#i am down bad as shit

[ryxmix]

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY

pairings ; boothill x fem! reader

warnings ; smut smut smuuuuut, size kink if you squint real hard, robo dick, ooc boothill (made before release), censored cussing from his side, you call him "sir", use of pet names (sugar, girlie, pretty thing), he has normal human cum for some reason okay don't question me it's smut, you wear his hat (mentioned like...once), he's a huge tease, clit smacking, breeding kink, dumbification, degradation and praise???, he calls you a pillow princess, and more stuff...

a/n: i know he just got drip marketing but i need MORE- also i was thinking of sloppy seconds (ick pt2) by lay bankz while writing this so do with that what you will.

"c'mon sugar, you can do better, can't ya?" the cowboy mumbles mockingly, circling patterns into your inner thigh as you ride him tirelessly, tears staining your puffy cheeks as you try your hardest to cum.

"aw, is my pretty thing such a pillow princess that she can't do nothin unless her big strong cowboy does it for her?" he coos, smacking your clit before gripping onto your hips, still not moving, "didn't you want this? i never told you to, but you thought you could do it, dumb little girl." you sob, grinding down on him, "sir— wanna cum s'bad sir— nghaa!— it hurts, fuck—" he smiles up at your teary face, back resting against the headboard of the bed as he looks at you, teeth bared.

"oh girlie, you want me that bad? you want me to fill that pussy up so good until you can't think no more?" he coos, thrusting up into you, and for the first time tonight, you feel good, his cock touching that spot in your cunny.

"boothill—" he slaps your clit as a warning, and you whine, "sir! sir, it feels good! please, please make me feel good sir, please! fill me up, make me cum, anything!"

he grins at you, sharp teeth glinting under the dim light of the bedroom as he grabs you by the waist and pushes you down on the bed, metal-plated hands cold against your body. you squeak out, gripping onto the sides of the sheets as he flips you over.

"since ya asked so nicely, it would be too mean to say no to ya, girlie," he groans out, using his thumbs to spread your leaky cunt apart, humming at the way it glistens before he thrusts his cock back into you, eliciting a scream from your lips.

"sir! yes, sir— fu- hahnghh! it feels so good, sir, hah~ s-so good—" he doesn't respond, letting out a low growl as he thrusts into you harder and faster, feeling you tighten around him deliciously. You whimper and whine, feeling so full with his cock.

"such a good girl, my good little cutie," he clicks his tongue in annoyance when he can't call you what he wants to; when he can't call you his little slut. but you seem to get the memo, hole tightening around him before you squirt, cum gushing all over him as you fall limp, but he's not stopping, still thrusting into your sensitive hole.

"sir— sir, wait, 'm still sensitive, sir— nghyaa!??" he presses you down on the bed fully, cock thrusting deep until it kisses your cervix, and you let out a broken whimper. He lets out a delightful chuckle, a hand going around your neck until he brings you into a choke hold in his arm, squishing your cheeks until you can only let out babbles from the struggle to breathe. but it still feels so good, better even.

"sir— sir, 'm gonna cum again— sir— mphyaaa!" you gush around his cock once more and he finally spills into your hole, cum thick and creamy. he lets you out of the criminally sexy chokehold before putting his hat on you with a chuckle, admiring your fucked out face.

"that's my pretty girl, heh."

[cassberry]

the link dying montages are going to be incredible in totk

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[stealingyourbones]

Out of all of the people The Ghost King Phantom expected to relate to, it definitely wasn’t the scrawny red headed photographer of the Daily Planet. Jimmy Olsen has gotten so many temporary superpowers over his time being Superman’s friend. Hell, he once gained a 4th dimensional being’s reality warping abilities when he was given said dimensional being’s powers during a fight. Sure there’s a dozen or so heroes with the same amount of powers he has, but none as suddenly granted to them as a all powerful god that can relate to a teenager.

[hashcakes]

Wdym lestappen now have FUCKING MATCHING DOGS. I DONT KNOW IF THAT WAS INTENTIONAL BUT DEAR GOD THEY'RE WRITING THEIR OWN FANFICTION IRL.

[anghraine]

It's wild to me that I had heard of the prime Kirk/Spock content in various TOS episodes long before I saw them, but had never heard of what IMO is the shippiest moment of all thus far, in an interestingly O_o goddamn I do not want whatever you two have but you do you?? holy shit though what a moment way.

I'm of course referring to the otherwise rather mid episode "Requiem for Methuselah," in which Kirk has an underwritten love affair with a clueless woman whose various secrets have to be discovered before her inevitable death.

At one point in this relationship, her.......uh, guardian??? sort of???????? had Spock play the piano while she and Kirk waltzed, which (in-story) Spock did perfectly while somehow managing to silently exude even more intensity than usual. After the plot (and her life) were over, we end not with the usual cheerful bit of snark on the bridge that ends most episodes, but with a weary Kirk falling asleep with his head on his arms and Spock hovering not for away. McCoy exposits the last bit of detail and then goes on an unprompted and honestly pretty viciously racist speech about how Spock, unlike Kirk, will never suffer from the joys and travails of love because of his inherent lack of feeling as a Vulcan. The speech is longer than usual and just really mean-spirited as McCoy waxes rhapsodic about all the aspects of passionate true love that Spock will not and cannot experience as a Vulcan before he just leaves.

Spock then turns to look at Kirk, and now just bleeding intensity, takes a few slow, deliberate steps towards the sleeping Kirk, lays his hand against Kirk's cheek and neck, and then very obviously mind melds with the sleeping Kirk while murmuring, "Forget."

Is this healthy respectful behavior that honors Kirk's autonomy? No, obviously. Is it god-tier repressed homoerotic passion between two people who should probably just work their issues out and stop inflicting themselves on anyone else? Yes.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

~

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

[bodega-catto]

Gojo fell first AND hardest what a gay disaster

[goldetrash]

INFINITY NIKKI CH7 SPOLIERS

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

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GIOVANNI IS JUST AN ANTI-HERO I CAN SIMP FOR HIM FULLY NOW

GIOVANNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

[graveyardgayme]

Part II of WillMack being Totally "We Are A Set" Normal about each other, ft. a recap of the BU vs BC rivalry and living arrangements.

Will "We both got lucky... to live with the Thornton family and I'm living with the Marleaus" Smith and Macklin "It's awesome, we were both blessed by both their families to take us in" Celebrini when asked, individually, about Sharks mentors/their specific living arrangements.

[Full 10 min on sharks site & my twitter thread where I posted it split up into clips.]

[serpentface]

Don't get too attached

[purple-petrichor]

Thinking about 457 and. You know it’s a toxic ship when No Children by The Mountain Goats would actually be…too optimistic for them

[phoebespenglers]

can we please stop telling people to kill themselves and to rot in hell and that they deserve to be bullied and that they are inherently horrible people who deserve to die and get doxxed. please. can we please stop doing that.

[pepperf]

Pop quiz, hotshots! Which would you rather have:

A relationship that, when it goes wrong, you can tell the other person that you need a break to reassess your relationship, and they will discuss this calmly, let you go, and then go away and think about what you said, agree that they were in the wrong, and start working on ways to fix their own behaviour;

OR

A relationship that, when you want to leave, they tell you that you don't really want to go, that you're happier with them, that you should isolate yourself from your family and friends so you can stay with them - and when you disagree and tell them the relationship is just a matter of necessity, they start in on your other relationship (which they have apparently decided is the reason you're going back, despite you making no mention of it), telling you that it's broken, that you shouldn't go back to him - and when you tell them to butt out of your personal business, they tell you they're entitled to have an opinion because you've been stranded alone together for a long time...

Is that or is that not what happened? Because I remember Lila making herself pretty clear on these points, but apparently a bunch of people think we should disregard a woman's expressed opinion about her own life, and go with what she's being told. Because Five knows best, amirite? Gosh he's so smart and clever! And he deserves this - he deserves Lila, no matter what Lila herself says. He's owed it by the universe, because he had a bad life.

Lila did have another relationship like that, where she was told what to do, kept in the dark, told that the other person knew what was best for her...and it wasn't Diego.

[fishwikipedia]

alternate universe where yuta covering hobbs’ eyes was intentionally done to convey a sense of lingering internal conflict with what he’s doing and an urge to comfort him like what pac did with him at All Out. alternate universe where i was not bludgeoning my forehead with a rock

[reds-hoodies]

Once in a Life Time (pt2)

MDNI

Tags: Red Hood x Goon!Reader, GN!Reader, Oral (Male Receiving), Mildy Dubious Consent, Dom!Red Hood

Word Count: ~1k

Author’s Note: Here’s the second part! Also, I feel like this fits the UTRH!Jason better, but you can imagine any version you want! Also, also! This hasn’t been proofread so please lmk if there’s any mistakes!!

Enjoy!

Prev

Red Hood’s imposing figure blocked out the light from where you now knelt before him, pressed between him and the concrete wall. Your hands, as he ordered, were not to touch him or yourself. They were tucked under your bottom.

You winced internally at the thought of how sore you were going to be after all this. If you make it out of this.

Which, again, you didn’t mind either way.

The vigilante swiftly removed his gloves and shoved them into his back pocket. One of his hands dropped to his belt and began to unbuckle it, and your eyes, almost against your will, drop to follow the action.

He made quick work of his pants, unbuttoned and unzipped them and pushed them down just enough to reveal himself.

Dark, coarse hair trailed down from under his shirt. It thickened around his cock in charming curls and thinned over his thighs. He’s already heavy and it bobbed in front of you like a prize to be won.

You licked your drying lips and swallowed thickly, a heat began to build up in your core. Never have you wanted something in your mouth so badly.

Red Hood’s fingers tangled in your hair and the other hand gripped himself, stroking almost leisurely. It filled out slowly before your eyes, flushed at the tip and twitching.

“You want it?” He teased, and used the grip in your hair to pull you closer. You nod silently, not trusting your voice to be anything but a whine.

The heat emanating from him washed over you and his heady smell filled your senses.

The hand in your hair slid down to the base of your neck and tilted your head up— your eyes begrudgingly tear from his dick to flicker to his own masked ones.

Red Hood tapped the velvety head of his cock against your lips, lightly smearing his precum there.

“Open.”

And after quickly sucking in your bottom lip, greedy to get a taste of him, you obey.

He tilted his hips forward and pushed himself past your lips with a sigh. His cock, salty and hot, dragged upon your tongue and he filled your mouth. A whimpering moan fell unabashedly from you as your eyes fluttered closed.

He pushed, and pushed, and pushed until he’s prodding against the back of your throat and he paused. It took everything in you to keep your jaw open and fight against your gag reflex.

“Fuck, almost..” He pulled back a beat, giving you just enough time to take a breath, then pressed back in. You feel him bully past the back of your throat and tears well up in your eyes. The curls at the base of his shaft press against your nose and his pelvis against your lips.

He groaned a curse and held there for a second, then five, before he pulled back out. His dick left your lips and you gasped for air and tried to swallow the mix of saliva and precum that accumulated in your mouth.

“You good there?” He laughed breathily, his hand stroked his now spit-slick dick, breaking the string of saliva that connected it to you. His fingers readjusted their grip on your head, and he brought himself closer again.

You nodded dazedly, eyes trained on the way his hand moved back and forth over himself. You dropped your jaw, ready and waiting for him to enter you again.

And he began to fuck into your mouth, holding your head still with both hands now and moving in short, steady thrusts. It’s a pace you found yourself relaxing to, and you closed your eyes, easing into the rhythm, flicking your tongue over his head each time he pulled out.

“God dammit- What do you want?” Your eyes snap open at his harsh tone and look up. Red Hood held the side of his helmet and spoke, but it didn’t seem directed at you.

Was he..? Was he talking to someone over comms?

His conversation continued. All the while, his pace never faltered, his hips kept rocking into you and, Jesus— you moaned— that’s hot as hell.

“Look, figure it out. I’m busy right now.” And with that, he brought his hand back to you. He increased his pace, holding your head still as he ground into your mouth. His cock slid deeper and his breathing got harsher.

He curled over you and widened his stance. His fingertips dig into your jaw and hair, and he fucked your mouth with wild abandon.

You’re getting sloppy— the drool drips down your chin, filthy slurps fall from your lips, but you don’t care.

You need it.

Your mind went hazy with want as his gasps and curses echoed around you, when-

“Shit, shit, shit..!” Your mouth was once again, left devastatingly empty. The masked vigilante quickly pulled himself out, but when you whined and leaned forward to follow he held you steadfast in an almost painful grip.

Instead, he pressed his leaking, wet cockhead to your outstretched tongue then began to pump himself furiously. His fist bumped your lip in a ‘Tap Tap Tap’ until he keened over you with a muffled groan. Thick, hot spurts of his cum filled your open mouth.

He shook and shivered through his orgasm, watching his seed fill your mouth. Your eyes followed how his chest heaved with each breath and how his arms flexed under the leather of his jacket as he slowed to a stop.

There’s a lot of cum. Like, almost too much. It began to dribble out the corner of your lips, but you closed around him before it could drip out.

And swallowed.

He was salty, bitter, and something else that was so unexplainably Red Hood that it had you going back for more. You lapped at the tip of him, suckling for anything he had left and licked him clean.

With a hiss, he pulled his sensitive dick out of your mouth with a wet ‘Pop!’. You licked your lips and glanced back up at the man before you.

You weren’t sure what he was thinking under that red mask of his, but you felt the weight of his eyes rove over you.

His hand released your head and came to rest on your jaw. He cocked his head to the side in thought.

And you had a thought of your own: Maybe… You could convince the boss to give you more solo jobs.

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