#give it a try before you form an opinion

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic (and Meat) Rec 50

Holy moly! This is my 50th fanfic rec list! I have to admit, these have been fun to make each week. Along with these fic recs, I also have a meat rec for you at the end! It's an interesting one, heehee.

To Err is Human, to Purr is Batman by Internerdionality - Batfam with a little Superbat, wip. Bruce gets turned into a cat by Batmite. It's super adorable :)

how to divide the conquest of they sight by streetlight_skeletons - Batfam, complete. A case fic. Something Bruce got into while on patrol is causing him to attack Dick.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More mer Bruce AU! Still on the look out for missing Bruce!

Stand Up for Yourself by UnicornVomit - Batfam, complete. Jason gets in trouble at school, but Bruce has his back :)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Batfam, complete. A re-read for me. A fic about what happens after Bruce gets back after being lost in time, especially with the relationships within the Batfam.

Bruce Wayne and his vampire boyfriend by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat, complete. Jason runs into Tim at a gala. Tim tries to convince him that Bruce's boyfriend (Clark) is a vampire. Shenanigans ensue.

have your cake and eat it too by amyritter - Superbat, complete. Clark is sad he can't get hickies :( Good thing he has a creative partner :)

As promised, a meat recommendation! If you're from Pennsylvania, you already know it, it's scrapple!

Here is the Wikipedia entry for it:

I was introduced to this dish when I was in college! One of my meat science professors was from that state, and he wanted to teach the processed meats class I was in how to make it. It's actually a pretty interesting dish! Leftover pork meat and pork offal are ground up, mixed with spices, buckwheat flour/cornmeal/wheat flour, and water. It's cooked down and put in to loaf pans so you get that loaf shape. It's sold fully cooked, so you could eat it as is when you buy it, but it's traditionally served sliced thin and pan fried on both sides to get that nice crispy crust. I like to eat mine with maple syrup! It's a nice contrast of sweet and savory, I think.

At one of my previous jobs, I worked in a pork packing plant in Pennsylvania, so we made this! It would be served in the cafeteria as one of the breakfast options, and they would DEEP FRY the slices. They were nice and crispy then!

I think what I like so much about this product is the whole thought process that went into making it, so the packer/butcher shop owner could make money from inexpensive parts of the hog. It is literally made of the leftover parts of the hog that no one wants to eat by themselves (hearts, livers, kidneys). Also, the flours and meals added to extend the product tends to be pretty cheap compared to the meat. The water added as well is also pretty inexpensive. It's a way to create value out of parts of the hog that people would normally not eat, while making it tasty (in my opinion) too! It's problem solving at the meat butchery level!

I know some people might read/look at this and think "gross!!", but I just think it's neat (insert Marge Simpson potato meme here). I also have some good memories that I associate with scrapple when I was going to school and when living in Pennsylvania. ALSO, we have this new thing going on at my work where all the food labs get together and discuss what's happening in our labs each month. The R&D director said that he's open to suggestions to showcase interesting food products in our industry at the end of the meeting. I suggested this to my boss and he didn't like it, probably because he thinks it's gross or something. This is my little "fuck you" to him (that he will never see since he is a straight white man who has no idea what Tumblr is).

Happy reading (and eating!)

[dream-sans-mogai]

This will probably get looks from performative and ultimately harmful non-transfems despite my being transfem but-

Some y'alls only interaction with feminist history and theories, radical feminism regardless of its intersectionality and really any feminism deeper and louder and meaner than blatant choice feminism like the barbie movie and whatever TF taylor swift thinks shes got going on is through your occasional and short interactions with terfs and it shows. You call vagina art terfy and it fucking isnt. Its feminist art. Your brainrot is making you a fucking mra. The fact y'all think talking about the man vs bear situation is about/started/ran by terfs (and encouraged some really questionable other transfems shitting on it despite it clearly just being about women's safety and yes all men, not transphobia.), everything from questioning wether certain groups belong in our community to thinking a word is a slur or having a lesbian icon (I have sources don't test me) or not to not liking a certain band has been called "terf rhetoric". I'm all for us Transmascs talking about how terfs affect us cause they absolutely do and their harm to the transmasc community can not be understated but like.... Y'all are not allowed to call Jack shit terf rhetoric anymore. Like nothing. You don't know what it means, you litterally call transmedicalism and sysmedicalism terf rhetoric. Do you mean exclusionist? Say exclusionist. Terfs are not the end all be all hate group. They have a very specific complex mindset that affects so many people in specific ways. Someone hating Neopronouns is not fucking terf rhetoric. It's nbphobia. Holy fuck. Learn what words mean.

(intersectional trans radfems exist, radical feminism isn't terfs and swerfs and historical radfems would laugh in their faces for their idiocy)

[brain-rot-central]

not to be rude but like AI art literally steals from other artists and it's awful for the planet.. so maybe you should mind AI art? lol

Hey so I'm not really gonna answer this beyond 1) I don't really use Tumblr for debates/arguments about inflammatory topics and 2) I'm purposely ignorant to the entire outrage surrounding AI art because there are too many things demanding "action" and "engagement" from the general public on any given day at this point that I literally have zero left in the tank.

I'm not defending AI art but I'm literally just saying it's not one of the things that "enrage" me as of late. I'm more worried about things going on in my personal life and the current political climate of the US rn tbh and I come here to Tumblr to be horny about fictional characters because that's a better coping mechanism than drinking myself into a stupor or taking bong rip after bong rip to the face.

That being said I subscribe to artists on patreon that create their own art and will always 100% support artists who draw for a living.

[jaythelay]

"Oh I'm interested in this video"

Title has an arbitrary opinion in it

"Well not now, I'd just be supporting a stupid thought."

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[moonlight-prose]

i’d love to see your take on #15 from the prompt list: “jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar” w logan 👀 i’m picturing logan in xmen 1 or 2 specifically 😫

have a cigar

a/n: i am such a fucking sucker for the jealousy trope. especially when he's the idiot who doesn't realize he's the only option. the best one in my opinion. but of course he's got his own hangups and his own issues. so i've thrown a bit of angst in here with the spice. enjoy darling! (the title is based off the pink floyd song which gives massive logan vibes.)

summary: everyone knows who you belong to. if the jacket you wore that left you drowning in the soft leather wasn't indication enough, then the claws attached to your guard dog certainly was.

word count: 3.3k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, possessive logan, violence, tw: blood, animalistic tendencies, cigar smoke, alcohol, harassment, spitting, exhibitionism, p in v sex, rough sex, bruising, choking, logan kinda refers to them as an object (out of love), he's literally unhinged.

The bar reeked of spilled beer and shitty cigarettes. A rock song from the seventies blasted from the speakers—crackling every time the front door was jostled open, another patron stumbling in for a night of fun. Raucous cheers erupted from the corner where four men in leather jackets had taken up residence at a pool table; each one betting higher than the other.

You were perched on a stool. A heavy brown leather jacket wrapped around your body, a half finished whiskey in front of you, and a cigar clutched in your fingers. Neither were yours.

Yet you couldn't help but sip at the drink with a happy sigh, the smoke curling down your hand with a familiar scent that twisted your inside.

For the past ten minutes, you'd been staring at the menu. Trying to discern if ordering the mini plate of nachos was worth it before Logan waltzed back in from the bathroom. He muttered about there being a fucking line due to someone locking the damn stall. But you didn't mind.

Time spent with him was worth sitting here alone.

That is until you heard the telltale familiar scratch of a stool being dragged away—someone sitting to your right with a heavy grunt.

You flinched slightly, turning your back towards them, but their knuckles were already rapping on the bartop. Demanding your attention with another grunt. You could smell the alcohol on their skin, the glaze in their blue eyes as you turned, but that isn't what sent fear curling low in your spine. It was the sleazy grin on their lips.

They wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doin' sittin' here alone?" he slurred, eyes trailing down your form.

Suddenly wearing the simple sundress for Logan felt like an awful idea. Your stomach turned with nausea as he ogled your body without shame. To him you weren't a person. Fuck you'd be lucky if he even asked for your name before he spewed bullshit about taking you home.

The bartender eyed him with a glare, nodding his head in your direction for some affirmation of safety. He recognized you, knew Logan from the countless times he'd been here, and that left you with some peace to cling to. It wasn't much, but you grasped at it blindly. Offering an awkward smile to appease the victim of Logan's fist when he finally returned.

"I'm with someone." You hated how meek your voice sounded; how small you felt sitting here like prey.

He shrugged, leaning close enough for you to smell the vodka on his breath. "I won't tell if you don't babe."

Heavy boots thumped against the floor and you visibly relaxed in your seat as Logan's form filled your peripheral. He stood stiff at your side, hands curling into fists at the sight of a man practically laying across your lap. Your eyes met his, guilt bleeding into your pupil. Only for anger to fill his. His hand pressed to your back, thumb rubbing into your side softly.

"You got a problem boy?" he snapped.

The man sat up too quickly, his body swaying as he met the guard dog attached to your back. "Just talking to the lady man. Fuck off."

You sighed, feeling Logan's hand freeze. Out of all the mistakes that could be made—that remained the worst. The man had dug his own grave. Logan was merely the executioner tasked with bringing this man to his awaited appointment with death.

Who were you to stand in the way of that?

You slipped off the stool, moving with speed to get out of the way of Logan's claws. Slamming the man against the bartop, he set the blades to his throat. A snarl resonated in the place, forcing everyone to go quiet, as you watched in rapture at the sight of Logan pinning a man. Daring him to move.

He cried in pain, blood dripping from the split open wound in his forehead. But mercy wasn't something Logan gave willingly. You felt his love in the form of wrath. A weight against your chest that you sunk your teeth into with a smile.

He was willing to kill for you.

To spill blood for your lips to curve into a pleased grin.

You were breathless even thinking about it.

"Now," he growled, pressing the man down until he heard the snap of a bone. "Wanna repeat that shit to my face motherfucker?"

"N-No." The scent of copper tinged the air, laying on your tongue. "I'm—fuck—I'm sorry! I didn't know she was yours man."

He lowered his face, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood permeating the air. "Touch her again and it's your arm."

Nodding frantically, you watched as the man practically slid to the floor in a mess of tears. Part of you wanted to feel bad for him. A pathetic soul who couldn't find joy unless it was preying on others. Logan's hand wrapping around the back of your neck is what killed those feelings with a swift slice of an axe. The heat of his touch became an anchor against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Sick, twisted, inhumane. You attempted to label the feelings that catapulted right into your chest at the sight of Logan's red stained fist. There had to be an explanation in the back of your mind. A missing piece as to why you felt such exhilaration in the face of violence.

"Motherfucker," he muttered under his breath, slamming the back door open with his foot, his fingers digging a bit deeper. "Thinks he can take what's mine."

Oh. You liked that.

The click of his lighter and spark of a flame illuminated the shadow of possession that lingered on his face. His eyes watched you, trailed down the form of your body beneath his oversized leather jacket. The soft echo of love was swapped out for something tenebrous—something raw.

"C'mere." He spoke the word as if his hand wasn't still around your neck, leading you into his vicinity.

You stumbled over your own feet, eyes wide with the type of veneration he felt slam into his chest. Such a pretty thing, so lovely and soft for him to caress. To call his.

Perhaps this need to claim you stemmed from an animalistic urge he should have tamped down. He knew he looked like an asshole back in the bar, knew that you weren't a fan of when he got his fists dirty. But the need to sink his teeth into the side of your neck until blood poured into his mouth overtook him on his worst days.

It was fucked to even think about. Harming you, marking you, all to make sure that drunken idiots knew to keep their hands to themselves.

That thought alone was enough to make him feel a hint of disgust over his own fantasies.

Until he smelled it.

Cigar smoke unfurled from his mouth, curling low and falling across your face with a soft brush of air. Your eyes fluttered from the scent, mouth filling with saliva at the thought of him blowing it between your parted lips. All you had to do was ask him—place your hands on his cheeks and press your lips to his. He certainly wouldn't be against kissing you.

But something darker swirled to life in your chest. A hidden truth you felt far too ashamed to reveal that you started to tuck away in the back of your mind.

That didn't stop your scent from growing thick in the air, filling his nose with the sharp tang of your sweetness. He could practically taste it on the tip of his tongue. The ache to see it for himself nearly overwhelmed his body.

Something shifted in the time it took for the both of you to get outside away from the prying eyes inside the bar. Everyone knew you were Logan's. That became clear the second his jacket draped your shoulders—his hand a permanent fixture on your hip as he saw with you at the bar. But seeing him confirm a truth already known.

The spillage of blood was a small price to pay to set his words into stone for those to read. Logan was prepared to do far more than that; the need to bend you over the bar and make you cry those pretty little tears only meant for him growing each time you came here.

"Logan," you murmured, eyes half lidded with lust.

"Yeah you liked that huh sugar."

"I–" What could you say to him? I loved seeing you claim me like an animal in front of everyone. That alone felt too fucking embarrassing to admit out loud.

His thumb pressed into the back of your skull, releasing what tension built up. Moaning softly, you curled your body into his, eyes fluttering shut as he massaged that spot until you purred. You were so pliable under his hold, willing to leap when he said the word, and Logan could feel his cock throb at the sight.

His pretty girl.

"Liked seeing me beat a man cause he touched you." Lips curled into a smirk around his cigar when your mouth parted, breaths coming in harder than before. "You'd let me fuck in front of all of 'em wouldn't ya. Just to show them you're mine."

You went lightheaded, slick pouring out of you, as a soft whine broke through the still night air. Something snapped in your mind at the thought—images of Logan pulling your skirt up and fingering you at the bar. Thoughts of him settling you on his lap to cockwarm him as he smoked his cigar at a table. Entirely at ease with the thought of everyone seeing you leak around him.

They all curled low in your belly, cracking open the door of desires you kept locked shut. Pandora's box was finally about to be pried open and yet all you could think about was his eagerness to show off what belonged to him.

Use me. Mark me. Take me however you want to.

Saying them with a shaky voice and shot nerves would do nothing for that unfathomable throbbing between your legs.

Not when he could see it written across your face with a clarity that should have scared you.

"You're my fuckin' filthy girl aren't ya," he muttered, drawing you close enough to taste the cigar smoke off his lips.

"Uh-huh." The dazed lilt of your words made him smile.

So needy for him even in the proximity of a disgusting alleyway in the back of a bar. How could he resist such sweetness?

His hand moved, closing around your throat, as he plucked the cigar from his lips. "Here's what I'm gonna do sugar." Your open mouth gave him enough leeway to blow the remainder of his smoke past your lips—forcing a gasp past your throat. "'M gonna fuck you right here. And I want you to make them hear it."

"A-Are you sure?"

He smiled, pushing you towards the wall and stubbing his cigar out on the brick. "What? Don't you wanna set those fuckers right?"

Nodding, you let him tug up the hem of your skirt of your dress, fingers delving beneath the lace panties you wore specially for him. With a groan, his eyes fell shut at the feel of you dripping so messily for him. Leaking across his hand even before he pressed the rough calloused pads to your clit—drawing a soft cry from your mouth.

"You get this wet watching me sugar?" he grunted against your cheek, mouth hovering right where you wanted him. "Poor thing. Didn't mean to make ya wait."

"Oh fuck," you gasped, fingers curling into his flannel. "L-Loved seeing you Logan."

He chuckled—degrading yet filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "I should fight in front of you more often. Get you nice and ready for me to fuck you whenever I want."

Whatever response you might have been able to form died in the back of your throat. A choking garbled moan of his name pierced the air when two fingers plunged into you knuckle deep. Curling roughly at your walls with a determined flare. This wasn't him trying to get you off. This was him proving he could.

"You hear that? She's singin' for me baby." The wet squelch of his fingers pounding into you left heat blooming beneath your cheeks and down your chest. "Beggin' for my cock."

"Need it Logan–"

A hand hiked your leg up to curl around his hip, lips finally slotting against yours with a stunted groan. Any coherent thoughts you might have had died with his tongue. He licked into you as if he was looking for something. Claimed your mouth with harsh moans and deep hot strokes against the roof of your mouth.

"I'll give it to you," he bit off, sucking your tongue into his mouth until you trembled in his hold.

He was everywhere. Pulling his fingers free and swallowing your whimper, he hoisted you up and shoved you against the wall so hard your back hurt. The pain quickly dwindled into a dull ache when the familiar clink of his belt buckle hit your ears.

Swallowing his harsh growl, you canted your hips against his. The growing heat in your body fanned into a fire you could no longer ignore; his touch echoing with the embers of something disastrous.

You knew you craved him, but this felt like a baseline urge your body couldn't give up. Some neolithic part of your brain that got off on being protected, possessed.

"You've got no idea how badly I wanna give it to ya," he muttered, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. "Gonna drive me fuckin' insane."

"Yes." The word felt diminutive compared to his, but everything else tapered off into garbled moans of his name.

"Already beggin' and I haven't even started." He smiled cruelly, cock sliding through your slickened pussy with a stuttered grunt.

If you were standing, your knees would have buckled. Even now they locked against his waist to keep him from pulling away. Secrets scratched at the nearly open door as he lined himself, fisting his cock with bared teeth and a throaty growl. There became no use in keeping them at bay. Not when Logan shared the fantasy in his own mind—playing it out like a film projected on your heart.

His hand slapped against the brick wall beside your head, the other snuggly resting at your throat. The flutter of your heart pulsed beneath the vein on your neck, directly along the jugular he often nipped and sucked at. The pad of his thumb pressed down against it—tongue swiping at his bottom lip when you moaned. Broken, pitched high enough to bounce off the alleyway walls.

"So pretty when you're needy." His lips caught yours, spit a glossy smear on your chin. "Can't even think straight without it."

You wanted to agree, to tell him you were nothing if you weren't his.

With a snarl pressed into your mouth he sunk into your pussy in one thrust and your mind went numb. You sagged against the wall, a splintered cry resonating in the air when he bottomed out. Your name a harsh groan—his neck strained and eyes squeezed tight.

"Logan," you sobbed loud enough for it to echo back into the bar. You could practically see them sitting there. Eyes wide and they fought the urge to get off to the sound of Logan fucking you within an inch of your life.

Nails scratched along his clothed shoulders in a desperate attempt at getting him closer when he began to pound into you. Hips slapped against yours with each roll of his hips, his hand slowly tightening around your throat. Even now you stared at him with wonder in your eyes. The glimmer he adored finding its way back into your iris as you admired how he looked.

The way his teeth grit together, nostrils flaring as your scent all but drowned him. He was a mythological being who'd come to declare that you had always been his. That this was merely an act of fate; the strings drawing you two together so tight it cut through your skin and bled you dry.

The hand on your throat shifted higher, prying open your mouth. "C'mon baby. Let 'em know who you belong to."

A ragged moan ripped free from the shackles of your chest, your eyes rolling back as his cock brushed against raw bliss. He smiled, forehead pressed to yours and hips shifting to keep the angle. Even when you began to cry loud enough to alert people on the streets Logan refused to give you a chance to breathe.

This wasn't the man you came with. This was the animal buried deep within his heart; the Wolverine snapping at anyone who dared to come near his other half.

"That's it," he bit out. "You gonna be a good fuckin' girl and cum for me?"

"Mm-hm."

He panted against your lips, tongue licking behind your front teeth. "Can feel her chokin' my cock."

You couldn't breathe. Each thrust sent what little air you had out of your lungs in small breathy whines. He fucked into you with abandon until you swore you felt him in your throat—the echo of skin against skin and the scrape of his boots on gravel when he shifted you higher became your gravity.

With a sharp intake of breath, he dropped his hand from the wall to cup your ass. Swiftly dropping you on his cock to force a scream from your mouth. It clawed up your chest, that familiar aching pull in your torso. The burn you clung to as he tipped your head back and messily spit into your open mouth. You swallowed it with a moan, thighs clenching around his hips.

"That's it," he rumbled, thumb finding your pulsing clit with ease. "Give it to me, yeah? Make a fuckin' mess on it."

A harsh thrust sent your head flying to the back of the wall. Logan was quick to slam his hand behind you, giving you a cushion to stop from severely hurting yourself. His mouth sought out yours with a mumble of your name, hips grinding deep as you came apart with a broken shout.

Bliss tore through every nerve in your body; your pussy now coating his throbbing cock in a fresh wave of slick. Logan moaned high and desperate against your tongue, following you quickly. Neither of you could tell if it was from the adrenaline of the fight or taking you out in the open, but he wouldn't stop coming.

"F-Fuck." He gasped, eyes rolling back as his head tipped. He filled you so much you could feel it leaking out, dripping down your thighs and coating the front of his jeans.

A nasty thought of dropping to your knees and licking the fabric clean filled your head—your walls spasming around him hard enough to make him hiss in pain. You quickly stored it away for later. When the feeling eventually returned to your legs.

"I think they know not to touch what's mine now," he mumbled, stealing a chaste kiss as he rubbed a soothing shape in your hip.

"Logan." He cupped your chin, lips curling into a dopey smile that bled warmth into your chest. "Take me home?"

His nose nudged yours in an act so gentle you nearly forgot how he fucked you a minute prior. "Sure thing sweetheart. Kiss?"

You grinned, eyes still shimmering with that love-struck awe; he felt it clench around his heart. "Well come here baby."

In the dark of the alley his lips found yours, sealing the deal of fate with the fulfillment of a life spent in each other's arms.

[staff]

We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world? 

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism. 

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

[halfricanloveyou]

i think it’s so wild that white people online will be all “racism is bad” online to shout to everyone about how they “care” about human rights and then still openly consume and promote content by creators who are openly racist and will type 3-4 page essays about how they aren’t being racist by doing this, actually.

OR when their s/o or parent or sibling or friend openly says something racist on a public format and spreads it around they’re suddenly radio silent. not a peep. or when a black person online comments on a race issue and if their white friend starts attacking the black person by accusing the black person of racism and then using AAVE to “give a sassy and succinct clapback” they instantly jump to their white friend’s “rescue” and defend them. then they and their friends all sit and profile dive and find personal info about the “racist” black person and actively harass or straight up doxx the black person.

and then they have like “BLM” shit on their profile. or after that go on a long long rant of “everything good” they’ve ever done for “you people” because they genuinely think reblogging pro-BLM shit is all it takes to make a difference.

fucking seriously, i am so so fucking tired of it. ya’ll won’t even do the bare minimum for us. ya’ll won’t even attempt to advocate for us ONLINE unless it’s trendy to do so or serves a way to boost your own egos.

and on this website SPECIFICALLY i am so so fucking tired of no one actually listening to the black users here but instead actively going out of your way to force us all into an argument on race as if ya’ll have ANY RIGHT to do that. especially when we, as actual VICTIMS of racism, call it out when we see it.

you don’t put any effort into stopping the spread of racist ideals or deplatforming racists. we can’t count on you to even shut the fuck up when we talk, let alone amplify our voices. advocating online is the EASIEST, LOWEST EFFORT way of promoting the spread of racism, ESPECIALLY to minors, the most impressionable group of online users.

if a terf shows up you guys go the extra mile to shut them down immediately and get them the fuck off this site. you will even steal their fucking URLS and get them deactivated. if a white trans woman is being harassed by terfs MULTIPLE users will come to her inbox and offer their support. if someone struggles with mental illnesses or the stigma surrounding them people will reblog the shit out of their posts to make people see things from a different perspective. and those are ALL GOOD THINGS!!!

the notes on those posts will be absolutely FLOODED with people agreeing. if someone tries to be an asshole everyone dogpiles on them and shits on them for their shitty comment. and you know what? the shitty ableist or transphobic comment gets deleted or the blog gets shut down.

but where is even a FRACTION of that energy for racism? for racist blogs? why is it that even if a post regarding racism gets overall approval and is reblogged/popular the notes on it are OVERWHELMINGLY negative and racist and no one reblogging the post actually fucking cares enough to shut that shit down like they do everything else?

i am so so fucking tired of every single fucking online space or platform being like this. including this one. i can’t even get on here and enjoy any form of black oriented content or posts or opinions without 8,000 white people attacking and tearing it down and another 8,000 making it about themselves and how good of an ally they are without addressing any of the racism or racists all over it and the rest of the fucking site userbase not giving a shit until another white person is affected somehow or it directly benefits them.

i can’t even escape this shit in real life. i’m just so so fucking tired and disappointed and angry. there’s never a fucking break from this fucking bullshit. sure. ya’ll don’t burn crosses in yards anymore and get away with it. but openly calling us monkeys, harassing us, and never letting us rest at any time, then accusing us of racism when we get angry in any way? it’s just so fucking….insane to me.

[wilcze-kudly]

People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.

Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)

"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.

You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?

Toph's!

People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.

Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.

And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?

She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.

Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.

It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.

Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.

However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.

Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.

She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.

So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.

Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.

Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.

Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.

On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.

Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.

Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.

If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.

Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.

[rizsu]

ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤ◟ relationship deep-dive: what to expect. ── sukuna ryomen, gojo satoru, inumaki toge ﹕ jjk.

﹙ headcanons galore ﹚ ⊹ what to expect from them in a relationship — scenario & texts.

+ love ‘su: u can skip the mini scenarios n go straight for the smau ☝🏽 its just there for context !!

sukuna ryomen.

sukuna's favourite thing to do is telling you “no,” even when he means “yes.”

he'd openly reject your suggestions and requests, refute your opinions, or just outright say ��no,” when in truth, he's making a mental note to get it done before dinner time.

showing affection in its purest form isn't his strong forte, and he's not working on it either. as much as he adores you, he dislikes having his brain wracked with colliding emotions.

to sukuna's fortune, his irritable personality lined up with your peculiar tastes, making him the man you've sought out and only found in dreamland.

strongly contradicting his exterior, sukuna thinks you're the cutest when you're sulking because he pulled out the infamous “no,” even though you were confident he'd agree this time.

you're the least fear-inducing person he's ever laid his eyes on. automatically, your attempts of using anger to persuade him backfires. this might just be his first time experiencing the so-called ‘cuteness aggression.’ he's only ever heard of it from you, but experiencing it first hand made him battle with himself to not crush your face between his palms — in the most romantic way possible.

gojo satoru.

arguments with satoru can vary based on two conditions: what his current mood is, and what the level of fuck up is. usually the arguments are lighthearted, or it doesn't last long. oftentimes he fuels it, too petty to accept defeat.

however, if they do last longer he puts his pride aside and goes (chases) after you. he's addicted to you — giving him permanent silent treatment is the same as taking away his oxygen! he's basically a dead man.

every time satoru owns up to his behaviour, he forgets that the old saying “what goes around, comes around.” once he accepted defeat, you copied his behaviour. this wasn't something he foreseen. getting a taste of his own mecidine did not feel lovely at all.

inumaki toge.

originally, you were just friends with inumaki. close friends at best — there weren't any mixed signals, slick comments, or hinting at something. just a calm friendship between you and him. somewhere down the lines, the friendship took a turn. for the worst? not quite. for the best? maybe.

it's not rare for two friends to gossip about their love life. texting inumaki after a failed attempt became a natural reflex for you. you were skeptical if he grew tired of it, but you also didn't care. as the male friend, he had no choice but to listen!

eventually failure after failure is bound to tire a person out completely, so why not ‘jokingly’ try with him? trial and error never hurts.

[moonastro]

Astrology notes pt.3

Autumn edition (spiritual)🍂

🥀 12th house ruler in 1st house can make an individual see ghosts/spirits. If ruler is in 3rd house, this can even go as far as being able to communicate with them.

🥀IC in Scorpio and especially if ruler of ic is in Scorpio, it can mean that that person has a long line of witches in their family, Pluto also needs to have significance in the placement.

🥀Jupiter in Scorpio/8th house individuals please keep your goals and manifestations to yourself and don’t be spreading them to people. As luck follows you if you keep accomplishments and your plans to your self.

🥀7th house ruler in 0 degrees, your have met your future spouse in a past life/lives and this can be a very spiritual and fulfilling connection. can feel out of this world and its literally your soul just trying to find this person to meet again.

🥀 suns ruler in 6th house can make an individual more prone to colds/ being cold all the time (since the 6th house is the house of ill health and the ruler in the 6th house or having connections to the 6th house reverses the hot represented by the sun into cold). also the sun rules over the heart and blood and so this tends to make a person have weak blood/cold blood.

🥀another observation to do with being ill, the scariest can be not knowing that you are ill which can be depicted from having uranus in the 6th house. the individuals with this placement can seriously suffer from unknown illnesses and may experience difficulty with health but not be diagnosed as it may not even exist. especially, can experience unknown symptoms and their body can seriously act almost foreign when it comes to illness.

🥀mars in cancer people, i dont know if people talk about this or not but i have noticed that his placement irritates people unknowingly and they may not even do anything wrong. but i think its because this placement goes with the flow and are unbothered by things and people pick up on that and may recognised how they cant be controlled and hence the anger towards them. also this placement can trigger people unconsciously.

🥀11th house ruler in 8th house can attract a lot of people with paranormal experiences. they may also connect with those with paranormal interests,

🥀 moon trine venus individuals value and experience heavy nostalgia. they can tend to associate smells, noise, scenery etc with memories that they had with certain people.

🥀 in vedic astrology, if 7th house ruler is in pisces, this can indicate dreaming of your future spouse before even meeting them. so you literally can predict your meeting, their appearance etc with your dreams.

🥀 having venus in 12th house synastry with someone can indicate dreaming of them constantly. the house person especially can feel the severity of the spiritual connection between them romantic or not.

🥀 people dont actually talk about ketu in the 1st house as often. in my opinion it is one of the most spiritual placements you can have. this placement allows the individual to have unique experiences in life that usually indicates an intense connection to themselves and the spiritual realm. another thing i have noticed with this placement is that they feel like the odd one out which strengthens their relationship with themselves in a very spiritual level.

🥀mars in gemini people should work with a form of smoke- incense, wind etc. especially to relieve from stress or negativity. this can also be used while decluttering your space, meditating etc.

🥀 rahu in 7th house in your chart can indicate lessons being repeated in your life and this is especially related to one to one interactions with people. you can experience a lot of deja vu also with this placement.

🥀 speaking of deja vu, jupiter trine uranus can indicate experiencing deja vu also. but this placement can give a predicting sense to it so you can dream of something and it happens in real life but can happen multiple times also as jupiter is expanding the possibilities of the occurrence.

🥀 venus in pisces/trine jupiter individuals can have a soul deep connection with music.

🥀 pluto in 4th house can have an almost forbidden connection to their ancestors. this can translate in many ways such as not knowing much about them or literally not being in contact with any of them but craving the need to. on the other hand, you may not know it but your ancestors may quietly and subtly be by your side but may not want to be in contact with you.

🥀 continuing with the pluto talk, pluto in the 12th house can attract a lot of unknown and hidden obsessive people. you may not even know the people but they know you. its creepy but this can indicate having stalkers.

🥀 in vedic astrology, if you have your sun as your atmakaraka (highest degree) in your chart, you may enjoy summers-the sun a lot. sunny weather or during the hotter months, you can experience more memorable occurrences. the hotter months are almost like a recharge for your soul.

🥀 okay, i have found no blogs talk about dashas in vedic astrology. BUTTTT i find them to be very accurate and useful. as for me when i was going through a spiritual breakthrough i was in a jupiter mahadasha which is no surprise since jupiter rules spiritualism, wisdom, knowledge. (there is so much more depth in it but i think I'm going to do a post about it seperately because it is soo accurate).

once again, appreciate everyone who reads this and if you do know that you are loved and have a lovey day🤍😊

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Random NSFW headcanon please? (If you do nsfw...)

alrighty roo, buckaroo, lets discuss kinkage - thank you so much for the request

Random Kinks They Deffo Have

They: Iruka, Kakashi, and Itachi (with additions of Sasuke and Shikamaru) (f!Reader)

Warnings: whew! Swearing, explicit smut, power play, somno/free use, auralism, names of authority, praise kink, spit/blood/cum play, idk just please be 18

Notes: This one is for the freaks, obvi Boruto!Sasuke and Boruto!Shikamaru, I'm begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions - be prepared for Shikamaru's to be nasty

Masterlist💿

Iruka

Power Play

He just fucking loves when you take control

Anything you tell him to do, Iruka will do compulsively, and he's absolutely twitching when you tell him how good he is for doing so

All! About! Your! Pleasure!

Iruka's favourite encounters would be when he's not allowed to touch you, though, funnily enough

You're riding him, and all he can do is watch your sultry smile and feel your pussy hugging him tight - he wants to feel you, to run his hands all over your body - but he can't - or else you'll slow down to a halt and sometimes even pull him out, just to give him a beration of sorts

Now, that said, Iruka does not fuck with demeaning talk - you better love on this motherfucker, he's trying his goddamn best for you, and if you should negate that, it would allow a dark cloud to form over Iruka's mind

You don't want that, right? Exactly. So you keep it sweet, you give him stupid, little commands then fan the flames of his ego when he completes the command in spades

Lowk gets boyfriend-brain when he's with you, so kinda does need to be told what to do

Iruka is a sweetheart!!! He's always going what he can for you, all the time, even if you don't explicitly ask him to every time

Kakashi

Free Use/Somnophilia

When you said you would be okay with giving it a trial run, Kakashi was elated, and fucked you four seperate times that night, and began again before you woke up in the morning

He fucks you slow, almost trying not to wake you up, but the stretch is unmistakable

"Good morning, pretty lady. Have any good dreams?" He would ask, noticing your quickened breath, making you instantly relax into the situation

You love it - you stop sleeping in any amount of pant, just so Kakashi could have you as he pleased

When you got home, he would be pressing you against the door, when you try to start chopping vegetables for dinner, he would bend you over then pop you up on the counter when he just couldn't get enough

Kakashi's condition is that everything spontaneous happens within your shared, lovely, little home

He might sneak you away occasionally while the two of you are out, finding a small cache in the forest, but Kakashi would be asking for permission, assurance, consent at every step of the way - public is just different, but he's not entirely opposed

Kakashi just can't believe he's got you, and every time he looks at you, he needs to have you

Itachi

Auralism

He needs to hear you; the way your voice quakes, the way your nails rake across the skin of his back

Itachi's favourite sound though, is the harmony of your bodies meeting, skin smacking skin, squelches and a slick plunging sound, filling the room

Yeiff - let alone fucking outside - my god - Itachi wants your encounter to be so loud that the whole world knows what's going on

With his shit eyeslight, Itachi would prefer to close his eyes while fucking you, letting your beautifully wanton sounds paint a picture in his mind

In a perfect world, he would totally love to get tied up with a blindfold on - just to be at the mercy of your light touch and the intoxicating sound of your pleasure - Itachi would break the binding eventually, desperate to have his hands on you, needing to fuck you hard enough to hear the smacking and sloshing

Itachi is also the primo dirty talker, insisting you reply to him through your stinted pants, sharp gasps and breathy moans

His whole arousal around the subject of sound is cranked up to ten the second the two of you are in public - your little yips when he squeezes your ass, or the biting 'Itachi' that slips out of your mouth when he corners you to cop a feel

Oh, he fucks with names, you can call him whatever the fuck you want, so long as he's the one you're screaming about - but he likes it when you speak to him with more authoritarian honorifics (sir, daddy, lord)

Sasuke

Praise

Ooh, tell him he's hitting the spot and Sasuke would lose it, only trying to hit the exact same spot again

If you're ever out, singing his tune to another party, about anything, and Sasuke catches wind, he's taking you home immediately to prove he can provide more than you bargained for

Y'all, lets be real, and acknowledge that sweet Sasuke craves praise in any and all capacities, but most fervently in the four walls of your bedroom

Again and again, it doesn't matter how many times you tell him, he wants to hear it again

"Sasuke, your cock is so fucking big," you gasped as he slid in slowly.

"Louder. Tell the neighbours."

Loves, loves, loves to be able to hear the affect he's having on your body, every wave of pleasure, every jolt from your orgasm

Even if it's visibly clear that he's got you like putty in his palm, Sasuke will demand that you tell him how good he is, how deep he can reach, how much your pussy loved him

You're a blabbering mess, and it strokes Sasuke's ego to no end that he can bring you to this point, absolutely drunk with pleasure

Shikamaru

Spit/Blood/Cum Play

Anything Shikamaru can ingest that comes from your body (not excretions, sickos), he will

It's insane when you two hit the trifecta - Shikamaru cumming all over a patch of knicks on your stomach then spitting on the pile of liquid, he would mix it all together with his index finger, on top of you, before he would lean down and lick it all up, shoving the finger covered in the rose-tinted mixture into your mouth

Mm mm mm, and your cum, my good Christ, does he ever love your cum

Nothing brings Shikamaru so much joy as pulling his fingers out of you, being coated in a shiny slick

There's also something about the way your face screws up every time he brings a kunai into the bedroom - Shikamaru goes weak in the knees when he sees your crimson blood, glinting on the tip of the knife, losing it even further when you lick it off without hestitation

He's going to cum on your face, just to see you try to open those pretty eyelashes of yours, beads of white weighing them down

Shikamaru had no clue he was into fluids, until you randomly asked him, one day, to spit in your mouth - it's been a done deal since then, spitting just comes with the territory eventually

He always loved seeing your body get painted with his cum, but it's a whole different ball game to watch you play with it, to watch you lick it all up without wasting a drop like you used to do (honestly, Shikamaru can't even remember why he used to wipe his cum off of you)

[keferon]

*throws at you idk*

——————

“Don’t beat yer’self up if this doesn’t work.”

Prowl ignored the whispered plea, watching as Shockwave, Wheeljack, and Ratchet all argued over how the procedure should work. Transferring an organic soul into a Cybertronian body had never been done before, after all. There were so many (4,768,546,786) ways that it could go wrong and so few (9,457) ways for it to go right. It should have been similar to a cold construct like himself, but Prowl couldn’t get his TacNet to account for the Spark issue. Human’s didn’t have those after all and—

“Prowl,” Jazz whispered again, voice whistling and wheezing, tearing the Praxian from his panicked calculations.

The little human looked broken. His wounds patched as best as Ratchet and Knockout could have done, the machines they had attached to him keeping him just barely conscious and away from the pain. Prowl could feel his doorwings droop in sympathy, his spark aching at seeing the little organic who had crawled into his spark in so much pain. He wanted to hold Jazz close, to cradle him against his spark, to protect him, and to promise him that he’d be fine and all of this was temporary. That their plan would work!

But he couldn’t…

This plan was… wasn’t likely (9%) to work at all. But it was either this or Jazz died. Humans were so fragile, their lives so finite compared to a Cybertronian’s.

“Prowler, s’fine. If it doesn’t work. I knew what I was doin’. Saved you, that’s what matters,” Jazz whistled, that soft pained smile crossing his features, single unwrapped eye glazed over in pain.

Prowl swallowed, voice box stuttering and clicking as it reboot. He could feel coolant threatening to fall from his optics as he reached out with a single servo. Getting as close as he dared to without actually touching Jazz.

“It’ll work.” (8%)

Jazz hummed, tipping his small head into Prowl’s touch gently, not believing, but willing to humor.

“It’ll work, and you’ll get to enjoy annoying me and scaring the spark out of me for eons to come. It’ll work,” Prowl stated, firm, ignoring the way his TacNet glitched out a bit as emotion wracked his spark.

“Yes. Because we are going to make it work. Calibrations are done, Commander,” Shockwave interrupted whatever Jazz had been about to say.

Prowl looked up at the scientist, giving the finished cold constructed frame a glance over before looking up into the cold single eyed stare. The tactician hesitated. Just because Decepticons and Autobots were all aligned, had been for centuries due to the Quintessons, it didn’t mean Prowl trusted all of them. Shockwave was the worst one (98%) in his opinion.

“It’s now or never, Prowl. His vitals are fading fast,” Ratchet said softly from behind Shockwave, face drawn tight in sympathy, optics on the system that had hooked up to Jazz’s being.

Prowl looked back down at Jazz. 8-9% this worked. 65% that if it did work, that Jazz would be hindered immediately. 98% that he lost Jazz if he didn’t do this though, that if they didn’t try.

“Prowler, s’okay. I trust you,” Jazz croaked, smiling up at him.

Prowl ached.

“In theory, the frame not having a spark, should help him. Even if a spark doesn’t form, the frame has enough processing power to hold him. It should work,” Wheeljack offered as a final bit of reassurance.

Prowl closed his optics, feeling coolant leak down onto the medical table harboring his human counterpart. Now or never, huh.

“Do it,” he finally said, looking up at Shockwave, optics focusing in on that single red optic.

Shockwave nodded and pulled a lever. Prowl forced himself to stay calm when Jazz’s human heart immedietly just stopped. He pulled himself away from Jazz’s organic form over to the new Cybertronian one, TacNet racing as time just seemed to crawl on.

“Upload at 87%. Should take only a few moments for him to calibrate,” Shockwave announced, and as if at his very command, pure and blinding white optics opened up on the table.

Prowl’s spark jumped up into his intake as all four mechs watched as Jazz slowly oriented himself and sat up. Prowl’s servos twitched, wanting to reach out and touch, but waiting until he was sure this was Jazz. Silence washed over the room as the new mech looked over his own servos in curiosity, before looking straight up at Prowl.

Prowl’s knees nearly gave out when a cautious and yet hopeful EM field washed over him from the mech.

“How do I look,” Jazz asked, a small and nervous smile crawling across his face to match his new EM field.

Prowl made a rather undignified noise as he reached out and firmly tugged the mech forward, off the medical bunk, and into a tight hug. A hug he could finally provide without fearing he’d hurt Jazz.

“Alive. You look alive.”

JUST RIP MY HEART OUT OF MY CHEST AND EAT IT ALREADY

I. Uh m. F u cc. HAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH IT HURTS SO GOOD HELP

[joyful-soul-collector]

I've seen a lot of people talking about how Barbie talks about how the patriarchy affects women and how well it does that, so I wanna talk about how Barbie talks about how the patriarchy affects men and how well it does that. Because it does that really well tbh.

At the beginning of the movie, it's made very clear that the Kens are constantly competing with each other, and trying to prove their worth, their Ken-ness, to both the Barbies, and more importantly, to the other Kens. In fact, multiple times through the movie it's shown that Ken seems to find the opinions of other Kens as a motivator for him to do things. He tries to show off to Barbie only after he sees the other Kens saying hi to her. He only starts dancing with Barbie when he sees the other Kens dancing with her. He only goes with her to the Real World after another Ken accuses him of cowardice and he decides to prove him wrong. Barbie says "Ken's not cool!" and Ken responds "He is to me."

This shows so damn well what the patriarchy is like for men. Because for the Kens it's not necessarily about Barbie, it's about what other Kens think of you. Being a man you are constantly, incessantly trying so damn hard to prove to the other men around you that you are a man, the manliest man to ever man, the best Ken to ever Ken. Literally doing backflips trying to prove yourself. And this is before patriarchy is even officially introduced to the story, there's no undertone of power yet, this is just what it's like to be a man around other men. It's toxic masculinity.

And when the patriarchy is introduced, that's increased tenfold. At first it looks like they've banded together to take power, but really they're still competing with each other, they're just doing it differently. Rather than competing to see who can get Barbie to fall in love with them, they're competing to see who can be the manliest, have the manliest stuff, wear the manliest clothes, have the manliest house and decorations.

And then they literally go to war. War is considered one of the few places where it's socially accepted for men to be more emotional, form deep and personal bonds with other men, and that's exactly what happens in the movie. They go to war, and there's an entire song where they bond and learn not to fight with each other anymore.

And that I think is the message from the Kens. For men, the way the patriarchy affects them is it forces constant competition and animosity, even around people that are supposed to be your friends. It makes it impossible to express your feelings unless they're with a romantic partner, and all of this turns you into a pent up ball of emotions with nowhere to go.

Which means that the message is: In order to fix the way the patriarchy oppresses men, men need to learn how to form close bonds with people, especially other men. Because like Barbie said to Ken, he needs to discover who he is without her. Men have learned to lean on women as a crutch, using them to figure out how to Be A Person and express emotions in a healthy way, but this can very quickly turn into a woman feeling like she needs too be his mother and teach him how to do these things. And Ken was 100% doing this, or at least he was trying to throughout the movie. Ken was so desperate for Barbie to be in love with him, not necessarily because he loved her, but because he needed a person he could just exist as himself around. Because he couldn't do that with the other Kens, the only person he could be himself around was Barbie.

And what's so great about the end of the movie is that the Kens did eventually figure out how to form close bonds with each other! They went to war, argued and fought, but by the end of the song they were holding hands, kissing each other on the cheek, telling each other they were enough. Even when Ken is up in the dreamhouse, crying and saying that he looks stupid, all the other Kens start shouting back up to him, saying that he looks cool. And Ken responds by giving one of his new friends his coat, which was clearly very important to him.

What the Kens did, that's what men in the real world need to do. They need to form close bonds with other men and stop competing with each other. Hopefully not by going to war the way the Kens did, Barbie isn't a blueprint for solving the patriarchy lol.

I'd be happy to do it through a song though.

[teapartyprincess4two]

Affectionate- M. Sturniolo

pairing: TouchStarved!Reader x Affectionate!Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

inspiration: request, thank you @sugrhigh for helping me figure this out luv u shnookums

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, slight cursing

summary: head cannons of Matt being affectionate with his touch starved girlfriend!

—

☆SFW

Affection and PDA isn’t something that comes naturally to you. When you and Matt first started dating, you would keep your distance, but eventually you grew used to it.

☆ When you and Matt first started dating you struggled with any and every form of physical intimacy.

☆ You’re mindlessly flicking through clothes racks at the mall. “Opinions?” Matt asks, holding a shirt in front of your face and slinging an arm over your shoulder.

☆ Subconsciously, you shrug his arm off your shoulder. “That’s cute! I like that,” you reply, scooting further away from Matt.

☆ “Okay, weirdo,” he laughs, but deep down it hurt every time you shied away from him. He tried not to look too into it, but it seemed like you were always avoiding his touch.

☆ “I’ll be back, babe. I’m gonna take Chris to the store,” Matt informs you as he throws his wallet and phone into his pocket.

☆ “Okay, have fun,” you reply simply. Matt stands in front of you fully expecting a quick kiss or even a hug, but you return to your previous activity.

☆ He leaves feeling sad, but still doesn’t bring it up.

☆ It goes on like this for a while, and Matt tries his best to see past it.

☆ You’re currently at an influencer event. The venue is crowded, loud, and overstimulating, forcing you to remain at Matt’s side for the entire night.

☆ He introduces you to a few of his friends, “Hey guys, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” His arms wrap around your waist, immediately causing your body to stiffen.

☆ “Hi,” you say meekly. Matt pulls you in closer, resting his head on your shoulder and peppering your face with kisses.

☆ When you keep leaning away from him, he stops and lets go of you completely. It bothers him enough for him to bring it up once you’re home.

☆ “Y/n, can we talk?” he asks, leaning on the restroom doorframe as you wash your face. You hum in response.

☆ Matt takes a deep breath, preparing to ask the question he’s been dreading the answer to. “Are you embarrassed of me?“

☆ It catches you off guard, “What? No! Why would you even ask that?”

☆ He rolls his eyes, “Because you never let me hug or kiss you.” No response from you, you don’t even know what to say.

☆ The conversation starts innocently but quickly becomes an argument. Matt keeps pushing the subject no matter how hard you try to avoid it, asking you questions you don’t know how to answer.

☆ “it’s not my fault you’re clingy!” you exclaim, throwing exasperated hands in the air. Matt nods his head slowly as his lips form a tight lipped smile.

☆ He doesn’t say anything else, instead leaving to your shared bedroom before he says something he’ll regret.

☆ You immediately wish you could take the words back. “Matt?” your voice is quiet as you enter the room, slowly crawling over to his figure on the bed.

☆ His back is to you. You snake an arm around his waist and apologize for everything you said.

☆ “Do you actually think I’m clingy?” he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. I struggle with the whole PDA thing, but I’m gonna try and work through it okay?”

☆ From that moment forward, you’re much more conscious of your actions.

☆ Matt will hug you, kiss you, or hold your hand in public and you no longer pull away.

☆ Instead you’re pulling him in for a longer kiss than he intended. And eventually you’re the one who initiates the PDA.

☆ You and Matt are sat on a picnic blanket, watching as the sun begins to set. “My back hurts,” he mumbles, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.

☆ You mindlessly scoot closer to him, pulling his body in until it’s resting against your chest.

☆ He gives you a surprised look, “Literally who are you and WHAT did you do to my girlfriend?”

☆ “Shush,” you chuckle, placing soft kisses all over his face.

☆ Other times, you’ll just seek his touch when you’re alone.

☆ “What’s taking so long?” you ask. Matt’s been stirring the pasta for what seems like forever.

☆ “It’s almost done, you goof,” he laughs. You groan, resting your head on his back and wrapping your arms around his waist.

☆ “You smell good,” you murmur, earning a dopey smile from him.

☆ NSFW

The lack of affection can be attributed to a lot of things, and Matt knows that, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Sometimes, he can only think of one way to teach you a lesson.

☆ “What the fuck was that?” Matt grits, referring to the scene you caused in front of his friends. All he wanted to do was kiss you, but you dodged the kiss so aggressively that it was embarrassing.

☆ “Here we go again,” you say. “I’m not doing this right now, Matt,” you turn on your heels, ready to escape the conversation.

☆ “You are doing this right now actually.” He grabs you by your elbow, pulling you into him abruptly.

☆ “You think it’s cute to embarrass me in front of my friends like that?” his voice is low, his breath fanning against your neck with each word. You’re slightly intimidated, but mostly aroused.

☆ He holds a firm grip on your neck, bringing you in for a hungry kiss.

☆ Before you know it, he’s fucking you in front of the bathroom mirror. “Look at how fucked out I have you,” he growls, “remember this next time you wanna act stupid.”

☆ Other times, he’s just so extremely touch starved.

☆ Matt trails kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, kisses that you’re trying to avoid.

☆ “I’m busy, Matt,” you whisper, but with each kiss your breath becomes choppier.

☆ “But I need you,” he whines, pressing his erection into your lower back.

☆ “Later,” you try and reason, but he’s not listening.

☆ That’s what leads to you riding him on the couch until he’s so overstimulated his eyes tear up.

☆ “I can’t—,” he whimpers. “You can,” your voice is firm. “You begged for this, baby. Don’t you remember?”

☆ He clenches his eyes shut, fists bawled at his side. His teeth bite so deep into his lip that he draws blood, orgasming for the 5th time.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: you stumped me with this rec anon lolol had to pull out the reinforcements ( @sugrhigh )

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @stingerayyy2 @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

#27 with art if you feel so inclined! :) 🖤 please and thank you!

Sure thing!

Prompt: Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Warnings: Established relationship, divorced Art Donaldson, smooches

"Did you eat already? I'm so fricking hungry," You grumble, leaving your suitcase by the door and striding toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, I ate."

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

"Are you sure?" You glance back at him from the kitchen. "Ken said you mentioned that it was stiff."

Art doesn't answer for a moment, eyes sweeping across your face. You watch him glance even lower before he shakes his head a little.

"It loosened up."

"If you're sure," You turn back to the sink, cranking on the faucet to wash your hands. "Don't push it if you don't have to."

"I won't."

"How did Lily's uh—Career day go?"

"It went fine. C'mere."

"Her teacher was so excited you could make it, I mean, so happy." You shut the sink off, plucking up the dishtowel to dry your hands before turning to the fridge. "Like, jazzed. I know no one uses that word anymore, but she was jazzed. Did you eat already?"

"I told you I did. C'mere."

"She's always been the coolest kid in the third grade in my opinion, but now it's official. Like—Peer official. Like, blue tick, you know?" You eye the contents of the fridge. "Are you hungry?"

"I just said I ate."

"No, right—Sorry. My mind's like," You shake your head. "I'm trying to slow down and catch up at the same time."

"Baby."

"I'm all jet-lagged and just jacked up. Fucking hate conferences."

"Baby."

"Yeah?"

"Look at me."

You turn your head from the fridge, raising your brows at the sight of Art's small, amused smile.

"...What?"

"Come here," He laughs, holding his hand out. You close the fridge, rounding the counter slowly and eyeing Art with suspicion.

"What's that look for?" You ask.

"I'm not giving you any kind of look."

"Yes you are."

"I am not."

"I know that face, mister."

He chuckles, taking hold of your hand once you're close enough, tugging you down. You lower yourself over him, straddling his thighs and settling in as his arms curl around your waist. He leans up, sucking a gentle kiss to your neck. You bite your lip, shifting slightly as his hands curl in the fabric of your shirt.

"...Are we picking Lily up from practice tomorrow?" You ask as your mind races.

"Tashi's got her," Art mumbles, the hum of it vibrating against your skin.

"Okay, good. I mean—Not good like—I've got some errands to run and I have to wash my clothes from the trip. I don't wanna mess up her schedule."

Art groans, tipping his head back and leaning away. You frown, pouting.

"What's wrong?"

Art lets his head loll to look up at you, a pout forming on his lips.

"You've been at a hundred since you walked through the door."

"I've got things on my mind."

"I can tell."

"Alright—" You groan, beginning to lean away, but Art's arms tighten around you, leaning up and pressing his chest against yours.

"I missed you," He murmurs. You wilt a little, raising your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I missed you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Because I'm feeling very neglected."

Art grins as you break into a laugh, leaning up and brushing a kiss along the underside of your jaw.

"You poor thing," You coo, turning your head. He catches your lips with his, sliding a hand up to your nape to guide your kisses as you sink down against him.

"...Art?" You mumble against his lips.

"Mm."

"I...Missed this...And you..."

"Mhm."

"But I am starving."

"Pizza'll be here in ten."

You grin, leaning back to look at him.

"You didn't."

"Course I did." His hand slides around your neck, knuckles brushing against your jaw.

"You're gonna spoil me rotten, Donaldson."

"Or die trying."