#but sometimes it's best not to fuck with a good thing ;)

[thebibliosphere]

I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.

Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.

Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”

That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.

“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.

I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”

I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.

“Sure?”

“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”

“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”

“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”

So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.

They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,

“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”

“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.

“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.

“Not anymore.”

“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”

I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.

“This is a dream,” he informed me.

“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”

“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”

“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”

“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”

“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”

“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”

“You’re job...”

“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”

And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.

First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”

And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.

Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*

[disgustingtwitches]

@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!

You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.

“Gotta warm you up properly.”

He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 

You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.

“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”

As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 

When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 

Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 

He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.

Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 

“Ye ready?” 

Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.

“Uh-huh.”

You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 

“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 

“No, I want to.” 

Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,

“Ready.”

There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,

“Jesus…fuck…”

He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 

“Johnny.”

“Yeah, LT?”

“Ease up.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 

Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,

“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 

You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 

“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”

Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 

A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,

“Christ, LT.”

“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”

There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 

“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”

He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 

You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 

“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 

You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 

“Uh-huh,”

It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 

Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 

“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.

His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 

“You got one more in you?”

Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 

“Always.”

[wandixx]

It's not part of the beliefs, but it kinda is how it turned out. I'm too young to remember when Poland was a communist country, but my older family members lived through it, and it wasn't a good time. I mean, for a big chunk of time, there were cards to get food. Shelves in shops were empty because production was pre-planned for five years, and it rarely were accurate plans. To get anything when they finally delivered anything to the shop, you had to stand in the line and hope for the best. My aunt learned to cry on demand, so when she, as a little child, was sent to stand in the line, people would let her before them out of pity. Sometimes, there were still people in the line when the shope closed, so they made the list who was were and then came back when it was their time. The only thing you could reliably get was alcohol.

Censorship was rampant. We have whole pun name for movies that were already made and all, but then censors decided something was wrong with it, so it spent years, sometimes decades on the shelf. There were illegal songs and illegal books. Illegal art, illegal words.

Protests were "calmed" with firearms and gases and people died because of excess force used by MO (Police force), ZOMO (MO but with extra gadgets, they got really infamous) and sometimes actual army. And you know who was protesting?

FACTORY WORKERS

Here was quick summary of each big protest that ended up in my textbook becuase it was so relevant with amount of people killed in each and shit but I felt like it was getting too long. If anyone asks, I'll share it. But most important thing is, communism in Poland fell because Factory Workers (it started with Union called Solidarność, from Gdańsk shipyard) had fucking enough of that bullshit. Factory Workers. People that this government was supposed to be for.

And it's not going into bullshit that Red Army did to "freed" nations during WWII, including group raping and robbing everyone of everything, including people going back from Concentration Camps, how people fighting with nazis were then trialed for 'sympathizing/working with nazis' because they were speaking up against the new forced government.

And it's ignoring various human rights violations.

Communism didn't work, just like Capitalism isn't working right now, because believe it or not, I'm not some sort of crazed 'capitalism rules' girlie. But it's still lived national memory that communism is not good. For fucks sake, even conservatives don't call it good time for Poland and you'd think they would considering time periods. Nobody fucking dares to. Communism fails. Capitalism fails too. I'm not an economist or frankly anyone who should be considered any authority on the topic but we either need something totally different or a truly Aristotlean fucking balance.

to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you

[teliphone]

Hi! Can I request pussydrunk Karina overstimulating reader please?

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Overstimulation

-

Pussydrunk Karina would kneel on the ground shyly and beg you to split your legs apart. Her words are quiet, but lance with lust. It’s pretty interesting how she can be so shy yet naughty at the same time. Her cheeks are pink as she stares at you between her eyelashes. Waiting patiently for your approval. You nervously lick your lips and nod your head. When you spread your legs for her, she bites her bottom lips and her eyelids go heavy. 

Pussydrunk Karina would grind her fingers against your inner thighs. Feeling the soft flesh press against her fingertips. She leans her head forward, already drunk in your scent. She then would place her head on your thighs and let her fingers drag along your slit. She’s careful and gentle at first. Sliding her middle finger around your clit to make you become breathless. She wants you to become more wet before she can truly drown in you. Her fingertips start rubbing your clit in a slow circular motion. Your thighs twitch a little, making her smile. 

“So sensitive,” She whispers, more to herself. She likes to analyze and take note of your body. She is sort of a perfectionist. She repeats the motion over and over til she sees you leaking just a little out of your slit. She gets excited and scoops the juice to spread it around your clit. The silkiness makes her fingers rub against your clit more quickly and smoothly. Your cunt starts to glisten as you continue leaking out more. 

She would then replace her finger with her wet warm tongue. The moment she gets a taste of you, she lets out a soft moan. She couldn’t help it. She’s addicted to your pussy. Her eyes would peek up to make sure you are reacting. She adores the way your cheeks turn red, mouth slightly open and chests move up and down. 

Pussydrunk Karina would then slide her tongue down your slit and back up to your clit. She likes to lick and suck your clit hard, making the dirtiest sounds. Your head tilts back and your stomach tenses. You would grip onto the bed sheets or chair to avoid tugging her hair. You didn’t want to hurt her, but she actually sometimes prefers it. So she would try her best to eat you so good that you would end up grabbing her head to thrust yourself into her mouth. 

Pussydrunk Karina gets shy when you praise her with words. You look down at her and brush your fingers into her hair. She looks so lovely while she is kneeling before you. 

“Such a pretty girl,” You moan loudly as you thrust yourself into her. Her body heat raises a few notches. You can visually see her ears and cheeks turning red. She averts her gaze to focus on your core. You find it really cute when she gets all hot and embarrassed. 

“Fuck you’re doing so good,” You shamelessly moan again. Her thighs would squeeze together. She shoves her tongue into your pulsing core, just to satisfy her dirty mind. She drags her wet tongue that’s mixed with your juice and saliva back up to your clit. 

Pussydrunk Karina is so high on your cunt, that she “accidentally” overstimulates you. Her fingers would roughly press against your walls while she continued to lick your clit. She gets carried away, ignoring your cries. She knows you. She knows you enjoy it. You’ve told her before that you like it when she does things that please her. Which is this. It pleases her to see you cumming in her mouth over and over. There is a wet spot forming on her panties, but she is so drunk on you that she doesn’t care that her clit is begging to be touched. She’ll deal with it later. Your hips will jerk around and she has to hold your body down, spreading your thighs even wider. 

“Come for me again,” She begs over and over. Her heavy eyelids look at you. You choke out a moan as you nod your head—anything for her. Sweat is starting to feel sticky on your forehead and neck. You can feel your orgasm building up again. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come into her mouth already. Karina did too. She just keeps going until her knees and jaw become numb and unbearable. 

Pussydrunk Karina would come up from the ground, legs wobbling, as she stables herself with your shoulders. She leans down and kisses you with your juice all over her mouth. You moan weakly against her.

“Thank you beautiful,” You whisper. She pulls away with a shy smile. She sits on your lap and pulls you into a hug, her core grinding slightly against your thighs. Just to stimulate herself. She listens carefully to your breathing. She makes sure you catch your breath before she starts moving her core again. 

[jazeswhbhaven]

A Successful Hunt in Heaven | React | Spoilers | Prologue

LETS GO YA'LL

First, let me say that this is completely different than Levi's Torture story and when I get a chance to read the rest of this???? I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a 10...

Cause let's jump in???

We start with the fact that MC is standing in front of a throne, everything is in white and angels are calling them Gabriel.

I was like???? AYO ARE WE GABRIEL???

It seems, that we are indeed Gabriel....

it's so good to see our angry bae again, even if he's cussin' us out

not that he can help it, we are literally Gabriel right now. but why the fuck are we????

SO it's flashback time and we're in Gehenna after a big battle. Three kings Mammon/Levi/Beel came to help out and the results were victorious.

Mammon is so that guy because if I were watching him lifting buildings with ease all day, I would. Lemonade in hand like those ladies watching the lifeguard at the pool.

So the kings are talking amongst themselves about Satan reacting to Mammon's saying of "how Gehenna is his so ofc he's gonna help" and Beel saying that Satan would headbutt him with his horns if he heard him and it's surprising that he didn't (foreshadowing??)

Mammon just loves to call his boyfriend small huh? Lol

We know Beel, you like to spy on us. Next you're gonna be randomly showing up when we're showering or something and be like HEY JUST CHECKING UP ON YOUUUUU.

My stinka boo. <3

Anyways....

Leviathan, give me one reason why I shouldn't box with you right now. One good reason other than the fact that I can't fight demons 💀

I ain't payin' you nary a cent back.

But yeah everyone starts to depart though, since the job is done and it's time for the devils of Gehenna to relax and chill!

I'm crying because I like how Levi and Beel's dynamic here is still "Ugh my dumbass best friend that annoys me sometimes" because He was getting onto Beel for being careless and making Bael work too much and Beel was like "Awh but you're closer to me :(((((" and Levi is like "Nah you got 6 other kings" skskskkskskksks And then he drags him away here? I love them your honor, their dynamic makes me crack up each time.

BUT now that this is over and done with we're at the PUB GETTIN' DRUNK LETS GET IT

Even Ppyong comments that he hasn't had a drink in a while and Sitri is over here yappin' about tea and how long it takes to brew compared to just pouring alcohol and throwing it in your mouth. Then a funny thing with Leraye happens...

I can hear him in my head and it's hilarious. Because Leraye why you sayin' it like this? lmaoooo

After being chided that he was being too damn loud in his ear and some other interactions from the other nobles, it's then realized that Satan actually hasn't been around in a while. No one has seen him in a couple days and I'm just like....wait ya'll just been doing whatever and not concerned that your King is literally not around for over 48 hours? o k

We then get Belial/Jjyu busting in the pub and saying there's an emergency meeting to talk about Satan's disappearance. Turns out Zagan and Belial noticed that Satan has been gone for a quite a while, Zagan being the first to notice and so he called the meeting. During this time when everyone is thinking of what's happening and what's going on, with MC thinking more about the "how this happened" rather than the "how can we fix this"??? There's a solution right outside the door.....

BUT FIRST

Paimon is so real because if a bead can shut up Jjyu it really does give us a reality check on how small he is lmao

ALSO POINTING WEAPONS AT THE DOOR? ITS ON SIGHT?

Oh.

oh.

That's my cat daddy right there.

I'm so happy we get to have Ronove content ya'll. And so randomly too. I wonder if we will get other Abaddon devils as a cameo in the other cards??? Hopefully? MAYBE?

So the nobles are wondering who called him there, and it turns out Zagan did.

And he was trying to say that from the beginning but since Ppyong wasn't looking at him, he couldn't translate. To which Astaroth is like "Just speak tho." LMAO

Anyways,

It seems the Abaddon devils love the thrill of danger. Dantalian also seems to love that to where he will literally put himself in harms way. But I mean I guess the devils there are just built different as they keep saying anyways.

So in order to save Satan though, someone has to go undercover as an angel. Problem with that is devils are unable to lie so if they were caught they would immediately just give up and admit they were sneaking in. But MC....

LOL this dialogue had me like??? OMG p l s. First...this is actually for once something I'd say, more in a joking sense even though this is clearly a serious moment.

I also love how Sitri was like "okay but the only thing you know how to do is lie, MC" and I was like...thanks Sitri thank you so much for your support you have no idea how much it means to me /s

But he's right, MC doesn't know how to do anything else which at this point damn we still don't know how to fight with magic or something??? Anything??

Thank you for letting us know this information Ronove. You are a treasure.

So, we end up seeing Ronove's power in action btw. How it works is that he says the words, and they work as long as he doesn't swallow.

R o n o v e

I do not need to know how you were eating food with your butt. Thank you sir. (why did I go there? Because it's a joke that's been done already in another media lmao so if you know you know) Honestly though if not his butt then probably made another hole somewhere or he ate through his dick who the fuck knows this is Hell and he's from Abaddon, anything could go.

He's so hot I'm crying. Like...I'm trying to imagine what a wet voice is and it's making me shiver in a bad/good way.

So his power is in action, he says "you will be an angel" and he pretty much spits in in MC's mouth and mixes it up and tells you to swallow. (reference my thirst post with him saying to swallow it)

So, there's no specifics to his powers. It works, but not the in way anyone would expect. This type of theme in most stories always ends up bad in some shape or form when the words are vague or broad. So yeah MC was an angel alright.....

So we were back in Heaven, and now we understand that MC is possessing Gabriel's body. I wonder if he's aware that's happening and he's internally screaming or if he's just kinda unable to do anything about it and is unconscious the entire time?

It's believable surface wise because everyone is falling for it, even Satan who was cursing and spitting on MC/Gabriel to point where they had to gag him.

Ngl, I'd have a hard time being into this "roleplay" too because he legit doesn't know it's MC so he hates them. It's kind of like a revenge mirror thing from Gabe's christmas card (i still have to do a react on that btw)

THIS????? FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gabriel needs to make those faces more.

But the entire time MC was pretending to be Gabriel I was like "GURL FOCUS" because they kept getting distracted by Satan looking fine as fuck in those restraints and that gag in his mouth. Which I mean??? EYAH but we're here to do mission rescue. But now we about to do some

Mission I'm going to fuck Satan as the angel he hates. And I'm so anticipating that Satan is going to react and sort of like it....SO YEAH YEAH YEAH INDIRECT WAY OF CXC

I did not originally ship any of the angels with any of the Kings or Nobles butttttt after I get my hands on the rest of this card story I'll be a believer.

Funny thing though is that I did in fact get the artifact for that discounted 250 pull they give us each time and it clearly is a reference to the key from Hellraiser which is one of my favorite Horror films~

we have such sights to show you

Okay but crossover of Kings as each of the different Cenobites when? Cause I need it.

[1864reruns]

ㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ ace & dog privileges

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤportgas d. ace

tag(s)&warning(s). drabble, fem/afab! reader, established relationship, creep, reader has BOOBS, i'm sorry flat chesters, this ain't for you, crack treated so seriously, this is not nearly as poetic as my other drabbles sorry, pervert! ace

from vyon. nasty dog but he's tamed so it's okay! 🎀 THIS IS SO STUPID I'M SORRY LMFAO

he's so focused on you that it takes him a second— his attention never divided when you're in front of him, or, well divided onto other things. ace was doing his best, listening to you and staring at your chest equally; you know that he's looking, you don't mind really. you think you'd be a little suspicious actually if ace's eyes weren't systematically rising up to look at your eyes and then moving down to linger at the curve of your chest through your tank top.

his eyes move up again after he gets his fix, stupid smile on his face, as you continue on with your story. your eyes moved over to the side, peeking over his shoulder but he doesn't make much of it when your eyes moved back to him. then, for listening to you and being such a good boyfriend, he treats himself to looking back down to stare at your chest.

his face falls when he sees that you've closed your jacket around your torso, his jaw slack open and eyes widened in horror. "babe..." he called out, a small whisper as he reached out over the table like you two were mourning over a friend's death or like you'd just told him you've done something horrible and he needed to show you support.

"what?" your eyebrows furrowed together, a hand moving towards his open palms on the table. your other arm is still pulling your jacket together.

you follow his gaze back down to your chest before the realisation hits you— the idiot was whimpering because he couldn’t get a good look at your boobs of all things. you kick him under the table, aggrieved. "there's some guy behind you that i think has been having a staring contest with my tits."

"who the hell—?" ace's eyebrows creaks, his smile twitching as his hands turned down on the table; he straightened up, slowly turning himself around. he has half the mind not to go over there and fuck up this random guy for commiting two grevious crimes against him. count one, staring at tits that should be for his eyes only; count two, forcing you to hide said beautiful chest from his view?

actually. "i'm going over there."

"ace—"

"i'm not living in a world where you have to cover up your beautiful rack 'cause of some fucking creep." he straightens up, you pull on his arm; ace looked down at you, annoyed, and then he turned to look at the guy who'd taken to looking at ace now because of his movement. "fuck you think you lookin' at? get your own fuckin' girl."

"dressed like that, she's our girl."

you let go of ace's arm, raising your hands in surrender. "have fun."

ace grinned, stepping out over the bench. "knew you'd come 'round." he leaned down to press a kiss against your cheek and his hand sneaks a squeeze of your boob, "for good luck." he claimed— then he's running off to 'protect your honor' or maybe stake his claim on your boobs.

"wear whatever you want, babe." ace tells you sometime later, after you both make a quick exit from the scene of the crime. his arm slung over your shoulder, obviously taking advantage of his height to get a bird's eye view of your 'beautiful rack', "ohhhh, that mesh lace shirt that you wear over nothing but your bra is fuckin' gorgeous." he remembered.

he rambles on and on, somehow planning outfits for you in the distant future— all of them are planned around tops that promise a view of your tits but you don't really mind. ace'll be there anyways to protect your honor.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Mr. Russell

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: when you’re digging into secrets of dangerous people, you might get burned or…

Warning: this is pure filth, SMUT, 18+, cursing, spanking, reader being tied up, maybe dark theme?, unprotected sex, mafia!George, no use of Y/N

A/N: I am sick this week and laying bored in my bed made me wrote this. I hope you enjoy it!

My mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that I woke up tied to the bed, in the bedroom I have no recollection of getting into, completely naked.

“I see, you’re awake, darling.”

The voice of a man was heard beside me. Laying on my stomach with my head towards the direction of the window it was very hard to turn to that voice, but I tried my best. It was George. George Russell. The mafia boss everybody warned me about. And I didn’t listen.

“Tsk, tsk. You were a very bad girl. Poking into secrets that you know nothing about. You should’ve been careful. But.. you were so goddamn curious, weren’t you? So, I thought that you’d be happy to experience some of that secrets for yourself.”

My mouth was dry, I swallowed hard as I listened to him. Working as an investigative reporter, it was my job to look through some cases to make my articles interesting. There were some rumours, that Russell had his own sex club, and that alone wasn’t so bad, but also drugs were involved along with some torture and violence, leading to deaths of clients and sometimes even of the “employees”.

Reels of my thoughts was interrupted by his hand on my cheek, caressing it lightly, tracing gently along my jaw.

“Speechless now, huh? You know, I can make you talk.”

“No, no, I’m gonna talk, just don’t, please.”

My voice sounded desperate and hopeless, exactly what he wanted. Trying to move my hands, the restrains dug more into the delicate flesh of mine, the soft whimper leaving my mouth.

George chuckled, when he got up from the bed, walking around it to stand right behind me. I couldn’t see much, but I bet that he liked what he was looking at. Next thing I know was his hands slipping under my stomach, pulling me upwards by my hips.

“Ass up, darling. You’re a sight for sore eyes. This is how you should be - naked, desperate and completely at my mercy. But no, you’d rather dig into shit to get informations for your stupid articles about me.”

“G-George, I-“

“For you, I’m Mr. Russell.”

And with that he slapped my ass. Hard.

“Fuck… Mr. Russell.” Choked whimper escaped my mouth as I was shocked, what just happened.

“That’s my good girl.”

His hands caressed the flesh of my ass, squeezing it and massaging it. My face was flushed with embarrassment, because, believe it or not, I liked that. A lot.

“You wanted to say something, darling? I interrupted you.” He spoke so casually, like this whole situation wasn’t even happening.

“I wanted to say, that- that I never intended to interrupt your business. I didn’t want that informations for articles, it was just my own curiosity.”

“And I am supposed to believe you, huh? Because I can’t, sweetheart. I saw the drafts you wrote.”

“But-“

Another slap across my ass. This time I felt the tingling and my toes on my feet curled from it as I bit into my lip to suppress a moan.

“You’re a fucking liar, darling. And I hate liars.”

I wasn’t able to say something else, because he spanked my ass for another five times. Delicate flesh of my behind stung and surely was red, his hands marked deeply into my skin. I was panting, tears burning in my eyes, because it fucking hurt. My body, on the other hand, had its own way to betray me.

“Ah, darling, you’re a naughty girl. Look how wet you got just from a little spanking session. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together. Unfortunately, I think that you’re not gonna get back to your usual job. Maybe I will keep you as my fucktoy from now on.”

I wanted to protest, but he was always a step ahead of me, his fingers now teasing my leaking pussy. That made me shut up instantly. Just as his fingertips traced the way to my sensitive bundle of nerves, I moaned softly and I knew it made him smile.

“Mmm… I can’t wait to claim you. You make me unbelievably hard, baby. Consider yourself special, it’s not happening often, because I’m not quite impressed by anybody.”

His voice was laced with lust and desire, it was like a music for my ears, getting straight to my core, to clench around nothing, craving him, aching for his cock to fill me.

“Please…”

“Please what, darling? Use your words. Tell me, what you want.”

Embarrassed by my neediness, I buried my head into the pillow, feeling the tension in my shoulders from the way I was tied up to the headboard.

Humming in disapproval, his fingers slid through my soaked folds, poking at the entrance, my back arching from the sensation.

“You need to say it, baby. Without that, I’m just gonna tease you to the oblivion. I can do that all night.”

Now I could feel his breath fanning over my aching core, my arms pushing against the restraints.

“I want you to eat my pussy, George, fuck, please. Please!”

I let out a loud plea, begging him to taste my arousal, to relieve the tension in my lower belly.

He just tsked at my desperate attempt, his fingers smearing my wetness across my ass cheek.

“You forgot about something. I thought I made that clear earlier.”

My mind was hazy from the desire and arousal but then I remembered.

“Please, make me cum with your mouth, Mr. Russell.”

“I knew you’re a good girl, darling.”

With that words, I felt his hot lips on my wet pussy, lapping on my bundle of nerves, while sliding his fingers inside me, stretching me out. Loud moans of mine filled the room, it was like ecstasy, my legs trembling from how good he was. I tried to move my hips a little, to get more from him but his strong arm kept me in place, just like he wanted. At first he made slow circles around my swollen nub, his fingers deep inside me, poking at my sweet spot, but then he picked up the pace with his fingers, while he was practically latched on my clit. That was too much, overwhelming feeling and I was a moaning mess, gasping for air, closer and closer to my climax.

Suddenly he stopped, getting away from me and I shifted in disapproval that he didn’t make me cum.

“W-why-“

“Shhh. Don’t worry. You’ll get to cum. But I want to feel that around my cock.”

I heard him undoing his pants, freeing his rocking hard length and as far as I could see, he smeared his cock with my juices he still had on his fingers from a while ago. It made him go feral, nearly cumming instantly of how erotic that was.

“Please, Mr. Russell. Fuck me. Fuck me like a whore.”

I didn’t care about my reputation or my image after this. I needed him, his cock seemed perfect to fill me up good and it was all that mattered now. My pussy was so worked up, dripping with arousal that I would do anything to have him.

“You’re my whore. Remember that.”

He said almost breathlessly, teasing me with his cock as he neared with it to my entrance. With one slow motion he pushed into me, stretching me to the limits, while I was nearly screaming from the overwhelming pleasure. I heard his huff along with chuckle, he was really satisfied with his making, giving my ass one slap before he started moving his hips against mine.

My brain went blank, my sight blinded as I let out a choked moans, saying his name in raspy voice, my throat dry from all that.

“You love this cock, right? Nobody can ever make you feel like this. Nobody can ever make this pussy so wet like me.”

His words made my mind spinning, I was so cockdrunk that I was drooling into the pillow. Each of his hard thrust was like a heaven for my sweet spot inside me, getting me closer and closer to release.

“Oh- my-“

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you? Huh? You think you deserve it?”

I nodded yes, desperately.

“Hm. Cum for me, darling.”

With another stretching thrust I felt my pussy tightening around him, slipping over the edge of my arousal, giving me the most toe curling orgasm I ever experienced. My body was writhing underneath him, his hand slapping my ass again to heighten my pleasure even more.

As I was coming down from my high, I also felt him twitching inside me, his pace picking up, riding to his high.

“That’s it, baby girl, I’m gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be dripping. I- ah- fuck!”

George couldn’t even finish the sentence, how he was caught off guard when my pussy squeezed him once more, ending with him painting my inner walls with his precious seed. He nearly collapsed onto me, how much he was done, breathing heavily like if he just ran a marathon.

After a while I decided to speak up. “G-George… my arms.. it hurts.”

George got out of the trance as he carefully slid out of me, kneeling beside me to untie the restraints on my hands that surely will leave marks. Then he laid down on the bed, pulling me closer to him, making me whimper a little, feeling my body sore and stiff.

“Was it the way you imagined it?” George placed a soft kiss in my hair, caressing my back lovingly.

“Mhm… much better than that, actually.” I hummed with smile.

“I enjoyed it too. We should do this role play thing more often. I felt powerful as a dangerous mafia boss.” He chuckled as he spoke.

“My dangerous Mr. Russell. You know how hard it is to say that when you’re begging for something?”

“You didn’t think that I would go easy on you, did you?”

He captured my lips in tender kiss, giving me all comfort and love I needed after that rough session.

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures not mine, they’re from Pinterest.

[katakosmos]

i’m here to yap about age gap rosekiller, what’s the dynamic like? is barty a brat or does evan just adore spilling in him sorry spoiling him. who made the first move to start the affair? was barty on a mission to get evan?

it's time to reveal all the thoughts i've been gatekeeping 🫣

barty crouch jr (26), the only son of the most caring and affectionate woman in the universe, needs a job. yes, his parents give him money every month, and yes, they even let him live in their basement (he chose it, his mother had offered him a real room), but he finally (his father's words) wants to become independent. and then, he heard some interesting stories about the very rich husband of one of his mother's pilates friends.

evan rosier (43) is married and rich (he owns a business). he's satisfied with his life and, also, happy. a good man, honest and self-confident. oops i forgot to say that he frequently cheats on his wife with his young, beautiful and sexy assistants. yes, sometimes they're dumb and can't do their job... but i mean, look at them! the eyes, the lips, the hips, the– well. he loves women, he thinks women are the best thing on the planet.

barty tries to work at his dad's office, and he finds out that he hates working. he also discovers that, if he bats his eyelashes and bites his lip, his dad's rich, straight coworkers will pay him for some little... services. he gets the hang of it.

when evan meets barty for the first time, he has just fired his 3rd assistant of the month. it's not the first time evan has seen him near his offices: leaning against the wall across the street, smoking. but it's the first time they've spoken. barty asks to work for him: the job interview takes place in a nearby cafeteria, and it lasts a only few minutes. barty eats a dessert, gets cream on the corner of his mouth, and as soon as he licks it off evan is on another planet.

barty is hired, obviously.

the first time they have sex is in evan's office a few months later. barty falls to his knees, slides under the desk and accidentally gives evan a blowjob. two days later, evan asks barty to stay a little longer. barty tells him that, however, if evan wants to fuck him he will have to pay. after all, he's working overtime.

evan would like to refuse, but he physically can't.

and that's how it starts :))

[treba-neco-napise]

i am losing my mind

okay but what if the fourth wall is just this sort of advanced awareness of what's beyond your senses and that you're just playing a part in a story some guy made up so while wade dealt with that ages ago, logan wakes up after the explosion not only to still being alive with naked sweaty tits but also being hit with sudden existential crisis like it's a truck. he's just staring at the ceiling in silence as wade starts mumbling jokes and slowly gets worried about logan because he won't even tell him to shut up. he finally gathers the strength to get up and goes "okay i really hope you didn't die on me again-"

he sees the weirded out look on his face and goes "ohh, you just entered advanced philosophy with focus on existential dread in fictional characters, yeah that's gonna hurt babygirl."

and then logan gives the ceiling a hard look like he wants to blast through it with lasers and yells "ARE YOU NOT FUCKING ENTERTAINED!!??"

yeah the realization that all the shit he had to deal with was for someone's funsies was hard to deal with.

but from that day on, logan will talk to the audience from time to time. not as much, he's not that chatty. most of the time it's just looking at the camera like he's on the office when wade fucks something up. sometimes when he's in a particularly good mood, he'll make a short snarky comment because wade rubbed off on him. that thing where he yells at the audience to turn their fucking phones off? canon. he did that. i'm pretty sure at least once he told someone off for eating popcorn in the middle of an emotionally tense scene, like can you fucking not for five seconds asshole!? we're having a moment here

sometimes they'll argue in the middle of doing stuff like they're podcast hosts. best and worst part? wade makes him start saying "chat".

Ive probably said this before but fukit I'll say this again

Logan and Wade definitely got their atoms mixed in the reactor and I wonder if Logan can break the fourth wall a bit too now?

Like after the events of the film, Logan can kinda feel or hear the fourth wall but doesn't know what it is till he sees Wade talk to the wall again, except, he can see the audience for a moment

"what the fuck!?"

"yes?"

"is that what you see when you talk to a wall?"

"GASP! You can see the fourth wall!?"

"the what?"

I like to imagine that Logan can barely perceive the fourth wall unless Wade is actively engaging with it in front of him.

And at first he just feels like he's going crazy or something, eventually he comes to accept it and is just on edge a bit because he's hyper aware that he's being constantly watched even if he can't see them. Eventually he's just used to it and then suddenly connects the dots of what Wade explained before, and realizes that he's had 0 real control over his life because some asshole "gods" in a different universe created him and wrote his backstory.

So naturally he gets up and starts cursing out and ranting at a wall happening whoever decided to torture him half his life gets an ear full.

"peanut you ok? Your talking to a wall?"

"yea that fourth wall shit, I'm telling these assholes how fucked they are"

"Logan, the fourth wall is behind you"

"FUCK!"

[ahogettena]

i don't think they're setting up nandor x the guide necessarily. at least not seriously and permanently. i genuinely don't think guidor will be endgame.

but.

BUT.

not to be disrespectful, i think some of you GENUINELY overestimate the intelligence of the wwdits writers. "they're playing the long game" "well they can't openly SAY nandermo's gonna be canon can they" "whatever nandor/the guide have going on this season is DEFINITELY just going to be a cleverly disguised way to set up nandermo and NOTHING else"

OR MAYBE IT'S JUST NOT GOING TO BE CANON.

MAYBE THE WRITERS ARE JUST SETTING UP GUIDOR BECAUSE FOR SOME FUCKING REASON THEY GENUINELY THINK THIS WOULD BE A GOOD DIRECTION FOR THE SHOW TO GO IN.

sometimes! writers! are a bit stupid! and make stupid bad decisions!!!

not to bring it up AGAIN but bbc sherlock was literally just the writers of that show writing a love story and not realising it for four! fucking!! seasons!!!

like sure, i definitely think it's possible that the writers might just actually be that clever, and that nandermo will be endgame. but it really bothers me when some people act like there's really no other possibility.

i have not given up on nandermo. and i wont. not until the final. fucking. episode. but i have to be and AM very aware that it might never be canon and that this finale might not be what i would personally consider a proper sendoff for this show, because neither i, nor anyone in this fandom, has any control over it.

keeping your expectations at least average is the best way to avoid disappointment when things maybe don't end up turning out the way you hoped they would.

[dolliels]

third times the charm.

azul x reader

synopsis: azul likes you. and he’s been trying to ask you out for a while.

a/n: okay guys im not dead wtf. posting this fic to prove i didn’t kms 💀💀

azul had only three goals in mind: prove his bullies wrong, become rich and die rich.

his love life was the least of his worries. he’d probably swoon over some wealthy girl and marry her for connections. done deal. nothing much to think about.

azul thought about the huge house he’ll eventually own. he even has the measurements and everything down in his head.

everything would be at the grasp of his hands. no children, absolutely not. everything would be perfectly spread out just for him. he’d die on his deathbed with a huge grin on his face, knowing he’d only get the best even after he has left the world of the living. perfect.

so sometimes, he’d find himself wondering why he would be in a dazed state, daydreaming about a modest, happy future with you.

everything was laid out. his entire future was laid out. then suddenly, you decided to waltz into his life, and all he thinks about is you. waking up, he’s wondering if you’re sleeping in. or when he’s eating, he’d be trying to guess what you’d be buying to see if he actually knows your tastes. or during work, gazing around mostro lounge, seeing if you’d decided to take a visit to his beloved café.

ugh, it infuriated him.

sometimes, it would go as far as thoughts of marriage, which completely ruined him.

see, the thing is, he hasn't even asked you out. you and azul were not at all close intimately in any way. friends? sure. but not close like that.

so why was his mind leaping so far? did he really want to have such a commitment with you? after all these years of obsessing over his future?

he wanted to live such a luxurious life of power and money. so everything he’s done to build all the way up here seems to tumble down when in his head, azul seemed to feel much happier in a modest life with you. he felt his heart warm at the thought of being beside you even in his death.

he hasn’t daydreamed this much since middle school, when he’s had violent thoughts about ruining anyone who’s bullied him.

so, after much contemplation, he decided to confess.

the first time, he decided it was going to be simple. he was gonna hand you a bouquet of flowers afterschool, and ask if he could court you. simple enough, right? he’s look clean and awesome.

but when the time finally arrived, he found himself to have cold feet.

yes, he’d have the comfort of knowing he would have composure, but what if you reject him? then can he keep going on with the calm, collected manner? would you think a simple bouquet of flowers would be too little?

fortunately for you, you ended up having a pretty vase of flowers. unfortunately for azul, you wouldn’t know who it came from.

the second time, azul went on full glam.

it’s be an incredibly romantic setting. It's just you and azul, chatting away after hours of mostro lunge and you’d fall right into his trap of charms, and just when you’re feeling him, he’d confess. so while you have a good impression of him, would you receive a confession from him.

fancy food, calm, quiet setting.

azul was so sure he’d be able to do this that he even let jade and floyd intervene and help out.

yet when you and azul were talking, he found himself stuttering, quite a hot mess.

although you seemed quite confused and calm, azul was in a nervous state.

he’d start overthinking again, his head wandering off to merry land, thinking about the possible results of this confession. perhaps this was too excessive? Maybe the simple bouquet of flowers from before would’ve been better. you seemed to have enjoyed them.

no! azul already got this far, he has to do this!

“so, uhm… prefect…” azul behind, breathing in deeply.

you turned to look, and blinked at him. “yeah?”

…fuck.

it was like you wanted him to fail, batting your eyelashes (you literally just blinked) and looking so cute in front of him (you just inhaled a shit ton of free food)

“a-ah… is there anything else you want? I’m feeling quite generous.”

azul wanted to sprint out. he messed up again! It seems that the words “i like you” weren’t coming out of his mouth anytime soon.

you frowned. “really? you really don’t have it out for me?”

azul shook his head, and smiled. “you can trust me.”

you shrugged. “oh well. whatever debt I have to pay will be something future me can deal with.” you flapped the menu open.

It took quite a bit of convincing for the twins to drag you here, since you were suspicious as to why azul wanted to suddenly meet you, offering free food out of nowhere. azul was wasting all of it.

the twins will never let him see the end of it.

…and never seeing the end of it was he right.

even after such a mess up, predictably, the twins kept teasing azul about it. they’d even use it against him sometimes.

“ah…you’re making us do all of this when you helped you prepare a confession for the prefect and you didn’t even confess… and wasted our time…sigh….”

it was horrible down here with jade and floyd.

if he… possibly tried confessing to you again… would they stop?

although it seemed azul was in the dumps of announcing his love for you, it made him think about it again. freedom… from the twins… is this what heaven is like?

it wasn’t like azul completely stopped thinking of you, in fact, you appeared in his thoughts even more now, which seemed impossible already but who’s to tell?

you slowly consumed his mind, it drove azul insane. what’s even worse is that you’re completely blind to it, so he can’t even go to you for comfort from this madness.

it’s technically your fault, and also not your fault at the same time!

the days went by, and azul couldn’t tolerate it any longer.

yes, he wanted to appear as awesome and composed as he could in front of you, but you were driving him nuts without trying— azul just liked you so much. He couldn’t just hold inside him, of course he would go mad!

and anyways, third times the charm, right?

however, for the unlucky octopus, he just can’t seemed to find the right time. you were constantly surrounded by people, and if you were, for the rare occasion, alone, azul would freeze up at the unexpected chance.

this crush on you got even worse as well, turning more red by the second, compared to his slight discomfort from his early days.

he was already imagining a relationship with you, embarrassingly giggling to himself like a little girl with his eyes closed in bed. it was starting to take a toll on him when his head wandered astray to thoughts of marriage… it was like the world slapped him in the face as if to say hey! your life plans are totally going down the drain because you are pathetically in love!

he's spent many days mumbling to himself like crazy. stuck to be a paranoid businessman, considering every possibility and outcome he might receive if he ever told you his feelings, especially if you were to reject him. his eyes burned from being unable to sleep at night from overthinking and the stacks of papers he had to get through because he lost track of his focus thinking of you.

now you were ruining his life.

and what were you doing? nothing.

it's like whenever you were bored, you decided to prance around the daises of his life; an unstoppable force, preventing azul from functioning normally.

this isn't like him.

"this isn't like you." said jade, leaning towards azul so that he could hear jade's hushed voice over the chatty crowds of the mostro lounge. "you're not still stuck on about the whole prefect thing, are you?"

azul sighed. "admittedly, i am." he took off his glasses and massaged his temple. "i have barely gotten any work done. what is wrong with me?"

jade chuckled. "why are you so worried? honestly, you should just walk up to them and ask. that's what i would do."

"i'm not you, jade" azul groaned. “I can’t just confidently stride to them and ask them out.”

“well of course you can’t!”

“ouch.”

“my apologies. let me reword that. you can’t do that because you’re not me. how about you do it in a way that doesn’t make you look so cool? after all, you’re quite the opposite of that. wouldn’t the truth be more endearing?”

still… ouch. but it wasn’t like jade was wrong. azul is, unfortunately, far from cool. Even though that is what he likes to display.

“and what if the prefect says yes after you ask them out with that mask of yours? are you going to keep pretending until they get sick of you?”

azul couldn’t reply. what could he say?

“just be normal. after all, i couldn’t stand to watch you like this after you made me and floyd do all that work and was still incapable of asking them out. do you know how difficult it was for me to drag the prefect here? uhehehehehe.” jade wiped away a fake tear.

azul just groaned and walked away.

a little frustrated, a little annoyed, his courage seemed to have broken the roof when he saw you walk in with grim, bickering about who knows what.

he thought back to his daydreams. the images of you smiling, holding hands, soft kisses in secret, his heart was not well.

he slowly dug deep into his head to take out a precious daydream of his;

nothing special,

it was you slowly mouthing the words “I. Love. You.” to him.

“prefect,” azul said, tapping your shoulder.

you gave your full attention to him, happily. “what’s up azul?”

“I like you. would you allow me to take you out on a date?”

a/n hi guys.. shoujo bf is coming im serious pls b patient w me 💀💀

[rothpie]

❝INHERITANCE❞|part1

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Marriage of Convenience; JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Summary: The rebellious child of a noble family, the last hope, the one meant to carry on the family name. Your grandfather’s health was failing, and though you were expected to inherit everything, he had pulled away from you completely. Now, there was only one condition for you to receive his inheritance; to get your life in order, stop coming home late at night, give up drinking, and, of course his last wish—a marriage.

Warnings: kind of daddy issues, mentioning losing parent

selly's note: I'm so excited!!! hope you like it💗💗💗

next

Parties had always been intriguing. For some, they were an escape from life; for others, a lifestyle. They were places where you’d run into everyone you knew or didn’t know. You always hoped they’d play good music, and when you walked in, you loved that moment when most eyes turned your way. Feeling their gazes, being the center of attention, being talked about—that was power. You couldn’t live without attention. Sure, everyone enjoys a little of it, but you craved it every moment.

You loved dancing wildly, drinking, and letting loose at parties. It was one of those rare times you’d truly disconnect from everything. Laughing crazily with your friends, getting close with a guy—it thrilled you. It was as if the world were ending and you were going out with a bang. Live fast, die young, right?

You were meant to live each day like it was your last. You were here to enjoy life, and you had no intention of stopping—because you wouldn’t stop. Today could be your last day.

It wasn’t just a behavior; it was a way of life.

And you were in love with it.

The future could wait; you had more important things to do now—like being young.

You loved the label of “party monster.” Even while listening to The Weeknd, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in the scene. You didn’t think you could live without partying—not at this point.

Most people didn’t matter much to you. Usually, you enjoyed drinking and hanging out with people your own age, soaking in the party vibes, watching people cannonball into pools, the beer pong games, seeing everyone try to drink from kegs. You loved being young.

No lie, you loved everything that came with youth—guys, the fun, the parties, sex, the yacht parties…

Even if you didn’t always prefer getting drunk, your body wasn’t exactly used to it. Strong drinks got you tipsy fast. Most times, you ended up having friends drop you off at home, or you’d wake up at some guy’s place you’d hooked up with. It didn’t matter. You never felt ashamed of one-night stands. Sex was just a part of life. And though you didn’t always like sneaking out quietly, you still did it.

Sticking around and getting emotional wasn’t your style. You hated the “What are we now?” question. You’d rather jump off a cliff than hear it.

Sometimes, though, you’d wake up at home, only to face your dad’s and grandfather’s disapproving stares. Most mornings, you’d stumble down to breakfast looking like a mess. Even after washing your face, your mascara and eyeliner would still smudge, the headache hitting hard—you looked fucked, no doubt.

But you were just a young girl who partied.

You might come home late, drink, be out most of the week, and practically treat the house like a hotel, but hey—at least you didn’t do drugs. That was an accomplishment, right?

You were just a girl.

Hanging out at the golf club didn’t interest you. You thought it was ridiculous, even though you were part of the Kook crowd. With so many things to do, golf? Really?

There was only one reason you’d stay out under the sun that long—tanning. Nothing else could keep you baking in the sun. Ever.

Most people at the golf club weren’t there for golf anyway. They’d wear their best outfits, spritz on perfume, do their makeup, and show up just to flaunt themselves. Some were hoping to score a date for the night, others looking for a potential spouse. The place was swarming with people trying to show off their wealth, a live version of a dating app. You hated it.

Waiting in line for a guy? 

You wouldn’t even look at someone who wasn’t interested in you from the start. Your guy had to be loyal. Chasing other women while pursuing you? Eliminated. Eyeing three other girls in the same room as you? Out. Walking alongside you and your best friends on the same beach? All three of you would kick him to the ass.

You never needed it. Your family name was known, and everywhere you went, you stood out. You didn’t need to make yourself known or put in extra effort to catch people’s attention.

You were already valuable. The brightest jewel on the island. The shiniest diamond.

You were noticeable even on the path you walked.

Still, your love life wasn’t exactly successful. You weren’t sure if it was by choice or if the guys on the island were just idiots. Either way, you always knew most of them were after your family name—maybe to get into the company, or for the benefits it would bring to their own families. It was always a letdown.

Looking back, you were grateful. Those experiences taught you something, and you were now certain none of them were worth a second thought. Your exes were terrible. Thank goodness you hadn’t given any of them your virginity.

One had been worse than the others. But at least he was handsome—and muscular, tall… Too bad he’d left the island.

You were never treated as the “heir” they wanted. Before you were even born, they’d wished for a boy. They’d wanted you to be a son. It was insulting. But you just preferred to think of it as saying, 'Too bad, bitches—I’m a girl!'

Thank heavens.

As a kid, you always wanted a sibling. So did your parents, especially a son to carry on the family line. But when your parents plans conflicted with God’s plans, there’s no telling what might happen.

Before you could have a sibling, you lost your mother. She was in the same car as your dad, and he was the only one who survived. When he refused to remarry, you were left as the family’s only grandchild.

No, you weren’t a boy. But you were still the one they had to trust to carry on the family line. You’d take over the company someday; you’d be the boss. They’d always made that clear. They let you be a kid for a while, but the moment you hit adolescence, the serious talks started. Because of the family’s public image, they always expected you to be polite and courteous. You were, of course.

But over time, these expectations became stricter, and as you felt more pressure from your family, your need for freedom grew.

As much as you loved the party life, you’d take over the company one day. That ambition was in you—it was just a matter of time. And until then, you’d live it up.

Who said girls can’t carry on the family name?

You were living proof, like millions of women out there. You had plenty of time before taking over the company, and for now, you were enjoying the moment. Future you could deal with the future. Why would you worry now?

At this age, you and Jada and Aaliyah were way too busy partying.

It had taken days for you all to decide on a birthday dinner over a party, if we’re honest. It was Jada’s 20th. It was a big deal, and you’d discussed a lot of options. But finally, she decided on a quiet celebration with her closest friends instead of a big party.

The reason was simple.

Her family had just bought a new home, and they’d made it clear they wanted no parties for a while. Jada was on board with that anyway. She didn’t want people throwing up on her new couches or couples making out all over her place.

Besides, she realized you could manage with a small, private party of your own.

First, you’d talked about doing it on a yacht, but Jada didn’t want to risk throwing up on a boat after drinking, not to mention the fear of falling overboard while drunk. It was very much something that would happen to her. She couldn’t stay stable on anything that moved.

After a lot of back-and-forth, Aaliyah came up with the idea of a dinner. She told you both to leave the details to her and picked the spot. Jada was thrilled.

She felt like she was getting a surprise party—although she knew it’d be just the three of you and was fully aware of the plan, she still acted clueless. Even on the way there, she acted like she had no idea why or where you were going—as if it wasn’t her birthday.

But neither you nor Aaliyah broke character. You both played along as if you were headed to the yacht. It became a little game between you.

“Girl, I swear—kisses to the chef won’t cut it! I need to go back to the kitchen and fuck him. If a man cooks like this, I owe him at least ten kids,” Aaliyah said, cracking you both up. Thanks to her, you had the best seats with a full view at Figure Eight’s top restaurant—prime Instagram Story material.

As you took a sip of your white wine, Aaliyah cleared her throat. You turned to her, smiling.

“Girl, you’ve lost it. What if the chef is, like, 54?” Aaliyah scrunched her face, and you joined in, pulling a face as Jada raised an eyebrow. She seemed incredulous. She took another bite before saying anything.

“You two are fucking idiot. Hugh Jackman’s 56, and I’d get in his bed in a heartbeat. I’m ready to be his personal whore.”

She had a point. If the chef looked as good as Hugh Jackman in his fifties, maybe he deserved a look, especially considering guys your age were nothing to brag about.

But still—the idea of dating, let alone sleeping with, a guy old enough to be your dad? That made you feel pretty gross. Just thinking about it made you cringe.

It was nasty.

Unless, of course, it was Hugh Jackman. For him, you'd practically sign up to be his broodmare.

After Jada threw out her little example, the silence stretched, and she looked at both of you with a smug grin. She’d laid down her final word. Period.

Spending time with these girls? Honestly, the best.

Aaliyah, right beside you, let out a dramatic sigh, catching your and Jada’s attention. When she put her hand to her mouth and dropped her fork, the two of you exchanged puzzled, worried glances. Was something wrong? But just as you started to feel real concern, Aaliyah moved her hand and started talking. “I cannot believe I forgot to tell you!”

For a moment, you were seriously worried about her, but quickly you realized that what she’d forgotten was merely a juicy piece of gossip. Which, for the three of you, was life-or-death level serious. If it wasn’t something major, there’s no way she’d be reacting like this. You dropped your fork, grabbing your wine glass as you turned to her. Jada followed suit, shaking her head with a hint of annoyance. “Girl, you’d better mean this in a good way, or I’m throwing you over the railing. You just freaked us out.”

Aaliyah tucked her hair behind her ears, her face breaking into a huge grin. She knew she was holding gold. This might just be the gossip of the year.

After clearing her throat, she looked at the two of you with sparkling eyes. “First off, I heard this from my mom. The whole island doesn’t know yet, but soon enough, everyone will. So we’re like, one of the first. Do you realize how big this is?” Aaliyah took a deep breath, savoring your expectant stares. She was clearly pleased at how primed you both were.

If she held back any longer, you were about to discover telepathy.

“You guys know the Rodolp's, right? They have a son our age, Harry. Apparently, Mr. Rodolph has been coming home later and later, and eventually it came out—he’s cheating on Mrs. Rodolph.” Gossip-wise, you were unimpressed. Who cared about middle-aged infidelity? Cheating on your wife of forty years was just... gross.

“I can see it on your faces. Hold on. Apparently, the person he’s seeing is someone our age.” Now that was interesting.

You turned fully to her, a mischievous grin growing on your face. “Girl, you’d better give us more. I’m dying of suspense here.” Jada nodded in agreement, pointing to you as she puckered her lips. “Right on the money, babe.”

“Do you remember our last year? That term when we mostly had classes together? Biology class, with Liliana. Apparently, Mr. Rodolph is fooling around with Liliana from biology. And it gets even worse—Liliana and Harry are dating. The guy is cheating on both his wife and his son, with his son’s girlfriend.”

Aaliyah was a fucking queen.

You and Jada were on the verge of screaming. If you’d been at home, you two would’ve been shrieking your heads off, but since you were in a restaurant, you both had to clench your teeth to avoid an outburst. This scandal was going to be the talk of the town for months, and thank heavens it had come your way first.

“Damn… Double homicide.”

Leaning back with pride, Aaliyah pointed to herself, clearly reveling in her role. She looked like she’d just swept every major award.

Best Gossip in the Game.

That award was hers. She deserved it.

After that, things settled down a bit. You went back to eating as Aaliyah filled you in on the divorce proceedings, how Harry was firmly on his mom’s side, and any other spicy detail she had on the Rodolph's situation. Jada blew out her birthday candle, and you handed over your gifts—she was thrilled. With a designer bag in one hand and a diamond necklace around her neck, she struggled not to scream from excitement, kissing each of you about a thousand times.

The rest of the evening felt like the perfect girl’s night. You laughed, gossiped, had a blast—until the food was gone and the alcohol intake was way too high.

No one expected to get that drunk. You were pretty sure Aaliyah had promised to only have a little, yet you were positive she had polished off a bottle herself. Jada? She didn’t even pretend; she kept saying it was her birthday and she was entitled to it. She wasn’t wrong.

At one point, Jada even contemplated going into the kitchen to hunt down the chef. She nearly got up but couldn’t decide if she should carry her new bag or stick with her regular one. She added something about 22 or 52 looking no different in her eyes.

And you? Every moment with these girls was priceless. You were making new memories to look back on, imagining them as your kids’ honorary aunts, and then as their kids’ aunts too. Best friends for life.

None of you stopped drinking. You egged each other on, shot after shot, until you lost count.

At the end of the night—you were all completely hammered.

How you got home, who paid the bill, who drove? No clue. You opened your eyes the next morning in your own bed, with a throbbing headache. You felt as if you hadn’t had water in forty-eight hours, and your stomach was burning. You wanted to just lay down on the cool floor. Hangovers like this were the worst.

Sitting up, you reached for your phone. The group chat was lighting up with notifications. When you opened it, you saw that Jada and Aaliyah were already awake, talking about just how far things had gone last night. Jada was still going on about the chef. You’d really gone too far.

It was supposed to be a normal dinner, celebrating Jada’s 20th birthday. A night to hug each other, share some love, then go home—naturally, you’d gone way beyond that.

After reading about Aaliyah getting scolded by her mom, you set your phone back on the bed, unable to deal with more notifications with your throbbing head. You’d text them back later. As much as you loved the wild nights, you hated the mornings after.

To snap yourself out of it, you headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. You were sure you reeked of alcohol, which you absolutely despised. Smelling bad was practically the worst thing you could think of. You had to smell good, always. The shower didn’t take long, and after you got out, you brushed your teeth and went back to your room. You wrinkled your nose at the lingering smell of alcohol.

You opened the windows, threw on some casual workout clothes, and as you brushed your hair, you couldn’t help but think how much you loved being a girl. The self-care, the hair products, all the creams… how do guys even go without this stuff?

What the fuck do they even talk about? How do they survive missing out on all this?

You couldn’t. It was baffling.

Once you were done, you left your hair damp and headed out of your room.

As you were about to enter the living room, three men in suits caught your eye as they exited. Instead of finding your dad and grandfather seated as usual, you noticed your father standing by the window, gazing out over the view, while your grandfather was settled in an armchair, tapping a pen rapidly.

"Good morning," you said, hesitating slightly. Things were always tense in these situations—you were used to it. They didn’t approve of your lifestyle. They might even consider it… unbecoming. And you got it to an extent, but the tension was draining. You’d always hated it.

“More like good afternoon, dear.” Your grandfather’s voice was gentle, but you sensed the sarcasm. He wasn't pleased. Classic.

Just as you were about to respond, you saw your dad turn away from the window. He rubbed his face with his hands, his eyes settling on you with a look so intense it ignited a spark of dread in your gut.

What the fuck was going on?

“Would you like to sit down?” Your grandfather’s voice broke the gaze you held with your dad. You immediately took the seat across from him, catching a hint of a smile on his face. Yet it wasn’t warm. It was an unsettling grin, one that made you feel… uneasy.

You did not like this. Not a bit.

Your dad moved to stand between you and your grandfather, arms crossed. But now he wasn’t even looking at you.

“You never understood.” Your grandfather’s voice cut through, and your brow furrowed. You hated this strained atmosphere. You wanted to get up and leave. But you knew you wouldn’t.

"I’ve tried to help you understand; your father has tried. You’re twenty years old. What are you even living for?”

Okay, now you were officially starting to worry. Your grandfather’s tone, the whole approach—he seemed to be trying to soften the blow. And that, somehow, was even worse. Right now, you hated everything about this.

“You used to be a kid with straight As, despite those odd habits of yours. You didn’t want to go to college; we let it slide. You carry yourself with a confidence that can only come from knowing you’ll always be cushioned. No lie, it’s true.” His smirk widened as he placed the pen down on the coffee table and leaned back.

You’d rarely felt fear in your life. With your father and grandfather behind you, the family name erased any need to be afraid. Your last name was its own protection.

You’d always known that whatever happened, you’d come out fine. That’s why you’d never been scared.

But now? Now your body was nearly trembling. This wasn’t like the usual lecture about your carelessness, or how thoughtless you could be. It was always that same song and dance. But today, they’d taken it somewhere new.

You couldn’t help but be scared.

“So we expected, at the very least, that you’d learn from your mistakes. But it’s clear that’s not happening. You need something to wake you up—a push. And we’ve found one. Until you prove yourself, you won’t receive even a single percent of your inheritance.”

What?

Did he just—did he really just say you were cut off?

As if you didn’t carry the family name? As if you weren’t his grandchild? There was no one else in line for this inheritance. If he left it to your dad, it would still go to you eventually.

So, just because you were young, he was really taking away your rights? This was your birthright! What you did—it wasn’t some rebellion, wasn’t meant as a statement. You didn’t act this way because—

This was your birthright…

Your grandfather started coughing suddenly, his frail body rattling with each hack. Your father moved quickly to his side, and you got up as well. But he raised his hand to stop you both. A helper came to wheel him out of the room, his chair squeaking slightly on the floor. Watching him leave, you replayed his words in your mind, trying to make sense of it.

It was impossible. This was your birthright! How could he just strip it from you?

“You’ve gone too far,” your dad spoke, fixing you with a look that felt like a fireball about to explode. You wanted to lash out, to yell, to demand that this decision be taken back. But the words didn’t come.

“You came home last night like a disaster. Do you know how hard I had to fight to keep him from cutting off your credit cards?” He shook his head, his voice rough. “You’re going to fix this. You’re going to restore your image in his eyes, because right now, you are anything but the girl he wants you to be.” Your hands went to your wet hair, squeezing in frustration. You wished this was all a nightmare, that you were still sleeping.

“What do you want from me, Dad? Should I become some kind of church girl?” Your voice had risen without you realizing it, and you quickly quieted down. You hated feeling cornered, hated this situation, hated everyone—everything.

And those credit cards… if they were cut off, there’d be nothing left for you. And now, losing your future inheritance entirely? It was catastrophic. It wasn’t like you wanted your grandfather dead; you loved him, outdated as he was. But this felt so unfair… You hated every bit of it.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes!” Your dad’s voice snapped you back to reality, his tone so firm it reminded you of being ten years old, on the verge of crying because you hadn’t gotten your way. “Your grandfather is ready to leave the money to the government, do you understand? No—look at me. Let this sink in. Money, property, the company—everything. Fix this. He got married at twenty. It’s practically a miracle he hasn’t lost his mind with you staying out all night, bringing home God knows who. You’re going to fix this, understand?”

You found yourself nodding automatically.

The way he was using this inheritance as a punishment was disgusting. Leaving it all to the government—now that was a nightmare. You did not want that.

“Can’t you… Can’t you change his mind?” you asked, voice low. Your father gave you a look like you’d just spoken in a foreign language. He took a few quick steps forward, disbelief on his face. He was furious that you still seemed unwilling to accept this reality.

“Do I look like I haven’t tried?” His voice was hard, his expression angry. He was holding back to avoid drawing attention. Neither of you wanted this conversation getting back to your grandfather. “If you want the money, you’re going to stop spending your nights out like some fool. Yes, actually, a church girl wouldn’t be a bad idea. Hell, maybe even get married if you need to, I don’t know! Just make him happy! I’m not the one causing this mess!”

Your hands pressed against your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of it all. You tried to think. Even if you did all of this, how did you know your grandfather would ever change his mind? Maybe he’d never truly approve…

When you opened your eyes to speak, you found an empty room.

Of course—your dad had left.

[twilightkitkat]

Oh my god, that's such a good cosplay, especially with the face paint detailing. It looks just like him if he came to life.

As for my idea I think it'd actually work better with Stryker than Francis now that I think about it.

I think it'd be more of a crack AU where Deadpool has to try not to die to shitty animatronic caricatures of the X-men. Because they're so famous that of course someone would capitalize on it. Except Stryker uses it as a cover to lure kids into the back and promises to make them heroes like the X-men in exchange for letting him "experiment"... but we all know how that goes.

Wade would be one of those former experiments who managed to escape and is returning to finish it once and for all. He initially scoped out the pizza place during the day, and saw nothing too suspicious. He actually seemed to get along fine with the Colossus rendition. But he felt oddly on edge, especially the oddly familiar glare of a yellow and blue animatronic... it reminded him of someone he thought was long gone by now.

But that's even more motivation to try to destroy this scheme once and for all, right? So he decides to take up the night shift. And holy shit it was not at ALL like it was during the day...

He'd have to suffer through the nights barely managing to hang on. But here's the thing: Wade was annoyed, but never outright terrified like the previous workers. Why? Stryker's false promises might not have made him a hero, but they sure as hell made him a monster.

So when Colossus, his friend during the day, breaks in and kills him... well, it takes Wade about ten minutes to get back in working order. Fuck, that's gonna hurt in the morning...

And so begins the process of him guarding the place at night while trying to investigate when he can sneak out of the room, then coming during the day to analyze what the fuck Stryker did to these animatronics' programming.

But despite the fact that pretty much all the animatronics seemed to be ready to kill him, there was one that hadn't moved from his station at all. One who was a bit more unnerving than the others, gaze punctuated with something akin to awareness. Something... oddly human.

(Wade's memories of being under Stryker's thumb were blurry at best and repressed at worst, but he could swear it was familiar. But he must be crazy, right? Stryker may have figured out how to fuck with human DNA but he couldn't put human consciousness into machines...)

Wolverine hadn't moved from the stage at all. He just stood there, eyes fixed straight ahead, although Wade could swear that sometimes his eyes flicked straight toward the camera. He was still and silent, the only one Wade didn't have to defend himself against. He didn't move. That was, until the fifth night.

i can't believe i havent posted this absolute ICON in my tumblr yet

[heres Michael Afton fanart!!!]

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #2: NOT QUITE THERE

(also on spotify!)

b-b-back once again

Round two of the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was track one, Dyad - today is track two, Not Quite There, featuring the incomparable telebasher!

This one's a bit of a dark horse relative to the rest of the album, but it may very well be my personal favorite song on the entire thing so dammit let's Yap

---

For the uninitiated, this song pulls heavily from a song off my previous album called Gummyworm, both in vibe and by very directly quoting its synth motif.

Both of these songs deal with two sides of the same emotional coin. I actually don't want to go into too much detail about it - I feel like the lyrics spell things out clearly enough - but I will say this:

When it's all you know, it's easy to believe that a love that isolates you, a love that doesn't respect you, a love that hurts is better than no love at all.

You deserve better. There are always people who genuinely want what's best for you, who want you to feel truly loved. It certainly isn't always easy - it's genuinely good if your interpersonal relationships have a little friction sometimes - but love should make your life brighter.

You deserve a love that's fair.

---

The original version of this song was actually intended to be on Bittersweet alongside Gummyworm. The original concept for that album had a whole heady concept involving duality, songs reflecting each other, the two halves basically being reprisals of each other... Ultimately, I'm glad I scrapped that idea, because it was waaaaaay too much for me to manage after a couple years of barely making music. Maybe I'll revisit it someday though?

The drums on this song are sampled from an Instagram post by Louis Cole, where he's doing this crazy one-handed hi-hat blast by holding a drumstick sideways. I'm a drummer and that shit genuinely scares me a little like i dont know how he does half the things he does its fucked BUT. I bring this up because he's one of my biggest inspirations as a musician! I'm really big on jazz in general, in case my love for spicy chords wasn't enough of an indication, but his specific brand of freaky hyperactive bullshit just does it for me.

Seriously, go watch his band KNOWER play their song Overtime. Absolutely insane performances across the board. also Clown Core

This whole song is really just my attempt at matching some of that hectic jazzy energy with my own style of music, so I figured it only made sense to make it another collab with another musician making delightfully frantic jazz bullshit - the legend herself, telebasher! I really am such a massive fan of her work, and I struggle to think of anyone who plays guitar quite like she does. We previously worked together on another Bittersweet track, Asemic Speech, and her guitar work is a major reason why that song is still one of my favorite I've ever released!! She's just built different like listen to this oh my god!!!!

Lastly, since this song was one of the first written for this entire project... it is admittedly a case of me shoehorning the album's leitmotif in after the fact. It's a little forced when it shows up in the backing vocals! But, the choir of vocal synths during the guitar solo served an additional purpose - my own voice doesn't show up on the album again for another four entire songs, and this would've otherwise been the only song on the entire album that didn't feature any vocal synths. Thus did I attempt to bridge the gap, as it were. Hopefully it makes the final product feel more natural!!

Either way, that's all for today's post.... i think.... which means that tomorrow.... we're gonna rot.... for clout

[anomaliex]

Freshman year Fabian loves his friends dearly but he still feels pressure to conform to what he’s been taught is perceived as cool and awesome and like, doesn’t openly want to be best friends with Riz because he’s a loser nerd. Which is mostly canon right? But then he grows into doing whatever the fuck he wants and making it cool because it’s him doing it later. I think that he also gets much more open in his affection towards his friends that aren’t rockstars (and at the time on the Owlbears), especially Riz, who is his best friend amongst best friends (or potentially more if you like Fabriz, but this isn’t a ship thing).

This is awesome for Fabian, but I like to think about how it feels from Riz‘s perspective? It happens suddenly. I mean it took a few sessions, and a few in game days, but he did drastically change over spring break. Which means the last day of school was "Fabian pretends not to be close to me in front of cool people. Which I get haha, that’s fine." and then the next school day afterwards was,,,,not that anymore. I think at parties and stuff Fabian would actively seek out Riz (if he’s there at all lol) after mingling with cool kids because he’s like wow that was fun I’m gonna talk to a person I like more than these guys now and Riz is just? Confused? Yes he understands what changed and this is awesome but it probably takes a while to get used to.

Fabian isn’t the biggest on self reflection, but after abandoning his macho champion persona I do think he would realise that he’s been a little shitty, sometimes. Which doesn’t really speak to what kind of person he is in my opinion, because there’s no one who acts shittier in interpersonal relationships than dumb insecure teenagers, and he fixes it! And I don’t know if he’d verbally apologise but he’d at least get his friends (again, especially Riz) a bunch of stuff and they could probably all tell what’s going on (except Gorgug who has a track record of shitty insight despite decent wisdom in theory). But also maybe he would say sorry, both being a bard and getting in touch with his elven roots would make him more, like, emotionally available I think. (Side note, I do believe most high elves are kinda stiff and suppressed etc. Look at the Abernants and associates. But Telemaine is all about poetry and really living life and self expression through dance. So I think that would positively influence Fabian.)

Oughhh Also Fabian wears the best friends forever necklace btw. It‘d probably still be mostly under his shirts or something but I swear to you he doesn’t take it off. They’re best friends forever fr (and he wore it before his no good very bad day and class change and stuff. He’s always liked it he just wouldn’t have admitted it before lol).

Oh speaking of post toxic masculinity Fabian, he should paint his nails. This is not related to anything I just like to think he would. Clear polish at least, nice and shiny :)

[moronic-validity]

Yep alright, it's 12:26 and I mentioned arguing with Ford to @callsigngrim and @stickyarbiterwombat and it just won't leave my head

Ford x Reader

18+

MDNI, AND I WILL CHECK!!!!

God, he's so fucking smart and sometimes it's the hottest thing you've ever seen... sometimes it's fucking insufferable.

Sometimes, you're in the middle of explaining something and he'll either excitedly cut you off, or worse, immediately correct you.

It doesn't even matter if it's even a subject from his various fields of study, he's the smartest person in the room, and sometimes he just has that insufferable urge to make that fact known.

There's a pause. You either correct him because he mangled the concept, or chide him because he cut you off.

And either way, he doubles down.

This is the part where two paths diverge. You can, of course, let it go. I wouldn't blame you, Fidds wouldn't blame you, hell, BILL HIMSELF WOULDN'T BLAME YOU. Arguing with Ford is like playing chess with a pigeon, even if you win, he'll knock the pieces off the board and strut around like he won.

Your other option is to argue. A word of advice, only engage him in an argument if you're good at ignoring things.

Do your best to ignore the way his voice changes cadence, the way his cheeks flush just slightly, the way his fingers drum at his thighs as if he's trying to pace when he can jump back in.

Ignore the way his lips curl just slightly when you eventually raise your voice in frustration because even when he's wrong, he still looks so fucking smug.

Go ahead and keep ignoring the way he absolutely treats this like foreplay, baiting you into shoving him, just so he can take hold of your wrists and pull you into his lap.

Ignore the way he groans and keeps arguing his point as he stretches you open on his fingers.

Ignore the way he bullies his cock into your tight hole, still arguing his point, taking your panting whimpers as you conceding your point.

Then ignore the satisfied grin on his face as he considers the argument won, with the added benefit of your blissful, fucked out smile as you look up at him, the argument the furthest thing from your mind.

As said, sometimes he's fucking insufferable.