#but don't fucking start an argument with me

[rozzingit]

there's a terrible thing about grief where it's like a siren. it's luring you into a bottomless ocean to drown, because drowning is a way of proving your love. because isn't that what the person you lost deserves? weren't they so important and so loved that you should feel the worst of it fresh every single day for the rest of your life? aren't you failing them if it eventually starts to hurt less?

sometimes i think back to the weeks of watching my family fall apart, and what i remember was how powerful and overwhelming everything was. everything hurt so much. everyone around me was hurting so much. i heard people making sounds i'd only ever read about. wailing. keening. i'll never forget my mom sitting on the porch with my brother's shoes in a plastic bag the police had returned to us. hugging that bag to her chest and screaming. i'll never forget how big everything felt.

because the hugeness of grief is paying respect to the person we lost. we are meant to hurt, because that is how we know we loved.

but we aren't meant to live in that place forever. we can't. humans live in the cycle of birth and death, and we are meant to recover. it is not an insult to those we've lost. it is not a failing.

it's healing. it's scabbing over. it's scarring.

memory is fickle. human memory is notoriously inconsistent and unreliable. memory is not a sign of morality. humans forget details because we're human.

but we don't forget love.

i am thirteen years out from my brother's death and here's what i remember:

i remember the way his voice resonated in his chest. he had the deepest voice in the family.

i remember that he always returned my calls, even when he was avoiding other people.

i remember sleeping on his couch after we played rock band and watched the transformers movie.

i remember us sitting upstairs while other people in the family were hashing out an argument downstairs and i read one of his comic issues out loud and how much he laughed at it.

i remember how goddamn funny he was.

i remember spending the day with him and my boyfriend at an amusement park and riding roller coasters all day.

i remember how fucking brilliant he was.

i remember worrying, worrying, worrying so much for him.

you won't forget the important things. i promise. you won't forget the love.

grief is so crazy like what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. does she know i loved her. i miss her so much. i catch myself doing things she used to do. i wish i could call her. i miss her so much. i do a crossword puzzle. i cry while washing the dishes. does she know i loved her? my heart feels like a hummingbird. i miss her so much. what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. what if i forget.

[greatmothsukk]

I have not been a very happy girl. The last half yeah has just kept feeling worse and worse. I need it to be better. I need to be happy. For those who wanna hear ill talk some below. Otherwise enjoy this chelsey with her little otter

Last summer was the best part of my life. Constant fishing. Dating a woman I was head over heels for. Fully expecting Trump to lose the election. Every thing was going okay. Then all that went away. Even fishing hasn't picked up much. I've been in such a muck this whole time. Politics went from suspense to dread in a instant and now constant fear and paranoia. I try to escape it I fucking can't. I can't just skedaddle over the boarder to somewhere else and leave. And it isn't clearing up anytime soon. Meanwhile the break up was amicable with no hard feelings but Still hit me so hard after imagining always having her by my side. And recently learned she has a gf now. Im happy for her but after spending months wishing and wishing to finally hear her call me her girlfriend and for that day to never come, it did sting my heart a little hearing her call someone Else that title i coveted so dearly. I know many more wonderful people but she was only the 2nd ive ever found so close to me I could really see her. Also the heartbreak made me shy away from other friends I have a crush on cause those feelings reminded me of her too much and didn't wanna have a negative association with them.

And I've felt like I've done so little and keep watching everyone else's lives move forward. I had been struggling to make art for a while and my attempts to make videos has been stunted cause I hate my voice so bad and voice training keeps failing. And its been hard to decide on stuff to make cause I don't care about what I make art of much. I don't really play video games or watch any shoes and don't wanna. I haven't really wanted to play pokemon in ages. I just like making art of these things but trying to play yugioh is a slog. I wish I had Passion. I wish I had interests that actually drove me and made me excited. And the bigger my platform has become the more isolated ive felt. Even here, once I hit like 1000 followers people started acting weird again like im some upper class whos they're either innoying trying to talk to or Assuming im a snobby cunt. It sucks cause I see smaller artists with lovely little communities I always wished for. But instead i have a web of friends who some of which dislike each other they have one another blocked.

And as for my home life it hasn't been fun. My boyfriend is wonderful but justAs depressed if not worse. Too many arguments. And far too many dead pets. All while the house falls apart more every day and im not allowed to fix it.

My only saving grace recently has been knowing that fishing will pick up soon and that I have been able to keep up with the hoenn dex. It helps me prove that I can accomplish something big. And I can stick to something. Its why im more and more confident that ill be able to keep up with having patreon exclusive pieces when that starts. It makes sure this winter wasn't a total waste. It makes sure I live through it all.

If you read all this thank you. Im sorry if my posts have made you fear at all recently for me. Im trying to stop being a loser. I wanna be good. I wanna be happy.

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

ALL I EVER DO IS BURN UP FOR YOU

LOKI LAUFEYSON X F!READER

A mishap on a mission, rivals that don't hate each other as much as they pretend to, and a well meaning visit to the god of mischief's door that brings about something you never expected. [18+. Sex pollen/aphrodisiac fic. 6.2K. Re-uploaded from my old blog.]

It starts with an argument. 

With you and him hissing insults and bickering like children over who's more suited for such a high stakes mission. With your hands itching to bury deep into ink spilled curls, if only to yank his face back from where it's obnoxiously tilted close to yours and watch those mocking, glacial eyes widen in shock. 

You had put the work in, assembled all the information and hunted relentlessly for the location of the weapons lab only for him to sweep in at the last moment and use mortality against you. It's an excuse that strikes a dangerous match in your blood, heats your skin to an unhealthy temperature whilst your eyes narrow to vicious slits.

"You mortals are frail and weak, too easily breakable. I'm obviously a much better choice, what could their feeble minds possibly create that will harm a god." 

It makes you nearly scream that the others vote in his favour. Rage, ugly and knotted, sticking in your chest at the insinuation you should be seen as fragile when you've fought for years among advanced tech suits, super soldiers, master assassins and an indefinitely more likeable god.

You're not proud of the way it burns at you, that it plucks at some pitiful insecure string you've tried to bury by pushing yourself harder, always harder. 

He's made you feel like you're not good enough to be here despite all you've done and it gathers petty venom on your tongue faster than you can blink. 

"Don't come crying to me when you fuck up, I'll be here waiting to laugh in your face when the shit they're packing knocks you of your pedestal."

The words are sharp and scathing, spat over your shoulder before you're storming out and leaving everyone to stare after you. 

You miss the arrogant smirk falter on his lips the moment you're gone. 

** 

Guilt comes to you swiftly. 

You didn't really mean what you said, you hope he succeeds, people's lives count on it and deep down you even hope that he's right and in no real danger. 

It's not like you to lose your temper and be so petulant. It really isn't. 

It's just Loki. 

He's rubbed you the wrong way from the moment you met. His arrogance, his patronising drawl and insatiable need to get under your skin, bringing something immature and half feral out of you without fail. 

Before him you didn't know what it was like to hate someone, to have someone manipulate every nerve you have with lithe fingers until there's flames in your blood and violence in your eyes. 

It irritates you more that he's so fucking pretty, that his body looks like it's been carved from marble in an artist's quest for divine perfection, and that you'd been attracted to him almost immediately until he'd opened that poisoned mouth of his. 

And unfortunately there's still moments where it snags at you like hooks in your skin, where it feels like you could give in to the temptation to claw and sink your teeth into him as he pounds you so fucking hard you see galaxies. 

You feel it when he's pressed, hard and unforgiving, against the soft give of your body. When you've managed to incense him to the point he's prowled towards you, anger cracking in his eyes like chipped shards of ice, until your back has hit a solid surface for him to crowd you up against. 

It's then that the energy between you snaps raw - hits it's most volatile like it's gathering itself to an explosive peak. You both linger in it, let the moment seep thick in the heat until it edges along the line of pain. 

But then someone always eventually draws away and you wonder if there's a dark pit, a chasm of unknown want, in his stomach like there is in yours whenever you do.  

** 

When Natasha appears at your door the first thing you think is that she's come to talk about before. You know she sees more than most people and she's always sneaking subtle questions into your conversations about the God of mischief. 

The second thing you think is that the universe must fucking hate you and your previous guilt had obviously not been enough to make up for your behaviour. 

"You're needed in the lab, they need what you know on the bio weapons made in that place - Loki's been hit with something." 

"Hit with what?" 

"He said it was some kind of dart." 

"Did he say what the liquid looked like? Was it blue or purple?" 

"Blue I think, why?" 

Shit.

**

"Good news, he's not going to die a horrific, agonising death from his systems shutting down one by one." 

"And the bad news?" Thor grimaces, his brow heavy with concern and thick arms folded over his chest as he peers at you.

"He could possibly die of… something else." You wince, feeling the awkwardness of embarrassment flooding your tongue. "The thing he's been injected with is an aphrodisiac, a really fucking strong one, they basically manipulated it to cause as much pain and discomfort as they could to make victims more pliant to what they wanted." 

Thor stares at you for a long moment, face blank whilst you watch him working over the information you've given him, then suddenly he blinks, once, twice. 

"You're saying Loki needs to fuck someone or he'll die?" 

"Possibly, I'm not– I'm not one hundred percent sure, okay." You sigh. "That's what happened when someone human was injected, your brother is a god. The effects could be different– milder maybe." 

"So there's a chance he could be fine?"

"Yeah but I'm not a scientist or a doctor, he should really get… checked...out. Wait– Thor, where the hell is he?" 

You hadn't even had a chance until now to notice the presence of a huffy, irate raven haired god was missing from the situation. 

His brother had practically snatched you up as you'd ran towards the lab, his face panicked as he'd word vomited a thousand and one questions about the drug, its effects and the danger it posed to Loki. 

But as you peer around the suddenly quiet god of thunder now, there is definitely a rather worrying absence - the lab empty besides the doctor. 

"Oh, he's in his room." Thor confesses awkwardly, one of his large hands scratching at the the back of his neck whilst he offers you a sheepish smile. "I tried to bring him here but he was somewhat violently against it, he threatened to stab me again." 

You snort. 

Of course he did, the overgrown fucking child. 

Trust Loki to be injected with a lethal substance and rather than be monitored for potential risks to his health he'd prefer to pout in his room. 

"Thor, someone needs to go there and bring him down - this is serious." 

He grins then, charming and radiant, and god help you because you know it's coming, both of you fully aware of the soft spot you have for your blonde Asgardian friend and the fact you can't say no when he asks you for something so politely. 

"I think my presence will do nothing more than irritate him further." He says, soft ocean blue eyes pleading at you. "Maybe you can go and try and lure him out? He's always more easily persuaded when it comes to you." 

Highly fucking doubt it, you want to scoff at him. If anything the mere sight of you is enough to set Loki off on a tangent. 

But he's staring at you all hopeful and sweet and there's nothing you can do but curse these two gods that have clearly been sent to be twin pains in your life. 

"Fine." You grit instead. 

**

You're not sure how long you pace outside the door before he calls to you. 

Long enough that he berates you for trying to wear a hole through the floor, his voice dripping in amusement and a tinge of something rough that your mind doesn't register until it's too late. 

He's the epitome of composure when you slip inside his room, causing you to frown as you narrow your eyes and scan the length of his body. 

He's still in full leathers, his legs stretched across his bed and ankles locked whilst he leans back regally against the headboard. 

There's something you can't put your finger on though, something not right about how he looks, not even a hair out of place or a scratch on his leathers to say he'd just returned from a mission. 

It's almost too perfect. 

"Come to laugh in my face, have you darling?" He drawls, smirking when your eyes snap to his face. "It's a shame then I must tell you I'm perfectly fine." 

"They told me you'd been injected with something." You say quietly, gaze still searching for something out of place whilst you edge closer. 

"Ah and you thought you'd come and witness my suffering did you? Thought you'd see a god brought to his knees by some mortal drug? Apologies for the disappointment." 

You shake your head and stare at him in disbelief. "Loki no." You argue softly. "I came to bring you to the lab, the drug you've been injected with could seriously harm you, you need to be tested and kept under observation." 

He scoffs, a petulant thing as he rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. "I take it my brother sent you in hopes a pretty face would sway me. I will tell you like I told him, I am fine, I have no need of your doctors." 

His voice tries for nonchalance, arrogance even, but there's an underlying coldness you detect that seems unwarranted and leaves you feeling frustrated. 

"Why are you being so unreasonably stubborn." You grit, your hands curling to fists on top of your hips whilst you stride towards the bed and glower down at him. "We're only trying to help you, how about you try being grateful."

"Why are you being so irritatingly stupid." He spits back. Long legs swing gracefully off the bed and land either side of yours, the blue of his eyes pulsing dark as his lips pull back and bare teeth. "I do not need your help, I do not need some silly little midgardian doctors poking and prodding at me whilst I'm expected to just lie there vulnerable." 

Oh. 

Oh fuck, you have been stupid. 

Shortly after the arrival of his brother, Thor had filled you all in on some Loki's history. Told you quietly, guiltily, that whilst he wasn't completely innocent of the deeds he'd committed, they hadn't been entirely his doing either. 

It had been enough to make you shudder, for sympathy to bloom in your heart despite everything, at the thought of the kind of torture that would have to be inflicted upon a god to make him crumble to another's will. 

Of course he would be wary of someone wanting to draw bloods and hook him to machines and do any other tests they had in mind. Of course it would bring back terrible memories for him. You feel wretched for not understanding sooner, your eyes softening and the frustration bleeding from your body quicker than it had arrived. 

"No one is going to hurt you Loki." You murmur gently, letting his gaze narrow to suspicious slits as he searches your words and face for the barest hint of a lie. "We just want to make sure you're okay, that's all, I promise." 

His eyes widen for a moment, expression faltering to something raw and unguarded whilst he stares up at you and your fingers twitch with urge to run themselves along his jaw, over his cheek and through the soft looking curls of his hair in some surprising need to offer comfort. 

But then he shutters. His expression turns mischievous and haughty and you can practically sense the sarcastic quip of his tongue before he's even opening his mouth. 

"Worried about me, are you darling?" He arches a dark brow, lips quirking into a smug grin. "I must confess I like seeing you all bothered about me like this." 

You go to tell him to fuck off, go to spin on your heel and march down to the lab and declare that he's absolutely fine, just peachy, his usual rage inducing self. 

But then your eyes flick up on a whim and see the sweat beading along his hairline, dampening the finer hairs and slicking them to his skin. 

That isn't right.

You've seen this man fight, witnessed him slice through countless enemies without so much as a stilted huff of breath let alone physically breaking a sweat. It's something he practically prides himself on, ridiculing you for looking like a dishevelled mess whenever you emerge from battle after him. 

The next move you make is on reflex, a common habit that you resort to without thought. 

You lift the palm of your hand to his forehead to check his temperature, your skin already grazing his before you register his panicked ‘stop–don't!’ and your mind is only capable of offering one thought before the world is suddenly swept out from beneath your feet. 

The typically cold skinned god is blisteringly hot.

Loki snarls the second your hand makes full contact and there's a sudden pulse of energy that ripples through the air, stealing your breath and tingling along your skin. You don't realise what it is until he's grabbed you and caged you beneath him. 

Magic. More specifically, an illusion. 

He's definitely not fine. 

He's panting and shaking, his arms trembling whilst he hovers over you, face shiny with sweat and cheeks flushed fever pink. When he peers down at you, you inhale sharply, the blue of his eyes has all but gone - swallowed whole by the hungry expanse of his pupils.

"Loki." You whisper and a violent shudder racks his already taut body, the movement dragging your eyes lower before they snap back to his face as you let out a startled squeak. 

His illusion had hid more than you'd been able to realise before he'd tossed you on the bed and now the image of him half naked, in nothing but unlaced leather pants that are doing a poor job of concealing the large outline of his cock, is burned into your brain - even as you close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart. 

Your squeak seems to snap him out of the lustful haze he's in however, a shocked slash of clarity in his eyes when yours flicker back open and pain streaking across his face like it hurts him to drag himself from your body when he pushes away and rocks back on his heels. 

"I'm sorry– fuck– I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." He gasps and he looks so genuinely distraught that you almost reach for him again, only snatching your hand back when his eyes dart to it's approach and he flinches. 

"It's alright Loki, I'm okay." You soothe, concerned. "I want to help you if you'll let me, just tell me how." 

He laughs then, something croaked and hollow, and removes the heels of his palms from his eyes to stare you down in a way that is mildly flustering. 

"You shouldn't ask me that." He husks. "The things I want - if you knew - you wouldn't ask me that." 

Well fuck. You hadn't meant it like that, you'd been thinking along the lines of taking him for medical help or running to get his brother.

But now-  

There's something about the way he says it, the way he looks saying it, the heat that slips back into his eyes as he mentions wanting, that makes you very much need to know. 

It makes your stomach twist in an intense way, a wicked pang of heat spearing through your belly, the beginnings of a fierce craving, and the words are out of your mouth before you can shove your hand against your lips to stop them. 

"Tell me what you want, I’ll do it." 

He glares at you then, twin shocks of piercing blue glowing from beneath the sweat-damp of his curling hair, nostrils flaring as if you're truly testing the limits of his patience. His head has dipped low, long fingers twisting themselves in the strewn bed sheets in an effort to ground himself as another cruel tremor sweeps through him.  

"What I want." He seethes after it recedes, tossing his head back to pin you with a furious look. "I will not take from you, not like this." 

"Why not?" You push yourself up, confused, and he hastily shifts back, keeping a safe distance between you whilst anger and frustration crawls across his face.

"Because when I take you I want it to be because you want it." He snarls. "Not because of some warped sense of duty or self sacrifice that you and the rest of your idiotic team consider heroic." 

It's endearing, if not more than a little insulting. 

You're heart beats a little faster at the fact he's thought about fucking you, fluttering wildly behind your ribs because he seems to want you just as much as you want him. 

But the insinuation you'd only be with him because it's your job to save people brings a type of rage thrumming through your blood that only Loki has ever been capable of summoning. 

"You think I'd fuck you just because it might save your life? That I'd offer myself to you so intimately just so I could get for a fucking pat on the back for helping you?" You spit, offended. "I thought gods were supposed to be smart, or is it just you that is this extraordinarily stupid." 

The situation feels familiar now, the two of you forgetting everything to return to spewing insults and barbs at each other because neither of you know how to deal with the sticky truth, the undeniable hope that the other one might feel the same. 

And for a moment it works. 

It distracts Loki from his pain, from his reluctance to be close to you, touching you, and in one swift move, he lunges. Knocks you back against the mattress and buries you beneath the weight of his powerful body.

"Careful with that mouth, darling." He taunts, dragging his nose across the curve of your cheek before savage eyes lock on yours. "Or I might be tempted to find something other than your poisonous words to fill it. 

You don't rise to his baiting like you typically would, don't hiss and claw at him like a scorned cat because he's too close and his touch is an wholly unwanted offence on your skin.

Instead you do something infinitely worse.

You shock him. 

You say his name, soft as silk, legs parting to make room for him to sink against you and his eyes blow wide - stunned like he can't quite believe you're real and inviting him to cover you entirely, to wrap himself around you like ivy, without an ounce of disgust. 

"That's what I want."

**

He groans ragged like you've wounded him, like you've shoved your hand through his chest and yanked at something vital. 

His hips lurch up subconsciously against yours and oh, it's enough to make your mouth run dry. The quick glimpse of him you'd had is nothing compared to the feel of him pushing against you. 

It makes the tension bloat, electricity crackling upon your skin and you don't know how he isn't half mad with the drug when you feel like you could combust just from this alone. 

He makes a rough, desperate sound in the back of his throat when you wrap your legs around him, eyes burning pitch black and starved as he trails his nose along the side of your face and growls.

"Darling–perfect little thing– tell me to stop. I can't– tell me this isn't what you really want." 

You remove your hands from their bone knuckled grip on his arms, cradling the sharp lines of his jaw and pulling him down to where his lips just ghost over your own.

"I want you, Loki." You murmur. "Let me make it better, let me give you what you need." 

He snaps then, lunges forward and claims your mouth in a punishing kiss, drinking you in so deep that you can barely breathe but you'll gladly suffocate before you even think of asking him to ease up. 

You've never been kissed like this before, with such brutal demand and unyielding need that you could split apart at the seams from the raw heat of it all. 

You tangle your hands something fierce into the silken depths of his hair, give a sharp tug when he scores the pillow of your lip with his teeth before drawing the tender flesh into his mouth like he wants nothing more than to mark you everywhere and with every part of him. 

The pull of his hair draws an inhuman snarl from his chest and his hands turn to steel upon your thighs, fingers sinking in deep and wrenching your legs apart so his hips can slam against your cunt. 

"Loki." You gasp, his name turning to a choked moan on your tongue as he licks and bites at your throat, teeth bared against the flushed skin in a terribly smug grin that you cannot bring yourself to huff about.

"That's it pet - say my name - let me hear how good I make you feel." He purrs. 

You push at him then, push for control and to take advantage of his distraction so you can flip him on his back and fuck, he looks almost criminally good beneath you. Eyes startled, his lips parted in shock before they spread into a sharp, feral grin. 

It's impossible to resist falling back into him, sweeping your tongue into his mouth when he catches you against his chest and swallowing the moans that pour from his lips to yours whilst you circle your hips relentlessly over the thick of him. 

He likes constantly being touched, you've realised, craves it, yields to it, a soft note of disappointment always slipping through his gritted teeth when you remove any part of yourself. 

So you touch him everywhere.

Your hips remain fused to his and your hands never cease roaming, scratching and tracing every ridge and dip of his body whilst you kiss, nip and lick at him until he's a whimpering mess beneath you. 

You slip down the length of his body when it seems like he'll fracture if you take your time with him any longer, gentle hands peeling the leather of his trousers back and down, releasing his cock and wrapping your fingers around the thick weight.

He hisses at the contact, body going rigid and jackknifing from the bed as your thumb grazes up over the leaking head and you begin to stroke him. He croaks out your name like it's a plea to the heavens, his breath falling to ragged pants when you drag your tongue across the slit of his cock before sinking your mouth down onto his length.

"Fuck." He snarls. 

You waste no time teasing him, swallowing him deep into your throat and sucking hard, tongue sliding over the thick vein running underneath as he throbs and his hips stammer against your face. 

There's words, curses you think, in a language you don't understand falling rapidly from his lips and when your eyes flick up to him his are screwed shut, his head thrown back against the pillows, neck beautifully bared and his fingers wound so tight in the bedsheets it's only a matter of time before you hear them shred. 

His eyes snap open to stare at you when you hum in approval around him, his lips parting and a hand shooting out to tangle in your hair. He looks wrecked and it does something indescribable to your chest, your pride, when he chokes. 

"Please." 

You hum around him again and he loses his composure entirely, fisting your hair tight and rocking his hips hard and fast into the welcoming heat of your mouth. You gag slightly at the assault on your throat, thighs clenching as he hisses through his teeth at the feel of it.

You were dripping just watching him like this, every nerve alight and desperate for his touch, thighs shifting again for some kind of friction and this time, Loki notices. 

"You like this don't you, pet?" He grunts. "Fuck, I can smell you - needy little thing - let me help." 

From the corner of your eye you catch a faint glow of green and then you jolt. Lashes fluttering as you moan, helplessly overwhelmed, around his cock.

There's a pressure, some kind of energy, swirling at your cunt, the feeling of tight circles being rapidly drawn over your swollen clit driving you mad, as if he's actually dipped his own fingers inside your pants and was skillfully touching you to ruin. 

It's so much. His cock driving into your mouth whilst his magic thrums relentlessly against you. Your eyes roll back when he slows this thrusts, matching his pace to that of the phantom fingers plunging inside your walls. 

"That's it, darling." He praises breathlessly when you whine around him, eyes never leaving your face. "Want to feel you cum just like this. Taking both my cock and my seidr so well, fucking filthy little thing." 

His words strike a match that ignites something cataclysmic in your gut and you're done for. Your orgasm is cresting without hesitance, barreling towards you unapologetically fast until the muscles of your belly clench tight, the intensity making your head spin until your shuddering and moaning around his cock.

It tears a sound you've never heard in your life from Loki, something raw and wounded and so utterly blissed out shoves it's way out of his throat and then his fingers are curling almost painfully tight, yanking you down to the base of his cock as he pulses and spills hot on your tongue. 

You swallow him down the best you can before his hands are clawing at your arms, hauling you up to his chest so he can bring his frenzied mouth to yours whilst he trembles. 

"More." He bites out. 

**

Pleasure makes him burn possessive. 

It makes him roll you over and crush you with him, cage you with his body as his teeth carve marks into your skin and usually talented hands rip clumsily at your pants.  

You choke on a half shriek, half moan as he stuffs you full of his fingers - spears you open and strokes you to madness, his voice a dark, lustful whisper snaking in your ear. 

"So fucking tight, darling girl - bet that sweet little cunt looks so pretty stretched out on my fingers - be a good girl and cum for me again - cum for me and I'll give you my cock." 

God yes, you need it. You'll go fucking insane if you don't.

You think he will break you just like this, that he’ll pull another lightening sharp orgasm from you with his fingers alone, but then he's suddenly drawing them from your slick warmth. Ignoring your frustrated whine to shred the clothes from your body as if they are nothing more than paper and pressing the broad width of his shoulders between your thighs.

He shoves his face into your cunt before you can fully recover from what the sight of him between your legs does to your ego, drives his tongue through the evidence of your previous release and swallows it down with a gut wrenching moan of satisfaction. 

It is both worshipful and humbling.

He lays himself at your mercy like you are divine only to remind you that he can have you pleading and praying with a mere flick of his tongue. His fingers curling back into you whilst he seals his lips around your throbbing clit and sucks, making you buck wildly into his grinning mouth as you cry out and rake your nails across his scalp in a way that has him shuddering. 

It's rabid and feral the way he eats at you, tongue swirling wet and messy over your clit and his fingers twisting to reach a spot that has your body caving in on itself.

He thrusts knuckle deep until you're wailing. Hiccuping his name as the orgasm builds in your belly with terrifying velocity and then he's nipping at you just a little bit sharply with his teeth, offering that hint of pain that makes the pleasure burn darker, wilder, than it ever has before. 

You arch from the bed with a breathless, wounded sound, unable to scream, unravelling magnificently as he groans and licks you through your orgasm like a man that has known nothing but starvation his entire life. 

And when it has all plateaued there is nothing left but an unrepentant desire to have him entirely when he slithers back up your body, sharp features endearingly pleased and his pretty mouth still shining with your release as he pushes you back into the bed and slides his cock teasingly against your wet cunt. 

You go boneless. Pliant in a way that feels like exquisite submission, that threatens to drive Loki wild.  

Your legs part wide for him, pussy fluttering, still pulsing with aftershocks whilst he catches at your entrance and then he's pushing inside you, a guttural moan bubbling past his throat, and the blunt stretch is so fucking good that you can't breathe. So right that your mind reels with it.

He drops to kiss you as you struggle to keep your sanity, nose nudging softly, adoringly, against your own, and when he pulls back his eyes are striking. Endless pools of crystalised blue blown wide with reverence. With deep seated hunger ready to devour you whole.

You both groan as he presses the final inches inside you. 

Your legs weave around his waist so you can take him deeper and he inhales sharply, yanking himself out of you until only the thick head of his cock remains. You wonder dazedly if maybe he intends it to be a punishment, that maybe his old smugness is more intact than you thought and he intends you to beg for it, but then he's snapping back into you with a rough cant of his hips that almost winds you, splits you open with a deliciousness that has you gasping.

"Oh my god–" You whimper and it's like any semblance of restraint he was still valiantly clinging to evaporates as his entire body trembles. “Loki–you feel so–fuck–”

He buries you beneath him, snares his hand into the locks of your hair and sinks his teeth into your throat whilst he rolls his hips, grinds them in a maddening push and pull, pressing in so fucking close as if he wishes to never leave you at all.

It's like he's lost to the sensation of you, the tight warmth of your cunt and the praise that pours from your lips whilst he chases that frantic need to be sunk deep over and over. 

“I can't–I can't go easy on you–I'm sorry.” There is strain in his voice now, a lovely tortured tone, as if he was losing his head completely. 

You cling to him desperately. Nails scoring crimson lines and small crescen moon marks into the milk pale skin of his shoulders as he fucks you like he wants you to splinter, like he wants you in pieces so he can burrow among your bones and make himself a home inside you. 

He reels back suddenly, bunches his knees beneath your ass and pulls himself upright. You want to protest the loss of him but then he's grabbing your legs, hitching them higher until they're slung over his shoulders and using your thighs as an anchor to ram himself deeper, so he can punch up into the heart of you.

It's almost too much when his fingers slip to where you're joined, when he touches you, quick and unrelenting, until the pleasure is so intense there are tears of bliss gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

It's almost too much when he stares at you like he's completely enamoured and reaches for your face, thumbing away a stray tear before it can slip fully down your cheek with a tenderness that threatens to crack you open. You're whimpering, pleading with him to kiss you, to make you cum, to feel him cum inside you, and the noise he makes in retaliation is low, hungered.

"Pretty little thing, you need to cum? You want me to fill you up?" He rasps - wicked and dripping with a dark shade of longing. He tilts his hips, angles himself so his next thrust plunges into that part of you that makes your cunt spasm and a loud wail tear from your lips. "Fuck - go ahead, let me feel it, let everyone hear you make a mess all over my cock." 

His name claws out of your throat on a broken cry, the sound of it jagged, ruined, as every muscle in your body locks up tight until you're violently trembling, bursting wet around him, and everything becomes a scatter of pure pleasure and dizzying bursts of radiant light. 

It takes only moments before the same sensation hunts him so closely. Your cunt gripping him tighter, milking him, until he's snarling a punched out curse. The rising crescendo of slapping skin suddenly faltering as his deliberate pace becomes a frantic, savage thing. 

"That's it darling - my pretty little goddess - beautiful thing, all mine."  He praises before he chokes, folding himself over you and claiming your lips in a messy kiss. Devouring your mouth as you broke and broke and broke.

He ensures you are shattered entirely and only then does he allow his own devastation. His breath stuttering, voice shredding, body convulsing as he fucks you through it and growls your name, spilling, hot and deep, inside you.

**

It goes on for hours.

Until the desperation has bled from his veins and his skin has cooled to a normal temperature.

It's deep into the night when the two of you finally collapse into the sheets exhausted, the cool press of his body tangled with yours a blissful relief to both your mind and the flushed heat of your own sticky skin. 

Every inch of you is raw - littered in marks from his fingers and teeth, the phantom stretch of him still making you ache.

Loki holds you tight to him, draws you close against the sharp rise and fall of his chest and cradles your head like you're something infinitely precious. 

He doesn't speak though and you have a feeling his mind is struggling to process the sudden leap in the relationship between you, picking it apart and trying to discover what this makes you to him. 

The silence blisters and pricks at you until you can't handle it any longer and you blurt out the first thing that comes to your pleasure-addled brain.

"Well… good to know you're not going to die." 

His chest shakes lightly under your cheek and you realise he's chuckling, a soft, light sound slipping from his lips that you don't think you've ever heard from him. 

"That drug was never going to kill a god." He scoffs, trailing feather light fingertips down your arm. "But I can see how it would be dangerous for mortals, which is precisely why I insisted on taking your place." 

Wait–

What. 

You lurch up and twist in his hold to look at him, his eyes, guarded and hesitant,  as he watches you and attempts to gauge your reaction. 

"You took my place to protect me?" You whisper, inhaling a sharp breath he nods. 

There's something blooming in your chest, something you don't want to look at too closely so soon, something that bloomed also when he called you his. But as soft as his gesture makes you, it also bothers another part of you, the part of you that is an avenger and more than capable of dealing with dangerous situations. 

You tell him as much and he grumbles. 

Something along the lines of. "Do you really expect me to stand by and let something happen to you if I can prevent it? I don't want to see you hurt and mortals are so -" 

He doesn't get to finish before you're planting your hands firm against his cool chest and growling. "If you say fragile or weak, I swear I will ruin this otherwise sweet moment and punch you in that perfect face." 

His eyes narrow, glinting dark and tempting, and his voice drops to a wisp of coiling smoke.

"You can try, darling." 

God, is he really trying to seduce you again. 

"Stop trying to distract me." You swat at him angrily. "Next time just come along and work the mission with me, don't get me taken off. Deal?" 

He watches you for a moment, arches a brow at the way you glare at him before huffing. "I suppose." 

There's barely any time for you to grin smugly at your victory before he's hauling you down and rolling you beneath him, his razor sharp smile gleaming above you as his eyes pitch dark once more. 

"Now, how about we seal our little deal." 

[mistymisfit]

I'm your man

angst, mentions of past abuse, loosely based on the Mitski song by the same name, they're kinda toxic ngl. (2,1k)

You were no strangers to arguments, they tend to happen more often than not when two stubborn people decide to date. Normally, you could work it out. Sometimes, one or both of you needed some time to cool off and let the initial anger wear down so you could approach it without yelling and think more rationally.

Other times, the arguments could end up with laying in bed with your head on his chest, thinking you were glad to have such a hot headed boyfriend. Some nights, you'd sleep on either side of the bed, your backs to the other and facing your respective walls, only to wake up with your limbs tangled together and find out you both reached for the other in your sleep.

This time it had been different, you didn't know why he got so defensive when all you asked was that he was careful that night. And you were no better than him, so when he started to get mad, you got mad too. He doesn't know why he said such hurtful things to you, you don't know why you couldn't be the only one whose feelings got hurt that night.

"Sure, be careful" You said absentmindedly, you always told him to be careful at night, and you didn't think tonight was any different.

"Yeah, when am I not?" He sighed. You didn't like the tone he used, like he was tired of you, as if he didn't want to hear it from you.

"Why the attitude?" You questioned almost immediately, and that's how it started.

Then one thing led to another, and you both pressed the other too hard that night.

"You think I'm an idiot? Think I didn't see you last night with that guy?" He finally cracks after a solid fifteen minutes of yelling that for sure your neighbors were going to complain about.

"Is that what it is?" You're pretty sure he could see the disappointment painted all across your features, "You think I'm cheating?"

"No I-" He sighed "You know what? fuck this, forget it"

It ended with him storming out of the apartment, and you waiting up all night just so you could work it out when he returned home. Hopefully, he had blown off some steam by then. But that never happened, and now you hadn't seen or talked to your boyfriend in two weeks.

At least you hadn't heard from him, but you did read a news article about some drug dealer's warehouse being blown up the same night you got a call from Babs asking if you knew what he was up to, or if you knew he was okay, recognizing that's the type of reckless stunt he'd pull when he's going through something. It was not hard to put two and two together, even if your reply was intentionally vague to help him. You said something along the lines of: "Babs, you know he doesn't tell me that. He wouldn't tell me he is Red Hood if it was up to him." and "We're not broken up if that is what you're asking". You were not so sure of that last one.

You itched to call him or text him all the time. You even got your phone out and the text ready to send before deleting it, remembering he was the one who got offended when a friend walked you home once. Once. At night, after he was the one who asked you a million times to avoid walking home alone that late. If he didn't swallow his pride to talk to you, why should you? Yes, you were offended, but you were also worried. He had never disappeared like this before, he'd always stayed with you no matter how angry he was. You weighed your choices, waiting clueless until he returned or calling someone with the same hobby as his --vigilantism--. The second option would definitely end with Bruce knowing and suspecting Jason was up to no good again, and he'd hate that. You considered calling Roy but then remembered you didn't have his number. So you waited for two long anxiety-ridden weeks, you were sleeping poorly and eating even worse. Even your friends asked if you were okay.

Until one night, he finally enters your apartment through your window. You want to jump and hug him at the sight of him for the first time in what felt like forever, but you don't. Instead, you stay put in your place on the couch. It's late, but he's glad you're awake, so he makes quick work of uncovering his face and dropping his guns on the floor. And in no time, he's kneeling in front of you, looking up with tear-brimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry" He breaks the silence. You shake your head no, holding his face with both of your hands and swiping away his tears with your thumbs.

"No, I'm sorry" You speak faster than you think. All these days, you didn't feel the need to apologize, and now you do. "I swear he's just a friend, he just walked me home 'cause it was late, and I didn't tell you because I thought it didn't matter-"

"No, no, I know that" He sighs, his hands lay over yours in an attempt to feel more of you, or so that you wouldn't stop touching him. "I trust you, baby"

"Then what is it?" You insisted with tears in your eyes too "Just talk to me, Jason, I can't- I can't deal with you disappearing like this. I was worried sick"

You had to pause a second to sniff and wipe your own tears before continuing; "even Babs called me to ask about you and I had to lie"

I was scared, thinking how easy it'd be for you to leave me, how easy it'd be to lose you, he thinks, come on just say it. "I've been stressed, I'm sorry I took it out on you" I'm sorry, I was hurting, and I had to hurt you too, I don't know why I do this, he wants to add.

"Okay," you sniff, nodding and accepting his reasoning even if you don't fully believe it.

You don't have the strength to push him into telling you the truth. It was a hard learned lesson with him, pressuring Jason to open up would only get the opposite effect on him. Another hard learned lesson was that when he wants to reach out, he'll do it, but in the most dramatic way possible. 

"Hit me" He begs

"What? No." You are taken aback with his request.

"Please," He insists. Why he needs violence to repent is beyond you, it's all he's ever known. He craves it as much as he does affection, sometimes even more, which is why you think he argues with you so often. He needs to hear you call him a jerk, an asshole, and every name in the book as much as he needs to hear you call him sweet pet names.  "I deserve it"

"Jay-" Your voice is stuck on your throat. You can't believe what he wanted you to do, to harm him. Your tears start falling again on their own at the thought of how ingrained the association between forgiveness and being hurt is in his mind, how many times he must have suffered as a kid and an adult at the hands of those he loved the most to think like this. You were aware of the deep self-hatred your boyfriend had, but he had never asked you this. "I'd never raise a hand against you"

He looks up at you, stunned and unsure of how to act. That's what a life time of abuse caused him, years and years of being fed crumbs of love and affection that he does not know how to behave around someone like you. Someone who so freely gives him what he's always wanted, unconditional love, to be taken care of as much as he's taking care of the other person.

At first, it was his mostly absent parents, whether it was psychically like his dad, or mentally like his mom. Maybe it was a head pat once from his father, or Catherine telling him "you take care of me so well" or a few praise words every once in a while that made it all worth it. Never mind the neglect he went through, he would grab those crumbs of love and mistake them for grand gestures.

Then he got adopted, and Bruce gave him all he ever wanted. Completely casting aside the fact that he isolated him from kids his age, in favor of not repeating the "mistakes" he had while raising his predecessor. Or that when he felt he was no longer needed, or wanted, he left to look for his biological mother. Even now in his adult years, if he wronged Bruce, he felt a fight would settle it. And he was never above giving Jason what he wanted. Not that he'd ever recognize any of the parental figures on his life were abusive, but it is what he's learned. That if he lets people hurt him, then they won't be mad at him anymore.

Jason's always been hungry for love, but now that he has it, he's choking on it. You've spoon fed him his wildest dreams, and he can't stop trying to push you away. It's even worse because you stay, you may yell and get equally as angry as him, but you stay.  You always wait for him, and he always comes back for you.

"Baby," You cut him off with a kiss before he can insist. His hands hold your face like he's going to lose you, and you'd think this was the last chance he had to kiss you with how intense he gets. "I'm sorry"

"I know you are," You nod, eyes still closed, lips still close to his. "and I've missed you"

"I've missed you too" He kisses your cheek, it feels almost shy, the way he presses his lips so lightly to your skin as if waiting for you to push him away.  

"Why don't you spend the night here?"

Jason takes your offer without much complaint, nodding before his tears get too much to handle. He hides his face on your lap right as he starts sobbing. All you can do is pet his hair and tell him everything is okay until he calms down, or maybe tires himself out. Then you can finally lift his head and lean down to kiss his forehead. His eyes are puffy, and he's about to apologize again when you take his hand and guide him up to take him to your room. You gently and quietly help him rid of his armor and clothes. He does not say a word when you look up at him like he's worth something, as if he's not way past fixing.  Your fingers trace the mark on his neck, and for once, he lets you. No complaints, no wincing. He lets you trace and kiss all the scars, marks, and bruises you want.

But he's afraid, afraid that your soft gaze will disappear once you figure him out, once you stop believing in him. He knows that if he lost your love, dying would be the only thing to bring him comfort, and that he'd deserve it.  For tonight, he settles for following you to bed, basking in the warmth of your embrace. Limbs wrapping around each other to leave as little space separating you as possible. Jason can be selfish every once in a while, maybe he doesn't think he deserves your forgiveness, but he'll accept it anyways.

"I don't know why you keep putting up with me," He sighs into your hair.

"Because I love you," you explain, grabbing his arms so they wrap around you tighter. The hum you get in response is calm, but with your ear pressed against his chest, you can hear his quickened heartbeat. "just don't ever ask me to hit you again"

"Promise," You feel the barely there nod that accompanies his words,"I'll make it up to you, I'll be better"

Now it was your turn to hum and nuzzle your nose to his chest, even planting a little kiss for reassurance when you feel tears falling on your hair. You know this doesn't fix anything, that his promises are probably empty, and he'd still beat himself up over this in the morning. And he'd still feel unworthy until he's finally ready to make some deep changes in how he views himself, but until then, you could only be there for him.

[lara4eclipze]

— 𝓑utterflies

— ( ⏳️ ) you give me butterflies got me falling in the deep end of your disguise sparred with a hundred lies.

meret manon x fem reader, argument, swearing, hugging, established relationship, cheater!manon, swearing, wc [?], tags listed below

you really didn't want to be the type of person who is possessive nor easily jealous, yet nothing can hide manon's recent suspicious actions — it was at first simple things like going out with her friends or calling them frequently — but then this friend seemed to take all of manon's time

then she changed her password, which was not that big of a deal you can handle it, what hurt you the most was her forgetting very important things to you — like when you planned a date and she didn't even text you where she had been you stayed in that restaurant for 2 hours waiting for manon only to find out she was with that friend again

which leads you to now

"are you serious?!, I waited like a stupid bitch at that restaurant all dolled up, just for you to "forget"?! manon what the fuck!" you were seething all the pent up emotions you had hidden in order to just be with manon now exploding out of you

"and? I told you I was with sophia!" manon retorts, pacing back and forth in your apartment, she smelled like sophia like she had for the past 2 months, "yeah like always" you laugh but without any emotion maybe even mocking yourself

"what's that supposed to mean?" manon looks at you, her gaze speaking truth of her rage — "i mean is that- manon what am i to you?, why do i feel like I'm fighting for your attention, I'm the only one making this relationship work manon" you respond tears start to blur your vision as emotions flow out

the older girl's temper suddenly cools down as she sees you cry, and then it all comes crashing down on her, guilt, regret and self-hatred, how did she end up like this? — why was she busy with another woman when you were there all along waiting for her

"babe, don't cry" manon quickly hugs you as you sob, it felt as if she had killed something, that something was the love you two had poured out for eachother

never in a thousand years would have she guessed that she would do this to you, yet she had to tell you, manon thinks about the words that would leave her mouth in the next second before she stammers, "forgive me, my love"

"i-i cheated, my love i am so sorry" manon stutters as the words get stuck in her throat, she felt your sobs get deeper and more hurt

thoughts flood your mind, maybe you weren't enough?, did you ever show less compassion?, where did you lack?

"was i not enough manon?" you finally mutter to her, you felt so stupid, stupid that you knew something was wrong but chose to stay silent, to stay with her, "no, please don't think that way — i was selfish and wanted more when you had given me everything"

"i love you, y/n please don't leave me, ill change i promise please give me a chance" manon begs as words keep spilling from her mouth, you didn't hear her, all you heard was she needed more and you couldn't give it

it felt all too wrong, sophia who you always knew was a friend was sleeping with manon? your girlfriend — all those nights that you'd wait for manon to come home, cook for her hell even clean for her, yet she still cheated?

you felt betrayed and hurt, you walked to the bedroom and started packing a bag, with your clothes and things, "baby don't leave me" manon pleaded, yet you didnt respond maybe if she did this earlier you wouldve huddled her and comforted her but not anymore

"i need to clear my mind manon, please i can't put up with this bullshit" you whisper afraid of what lies ahead between you two

manon craddles her face, afraid of what she might lose, as she sees you walk away from what once was a place of love now just a painful reminder of what they were

what she has ruined all for a little more attention

[sturnioz]

I actually haven't been that active on the fratboy Chris tag in a WHILE. So, imma give my take on what I think had happened in their pasts and what could possibly happen.

We all know Chris can be and is and asshole. He doesn't care for romantics, and it has been proven time and time again. He's cold and closed off, even to his brothers which you would assume he'd let loose a little. He's close to his mother (from the phone call bun overheard) which I'll get back to. But that's kinda it? He doesn't plan on opening up to anyone, so maybe something triggered that and there could be a future stressor to reopen that. Who knows what your series will say.

Now, bun is different. Not in the way of 'opposites attract' but there are key differences that are mentioned. Her shy behaviour for one. She has only been with Chris and had all her firsts with him. She isn't exactly as shy anymore in thay department but either way, she is close to Chris given that he is the only one she's been with. But I also don't immediately take her for an overtly romantic person. I'm sure she dreams of it or imagines situations like that but if she really wanted that then would she stay with Chris? I doubt it. Bun has friends, connections and it's stated that Chris isn't making her stay with him that way sooo...

To their pasts I'd say they are similar with a lot of aspects. A decent childhood with opportunities like a lot of other children, a close network of friends and family to keep them well. However, I'm thinking that Chris had his start to differ maybe around puberty or a little later. A lot of kids start to explore sexually or in relationships and something could have changed with him. A bad relationship made him stiff, not wanting to open up like last time. The fact he is still close with his mother in a way also gives me reason to think his father or other family member was narcissistic or problematic. (Based on my own experiences). Either way, he wasn't always like this, a triggering event or course of events changed his behaviour when he was vulnerable to change.

I'd say that Bun has been consistent a lot of her life. She was always shy in childhood and kept to herself, enjoying quiet more than most. A tight network of friends that she wouldn't dare stretch from unless she was introduced by another friend etc. I wouldn't say she's had any stressor to make her suddenly submit into herself, hence her naïvity around Chris' situations and attitude, brushing it off as 'him'.

I do think Chris will crack at some point. Like mentioned before, a stressor could occur where he lets something slip etc. During the whole formal event, he was upset and beginning to subtly get upset when bun wasn't messaging back. If he was any closer to bun than he was, some shit EASILY could've gone down, paranoia, arguments etc. Bun might find out information she isn't meant to? The phone call with Chris' mother was enough to make her question things for a moment. Let alone anything else of any other level. I don't mean stuff he does eg. Sell drugs - one, he is open about that, and two, he has no reason to lie over it. Yet, knowledge is more powerful in this context.

This is slightly vague over scenarios I see them in, but I'm going a lot based on psychological reasons rather than just imagination, so I'm likely to be wrong. I also haven't read a lot of your recent works due to my inactivity, so this may have been proven wrong in updated posts. However, this is just what I think. I could easily write about if Nick or Matt knows what happened to Chris or even if the same thing happened to them etc. But I'll save that.

Enjoy I guess lmaoo

im sorry i dont have much to say to this without giving my own plot away but i just want you to know that i enjoyed every second reading this beautiful fucking take.. the way you analyse everything is so fucking gorgeous

[aviradasa]

I had the idea to tell the story of how I got into the lost boys Fandom cause it was lowkey hilarious. This is not told very well but hopefully you get a good laugh out of it 🤣

So one night me and my sister/ best friend where very very high and we where sitting in the living room after finding some food to Munch on. While scrolling through movies on her TV. She landed on the lost boys and i took one look at it and was like "bitch what tf is this?" Cause i had seen the movie around a couple times but never looked into it (except for the one time when i was 3 when my sister put it on and i fell asleep within the first couple minutes ), so I had no clue what it was or what it was about.

She was just like "girl trust me it's good as hell" so she put it on while I was sitting there stuffing my face with Buffalo wings.

Well the carousel scene come on and david rat lookin ass popped on screen and it was immediate hatered cause I though he looked like and asshole. (This is the start to my David hater era and then the love hate relationship i still have with this man)

Then the others came on screen and she has a video of me seeing dwayne for the first time and actually fucking screaming "DAMN YOU DIDNT TELL ME THEY WAS FINE" at her.

Yes I want the video but she hasn't sent it to me in all this time 😭

Well during the movie we would pause it to rant or just to make fun of dumb shit they did.

At David's feet pic scene we paused it and laughed for 10 minutes while just insulting tf out of him and dying.

Then when we learned Paul's name my sister was just like "that is unmoanable who's name is fucking paul" so that started a whole inside joke between us and whenever someone does something dumb we go " He's just Paul. What can he do?" Or anything like that which is hilarious.

Every single time markos name was said we would shout "polo" and i was obsessed with his jacket from the start and she was acting like a proud mother the whole time we watched this movie. Also I was living for how sassy this guy was and from that moment I was convinced Marko was just me as a man

We don't speak on dwayne cause when I first saw that man I went on a tangent about him being fine and me being mad at her for not telling me there where fine mf in the movie and she was just instigating the whole thing. And after the only fucking sentence he said then died I was sitting there looking at her like " you are a traitor ass bitch" cause she told me he lived 😒

I was convinced sam was fruity after the first 10 minutes. He lowkey pissed me off by being so nice to Michael but as a younger siblings I sympathized with him on it, plus him trying to snitch to lucy about everything made me so damn mad at first lmfao.

Micheal.. i was so done with him. Meanwhile my sister is sitting there twirling her hair thinkin he fine. HE PISSED ME OFF SO BAD I remember saying he has a very punchable face. She didn't agree.

We got into an argument because I was saying how I wanted to beat his ass, and she was saying he was to pretty for me to beat up. I am still on the beat Micheal ass team BTW. I just don't hate him AS much as I used to 🤣

We both where gay as fuck for star thats that we both are just gay for her.

I was screaming about the plot though and my sister refused to spoil anything. But I figured out max was the head vampire right when he asked Michael for an invitation so she spent the rest of the movie trying to deny i was right. And she failed lol

When Marko got killed i was ready to square up with her cause she was laughing at my sadness when he died.

This also happened when Paul died but we got distracted cause he had a cool ring on or something that we where obsessing over while he drowned in the bathtub i don't remember.

When Dwayne died we woke her mom up and she screamed at us through the floor to shut the fuck up 🤣🤣 we explained the situation to her though and she was just like "oh yeah that sucked." And left us alone lmfao

When David died i laughed like and evil fucking villain the first time in watched it.

I was then slapped in the back of the head (what a bitch) cause my sister liked him.

(Oh when just learned he came back to life in the comics I was pissed for reasons I would have to express in another post lol)

Then during the end scenes I was so happy to be right about max and I rubbed in her face that I guessed all by myself who the head vampire was without her help and she still tries to say she gave me a hint like no tf you didn't girl I got that all by myself.

Anyways the next night i was on tumblr and the rest was history lmfao thanks for reading 🤣

[competitivedust]

Saying you liked The Last Jedi because of Worldbuilding™ as if there was any of that in the movie at all. That's one way to make sure I disregard all your opinions in the future. They had to make a guy taste the salt on Crait so people knew that it wasn't Hoth.

[slavicafire]

it's all just so rotten. it's just so rotten because people just... don't believe that I can be affected by this. because they believe with her I was already ready for this scenario anyway so it shouldn't be such a shock or such a pain, and because I've been through death and I know grief so well so for sure I just know how to handle this and should be expected to get over it stat. even people who are supportive I can fucking see it in their eyes "yeah, yeah, that sucks". sucks doesn't fucking cover it. she's dead you assholes. it doesn't just "suck" it's not just "tough" gods I will lose my mind

[aipurjopa]

my stance on the stupid boundary thing has always been "if you're going to break them, tag your shit properly and don't do it in a place where the cc can see it." like.

[airenyah]

where's that one tumblr post that asks what the thing is that you're "well actually" about bc that post has crossed my dash multiple times and every time i was like "i'm sure there is something for me too, i just have no idea what it could be" bc like. i know now. i know what it is. it's joong and dunk. joong's and dunk's acting skills specifically, actually

[ndostairlyrium]

ah

I love the smell of fics about the mundanification of mafia in the morning <3

[thenixkat]

(Picture in the voice of that one meme with the old man going 'Baby boy' at one pic and 'evil' at the second pic)

[ID: A screenshot of a scene from Castlevania Nocturne featuring the character Edouard in close-up in a night scene with water flying through the air. /End ID]

My guy Edouard is a mulatto from Haiti (oh hey look at that we actually know where he's from and he's not 'ambiguously brown'). Are his eyes blue? Yes, tragically. But it's at least a shade of blue that works ok with with his skin tone. Also peep the nose and lips.

[ID: A screencap from Castlevania Nocturne featuring a close-up of Olrox, a vampire, from the shoulders up nude on a bed. /End ID]

Could I tell what kind of Native Olrox was when I saw him b4 he said anything? No. But I could tell he was Native. But we *do* get to find out where he's from. Does he have pale colored eyes, yes, but again the shades picked work well with his skin tone. Also just lovely nose, lips, cheek bones. Doesn't feel like an ambiguous brown mfer.

[ID: A screenshot from the Dungeon Meshi anime featuring Kabru smiling, winking and giving a thumbs up to the viewer. /End ID]

Go girl give us nothing. Hate that shade of blue, its jarring. Granted given how the mangaka has this man's skin changing colors in the same lighting in the art books like a fucking chameleon in a rave and even making him that weird 'I don't know how to color nonpale people' grey in a few places in the artbooks also just that blue wasn't gonna work anyway.

Also the gross pixie nose. Zero lippage. What fantasy counterpart is this guy from who the fuck knows? Apparently, it wasn't important to make clear or hint at in his design or for him to bring anything that could pin him up directly. Mr. Ambigiously fucking Brown.

Also colorist tropes! Our two plot important brown people gotta have pale colored eyes can't they can't be too ethnic if we have to see them a lot more.

[ID: A crop of a page from the Dungeon Meshi Adventurers Bible showing Kiki and Kaka's heads. There are cut-off words from their page entry on the side and top of the image. /End ID]

Go girl give us nothing but even more! Dark eyes? Good. Everything else just bleh. Nothing. Hell, even the names are as 'no thoughts involved' as the rest.

[cobra-creampuff]

my sister is telling my dad the story of last night and they are hard core both sidesing it. "well, you know, she doesn't take apologies well..." 1. that's her fucking problem not mine. 2. that doesn't have any fucking bearing on the two and a half hours straight of transphobic talk. 3. not taking an apology well is one thing, telling someone they're "lucky" you're not assaulting them when they say they're sorry for being a bit rude is actually a totally different thing LOL!

[anisohtropy]

kaveh’s really pulling the words out of my brain. this wip was supposed to be just quick practice writing kavetham before I start on my howl’s au for them, but it’s not done and it’s like 13.5k? what’s going on? how did I get here? this isn’t even a complicated wip it’s just my take on kaveh’s participation in the championship event 

idk something about depressed blonde man is making my brain go whrrr and kick out bangers like “guilt is as natural to him as breathing” and “the difference between martyrdom and surrender is nothing on the scale of the universe” like who comes up with that? not anyone who isn’t still unstable from finals that’s for sure anyway I’m almost done with it so watch out

[girlcalledwhatsername]

every time the vote blue crowd tries to justify their stance (which why are y'all still harping on that the next election is 4 years away why aren't you doing other things in the meantime like you always say you would) they just talk in circles and make it increasingly more clear that the victims of US imperialism are just Not Lives That Count and Should Be Considered when making political decisions to them