting on all his sensitive spots hidden so deep under the surface. Muscles moving in the trained motion he practised milion times before, each instinct spurred on by imagination running wild.

Hurt, scared, innocent kids, left to tend to themselves on the streets.

Ordinary citizens exposed to the aftermath of whatever drama and destruction the mobs and gangs decided to wage that night.

Terror on the street on women who were working the night shift, trying to make a living, make ends meet.

And the same shit going on over and over again every fucking night, because fucking someone had a fucking moral code. Because fucking someone refused to put an end to something terrible, too afraid to stain his fucking soul.

Red Hood didn't have a soul to save anymore.

Not after everything that happened in his life.

Dirty wokrk, but someone had to do it.

One life taken, dozens of other's saved. Felt like constantly being at war and the heat of the fight made it so much easier to forget about the sacrifices made along the way.

Red Hood was strong, tough and ready to take on the hardest responsiblity of cleaning Gotham of scumbags and crimnals.

But after?

Once the first rays of a morning sun loomed on the horizon, Jason knew it was time to go home. Take off the mask. Became an ordinary man once more.

Hoping, wishing and praying she wouldn't kick him out again this time. That she would take him, despite the blood on his hands, the injuries on his body and deep scars on his soul.

Not a Red Hood anymore.

Jason Todd. Human. Man. Boyfiend.

The energy was still high when he climbed to the apartment and stood on the wooden floor, carefullly avoiding that one screetching floarboard, almost stepping on his toes to not wake her.

"Jason."

Years of vigilantism and dealing with shit.

Hightened instincts and senses.

And yet, Y'N's voice in the morning, in the empty, quiet apartment made him jump from surprise, causing her to giggle, causing the surprise to give way to a wave of warm feelings.

"Morning, sunshine."

"Depends. Did you bring me breakfast?" she teased

"Since when do you eat breakfast?"

"It doesn't matter if I do!" she got out of the bed, yawning widely, rubbing her eyes and stepping closer to him, taking his helmet off, mindful of the explosived installed there (biting her tongue to not say something about using a protection that was simultaniously life threatening) "You are supposed to preach me about not eating healthy and feeding me with the best groceries. Croissaints, fancy salads, low fat cheese. All that stuff!"

"Are you for real?" he frowned in confusion upon her words. What was going on here?

"Nah, I'm joking cause I can tell that under all this pose you're tired. Though maybe a bit of laugh would do you good. Even if it;s at my expense" she smiled cupping his cheek and meeting his eyes "What do you need? hugs, kisses, cuddles? Or somehing more intense?" that was an obvious hint she was willing to help if he needed some action to blow off some steam.

"Can you just be with me? I just need your presence next to me. Knowing this is all real and I won't wake up alone again." hearing those words coming from Jason was the biggest leap of faith. He was not the one to admit to feeling tired or that something was weighting on his conscience once out of the mask. Never in the million years. But with her - it was simpler, easier, knowing she would just listen and observe rather than fill the silence with silly questions and talking and preaching and lamenting about his behaviour.

"I'm here. I promise, it's all real. You're not alone." She nodded calmly.

Jason produced the tiniest smile and let her guide him to the warm bed with the soft sheets smelling like her, with her arms wrapped around him like a soft cocoon.

And it was just fine.

No need to talk or to explain or to fight anymore.

Getting rid of this feeling that nothing made sense, his efforts were futile and no one would ever understand him.

Finally, a little bit of peace and maybe - just maybe - the tiniest amount of happiness brought by the steady beating of her heart in his ear and the gentle movement of her fingers in his hair.

True meaning of intimacy between two people.

Bonding for life.

[sozzledjuja]

Mephisto & Praxina - A Relationship Analysis

Because part of me wishes that the twins' dynamic had been more explored in the show, while Mephisto was still "alive".

There are honestly so many scenes, especially in season 2, where you could feel the main underlying issues between them, but they were never actually adressed or explored.

Also, feel free to add your own thoughts, maybe stuff that I missed, or things you disagree with as well.

Let's start with this scene, from Cute As A Doll, which I'm surprised not more people are talking about:

So, Praxina gets hurt by Auriana's blast, and Mephisto immediately stops his chase for Iris to teleport next to his sister, to make sure she's alright.

Aaaaanddd- she yells at him for caring/worrying, telling him to just go after Iris.

LOOK AT HIS FACE BRO. Homeboy was truly worried, but then immediately gets back in the game.

It's easy to just look at the dismissive and "careless" way in which Praxina treats Mephisto most of the time, and rule her off as "heartless". However, this sentiment seems to also be present when HE tries to "connect" or worries about her.

We see this again in Forget You:

She sees attachments and emotions as a sign of weakness and vulnerability, and clearly doesn't allow herself to feel it and lashes out whenever her brother does.

This refusal to accept love and affection is usually born out of an inherent lack of trust in people. It comes from a place of fear. She seems to prefer to remain impartial and formal as much as possible, regardless of how much her brother (or anyone else, for the matter) wishes to get close to her.

When it comes to other people, I believe she simply doesn't trust that the gestures of affection are real/genuine.

Good!Praxina, in Forget You I believe, was less of a "possibly redeemed" Praxina and more of a "blank page" Praxina, as in, what she would've been like had none of the Gramorr or the other bad stuff happened.

Still, let's not forget that Good!Praxina still clearly had some concerning instincts, so some of her less pleasant characteristics like her destructive behavior, lack of empathy, difficulty accepting affection and praise, and connecting with people, were probably already there since the beggining.

Iris said it herself:

Remember, Good!Praxina still didn't like the idea of helping people when the girls first tried to teach her how to be a good person; Only AFTER being exposed to good influences did she actually begin to redirect her energy torwards "good" goals, and I think this proves that, in a different, more positive enviromnent, she would've definetly turned out differently.

But, alas- she didn't, so here I am, writing this big ass psychological assessment. Which is mostly her fault.

Also Mephisto clearly has some issues of his own when it comes to how his sister treats him (which, let's be honest, while I wouldn't call it abusive, she definetly isn't an easy person to care about).

Also the fact that she seems to think he's incapable of doing anything right definetly bothers him more than he lets on.

It's easy to laugh these moments off but there's definetly something much deeper going on.

Again

And again

And again. and this one was fucked up

And in many other times.

Oh- and the fact that she always blames him for everything. Which is another one of Praxina's biggest flaws: an inability to admit fault or take any sort of accountibility. Aaand shifting the blame.

Which he knows, and this is clearly something that he takes and takes, until he snaps.

This moment in If You Can't Beat Them was also really telling on how he actually feels about how his sister never actually shows any appreciation for his contributions, and seems to think he's weaker and less capable of reason as she is.

I genuinely do not know what goes through Praxina's brain to make her do this. I don't know wether she actually genuinely believes he's stupid and fucks everything up or not.

And Gramorr, although he doesn't outright show much preference for Praxina in spite of Mephisto, seems to share the sentiment, given that he appears to be slightly less patient/harsher towards him than his sister.

What I can say is that Praxina definetly believes that he is the weakest link between them (which might seem like it's true at first glance, but I wouldn't be so sure as to state it), which, given the previous statement, might also be a result of Gramorr himself thinking/saying it, since they've probably been training under his wing for quite a long time, which would make her (and Mephisto) easily influenced by his opinion, as an authority figure.

And he might pretend it doesn't effect him, but we all know that deep down it does, and that he's kinda insecure despite all his bravado.

I think Mephisto's always been more sensitive and more "emotionally-inclined" than his sister, even before Gramorr. I believe that both twins have the potential to be good, but Mephisto is definetly more "hardwired" for it than Praxina.

And we already know what she thinks about that: emotion=weakness.

And part of her wants to keep reminding him she's better too. The girl's got a big ego to stroke.

Mephisto also seems to have more morals than his sister.

We can see that throughout the show he's helped the princesses sometimes: Iris, with whom he teamed up with to save his sister in If You Can't Beat Them, in which he even told her he'd be honored to serve her as queen of Ephidea, had circunstances been different, which I truly believe he meant;

And Carissa, in Statue Game, who he ALSO teamed up with to save his sister, and who, let's not forget, he gave the other evil amulet back to, so that the princesses could reverse the spell that turned that human girl into stone.

And when Gramorr got the last gem, Mephisto seemed to actually be horrified by what was happenning.

He clearly wasn't totally fine with enslaving the entire planet.

Praxina, on the other hand, seemed pretty okay with it.

Ecstatic even.

She's relishing in what's happening, that's what she wants. To bend other to her will, to be feared rather than loved, to have power over others.

Maybe not what she needs, but what she WANTS.

Mephisto realizing that is GOLD from a storytelling prespective.

I feel like he looked at her in hopes she'd be as concerned as he was, that they were on the same page about the situation, only to find her- well, laughing. I joked about this being his "oh shit, these people are actually evil" moment, but I think part of him was only surprised with Praxina. Maybe he hadn't realized just how far this "lifestyle" had actually shaped his sister.

We know for sure that Mephisto has higher levels of empathy than Praxina. And common sense. This is why I always disagree when people say that Praxina is smarter than Mephisto. She might be more "logical" and "rational", but neither of those things equate to cleverness. Mephisto seems to be more astute and more intuitive.

Him starting to realize Gramorr was probably not gonna give them shit is a great example of this.

Which Praxina did NOT even think about. She was on a high, thinking about all the power they were gonna have now that Gramorr was free and back in action. Miss girl, you are delusional.

Honestly Praxina's fatal flaws deserve their own separate post.

Because let's be clear: I'm trying to debunk all of the twin's relationship issues, and everytime, it's clear who's actually responsible for everything going badly in the emotional realm.

I love her but she IS the problem. Not saying Mephisto is a poor innocent baby who never did anything wrong his whole life (I'm looking at you, lolirock fandom). He definetly has a lot of flaws and bad traits himself, but he's not the one to blame for anything regarding his and his sister's relationship.

To conclude,

THIS is normal sibling behaviour.

All the rest I showed above this SHOULD. NOT. BE.

This is not me saying they have a bad relationship, but I am saying that they don't have a fantastic one either.

Also, I blame dark magic too. The Team has confirmed it makes them more irritable, so there's that too.

They really care about each other, and I don't doubt that BOTH of them would do anything to keep the other safe. But they got lots of unspoken stuff to talk about.

And are both in desperate need of therapy

[scekrex]

Hello there gorgeous ✨

Prompt idea with reader being a part of a band that's heavily inspired by Babymetal, like the type of music is pop mixed with metal, the outfits, the whole vibe basically. Heaven's got a new band in town and it's reader's band (You can either create a name for them, go without mentioning any name or whatever else you choose to do with that! You can even ask me and we'll both think about the name c:). Adam at first was like "Tf? New band getting popular? Pfft, they probably suck, no one can out-do the first fucking man🙄" but then when Lute asked him to actually go and check it out with her since she got curious when one of the exterminators went there and told her that it was absolutely fucking awesome. They go and it's literally just a blast. The crowd work is astonishing with how the fans, even the shy ones, have no problems with being vocal with the lyrics or movement, the light effects are just top notch, sound quality is gorgeous and clear, the vibe on its own is just one of a kind and Adam is like "Yeah, shit, this is actually really cool, like wtf" but the biggest magic is when he first hears and then sees the reader alongside the two of his like "backup vocals" (I wouldn't really call Mo or Moa that, but I can't find a better word rn) absolutely rocking out, enchanting everyone as if he was some sort of magician, making Adam start questioning his sexuality, simply going "Am I fucking gay? What's actually happening right now?"

Recommendations for like ideal crowd work representation would be any song but my favourite is this one:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=E8pcFhPZQYg&pp=ygUKSGVhZGJhbmdlcg%3D%3D

Light and visual effects I'd probably say this one:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Hru3zh8l2kE&pp=ygUUQmFieW1ldGFsIGRpc3RvcnRpb24%3D

And the one that could work the best in my opinion to like WOW his snarky bitch ass would be this one:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ALznpaBWUTo&pp=ygUMbWV0YWxraW5nZG9t

Rock on my superstar! 🤟🎸❤️

Sup babes, I changed the vibe a lil, going in a more punk-like direction. I don't like describing outfits so the only thing that got a description is reader's vest bc low-key important. Anyway I hope you like it!! xoxo

Part 2

And I dream to be your fantasy

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language & sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

A new band was blowing up in heaven, their posters were everywhere and Adam was already pissed off by it. Who the fuck did they think they were? Playing in his area? Fuck no. He avoided them as best as he could - considering that their posters hung in every window it wasn't that easy to do.

Lute landed next to Adam, she was visibly excited about something so the first man stopped with a sigh and turned around to look at her, “Sir, have you heard about Divine Fuck-Ups?” Adam growled as he gave Lute a nod, “Bitch, their posters are everywhere, how could I fucking not?” Lute simply rolled her eyes at him, “Yeah well, the other exorcists won't shut up about how good they are so,” the exorcist pulled out two concert tickets. Adam looked down at her, his expression a mix between hatred and betrayal. Had Lute seriously bought two tickets to a different band's concert? Especially when that band was playing in his fucking area on his fucking main stage? Apparently she fucking did. “You bought fucking tickets,” Adam grumbled, pointing out the most obvious thing ever. “The concert is tonight, I'll pick you up so we won't be late.” And it was not like Adam could have disagreed with her, Lute was onto something and the brunette was pretty sure she'd move mountains to get his ass to that concert.

-

The concert was… different than what Adam had expected it to be, the crowd was loud and wild, there were multiple mosh pits and none of their fans stood still for even the finest moment, they were constantly moving, vibing, enjoying their music to the brim. The first man had to admit: he was impressed by that. The only thing that bothered him was, that Lute had picked him up so fucking late that they were basically behind the massive crowd, enjoying the concert from the distance which also meant even though Adam was tall, he wasn't seeing shit.

So he simply grabbed Lute's wrist and pulled her with him as he made his way through the crowd, careful not to hurt anyone. Because while he was all for rock ‘n’ roll, the most rock thing to do was to watch out for each other at concerts, a rule he had learned very early.

He had somehow managed to make it to the front row, Lute by his side as he finally laid eyes on you for the first time. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, it was soaked in sweat just like the rest of your body - that was probably the reason why you were shirtless, wearing nothing but a black jeans vest with golden spikes on its shoulders. Your arm was wrapped around the waist of your background singer and you and him shared a microphone as you growled the lyrics of Lute's favorite song.

The background singer that had been in your arm only moments ago, was now dropping to his knees in front of you, grabbing your hips and wiggling them, his face only a couple centimeters away from your crotch, before he quickly got up again. Holy fuck that was hot. Adam was visibly mesmerized by your performance, not just the singing, growling and shouting but the way you owned that stage. The way you made the people go wild, your harmony with your band mates was a once in a lifetime sorta bond and the first man loved everything about it.

The song ended and you breathed heavily into your microphone. “Make some noise for Cove,” you yelled only to lick the man's jaw, Cove - the background singer that had gone down on you during your performance - was enjoying it, a little too much to Adam's liking but who was he to judge? Well he was the first man, that's who he was. “Okay, whatcha say to one more fucking song?” The crowd screamed and cheered, demanding the offered song like it was their air to breathe, shit even Lute screamed at the top of her lungs. Her white hair was all messy, her clothes clung to her body due to her sweating so much and she looked like she had one hell of a time.

The guitarist played the first three cords and the people around Adam were cheering, clapping and whistling. Then the drummer joined in and so did the bassist. Then your voice echoed through the air and Adam felt like he was in trance, all he needed was your voice and your body.

He wasn't able to dance, to enjoy the music, all he was hearing was your angelic sounding voice, it was enchanting through and through. The way you were moving your body held him in a chokehold, the amount of control you must have had over every single muscle was pure bliss in his eyes. He didn't even realize that the last song had ended and that you had just spoken your goodbyes, that's how lost he had been in your voice.

He really didn't understand why but everything inside of him was screaming to get to you, to make you his, to have you. Where those thoughts came from he didn't know, he wasn't gay after all but fuck you had looked hot on stage, better than any woman could have.

-

Don't ask him how, but he had managed to get a backstage pass once the concert had ended, it definitely had its advantages to be the first man. So there he was, waiting for you to arrive and once the door opened his eyes were basically glued onto you. “Hey there babes,” a cocky, confident smirk was on his lips as he pulled his mask off his head. You gave him a quick glance out of the corner of your eye as you walked over to your dresser, “So you're the bitch who thought of him as important enough to get backstage even though my team told ya no, huh?” Adam tilted his chin upwards as if that was something to accomplish, something to be proud of, “The one fucking and only.” You just rolled your eyes at his answer as you turned around to face him properly, “Listen, if you wanna hook up, now's a bad time. I have to get ready for another gig in just a couple of hours on the other side of heaven, be a fucking babe and leave, okay?” Oh but the brunette wasn't planning to, not now, not when he had the person he desired right in front of him. He walked over to you, his hand was quick to grab you by your hip and pull you in, the first man leaned down a little and murmured, “Oh babes, no need to act like you're fucking hard to get, I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

And that actually caused you to chuckle, because the confidence was so fucking wrong. You had just told him no and yet he acted like he was the man of your dreams. “Cutie,” your finger slid down his chest and stopped at his sternum, tapping him there harshly as your voice dropped an octave and your expression shifted to seriousness, “I do men, not boys. Come back when you decide to act like one.” And fuck, that did things to Adam, things he would never be able to admit to, not fully at least. Because you were acting like hot shit and for the first time he wasn't annoyed by it. Because you were hot shit, fuck probably the hottest shit he had ever laid eyes onto. “Now move your pretty ass out of my dressing room, babes,” you gave the first man one last sweet smile, your finger traced along his jaw and he leaned into every bit of touch he got from you. His eyes were clouded and for the first time in very fucking long it wasn't just lust that fogged up his mind, but interest and maybe even love.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Rose's Day of Asks

Gorgeous gif central. Past and present. Favourite cuties to gif?

Have a great Day💜

My favorite Rose, hello 🌹 What a beautiful day this Rose's Day of Asks is 😊

I love your ask for me, that had me slightly on the edge of madness because how am I supposed to decide on this? But there is no limit to how many cuties I can choose *insert evil laughter*.

Based on the number of sets I have created for each show, KinnPorsche should be in first place, but I wouldn't consider them "cuties". And as much as I loved giffing this show, they are not in my list of favorites anymore. There are cuties I made just one or two sets for, which are way higher in my list of favorites, like Sing My Crush - Baram x Hantae. I just loved catching their cute moments in my gifs.

Rose's Day of Asks: Past and Present. Favorite Cuties to gif.

Past

The shows may be from the past, but are still present in my heart. And to clarify, the past is everything from 2023 and before. I had to draw a line somewhere😅

Kawi x Pisaeng from Be my Favorite

Those two had me in a chokehold. Kawi's story of becoming the best version he could possible be was so good, emotional, inspiring and relatable. And Pisaeng's journey to love himself and be true to his feelings was so beautiful. I loved all of this show. And those two are just so CUTE!!!! I mean look at them:

Guess it is time for a rewatch...

Dongwook x Dohyun from A Breeze of Love

They have the cutes smiles and yes, the story might not be the most original, but it was one of my favorite shows from 2023. I loved their story and their love and just them. Dongwook was finally ready to be true to himself and his feelings for Dohyun and the latter understood what happend in the past, but that there was a chance for both of them in the present and future And they went for it and finally became happy together and them together is the cutes shit out there! And I loved giffing their moments. It felt like being a part of their journey, even though I made just a few gifs. They are in my heart forever!

Ai Di x Chen Yi from Kiseki

Those are the two biggest and deadliest puppies out there. The fact that they needed this fucking long to finally get together and as soon as they become a couple they are this whole cheesy lovebirds is just the ultimate cuteness. I mean Chen Yi allows Ai Di to die first and then won't be able to live without him for one teeny tiny second. And who wouldn't want to pinch Ai Di's cheeks?

Vice Versa

It is not so much the couple I loved to gif, but the show itself. I was totally amazed by the color concept for each episode and was obsessed with finding the perfect scenes. Talay and Puen were cute, but the show itself was kind of a mess and a little bit lost on its way to the final, and I love JimmySea way more in Last Twilight, but for the whole giffing part, this show was so much fun to work with.

Present (2024 and ongoing series)

I have to admit, I am in a little giffing-slumb for a few weeks now. Nothing serious, but I need to find my rhythm again after my long sickness and the overfilled fridays. On fridays I have a short work day and more time for my hobbies, but since today I am working part-time and hopefully I get more time for myself and my hobbies again. But I digress 😅

Starting this with the same pairing we left the past with:

JimmySea aka Mhok x Day from Last Twilight

I was so in love with this series and them until they fucked up the ending (imo). I am still not very fond of the ending. But I am still very fond of them until episode 9/10. I still love Mhok and think he is the biggest and cutest green flag out there. I loved to gif their journey of how they found each other. I cried with them and I laughed with them, and in the end I cried for them...

Myungha x Yeowoon from Love for Love's Sake

Just them! Them! Them! Them! Them! Them! Them! I love them. They were perfect. This show was perfect. And especially Yeowoon's facial expressions were pure perfection. It was a cuteness overload. Myungha still owns my whole heart and he was cute in his own way. This was, without a doubt, my favorite korean bl ever and one of my most beloved couples ever. My love for them is still as strong as it was when this series aired. I am still kind of obsessed.

I mean... look at them!

Qian x Yuan from Unknown

Okay, perhaps these aren't really cuties on the first look, but let's be honest: The first few episodes Yuan is such a cute puppy, orbiting around Qian. And Kurt is such a handsome young man. And don't get me started on Chris' smile - addicting. Yeah, I am kinda obsessed with them and their story. And this story is everything but cute right now, but for me these two are the cutest and I will gif the shit out of them! And I guess from epsiode 8 on, we will all lose our shit when their relationship change into something really... "cute".

Okay, these are a few of my beloved cuties I enjoyed giffing. There are way more and I could make this list go on forever, but I have to go to bed now 😅

This was such a fun ask! Thank you so very much! 🌹 And I hope you have a great day yourself! 🤍

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 12

Sadara woke...well she wasn't exactly entirely sure where she'd slept, to be honest. It was all fuzzy. Somehow or the other the first thing she was doing on waking was sitting in the stairway outside her apartment. She stood, groaning, walked up the stairs and into the apartment with a barely-tamed hangover headache.

Walking into the apartment she saw Jiub, who was seated in front of the TV watching some sort of game show. He looked up at her--and gave a mad grin.

"Don't say it," Sadara groaned, raising one hand. "Don't...don't say it."

"Say what?" Jiub smirked now. "How about instead of it I say something like 'good morning, slut?'"

"Is it that obvious?"

"You walk like you got fucked to oblivion and back," he laughed, "Who'd you leave with, anyway?"

"Jolene. The big guy. I remember last night in bits and pieces, but by the time we--you don't want the details, I know. The fucked like a...like it was his last chance. A couple of times. Cuddler, too." She gave a soft sigh. That had been wonderful, a part she remembered well. Silence, warmth, skin contact...she hadn't had anything like that in ages.

"The big ones always are."

"Thank goodness the hangover's not that bad. Headache's not bad, memory's a bit fuzzy, but..." Sadara raised her left hand and waved it a bit absently.

"Holy fucking shit." Jiub's voice turned deadpan, "Where did you get that ROCK?"

"Rock?"

He gestured to her hand, and Sadara looked - seeing not the moon-and-star, but an intricately carved ebony ring studded with scarlet rubies all over. Boxy, with a spike at the top...a spike whose tip was the biggest ruby she'd ever seen.

"Well, that explains why I haven't been hearing Nerevar..." Sadara's face sunk into her palms, "Jolene kept insisting on spending money on a bunch of things. Wooing me or whatever. But why he'd give me his ring--I must've swapped with him or something..."

"Check your pockets," Jiub said, "Maybe you'll get some hints? Hope to the nine you didn't buy it from a pawn shop on credit."

"Good idea."

She emptied her pockets. There were several receipts - one from the casino, cashing out her winnings, which were (somehow?) in her Venmo account. Another from a restaurant, including two meals and a 'giant' sweetroll. Then there was one from some hotel, and another from some bar she'd never heard of. Then a ticket stub from a theater. Jiub made several comments as each one popped out.

"350 drakes? Nice work...some people have all the luck."

"Dude took you to see Cats, he must've been serious."

"Twenty bucks for a drink? He must've taken you to a tourist trap. Sure you didn't pay for these?"

"I'm sure, I checked." Sadara sighed, "He was a lot of fun, though, wouldn't mind seeing him again. Sweet guy...kinda shy, too, like he hadn't been out in ages."

She pulled one final receipt out. At the top was marked SURAN WEDDING CHAPEL.

"Oh, no..."

At the bottom was pinned a small wrinkly side picture of her and Jolene--him with the bandage on his forehead she still vaguely remembered. Both of them were smiling, and there was a wonderful softness in his eyes, a warmth she could feel even just looking at.

"And we were both wasted," Sadara gave a slight laugh, "I don't even know his name--"

"You don't even know YOUR name, you mean." Jiub gave his own laugh. "You're a married woman now."

"How the hell am I supposed to find him again? I can't just turn up to every party hoping he's there...like I don't have enough problems."

"The Sixth House folks probably won't take kindly to you getting hitched to some random guy but...if we can kill Almalexia, however temporarily...we can handle anyone that decides to make trouble."

"Including Dagoth Ur himself?" she questioned.

"See previous answer." Jiub shrugged. "Give me enough skooma and I could do anything."

"Sooner or later we're both going to have to get sober." Sadara sighed. She had to admit he had a good idea. A ring this expensive, surely someone knew whose it was, or would be the person missing it.

The moment she posted the picture and question, a new thought came.

"Fuck, what if they think I stole it?"

"Just mention the chapel," Jiub said, "Say you got drunk married. That should put anyone with half a brain off."

She shared her own post and added that, and then sat back. "I guess now I wait."

"Guess so." she paused. "How was your night? I never asked."

"Good enough. Came back early, after the ordinators showed up at Greg's. Spent half the night losing to some legendary spammer on Pokemon Showdown, then beat him with some strategy I'd seen a couple times before. Guy was so salty he got himself banned."

Sadara laughed. "You beat him with a troll team, didn't you? ...what was that one you were looking up a while back? The FEAR strategy?"

"Something like that." Jiub smirked. "Nothing better than collapsing some chud's ego with a semi-elaborate plan that makes him think I'm barely trying."

"You'd be dangerous if you had any ambition."

"Ambition is how people get into trouble, and I have enough of that as it is." There was a pause. "Anyway, did you have any plans for lunch?"

-------------------

"You can't wear that in here."

Nibani said it the instant she saw the ring two nights later, when Sadara and Jiub walked through the door of the Waffle House.

"Well I'm sure as hell not leaving it at home, it's not mine, and it looks expensive," Sadara groaned. "I don't want to get into any more trouble if whoever it belongs to turns up wanting it."

"What do you mean, any MORE trouble?"

Jiub walked behind the counter and lit a cigarette. "Our girl here is now a married lady!"

"...and that's trouble? Did you marry a Temple priest?"

"Uh...well..." Sadara shook her head. "No. Not that I know of?"

"What do you MEAN, not that you know of?"

"I was...uh...pretty...well, no, REALLY drunk." Sadara shrugged, and got to work with some remaining dishes in the sink. "I wanted a rowdy night, you know, and I got it, but apparently a roll in the hay isn't ALL I got."

"You kids today--" Nibani sighed.

"We live in a world of shit, I'll take joy where I can find it." Sadara shrugged. "I'll keep the ring in my pocket while I'm here, problem solved."

"Do you remember anything about the fellow?"

"Aside from how big he was?" Sadara thought for a moment, and then realizing it could be taken differently than she intended, added, "Tall, I mean. He was...actually charming, in a sad wet cat kind of way. He seemed like he didn't get out much."

She really did want to see him again. Even if she was a rebound while he was getting over whoever he was bawling about, he'd been pretty nice. A good date, certainly...if a very drunk one.

(The picture had been slid into her wallet. It put a smile on her face when she glanced at it...no one had ever looked at her like that before.)

------------------------------

One week of relative silence passed. Dagoth Ur did not show once in that time, and neither did any of the sleepers they'd all become accustomed to seeing. Not so much as a like on Morrowtwitter. She would've been relieved, if that silence wasn't so worrying.

But there were, thankfully, other concerns.

Business was as slow as they'd ever seen it at the Waffle House.

At the end of a couple hours of nothing, the door opened. In walked a haggard looking Dunmer adventurer toting a big bag.

"Gods above, this has been a long journey. Give me some waffles and a large coffee," he said, "And tell me if you see anyone on the road that looks even vaguely like an ordinator."

"Steal something important?" Jiub asked. "It ain't much better up here. The armigers...they'll fuck you up too."

"Yeah, yeah. I went through the Ghostgate, but I don't think they...had gotten the memo yet. How, I don't know. There's a price on my head everywhere else. Don't know why I took this job."

"What job?" Nibani asked. "I don't want to deal with the armigers or the ordinators, it better only be moon sugar you're trafficking through here."

The dunmer laughed. "Yeah, I WISH it was only moon sugar, then maybe I wouldn't have all this shit on my head."

"What is it? I'm not gonna tell anyone, the Temple wants me dead anyway." Jiub, curious, walked on over to bring the waffles himself and so did Sadara, once she got the coffee.

It was ashes...and bones.

"Just bones?" Sadara asked.

"These aren't just any bones!" The dunmer said, "If they were...well, I'd still be in trouble, but not to this degree."

"Spill then. Whose are they?"

"Saint Nerevar's!"

"Now I KNOW you're fucking with us," Jiub said. He turned back to the grill. "If those were Nerevar's bones..."

"Look, if you don't believe me, that's fine. I just don't want to get caught by the ordinators with 'em."

"You don't wanna get caught by Dagoth UR with them," Sadara piped up. "You think the ordinators will be angry with you? That's nothing to--"

"Who the fuck do you think ASKED for these?"

"WHAT!" Nibani rushed forward, and the dunmer moved back in response. "You think to hand Nerevar's bones over to the SHARMAT?"

"I'm getting paid for it, so yes, I am!" the guy practically shouted, and being taller than Nibani, simply held the bag high up over her head. "He's desperate for them, apparently."

"Man's obsessed with Nerevar, always has been from what I hear," Sadara replied. "You might be helping out Morrowind by handing the bones over."

"How would that be helping Morrowind?" Nibani asked. "Delivering Nerevar into the hands of an enemy--"

"Dagoth Ur's not his enemy...at least, I don't think so. Not the way you're thinking. Uhm. You remember that tattoo I got a while back?"

"...yes...?"

"Vivec paid her to do it as a distraction. And it worked from what I saw. Man spent a long time staring at the fucking thing on Morrowtwitter."

If looks could kill, Sadara would have dropped where she stood.

"You got a tattoo. To tempt the Sharmat. What is WRONG with you?"

"I did it for money, alright? Vivec paid me to do it!" Sadara protested. "We needed a new fridge. We--it paid the rent!"

"Of all the foolish--you've put all of us in danger!" Nibani was positively screaming now. "You've gone and gotten yourself into a mess with this drunk marriage of yours. Suppose he shows up thinking you're still available, hmm? Imagine the damage he could do! Do you think of no one but yourself? The safety of Morrowind--the--the lives you endanger--"

"You've never been broke, have you?" Jiub spoke, but wasn't heard.

"Fuck this," Sadara burst out, "And fuck you."

She turned to the dunmer.

"I'll take the damn bones to Dagoth Ur, save you the trouble. The ordinators want me dead anyway. What else can I lose?"

At least HE would be happy to see her, and if she could produce the bones, so much the better. She could explain away the wedding as an accident. She'd heard Nerevar was prone to drunken brawls...so surely he'd understand.

It was nearly morning.

Sadara took the bones, left her apron, and headed out into the blight storm.

----------------------------

The walk to Dagoth Ur (the building) was a rather lengthy one, and she had to stop to ask ash zombies she'd normally pass by for directions. They seemed excitable when they saw her, and one even embraced her, making its characteristic gurgles and growls in a rather lighter way than she was used to.

"Yes--yes, thank you, that was a lovely hug, I'm glad you didn't forget how." She'd given it (him? she wasn't sure) a hug in return, and gotten some dried bittergreen petals out of its pocket in return. "Thank you."

The poor thing, she'd thought. How long had it been since they'd gotten a hug?

Her feet were aching and she had the distinct feeling it was a bad decision to offer to bring the bones this far.

But I've come this far...I might as well go the rest of the way.

Even in the blight storm she could see - the building was utterly enormous, palatial even, and she had as she had in the presence of other wealthy homes, the distinct feeling that she did not belong there. There were several sleepers outside, and when she explained what she was there for they let her in, giving her (she assumed for some odd reason of their own) a most hearty congratulations.

Sadara was directed to a side room (parlor, she reminded herself), and sat quietly, looking around the room. Sixth House tapestries, small portraits of House Dagoth members, furniture that looked centuries old...this place, she thought, this place was what would easily be called old money.

This wasn't just a house displaying its riches. This was wealth.

It took almost fifteen minutes for the door to finally open again, and Sadara stood up quickly when a Dunmer entered, flanked by two ash ghouls, one of whom announced him as "Dagoth Gilvoth."

He was relatively tall, and dressed in a fashion that reminded her vaguely of pictures of King Helseth. As if every mark of wealth needed to be shown, so those laying eyes did not doubt--

"So," he said coldly, with an icy gaze to match, "You have brought Lord Nerevar's bones."

"Yes, I--" Sadara started, but was cut off.

"I do not recall you being the one we commissioned to do that. Did you steal them?"

"Of course not. The man--was eager to get rid of them. Said the ordinators were after him...and I--well, I was free." The tone set her on edge, and the look didn't help. "I didn't steal shit."

"Mmhhmm. Vulgarity, as expected of one such as yourself. The bones, if you please."

Sadara quietly handed the bag over to one of the ash ghouls, who turned back and whispered something to Dagoth Gilvoth.

"Good. She didn't hold anything back, at least."

"Who the--I didn't TAKE anything, stop making assumptions!" she couldn't help but burst out.

"Really?" Gilvoth's tone slipped; it turned more snobbish. "Then I suppose you made that ring yourself?"

"The ring? Well--no, I woke up wearing it."

"Try harder with your lies, if you want people to believe them."

"I'm telling the truth. I woke up wearing it...a bit over a week ago. I went to Suran with someone, and...I...ah...married him. I still haven't figured out who he is, no one's got any answers for me. I assume you know who it is?"

"Know who it is!" Gilvoth laughed harshly. "You carry a Dagoth family heirloom and ask if I know who it is!"

"Then tell me," she said, trying to hold back the wave of--something. Dread? No. Or maybe yes. She was anxious, that was for certain. "Tell me whose it is. Tell me who I married. Wait--I have a picture. I assume it's one of you."

She took out the little picture from her wallet, and held it up for inspection.

Gilvoth's face shifted with a myriad of things, things Sadara couldn't quite pin down.

"That is the head of our Great House, Voryn Dagoth. Dagoth Ur."

Sadara paled. "I--I had no idea. If I had known--he was so different, I would never have thought..."

"You would never have married him had you known?"

"I didn't--well before, but--I didn't know there was more to him than the--the cult stuff."

Sadara sat back down. Her face sunk into her hands.

Of course. Of course. It was all so clear now. The sad song. The misery. The way he'd looked at her. The desperate cuddling.

Of COURSE the one time she'd ever had someone look at her like she'd hung the moon was because he thought of her as someone else!

"Cult stuff. We are trying to save Morrowind's very soul, and you call it cult stuff. I can see why--" A shift in tone again, and when she looked up, Gilvoth had looked away before speaking his next sentence. "--in any case, you have done all that is required of you. You may leave."

"I thought--given--won't there have to be some kind of talk about...well..." she raised her left hand to show the ring.

"You will return the ring, and you will leave. There will be no need for a talk of any kind, and certainly not with one like you. Now that we have Nerevar's bones, the mer himself may be revived."

That stony gaze turned back at her.

"Surely you understand it has always been Lord Nerevar that he wants? That that is the only reason he ever turned even a glance in your direction? You who have to show skin to keep his attention for any length of time? You, who carefully avoid accepting any overtures from our sleepers? You, who bring only scandal to House Dagoth?"

Sadara could not find words. She had been looked down on for being broke before, or being practical, but never to this degree. She expected to feel upset, maybe a stab of pain as she had before. But all she felt right now was anger.

"You don't even have the decency to pretend you care for him."

"I could have." The answer surprised them both. If she'd known there was more to Dagoth Ur than this cult he was running, she thought she'd have been a little more open to his...

"Hand over the ring and leave, before I have you removed," Gilvoth demanded.

She stood, pulled off the ring, and handed it to the other ash ghoul. Then backed away, and scuttled around to the door while facing Gilvoth.

"What in the blue blazes are you doing?" he questioned.

"You will remember my face," Sadara said, matching the chill of Gilvoth's tone, clenching her fist as she spoke. "Not my back. My face."

The words were not quite hers, and all but busted out of her. They seemed to surprise Gilvoth, but she didn't stay to hear anything he said.

------------------------------

u ok?

not really. Is the manager still pissed?

Like you wouldn't believe. idk what to tell you but I think you might've fucked yourself out of the job.

great. just great. I won't be home today anyway.

trip go that well?

I didn't get paid if that's what you were wondering. turns out it was dagoth ur I married. fml.

Spending the day?

no, they don't want me there. getting a room somewhere. i'll be by in the next few days. or not. I don't know. I need to fight something.

-------------------------------

I know you don't want to hear from me, but I thought I'd leave you a message anyway, before you start your new life with Nerevar at your side.

If I had known there was more to you than the religion you started, I'd have been more open to you to begin with. In Suran I saw a side of you I wanted to see more of. You were...I liked you. I liked the way you made me feel. I liked especially the smile I saw on your face when I looked at you.

I had a great time. I just wish it was me you wanted to be doing it with.

-----------------------

New post from LordNerevar -

Reunited and it feels so good ♥

[dichromaticdyke]

🗣 - Silly question, especially since this is your blog and you can say/do whatever, but is there anything you've always wanted to talk about/say/ramble on about Skwisgaar that you feel like you've never had the chance or right opportunity to talk about?

*deep sigh* what a can of worms.

skwisgaar with the yard wolves. wolves are the ones who led him to his guitar, who chased him into the hole where he would find his destiny. they were there when he re-learned his destiny, standing with him as he become the first member of the band to learn of his divine nature. the wolves are there with him when no one else is. he's not a lone wolf, as much as he wants to believe he is. he has to run with a pack, just as the swedish wolves and the yard wolves do.

birds of prey. his ancient animal form being a white owl or falcon, the flash of the hawk or falcon or whatever (i'm not a birder idk what these are someone help me) in his "Ams a God" song along with the wolves. his freedom, his ability to tear anyone else apart, but his ultimate grace winning out.

the fact that he has the most drastic wardrobe shift from anyone else. the white-on-white with a swedish belt buckle contrasted to the rest of dethklok's dark colors, signalling him as an outsider, a foreigner, someone on the fringes of the band. he doesn't even speak in any of these flashbacks until he's arguing why he should be the only guitarist of dethklok. and not only does he change his tune on that, but realizing that he does need another guitarist to elevate himself is what finally gives him a connection to the rest of the band, shedding his white-on-white and swedish belt bucklet to darker clothes and a skull, more closely matching the aesthetics of everyone else.

his passion for playing guitar overriding anything else. his drive for perfection, even at the risk of his own body. i can't remember the exact moment i decided skwisgaar was mine, but if i had to guess, it would be the skydiving moment for that exact reason. he's dedicated to his craft, no matter what, in a way that no one else in the band can match.

he's goofy more than anything, and he longs for approval. he struggles both with his language barrier and his undiagnosed autism, but he desperately wants everyone else's approval, though he'd never admit it. the way he gets defensive and angry when no one likes his idea for murderface's gift always stands out to me. his debilitating insecurity goes beyond just guitar. it took years, but he does want to be included in the band, he does want to be friends and family with these idiots, but he's scared of abandonment and he has walls up by default.

he was in a million bands. they all either broke up, kicked him out, or he left. dethklok is the only one that worked out, and i think part of him always worried that they wouldn't. he got to a point with them that he felt like he didn't have to worry about that anymore, but then nate and pickles had to go and fuck that all up. he says, "i was gettings pretty used to dis gigs" as a wall, to act like he doesn't care, to try to convince himself not to care. but look at him in the press conference:

and look at him compared to the rest of the band:

he is visibly more upset than any of them. he cares about dethklok--the band, the music, his friends, his family--more than anything in the goddamn world. and it makes me fucking angry when people paint him as just the pretty, slutty, mean blond of the group, because he arguably has the biggest goddamn heart, he just hides it because of his fear of losing everything and his toxic masculinity. but fuck he loves them all so goddamn much.

[gabessquishytum]

you know what. it's my birthday and that means i get to be extra extra self-indulgent. so! i'm going back to chastity belt+urethral plug hob because... yeah.

even after hob is perfectly happy and settled into being a kept pet he loves when dream keeps his peehole plugged, and dream loves anything that keeps his beloved pet happy and horny. and being plugged makes him so horny -- dream quickly learns to either plug hob's cunt as well or to make sure he's on a good thick pillow, or hob will drip so much he'll leave puddles on the floor.

and then eventually dream realizes he's kept hob plugged every day for more than a week and even the biggest plug in the set he ordered doesn't fit as snug in hob's peehole as it should. it was never his intention to change his darling's body! so he decides to give hob a week or two without being plugged to give his body a chance to tighten back up.

not that he makes it a week. he doesn't make it three days, because on the third day hob crawls into his lap before they leave dream's quarters for the day and quickly starts apologizing and begging. did he do something wrong? is he being punished? he didn't mean to, he swears, what does he need to do to earn his plug back? dream's quick to explain that hob didn't do anything wrong, he only wanted to give hob a chance to recover, and hob tearfully explains that he doesn't want to recover. he wants dream to change him. and he admits that he'd maybe been hoping dream wanted to change him to.

and the thing is, dream does. part of how guilty he's felt about this is that he does want it, he wants to shape hob into his perfect little pet. and he doesn't begrudge hob being... a little bit of a slut before. but he'd like very much to find a virginity of hob's he can take. so when hob admits that he was really really hoping dream would keep stretching him until he could take a cock in that little hole? dream's just glad he didn't have to be the one to bring it up.

so dream orders a new set of plugs, and hob gets gradually sized up and gets more and more desperate every time they have to switch to a new plug. dream's actually the one who has to be sensible about it, because as soon as dream can fit two fingers into his urethra, hob starts begging for dream to just fuck him already.

but dream wants to take good care of his beloved. and when he finally works his cock into hob's new hole, hob doesn't feel a moment of pain. he comes for the first time as soon as dream's all the way inside him, and he doesn't stop coming as dream fucks him. he's a very spoiled little pet. but he's all dream's, and dream wouldn't have him any other way.

-🐈‍⬛

First of all. Most beloved and special 🐈‍⬛ anon. Happy birthday!!!!!! I hope you have such a lovely day, I (and everyone who reads this blog) love you a lot!!!!!!!!

Second of all. I am very very unhinged about Hob wanting Dream to bodymod him, okay. Hob being mindlessly horny because Dream is giving him a brand new hole that no one else will ever get to touch? Fucking hell yeah, I'm weirdly emotional about it.

Hob is a very horny little painslut at the best of times. When Dream initially starts playing with his urethra, Hob just knows that this is His Thing. This is the thing that he likes more than a normal amount. Every single time Dream puts a sound in him he gets this wonderful surge of pleasure and before long, he can cum just from having his peehole stimulated. He has wonderful daydreams about how maybe one day, Dream will be able to put his whole cock inside that tiny little hole! Hob lies in bed at night and squirms, rubbing his thighs together and nearly moaning out loud as he imagines it.

It's the pain, and the discomfort that gets him off. But there's also the aftercare. Dream is very conscientious about making sure that his pet remains healthy, so he keeps Hob’s peehole clean and tidy to ward of nasty infections. Hob dearly loves holding his folds open while Dream lovingly swabs him. He just feels like the most special person in the whole world.

So when Dream finally promises that he'll stretch the little hole into something properly fuckable, Hob is in ecstasy. He promises that he'll be extra specially good. Dream just shakes his head fondly and ruffles Hob’s hair. He knows that his pet will be in trouble soon enough, but he's so whipped he'd let Hob get away with anything at this point.

Sure enough later that day, he catches Hob with his hand stuck in the chastity belt, trying to stuff one finger into his (still tiny) peehole, right alongside the sounding rod. Looks like Dream’s going to have to invest in an even more elaborate belt, since his pet can't keep his hands to himself. Or maybe he'll just go ahead and order some handcuffs to be made specially... <333

It's all going to be worth it when he gets to put his cock into the hole that no one else has ever even touched. And it'll be an absolute dream come (or cum 😉) true for Hob.

[blackjackkent]

OK. Some of the slightly less consequential Act 2 ending conversations now. Rakha has a lot fewer people in the Moonrise lobby than Hector did since pretty much all the tieflings are dead and Halsin has not shown up. (I'm assuming Halsin is missing for the same reason that he doesn't get his own tent in camp anymore, because the game didn't account for the possibility of him and Minthara both being around at once.)

The biggest remaining convo is probably Aylin and Isobel, but the one most immediately drawing Rakha's attention is Withers, who is being unusually vocal, plus she's surprised he's even here.

Rakha still doesn't really like Withers - he's mysterious, which pisses her off, and also takes no damage when she gets violent with him, which pisses the beast off. He did win back a few points with her by bringing her back from the dead after the Lathandrian monastery exploded, though.

So she gives him a sort of noncommittal grunt and waits to see what he has to say.

"Thy hunger denied. Selune's faithful yet shines. The balance shifts."

Rakha's head snaps up and suddenly she is playing much closer attention. Thy hunger.

Withers has shown little or no interest in the internal struggles that have plagued Rakha in the time they've traveled together. He keeps to himself; she never sees him unless they're camping, but he is always just... there, taking up space in a quiet corner, unable to be dislodged but not interacting with anyone unless he is spoken to first.

He has never said anything to her about her murderous tendencies. He only acknowledged Alfira once, in refusing to bring her back, and he seemed utterly unphased by the terrible night just recently where she practically turned into a howling animal. He has seemed utterly disconnected from all of it - until now.

"Thou hast seen with thine own eyes, and felt in thine Urges - the Dead Three unite. There are depths to this alliance yet unplumbed. Consider, mortal - do illithids possess souls?"

Rakha blinks, then scowls.

She wants to know what he meant by that first part. Her Urges connect in some way to the Dead Three, these gods that stand behind the Absolutist cult. It is not simply her nature, but something directly connected to her presence at Moonrise in the memories she's lost.

But of course he does not explain or elaborate, but instead mocks her with a question she cannot answer.

"Forget that," she says curtly. "What are you doing here, Withers?"

"Where matters of balance are concerned, I am eternally called," he says placidly, unbothered as always by her irritation. "I shall ask yet again. Do illithids possess souls?"

She breathes out sharply through her nose, briefly debating the viability of delivering her dagger straight between his eyes. It wouldn't have any impact on him, but it might make her feel minutely better.

But she sets her jaw and resists the urge yet again. He is being very insistent about this, and she must admit to a flash of curiosity through her exhaustion. "I don't know," she says after a long pause. "Don't all living things?" Such is her extremely limited knowledge, at least. Metaphysical questions haven't been a common camp topic of conversation.

"No," Withers says flatly. "Nor canst thou count mind flayers among them. Yet the Three amass an illithid army, void of apostolic souls that could imbue them with power." His eyes narrow to slits, focusing on Rakha with more attention than she has yet seen from him. "A flock without souls. Yet to what end, O tempted one? This is the question thou must come to answer. Until that time - be availed of my services."

(A/N: I'm wracking my brains and I can't remember if Hector was ever actually provided an answer to this question. :O Was this a plot thread that got dropped or did I miss something? I don't think we ever really learned a ton about the Three's motivations for fucking the world up. Maybe this is something we learn more about in Durge land.)

Rakha stares at him, baffled. It takes her a moment to parse through what he's saying. Gods, then, are powered by the souls of those who follow them. These gods, however, are converting people to mind flayers - and making them soulless.

Why?

And why do *I* need to answer? There was something unsettlingly specific in the way he said that.

"You know of these Urges," she says hoarsely. "What can you tell me?"

Withers looks back at her, steady and unreadable. "Nothing thou dost not already know."

A lie, she's almost certain of it, and her scowl deepens. She wishes she could take him by the throat and squeeze and shake until the answers he hoards fall out of him... but it would get her nowhere and only anger the beast in her head.

"You seem to know a lot about the Dead Three," she says instead, between her teeth.

"Yes," he answers. "Bane, Lord of Darkness. Bhaal, Lord of Murder. Myrkul, Lord of Bones. Once judged, ascended, then vanquished - as one, and as three."

Again his eyes narrow. Again that sudden, uncharacteristic intensity as he speaks words that make no sense at all. "The alliance is reforged, mortal. The planes thus quake, and the gods shudder."

[remyfire]

34, 35 and 12 caught my eye but I cannot decide who I want them for so ig whatever pairing (or poly group ) is giving u the biggest brain rot rn but bonus if it includes radar or trapper bc i am intrigued by how u write radar and i am slightly feral about the feelings trapper induces in me

Hi anon, you unlocked something in me when I read this ask, so I went for total broke and now there is radartraphawk. I really hope that's okay!! As a bonus, I have included Every Kiss. Also it's 3k and a bit angsty. I hope that's also okay. Okay no more stalling, here you go. Kiss Roulette (12) A kiss along the collar bone, (34) a kiss after a bite, (35) a kiss against a wall [AO3 crosspost]

It's certainly not the first time they've tussled and it absolutely won't be the last, but there is something particularly wild in Hawk today, and John has a feeling that it's got something to do with the wide-eyed company clerk perched anxiously on the edge of Hawkeye's cot. "Will you fuckin'—" When John's leg clips the stove and sends the empty coffee pot clanging across the floor, he grits his teeth and tightens his grip on Hawk's arms. "Will you settle the fuck down?"

"How 'bout you let me go first?" Hawkeye spits back. He'd started by straining to get free of John's hold but now he's gotten damn squirrelly, trying to turn the tide instead.

"How 'bout you stop being a little shit?"

They twist and squabble. Hawk's hip slams against the poker table. John almost goes tumbling and Radar throws his hands out just in time to push him back to his feet. It's like being in college again, surrounded by nothing but football players who didn't wanna admit they were sucking each other off in the locker room when all the lights went down and everybody else went home. He gets it. He played that game too for a hell of a lot longer than he should've. But why Hawkeye fucking Pierce is so pissed at him about what John just offered, he has no idea, because this guy's gotta be responsible for at least a million sexuality crises alone. He can barely keep his hand out of pants—any pants, his own or John's or a nurse's, probably everybody who's ever been on R&R in Seoul for the past year. Where the hell does he get off causing such a fuss?

"C-Captain." Radar's small voice comes from behind him. "I should probably just—"

John finally, finally slams Hawkeye against the locked door. He gets one moment of peace, both of them panting and glaring at each other with sweat gleaming on their foreheads, before Hawk starts up again.

"Would you sirs stop?!" Radar's louder now, piercing.

It's Boston instinct, really, that has John trying to get his forearm against Hawk's throat, and not even hard enough to do damage to his windpipe, but the moment Hawk's eyes bulge in shock, John pulls back just enough so there's no contact with his neck. "Sorry," he murmurs, chest burning with guilt. His forearm stings like he hit him with it. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Hawk—"

Hawkeye then twists his neck and bites it.

"Fuck!" And then they're back at it again.

Metal strikes metal behind John louder than a gong and they freeze. When John looks over his shoulder, Radar's standing by the stove with the coffee pot in his hand. He wouldn't be surprised if it had a dent in it now, if he slammed them together that hard. It's rare to see Radar really properly steamed up, but there it is written all over his face from his jaw to his eyes to his brow.

"You're not listening to me," Radar mutters. "This whole thing happened 'cause of me and you're not even gonna listen when I say something?"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, all right?" John doesn't mean to let his frustration bleed into the words, turn them into daggers, but there's no pulling them back either. "This ain't your fault, it's Hawkeye over here who—"

"You don't get to tell me what I can or can't do," Hawk snaps. "I don't care how many times your dick's been in my goddamn ass, you do not get to throw me around like a puppet when I wanna walk out that door, do you hear me?"

"Hawk, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm not shoving you two together like dolls." John lets Hawkeye's shoulder go, immediately feels him starting to twist, but the second John's palm cups his cheek, Hawk freezes, jaw still tight but eyes staying on his. "I'm trying to figure out why the hell you're so spooked about saying you want something."

When Hawk finally flicks his gaze away, John lets him, just thumbs over his stubble and tries to figure out what the fuck is going on in his head. In a way, yeah, okay, he can understand something about it—the two of them weren't teasing Henry about robbing the cradle just to mess with him—but can't Hawk see that this is different? That Radar's different?

John drops his voice and leans in a little closer. He's not under the impression that Radar, of all people, won't be able to hear him, but he needs Hawk to see this, to know John's still trying to protect him no matter how much he wants to dump him in a snowbank right now. "Wasn't even a month ago you were telling me all about what he reminds you of." It's like a switch gets flipped. Hawkeye stops breathing. The air begins to heat as though a storm is ready to blow through. They both know what he means. That quiet night in the Swamp where Hawk had talked about the ways he fumbled through figuring out his own bent, the alleys and the bars and the backs of cars, how he'd taken his life in his hands over and over again just to have a taste of why looking at a man lit him on fire the way that it did. How sometimes he swears that Radar's toeing that exact same line—the curiosity that could drive him into danger made even worse by virtue of where the hell they are. That sometimes Hawkeye wishes he could just... That if he had a chance to...

John was thorough. He had to be. The same care that he took slipping through the back streets of Boston to loop his way around cops on their beats. He'd watched Hawk. He'd watched Radar. He'd seen the way they'd watch each other when they weren't being noticed themselves. The protectiveness in Hawkeye's body when he was around Radar, how he'd throw out joke after joke just to get him to smile. And within no time, John had a guarantee of what he already suspected. Yeah, sure, Hawk really had meant it when he'd finally admitted that he just wished he could make it a little easier, safer, and walk Radar through everything he was craving to know. But that wasn't the reason why Hawkeye would stare a second too long at Radar's ass when he'd strain to grab something from the back of the filing cabinet.

John's not an idiot. He's sure as hell able to overlook his own faults and fears and that's never gonna change, but he knows Hawk better than he knows his own name. And if Hawkeye wants something, then John wants him to have it, pure and simple.

"I got him here for you," John whispers. That was a whole other fucking story—overlapping his showers with Radar's over and over again until he finally caught Radar staring at his cock with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks, until John could lean over the partition and look him right in the eye and cut off the panicked stammering before it ever got started. "I got the scene set." A three-way poker game, the tent flaps dropped, the door latched, the shade pulled down, Frank cuddled up in Hot Lips's tent for the night. "I warmed him up too." Made damn sure Hawkeye was watching while John slid his fingers through Radar's hair and coaxed him in until their lips met. Made sure too that as Radar trembled with nerves, John had rubbed up and down his back until the fear fluttered away like it was never there.

And then Hawkeye had exploded. Because of course he did.

Now as Hawkeye meets John's gaze, he's slipped past anger—that rare, white-hot rage tinged with, of all things, the accusation that Trapper was taking advantage of Radar. The thing Hawk had never wondered about with any of the nurses John's bedded. Not even once.

Something's always been different about Radar.

"You know what could happen," Hawk mutters under his breath. "You know exactly what you're setting him up for."

"You'd rather it be with some stranger in the back of a Tokyo movie theater? Hawk, be fucking serious." John finally steps back, lets Hawkeye be completely free, but as he suspected, he makes no move to unlatch the door. "There's no advantage-taking goin' on here and we both know it. You wouldn't be caught dead looking at him if he weren't a grown man in your eyes, and that means he can tell you what he wants and how he wants it and you don't get to tell him he's wrong."

"Captain McIntyre?"

John stares Hawk down another moment more before he turns his attention to the cute little mouse who's found his way into their den. He's small but he's still got a few shards of broken glass in that sharp gaze of his. And he should. John's over here rattling on about how he's an adult, but did he stop what he was doing last time when Radar was demanding to be heard? With a sigh of frustration through his nose, John faces him fully. "Sorry. Don't mean to be keeping you on the outside." He'd promised himself he wouldn't. He's not so nervous of Radar's age as Hawk seems to be, but that doesn't mean he can just up and forget about how young and inexperienced he is in all this shit, not just the sex. "It wasn't supposed to go like this—"

"Captain McIntyre," Radar interrupts.

"Trapper." John almost doesn't realize that came out of him, not Hawkeye. Hawk's the one who will introduce him as Trapper, not...

"Trapper," Radar amends quietly. He comes closer, already holding out a hand with all the confidence he shows his personal petting zoo. "Sir, your arm."

A rush of lightning darts through John's veins when Radar takes his hand and rotates it to show him his forearm. Not the first time somebody's bitten down on it, but usually it's himself trying to keep quiet when Hawkeye's eating him out like he's his last meal. The teethmarks stand out quite vividly but he didn't break the skin. It'll just bruise over like it always does. "Oh, don't worry about it, Radar, s'nothing."

"It's not nothing." Radar scowls. "You got this 'cause of me, y'know."

"I got it 'cause I'm a jackass who wasn't gonna let Hawkeye storm his way into the O-Club when we..." John blinks as Radar lifts his arm. When Radar leaves a soft, gentle kiss right on the bite, John's stomach flip-flops. Fuck. He's just so...good. Every bit of him. He's not shy about doing that because he doesn't know he should be. He's standing here holding John's hand like they've been going steady for weeks rather than him stealing that first kiss tonight as a goad to his lover.

It's kind of amazing how smooth Radar's expression has gone by the time John glances back up at his face. He could be feeling nothing at all. "It's not your fault, Trapper. Really. I can tell you weren't fibbing just to play a joke or nothing, I promise." Even his words are perfectly steady. "H-He just doesn't want..."

Or not. John flicks his gaze to Hawk, but he's staring right at Radar with a furrowed brow.

"I mean, it's not a surprise or..."

John itches, doesn't think, just lets his other hand find Radar's back so he can rub it for him. It takes everything inside him to keep from pulling Radar into his arms and keeping him there until he smiles again.

Radar straightens up—like a soldier, John thinks with a boom of fury like a firework, there and gone in a flash—and clears his throat, letting go of John's hand. "Anyhow, it's not some big deal. So if it's okay with you sirs, I'm gonna, I-I'm just gonna go back and finish up some work."

The second Radar takes a step forward, Hawkeye stiffens, his arms shooting out to cover the full width of the door. Honestly, he looks shocked that he did it in the first place. But Radar peeks up at him, lips parted, and John does what he does best. He waits.

This isn't about John, except that it is, of course, because at least while they're here, Hawkeye belongs to him insomuch that John belongs to Hawkeye and neither one of them is ever going to admit it out loud. It's about John because his world revolves around Hawk's happy, his lust, his satisfaction, his rest, his everything, until one day when it won't anymore, which is a day John still refuses to let his mind focus on—it blurs over like he's nearsighted, and hell, maybe he is. It's about John because when he thinks about seeing Hawkeye and Radar tangle up naked in these scratchy green blankets, it's probably the most beautiful thing he could conceive of witnessing in the middle of their personal corner of Hell. So that's why he waits. Watches. Wonders if Hawk's finally going to let those muscles loosen until they're butter-smooth and melting from the heat.

When Hawkeye takes a long, deep breath, it's like a curtain getting pulled up to start a show he's been buzzing over for months. "You want this, Radar?"

Radar lifts his chin so he's looking Hawk right in the eye, a kind of steadiness that makes a thrum of heat flare up in John's gut. It's incredible. After all that effort to put on a brave face in the midst of rejection, all John's wanting to comfort him if he had to cry it out, he's far more confident in this decision than he'd given him credit for. "Yeah, Hawkeye," he murmurs.

"Tell me," Hawk says firmly, words like granite, like steel. "Tell me what you want."

Radar opens his mouth, closes it, then opens again. "I wanna learn what makes you feel good."

Hawk closes his eyes and bites his lips into a thin line.

"Wanna..." Radar approaches him until he stands directly in front of Hawk, just a few inches between them. John can't stop himself from visually tracing the lines of his neck, his shoulders, all so beautifully untouched by anyone. Then he can't stop himself from grazing his fingers slowly, slowly along Radar's trapezius, trying to feel him somehow through the jacket and shirts both. Radar shivers visibly, which makes John smirk, makes his mouth water, all the fascination that made him great at science before he was ever in medical school. "Wanna... I wanna touch you all over." He turns his head but doesn't fully peek over his shoulder before he snaps his gaze back on Hawk. "Both of you."

Both.

John can't actually say he's surprised, not really, not after the shower situation, but there's a jolt straight to his cock all the same. Hawk is so lithe. Beautiful. He's a goddamn perfect first try at fucking around with a man. John? He can sometimes sink into the background when he's near Hawkeye. He thinks he might be able to take advantage of that right now, but when John rests one hand on Radar's hip, he grins at the gasp he gets before he murmurs near his ear. "How 'bout we start you off with Hawk, see how you like it."

"Yeah," Radar whispers, then lets out a shivery groan.

"You want I should show you how to make him come?" John's words are husky, lush.

That makes Hawkeye and Radar whimper in tandem, a gorgeous little duet that John suddenly wants to hear every second he can. Radar tips his head back and stares up at him, and the longer he looks, the more red his cheeks turn. Another spark on the smoldering fire inside John. "I'll bet you're real good at it, aren't you, sir?" And there's a roughness to his tone just the same.

John's lips quirk as he takes one step closer, bringing his body flush against Radar's back, urging him to press against Hawk, to trap him there at the door. "Like you ain't ever heard him moaning for me with those ears'a yours."

"I wasn't snooping," Radar blurts exactly like a snooper would.

"Ah-huh." Hawkeye grins—his first since this whole damn thing started. As Hawk slides his hands into the valley of his soft waist, a sound as delicate as a snowflake comes out of Radar and draws a hum from Hawk in turn, one of those that John's used to hearing right against his ear when he's damn satisfied with what he just reduced John to. "Radar..." The moment Radar looks up at him, Hawk seems to hesitate, and John watches the goosebumps skitter down his throat. "...how d'you wanna kick us off, huh?"

Radar only waits another second before he comes up ever so slightly on his toes to brush his lips over Hawkeye's collarbone through his shirt. He steadies himself with a hand on Hawkeye's ribs, right where John knows he won't miss the way he's beginning to breathe too hard from this barest possible graze. "Can I see you, Hawkeye?" Radar asks with such sincerity and naked want that John instinctively reaches to give him exactly what he needs, gets a fist of Hawk's hem before he freezes.

John glances up. Waits for Hawkeye to look at him with that burning, dripping lust, hot enough to melt through the floor like lava. And then John touches Radar's other wrist and coaxes him to grab Hawkeye's shirt instead. "Go on. He wants it."

"You want it, Hawk?" Radar asks as though to be absolutely sure, and though John's certain that it's a legitimate question, somehow it's practically filth when it comes from him.

"Fuck..." Hawkeye nods. "Yeah, yeah, Radar, I do. I want you bad."

Radar shivers with a little laugh as he pushes Hawk's shirt up little by little, reaching high to pull it over his head. "Then I'll treat you real good."

The rush of arousal hardens John to the breaking point, makes him so hungry that he can't stop himself from pressing his cock into Radar's back as he leans in to kiss Hawkeye ruthlessly. Hawk whines against John's mouth and scrapes his nails across his scalp, shaking, shivering, and John takes one quick glance to make sure Radar's okay—he's kissing over Hawkeye's chest like he's never wanted to do something so bad in his whole life—before he finally gives in and lets every ounce of his desire bruise Hawk's lips.

[asskickedbygirl]

Radio Bam - F!Reader Fic

Episode Four

ep one - ep two - ep three

Desc: You’re a regular on radio bam!!!! And you’re a whore !!!

A/n: thank you anons for inspiration <3 also gonna keep eps a little shorter so i have more to write for! feel free to send more ideas! 

warnings: strong language, explicit mentions of sex

⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

Y/n: It’s Radio fucking Bam everyone, Dico’s done enough intros for now I’m sick of him calling me a whore so I’m doing it tonight! Today we got minging ass Brandon DiCamillo, father of the year Brandon Novak, the dickhead that airs out everyone’s business Ryan Gee and the other dickhead Baaaaaaam Margera!!! Oh and me hot pants.

Dico: You’re calling yourself hot pants now?

Y/n: I’m embracing it, it’s kinda endearing. 

Dico: I wouldn't say that.

Novak: Y/n can’t call me a whore anymore after last night.

Bam: Ah man I’m still fucking thinking about that.

Y/n: We’re airing this out already huh?

Dico: Shocked Gee hasn’t posted about it on his website yet.

Bam: He’s typing it up right now.

Gee: I didn’t get a photo of it.

Y/n: Thank god.

Bam: Y/n you genuinely deserve the whore title for that I’m not kidding.

Dico: It’s up there with Novak’s worst.

Y/n: No it is not you guys are so fucking dramatic.

Gee: Dude it was pretty hardcore whoring.

Y/n: Let a girl live. 

Y/n: As if Novak’s never fucked in there either. 

Y/n: As if Novak’s never fucked in there either. 

Novak: Well I don’t bring home random haggard ass dudes from the bar.

Y/n: I was taking a page from your fucking book! Last week you assholes were yelling at me for hooking up with people I know so I brought home a random for once and now you’re all acting like I committed a crime.

Dico: Fucking on a couch is a crime.

Bam: This is not helping your ‘I don’t have an exhibitionist kink’ case.

Y/n: Wow big words from you Bam.

Bam: Frantz taught me that shit. 

Y/n: Well it’s not my fault you fuckers destroyed my god damn room so I have to sleep on the couch now. 

Gee: Yeah sleep on the couch not fuck on it.

Y/n: Where the fucks Jess he needs to defend my honour. 

Dico: Is he your next victim?

Y/n: Haha, very funny. No but seriously why were you guys barging in in the first place?!

Bam: BARGING INTO MY OWN LIVING ROOM??!!

Y/n: IT WAS LIKE FOUR FUCKING AM I THOUGHT YOU WERE ALL ASLEEP!

Novak: I never sleep babe.

Y/n: Yeah cause’ you were fucking someone too. 

Novak: On my own bed cause’ I’m not an animal.

Y/n: Dude you’ve fucked in dirty ass bathrooms you are one to talk.

Dico: That couch is fucking minging Y/n you’re gonna give everyone STDs. 

Bam: Can we tell the listeners what actually happened now?

Dico: Yeah Y/n I’d love to know what was going through your head.

Y/n: Well there’s nothing to tell, you guys just walked in on me fucking.

Dico: It was worse than that.

Bam: No let me tell it. So we were hanging out upstairs at my house and then we were like wait where the fuck is Y/n and that guy she brought home from the bar cause’ she wasn’t in her room. Anyways, it’s pretty late at this stage but we ran out of beers so we went downstairs and what do we fucking hear?!

Novak: *claps hands*

Dico: *dramatic moaning*

Y/n: Oh god shut up.

Bam: Y/n is full on humping this lanky green bean looking dude on the couch we hang out on every fucking day!

Novak: A sight for sore eyes baby. 

Y/n: I’m so fucking done with these double standards. I can’t even count on two hands the amount of times we’ve all seen Novak fucking everywhere but when I do it I’m the biggest whore?!

Bam: Are you actually pissed right now?

Y/n: You know what? Yeah! I am fucking pissed!

Dico: Well before Bam and Y/n slit each others throats Jessie Margera is here!

Jess: Did I come at the wrong time?

Y/n: Jess I’m dead fucking serious if one more person calls me a whore tonight I’m getting violent.

Novak: You gotta admit it babe, it was pretty whory.

Y/n: Alright yeah but being compared to you is where I draw the line.

Dico: Don’t get your panties in a twist.

Novak: I’ll untangle em for you aaayyooo.

Y/n: Fuck you guys.

Bam: We’ll stop slut shaming you for a minute before you fucking implode.

Y/n: Thank you.

Dico: We should read some hate mail.

Bam: Oh we’re absolutely reading hate mail I fucking love hate mail.

Y/n: I already know what this shits gonna be.

Bam: Oh my god this ones already off to a great start.

Y/n: Christ.

Bam: Bam, stop putting that little fucking slut on air. Her whorish endeavours are vomit-inducing I don’t wanna hear anymore stories about field fucking or I will cut off my ears and send them to you. 

Jess: Jesus.

Bam: It gets worse. Why the fuck do you hang out with the little brat, you’re hot shit and she’s fucking everything that walks except you and Novak. At least she’s not thick enough to catch an STD from his haggard ass but I’m sure she has a whole host of them anyways.

Novak: Hey man.

Y/n: This funny to you Bam?

Bam: Hysterical.

Y/n: I thought we were done slut shaming me for today.

Dico: It’s fine you can have your knight in shining armour Dunn to shield you from it.

Y/n: Oh god shut up asshole.

Gee: Ryan?

Bam: Oh yeah isn’t he picking you up after this?

Y/n: Don’t turn this into something, we’re just gonna see a movie.

Novak: You gonna fuck in the theatre again?

Y/n: I’ll break your legs Novak.

Dico: Awooooah she’s going back to her roots. 

Bam: Have you reached your quota for humping dudes and now have to go back to the ones you’ve already nailed?

Y/n: You guys are such pricks, I am single everyone! 

Novak: Available but still won’t bang me. 

Y/n: Yup.

Bam: Well anyways I think we should dedicate this next song to Y/n’s new and old boyfriend Mr Ryan Dunn who still won’t come on this fucking radio show.

Y/n: For good reason and he’s not my boyfriend. 

Bam: This is Bloodhound Gang, Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo or just FUCK which is what you guys will be doing later on Sirius 28 Faction!

Dico: They’re gonna fuck on air?

End.

@pontiusbikini @dxckfarmdunn @steve-osahottie @gnarkillknoxville @alex-abn0rmal @stratossphere @izzaaaaaa @jackassvivalabam03 @bambammargera @spoookyberry @lovexjoe @jackussy420

[keepthedelta]

https://www.tumblr.com/keepthedelta/749632894793826305/wait-does-that-mean-mercedes-max-wouldve

wait i need u to elaborate on that last bit bc i am So Intrigued

i think that them being teammates is really the thing that broke them. because if they hadn't been teammates, even if they had been championship rivals (a bit like lewis and seb) they would have been able to maintain their friendship at least somewhat.

because one of the biggest issues for both nico and lewis was how the team treated them. some of this is down to bad management imo, but fundamentally there can never be true equality between teammates, because there will always be one person in front of the other. in races, the person in front will usually get preferential strategy (although mercedes didn't do this on several occasions and nearly fucked things up) but sometimes team orders force drivers to do things for the team that they would rather not do (see nico letting lewis through in monaco 2016, or holding position behind lewis even though he was faster in malaysia 2013, or lewis being told to let nico through in hungary 2014). if you obey the team it can have a negative effect on the driver because they feel like they're accepting the secondary place in a team, but if you don't obey the team they're less likely to help you out. nico has also spoken about having to force the team to treat them more equally even in regards to who got to out first for a lap in qualifying, because if you don't force it, the team will always take the easiest way out.

being teammates and rivals is a very specific pressure cooker. lewis was able to maintain a good relationship with valtteri, because valtteri never challenged him (although the treatment from the team was incredibly negative for valtteri). lewis was always the priority, so he had the full team's support in a way that he didn't when nico was there, because there was always half a garage full of people that didn't want him to win. it became so factional that toto decided to swap some of the mechanics around to ease the tension in the team.

the other major factor in this is the car itself. a championship fight between teammates will always be more difficult because they have the same car. when you're fighting someone in a different car, there are a thousand engineering factors that can affect your speed and manoeuvrability. when you're in the same car, the driver is the major factor. it's why lewis and sky and cultLH went so hard on the sabotage theories in 2016, because they didn't want to admit that nico was ever better than lewis, and in several very crucial races, he really was.

plus, when teammates collide, as championship rivals often do, stewards tend not to give as many or as harsh penalties, and teams will never fight for a penalty, because that's still their driver that they would be arguing against. when the two alpines collided in australia last year, it probably should have been a penalty, but the stewards let it go because it was french on french violence. if pierre had hit someone from another team, it would have been a penalty. equally, if nico had hit anyone other than lewis in spa 2014, or lewis had hit anyone other than nico in spain 2016, they probably would have received penalties. but because the team won't fight for that, all of the consequences and punishment has to come from within the team, and depending on how that is handled, it can very easily lead to resentment and accusations of favouritism.

so if brocedes hadn't been teammates, i think they would have been able to be happy for each other's success. if nico had won with mercedes for at least a few years (i still think he would have retired around 2016 to be with his family more) while lewis was at red bull or ferrari, they would have been able to stay friends. in any other universe, even if they had fought for a championship, i think they wouldn't have got divorced, because the thing that broke them was being teammates

[missbabyjay]

New Beginnings - Bill Hader x f Reader

Part 1

Warnings: language! just some fluff, I'd also like to point out that Bill was never married in this dimension lmao. I'm hoping to make this a very detailed multi part fan fic. There isn't too much in this first part... i just wanted to lay out some background details for the remainder of the story! I am feeling really nervous to post this but hey! why not!

Word Count: 2.1 k

You are new to the SNL writing team and you quickly learn that it is impossible to not fall for Bill Hader at a rapid speed.

Part 2

MASTERLIST

. . .

The rain gently trickled against your window as you laid in bed, desperately trying to draw out your time soaking in the comfort of your pillows before you began your first lengthy day at SNL.

Wow. I'm really doing this.

You were nervous, and you had to admit to yourself the affect your feelings had on the motivation you so badly lacked for the day. You let out a groan, and half-heartedly threw yourself out of bed and proceeded to make your way to your washroom.

You should be excited for this.

The thoughts were rushing through your head at a pace you felt were uncontrollable, yet you continued with your morning routine. As the cold water washed over your face you felt a sense of transparency, and for the first time in the past week you felt as though this first day might not be as bad as you anticipated.

. . .

Growing up in a small town made the move to New York much more difficult. You always had an interest in writing and hoped one day you would be able to make a career out of it. Sure, you did stand up, but it wouldn't be able to pay your bills forever. You hopped between serving and bartending as it was a good way for you to make money through tips. Your family undermined your skills and that was just more of a reason for you to push yourself out of your comfort zone, and prove them wrong.

Thankfully you had spent a large chunk of time working in stand up comedy. You had travelled to many places throughout the country and wrote for not only yourself, but a handful of other amateur comedians. You lucked out while working a gig at a comedy club in New York City with a couple of your stand up buddies; John Mulaney just so happened to be at the show with the intentions of possibly scouting out a new writer for this season of SNL, as they were expecting one of the current writers to be leaving only a few months into the season.

As you finished your gig, you felt happiness wash over you. You knew that was your best gig yet. The audience had an energy unlike any other audience you had performed for.

You quickly headed to the bar afterwards, wanting to have a celebratory drink. As you stood waiting at the bar you heard your name being called from behind you, "Y/N Y/L/N?". You turned around, confused, because people didn't typically approach you after your gigs. You were still an amateur after all, and who would want to take photos with someone like yourself? But too much surprise you were face to face with one of your biggest inspirations; John Fucking Mulaney.

You felt your stomach turn while you were frozen with shock, "Y/N, right?" he spoke again with a cheeky smile, clearly recognizing your feelings of anxiousness. "Sorry, yes! That's my name! Don't wear it out!" you mentally face-palmed yourself after the words left your mouth with instant regret. But John just laughed, he was the last to judge someone with a quirky sense of humour as he was just the same.

After chatting for some time, John invited you to audition for a writing position at SNL. He enjoyed your sense of humour and thought you would be a great fit in the team, especially as he saw potential for the two of you to write together.

You could say your audition went well, as not only a week later you were contacted with the wonderful news that you were accepted on to the team. You felt so proud of yourself, knowing this is an accomplishment that many people don't get the pleasure of experiencing.

. . .

And that is how you ended up where you were on this dreary New York Monday morning.

Your apartment was small, but enough for you. As you finished getting yourself ready you quickly made a coffee, although the caffeine would most likely make you even more nervous than you already were to begin with.

I've got this. John Mulaney liked me. I wouldn't have passed the audition if they didn't like me. Snap out of this.

You were within walking distance to 30 Rock, so you began your walk embracing the cool colourless weather along the way. It's almost like nature was curing your anxious nerves. As you breathed in the cool air you felt your heart rate slow, and your mind wander to exciting thoughts, rather than nervous thoughts.

Will the members like me? I can't wait to meet some of my favourite comedians... Maybe my sketch will make it this week...

You approached 30 Rock and made your way up to the studio, not sure where to go or who to talk to. As the elevator doors opened you were met with chaos. The floor was filled with people. You assumed majority of these people were the ones working behind the scenes as you were only met with a few familiar faces. Suddenly, your eyes locked with a tall blue eyed man. Your heart rate quickly raised and goosebumps covered your body

Bill Hader. Holy Shit. He's beautiful.

He quickly rushed over to your surprise, and extended his arm to shake your hand, "My names Bill, I'm going to assume you are Y/N? John was telling me you'd be joining the team!". You quickly shook his hand, not wanting him to feel the sweat that had accumulated on your palms since you locked eyes with him. But my God, your knees nearly buckled the second you made contact almost as though you were melting to the ground.

Of course I know who he is. He's Bill Hader. Who doesn't know who he is? Holy shit we just touched.

He flashed you a nervous smile, "Here, follow me. I just saw John a few minutes ago. We'll hunt him down together" he said, followed by a cute little wink.

Just as you thought you had your nerves under control, the world around you felt as though it was spinning. You followed behind Bill through the chaos while he would glance behind him periodically to make sure you were still tagging along.

You arrived at a door that was briefly opened. Bill gently knocked and proceeded to open the door where you were met with John propped up at a desk twiddling a pen between his fingers with a concentrated look washed upon his face; "Y/N! Welcome to your first day!", he said with a big smile while wiggling his eyebrows playfully at you.

. . .

You spent your first day working alongside John, shadowing his work and learning the typical Monday schedule; everyone would settle down at a table, including the host, and sketch ideas would be thrown around. You felt quite nervous to speak up, but you and John had done some chatting beforehand and he assured you that everyone was eager to hear your ideas.

You threw some ideas out, but nothing really stuck, and that took a toll on your spirit for the week. Lorne wrapped up the jam session, and you met Bill's eyes as you looked up from your papers, you flashed him a small smile. It was almost as if he could notice the stress that had consumed you throughout the meeting. As you were grabbing your things and getting ready to meet with John in his office, you felt a hand gently placed on your shoulder; it was Bill.

"Y/N, is everything okay?", he said with great concern. What a sweet soul he has. You sighed, "Yeah, yeah, I just wish I would have been able to get a sketch into the lineup but it's okay, I guess." you said with a soft smile, "You wanna come to John's office with me?".

The two of you began walking towards John's office when Bill wrapped his arm around your shoulders and leaned in, "Seriously, don't let today get you down. You can help John and I write the Stefon sketch for this week. It'll be great". You felt like you were on a cloud. The feeling of his warm breath against your neck; the closeness shared between the two of you in that moment was never something you thought would occur.

Holy Shit. He just put his arm around me. What the fuck is going on right now... Is this really happening?

The two of you entered Johns room and from that moment on you felt a sense of relief. Being around John and Bill just felt right. You felt like a missing puzzle piece that was finally discovered; you felt like you finally found your place in the world.

The three of you chatted for awhile, getting to know each other on a deeper level. John had been working on SNL for three years at this point, and Bill had been there for six years; no wonder these two seemed so content with the regular schedule of SNL, the process was as easy as riding a bike to them. Whereas you felt the process was like a big cloud hanging over you, you were eager for Sunday to arrive already.

You told you life story to the two of them, leaving both of them to be surprised by the experiences you've had in the industry at the ripe age of 25. You felt so young and naive compared to them though. But their lack of judgement on you made you feel even more comfortable to open up to them.

. . .

The three of you finished your conversation and you said your goodbyes. As you walked down the hallway towards the elevators you felt relieved. Today went okay, maybe not exactly how you planned it would go, but it was okay. Not only did it end on a good note but you couldn't believe the instant connection you made with Bill. You tried to not be consumed in your thoughts; keeping a sense of clarity. You couldn't deny the way Bill made you feel, but it was only your first day and you needed to slow your eager thoughts down.

As you stood waiting for the elevator you heard quick paced steps behind you. You turned around and saw Bill nearly out of breath with his hands placed on his knees. "Woah there buddy, you okay?" you said followed by a few giggles, "I didn't want to miss you before you left, I was wondering if you'd maybe wanna grab a coffee and chat a bit more?" he said with almost a flustered look plastered on his face. "Yeah, sure." you managed to get out while feeling your heart rate rise.

He wants to spend one on one time with me?

Bill lead the way, flagging down a cab where he gave the address of a beloved coffee shop he would swing by before a long day at the studio. Little did you know Bill was excited to take you to one of his special places. He felt the same as you, eager to build your friendship and possibly one day be more than just friends.

The two of you conversed for a few hours. At first you felt tense, was this a date? No, no don't get ahead of yourself Y/N. Bill wanted to know everything about your upbringing. He seemed so interested in you and that made you fall for him even more.

"Do you live near by? I would love to walk you home if you don't mind", he said with a sweet, nervous smile. You felt so enamoured by the moment, "Absolutely, I would love that."

The two of you walked shoulder to shoulder through the busy streets of New York. Moments of silence would occur, but at no point did it feel awkward. It was comfortable silence. You kept catching Bill glancing down at you and you'd meet his face with a soft smile. The evening had been everything and more. And as the two of you approached your apartment complex you felt a sense of sadness. You didn't want the evening to end. You had grown so fond of him over the last few hours, your mind wondered where your relationship could possibly end up. He made you excited to be back in the office tomorrow.

"Well! Here's my stop!" you said followed with a giggle. You turned to face him and your eyes met. The both of you enjoyed it for a few moments before you smiled at Bill, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early Hader" followed by a cheeky wink. "You betcha, Y/N".

You walked into your complex, shortly arriving at your front door. You entered your living room, placed your book bag down, and plopped yourself on the couch. It was time for you to get some rest before the frantic week that laid before you.

A new beginning, I cannot wait.

[shittygaypornmagazine]

An Honest Christmas

It was stupid, Frank had to admit that. Not because he was particularly fond of being honest with himself - all the years in the closet might give you an impression on where he stood on this topic - but because he decided that this upcoming year, he will try and change his behaviour. Become more aware of himself and others. Just like his therapist told him. Because all that his therapist told him always was very wise, smart and reasonable. Just like that time when she said he has to treat himself once in a while. Oh, he took that advice to heart. And followed it ever since, every time he could.

For example, like, right now, while standing in the biggest LEGO store he had seen in his life, located in the Duty Free area of Toronto Airport. The only issue was that it was 3:34AM. And his flight departure was scheduled to 3:20AM.

"Shit," he squeaked, rushing outside the store towards gate E5. Maybe there was a slight, tiny chance that the flight got delayed and he simply didn't remember (that happened to him once already, so it wouldn't be a surprise)? "No, no, no..."

BOOM.

Wet- no, hot. Too hot.

"Fuck!" Frank looked down at the person who bumped into him, spilling their coffee all over him.

"Oh god I am sorry," the guy proclaimed, waiving his hands in panic. "I'm so sorry..."

At first glance Frank thought that the guy might have spilled the coffee over himself too, but then he realised that that's just how his clothes looked like: stained and old, like those of a mechanic, who's worked in a workshop for most of his life. Frank looked at the guy's face, to judge wether this description was suitable, and...

Hot- no, annoying. Too annoying.

"What the fuck, man?" snapped Frank. "I missed my flight!"

Oop. His therapist wouldn't like that. This is definitely not honesty. This was the exact opposite. And, considering he affected other people with it, if this little scene ever comes up in one of their sessions, they'd have to go back like two months of therapy. And Frank didn't want that. He wanted the progress. Wanted the changes. He wanted to be Ok. So he took a breath listening to the other guy's rambling.

He had a name tag on his suspenders: LEO VALDEZ. Frank hummed to himself.

"So you agree?" the guy asked, probably thinking Frank replied to something he said.

Frank blinked. "Uh. What?"

"I can buy you another ticket. For the next flight. Wherever you're headed."

Frank blinked again.

His original ticket's cost was laughable, which meant that the plane was, probably, just a bus with two cupboard wings; but the next flight was by an actual Respectable Airplane Company, and the cost looked accordingly. But if the guy - Leo - insisted... Frank was greedy and selfish enough to accept the offer. Besides, he really needed to get home, to Vancouver. To his grandma.

"Fine," he said. "I- thanks, I guess. But, uh... Aren't you here for a flight either?"

Leo grinned. Frank reminded himself that honesty is not always a blessing.

"I work here," he said. "I mean, not here, here... But in airports, generally. And sometimes I sneak in, to catch a ride. Have a thing for flying metal things. Remind me of dragons"

"Or transformers," Frank snorted.

"Do not bring this shit show into this engineeringly skilled household."

"Wow," Frank raiser his eyebrows. "You must be fun at parties."

Leo placed a hand on his chest. "I am hilarious at parties, thank you very much."

"You're welcome," chuckled Frank.

For some reason, Frank hoped for Leo to turn out an annoying asshole, so he'd have a valid reason to absolutely hate his guts for making him sit at a random McDonald's in the middle of the night, in coffee soaked clothes. But his hoped were in vain, because Leo McShizzle was, indeed, fucking hilarious. Again, not that Frank would admit that to himself. Or to Leo.

When the guy joked, Frank would roll his eyes, or - if the joke was actually good - continue the bit with a sarcastic tone. And maybe he did grin like once. Or twice. But it's not like Leo was looking at him when it happened, so it doesn't matter. He doesn't have to admit it happened. His therapist won't know. No one will, actually. This will remain his little Airport secret. Because that's what all kinds of Airport affairs always were.

"You can't say that," Frank shook his head while they were waiting in line for ticket purchase.

"Why not?" Leo asked, fiddling with his belt.

"Because it's bullshit," Frank said. "Take it from me, I'm a security guard."

"Well," Leo shrugged. "This doesn't change the fact that this place is shit, and so is the security."

"It's the biggest airport in the country."

"That's the thing!" Leo waved his hand. "Here you have a false sense of security."

Frank raised his hand. "I wouldn't say it's false."

"Listen, I've been behind the scenes. And let me tell you; you have no idea how easy it would be, to take that whole building under one single person's control."

"It sounds like something they'd arrest you for saying."

"I thought you would agree with me," Leo scoffed. "As a security guard."

"Well, I don't work at airports. Don't have the right level of license yet. For now I'm more like... School and Kindergarten kind of guard."

"The Fun Ruiner," Leo nodded. "Suits you."

"Hey, I don't ruin anyone's fun!" Frank said, offended. "Kids have to be in school when they are supposed to."

"Mhm," Leo said, gravely, as if confirming a diagnosis. "Just like I thought. A rare case of a Good Cop."

"Shut up."

"Of course, darling," Leo winked at him.

That was the last thing he said before buying Frank his new ticket. And since then things turned kind of... weird. There was no reason for Leo to stay with him, but he still did. And it was annoying. Of course it was. It had to be. Because Frank "came out as bisexual only because of two of his best friends" Zhang couldn't develop a crush on a dude who spilled coffee on him. That wouldn't work. Normal couples sometimes recreated their first meetings after years of dating, and Frank dreaded the day that idea might be brought up, because, well- no. Stop. Wait. Why was he thinking about it?! He didn't even know the guy, so why was he...?

His thoughts were interrupted by an announcement. A flight - Frank's flight - was departing in 50 minutes and all the passengers had been invited to check in and board the plane.

"Well," Leo smiled. "Guess that's my cue. My break was over about an hour ago but, you know, considering I kind of ruined all of your plans for the day..."

"Eh, you know..." Frank shrugged, awkwardly. "Happens."

Leo raised his eyebrows. "Not what you said at first."

"I was very much pissed at first," Frank admitted. Honestly.

"That checks out," Leo nodded. "And you know who has to check in?"

Frank felt his eyes roll back, towards the ceiling. "Oh, my god..."

"I'm right here, no need to call me."

"You- oh, shut up."

"That's how you part ways with me? Really?" Leo clicked his tongue. "Who raised you?"

"My mom told me not to talk to strangers," Frank said and, picking up his bag, started walking towards his gate.

"A stanger?! Is that how you call it now?!" cried Leo. "I thought we had a binding moment!"

"Don't remember. Didn't happen!"

Except that it did. It did happen. He did remember. And the worst of all: he didn't forget. But even so, the universe decided to remind him of that again about three months later, when Frank was being late to his shift at his new job at the Vancouver airport, and bumped into someone, spilling his tea all over them.

@yourlocalmorosoph this is a devotion for you, and a thank you for helping me to come up with the whole thing to @leovaldezdefender 🥹✨

[danpuff-ao3]

violent ask game... 8, 10 and 12 pls? :)

Also... don't be scared, fandom is not half as violent as people imply... most of the time :)

Hello there! Thanks for these! 😄

8.) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Hmmm! My mind sort of immediately jumps to anti-shipping 😂 That's the biggest thing I would say is common to see that I would also call wrong. The only thing people's reading/writing preferences tell you is that they enjoy reading or writing that thing. That's it. No one's a bad person for reading/writing content that makes you uncomfortable.

10.) worst part of fanon

Gosh. Partly I think confusing fanon for canon but, specifically, when people are wrong and want to argue about it. Now I will admit I'm a big lover of "Snape as Draco's godfather." I know some people don't like it, and I understand why they don't, but I will eat it up like candy! However: I know it's not canon. Also: I'm not gonna fight anyone about it. AND: on the off chance I did spout nonsense and found out I was wrong, I wouldn't double down. I'd go fact check myself and be like "oops my bad, you right." It's bad enough when people wanna get up in arms over fandom of all things, but it's worse when you're doing it when you're WRONG.

12.) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

SNAPE. SNAPE. SEV-ER-US SNAPE.

This feels weird because I'm obviously in the Snapedom and am surrounded by much Snape love, but...I feel like he's a character people either love or hate with very little in between.

I stumble upon Snaters in the wild and get my feelings hurt because Severus Snape was my first love. (I read the books when I was like 7 and it was love at first sight, okay?) (And I turn 31 on Monday, if that tells you anything.)

Reddit post: "List of Reasons Snape is the WORST" me: yeah I know, don't you see why I love him??

For me it's sort of twofold. The best reason I can probably sell people with is that he's a complex character. The complexity gets lost a bit when people are so hellbent on painting the portrait of a "tragic hero" or a "terrible villain." Our man has layers, okay? Like an onion.

Is he nasty and rude and cruel? Yep. Is he also intelligent and passionate and devoted? Also yep. Did he do some really fucked up shit? Yep. Did he also do some really good deeds? Also yep. This man runs the dang spectrum! Join some blood supremacists? Yikes. Die in the war effort to save the world? Okay that part I don't want to talk about, I'm still not over it.

He had horrible, terrible things happen to him. He grew up in poverty. He was in a neglectful, if not abusive environment. He was bullied in school, and sexually assaulted. But he wasn't a "good" victim, see. He wasn't a sweet lil fella. He wasn't fragile; he was sharp. And he wasn't exactly likable; which made all attacks on him seemingly "excusable." So yeah, we can see why he went down a dark path. It's not okay by any means, but surely one can understand it.

And when it came down to it, he changed his mind. A lot of people nowadays can't do that. It's hard to change your ways, and say "hey I was wrong, I'm turning away from this now." But he did. And he put himself in danger to spy on Voldemort. And yeah, this very traumatized dude went on to traumatize other people. Hurt people hurt people, as they say. But he tried. He gave so much of his time and his life to righting his wrongs.

His life was spent in suffering. All the abuse he endured. The disdain. Then his own self-hatred when he realized where he went wrong. And those wounds never healed. He was forever haunted by his pain, and by his mistakes.

Which sort of leads me to my second point: he's not perfect. He's not an easy person to love. But he's so terribly human. He's just a man who was put through the crucible time and again. He wasn't perfect. He never became this handsome, flawless gentleman. There is so much to him! There is enough to judge and hate, sure, but there's also plenty to love. And this is such a strong case of....people aren't all good or bad. His good and his bad are both so clear! And I can't get enough of it, I stg. I love this man. Truly just adore him.