#but at this point oh my GOD I do NOT CARE
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The conversation at the intersection of race, politics, and economics in the U.S. is never going to have real progression beyond “Oh my god, this is so horrible! why does it keep happening?!” Because people are lazy.
They don’t want to do the hard work of uprooting archaic systems and implementing new ones, they don’t want to think deep about the roots of systemic and continuous problems, they don’t care about how capitalist nations have guaranteed that non-capitalist ones continuously fail. At the end of day they want easy answers and people that fit into neat little boxes, so when things go wrong, a finger can be pointed at something and go “Aha!” Implement something to make life worse for the average American (if they implement anything at all), and then go back to existing in bliss.
The level of cognitive effort required to think critically about our society is far beyond what they are capable of providing. I mean this is the same group of people who mistreat their children for decades and then get surprised when they go no-contact. Trying to convince the far right of anything that they haven’t already been pre-disposed to think is such an uphill battle that it’s not even worth it. You will have an easier time getting pigs to fly than convincing them MLK Jr. was a leftist.
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Great Shift; On The Farm
Andy:
I’ve been having a hard time adjusting to my new body especially since it belonged to my big brother Henry.
But Henry is having an even harder time with things. We are polar opposites and he hates having my “scrawny gay” body. (His words not mine)
That’s why my parents thought it would be a great idea for me to spend the summer with my grandpa on the farm.
My grandpa was also shifted into my cousin Garrett’s body which makes us the same age now. Weird right?
So when I arrive I see my grandpa outside in Garrett’s body doing some work. And I’m surprised by how he looks. It’s been years since I’ve seen Garrett and his body looks a lot different.
Handsome, I might say.
I feel myself getting somewhat excited about the thought but immediately turned it down in my head. That’s still my cousin’s body with my grandpa in it.
I get dropped off by my dad (who’s in our neighbor Rogers body).
“Hey dad! You never looked better,” he says to my grandpa.
“Yeah and you look older,” he says with a big smirk and a wink.
“Geez, thanks.”
“Andy! How are you bud?” says my grandpa pulling me in for a hug and I can feel his shirtless sweaty body rubbing up on me.
“Hey grandpa!” I say trying not to get a boner.
“Oh no! I’m not grandpa anymore, I’m just Harry now.”
“Oh okay, sorry.”
“Hey don’t apologize, you and I are going to have a lot of fun this summer.”
Grandpa or ‘Harry’ messes up my hair a bit.
“Great, I can’t wait!”
My dad says goodbye to us as I grab my bags. Grandpa or Harry— walks in with me and we catch up for a few.
“How are things for you Andy? Are you adjusting well to your brother’s body?”
“ I guess so, at least better than Henry with mine. I don’t know it’s all still odd to me.”
“Well I know it takes time but just embrace it. This is probably permanent and as much as I hate it for your cousin— I’ve accepted his body as my own. I actually feel comfortable in it. Plus, your cousin was a prick prior to everything— god love him. I’d say this humbled him. Probably will humble Henry too. I remember when those boys used to pick on you.”
“Yeah…” I said looking down at my brothers hands. Flashbacks from years ago started to fill my head back when Henry and Garrett used to trick me into doing stupid stuff.
“But that doesn’t matter now, Andy. This is the new us. So let’s enjoy ourselves! Wanna beer? You’re old enough now haha.”
“Uhhh sure!”
We both sat at the table and drank beer together.
I listen to Harry talk but I can’t take my eyes off of his shirtless chest.As he’s talking, he pulls off his shoes and I can instantly smell his stinky feet.
He pulls his sock off and now I have a full view of his foot. He notices me looking and says, “sorry that smell so bad.”
“No you’re good, I don’t mind.”
“Oh no! What if I—”
He takes Garrett’s foot puts it up close to my face.
I jump back to make it seem like I was grossed out.
“Hahaha sorry! Just wanted to make you jump! You have no idea how much I appreciate these smelly toes…” he says rubbing his foot. “I used to have a hard time walking and now I can do anything!”
Harry continues to tell me about how things are so different from when he was originally 21. And I learned so much about him that I didn’t know.
Hours past and it’s around 8. We cook dinner together and both of us were pretty lit by then.
We eat and by this point both of us are ready for bed.
Harry, who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world and is way more hammered than me, strips off all of his clothes down to his briefs.
He crawls into bed and tells me to give him a hug. I do and I notice something strange… he’s fondling his crotch.
Oh my!! He has a boner! Even the head of his dick is coming out of his briefs.
Of course I don’t point it out, I just try to say good night to him.
But before he lets me go he gives me a kiss on the lips. It took me so off guard and yet I felt that same excited energy like earlier. As I pull back, he says to me, “you just wait, this is going to be the best summer yet.”
“Okay Harry, I’ll see you in the morning.”
I hit the light and look at him in bed. My dick gets hard just at the sight of his feet.
I walk up to him and snoring. I carefully bend down and sniff them.
Fuckkkkk…
I go to the guest bedroom, licking my lips from Harry’s sloppy kiss and kick off all of the clothes I had on.
I look at Henry’s reflection in the mirror. I’ve had some shame about being put into this body. And yet it wasn’t anything I could control.
I think about what Harry said to me. “Embrace my new body.”
Well I guess if this is mine permanently then I need to accept it.
I sit on the ground and look at the feet that used to belong to my big brother… but they’re mine now. I control them. And you know what? Like I them!
I grab on to MY 10 inch dick and started pumping it. Letting out grunts… shit it feels so good! I haven’t jerked off since the shift…
I rub my hands over my chest and back down to my thighs. I feel my butt cheeks and grab on to one.
I watch myself in the bedroom mirror making lustful faces to myself. Although I look like some country boy, I’m still the same skinny gay guy deep down. Or maybe I’m now something in the middle?
I feel my balls tighten and I knew I was close. Cum squirts out of me and it’s so much of it.
I feel so much relief, it’s been so long!
I clean myself up and try my cum for the first time.
I lay back in bed and begin to slowly fall asleep.
The Next Morning…
“Hey bud, you ready to start our day?” says Harry.
My first thing I see in morning is Harry’s bulge. Half way awake I’m almost tempted to touch it.
“Good morning…”
I pull the blanket off of me and Harry has a big grin across his face.
“Someone must have been having a good dream,” he says directing to my crotch.
I look down at my naked frame and my raging morning wood.
“Oh sorry!” I say tossing the blanket back over.
“Oh don’t be! Also, don’t worry about hiding your parts from me. Especially that handsome thing you got between your legs.”
I pull the blanket back and Harry sits by my bed.
“Do you mind if I?” he says gesturing to it again.
“Sure!”
Harry grabs my dick and I let out a little grunt.
He starts running his fingers all over and I’m in such a state of shock I almost thought it was all a dream.
“Boy this is such a good lookin cock! Sorry for playing with your junk. I’m just so horny in this body and it’s been a bit since I’ve seen someone else’s bits.”
“I don’t mind at all Harry.”
Harry continues to fondle my wood and it’s almost too much to handle. I need to just tell him how I feel, I mean he can’t make it more obvious on his feelings.
“Harry!”
“Yeah?”
“I have to tell you something?”
“What is it?”
“I’m so attracted to you, I don’t know if it’s right or wrong but I want you so bad right now.”
“Well, I have to say that I have the same feelings. And honestly don’t know what to do with them either.”
“Well we could just act on them…”
Harry puts my cock down and gets close to my face.
“If we do this we can’t go back.”
“I know.”
“Also we can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t tell a single person.”
“Good.”
Harry kisses me with so much passion, he kisses down my neck, my chest, all the way until he’s face to face with my cock.
Harry sucks me off and I watch him work my dick. He feels up and down my Harry balls.
“Ohhhh god Harry!!!”
His warm mouth feels so good. I can only hold out for so long….
“Fuccccc!!!!! Harry! I’m gonna cum!”
I expected him to pull back but he keeps his mouth on my dick.
I explode into Harry’s mouth. He sucks all of it out of me until I’ve released every last drop.
He looks up at me with a big grin and cum dripping from his lips, “you taste good bud!”
“Thanks lol, so… do you want me to…”
Before I can say anything Harry yanks off his underwear and lays back in bed.
“Show me what you got,” he says with a smirk.
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König x GN reader!!
My pretty boy.
König, your boyfriend of 2 years, stood by the mirror. The same mirror which was placed infront of the bed you were laying on, the shared bed of your shared apartment.
You noticed that he was staring at himself with a frown, causing you to frown as well. He lifted out a hand to touch his stomach, then his other hand to touch his face filled with scars.
Realising the situation, you stood up from the bed and walked towards him to wrap your hands around his waist.
Luckily, your much larger hands and taller height made it easier to do so.(ik ik ik, König's a 6'10 or smth but let me dream)
You leaned down to kiss the side of his neck, causing a shiver out of the man.
"Liebling, what are you doing?" He asks in a shaky voice, his accent clear as day when he was nervous.
"Showing love to my pretty boy." You replied knowingly, a smile on your face as you continued kissing all over his neck.
Now, normally you'd get a snarky remark from him. But now, he was silent, contemplating your words. After a few moments, he spoke up.
"Pretty? Don't be ridiculous. I look like shit... I gained weight..."
"So? That'll just make our cuddle session even better." You whispered in his ear as you placed a hand on his stomach.
He let out a huff of slight annoyance. He couldn't understand why you were acting like this, were you blind? He had a scarred face and a fat body. You seriously found that attractive?
"My face is scarred, my body-"
"Is beautiful." You cut him off. "Sweetheart, you're beautiful to me, scars and all." You assured with a smile.
A slight blush on the back of his neck could be seen. He felt like crying. Hell, he could already feel the tears build up. God, was he grateful to have you. Forever grateful to have you hold him and whisper how beautiful he was.
You held his hand and led him over to the bed to sit down. Despite not knowing what you were planning to do, he trusted you. He trusted you to love him and care for him. He trusted you with his life.
You sat down next to him and leaned down to press kisses all over his rough skin. He whined in protest as his blush got redder and redder. He would tell you to stop in German, even though he could easily make you stop himself. Yet, he didn't. He let you, despite his half-hearted protest.
You whispered praises into his ear as your hand caressed every inch of his body, earning a soft moan from him.
You told him how beautiful he was and how much you loved him, loves worshipping him. And worshipped him you did. You spent hours kissing and nipping his skin, your eyes filled with awe as you worshipped his beautiful body. He would moan, whine, shiver at every touch and word. He felt like heaven.
While the process, he started to cry. He cried out in pleasure, embarrassment, and love. He loved how you worshipped him, how you praised and kissed him. At the same time, he was embarrassed on how much he enjoyed this. Yet, he felt too much pleasure to even care at this point.
His mind felt foggy, his body twitching, his hands coming up to grip your shirt as if it was grounding him. He couldn't even form words at this point. Instead, he just sobbed into the fabric of your shirt.
He was grateful, oh so grateful for you. He treasured you, loved you with all his heart. In his world filled with darkness, you were his only light.
"Please... Please don't leave me."
Request are open!!!
#kortac#cod x you#cod#könig#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig x reader#male reader#female reader#gender neutral reader#cod mw2#call of duty#cod x reader#cod konig#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig x you#konig mw2#konig x reader
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» Eyes On Me
sypnosis » lara couldn't focus during practice, her eyes were glued to you and daniela — as jealousy simmers in her , she takes it all out on you
warning » smut, jelousy, choking, angry sex, swearing
talks » so many reqs , and Santa baby is almost donee — expect me to lit grind
taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh
lara has been making mistakes left and right during practice — to the point even sophia was getting infuriated, countless groans were heard every time lara made a mistake and she didn't even apologize nor do better
"lara! can you focus?— we've been repeating this part for like 30 minutes straight" sophia snaps at lara
meanwhile you were busy trying to learn a hard part in the choreo — daniela has been helping you understand it and teach you how to do it more easier
"like this?" you ask daniela who had her hand on your waist, "sort of adjust this more" daniela replies moving your waist to the proper position
the practice room was filled with tension you knew lara was mad — you just didnt know why, she's been awfully rude to everyone and even to you
which is a stark contrast to her before getting to the practice room, she was very cuddly just earlier which confused you
"oh my god why are you up my ass for?!" lara screamed back at sophia
"thats it get out of the room cool off or something lara" sophia mutters already getting impatient
you saw lara glance at you and daniela before ultimately leaving the room—you ran after her telling sophia that you were gonna help her cool off
which she protested against yet you didn't listen, "lara?" you ask trying to find her
"what?" lara snaps — she stood near the janitors closet her hands clenched
"lara why are you like that" you ask concerned with her recent actions — you approach lara putting your hand on her shoulder
"oh my gosh are you fucking stupid?" lara says, pushing you to a nearby wall cornering you
her eyes spoke thousands of words and emotions, she looked angry and vulnerable
"what did i do?" you ask — "practically suck up to dani that's what you did" she replied
"what do you mean?" you respond confused with why she is mad and
lara pushes open the janitors closet trapping you both in the room — "her hands on your waist and your faces unbelievably close to eachother?, you know damn well what i mean y/n don't play coy" lara hisses
her left hand hurriedly removed your pants and lifted your shirt as her right was trained on your neck barely giving you air to breathe
"mine, all fucking mine" lara mutters as she leans forward capturing your lips in an intoxicating kiss — her hands continued to grope and roughly handle your body
she sighs in pleasure as she feels your damp underwear, she pushes it to the side and plunges her fingers in you effectively making you whimper
"so fuckin' tight" lara groans her lips now on your neck leaving hickeys and licking over it — you couldnt care less about the place you both were in neither if you two get caught
her digits redouble their efforts making your legs slightly shake — "lara" you moan her name repeating it like a sickeningly sweet song
"hmm this is mine—not even fucking daniela can make you feel this good" she mumbles her lips now on your chest leaving marks
it all felt too good — if you're gonna be honest you have never been in a relationship like you have with lara — she was perfect and her jealousy just adds to the thrill
"y-yours! shit" you moan loudly as you quake around her fingers coming undone
lara pulls out a few seconds later, licking some of the nectar on her fingers, "suck" lara says pushing her digits in between your lips
going back inside the practice room was another story, manon looks at you with a cheeky and mischievous look while sophia just looked disgusted
"y/n fix your hair" sophia says — lara does fix your hair and your shirt — whispering an apology in your ear
#katseye imagines#katseye x reader#lara raj#lara katseye#eclipze loves lara#katseye#katseye fanfic#katseye smut#lara raj smut#lara rajagopalan#lara raj imagines
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I almost trip in shock.
The prince? Here? With a cake?
I must have lost my mind… maybe smelled one too many Dusklilies and I’m hallucinating. The image of a prince in his pristine outfit, complete with his little hat, standing in the middle of my living room/room/kitchen, with a dirt floor and an old Merlin’s Magical Goods tarp for a ceiling, was one I never thought I’d see.
Some remaining sane part of me screams “Say something!”, but shock is a funny thing. I’m stiff like late King Corvious’ statue and my mouth as dry as the Hasar Desert.
“Uh— is she dumb?” His Majesty asks.
That brings me back.
“Of course not!” I yelp. Quickly remembering I could lose my head for being rude, I add begrudgingly, “Erm, Your Majesty”.
I can’t remember when was the last time Prince Ellias left the palace. Rumor has it he’s been preparing for his ascension to the throne day and night, working to master his talents — mysterious powers no one knows about. I’ve always thought he’s just a stuck up bitch baby that won’t get his pretty little silk slippers dirty.
Sure, he is beautiful. Gray-blue eyes, sculpted face, silky black hair falling on his face gracefully… but nice? The stories seem to tell otherwise, and I’m confirming that live.
“You don’t seem like a flower girl at all”, the baby says, a sneer on his face. He looks me up and down, pointedly stopping at my empty hands.
The bastard. Like I wanted to do this. Stealing flowers and selling them is easier than stealing and selling anything else. Hells, there’s a house in Puckard Street owned by a blind lady that has a huge garden with all sorts of plants and it’s not like she will notice them missing.
The prince looks back at his advisor, confusion mixed with disdain. The advisor shrugs back, hands trembling a little over some papers.
“She’s the only flower lady in the realm that’s in her 20s and has a birthday today, Your Majesty,” the advisor tries to whisper, nervousness lacing his voice.
To me he says, mustering courage, “the Prince wishes to celebrate your birthday, as a sign of thanks for your service to the realm”.
I don’t buy it. So I stare at him point blank.
The Prince sighs, clearly debating something with himself, his body hunched as if in defeat.
The part of me that cares not for her head blurts out, “What.”
And suddenly, he’s on me.
His lips are trying to find mine and my two brain cells can’t decide between stabbing him with my hidden knife or kissing him and seeing where this is going, hopefully leading to some money. I’m tired of living in this alley makeshift house my mother left me in.
I decide to push him. Instinct I guess.
“You— what the hells is going on?!” I scream pushing with all my strength and the two loafs of bread I’ve had to eat today.
He stumbles back, his advisor catching him. His eyes lock with mine as he says “I will not continue to live with this curse, stop making this harder on yourself”.
The fuck?
Why can’t I have nice things? I mean, it’s my birthday for god’s sake! Where do these people get these ideas from? How can I, a mere flower girl that hasn’t two pennies to rub together, break a curse?
“What in the Hells are you saying?!” I stare back and hard. I will not stand for this.
“It’s your birthday is it not? The prophecy states I must share a love kiss with a ‘girl touched by flowers on the date of her 25th year or the darkness will persist’” he exclaims as if I had to have knowledge of this, because of course, who wouldn’t.
I can only stare in disbelief.
That damned mother of mine. She truly was a witch. And she truly meant it when she said she’d give me “the realm and the world to lead”. I thought she was on something. Balckcapped mushrooms perhaps.
And I, naturally, break out laughing.
The cake is a nice touch, but this is a game I can play too.
“Oh, Prince, I would most definitely kiss you, but this will cost you”, I purr.
The advisor bites his lip and closes his eyes, as the prince squints his eyes and shakes his head. I can hear him mutter to himself, “flower girl alright”.
I smile and mentally start to prepare for the rest of my life.
You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.
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I need some more of reader and John moments bc🤭 loving for it
If you asked Nico a year ago what he'd be doing today, he sure as hell wouldn't have said this. Thinking back on it, he can't even begin to imagine what that poor sap of his former self would even say.
'Driving the girl I'm sleeping with but also care about six hours all the way to Pittsburgh to pick up John fucking Marino who she just so happened to fucking love.'
Yeah right, he thinks bitterly.
Your foot nudges his elbow, sock clad toes pressing right into the soft spot of his funny bone. Nico takes one hand off the steering wheel, grabbing at your toes and pinching just hard enough to make you jolt. Giggling, you spring away from his hands, feet falling from the center console and he feels that tiny moment of bitterness fade away.
Especially when you pop your head into the front seat, cheek pressing into his bicep.
"You're supposed to be buckled." Nico scolds lightheartedly, an endeared smile rising on his lips when you nuzzle into the soft skin on the underside of his arm.
"I wanted to say hi."
He scoffs. "You should've sat up here then."
Nico can feel the pout that droops across your face. "I wanted to sit with Johnny."
"Decisions, decisions." He hums, "I wouldn't have fallen asleep on you like he did."
Your hands reach forward, locking around the arm he's got outstretched towards the steering wheel. "You can't, you're our driver."
"Ouch, from boyfriend to driver all because he got here?"
Giggling, you tug on his arm until it falls to rest on the center consol. Instinctively he offers you his hand, and you thread your fingers through his. "My boyfriend, our driver."
His stomach swoops pleasantly, butterflies fluttering around the empty crevices of his gut and ribs. Boyfriend, he'll never get tired of hearing that. A flattered smile dimples his cheeks, unable to form words he just hums.
"Can I come sit up there?"
"Not while the car is driving."
You make a noise of complaint. "Can we stop for food?"
"When I see somewhere to eat, yeah."
You point out the front windshield at the next exit. "McDonald's."
Nico makes a face. "Not good for you."
"If you feed Johnny bad food it'll make even more tired and lazy."
Damn you and your sneaky ways. Nico puts on his blinker, moving lanes to exit the highway. "And shorten his lifespan, hopefully." He says under his breath, flinching when you bite into his arm in retaliation. "Ow, what was that for?"
"Because I love you."
Nico shakes his head, taking the exit ramp and suddenly you're slipping away into the backseat. He hears you shuffling, comes to a stop at the light and almost instantly you're squirming over the console.
"Oh my god we're five seconds away from the restaurant!" He complains, outraged that you still wormed your way up here after he said no.
"The car isn't driving." You smile, blowing your hair out of your face and settling into the seat. Nico shoots you an unimpressed look and you buckle up as he pulls into the almost empty parking lot. "What am I supposed to get him?"
"I don't know. I guess we wake him up."
Nico stretches his arm across your body, holding you steady as he slams on the brakes. The rolling car halts, tiring screeching and you flop into his arm. Johnny however crashes into the back of Nico's seat, yelping as he scrambles to get his bearings.
"Nico!" You gasp, and he cackles. The car rolls forward into the drive-thru lane and you unbuckle to turn to Johnny. "Are you ok?"
A curly head of hair pops into the front seat, Johnny's narrowed gaze locking on Nico. "Fine," he spits, and you comfortingly run your fingers through his hair. Nico ignores the way it makes his own scalp ache, wanting to feel you play with his hair too.
"What do you want to eat?" He asks, casually. Which was the wrong move because now he's debating with you about a burger or spicy chicken sandwich, but also nuggets sound good, and did you see the happy meal toy?
"Oh my god pick something!" Nico exclaims, and you both fall silent. A heavy tension sits in the air and he's tempted to roll down his window to air it out but doesn't want to risk the workers hearing him yell at you two like children.
So he just glares at Johnny, who is looking from you to Nico, and you're watching both of them with wide innocent eyes. Always so sweet looking, like you did nothing wrong. Like you didn't trick Nico into this whole stupid road trip when Johnny is capable of driving himself.
Still eyeing him, Johnny mutters out of the side of his mouth to you. "The driver is grumpy."
Nico swears he can feel his eye twitch, feel a stroke building in his brain and he's two seconds away from just driving off. "He's a much better boyfriend," you whisper, as if he can't hear you. Nico's unamused gaze moves to you, and you blink at him with big doe eyes.
"I want a double cheeseburger please, with a tea."
Nico sighs. "Ok, and you?"
Johnny forces a polite smile. "Number 3 with a coke please."
Huffing, Nico shifts to roll down his window just as he gets to the speaker and menu. "And a better driver, sheesh."
"Oh for fucks sake!"
"Cara, don't let him throw me out of the car!" Johnny pleads, hiding in the back seat again. You shrug him off, leaning into Nico's shoulder again and laying a hand on his thigh.
"Please let me keep him?" You pout, and Nico obviously can't say no so he just goes back to ordering.
Maybe on the highway he can throw him out of the car, Nico thinks but deep down he knows he can't. That's your Johnny in the backseat and as long as you want him around, Nico will make sure he's there.
Even if it makes him want to rip his hair out.
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Bunni that lighter x virgin reader was so GOOD??? YOUR BRAIN SO BIG?? it got me all embarrassed reading it, I had to take breaks in between cause the image of soft dom lighter is just so abgssngausgahstshh???? (I was also blasting ‘Like You Mean’ It by Steven Rodriguez when I was reading ur fic like oh god this song fits lighter so much 😳)
Aaaanyways I was wondering if you have any hcs for the day after lighter takes readers first time or any after care that he’d do? Also bit of a tangent but do you think lighter is the type to have cheesy nicknames for his partner like idk…sugar? Pumpkin? Or would he go the normal babe and doll type
Sorry it’s a bit long, I’m just happy to see lighter writers you all are a blessing thank you for the food 🤲🏼
🍓Hello lovely! Sorry I took so long to get to this, I'm p sure the hype around that fic is over, but this has been on my mind for so long and I just haven't had the motivation. I got some now, though, so here it is! (this is less headcannons and more a whole fic in bulletpoints lol) I hope you enjoy <3
TW: Day after; Alludes to previous sexual intercourse; Grammar Errors
Info: Lighter x Reader; Fluff; Headcannons
-You wake up to sunlight filtering in through the small crack between Lighters blinds, the warmth on your face a kindness that calls you to stir to life. There's a heavy weight across your middle and on your chest, accompanied by a different type of warmth -- human warmth.
-Your eyelids flutter open and, of course, you see your beloved partner Lighter curled up into your chest. He looked so peaceful resting like this, like all his worries had melted away from his mind and into the sheets until he woke up.
-You bring your hands up to play with his fluffy hair, smiling when he huffs a bit in his sleep, burrowing himself further into your chest if that is possible. Even in sleep he was trying to find ways to get you closer to him...
-Though he'd technically gotten you as close as possible last night if the dull ache inside you was telling enough. You could feel the sting in your hips already, and you would certainly limp a little when you got up, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.
-His green eyes blink up at you after a while of playing with his hair, foggy and glazed from sleep. He still finds it in himself to smile affectionately at you, and you can't help but smile back.
-"G'morning beautiful," He rumbles out, voice rough from his moaning last night, "Sleep well?"
-You nod at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his puffy lips in appreciation. That was answer enough for him and he lifted his weight off you in favor of leaning over you.
-He asks you if you're aching anywhere, and promptly massages your hips with the calloused pads of his fingers. The friction still surprisingly pleasant, and the ache in your hips eases up a little. It warms your heart, the amount of care he treats you with.
-He'll coo at you sweetly as he tries his best to ease the pain, mumbling about how much he enjoyed last night. How pretty you are. How much he loves you. How grateful he is you trusted him. All the sweet nothings.
-He takes the morning uncharacteristically slow, having been excused by Caesar apparently, or so he claims. He lazes around with you, happy just to have you in his arms for a while. You do, however, have to get up at some point which he grumbles about when you move to roll out of the sheets.
-You were right about the ache in your hips, you end up limping your way to the shower, and standing for the duration of it sucks. Lighter offers to help you out, but you insist on doing it by yourself (you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself if you'd let him).
-Instead, you let him pick out some old clothes of his to wear, since yours don't exactly smell the best at this point. A too big t-shirt and a pair of sweats that no longer fit him find their way to your arms
-He waits for you patiently, like a puppy locked away from its owner during work hours. It's very cute. He's dressed now, cleaned up by himself while you were gone it seems. He practically leaps to greet you, pulling you into a sweet kiss. You hadn't expected him to be so clingy, but it was incredibly charming.
-He guides you carefully through Blazewood to get breakfast from Cheesetopia -- or, brunch more like it. You figured after your first time you would be a bit awkward, but Lighter didn't allow you any room for that. All was as usual, assuring you that nothing major had changed. Which, why would it have?
-Well... there was one thing...
-Caesar sat in a booth as you walked in, and the grin on her face said it all. She waved you over, and Lighter begrudgingly helped you over. You do your best to hide the limp, though it's absolutely futile with Caesars next words.
-"Have fun last night you two?" She teases, and humiliation washes over you -- Lighter's cheeks also turning a deep red, "No need to answer. We all heard you last night."
-Obviously, everyone around here knew of your relationship with Lighter... they didn't need to know the details. When you don't answer in your fluster, Caesar scoffs and waves her hands playfully. "Just kiddin', I stopped by to check up when you two disappeared. Congrats though!"
-She leaves you to eat after nearly giving you a heart attack, and you happily enjoy what you ordered. Feeling incredibly hungry after the night you had. Lighter doesn't seem to interested in his food, though. Just watching you with that same intensity from last night.
-You ask what's wrong, and he smiles wide at you, "Nothing, just admiring what's mine."
-You don't respond to that, because there's nothing you could say that's nearly as smooth as that.
Bonus:
You had me thinking about the nicknames a lot. I think that he definitely uses babe and baby the most. It's simple and easy to say, and people won't bat an eye if he calls you something like that. But he has other nicknames he uses you, some for specific situations, others just because he likes to switch it up sometimes.
Sugar is something he uses almost exclusively during sex. It's his way of coercing you into letting him take care of you, especially when you're acting all shy like it's an inconvenience. Or when you're afraid to make noise, "Lemme hear ya, Sugar~ Don't be shy~"
Darling is one that's more common to hear him throw out at random. However, it does have a specific use: scaring off other people. When someone is getting a little too friendly, he'll watch for a while until he can't bear it anymore and he has to intervene. He'll wrap his arms around you from behind, press a kiss to your temple, and ask "How're you feelin' Darlin'?" With a sharp glare at the offender
Doll is one that he likes to use to get you to squirm, almost always accompanied by a handsome grin. He uses it more to placate you when you're upset at him in a playful way. Like when his fangirls get a little too excited and upset you, he'll take your face in his hands and hum out, "Y'know they're not even half of what you're worth to me, doll. Stop your worrying."
Pumpkin I hadn't considered, but I think he uses it in private when it's just the two of you. It's a soft kind of thing he uses when you're really warming his heart. Curled up into his side half asleep, you'll hear him whisper it into the crown of your head, "I love you, Pumpkin."
#x reader#zzz x reader#zenless zone zero x reader#zzz#zenless zone zero#lighter zenless zone zero#bunni babbles 🍓#zenless zone zero lighter#lighter#zzz lighter#zzz lighter x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#zzz lighter lorenz#lighter lorenz#zzz lighter lorenz x reader#lighter x reader#lighter lorenz x reader#lighter zzz#lighter zzz x reader
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Art Headcanons
warnings: this contains piss, demons, and some cussing. read at your own risk.
a/n: have fun and read these headcanons and a small image about this black and white man!
he’s quite frankly a pervert. a demonic, stinky, pervert. nothing good is coming from him and you know it. he smells like the sewer pennywise lives in. shit, ass, and fungus reeks off of his body. if he lives with you, get ready for this dude to come to YOUR home at 2-5 am. oh…he doesn’t care about the fact you have work tomorrow. you just have to deal with it i suppose. 💉
he does shower…rarely tho. i’m sorry. he does stuff on his own time & own pace. there’s no changing that baby. i mean, you can try, but won’t shit help him. “art…please i’m not trying to be rude but…please shower.” he looks at you and pouts. does he shower…no. the main time he does shower is like in the fucking morning where the suns not even up yet. put your foot down when time get like this. tell him you don’t like it. 🩸
he writes most if not all stuff down. since he’s non verbal, he obviously can’t communicate with words. oh my his hand writing is not the best unless he’s writing his own name. which is weird huh? but he’s weird so i guess it doesn’t matter. it’s like he’s a child in kindergarten doing art. you appreciate it but you secretly know it’s terrible. he knows it’s terrible too. “art, what does this even mean?” he looks at you as if you’re stupid and makes that certain faces that ticks you off. 💉
the only time you can tell if he’s really angry is if he’s not smiling and just stares off. he won’t even look you in the eyes or anything. when you try to get his attention he still doesn’t care and ignores you. “art…hello?? *snap snap* oh my goddddd.” ever since he got his head cut off he’s just been…you don’t know. maybe he’s more conscious or something, you’re not sure. 🩸
when it comes to you he’s never serious, and i means NEVER. it’s always a joke or a prank with you. even if you yell at him, he doesn’t give a shit and will continue his laughter. this one time art came home and decided he wanted to piss on the floor and not the bathroom, you know where the TOILET is?? yeah no, he said fuck that. you were furious like beyond mad. you yelled at him like mad to the point where you slept in a different room. despite his “nonchalant” attitude he actually was kinda sad when you slept in a different space. that’s to bad art. 💉
“art?!?! why would you pee on the god damn floor?!??” you yell at the top of your lungs at the toxic liquid that came from the clown. he looks around and laughs at your actions before walking in the living room. you were so fucking heated. you didn’t even know what else to say/do in the situation. your “lover” art had pissed you off enough that day. you decided to sleep in the guest room in y’all’s shared home, just to clear your head and think about your next move. 🤡
#slashers#slashers x reader#art the clown#slashers x y/n#art the clown x reader#terrifer 3#terrifier x reader#terrifier art the clown#art the clown terrifier#terrifier#terrifier 3#the terrifier
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Small nsfw fic w/ Knuckles mwehehe (reader is female and can be mobian, or human!)
You felt the waves of pleasure roll across your body as your partner lapped at your lower regions, as if he was starving.
"Ahh~! Knuckles slow down-" You firmly gripped his quills, feeling the soft yet rough texture on your fingers.
He paused his actions, looking up at you with concern in his magenta eyes. "My dear, are you in pain?"
"N-no but you're going a bit hard. Try not to use your teeth, silly.." you panted with a hazy smile across your face.
"As you command, my queen." The warrior gave you a nod, then he continued to eat you out. He guided your legs to rest over his shoulders, and he gripped your waist.
Your moans only got louder as you felt your high approaching quickly. This felt way too good. And you couldn't be happier to lose your virginity to your partner.
"Fuck~! I'm close~! More, give me more~!!" You screamed.
Knuckles pulled his muzzle away from your slick folds and licked his lips. "If that's what you truly want, I'll gladly oblige." He smirked a bit.
You helped him align his huge member between your folds, then you looked up at him.
Sensing your hesitation, the Echidna leaned down and put a gentle kiss upon your forehead. "Hush now, my dear. I'll make you feel all the pleasure you desire."
Once you gave him a small nod, he gently pushed himself into you with a low groan, gritting his teeth. You moaned and your eyes rolled back as the feeling of ecstacy grew.
The moment he began thrusting is when you lost it, wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer as you moaned like a whole.
"Ahh..my l-love..your body is a magnificent temple!" Knuckles groaned and held you closely, careful not to crush you with his gloved hands.
"Feels g-good! So g-!" You managed to get a hold of yourself when you heard the low sound of the garage door opening.
Oh God's, it was Tom and Maddie! They must've brought the boys home from dinning out earlier than they said they would!
"Knuckles~! Hurry-" You didn't want to delay your release, and you didn't want the family seeing or hearing this.
With a firm nod, the warrior trusted faster and harder, just bringing you to your climax as the front doors opened.
"AYOOO! WE'RE BACK! AND TAILS AND I BROUGHT LEFTOVERS!" Sonic proudly announced, having a small box in his hands.
Maddie looked around the living room, petting Ozzy once before looking at Tom. "Do you think they're in the basement?"
Tom perked up and looked up the stairs. "I can hear noises. I'll go tell them we've got leftovers."
When Tom opened the door to the bedroom, he looked at Knuckles, then you.
"Ah, Mr. Wachowski! You have returned from your journey so soon?" The Echidna had you snuggled against him with the TV displaying some random nature show.
Thank GOD you both managed to fix the bed sheets so they looked decent enough. Otherwise you'd so be dead-
"Yeah, the boys really wanted to get back home for the baseball game tonight. But we brought leftovers, so I thought you two would be interested!"
You nodded and got up, having your comfy clothes on. But when you tried walking, you fell on your face.
"Oh, y/n! Are you okay?" The police officer helped you onto your feet, then he caught sight of the hickeys on your neck. "...um-"
You blushed and dusted yourself off. "Got into a fight with Ozzy! He bit me a few times! But I'm okay!"
The Echidna nodded to back up your point. "I managed to step in and separate them before it got out on control. I will go join the Fox, Hedgehog, and pretzel woman." He took his leave.
Tom shook his head with a knowing smirk, then handed you a turtleneck sweater. "Hide those marks with this, then come join us, okay?"
You nodded in embarrassment.
But it felt good, so you scored a win!
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"I'm a lot of things, but he's not dying for me!"
Based off that comic where Jason dies for Bruce against an evil robot, but instead Bruce and Jason agree that's not okay
Bruce: We need someone to take the killing blow from the robot. That’s not me. Making that clear: I’m not dying. I’m not that dead inside. We need someone who will die, but who can then be placed in this secret Lazarus Pit and revived. Who could take the blow?
Dick, Tim, and Damian all exchanged looks, their eyes landing on Jason, who was meticulously cleaning his gun chamber.
Jason (continuing to clean, deadpan): You use me as the sacrificial lamb, and I’m taking every single one of you with me.
Bruce (alarmed, eyebrows shooting up): Wait, what? Jason is not going to be the one who takes the death punch! Why would he— Did you think I wanted him to volunteer? Oh my God, you did!
The three men fell silent, surprised at Bruce's explosive reaction. Rising from his seat, Bruce did something unexpected—he hugged Jason tightly.
Bruce (fiercely protective, voice low): He died once; I’m not letting him go through that again. I bet you thought I wanted him to do this to prove I cared about him. How dare you think so little of me?
Dick (hesitant): I mean, we weren’t wording it like that…
Bruce (firmly): Nobody will hurt him like that again! Shame on all of you for even thinking I’d pick him, or that he’d volunteer.
Jason’s eyes shifted, confused briefly. Then, seizing the opportunity, he played up the emotion.
Jason (sniffling, voice trembling): They didn’t even need to say anything… They want me to die again!
Bruce (softening, comforting Jason): It's fine. I will deal with them later, especially Tim and Dick. I can see they wanted you to volunteer as tribute.
Dick (looking down, ashamed): I wasn’t saying it!
Tim (shouting, exasperated): He died already and was tossed into the Lazarus Pit! It makes the most sense!
Damian (dramatic, crossing his arms): You two should be ashamed of trying to throw Jason to his death again.
Tim (snapping back): Traitor!
Stephanie (eavesdropping while mixing her water bottle, interjecting): Oh, for the love of Jehovah, I’ll take the hit! I’ve always wanted to be tossed into the pit—just let me know what time and I—
Before she could finish, Cass tackled Stephanie to the ground.
Cass (with determination): You are not dying either! I refuse.
Stephanie (grinning despite being pinned): I know we talked about dating in two years, but can you not be clingy?
Bruce (frustrated): We’re never going to figure this out. Wait, I have another plan!
Bruce quickly dashed out of the room, only to return moments later, grabbing Jason to escort him out.
Dick (raising his hands in defense): We weren’t going to touch him!
Bruce (pointing an accusatory finger): You were thinking about it!
Dick (slumping in surrender): Damn it! Are we that predictable?
#batman#jason todd#red hood#bruce wayne#batfamily#batfamily shenanigans#batfamily headcanons#batfamily fanfiction#script fic#flash fiction#batfamily fluff#microfiction#batfamily comedy#batfamily funny#dc fanfiction#canon divergence#writer on ao3#batfamily wholesome#no beta we die like jason todd#batfamily feels#batfamily adventures#wayne family adventures#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#stephcass#stephanie brown
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More mileven proof:
-The way Mike looked at El when they were talking in the pizzaa place, just look at them 🥺
-You just avoided my point on why was Mike looking at El's letter like that, I can answer it: he was thinking about El. Finn even confirmed it, that he was thinking: God, she's great
if this is sarcasm i dont know why you are doing this but😭😭😭 you added this really fast since i answered the last ask... anyways
-that look could have easily been platonic and he covers his eyes with the cardboard glasses half the time, showing more he is literally trying to hide himself and once again conform for el. after this he goes serious and it doesn't look he is happy to say what he is about to (el doesn't look so pleased when he goes this tone either... she looks down and her smile goes away). his eyes keep going down which from other signs most likely mean discomfort or nervousness. but slay? the scene right after is fruit on pizza scene, which mike called "blasphemous", hinting more at his internalized homophobia due to the display of most Christianity in the show as being conformity, which the whole show is about going against.
-mike looks at el's letter "like that" because he is concentrated on reading it and he probably is thinking about el BECAUSE HE IS READING HER LETTER?😭😭 i dont know what that proves since yeah when you read a letter from someone you are thinking about them... it's their letter. but there are rainbows on that letter showing more queercoding and there is a one-way sign pointed to a lit up, open closet near mike. i dont know how to explain film symbolism or anything to someone who doesnt understand that you think about someone when you are reading something from them but this shows that there is pretty much "one way" he can be himself by coming out of the closet and not conforming to the homophobic standards from the time.
-and that thing about finn saying "god, she's great" is not a good thing, he says it sarcastically. also right before that the girl being shown the st5 tour says "oh the letter where she's pretending?" and finn says "yeah". if you care so much about actors "confirming" things there you go thats some evidence milkvan is unhealthy since el literally has to pretend around mike because she wants to seem cool since it doesnt seem like you paid that much attention to show and didnt know that.
hope this helps? maybe get some critical thinking? this is just kind of annoying when there are countless videos and other essays disproving everything you are saying but you still are in denial and choose to ask me
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Pairing : Bachira Meguru x Reader
Basics : SFW, aged up readers, reader is a certain someone's sister
Your eyes observe the light bounce off the golden of your champagne as you swirl it in your flute. Well, that's all there was to observe anyways.
You sigh and look around. God. Why did you let your brother drag you here to begin with?
"Careful!" Your head whips towards the source of the warning, an eyebrow raised. "You might step on my heart which just fell for you."
You blink slowly. Did he just.... Oh. Yeah. He really just used that on you. You scoff in amusement.
Then why is it that you are NOT unimpressed?
You scan him up head to toe - blunt bangs, highlights, blazer rolled up and first two buttons unbuttoned.
Quirky yet mature.
Hm. Is that golden retriever energy that you sense?
After your initial silence (in your defence, you didn't expect to be hit with such a cheesy pick up line NOW of all times) you speak up, "Good for you, I'm a very careful person." Your tone was hostile enough to let him know you aren't going to entertain another man just looking for hookups but all your initial suspicions are thrown out of the window when he grins.
Oh.
Adorable.
"Well good for me i found YOU of all beautiful then ~"
Yeah. DEFINITELY golden retriever.
You couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle, cheeks flushing slightly. And if you were looking up, right at him you'd have seen the way his eyes lit up with you smiled.
"Y/N," you look up, "in case you wanted to put a name to this beautiful face."
"Meguru," he offers you his hand with sparkly eyes, "Bachira Meguru."
Despite your scepticism (or tiredness, could be either at this point of this time), you couldn't help but smile at his energy as you shake hands, "It suits you," you take a sip as he takes a seat beside you.
He was about to say something in turn when your brother appears behind you, "Bachira!" You almost roll your eyes, "I thought you'd left," he then looks down at you, "enjoying yourself?" You simply shrug.
Are you?
Isagi sighs internally, "In any case, now that you're both here let me introduce you to each other! Y/N this is Bachira, Bachira this is Y/N, my sister."
a/n : i was just in a mood to write and this has been sitting in my drafts since September so i decided to give it a direction. This is my first time writing him so I honestly dunno what I'm doing. If you have any feedback, please do give me. I'm also very tired of electrochemistry. I'll write a part 2 too maybe, i just haven't seen any fics with Bachira where she's isagi's sister so i thought it'd be a fun dynamic to mess with :]
divider credit - @/cafekitsune
#Blue lock x reader#bachira meguru x reader#isagi yoichi#bachira meguru#bachira x reader#bachira x you#blue lock fluff#blue lock x you#bllk x you#Fic : Bachira Meguru#Masterlist
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“Oh, sweet girl.”
Really strong opening, immediate visual hook, instantly hypnotised, no way this wasn't getting read immediately.
The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers.
Understandable. Same.
“You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.”
It's like inhaling crack, every sentence has me hooked what is going on....
“A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.”
Oh...so you decided to target a whole population unprovoked. Like really clock em 😭
I am really restraining from highlighting every second line. Like the whole hating how you feel every move is calculated paragraph. Let me stay focused and get to my key points hold onnnn
He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could.
Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need.
I NEED HIM SO BAD IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY HAHA ANYMORE
You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him.
I do not like you right now I'm actually so upset (but like the opposite of upset) what am I feeling you need to fix whatever you've caused rn
His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.
There is no one line this whole paragraph, God this whole fucking fic. Idk what to do with myself rn...I'm three reads in and I need another one after. Wait please leave me alone I have to go put on my playlist and ponder for a second..
glory of the snow
note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah
summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader
wc: 3k
“Oh, sweet girl.”
Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.
Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.
The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.
He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”
You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”
“You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”
There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.
Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.
It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.
Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.
“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.
It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.
But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.
You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.
Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”
“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.
He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.
“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.
It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.
“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.
You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.
“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.
What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.
“Embarrassed.”
“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”
The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“How so?”
“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.
A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”
“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”
“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”
“I know,”
“I just thought you wanted to wait.”
“I do.”
“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”
“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”
“Am I missing something?”
You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”
His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.
He doesn’t laugh.
The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”
You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”
“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”
You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.
Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.
All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.
Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”
He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.
“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.
“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”
His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.
You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”
“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.
“Like what?” you ask.
“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”
Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”
He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”
Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.
“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”
The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.
“Yeah, yes.” you waver.
He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“
He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”
You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate.
He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.
Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”
He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.
The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”
You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.
His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.
A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.
He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?”
He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”
His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”
You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.
Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.
The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.
The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.
His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”
It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.
His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.
“You okay?”
You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”
Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.
He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”
Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”
He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”
“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.
“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”
You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.
You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”
Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”
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What’s your biggest system hot take?
Already a tough question. I think...
Biggest hot take about systemhood is that it doesn't make me any different than anyone else. Sure, I've got parts, but so does the singlet down the street, in their own way. Sure, I've got amnesia, but so does my friend with C-PTSD and no parts.
The thing is, my systemhood doesn't make me any different than a singlet, beyond the parts, and even then, that's a moot point. It's just a symptom of my disorder. Singlets aren't some completely abstract, totally different, "could never understand me if they wanted to" beast.
I feel like a lot of system communities have an aversion to singlets, because "they can never understand what I experience." But genuinely, does that matter? And furthermore, yes the fuck they do oh my god.
My spouse has given me so much in terms of DID analogies and ways to conceptualize my system, and they are a singlet. They've given me more insight into trauma and healing than a lot of the people online who I know have DID. Ffs, I dated someone with DID, and their system presentation was so vastly different from my own that I relate more strongly to my partner's sense of self than theirs.
I think more system spaces need to realize that... whatever labels we use, whoever we are, whatever disorders we are, we're still all people on this bitch of an earth. Endogenic, traumagenic, any origin whatsoever, no origins, singlets, systems -- I do not care at all.
We're all just people, and that means, we have similarities at the end of the day. I'd love to see others thoughts on this; what, really, makes us so vitally different? What, really, separates us?
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Because of those damn storyboards, I am completely destroyed and I need to rant.
I thank God that this was not the final scene they went with because if I had to see that animated I genuinely might have just passed away because I swear this version is so much more painful than the one we got in the movie.
I mean, first of all, I love that the High Guard actually had a bigger role here in which they actually fought Sentinel with D-16. Also the fact that they had a bigger impact on like influencing D-16? With Starscream literally telling him to go ahead and kill Sentinel? Also D-16 (during his talk with Pax) looking between the High Guard and Elita and Bee as though he was deciding which side to pick? Just ughhh
Also makes me happy because TFOne Starscream as a mentor figure (I mean, not exactly the good kind lmao) for D-16/Megatron is just an idea I really love
Second, the fact that D-16 had a dream? That they actually gave him like a dream/want outside Pax? Cause like the whole movie he was kinda like Pax's ride or die friend and I always found it weird that he was just so willing to go along with whatever Pax wanted. The fact that the storyboard addresses he had his own aspirations and that Pax realizes this (which def fuels the pain of him thinking he was partially to blame for D-16's crash out).
Also the fact that D-16 realizes he doesn't even know what he wants now?
Lastly, the change of him deliberately shooting Pax? Like oh my god. Cause in the movie it was an accident, but here he made the deliberate choice to do so. And the best part about it, in my opinion, is that he doesn't appear to be full of rage about it? Cause when he dropped Pax in the movie, he was really pissed. Here it looks like he was just resigned/tired about it. He just wanted Sentinel dead, and at this point didn't care anymore.
But yeah, like two things I got out of this (and I'm sorry it's all about D-16/Megatron, can you tell who's my favorite at this point lmao?) is the fact that:
(1) Megatron just acknowledging that he was so much happier when he was living in ignorance? I talked about it before with a friend how it's so painful seeing D-16's descent especially when he was blissfully happy as a miner beforehand. The idea of just living a happy life in ignorance and the fact that you can't ever return to that once your eyes have been opened to the truth. So like, do you purposely choose a life of ignorance just to be happy or do you willingly let yourself see how bad the world is because you know you can't remain blind forever?
(2) Honestly, I'm also glad they didn't go with this scene as somebody who was formally introduced to transformers through TFOne. Cause while I didn't know much about Transformers before this movie, I already knew Megatron and Optimus Prime. Like Megatron is the bad guy, OP is the good guy and all that.
The Megatron we got in the movie, I have no doubt in my mind that he would become the infamous bad guy that I know from Transformers. Cause that one had so much rage.
The Megatron from the storyboards, on the other hand, is giving exhaustion. This man is done. Like he even says he doesn't exactly want to lead, he doesn't even know what he wants. Obviously, this would probably change once Pax came back as OP, but like from this scene I honestly have a hard time thinking this Megatron would become the bad guy. This Megatron is giving "I'm going to go on a self-discovery journey after this" or "I'm going to just die after this" energy.
But yeah all this to say, now that I know that canonically D-16 had a dream about going off-world, all my fanfics will now include that.
AKA, I'm going to punt him into space.
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彡Allies (or Roommates 😉)彡
Synopsis; Basically, reader with Deadpool's personality
Warnings; Deadpool's personality.
“Can you stop bouncing around for one damn second?” Logan growled, his claws halfway extended as he glared at you.
You peeked out from behind a tree, grinning like you’d just found a box of explosives labeled do not touch. “Stop bouncing? Bouncing on what exactly, honey badger? You naughty bear! But anyways, bouncing is literally my thing. Well, that and making grown men cry. Speaking of which, do you need a tissue for all that gruff man pain you’re radiating?”
Logan ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. “I should’ve left you back at the mansion.”
“You say that every time, and yet, here we are. Together. Like peanut butter and jelly. Or whiskey and bad decisions. Or—you’re gonna love this one—claws and quips.” You spread your arms dramatically. “See? Perfect pair.”
Logan glared. “I’ll give you ten seconds to start acting serious before I—”
“Snikt me into ribbons? Oh, Logan, you romantic devil.” You clasped your hands over your chest, batting your eyelashes. “You’re always threatening me. It’s like foreplay.”
He groaned audibly and turned back to the trail, trying to ignore you.
“Aw, don’t walk away, sugar bear!” you called, jogging to catch up. “We’re just getting to the good stuff. I had, like, three more zingers about your height lined up. Oh, wait—four if you count the one about the step stool.”
Logan didn’t even pause. “I’m too old for this.”
“You’re right. You are ancient.” You walked backward in front of him, ticking off points on your fingers. “Wrinkles, grumpy attitude, that permanent smell of cigars and regret—classic ‘dad who went out for milk and never came back’ vibes. Except you came back, and now we’re stuck with each other. It’s poetic, really.”
Logan stopped, his claws popping out with a loud snikt.
You held your hands up. “Whoa, whoa. Easy there, Freddy Krueger. I’m on your side, remember? You handle the claws, and I’ll handle the witty one-liners.”
“You mean the non-stop verbal diarrhea?” Logan growled, his claws retracting.
“Potato, po-tah-to,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, you love it. Admit it, Logan—you’d be bored out of your mind without me. Who else is gonna make jokes about your weird fetish for flannel?”
Logan’s lip twitched—just barely—but you caught it.
“Oh my God,” you gasped, pointing at him. “You’re smiling. That’s it. I’ve broken the Wolverine. Next stop: Hallmark movies.”
He turned and started walking, muttering, “I need a drink.”
You zipped in front of him again, walking backward with your hands on your hips. “You’re stuck with me, bub. Just think of me as your wise-cracking, ridiculously attractive conscience. Except I don’t actually care if you do the right thing, as long as we get to blow something up along the way.”
Logan gave you a long, tired look. “You keep this up, and I’m gonna let the bad guys have you.”
“Aw, you say that now, but wait until I save your hairy butt with my ingenious improvisation skills. You’ll be begging to team up with me again,” you teased, leaning in with a wink.
“Not a chance,” he replied, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You love me!” you called after him, skipping to catch up. “Admit it!”
“Shut up,” Logan muttered, though he didn’t sound entirely convincing.
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