#but thank you so much for the ask and for it to be weirdly on brand <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mmmilkweed]

Recently found you tiktok and oh boyyyy I feel so bad for all the people recognising your art from the NSFW works on bluesky/twitter. Keep doing it, like, don't stop, just know you have a veryyyy recognisable art style

love your work <3

-🧀🛹 anon

Thank you so much, you actually don't understand how much this means to me. It's really disheartening. I didn't think it would effect me this much, but it did! And weirdly enough, I've gotten worse comments than this, but somehow it's these "oh I know you.." are really digging into me. I was so dejected my professor literally called it out and asked me bout it lmao. We had a very lovely talk.

Thank you for the ask! I really didn't think my artstyle was all that and a bag of chips! I threw it together on a whim, literally just for Shadow Milk cookie. I wanted something simple and fast!!

This was the first ever Smilk drawing I did in this artstyle.

I also caved and downloaded tumblr on my phone, since I'm going to be constantly away from my pc (I go to a uni out of my hometown and live in dorms. Can't take my pc in dorms)

[no-144444]

family game night- o.piastri

summary: family game night in the off-season

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

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Oscar smiled as he watched the scene in front of him. The monopoly board laid out, Hattie and Eddie to his left, his mum and Tim across from him, and you and Mae beside him. He loved the off-season. He loved going home to Australia and seeing his friends and family, he loved catching up with everyone, he loved getting to relax. Though, his favourite part was definitely getting to see you interact with his family. You and Mae got on so well, you and Eddie got on so well, and you and Hattie got on so well. Tim adored you, Nicole literally threatened him to never lose you. It was always perfect. You were perfect. He turned his head away from the game to see you braiding Mae’s hair as she lay in your lap, slightly checked out of the game. He chuckled. 

“That’s so unfair!” Hattie protested against Tim’s move. 

“That’s Monopoly,” he shrugged smugly, taking over their property.

You and Mae looked at the board for a few moments and then made your move. It was nothing groundbreaking, so it was on to Oscar’s turn next. You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek before going back to Mae’s hair, and fuck. He wished it didn’t mess with his head so much. He didn’t really know why it fucked with him so much, but it just did. Everything felt so… you. It overwhelmed his senses. He cleared his throat and quickly put his turn together, but weirdly, everyone was looking at him with a smirk. 

“What?” he asked, placing  more of the popcorn in his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Osc, you’re on the ‘go to jail’ space,” you pointed out. He sighed and moved his piece, much to the delight of Hattie and Eddie. 

He moved closer to you as the next turn began, Hattie and Eddie arguing over their next move. “Unfair,” he whispered. 

You looked at him confused. “It’s not my fault you’re shit at Monopoly.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “A) you’re my girlfriend, you should be my partner. B) you kissed me on the cheek, that’s cheating.”

You stared at him again, confused. “I kiss you on the cheek all the time,” you shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

He shrugged back, not really wanting to explain it in front of his entire family. “I don’t know, just… messes with me.”

You smiled at him, amused by his explanation. “Osc-”

“Alright Loverboy, pack it up, I want my teammate back,” Mae interrupted, pushing Oscar away from you and into the board (by accident), so that the entire board flipped back to him and hit him in the face. The group was a cacophony of ‘oh my god I’m so sorry’, ‘are you ok?’, or laughing. You leaned over to him, trying to contain your laughter and cupped his cheek, looking for injuries. 

“You alright?” you asked. “No broken nose?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a hug. “Just a bruised ego.” 

You laughed and pulled back, ready to clean up the board. “You go make some popcorn, we’ll clean this up,” you told him. 

He shook his head and grabbed your arm, pulling you up. “Mae can clean the board,” he shot a nasty look her way (which she reciprocated), as she started cleaning up the board. Nicole and Tim followed you two to check on Oscar and get some food, while Hattie and Eddie started to pick the film. You leant against the counter in the kitchen, waiting for the popcorn to finish. Nicole and Tim left the kitchen after some short conversation, and immediately Oscar was on you like a cat. He pressed his lips to yours, his hands caging you in against the counter, gently going up and down your sides. He pulled back and you looked at him expectantly. 

“Just missed you,” he shrugged. 

You shook your head with a smile. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he pressed another kiss to your neck. Then another. Then another. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he smiled. 

“I’m really glad I’m here too,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been coming here every year for the past 3 years.” 

You shrugged. “Still nice to thank you for inviting me.” 

He shook his head with a smile and pressed another kiss to your lips. How did he ever get so lucky?

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navigation for my blog :)

[morgana-larkin]

Alright here's part 11 of 'Just Tired'! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 10 Part 12

Just Tired - Part 11

Warnings: Manipulative relationship (mentioned), mentions of sex, Melissa is spiraling

Words: 3k

Melissa opens her eyes the next morning and looks over at Anna sleeping next to her. She quickly gets up, gets dressed and leaves as she orders an Uber to bring her back to Barb’s place. She gets back to Barb’s place and as soon as she steps in is Barb and Gerald there on the couch.

“Well aren’t you home late, seeing as we dropped you off at the bar about 12 hours ago.” Barb says and Melissa sighs.

“How is it you’re able to make me feel like a teenager even though we’re both fully grown adults?” Melissa complains and Barb laughs.

“It’s called being a mom and a teacher.” Barb explains. “So how was last night?” 

“A lot of fun, I even went home with this girl called Anna after we danced and kissed all night at the bar.”

“Wait, you didn’t go home with Y/n?” Barb asks and Melissa shakes her head.

“No, she was dancing with multiple girls all night. But two girls hit on me, one of them being Anna and another one. I forget her name but it made me happy since Y/n was right, I’m not too old to start living my life the way I want. I have a chance to explore and be stupid as much as I want.” She says to Barb and then there’s a knock on the door. Melissa turns around and walks the few steps to the door and sees you there wearing sunglasses. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check in on you after last night. You had a few drinks and from what I saw, quite a few kisses.” You tell her and you see a blush appear on her cheeks.

“I’m good, better than good actually.” She says and you smile at her. “I also want to go back again next weekend.” She tells you and you quirk your eyebrows at her. “I know it may seem hasty but I had so much fun and I want to feel that again.” She explains.

“I can go with you again, but Melissa, don’t try to get caught up in thinking you’ll only get happiness from the bar as it can become addictive. There’s many other ways to be happy without loud music, cheap drinks and girls kissing you.” You tell her and she nods.

“Will you show me other ways?” She asks and you nod.

“I’ll show you how 25 year olds are having all sorts of fun these days.” You tell her and she smiles before bringing you in for a hug.

“Thank you.” She says softly and you nod before pulling back. 

“Anytime. I gotta go as I have a major hangover and a few errands to do later on.” You tell her and and she nods before she gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“Have a nice rest of your weekend.” She tells you before closing the door. You go to your car and drive off back home. Melissa has her back to the door and takes a deep breath before realising that Barb and Gerald are still there and she sees them looking at her weirdly. “What?”

“Sweetheart, I think you have a crush.” Barb tells her and Gerald nods in agreement. “And even if you kiss 100 hundred girls in bars, there’s a chance that crush will remain.” Barb says.

“Oh that reminds me, I have to look up a few songs and I need Y/n’s help for that.” Melissa says and takes out her phone and texts you.

On Monday Morning, Melissa is watching as you talk about something but she notices a bruise on your neck and that takes all her attention off of what you’re saying.

“Melissa, are you still listening?” You ask and she snaps out of her mind and looks at you.

“Huh?” She asks and you look at her. “Sorry, I just noticed that you have a hickey that you didn’t cover up.” She tells you.

“The kids won’t notice, the blouse covers it.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Hon, I noticed it, the kids will more than likely see it.” She tells you.

“Melissa, the only way you would notice is if you’re looking at my neck, so why were you looking at my neck?” You ask her and she freezes.

“It’s not my fault that I just happened to notice something that you should have covered up, or maybe you shouldn’t have slept with that girl.” She says and you look taken back by her before you grab your things and walk out of the break room and Barb turns to her.

“Aren’t most people happy after sleeping with someone?” Barb asks her.

“Because I didn’t… finish.” She says and Barb tilts her head. “I…” Melissa starts and then leans closer and whispers. “I fingered Anna until she came but I told her she doesn’t need to do anything to me.” Melissa tells her and Barb looks at her. “I kept picturing Y/n so I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I should have. Either way I shouldn’t have snapped at Y/n. How is she even able to sleep with other girls if she has a crush on me?”

“Because as much as you don’t want to hear this, she’s trying to have fun and move on.” Barb tells her.

“Why is she trying to move on and how do you know she is?”

“You’re not emotionally available, Melissa. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you can’t keep trying with people like that.” Barb tells her.

After that comment, Melissa ends up avoiding you for the rest of the week and you can’t seem to figure out why. You’ve tried to talk to her many times but she keeps shutting you down or ignoring you. Barb has tried to get Melissa to talk to you many times but without success.

On Friday night, Melissa makes it to her bedroom at Barb’s and closes the door before collapsing on the floor. She leans against the door and brings her knees to her chest as she starts crying. The comment Barb made about you moving on from her hurt her more than she would like to admit. All week she’s been angry at you about wanting to move on from her but now she’s just upset and she doesn’t know what to do. She gets up and goes to her bed and cries until she falls asleep and takes a small nap. 

She wakes up a few hours later and she goes to eat something. As she’s eating, she remembers what she was thinking about before her nap and an idea comes to me. She remembers it’s Friday night and the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, at least that’s how the saying goes. She finishes eating before she goes upstairs to put on a revealing shirt, some nice pants and then heads out to the bar that you brought her to on Saturday.

She walks in and takes a look around and immediately feels like it’s not the same as you’re not here. She walks to the counter and orders a drink for herself. She drinks the entire thing pretty quickly and then orders another one before a woman walks up to her and asks for a dance. Melissa agrees immediately and she’s led to the dance floor by the woman and they begin dancing. 

A few drinks later and Melissa is drunk and some woman is kissing her neck. She doesn’t remember who at this time or her name. She was quite angry and upset when she got here and now she’s angry, drunk and horny which is a dangerous mix. The next thing she knows, she’s making out with a woman on the dance floor before she’s being brought to the woman’s house.

The next morning Melissa opens her eyes and sneaks out before the woman wakes up. She gets back to Barb’s house and just walks right by as Barb and Gerald question her as they were worried.

“We don’t even know where you were all night.” Barb says as she follows Melissa to the room.

“It doesn’t matter where I was. I’m not a damn child!” Melissa yells at her before slamming the bedroom door in Barb’s face. 

Melissa spends most of the day in her room, either on her phone, reading a book, grading some work or just thinking about her life. Around supper time, she gets changed into a new outfit and then leaves the house. She stops by a fast food place and eats some food before she goes back to the bar. 

She’s on her third drink before she decides to go on the dance floor and a young woman immediately starts dancing with her. She’s starting to recognise the songs that are playing and she’s singing along to them. 

On her fourth drink, she’s dancing with another young woman, and has her arms wrapped around her neck while dancing to a song. All of a sudden she gets pulled off of her and is dragged away before she gets the chance to process what’s going on. When she stops moving she looks at who dragged her away and is looking at your face.

“Y/n?” She asks and she can’t really tell what your expression is as the room got a bit unstable. 

“Melissa, what the hell is going on with you?!?!” You yell at her and she goes to speak but then she starts running to the bathroom as everything's coming up. You run after her and hold her hair as she throws up. You rub her back as she’s on her knees and doesn’t look too good right now. “Are you ok?” You ask her after a minute.

“No.” She says and she flushes the toilet before she gets up. She walks over to the sink and washes her hands before turning to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Barb called me an hour ago, said she’s getting more and more worried about you. Especially since you left last night without a word and came home the next morning and yelled at her.” You explain to her and she sighs.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” She tells you and crosses her arms.

“I’m not a babysitter if that’s what you’re thinking, and neither is Barb. You just got out of a toxic relationship and we think you’re spiraling. So we’re worried about you.” You tell her and she takes a deep breath.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you can just move on with your life and leave me alone.” She says and you tilt your head.

“What?” You ask her.

“Barb told me on Monday that you could be trying to move on from me as I’m not ready for a relationship.” She tells you and you sigh.

“Well she’s not entirely wrong. I do want a relationship but I’m also 25 and not sure what I really want yet, other than be a teacher. But Melissa, I don’t think it’s possible right now to move on from you as you’re the exact type of woman that I’m attracted to, looks and personality.”

“How were you able to sleep with some random woman while having a crush on me?” 

“It’s called being drunk and having fun.” You simply tell her and she looks at you. Besides last Saturday you went home with a girl and slept with her, and I’m assuming last night you did as well.”

“Neither one of them touched me.” She admits and you look at her in shock. “I told them not to touch me after I made them come as all I think about is you. Even when I’m literally fingers deep in another girl, all I think about is how you’d feel if my fingers were inside of you.” She confesses and you take a breath before holding her hands. She gets them out of your grasp and glares at you. “Don’t touch me.” She states angrily and slurring a bit.

“Melissa, I think it’s best if we continue this conversation when you’re sober and not so angry.” You say to her and she scoffs before walking out of the bathroom and going back on the dance floor. 

You huff out a breath at her childish behaviour and you decide to stay and watch over her. You go over to the bar and order some water for yourself as you want to stay completely sober. You get your phone out and quickly text Barb that you found Melissa and she’s ok right now. You watch Melissa as she looks to be having fun dancing and singing along to the songs. Melissa goes to the bar to get another drink and sees you there and you wave to her. She just rolls her eyes and goes back to dancing with her new drink. 

You watch as she starts dancing with a woman and notice how she keeps glancing at you while dancing with the other woman. You then see her kiss the other woman and you feel a bit disappointed at that as she’s kissed multiple woman in the past 2 weeks. She then continues kissing her and makes out with her on the dance floor and you end up looking away and sadly twirl your straw around.

Melissa glances at you after making out with the woman that started dancing with her and sees you looking upset and looking at your water. She wanted you to feel hurt as she’s been for the past week but now that she’s done it, she immediately regrets it. She then sees you get up and go to leave and she follows after you.

“Y/n!” She yells after you, and she’s walking a little wobbly. You continue walking away and then you hear her yelp and a thump and you turn around to see that she fell. You quickly go to her and help her up and see that she has a small scratch on one of her hands. 

“Come on, I’ll bring you to Barb’s place and clean this up for you.” You tell her and she’s shaking her head.

“No, I want to go to your place.” She tells you and you nod.

“Ok, I’ll bring you to my place then.” You say and then bring her to your car. 

You bring her to your place and up to the bathroom and get her to sit on top of the toilet lid. You get a cloth and a bandaid out before you wet the cloth in hot water and then turn to her. You begin cleaning the cut up and she flinches at first before she lets you continue.

“So is the reason you’ve been avoiding me is because you were hurt that you thought I was moving on from you?” You ask her and she nods. “Melissa, even if I was then that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you, I want to be in your life, whether it’s as friends or something more.” You tell her and she sighs and looks down. “Besides, you’re having fun now, and you might be the one who meets someone else that you want more than me.” You add she looks at you.

“Sorry I was an ass this week.” She says after a few seconds and you look at her and smile.

“I think most of us have ignored someone for a week and then spiral on the weekend at a bar.” You tell her.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” She says.

“I’m being serious. I’ve seen one of my friends spiral at a bar for a month and I got very worried about her. Me and this other friend forced her out of the bar and brought her home and talked to her the next morning.” You tell her as you put the bandaid on and seal it with a kiss on the bandaid. “My friend wasn’t careful and got drugged one night. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.” You tell her as you look into her eyes and she takes a deep breath.

“When I noticed that you were sticking around, I wanted to hurt you so I started making out with that woman.” She admits and you sigh before you bring her to your bed.

“Take off whatever you don’t want to sleep in and then get to sleep.” You tell her as you grab a pair of pjs for yourself. You go to the bathroom and get ready for bed and you come back to see her struggling to take her pants off. “Here, let me help with that.” You say and she stops moving and lets you take them off. She then gets into bed and gets comfy and then notices that you start walking away.

“Where are you going?” She asks as she sits up.

“I’m taking the couch.” You tell her as you close your bedroom door and go downstairs.

“Y/n!” Melissa yells after you and runs out into the hallway and you turn around as you’re halfway down the stairs. “Can’t you stay with me?” She asks and you sigh.

“Melissa, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m sorry I tried to hurt you.” She blurts out. “Please stay with me.” She pleads and you walk up the stairs. You decide to stay with her until she falls asleep. You crawl into bed with her and she ends up cuddling you before she falls asleep. 

You wait until you notice her breathing evens out and then you carefully get out of her hold, then out of the bed and quietly make your way downstairs and get as comfy as possible on the couch before you manage to fall asleep.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta 

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@sexysapphicshopowner 

@dvrkhcld 

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@ricejucie 

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[rocketbaby]

Heyy! Could you do another bunny izuku of how he acts like in heat I eat them up every time

I was actually really thinking about writing him again, bunny izuku has my heart. Please excuse any mistakes I was rushing a bit 🙏

Tw! Suggestive/nsfw -no actual sex scenes, hand job -- Mha master list

I believe his heat can get quite pretty painful and if he doesn't get the help he needs he starts behaving weirdly.

Bunny!Izuku starts begging you to help him with his heat,he's asking you to let him mate with you. Usually you tell him no because he gets really really rough during those times and you can't take it:(

He still insists,but you don't give in to his pleas,you still want to be able to walk after all. However if he doesn't get what he needs he'll start acting up.

In the first days of his heat he's being a little bitch about everything, hiding your shit around the house so you don't find them, chewing on your chargers and even clothes, leaving holes in them.

Btw he also uses your undies and/or bra to jerk of, wrapping them around his dick.

He'll go like this for a few days but his heat eventually gets worse for him and he's no longer able to hold back. He knew you said no but the poor thing really needed this,his cock was aching and twitching in discomfort.

One night when you get home from work/studies you can't spot him,you call out his name multiple times only to hear some whines and murmurs coming from your bedroom.

During his heat you don't allow him to sleep in your room because he'll get naughty in the middle of the night, trying to stick it in while you sleep. So he gets his own room and he knows damn well he can't be in yours.

You sigh as you walk in your room, seeing him humping your pillows while burying his face into one of your shirts (it smells like you and it gets him hard)

Bunny!izuku was whining out your name when he noticed you got home. You saw his eyes tear up a bit,you knew his heats were more intense than the average heat for other animals but you were still hesitant about letting him fuck you.

You walk up to him, stroking his ears and hair a bit,which only got him harder. He groans and grunts a lot at your touch.

You were really tempted to give in to him in this moment but you were busy tomorrow and you couldn't just stay home..and it'd be weird if people saw you limping around.

Sighing,you quickly help him on his back, lowering down his shorts.

He whines at your action, giving you a soft glance,his eyes are so pretty when he cries. A few tears run down his face as his eyes lower down to your hand wrapping around his cock.

A loud grunt leaves his mouth as his body suddenly goes limp. Your hand was so much better than his,so much softer.

His head leans back against the pillow while his hips buck up into your hand.

Poor izuku can never last long,he always cums so so quickly. He can go 3 minutes at max.

He came all over your fist as you were stroking him through his orgasm. I believe he can get pretty vocal in these moments..he also begs a lot.

"ngh oh god,thank you,thank you. Your hand feels so warm,mmmh its so much better than mine"

"please please,next time lemme be inside you,yeah? Please love, please let me have you"

[writer-freak]

Would you be willing to write some Frank Morrison x reader headcanons where the reader is the polar opposite of him?

He's aggressive at times and not patient with other people, getting angry at situations that get out of hand, meanwhile the reader is calm and rational. Could be a bit nsfw? In the sense that exploring this dynamic in a more spicy context would be quite interesting! Thanks for reading this and have a good day.

A/n: I love writing for Frank again as I haven't done it in over a year, thank you so much for this request. Also double upload today

Warnings: gn reader, not really explicit Nsfw part, but just in case I still separated them, reader is a bit of a tease

Frank Morrison x Opposite reader

Frank is very impulsive, aggressive, and always looking for a fight.

You, on the other hand, almost always think before acting, always keeping a level head even when things get completely out of control.

And That alone pisses him off sometimes, just how the hell can you stay so calm? It almost feels like you're mocking him without even trying.

Arguments between Frank and the rest of the Legion usually get heated quickly, and when he storms off to cool down, it’s not uncommon for you to be the one to find him.

You’re not scared of his temper, nor do you feed into it. Instead, you let him rant, arms crossed, nodding occasionally as he paces and curses under his breath.

You don’t try to tell him to calm down, you just let him burn out his rage, and weirdly enough, that’s what actually does calm him down.

He also kinda hates that you don’t get scared of him. You’re supposed to flinch when he raises his voice. You’re supposed to avoid him when he’s pissed.

But you don’t. Instead, you meet his glares with a completely neutral expression, asking if he’s done yet so you can actually talk.

It’s infuriating. But also kinda attractive. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when you are like this.

Frank can’t stand the delusional optimism that some of these people in the realm have, believing that one day they will be able to get out of here.

This is probably another reason why he likes you so much because you learned to accept the hell that you are now trapped in and try to make the best out of it.

You keep him in check, whether he likes it or not.

He’s reckless, quick to act on his emotions, and you’re the only one who knows how to pull him back before he does something he’ll regret.

“Frank. Breathe.” A simple phrase, spoken in that specific tone of yours, and somehow it works (though if anyone else told him that he would be even more pissed off). Not always, but enough times that he hates to admit he needs you.

He’ll rarely outright say he appreciates you. But you notice the small ways he shows it, like getting an extra cigarette for you, standing next to you without a word when you seem tired, “accidentally” leaving his jacket where you can take it when it’s cold.

He starts getting jealous in the most annoying ways.

You get along with most of the people in the realm, and that pisses him off.

It’s not even that he thinks you’re into anyone else, he just doesn’t understand how you can be so patient with people when they’re so damn stupid.

If he catches you talking to Dwight too much, he’ll suddenly appear behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and glaring at Dwight like, Yeah, they’re mine, fuck off.

Frank’s love language is very physical. Not in the soft, romantic way, more like grabbing your wrist and pulling you somewhere without explanation, resting his chin on your head when he’s tired, slinging his arm around your waist like it’s no big deal.

He’s not gentle, but he’s not rough with you either, just possessive.

Nsfw

Frank is very impatient, and you’re not.

This leads to some very interesting moments. He’s the type to get frustrated easily, to want things now, while you take your sweet time, teasing him just by staying calm when he’s anything but.

He also gets off on how collected you stay. It should piss him off more, but something about you keeping your cool even when he’s breathing heavy against your neck, hands gripping your hips like he’s about to lose his mind, it messes with him.

You’re not unaffected, but you make him work for it, and it drives him insane.

You have this way of keeping control without even trying. He’s rough, he’s demanding, but somehow, he always ends up following your pace.

You pull his hair, and he melts. You tell him to slow down, and he grits his teeth but obeys. He doesn’t even realize you’re the one in control half the time, it’s not until afterward that he’s like, wait a fucking second…

Jealous/frustrated in general Frank is a menace.

If he’s mad about something (or someone), expect him to take it out on you, in the best way.

He’ll have that look in his eye, with that you’re mine energy, pushing you against a wall, hands gripping your jaw as he growls something possessive against your lips.

But at the same time, you can ruin him with a single touch. It’s unfair how well you know him, how just dragging your nails down his spine can turn him into putty.

He hates it, he loves it. And he’ll make sure you pay for it later.

Frank talks a lot. He’s always running his mouth, always cursing, always vocal.

Whether he’s growling complaints about how you’re too fucking calm or moaning shamelessly when you do something that feels too good, it’s constant.

And you? You just smirk. Because you love making him eat his words.

[peace-hunter]

Hi! I love your Ghost Primes with Optimus AU! It’s so good.

I have a question though, do the Decepticons know that Optimus can see the 13 prime ghosts or do they just get increasingly confused each time they fight?

Thank you for the lovely artwork!!

oh they Know something funky is going on for sure lmao

a little more serious answer: they can tell something is going on with optimus and they desperately want to pretend it's not. they don't want to know how he's aware of things he shouldn't be, how he knows stuff that should have long been forgotten, how he seems to be more familiar with them than he should be. how sometimes he speaks and it's like the dead are talking through him. how sometimes he will answer to empty air and somehow they can just tell what he's responding to. who he is talking to.

they Know. and they really, really want to pretend they don't.

they already carry the guilt of failing them once. the idea of doing it once more is unbearable and they'd rather deceive themselves than face it. they'd rather their friends stay dead and gone than think of them seeing what they've become.

haunted au

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Do you ship Godwyn and Fortissax? (p.s I LOVE your art! It's amazing!)

i mean if it were the pre-DLC version where i drew him purely on vibe going with whatever was popular in the fandom at the time (cuz i didn't have an actual take on him yet)... yeah maybe?

but the current version im drawing with bracelets and different hairstyle, no, i don't.... because i have a specific interpretation of his relationship with Fortissax, they are at most just close friends to me (actually i don't even believe that because the DLC dragon quest really got me looking sideway at any human that got love from dragons...like why all of them require the dragons to sacrifice so much for some random person that gave them nothing in return leave those creatures alone holy shit at least Nameless King forsake everything to stand by the dragons' side)

[tadpolesonalgae]

If I shake my ass will you post a new cbmthy chap soon?

You're so adorable but unfortunately I'm in a bit of a funk with cbmthy, particularly because the way the next three chapters are planned out, they wouldn't suit being split up into 7k word parts like the chapters usually are :/

I feel strongly that summer court should be available to read all in one time so you don't have to wait and especially so the flow won't be interrupted?

There's going to be some amazing experiences for reader in getting to visit 'abroad', explore new flora and fauna, and experience the different way fae/faeries live in the mountains, but I imagine chapter 25 will have to deal with the brunt of her grief and I'm finding that difficult at the moment 😔

If it were just reader travelling with Azriel it would be much easier, but skipping over the loss reader is feeling would feel cheap to me? And I want to write this story well 🧡💛

[bittybeanie]

oh boy! time to post a new fic! I can't believe it's been *checks calendar* ....oh. uh. oops. ignore that! it's the fourth and final installment of (this) aspec reigen series, complete with a lite™ version of a couple different kinks and finally getting to touch the peen! this one's real long, folks, clocking in at about 9,500 words, so you might wanna get a nice beverage and settle in.

content notes: thigh riding, themes of consent, drunk almost sex, a discussion about the drunk almost sex in the following scene, praise kink, a very loose (literally) definition of bondage, and so so many pet names. minors please don't interact!

also on ao3!

It takes more than a couple tries for you to get settled on the bed. You’re too close, then too far, and Reigen can’t get comfy, and your hand keeps sliding out from under you, and he can’t decide how he wants your leg angled, and there’s too many clothes, then all at once so few clothes that it feels like too much at once and you hastily agree to put your shirts back on, not wanting to break the already fragile layer of quiet hope.

Finally, finally, everything is perfect.

Awkward, stilted, and a little tense, and you’re not sure how long your leg will let you keep it just barely raised like this before it cramps up, but he’s here, embarrassed but steadfast, breath coming out in shivery gasps, hovering over your thigh, one hair fisted in the back of your hair. If he tips over, there’s no way you’re not going with.

Perfect.

His thighs shake as he holds himself up, deciding which direction he wants to move. You reach for the small of his back to steady him. "Does this count as keeping my hands out of the way?" He nods, so you test the waters by sliding your other hand up his thigh.

"As long you don’t- just no direct touching. Close to is fine, just not… well." He moves a hand back and forth across where he’s hovering over your thigh.

“Keep off the goods. Gotcha."

"The goods? Awful. You're awful, I swear."

You slide your hand up, just barely skimming your fingernails over his hip when you catch the hem of his shirt, and his cock twitches in his boxers.

"The goods don't seem to agree."

"Oi." Despite his protests, the laughter loosens him, and he relaxes enough to lean back into your knee. “Fine, fine, just stop saying goods.”

“Alright.” He raises an eyebrow. You lift both hands in surrender. “I promise! I will never again use ‘the goods’ to refer to your perfect, gorgeous, suckable-”

“I get it! I get it.” He grabs onto your shoulder - maybe in an effort to distract you, or maybe just to keep his balance - as he shifts closer. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his ears. “Here, actually, can you-? Hm.” He presses a hand against the inside of your other leg, thumb digging in as he gives a shove. He slides a knee into the newly free space between your legs, leaning forward to get a better angle. Your hands settle back on his waist.

“Better?”

“Much.” He lets out a little hum as he pushes his hips forward, and you have to stamp down a whimper at the feeling, his dick heavy and warm even through fabric.

“Didn’t mean to just push like that, though. Sorry.”

“S’okay. I’ll survive a little manhandling, as a treat.” You hit the last “t” sound with a click of your tongue, and he falls into your neck with a laugh. You trace patterns on his hips as he moves, tracking the motion as you press your fingers into his skin. “God, how do you get your hips to move that smooth? It’s sorta mesmerizing.”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, I’m just- I wasn’t thinking about it. S’just what f- ha, feels good.” His breath fans out across your collarbone, warm and fast.

“Yeah? You like using my thigh, baby? No thoughts other than what feels good? Your own personal toy to get yourself off against?”

“Oi.” His hips stutter once before he falls back into a slower rhythm. His fingers dig into your shoulder as he pulls you closer.

“Too much?”

“That’s not how I think of you.”

You can’t help but laugh, a light chuckle coming out in a breath against his hair. “I know, ‘Taka, I know.” You slide your hands under his shirt, over his stomach and up to his collarbone. “But would it really be so bad to belong to you?”

“I- fuck.” There’s a moment of worry when he shoves you away, but then he’s scrambling for the hem of his shirt and pulling.

“Are you sure?” It’s a formality, uttered even as you’re already reaching to help slide the fabric over his elbows, but it’s one you can’t even imagine going without.

“Very.” He lifts himself off of you to push his boxers down, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he shimmies them all the way off. The mattress shifts and pitches him over, and you hurry to grab his arm.

He crawls back over to straddle your thigh, the tip of his cock tapping lightly against your side before he leans back onto his ankles.

“Do I need to get-?” You chuck his shirt into infinity and gesture vaguely to the bedside drawer. He’s technically never told you that he started keeping lube in there, but he hasn’t made much effort to keep the secret either.

He shakes his head. “I’m close. Won’t matter.”

He tries to go back to rutting against you, anchoring his hands on your waist to tilt his hips this way and that, but something about the new angle is off, and he can’t get any good contact.

“Oh no, now horrible, your dick is just so hard it won’t stay down on its own.”

He clicks his tongue at you as he scoots to sit closer, flush making its way from his ears to the edges of his cheeks.

“That gorgeous curve probably isn’t helping, either. In this case, anyway. Be an absolute treat to have inside me, though.” You press your thumbs in just above his knees, encouraging him to spread his legs more, and he jumps with a squeak, hands flying to grab yours. “Sorry, sorry, di-”

“No, it’s-” He pulls your hands together, just in front of his stomach, and the tip of his cock brushes against you. For a moment, you think he’s going to pull down, but he guides your hands back to his hips, pressing them into his skin as he rolls his hips. “Here.”

He gives up and puts his hand flat over his dick, pinning it down against your leg. He lifts himself to adjust the angle, just his tip dragging along your skin until he bumps into your hip, precum rolling out in a thin line over your thigh. When he pulls back, he grinds down insistently, coating his length and covering what isn’t already marked of your thigh so he can slide more easily. After a few impatient jolts of his hips, he settles back into a rhythm, smooth and fluid, and lets up on the pressure of his hand. He slings his other arm over your shoulder to pull you closer, and he falls forward to bury his face in your neck, whining into your collarbone.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was close, because it only takes a few drags of his cock against you for him to seize up, body tensing before going boneless, cum rolling over his hand and onto your hip as he slumps against you in a mess of pants and sighs. You slide your hands up his back to support his full weight, pressing kisses to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Just… gimme a second, I can cl- get you- god, my legs.” He rolls off of you with none of his usual grace, limbs falling everywhere at once, lightly smacking your arm as he goes limp.

You laugh and push his hair back from his face. You don’t bother to untangle your legs from his, accepting your fate of needing a shower later in exchange for getting to lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Eh, let it dry.”

“I’m starting to think you like it more than tolerate it.”

“If you haven’t gotten the hint by now that I want you to absolutely cov-”

He gives you a shove, rolling his hand so there’s no real force behind it, but you seize the chance to topple with a dramatic moan, one hand falling theatrically across your forehead as your eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh, stop it.” He crawls over and props himself up on his elbows. You can feel his breath fanning over your collarbone, stilted like he’s trying not to laugh. You crack one eye open, breaking into giggles when you see his forced serious expression, eyebrows pinched together and one cheek sucked into his mouth to keep the smile off his face. He breaks at your laughter, breathing out through his nose and pressing his forehead to yours. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Oh, you could take me anywhere, handsome.” You waggle your eyebrows suggestively, and he rolls onto his back with an exasperated groan. You laugh again and sit up, pulling a blanket over him so you can settle in without accidentally brushing somewhere he’d rather you didn’t.

“Hey, Arataka?”

“I love you, too.”

“That, too.” You chuckle. “But I have a real question this time.”

“Oh.” He turns his head. “Sure.”

“After you… when you took my hands earlier, were you…?” The fleeting moment of contact between him and your hands floats through your mind. You can’t help but wonder what he was thinking in the moment he hesitated, but it feels weirdly invasive to ask so bluntly. “Sorry, never mind, this is a weird line of thought.”

You lay down beside him, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together as his thumb smooths up your wrist.

“Do you mean…” He takes a steadying breath, grip tightening almost imperceptibly. “Do you mean after the clothes came off?”

You nod. For a moment, he stills, not even breathing.

“I was… I wanted so badly to let you touch me. I thought if I didn’t have to say it, if I could just… imply, then I could get around it, but,” he sighs heavily, and he sounds tired when he continues, “I panicked.”

You’re both quiet, long enough that you startle even yourself when you finally break the silence.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“...Panicking?”

“No, angel. Implying.” He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “Maybe you just have to imply for a little longer.”

“I’m not following.”

“What if you left your hand on top of mine? That way it’s like- it’s the same as when you do it, but it sort of, hm, bridges the gap? All the sexy, none of the surprise.”

For a long moment, you’re not sure if he’s quiet because he’s thinking or because he’s falling asleep.

He hums, shoulder rolling under your head, and he pulls you tighter against his side.

+

"Okay." You shift nervously, tucking your foot underneath yourself, then deciding against it and unfolding your legs. "Walk me through the zones again."

"I'm not a city planning map." He rolls his eyes, but he takes your hand. You’re not sure which one of you the gesture is supposed to comfort.

You shift back onto your knees.

"Here up, anything goes." He points at the middle of his chest. "But try to stay- so more like, well, from maybe..." He gestures to his collarbone and wags his finger up and down. "Here to here, really."

When he looks back at you, you can tell he's waiting for something. You settle for a small nod.

"Right. A-and then, here to here," he points from his chest to just above his hip, "Hands are fine. Doing... whatever." He steadies himself with another deep breath and rushes through the rest. "Legs, stay still, and anything... direct we'll do the- on the- yeah, got it, that's all."

You let him sit for a moment to make sure there's nothing he forgot. His grip on your hand tightens, and you swear he moves to pull you closer, but he must decide against it at the last second.

"Whose hand is going on top again? Sorry, we've swapped it so many times I can't remember if we decided."

"Oh. Right. Um." He hovers his right hand over his left, then swaps them, then swaps them again. “Yours under mine.”

“Got it.” You reach for him, letting him pull your hand up to his collar. "And you know you can tell me to stop at any time?"

"You tell me that every time."

"It's important every time."

He swallows thickly and traces a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Yeah. I know."

You shift to pull your legs off to the side, then cross them again, then sit back up on your knees. Gently taking the collar of his shirt in your hands, you trail one thumb along the edge of the fabric until you reach the top button. "And can I do this, or would you like to?"

He nods before realizing there were two options in your question, then points at you, then at your hands, then flashes you a thumbs up. "Yeah. Go ahead."

"Well, now hold on, I have manners. I'm not going straight for the goods." He laughs and shimmies to sit up straighter, letting his legs straighten out in front of him. "How about the pants later?"

"Uh, right, that's, I didn't think about that. I mean it would make sense that you're going to be- I mean it's not like-"

"Arataka."

"Yeah." He swallows.

"I'm not going to be offended if you’d like to take off your own pants."

He pauses, staring down at his knee. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I want you to do it."

"And your-?"

"Just do it at the same time."

"Got it." You take a steadying breath of your own. "I won't stay there, but is it okay if I straddle you for a little bit? I wa-"

His hands are pulling at your waist before you can get your legs properly unfolded, and you almost tumble over him. He laughs an apology as you move on top of him, hovering over his legs to avoid making any real contact.

You brush his bangs back from his face, following through with the motion until your fingers tangle in the shorter strands of hair at the back of his head. He tilts to follow your hand, craning his neck to keep you from pulling.

"Ready?"

He nods slightly.

"I’d like a verbal yes for this one, lovely."

He swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yeah, yes.” He nods again. His hand jerks, taking yours with it, and he awkwardly lets your hand fall into his lap. You do your best not to move. “I trust you."

You drag your gaze back up to his face, searching for any last signs of reluctance. A bead of sweat trails down his temple, and you’re certain if you put your hand to his cheek you’d worry he had a fever. Sure enough, when you slide your fingers along his jaw, he’s hot to the touch, and the tips of his ears are turning brighter shades of red by the second.

He clears his throat, pushing his jaw into your palm. “Are you gonna-?”

“In a minute.” You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m savoring.”

He scoffs at that, the same scoff he uses when he sees somebody do something stupid in public, and you take the opportunity to catch him by surprise, surging forward to push him down onto the bed. His hands go to your shoulders on instinct but he pulls them back almost immediately, hovering awkwardly in the space between you. Using your grip on his chin, you angle his head so you can lean down and kiss him without knocking your noses together.

Once you’re sure you can support yourself without falling on him, you allow your free hand to trail down, tracing down the muscles in his neck, across his collarbone and back, finally settling on the first button of his shirt. It takes a little effort to get it undone with just one hand, but you manage it, and you allow yourself to dip down as you settle into a rhythm, lips ghosting along Reigen’s skin as you uncover more of it.

He’s shivering, hand shaking where it hovers over yours on the last button of his shirt. When you slide your hand back up along his side, his hand falls back to the bed, pulling at a wrinkle in the sheets.

You kiss along his jaw, savoring the feeling every time his breath catches in his throat under your lips. Your hand trails down along his side, wrapping around him to hold his waist when he arches up into the press of your thumb. He hums, eyelids fluttering, and you dare to slide your hand down, ever so slightly, thumb brushing over his waistband and back onto bare skin.

He grabs for you, grasp tight around your wrist, almost painful before he slowly relaxes and drags your hand back up toward his chest. You push yourself off him, swinging your leg to kneel beside him.

“Here, let’s try this.” You guide him to sit up. Once he’s situated against the headboard, you settle in by his thigh, your knee pressing gently into his hip. One hand traces circles and patterns as you trail down to his stomach. “Still good?”

He hums, but he scrambles for your wrist again, holding on tighter and tighter the closer you get to the button on his pants.

“You’re allowed to change your mind, y’know. I can let you do it.”

“That’s not- mm.” He relaxes his death grip on your arm but keeps his thumb hooked around it. After a few tries to let go completely, his head tips forward into your shoulder. “I thought I would… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and slowly pull away. “Nothing to apologize for.” You cup his face with both hands and gently turn him, but he doesn’t hold your gaze for long. 

“Do you want to keep going? Should I…?”

He opens his mouth, but says nothing. His expression is pinched, tight with something you’re not sure how to label. His fingers press together, thumb and index, thumb and middle, thumb and ring, thumb and pinky, over and over as you lean back, nodding softly.

“Stay in bed?” Your voice is shakier than you’d like. You swear he flinches, and you clear your throat. “Or move to the couch and watch something?”

“Couch.” He nods once, stiff and harsh, and swallows thickly. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and slides out of bed, starting to button his shirt back up as he wanders into the other room.

You keep nodding as if in a trance, and you follow him out. 

+

Despite the now faint memory of some friend of a friend forcefully inviting you, there's not a single soul at the party you recognize. With the exception of a few people dancing by the kitchen, closer to the speakers, everyone has settled for taking a seat and awkwardly bobbing their head. You’ve repeated the same three lines of small talk more times than you can count, it's just cold enough that you've had the chills the whole time while still managing to feel overwhelmingly stifled, and the music is so awful you wonder how somebody hasn’t tried to change it yet. But there's alcohol, the good stuff that somebody is clearly very particular about, and lots of it. You can't remember how much you've had, and that fact is enough to tell you it was probably too much, but it doesn't stop you from taking whatever the host is passing out when they wander through.

You think Reigen might be the only person doing worse than you. He looks... woozy. His face is flushed and his eyes are lidded like he might throw up, pass out, or both at any moment. At one point he took a tumble when he tried to sit down, graciously ignored by everyone else, and you had to throw your arm around his waist to keep him from sliding down the front of the couch again. He's leaning on you for support every time he moves, and if there were anything left in his can you’re sure he would be spilling it on you right now.

He's restless at the best of times, you know this, but even through the fog you can tell something is off. Not wrong exactly, but he keeps giving you this sideways glance, digging his fingers into your thigh to steady himself and then yanking his hand away, knocking his head into your shoulder and muttering something you haven't been able to make out.

He laughs - way too loudly at something you're not sure was supposed to be funny - and stands abruptly. Your hand around his waist falls limp on the couch, and he sways without the support.

"I'm going to the re- the ba- I gotta piss."

Nobody but you pays him any attention. He takes a wobbly step forward, knocking his foot into the leg of the coffee table, but he doesn't seem fazed. His knees bend at a weird angle as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, then he straightens back up and whirls around to face you. The momentum sends him tumbling back down, and you manage to catch him before his nose smashes into your jaw.

"I guess you better help me there."

"Yeah." Your voice crackles from dehydration. You have to clear your throat and try again to get a recognizable sound to come out. "Alright." You do a quick mental scan of your legs to make sure they'll support you before you motion for him to get up so you can stand. He does, grabbing your wrist and pulling with the conviction of somebody who does not need help walking.

The gears in your head start to turn.

He drags you along, glancing over his shoulder as he rounds the corner into the hallway, only stumbling once when he has to screech to a halt and back up to yank a door open. He pushes you inside, pulling the door closed behind him after he follows you in.

It's pitch black, and you're not sure if the overwhelming lemon smell is coming from Reigen or something in the room. You reach out to find him, but your fingers brush against something cold and smooth instead, and it's not until it tilts and hits you in the head that you realize it's probably a handle for something. Reigen's hand whacks into your arm and he holds on tight, fingers digging into your shoulder as he pulls you forward.

"I don't think that was the right door."

"Hm? Oh, sure." You can feel the air beside you moving until eventually his other hand finds your face, one finger dragging across your cheek until it hits your nose. "No, I- yeah, I know."

"Then wh-"

He pushes, hard and sudden. You fight to keep your balance as you adjust to the weird backwards lean you find yourself in. Reigen hisses as he pulls his fingers out from between you and the wall.

"Dumb, that was so dumb. Sorry." He fumbles for your waist to guide you backwards, and you feel his hips press against you when he reaches past your head to lean on the wall.

Everything clicks together all at once.

Your hands fly to where his waist should be. Once you find him, you're not sure if you want to shove him away or pull him in closer.

"You're super drunk. I don't know if-"

"Tha's the point." The hand on your face slides around until his thumb catches your bottom lip. He sways, like talking about it has made him remember how much he's had to drink. When he leans against you, he's heavier than normal, like he can’t support his weight anymore. "Liquid courage."

"I’m drunk." 

"Mm. Shit." He pulls away, just barely, and he nods. "Do you mind?"

Your mouth drops open uselessly. All your thoughts feel like static, indecipherable noise screaming for you to do something, if only you could figure out what. He's squirming now, like it hurts to stay still. You realize he's whimpering at the same time you realize he's grinding his hips against your leg.

“M’fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and drops his hands as he shuffles around. You take the chance to stand back up. When you finally bump into each other again, he wraps his arms around you and squeezes, his breathing coming out in pants against your chest.  He hooks one leg around yours, tapping his foot against your heel to bring your leg forward. You make a strangled humming sound when he grinds against your thigh.

"Hey, where's your hand?"

"My...?" You suddenly remember you have hands. You allow yourself a moment of silence for all the time you could have been holding onto him before you push one hand forward. It smacks into what you think is his stomach. "Sorry. Here."

"S'kay. Stay put." You keep your hand pressed against him as he leans backward. You're not sure when he stopped holding onto you, but one of his hands is suddenly over yours, and a loud zip cuts through the sound of you both breathing. He slides his hand down, dragging yours with it. Your fingers glide along his skin, smooth and soft, until you brush against a patch of hair.

A sobering panic cuts through you.

He must realize what he's doing at the same time you do, because you both freeze. His grip tightens. He guides your hand away from him slowly, stopping when he makes contact with your side.

"Stay... stay put."

He turns and scrambles for the door. Something falls beside you when he misses the doorknob, then you're squinting as light floods in from the hallway. You can make out the silhouette of him sprinting into the room diagonal from where you're standing, and then there's the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Your place is only two blocks away - no more than a ten minute walk.

You call a cab service.

+

It smells like coffee.

When you try to sit up, the room spins. You end up in a sort of half sit, half lean as you grab onto the side of the mattress, willing everything to stay still. You take stock of the things that are clear enough to look at, slowly making sense of what happened once you got home.

You're laying on top of the covers, still in your clothes from last night. One shoe is in the doorway, and the other is nowhere in sight, probably somewhere closer to the entrance. The coffee smell, growing more enticing by the second, is a good sign Reigen's in the kitchen.

You slide onto the floor beside your bed, not trusting yourself to stand up without falling just yet, to rummage for more comfortable clothes. Once you manage to get changed, you stand up slowly, and make your way to the kitchen.

Reigen must have grabbed a set of pajamas at some point last night, though you can't remember when. His back is turned to you; he's lazily stirring something on the stove. Two steaming cups of coffee sit on the counter beside him. Before you can decide whether you want to say something and risk startling him, he seems to sense you standing there, and he turns around with a weak smile.

"Hey."

"Morning?" It's both a greeting and a question, because you have no idea what time it is.

"Yeah." He lets out a breathy chuckle. "How, um, how you feeling?"

Your head is throbbing so bad your teeth hurt, your legs and back are sore, and you have a looming sense of guilt.

"I think I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine, really." He clicks off the fire and reaches for a bowl. "I told you, I felt basically back to normal after I- well, um, you know. Thanks again, by the way, for car- for carrying me."

You nod softly, feeling a little useless as he hands you what looks and smells like a very delicious soup.

"Reigen, I am so-" "I didn't mean-"

He reaches for a second bowl. "You first." When you start to shake your head, he rolls his wrist in a "go on" motion. "Please. I'm not actually sure how to say mine yet."

"Right." You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your spoon. Deep in thought, you miss Reigen slipping past you. He clears his throat and gestures to the seat across from him. You slide into the chair. Your spoon clanks against the bowl as you set it down. "I, um. Shit, I'm so sorry."

He seems surprised, a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips.

"What for?"

"Wh-" You blink. "Every... thing? I- I know sorry doesn't even cover it, but I-"

"Whoa, hey, okay." He shakes his hand in front of him. "Never mind, I'll go first, because I think you got the wrong idea and I'm not gonna let you apologize for anything that happened."

"But you trusted me, and I-"

"And I still do. That's- that was the whole- look, I-" He sighs. His spoon clanks as he sets it down, abandoned in favor of wringing his hands together. "I set you up."

"You-?"

"I didn't mean to! I thought- It was stupid, and I should have just told you what I was trying to do, I know , but I- I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and I thought if I could speed up the process, then- I mean, there's only so many times you can put up with almost getting to- if I could- ugh, sorry, hang on."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You swear your headache is reacting sympathetically, because pain shoots between your temples, dull but persistent. He goes to retrieve the coffees from the kitchen, just cool enough to drink, and you down some as soon as he hands you a mug.

"You've been so patient, and I know you would never do anything I didn't want, but I... I keep overthinking it. And I thought it would be the perfect excuse to... to not have to think about it at all. I mean that's- that's just what people do at parties, right, and- I mean, it was... ugh." He sits back down, his posture unnaturally rigid. He chooses his next words carefully, pausing between words as if he’s testing out different sentences in his head. "I trusted you… to not take it further than I was comfortable with… more than I trusted myself to… not panic over nothing. So, I- I saw the chance and I..." He gestures weakly, hand falling back to the table with a soft thump.

"Liquid courage."

He takes a sip of his coffee and slumps forward, holding his chin with one hand.

"You... got drunk on purpose?"

"Not originally, but, uh."

You nod slowly. Your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven't actually eaten any of your soup. You take a reluctant spoonful, chewing slowly as you take everything in.

"When you froze up, it- I realized how little I had thought it through. I- it wasn't fair to you. You didn't do anything to- I never should have put you in that position in the first place."

"I... would have appreciated a warning, yeah."

"Sorry." He runs his hand through his hair and leaves it against the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted." Reigen relaxes into his chair. As he stretches his legs out, one of his feet bumps against your ankle, and you laugh softly. "I'm still sorry, too. I should have asked more questions. And I didn't... I think I noticed something was wrong but I didn’t realize it was that frustrating for you. Before, I mean. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do something like that."

"It's exclusively a me problem, I promise. I thought something would have worked by now. I don't... I don't really know what’s getting in the way." He shakes his head, breathing out sharply through his nose.

“I mean, literally speaking, your hands.” You laugh and take another sip of your coffee. He tilts his head. “Because, you know, y-you always grab my hand before I-?” He stares, unblinking. “Sorry, too soon to joke, probably,” you mutter into your cup, taking another sip just to have something to do.

When he moves again, it’s with a jerky start, sitting up and leaning forward. “My hands.”

“Yeah, I-”

“No, my hands.” He throws his elbows onto the table. The bowls clatter and his coffee sloshes; his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. His wrists come together in front of you, palms up and fingers curled loosely, as he stares, silent, waiting for a glimpse of recognition to cross your face. It takes a moment, but when he finds it, he grins. “My hands.”

“If you want to stop-”

“Saying so has always been enough.”

You stand, leaning to match his eye level. You consider him, searching for hesitation, but you find none.

You take his hand, and you start pulling.

+

“This is… mine?” An old black tie lays across Reigen’s palms, the ends hanging loosely over his thighs.

“Yeah, you left it here. A while ago, I guess.” You shrug. “You never really liked it, though, plus you’re here all the time anyway, so I didn’t get around to giving it back, and it’s just been here ever since.”

As you slide the drawer closed, he catches a glimpse of an old t-shirt he left on his first night in your place, folded neatly in the back corner, under a small collection of his dress socks. 

There are signs of him everywhere, really, if he looks. His toothbrush in your bathroom, a blanket he bought you for your birthday draped over the back of the couch, his favorite sweater of yours hanging on the handle of the closet, never out of service long enough to make it in with the rest of your clothes.

He’s struck with the realization it’s not just in your things, your home, but in you, the way you gesture with an extra dramatic flourish that wasn’t there before, the unwavering, tight smile that settles on your face when you talk to clients, the softness in your voice when you welcome the kids into the office, quietly clearing a table for them to do homework on, the flashes of movement in the kitchen as you dash back and forth whenever you make recipes he taught you - favorites from when things were harder and uncertain and cooking was his escape, before even the hardest parts of his life were laced with joy.

He’s wearing off on you.

He’s known it for a while, but he’s never put it all together like this, never seen it all so neatly represented in a single black tie, satin and unassuming and full of possibility. You kick your abandoned shoe out of the way, pushing the door shut with a soft click that startles him just enough to draw his attention.

“Still okay?”

He wonders how you’ve worn off on him, which parts of him weren’t there before that he doesn’t notice, can’t notice.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m ready.”

He smooths his thumb over the fabric, watching it wrinkle and crease where he applies pressure. It slides across his palms, dragging slowly as you wrap one end around your hand, until he’s left with empty air, hands outstretched between you.

He feels light.

You take his hands in yours, turning them in toward each other, and start to lay the tie across his wrists.

“Oh, wait!” You pull back right away, and he holds up one finger. “Not- we should take my shirt off first.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You laugh and settle back onto your knees. “Yes, okay, let’s- yeah.”

Reigen stops halfway up. The fabric stays bunched when he lets go, and he pulls your hands to the exposed patch of skin. He can feel the tie, still wrapped around your palm, pressing against his side, cold and smooth, and he swallows thickly. As you drag your hands up, it slides up with you, and a shiver wracks through him when you finally pull the shirt off his arms.

He cups your face, pulling you into a kiss, fingers coming to press at the back of your neck to keep you against him as he topples backward. You catch yourself on one hand, the end of the tie flipping to rest over his shoulder as you climb to straddle him. He’s insistent, both hands tangling in your hair, little sighs and puffs of breath against your mouth as he refuses to pull away for air.

You press a kiss to his cheek to soothe the loss when you lean back. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, locking his fingers together behind your head.

“We could stay like this? My hands are… close-ish together.”

“I can’t see behind me to tie it, but,” you pull his hands around your head, “I’m sure we can figure it out after that.”

He nods. You turn his hands back toward each other and his fingers curl, knuckles pressing together as he relaxes. You drape the tie around his wrists, trying a few different ways of looping it but not finding anything you’re satisfied with.

“Sorry. I just wanna make sure you can get out if you need.”

“It’s alright. I like the attention.”

You freeze, a wobbly grin taking shape as your face heats up.

“‘Taka, I’m supposed to be the composed one!”

“I’m just trying to be honest!” He flexes his wrists, pressing his knuckles together to crack them.

“Don’t worry,” you press both ends of the tie between his hands and motion for him to hold them still, “I like giving you attention.” You fold the middle of the tie over to make two loops and start twisting them in on themselves. “And I wanna hear about it as much as you can bear.”

“You seem plenty composed to me.” He pinches his thumb between two fingers and squeezes.

“Quick recovery. I learned from the best.” You wink and put your fingers through the loops. “Here, hands in here.”

He flattens his hands to squeeze them through, stopping to let you shimmy the tie the rest of the way over. You hold the ends of the tie and give a quick tug before tying them together.

“There, it’ll have to do.” You slip a finger in each loop, making sure there’s enough room to be comfortable without him being able to slip out without meaning to. “It’s a little loose, so don’t pull too hard, okay?”

“Sure.” He folds his elbows down, letting his hands come to rest on his chest. He jerks one hand up toward his hair, pulling his other hand with it, and the tie snaps taut. He has the courtesy to look sheepish. “I’ll try.”

You roll your eyes, smile still wide.

“Hands above your head, please.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to get at your neck.” You press up on his elbows, and he unfolds his arms. “Those were in the way.”

“O-oh. Right.”

You lean down, tilting his chin up with one hand, and press a kiss to his throat, savoring the way it moves as he swallows. You trail down until you reach his stomach, dragging your tongue along his skin on the way back up. He exhales sharply, breath moving your hair as you get closer to his face. He forces out a laugh, and he rolls one shoulder.

You glance up. The tie is already starting to come loose, untwisting in the middle, but his hands are clasped together, the tie held in place between his wrists, fingers over the ends.

You kiss him, quick and breathless, and slip your fingers under his waistband. When his breath hitches, you smooth your thumb along the bone there, a reassurance you won’t move yet. You can feel him tense under you, pressing up into your touch, then slowly settling back onto the mattress.

You’re both reluctant to acknowledge the fact that you have to get off of him to take his pants off. You do your best to shimmy them under you, and he lifts his hips to help, but you need both hands to make sure his boxers stay on for now, and you want to make sure he can move his legs, so eventually, begrudgingly, you climb off him.

He takes the opportunity to stretch, his back arching off the bed as you throw his pants off somewhere to worry about later.

“Ooh, pretty. Think you can do that for me again?” You press a thumb to the inside of his thigh, at the edge of where his boxer leg has ridden up, and he jumps, hips rolling against your touch.

“Trickery.” He squirms, a whine that refuses to come out shining through in his voice. “Not fair.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more chances.” You trail your fingers up his thigh, along the “v” of the bone, up his stomach. He shivers when you trail back down, your fingers catching on the waistband of his boxers to drag it over his skin before letting go, settling your hand lightly over the bulge in the fabric. It’s slightly damp against your skin, and Reigen chokes back a moan when you press down. 

You pull, grinding your palm down on his cock as the waistband moves until you can see the base of it, then you slide back up, tracing the outline of him with your fingers. When he whimpers, you’re too slow to hide your grin, and he glares halfheartedly.

“Having fun down there?”

“Oh, lots, thanks.” You slip your thumb below the elastic. “Seems like you are, too.”

“Hm.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You lift your hand with mock alarm, and he scrambles to reach for you, slowly lowering his arms to his chest when he sees your smile.

“Yes.”

“So, just to make sure, you are having fun?” It’s just as sarcastic as it is serious, and he seems to take it in equal measures, because he scoffs at the same time he nods. Both hands are on his hips now, both thumbs in his waistband, and you pull up gently to get him to lift his hips.

“Good boy.”

You’re not sure you would have felt it if you weren’t holding him, but he definitely shudders, trembling where your fingers press into his skin.

“Arataka.”

“Hmm?” He sounds breathless, and his chest heaves with effort, the rest of him as still as he can keep it.

“Should I keep calling you a good boy?”

“Um. If you want.” He jerks his hips up, and you take the hint to slide his boxers off, keeping an eye on his face as you do. You climb between his legs and lean over him, wrapping your hand slowly around his cock, firmly but gently, your thumb over the tip.

He squeaks, and he tenses, but he doesn’t reach for your hands.

“You’re doing so well, ‘Taka.” He swallows, and he shifts his hands, twisting the tie so he can lay his arms closer to his hair. “Such a good boy for me.” Precum oozes out of his slit, and you feel it roll down your hand.

“Mhm.” You lean back on your heels. “How about this? You tell me what feels good, and every time you do,” you pull your thumb down, spreading the precum along his length, “I’ll let you know just how much I appreciate it. Sound good?”

He nods, and you stop moving.

“Can I hear you say it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his wrists together, “yes, sounds good.”

“Good job.” When you lean to kiss him, grip tightening to keep his dick down against his stomach, his knuckles brush over your hair. “So perfect.”

You start slow, focusing more on touching every inch of him then keeping any sort of rhythm. When you trail up the vein on the underside, he shivers, and he gasps when you squeeze the base, and his hips jerk up when you pass over his slit, one leg coming up to press his ankle against your side. It’s not until you slip your other hand around him, though, arm passing through the space created by the bend of his knee to settle on his outer thigh, that he says anything.

“Fuck, that, more of that. P-please.”

“This hand?” You press your fingers into his thigh. He presses back.

“Yeah. I need… just, hold onto me.”

“Okay. Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You scoot closer to wrap your hand tighter around his leg, spreading your legs to slip your knee underneath him. Once he relaxes, the full weight of his leg on yours, you press a kiss to his knee. “Good boy.”

“Shit,” he laughs, squirming closer to you. “S’not close enough.”

“Let me try something, then.” You slide backwards, reluctantly letting his leg fall to the bed, and you shimmy onto your stomach. When you pull his leg over your shoulder, he immediately hooks his ankle into your back and lets out a breathy moan. The pressure makes it a little harder to reach back around his thigh, but he relaxes into it easier, and the view is incredible. “There you go, perfect.”

You start up a little faster this time, twisting your wrist as you move up and down, and he bucks up into your hand. You risk a kiss to his thigh and his hands fly to your hair, the ends of the tie flowing down against your cheek.

“Sorry, too much?”

“Not enough.” His voice is scratchy now, and he gives a little tug once he gets a hold of you. “Can you, don’t put it- but, closer?”

“You want me here instead?” You press a kiss to the underside of his cock, flipping the loose ends of the tie out of the way to lay across his hip.

“Y-yes. Yes, fuck.”

“Gladly.” Between words, you pepper kisses along his shaft, following the trail of your hand up and down. “Thank you for letting me do this for you. You look so beautiful like this, feeling so good.”

He starts to make a noise of protest, but it quickly shifts into a stifled groan when you press a kiss to his tip, just barely letting your tongue drag across his slit as you pull away.

He whines and bucks his hips to follow you, and you can’t help but let an incredulous laugh slip out. “Alright, love, I’m gonna give you a choice, okay?”

He swallows thickly, then nods.

“Option one, you can tell me exactly how you want me to make you come. If you want my hand or my mouth or to go faster or slower or anything at all you just have to say the word. But I won’t do anything you don’t tell me, so you’ll have to say exactly what you want.”

His breathing is ragged, and he twitches in your grasp. “And option two?”

You grin and lean over him, propping yourself up on one hand. “I do whatever makes you the loudest, and if you stop making those pretty noises for me, I stop.” He seems to flinch at that, and you brush his hair back. “Just for a little while.”

He takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed, and he pulls his arms in and down to drape one across his forehead. The tie was never really secure in the first place, but after quite a bit of pulling and flailing, it’s fully undone by now, nothing but luck and stubborn determination holding the loops in place around Reigen’s wrists.

“Both options, of course, come with all sorts of praise and admiration.” You slip a finger under the fabric and give a light tug. He lifts his hands to let the tie slide free.

When he opens his eyes, a shudder running down his spine, he sees you absent-mindedly tying the tie around your neck, uneven and loose, hanging down between you to brush against his stomach. He’s sure you just needed somewhere to put it, something to do with your hands, but it flips a strangely possessive switch somewhere inside him. Not because he’s seeing you in his clothes - he’s had the privilege of that many times before - but because you’ve taken the thing that was supposed to restrain his ability to fuck up the situation, taken something he left safe for you to keep track of without even realizing he’d done it, taken the symbol of his presence in your space and your time and your life, and you’ve put it on without a second thought. He thinks of his misguided reasoning that got you into this situation, that he trusts you with him more than he trusts himself, and he knows what he wants.

For once, words are failing him, which just makes the choice even easier.

“Second one.”

Your eyebrows raise a little, like you’re surprised at his answer, and he almost takes it all back, but then you’re grinning and leaning down to cup his jaw, kissing him like he’s giving you the only air you could ever breathe, and he moans into your mouth.

You lean away just enough to pull in a gasp of air, fingers sliding to tangle into the base of his hair.

“Just like that, gorgeous.”

He laughs, sucking in a shaky breath as you wrap your hand around him again. It pinches into a sort of strained whimper as he starts to quiet himself and thinks better of it, and you start moving.

“That’s it, good boy, just let me take care of everything.”

For all he got into his head before, breaking the seal of touching him seems to have removed any last bits of hesitation, because he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. Your experimenting earlier left you with a good idea of what will get the best noises out of him, and he doesn’t hold back. You’re silently thankful, not only because you get to hear him, but also because you’re not sure you could have followed through on your threat of stopping. And if he’s exaggerating for your sake, all clipped moans and raspy mumbling and bucking hips, well, you’re not going to complain.

After a particularly tight stroke up his cock and a brush of teeth up the inside of his thigh, he pulls one arm over his mouth, pushing it against his lips with his other hand. You’re still deciding if that counts as muffling his sounds enough to slow down when he bites his wrist and yelps, a loud, desperate, frantic noise that seizes what little of your attention isn’t already on him. His head tips back as he struggles to prop himself up on one elbow, hand flipping to clamp down over his mouth, and you can see the bite mark, lines pressed into the pale skin just below the jut of bone where palm meets wrist. It takes you a minute to realize he’s saying something, your brain struggling to piece his noises together into words.

“Can I have your hand?” You hum, scrambling to extract your hand from his leg. “I just- I need,” he opens and closes his hands, “something.” When you hold your hand up blindly toward him, he takes it quickly and holds on tight, fingers lacing together with yours. He gives a few tugs, and you hurry to sit up.

“Please, I need- I can’t take it anymore.” He looks frantic, eyebrows pinched together and his chest heaving with ragged, shaky breaths. His hips buck wildly, quick and shallow into your curled fingers. You realize you’ve forgotten to keep moving as you were watching him, and you quickly correct your mistake, reveling in the shiver that racks through him as your thumb swipes over his tip.

He’s begging now, your name falling out in pieces between gasps and cries; he’s still tugging at your hand like you can’t get close enough, pressing his lips to your jaw like he can’t quite remember how to leave kisses there. He pitches his hips up and presses against you, knees coming together to press into your sides, pinning your hand against your torso as he lets out a final shuddering whimper.

He comes across your fingers, his whole body tense as he holds himself up, back arched and head rolled to the side. He moves to wrap his arms around you, forgetting that his elbow is supporting him, and he pulls you down with him as he falls the short distance to the mattress.

You do your best to roll off him without letting go of him during the aftershocks, but you’re not exactly paying attention to where you’re still holding, and he yelps again from the overstimulation. You yank your hand away with half an apology, smoothing your hand up his side as you lift yourself up on your other arm.

“Nono, wait, don’t-” He scrambles to grab you wherever he can, and you intercept him before he can smack you across the face.

“It’s okay, ‘Taka, s’okay. I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t wanna crush you. Let’s sit up so you can get some water, alright? All that noise can really make your throat sore, I know.” You slip your hands under him, one at the small of his back and one between his shoulders, gently lifting him toward the headboard. “That’s it. You’re okay. I gotcha.”

Once he’s upright, a glass of water in two shaky hands, you lean over the side of the bed to fumble for a washcloth. When he doesn’t slow down on his own, you start to reach for the glass, but he pulls away for a big gulp of air before you can.

“How you feelin’?”

He doesn’t answer right away, leaving you to fidget with the cloth, slowly reaching for his thigh. He lets his eyes slide closed as you start to wipe him off, smoothing an apologetic thumb over his hip when he hisses from the sensitivity. You wipe your hand on a mostly clean corner before you chuck it in the general direction of the hamper, silently relieved when it makes it in.

“I think I died.” His hands are still shaking as he goes to set the glass on your nightstand, and you gingerly take it from him, lifting yourself up to set it on the far corner where neither of you can accidentally knock it off later. “I understand you now.”

“You didn’t die, I promise.” You allow yourself a smirk and pull a blanket up from the end of the bed. “That’s high praise, though.”

“You’re high praise.”

“You’re the one that liked it so much.”

He rolls his eyes, too tired to argue. As you pull yourself up the bed to sit beside him, he leans over, one hand sliding behind you to rest on your hip. Now that he doesn’t have the distraction of everything else, you can tell he’s starting to think, because his ears are tinting pink and he’s fidgeting with a string on the edge of the blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to oblige.”

You scoop his hand into yours, leaving the blanket’s seams to live another day, and examine the bite mark on his wrist.

“I can’t believe I did that.” He scoffs, shaking his head a little as you turn his arm over. “The hell was I thinking?”

“Obviously you weren’t, which is both the point and very hot, so hush.” He turns away stubbornly, but he looks pleased. “You could probably say a spirit did it. Biting seems like an evil ghost thing to do, right?”

“With clearly human teeth?”

“Maybe it… stole them?”

He laughs, pulling away from your grip to get comfortable against your side. Just as you start to drift off, soothed by the sound of his breathing slowing and his weight settling on you as he relaxes, you feel his fingers walking down your hip, making their way to your thigh. You crack one eye open, and he looks away with obviously fake innocence.

“Where you going with that hand, darling?”

He smiles, bright and daring, as his fingers dig in. “Your turn?”

You consider it. You’re not quite capable of fully ignoring how turned on seeing him like this has made you. There’s a bit of nervous energy, buzzing over what’s left of your hangover, excitement, the joy that bubbles up in your chest at seeing him smiling at you like that, everything coming together in an overwhelming, swirling feeling of wanting whatever he will give you. But there’s something else, a calm undercurrent to it all, coating the emotion in quiet and directing it all back to a single point, solid and unwavering and right .

More than anything, you are content.

He sees your expression and laughs, must know what you’re going to say the moment you decide, because he mouths the words along with you as he pulls his hand back up to your hip.

“Maybe next time.”

[solarroseart]

Hello may I please humbly request that you draw Athena and Omega being cute together. That would make my day!!!

aSK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE!!!!

The only thing better than wrecking eggman's flimsy toys is having someone there who properly appreciates your handiwork :)

Getting rescued from an exploding ship is Athena's biggest dream scenario

(bonus under the cut)

who needs jets capable of flight when you have calves of (literal) steel?

[abyssal-ilk]

how are you liking Veilguard so far?

i'm liking it!! the environments are gorgeous, the combat is fun, i'm liking all of the companions we have been given, and it's just good to be playing another dragon age game after so long. it's definitely not a perfect game by any means but i'm taking my wins where i can. i'm having fun playing it even if i don't exactly love at a lot of the writing choices, and maybe i'll write out proper critiques when ive finished the game?? but for now im chilling.

[borealing]

gimme directors commentary on ur fav fic u have written

WELL it looks like i only published one fic off anon this year OOP (the pressure to write original fiction is huge) so it's this one!

head detective carlton lassiter is nothing like henry spencer

i always think i'm funnier than i am when i'm writing fic so when i get an idea where i'm like omg, i could write something funny, it's my achilies heel, i have to write it

Shawn puts his hands to his chest, offended. “I am just as delightful as both— either of your parents! I can charm anyone’s mother.” Gus gives him a deeply judgemental look. “Before or after you accuse them of a crime?”

i wrote this all in a haze so the jokes just came to me and i slammed as many in as possible in only 2.7k, it's like the spirit of the show took ahold of me

“Do you think he would treat me nicer than my dad?” Shawn asks. “That’s like asking if I think that being beaten up with a baseball bat is nicer than being shot.” Gus says. “So… yes.” “Yes, but not by much.” Gus says.

on reread all my best lines feature gus. he is truly the character of all time, unmatched

Shawn stares at him. “Have we body swapped?” Gus tsks. “Like I’d ever be caught in your pasty body.” Shawn blinks. “That’s the only reason we’ve never body swapped?”

this was so fun actually, maybe i should post more fic off anon lmao

[monkee-mobile]

okay random headcanon but peter likes to nuzzle with his nose!! he gets all smiley and snuggly and just nuzzles in!!

also the monkees set aside time in the day to snuggle, usually before they crash for bed. this probably starts sometimes in the 70s and continues as they get older

okay thank you bye!!!

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Please scream about Ghostbur to me.

Coming soon: me screaming about Halo

OKAY here goes nothing !!

Also this is one of my favorite gifs :)

ANYWAY! MOVING ON TO THE!! RAMBLE!!!

Okayokay I just recently had an epiphany in regards to Ghostbur + the rampant mischaracterization that the fandom gives to him, and the epiphany is this: Ghostbur is an extremely multi-faceted character.

That doesn’t sound too monumental on its own—well-written characters should be multi-faceted!—but with Ghostbur, I feel like it’s much more extreme… which also makes him more confusing.

It’s so freakin rare to find anyone who actually understands Ghostbur’s character & doesn’t wildly mischaracterize him/have a super strange idea of who he is, and for the longest time I couldn’t understand it! I chalked it up to fans being unable to actually look at his character and dig deeper, or only being able to see a very surface-level Ghostbur, but now I think it’s a little different than that :0

Ghostbur is a very complex little guy—which most people don’t realize! He’s mature but also childish, and he’s happy but also depressed, and he cares so deeply for everything but he also doesn’t value his own life, and he wants to die but he’s scared of death. It all sounds very contradictory, but if you understand his character then you realize it makes sense!

And I’m pretty darn certain that the reason fans misinterpret him so much is because they’re only paying attention to one of his many facets!! Rather than seeing All of Ghostbur’s facets and quirks, they only focus on one, and the result is a very very mischaracterized ghost.

There’s a big issue when it comes to infantalizing Ghostbur; it’s definitely the most common mischaracterization I’ve seen. And I think the reason it’s so rampant is because it’s… sort of grounded in truth? Ghostbur is very whimsical and silly and smiley, and he does quite a few things that would be seen as childish—things such as refusing to talk/think about sad things, only focusing on “happy” things, deriving the most fulfillment and satisfaction from simple tasks, etc etc. I don’t think it’s wrong to say that Ghostbur has childish traits! Not wrong at all!! It’s an important part of his character, I fully believe that!

The problem comes when people only see Ghostbur as childish. When they only pay attention to his sillier aspects. When they cannot understand that yes, parts of Ghostbur are childish, but he is still an adult and he’s really quite mature!!

Another mischaracterization I’ve seen, though not as frequently, is sort of… I guess “dark Ghostbur” would be the best way to put it; they think of Ghostbur as creepy, as unsettling, as dead, as unnatural, as disturbing. They see him as something wrong, as something that is not supposed to be moving and talking and smiling. Someone who watches pleasantly as terrible things happen all around, someone who’s ready to kill and torture. Basically, this version of Ghostbur leans more into the ghost aspect—specifically, a creepy, supernatural ghost who’s clearly, undeniably inhuman.

This, again, is founded on a bit of truth! Ghostbur has definitely done or said creepy things—most notably whenever he talks about death. He’ll say things like, “Alivebur blew up the nation and killed everyone, it looks like Tommy killed himself, I want to die” and he will say it all in an easy, pleasant, smiling tone of voice, as if he sees absolutely nothing disturbing about the subject matter.

But the problem happens when fans only see this side of his personality, and make it into his entire personality. Because truth is, Ghostbur isn’t a generally creepy character! He’s super sweet and wants to help people, and he’s always looking for the good in others. He just happens to also have a bit of an unsettling side to him, but that is by no means reflective of his whole entire personality, and shouldn’t be viewed as such!

The many complexities of Ghostbur is something I could literally go on and on about, but this kinda scratches the surface of what I mean. He has so many wonderful sides to his beautiful & unique personality, and I think most fans are incapable of understanding all of them :( It’s very unfortunate, because he really is SUCH an amazing character!! He’s incredible!!! He does not deserve how the fandom treats him, not at all.

[tricoufamily]

update tinder guy superliked me, asked me on a date, spent the entire thing belittling and making fun of me and seeming vaguely angry at me. then asked me for a second date

[scarameownya]

hiiii Nick I saw this on my dash and it reminded me of puppetgear instantly so I had to share with you hehe

n e way I hope you will have a wonderful day!!! <3

OMG ZEZE AJDJSJDJSJ YEA THIS IS THEM... ok more so wanderer if he ever visits fontaine because even till now ppl still think niko is a irredeemable criminal 😭

BUT THIS IS ME IRL TO HIM, THE LITTLEST WET BABY CAT GIRL EVER