#i know i can do it if i put my mind to it i KNOW i can do it i have just been like (ramming head against wall) agshbd

[muqingslover]

Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

Xavier

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

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Zayne

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

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Caleb

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

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Sylus

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

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Rafayel

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

[ellealyssum]

put it all to rest ✦ sylus x reader ✦ fluff ✦ 900 words

insomnia's a bitch. good thing your man sleeps odd hours, too.

insomnia, cuddling, literal sleeping together, gn!reader

this is my first fic in many many years so please forgive me if it sucks... i have trouble sleeping and i love sylus so much

also on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 You turn over in bed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. No matter how tired your body felt, no matter how many times you yawned, sleep was still evading you. Stretching your arm out from under the covers, you check your watch that you'd left on the nightstand.

 3:56am. Three hours until you have to be up to get ready for work, if you still want time to brush your hair and shove some breakfast down on your way out the door, that is. It probably didn't help that the N109 zone was twice as far from the Hunter's Association as your apartment. 

 Pressing your face into the cool silk pillow, you mentally beg your brain to just shut up for five damn minutes. You didn't even have much to weigh on your mind tonight. The thoughts circling around your mind were all utterly trivial, but just enough to ward off the sweet relief of sleep. 

 What would the chef have ready for breakfast in the morning? Would the traffic be bad? Worse than usual? Have there been any accidents? They're a common occurrence in the N109 zone. People around these parts seem to love driving recklessly. Including the man whose bed you were trying, and failing, to sleep in right now. 

 Sylus had left around 10pm, being sure to give you your obligatory goodnight kiss on his way out. It was then that you had settled himself into his bed, expecting a restful night wrapped in soft sheets that smelled of soap and expensive cologne and him. He had promised you, quietly, lips inches from your own, that he would be home before you woke up in the morning. He didn't realise at the time that his promise was impossible to keep, because at this rate you would never have any sleep to wake up from.

 Through the silence of the base you hear a door shut and footsteps on the tiled floor. You know from their rhythm that Sylus was home, as if he were summoned by your thoughts. He lets out a brief sigh as he reaches the bedroom door. Whatever meeting or deal he had just returned from had probably been tedious, as usual. Not wanting to concern him with your lack of sleep, you roll away from the door and focus on slowing your breathing. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

 Sylus gently opens the door, being as quiet as he can as to not disturb you. Even after a hard day of work, your comfort was still his top priority. The lush carpet softens his footfalls as he makes his across the room. The gentle rustle of his shirt being removed and placed on the armchair reaches your ears. The bed dips slightly as he sit on the mattress, shucking off his shoes before reclining against the headboard.

 "I know you're awake, kitten."

 You should have known you can't fool him.

 You whine in frustration as you turn to look up at him. You know your eyes must be tired and red, but he doesn't mention it.

 "What's wrong, sweetie?" he asks, calloused fingers brushing the hair from your forehead.

 "Can't sleep," you mumble, slightly embarrassed at your apparent inability to do something so simple.

 "Too many thoughts racing around that pretty head of yours, hmm?" The corner of his lips twitch upwards into an affectionate smirk. He always said you thought too much.

 "I wish they would stop," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to stem the tears you could feel coming. The last six hours of frustration had reached a boiling point.

 Sylus slides down the bed to be level with you, pulling you into his chest. You feel his lips against your scalp and his strong hands on your back.

 "It's okay, darling."

You sniffle against his skin and try to wipe your tears with back of your hand.

 "But I have work tomorrow!"

 "That can be changed." His usually teasing tone has dissipated, leaving behind only sincerity. "Sick days exist for a reason. Besides, you really shouldn't be confronting wanderers on no sleep. I'm sure the association would prefer for you to be well rested."

 You always had a hard time justifying taking a day off to yourself. Despite trying, you can never escape the feeling that you're letting your team down, letting yourself down, not being strong enough to deal with something as silly as an overactive mind.

 As usual, it's as if Sylus can read your thoughts. He pulls back to meet your gaze.

 "Linkon's Hunter's Association won't collapse because their star employee took one day off."

 His brilliant ruby eyes are soft, as if pleading with you. You have to admit he's right.

 "Stay," he breathes, kissing your tired eyelids. "Stay with me, right here, in my arms. Please, sweetie."

 This man always finds a way to melt your heart.

 You snuggle closer to him as he pulls the covers over himself. His slacks and socks are still on, but he doesn't seem to care. He'd rather hold you than change.

 You place a kiss over his heart, winding your legs with his. The material of his trousers is soft and his body is warm. You mind slowly, finally, stops spinning.

 Somehow, the world always feels a little simpler in his arms.

[somerandomcockroach]

Closed (Not every bank accepts payments on Boosty or Hipolink, I'm just warning in case your bank won't work with it)

I would of course prefer characters I know and already drew before (including aus and stuff if you have something on mind), I can continue anything of mine or do something new with or without music you'd like to use (or I can be set free with just thrown ship name at me bruh ahah) Putting everything I can do on the store stall like a salesman from game with the prices that only millionaires can afford: 150$ for 20-30 seconds for such animatics example 1 | example 2 | example 3 with more colors, effects and stuff 80$ for 20 seconds of more messy animations example 1 or same for 30 seconds of animatic example 2 30$ for 1 second full damn lined and colored animation (including simple backgrounds) example 1 | example 2 or might be 20$ for trashly lined example 3

I can animate almost anything as long as it is sfw, slightly suggestive is acceptable, I would like to firstly listen what you'd like

If no one will be interested in anything in 3 days I close my shop ahah

[animegirlrunningwithtoast]

The struggle to forgive the manipulated who realise they were wrong, is as old as humans are. And no one put it as well as this single comic that is burned into my mind

For some of these maga folk leaving, them leaving is them losing their families, their friends. In some communities it means losing access to social services, fair treatment from others or open hostility from once friendly people etc. it can mean police targeting.

They were manipulated. They are often poor, marginalized people too, frequently with disabilities, in rural areas and limited access to education or potentially even the internet. And they are still leaving.

SFU did a study on people leaving extremit spaces and this rejection, being left without your old community and no access to any new ones is the biggest barrier cited. No man is an island, especially one in the midst of identity death and rebirth, they need to exist somewhere.

So you know what I get it. I get our discomfort I honour our hurt but these people are doing something courageous and the least we can do as a political body is to be polite, if not celebrate.

This is an interesting thing. Looks like testimonies of people who left the MAGA movement- how they got into it and why.

Leaving a cult is really hard, so I really respect the people who are speaking from this place.

[xcherryc2x]

The roles have been reversed. Toji Fushiguro is your landlord…..How do you pay rent with no money???

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷

Toji x femreader Wordcount: 1.3k

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ

"Slower…slower…unggghhhh…please go s-slower"

The whole bed is rocking back and forth. You swear it's an earthquake in your room. The ceiling light looks like it could fall any moment right onto you both

The man whose fucking you is so huge. His dick is fucking you up, it hurts so good.

he knows you secretly like it rough, which is why he doesn't take all your whining seriously. He always wants to see just how much more can you take.

You didn't really have a choice here. He's gonna keep ramming his thick cock into your tight cunt like there's no tommrow

Your moans get muffled by the pillow your holding onto for life. Although your relationship with this man may be undeclared, you are definitely sure about one thing, he has an insatiable sex drive

"Toji l'm begging you.. no more. we already did it in the morning"

It's true, he had dropped by unexpectedly right when you woke up earlier today, demanding you strip and bend over.

But considering the short time between then and now. Your whole body is much more sensitive reacting to each and everyone of his naughty touches.

He’s going to fast and hard, he's just ignoring your pleading, you're begging him to be more gentle

But instead he just keeps thrusting and leans down, holding you by your chin to kiss your puffy lips, with so much lust, this is his best attempt to shut you up. He loves the way you look back at him

His tight squeeze on your butt is making red indentations. You just wish his grip was a bit less aggressive, you weren't gonna run away or anything, you know there is no way to escape this tank of a man

"Stop... *squelch* ..complaing *squelch* ...when this hungry hole of yours can't seem to let me go" his heavy breaths combine with his low laughing.

"...you fucking whore"

The way he dominates over you "puts you in your place" ...has made you develop a certain attachment to him

Between his degrading responses, he leaves hickeys all over your nape and soft shoulders even biting the side of your neck, causing you to clench your pussy, suffocating his massive cock. He groans and moans softly, bucking his hips with more force.

He's desperate to do his favourite thing as of late. Filling up your greedy cunt with his creamy cum. He knows your desperate you are for it too. They way your toes curl right when you orgasm and your body shivers expecting him to finish right with you. You're just waiting for him to cum inside.

This is how you pay your landlord and you're ashamed of it.

The sex was so mind blowing that you never really had the chance to really think about what you were really doing

But in reality your body was being used...used by the most sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. You find everything about him attractive, to the way he talks to how good he is at aftercare

But you often wonder, how will you ever develop or even create a proper relationship if he only sees you to fuck you, and the way he fucks you makes you incapable to speak after...every single time.

You just wish you had money so you could pay him real payments.

But your a full time college student, broke with no time for a job

You've tried to talk to him about this before but they way he always undresses you with his eyes just makes you forget anything that was ever in your mind.

After he finishes in you, you sigh in relief, maybe now's your chance to talk

"Toji, I-I was thinking about getting a job or something...u-uh so I could like pay you for real"

You don't move to face him. You choose to stay in the ass up face down position he's left you in, he's finally taking his big hands off your poor butt

But he keeps his dick inside of you as he whispers into your ear,

"you're my slut, so I don't need the money"

You do not respond. You're shameless pussy does all the talking instead. It started to pulse and twitch around his dick. Causing him to smirk at your reaction

He starts moving again, this time at a more manageable pace, making you feel every vien on his dick rub inside your walls

But alas, you do not have much strength left as you realiz hands are once again on your back holding you up, preventing you from collapsing

"You get tried so quickly baby...try your best to keep up"

how can he say that while he hasn't given you a proper break since you started??

You are no stranger to Toji's strength, after all he uses so much of it on you. Carrying you bridal style, holding you up against the wall, using his buff arms to trap you close. You can remember many past instances like those. This time you cum again rather quickly. you've lost count of how many orgasms you had.

Because of his semen pooling up in you, his dick is able to reach even deeper, sliding in easily with each thrust

"it's too.. deep" you whine still knowing he will just try harder to go further in

"Where is it?" He asks with a cocky expression

You stick out your ass more as you place your hand on your stomach. You feel the bulge his dick makes. He puts his hand on your hand pressing up on your belly making you whimper.

"Can you feel it better now hmm"

You don't know why but you nod. After seeing you have finally stopped whining a bit he starts talking again in a low voice

"I'm sorry for being rough...honestly I just can't help myself" his voice is so deep and manly you could listen to him talk for hours.

He pulls out and takes a sip of water from the nightstand. He thinks you can't take anymore

Your cheeks blush a dark shade of pink, why does he talk so sweet all of a sudden. You really feel humiliated now.

The whole time you were practically begging him to stop slower and now you want him to continue after he stopped on his own??? After he apologized so sweetly??

Were you that much of a whore that the moment he pulled out, you wish he didn't

He starts kissing you all over your back, trying to get you to face him and lay on your back but you wouldn't budge. He's never really forceful with you, you know his dirty talk is always an act to get you as wet as possible. A trail of his his saliva on your back from affectionate kisses making you feel adored.

You are embarrassed by the fact that you want another round

But you don't know what your doing to him. He's trying his hardest, controlling himself not to put his dick back into your gaping hole filled with his fluids.

He tries to hold himself back instead, continuing to kiss the back of your thighs, moving his face closer and closer to the inside of your legs, inches away from your dripping pussy.

Of course he's teasing you by not let his lips actually reach your needy pussy, but his hot breath on it, is making you squirm underneath his tight embrace

"Toji...can we do it again... please?" you say extremely quietly

He knew you would give in. His dick has stayed rock hard but your words are now making it throb

"you're such a slut for me baby, m'gonna fuck you so hard you're gonna regret asking"

He thrusted in you with so much force, at the same time pulling you towards him to take all of him in at once. Yup, you definitely beileved what he just said.

And so he does as promised and you try your best not to pass out while he fucks you sensless for the remainder of the night😊

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷

[whosashan]

Hiii! I’m sorry I couldn’t find if you were open for requests or not so if you don’t take any at this moment please ignore this.

I really love your style of writing and I was wondering about how lads boys would react if MC asked them if they are in love with her or who she was in the past life. I know with Caleb and Zayne it can be tricky but I was thinking that maybe Zayne remembered his past or like MC suddenly remembered everything? That’s just an idea I had in my mind.

Anyways like I said please ignore this request if you don’t take any at this moment or you don’t like that idea!

Have a nice day❤️

Who do you love?

A/N:Hi there! Thank you for your request. You didn't specify if you want it to be more angsty or strictly fluffy, so I did a bit of both ;p I tried to base it off of their myth's, but since I don't have Sylus' and Rafayel's memory cards, I eyeballed it. I hope you'll like it, any feedback is greatly appreciated :] Have a nice day!

For a while now, an insidious question has gnawed at the recesses of your mind. Perhaps it stems from deep-seated insecurities, a relentless curiosity, or something more profound and unsettling.

Since uncovering the intricate tapestry of your past with your lover, a disquieting thought has taken root: are you merely a stand-in for someone who no longer exists? The paradox is maddening—you find yourself envious of a former self. The notion pierces your heart with a sharp, unyielding pain, knowing that there was once another—ironically, another version of you—who preceded you. That person was, undeniably, their one true love.

You grapple with the tormenting thought: are you genuinely the one he loves now, or are you simply a surrogate, a shadow of the past?

Xavier

The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, shadows flickering against the walls, casting elongated shapes that danced with every shift of the flames. The air was warm, thick with the scent of wax and faint traces of Xavier’s smell - something so uniquely him.

He laid across the couch, head resting on your thighs, his platinum hair spilling like silk over your lap. Your fingers moved through the strands absentmindedly, tracing over his scalp in slow, rhythmic motions, just the way you knew he liked. His breathing was steady, his body relaxed, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt peaceful. Intimate. Safe.

But your thoughts refused to be still.

You wondered—had he been like this with her too? Had she tangled her fingers in his hair just as you did now? Had she peppered his cheeks with soft kisses, stolen those rare, beautiful laughs that you cherished so much?

The thought shouldn’t sting. It was you, after all. The past version of you, the one whose fate had already been entwined with his long before you even remembered him. And yet, there was a weight in your chest, something heavy, something bitter—regret? Uncertainty? You should have been grateful. It was you. It had always been you. But still, the question gnawed at you.

How different was she?

Did her smile tilt the same way? Did she struggle to keep her hair neat, no matter how much effort she put into it? When she laughed, did her cheeks lift high enough to crinkle the corners of her eyes?

The flickering candlelight traced soft golden hues over Xavier’s face, his lashes casting delicate shadows against his cheekbones. His beauty was almost inhuman, sculpted and refined, made even softer by the haze of drowsiness settling over him. He was close to sleep, lulled by your touch. Maybe it was cruel to ask now, to shatter this moment of quiet serenity.

But you couldn’t stop yourself.

You inhaled sharply, trying to gather the courage that had been slipping through your fingers. And then, in a voice barely above a whisper—

"What was she like?"

The silence stretched.

You thought, for a moment, that he had already fallen asleep, that your question would go unanswered. Relief and disappointment tangled together in your chest, neither strong enough to win over the other.

Then, his voice, soft yet weighted.

"Who are you asking about?"

His head shifted slightly, his dark lashes fluttering open just enough for blue eyes to meet yours. There was exhaustion in them, slight confusion, as if you had pulled him from the edge of sleep. Your fingers stilled in his hair, and he let out a quiet, displeased groan at the loss of comfort.

"Her. I mean… me. The past me." The words felt clumsy, uncertain. How were you even supposed to ask something like this?

Xavier’s brows knit together for a second, a flicker of thought crossing his face before his expression settled back into something unreadable.

"You were the same person you are now." His reply was immediate, almost dismissive, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But that wasn’t enough.

"I want you to be more specific." Your voice was barely above a breath, but there was something desperate beneath it.

He exhaled, fingers idly drawing slow, deliberate circles on your thigh, as if the motion would somehow ease whatever storm was brewing inside you.

"She was… eccentric," he finally said, his voice quiet, thoughtful. A pause. A hesitation. "Always stubborn. Always insistent. Never knowing when to give up." A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "Not that much different from you now."

You scoffed, more out of reflex than humor. "Should I feel insulted?" you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite.

But then, as quickly as the moment of levity had come, it was gone again. The question that had been clawing at your ribs threatened to spill from your lips.

And then—

"Did you love her more?"

It barely came out, the words fragile, splintering even as they left you. Your entire body tensed.

Xavier’s hand stilled against your thigh. For the first time, something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe even hurt. Slowly, he lifted his head, pushing himself up until he was finally at eye level with you. His gaze studied you intently, tracing every furrow of your brow, every small tension in your lips.

And then, gently—so, so gently—he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that sent warmth curling through your chest. He was close now, so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, his warmth wrapping around you like a quiet promise.

"I would love every form of you the same." His voice was steady, unwavering. "For me, you will always be the one. Whether it’s the you from before, the you now, or the you in another lifetime. It doesn’t matter if you were human, a fairy, or even a worm."

A small, teasing smirk curled his lips at the end, a deliberate attempt to ease the tension, to coax a reaction from you. And it worked—heat crept up your neck, settling in your cheeks, and despite everything, you felt the ghost of a flustered pout forming on your lips.

Xavier leaned in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to the tip of your nose, before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze once more.

"Never doubt yourself again, hm?"

And then, without waiting for an answer, he pulled you into his arms, tucking you against his chest, your face fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck. His embrace was warm, steady, grounding. The kind of touch that made all your doubts seem small, insignificant.

Because even if your question hadn’t been answered completely, even if some part of you still ached for something more—there was one thing you were certain of.

He never made you feel like she was better. He never made you feel like you had to compete with your own past.

For Xavier, it was always you.

Zayne

The only sound in the dimly lit room was the rhythmic clicking of keyboard keys, an almost hypnotic cadence breaking through the thick silence. The golden glow of Zayne’s desk lamp illuminated the contours of his sharp features, casting long shadows over his workspace. He sat with his usual meticulous posture, his frame effortlessly composed, exuding an air of quiet authority even in something as mundane as working. The reflection of his laptop screen glimmered faintly against his glasses, obscuring the rich hazel depths of his eyes.

Across the room, you lounged on the couch, your body half-sunk into the plush cushions, a book resting open in your lap. Despite the separate worlds you were both immersed in, there was a comfort in just existing beside him—his presence was grounding, a constant anchor in a sea of uncertainties.

Your gaze trailed over the words printed on the page. A romance novel—one that struck too close to home. It told the story of a man who spent lifetimes searching for his lover, chasing fragments of them across time, waiting for fate to intertwine them once more.

“Is it really me you love? Or the person—the people—I used to be?”

The line cut through you like glass, burrowing itself deep into the pit of your stomach.

Your fingers hesitated over the page as your eyes flickered toward Zayne. He remained at his desk, seemingly lost in his work, his expression unreadable. His dark hair fell slightly over his face, a few strands brushing against the thin frames of his glasses. Even when exhausted, he looked composed—controlled.

It was foolish, perhaps, to ask. You knew how he hated to be interrupted when he was deep in thought, yet you also knew yourself. If you didn’t speak now, the words would fester, gnawing at you like a wound left untreated.

"Zayne."

His name left your lips barely above a murmur, but he heard you. He always did.

His fingers stilled over the keyboard, his posture shifting as he leaned back into his chair slightly. He turned to you, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his jawline.

"Yes, love?" His voice was deep, slightly hoarse from disuse, carrying with it a subtle weight of exhaustion.

You hesitated. Just for a moment.

Sensing it, Zayne pushed his laptop aside and stood, his movements slow, deliberate. Without a word, he made his way toward you, his presence a steady force as he settled beside you on the couch. Lifting your legs with ease, he draped them over his lap, his fingers resting absentmindedly against your ankle. His warmth bled into you, solid and grounding.

Encouraged by the gesture, you swallowed and forced yourself to ask the question that had been lingering in your mind for far too long.

"What was my past self like?"

His brows lifted slightly, his fingers pausing their absentminded movements. "That’s a rather unexpected question," he murmured, adjusting his glasses—a telltale sign of nervousness, though he would never admit it. "What’s brought this on?"

You frowned. "Don’t change the subject."

A subtle exhale left him, barely audible, but you caught it. You knew him well enough to recognize when he was trying to sidestep something.

"I don't remember everything." His voice was measured, but there was a slight tightness to it. "Fragments, maybe. Fleeting pieces that don’t quite form a complete picture. But from what I do recall…" He trailed off, adjusting his glasses again before continuing.

"She wasn’t so different from you now." His tone was contemplative, as if choosing his words carefully. "Determined. Unyielding. Always knew what she wanted and wouldn’t rest until she got it." A small pause. "Much like you."

Your lips pressed into a thin line. That answer—it wasn’t enough.

"Did you love her more?" The words came out before you could stop them.

This time, his reaction was immediate. His entire body tensed, his fingers tightening just slightly against your leg—not enough to hurt, but enough for you to notice.

His eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across his expression before it smoothed into something composed once more.

"As far as I’m concerned, she is you. Every version of you—past, present, future—exists within the same soul, deeply ingrained in me. To compare them would be a fruitless endeavor. There has never been a question of more or less—there is only you."

His voice was even, unwavering, but there was a weight to his words, something deeper lying beneath them. A certainty so absolute that you almost felt ridiculous for asking.

Still, a part of you felt… silly. Jealous over yourself. How insecure could you be?

But it wasn’t insecurity, was it? It was the cruel weight of uncertainty, the knowledge that there were pieces of yourself you might never truly remember. And that truth would always linger, like a ghost in the back of your mind.

Zayne, ever perceptive, seemed to sense the turmoil playing behind your eyes. He lifted his hand, his fingers trailing up your arm before settling against your own, giving it a light squeeze. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a grounding gesture.

A smirk—barely there, but unmistakable—tugged at the corner of your lips as you met his gaze. "Is that so? Then tell me more."

Zayne let out a soft, resigned sigh, shaking his head just slightly. But even as he feigned reluctance, there was the unmistakable ghost of a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

And somehow, even if your question wasn’t entirely answered, even if you knew the uncertainty would return again someday—right now, his presence was enough.

Rafayel

Laughter filled the dimly lit bedroom, loud and breathless, bouncing off the walls as you squirmed beneath Rafayel’s relentless assault. His fingers moved with precision, ghosting over your sides, tracing over sensitive spots he had long since memorized. Your body arched in protest, hands weakly attempting to shove him away, but he was stronger, faster—his lips curled in amusement as he watched you crumble beneath his touch.

"Alright, it's enough!" You gasped between helpless giggles, trying—failing—to inject authority into your voice. The demand might have carried weight if not for the way laughter cracked through it, rendering it powerless.

Still, Rafayel, ever the merciful tormentor, finally relented. With a low chuckle, he slowed his movements, his hands instead settling on your waist, fingers splayed lazily over your hips as if he had all the time in the world. Then, in a gesture as disarming as it was tender, he leaned in, pressing playful kisses across your cheeks, your nose, the corners of your lips—each one stealing the remnants of your breath.

Your smile only widened, cheeks flushed a warm pink.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was already watching you, his usual mischief softened by something more dangerous—something deeper. His dark hair framed his face in perfect disarray, stray strands falling over his forehead, and his striking blue-pink eyes shimmered with something unreadable.

"You're killing me, cutie." His voice was honeyed, teasing, yet laced with a quiet reverence. "From all that laughing, I figured you loved my fingers on you. Should I take that as a request?"

A flick to his forehead wiped the smirk off his lips.

He gasped dramatically, cradling the spot as if you had mortally wounded him. "Now, you need to kiss it better!" His pout was exaggerated, his dramatic flair in full effect, yet beneath the playful act was a calculated charm—one that had always made him so dangerously captivating.

Rolling your eyes, you indulged him, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his forehead. The faint imprint of your lipstick lingered, and you smirked to yourself, deciding to keep that detail to yourself. It suited him, after all.

Rafayel hummed in satisfaction, but then his expression shifted. "That’s slightlyyy better." A pause. "Now, how about we order some seafood?" His lips curved into a small, knowing smile, his tone lighthearted.

And yet—your stomach dropped.

Your expression faltered, barely perceptible, but Rafayel caught it instantly. His head tilted slightly, amusement fading into mild confusion. "What is it? Wasn't it your favorite?"

Your blood ran cold.

"I told you—multiple times—I hate seafood." Your voice was steady, but the weight behind it was anything but. It wasn’t the mistake itself that stung—it was the realization that followed.

It was her favorite.

The realization came like a blade, cutting through you mercilessly. The past you—the before you—the version of yourself that had lived and loved Rafayel long before your memories had been wiped away.

You weren’t her. You weren’t the one he had fallen for first.

The air in the room felt heavier now, thick with unspoken words.

Rafayel’s face fell. His usual mask of arrogance slipped, replaced by something fleeting—regret, guilt, self-reproach. He cursed himself under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Ah—sorry… we'll get Chinese, yeah?" His voice, usually so smooth, so effortless, now carried an edge of uncertainty. He was scrambling. He knew he had messed up.

But the damage had already been done.

Because you finally saw it—the cracks in his reassurances. The way his stories about her had painted a picture you could never quite step into. She had been different. More confident. More cunning. More effortlessly herself.

More like the version of you that you always wished to be.

Your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, you turned away from him. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Not now.

"Cutie…" His voice dropped to a murmur, gentle, coaxing. You felt his fingers ghost toward your cheek, but you recoiled before he could touch you.

That reaction made something shift in him.

The softness vanished, replaced by something colder. His jaw tensed, his lips parting slightly in what could have been a plea—but he hesitated.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat.

"Did you love her more, Rafayel?"

The words cut through the silence like a blade. There was no teasing lilt in your voice, no room for him to twist the moment into something playful. No. This time, you weren’t giving him an escape.

His body went rigid, his lips parting slightly as if the sheer audacity of the question had momentarily stolen his breath. Then, panic flickered in his eyes—just for a second.

"What?—Of course not!" The words left him too quickly, too forcefully. "I mean, god, you're the same person." His voice was rough, desperate, but the way he said it—like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you—made your stomach churn.

"Liar."

A whisper. Sharp. Accusing.

You pushed yourself up, slipping from his grasp, but Rafayel moved fast, his fingers catching your wrist before you could step away. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to make you halt.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." Your voice wavered, but your resolve did not. "I can't—I don't want to talk to you right now."

He tensed. "Y/N, don’t do this—"

"I need time." You exhaled, voice gentler now, but firm. "We’ll talk when I’m ready."

You didn’t wait for his reply.

The moment you slipped from his grasp, the warmth of his touch faded, replaced by the chilling weight of distance. And as you walked toward the door, you felt his gaze burning into your back.

But he didn’t chase you.

Not this time.

And as the door shut behind you, leaving Rafayel alone on his vast, king-sized bed, you both knew—

This wasn’t the end of the conversation.

Not even close.

Sylus

The silk sheets pooled beneath you as you sat on Sylus' bed, the fabric smooth against your skin. The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in golden hues, casting long shadows as you rummaged through the bags at your feet—your most recent indulgence. Or rather, his indulgence.

"You didn’t have to buy all this for me, you know," you murmured without looking up, fingers brushing over the expensive fabrics, the scent of luxury still clinging to them.

Across from you, Sylus leaned against the grand headboard, his arms lazily crossed, an amused smirk playing at his lips. His crimson eyes glimmered under the dim light, ever watchful, ever knowing.

"And yet, somehow, I still managed to," he mused, his voice a smooth melody laced with amusement. "Truly tragic, how I remain cursed with wealth and the urge to spoil you."

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

"Why don’t you give me a fashion show, sweetie?" he suggested, tilting his head slightly.

Your excitement sparked instantly. You barely spared him a glance before gathering the bags and rushing into the bathroom, the sound of his low chuckle following you as you disappeared behind the door.

As you sifted through the clothes, something caught your eye—a dress you didn’t remember picking out. The color was… odd. Not bad, necessarily, but definitely not something you would have chosen for yourself. It washed you out in a way that felt unnatural, like a version of you that wasn’t quite right.

Sylus.

You sighed, shaking your head with a fond smile. He had excellent taste; he’d picked out dresses for you before—ones that flattered your figure, ones that made you feel effortlessly beautiful. But this? This felt like it belonged to someone else.

Still, you slipped it on. It’s always nice to try something new, you reasoned. And besides, you could always return it.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you straightened your posture, putting on your best model walk as you sauntered toward him with a small, playful smile.

Sylus’ gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate.

"You look ravishing," he murmured, his deep voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. He pushed off the headboard and closed the space between you in an instant, his hands slipping to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you, warm and intoxicating.

"You think?" you asked, though your gaze drifted downward again, fingers idly smoothing over the fabric.

"That’s a rather interesting choice, boss." The nickname was teasing, but there was a layer of curiosity beneath it. "I don’t think I like this color on me, but if you do… I suppose I’ll wear it anyway."

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"Nonsense," he dismissed easily. "You’ve always looked stunning in this color. Or any color, for that matter, kitten."

Something in your chest twisted.

Your brows knitted together slightly as you peered up at him. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe he meant nothing by it. And yet—

"I’ve never worn this color before, though." You chuckled, keeping your tone light, masking the unease settling at the edges of your mind.

Sylus said nothing at first. A beat of silence stretched between you, but his grip didn’t falter. His expression remained unreadable, except for the slight glint of something in his crimson eyes—something calculated.

You knew this game. You knew how he played.

He was refined, meticulous with his words, carefully measured in everything he did. Sylus didn’t make mistakes.

And yet, you had caught one.

He loved you. That, you never doubted. His devotion was absolute, unwavering. But there was always this—this lingering ghost of someone else. A woman you had once been. A woman you no longer remembered. A woman you weren’t even sure you were.

And yet, she still lived here. In his mind. In his stories. In his memories of you.

"I can practically hear your mind working." His voice was smooth, but there was a quiet edge to it. "Speak."

You hesitated. You didn’t want to ruin the moment. Didn’t want to pick at something that might unravel everything.

"You seem to like reminiscing about the past," you finally said, keeping your voice even, careful.

His eyes darkened slightly.

"Of course," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Why wouldn’t I? The moments I’ve spent with the one I love should not be forgotten."

Your chest tightened.

He didn’t see it the way you did. To him, the past and the present were intertwined, threads of the same existence. But to you? The past felt like it belonged to someone else entirely.

"Is that so?" Your lips curved into a wry smile, though the bitterness in your voice was barely concealed. "Then tell me, Sylus—who do you love more? Her or me?"

It was meant to sound like a joke. A playful jab. But the moment the words left your lips, the room shifted. His grip on your waist tightened, his body going still. His expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"What kind of question is that, kitten?" His voice remained steady, but there was something underneath it now—something more careful.

"It doesn’t matter if it’s the past or the present I’m thinking about—it’s always you on my mind."

But it didn’t feel like it.

Not in the way that mattered.

You swallowed, the months of quiet insecurities bubbling up, spilling over before you could stop them. "I don’t want you to think about her," you admitted, voice quieter now but no less firm. "It’s in the past—the past I don’t even remember."

A beat of silence.

For the first time that night, Sylus looked genuinely caught off guard. His expression wavered for the briefest moment before something else took its place—something softer.

"…I apologize." His voice, always so effortlessly poised, now carried an unfamiliar weight. "I never meant to make you feel that way, sweetheart. I won’t mention it again."

And yet—right now, it wasn’t enough.

"I need a moment for myself." The words left you before you could think them through.

You turned, ready to step away, but his fingers curled around your wrist—not tight, not forceful, just there.

"I won’t stop you," he murmured. "Take all the time you need." His hand lifted, brushing against your cheek, his touch warm, careful. You refused to meet his gaze, afraid of the emotions that might spill over if you did.

"But know that —when you’re ready, I’ll be right here."

A pause. Then, softer—so tender it nearly broke you—

"I love you."

And then, he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head before letting you go.

And just like that, you slipped away from him.

Out of the room, out of his reach, out into the night, letting the wind carry you as you tried to untangle the storm of emotions inside you.

You weren’t sure how long it would take. An hour, a day, a month.

But Sylus—he would wait.

He always did.

Caleb

A/N:For Caleb, I decided to twist it a little and instead make it about your future self. Hope that's alright!

It was always easy to be carefree with Caleb nearby.

He made the world feel manageable—as if no matter what went wrong, he would be there, steady as ever, grounding you with nothing more than a glance. You hated how much you depended on him, how much you needed him, but he made it feel so natural, so right.

And even now, as you perched on the kitchen counter, watching the way his muscled back flexed with each movement, the rhythmic sound of his knife against the cutting board filling the space between you, you thought—maybe this is it. Maybe this is all I need.

Your gaze lingered. It was the only sight you ever wanted to see.

Caleb, as if sensing your attention, let out a low chuckle. "I can feel you staring, pipsqueak." He turned his head slightly, a boyish grin tugging at his lips. "Should I be flattered or concerned?"

Your heart stuttered. No matter how much he changed over the years, that grin—that teasing, infuriating grin—never did.

"You're a terrible chef," you huffed, crossing your arms. "I’ve been waiting for my dish for, what? An hour now?"

He snorted. "Fifteen minutes, actually."

"Felt longer."

"Impatient as ever." He shook his head, flipping something onto a plate with practiced ease.

You chuckled softly, but the warmth in your chest flickered, cooling as a shadow of uncertainty crept into your mind. You hated thinking about the future. The unpredictability of it, the way it loomed, stretching out like an abyss, no matter how tightly you tried to hold onto the present.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Caleb moving until his presence was right there. His hand shot out, pinching your cheek.

"Finally got your attention, pips." His voice was teasing, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

You groaned, swatting his hand away as he set your plate aside. His violet eyes—always so sharp, so unnervingly aware—locked onto yours.

"What's going on in that little head of yours, hmm?" He leaned in slightly, voice still playful, but now edged with something serious.

You hesitated.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid to ask. But the words clawed at your throat, relentless.

"I was just thinking..." you mumbled, staring down at your dangling feet.

"Rare sight." He smirked.

You shot him a glare and shoved at his chest, earning a low chuckle.

"Shut up." You exhaled, fingers tightening around the hem of your shirt. Then, before you could lose your nerve— "Caleb, do you see me in your future?"

The teasing glint in his eyes faded instantly.

For the first time in the conversation, his smirk disappeared, replaced by something unreadable. He stared at you, brow furrowing slightly, as if trying to figure out why the hell you’d ask something so ridiculous.

Then—without hesitation— "You’re the only thing I’m certain about in my future."

Your breath hitched.

"It’s you, by my side, exploiting me as your personal slave." His lips quirked up, but you knew him too well. The humor was a shield, a flimsy attempt to soften the truth beneath it.

And the truth was—Caleb didn’t make promises easily. He was a liar, through and through. You knew that. Hell, he was probably the biggest liar you’d ever met.

But right now?

There was no lie in his voice. No hesitation in his certainty.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the future didn’t feel so terrifying.

But doubt was a cruel thing. It never let go easily.

"But what if I’m not the same?" you murmured, fingers idly toying with the fabric of your shirt.

Caleb scoffed, ruffling your hair with a tenderness that contradicted the smug grin on his face.

"Then I’ll adapt to whatever version of you I get." His voice was soft, but his grip—his presence—was solid.

Your throat tightened as warmth bloomed in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, breathing him in.

"Even if I become the worst version of myself?" you teased, tilting your head slightly.

Caleb hummed, amused. "If that’s the case, I’ll just make sure I become the best version of myself." He leaned in, voice dropping to something lower, something that sent a shiver down your spine. "And if your worst self turns out to be particularly sadistic, well..." His lips barely brushed against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I’ll make sure to satisfy your cravings, baby"

Heat coiled in your stomach. You barely had a second to react before he pulled back, pressing a finger to your lips just as you tried to close the distance.

"Ah-ah. Eat first, pips."

You groaned. "You’re impossible."

He chuckled, eyes glinting with something dark, something possessive. Something that promised—no matter what version of yourself you became, he would always be there.

With Caleb, there was only one certainty in life—

You would always have someone who loved you unconditionally.

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika is the pe teacher and reader is the English teacher and reader is sweet to all the students and everyone loves her but sevika is more on the strict side, doesn’t actually matter what’s the plot i just need teacher!sevika x teacher!reader😭🙏

HELL YES

men and minors dni

"jinx, the bell rang five minutes ago, kiddo. what class are you supposed to be in?" you ask as you walk into your classroom, blowing on your fresh cup of coffee.

this is your planning period, and you never mind having a student or two visit you, but you know jinx better than to assume she's here on her study-hall and not skipping class.

"please don't make me go, teach."

"dr. singed's chemistry class?" you guess. he's notorious for his harsh grading rubric.

jinx shakes her head. "no, no, i've got an a in chem." she huffs. "it's gym class."

you laugh. "you don't like gym? i've seen you run down the halls, you're quick as hell. figured you'd love that stuff."

"fuck no. sevika's a monster! she's making us climb ropes and do pushups-- i can barely carry my backpack to school, what makes her think i can do a fuckin' pullup!?" jinx laments.

you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. you gesture to the little corner of bean bags, blankets, and books in your class, then pull open your desk drawer. "you can stay. but if principal merdarda or sevika comes in here i'm tellin' her you told me it's your study hall."

"you'd rat me out?!" jinx cries. you grab one of the many bags of chips you store in your bottom drawer and toss it to her where she's getting cozy in the beanbag. she grins. "flamers, fuck yeah!"

"in exchange for my hospitality... you need to tell me why i saw your sister fighting with a cop at the gay bar last weekend." you request.

jinx gasps, her eyes lighting up in delight at a chance to gossip about vi-- a girl you taught a few years ago.

"you party at the hound?!" jinx asks with a giggle. you shrug.

"is that so shocking?"

"you're badass underneath that cardigan, huh, teach?" jinx teases. she stands from the corner and drags her beanbag across the classroom, situating herself in front of your desk and digging into her flamers. "okay, so, a year ago vi got arrested at a protest, right?" jinx starts.

you nod along in amusement at jinx's story, dividing your attention between her and the essays you're grading.

zaun high is small enough that you get to really know the kids that roam the halls for four years, and jinx comes from a big family with a gaggle of kids you've only ever adored. it's good to hear that her brothers are doing well, that vi's figuring herself out.

you blink up at jinx when she takes a pause between stories, snacking on her food. "so i hear you've made things official with ekko."

jinx turns bright red and she squeaks as she hides behind her braids. "shut up!"

"had to lock him down before he gets elected class president, huh?" you tease. jinx squawks.

"okay, well, what about a rumor i heard that you're dating another teacher here!" jinx accuses, pointing at you.

you giggle and shrug. "mmm... maybe... but you'll never guess which." you say.

jinx scoffs and rolls her eyes. "oh please, it's so obvious. you and profe ran are always giggling together." she says.

you laugh. ran, the spanish teacher, is a childhood friend of yours, but they're certainly not the person you're dating. "sure, it's ran."

jinx frowns and squints at you. "the new college councilor?" she guesses.

"ms. grayson?" you ask. jinx nods. you laugh again. "that's hilarious. isn't she married?"

jinx huffs. "well, i dunno! are you even dating anyone?"

the door slams open and you both jump, turning to look at sevika.

fuck. she looks good. you're pretty sure she's been wearing her shortest possible shorts just to tease you. she's been using the increasingly warm weather as her excuse.

"jinx! the fuck are you doing?" she glares at the teenager.

jinx jumps out of her beanbag and scrambles to collect her belongings. you giggle.

"put the beanbag back before you go."

"fuck." jinx mumbles, scrambling some more.

sevika turns her glare from her missing student to you, striding up to your desk. you bite your lip as you watch her thighs ripple with each step. "you're harboring fugitive students now?"

"she told me it was her study hall." you lie.

jinx groans. "you rat!"

sevika huffs and glares down at you. you shrug and blink up at her innocently. with a quick glance at jinx where she's stuffing her face with the rest of her chips over the garbage can, you hold up a folder to block your mouth and whisper up at your girlfriend. "my place tonight?"

sevika's glare melts for just a moment, and she gives you a half nod and a wink before tunring on her heel and smacking the chips out of jinx's hand. "c'mon, before i give you detention." she huffs, dragging jinx out of your class by her backpack.

"see you in third period, jinx!" you call. jinx giggles and waves to you. sevika flips you off over her shoulder.

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

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taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

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[transcendragonreblogs]

There’s so many things you’re saying here that just have. Nothing to do with what I said. I’m not even sure how to respond when what you’re saying has nothing to do with me and everything to do with some version of someone who might say something similar to what I said.

1) the revolution wasn’t caused by greed and I never said it was? It was co-opted and corrupted by people who were after personal power or gain.

2) Every single animal on the farm was intended to represent the working class in some way, as I said. That strongly implies that the pigs are also proletariat and it’s really weird that you’d randomly assume otherwise.

3) The fact that specific bad faith individuals act a certain way doesn’t imply all are stupid and incapable. The animals on animal farm all act in different ways, they all have different intelligences and personalities. It implies that the working class isn’t a hive mind that thinks one single way. The only person here saying anything like that is, well, you.

3) The “revolution” from the middle class intellectuals in 1984 fails utterly. The real signs of underlying resistance - such as uncensored versions of songs - come from the “proles”. You’re not actually supposed to take the biased and flawed and ultimately failed main character’s perception of them at face value. You can debate this point with different lenses and reading of the text, but it’s not nearly as cut dry as you’re acting like it is.

I don’t care what you think of George Orwell, but your basic reading comprehension is terrible. You’re reading in things I never said in responding to me. You’re asserting things about the text that just aren’t true (like that only the sheep represent the proletariat).

I know I’ll never get through to you, you’ve clearly already who I am through the way you put words in my mouth, but I hope anyone reading this feels permission to be more thoughtful in their different interpretations of the text. The fact that someone is confident and scathing on tumblr doesn’t actually make them right.

very funny to me when people act like animal farm and 1984 are revolutionary anti government texts that the Powers That Be dont want you to read when they have literally been a part of every standard middle/highschool english lit cirriculum in the usa and beyond for decades. precisely because theyre such convenient primers to propagandize that Commies = Bad. the government is quite literally making kids read them

[whitecompri]

Roller Trouble

Request: "Okay so this one is a little basic butttt can I ask for triple s and reader (could be separate or together!!) going roller skating?? But like reader slips forward and falls down on top of them? And they're all flustered"

Sonic, Silver and Shadow (Bonus: Scourge)

Pairing: Sonic x Reader; Shadow x Reader; Silver x Reader; Scourge x Reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Mild Suggestive Themes

Author Notes: I was really enjoying adding Scourge to my stories, I hope you don't mind me putting him as a bonus here, plus, I had a cool idea for him and couldn't leave him out. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the request!

Sonic

He walked calmly beside you, occasionally holding your arms as you balanced on your skates. It had been a little while since you started learning to skate, and with the help of the blue hedgehog and his support, you could already go long distances on your own without his constant guidance.

At that moment, he was following a bit behind as you glided smoothly on your skates, having a great time. However, the speedy rodent had an idea that seemed brilliant.

Running up beside you, keeping pace, he flashed a small grin. "Hey, [Y/N], wanna race?" You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I don’t know, Sonic, I’m still learning. I don’t think I can go any faster than this." "Relax, you’re already doing great, and I promise I’ll go easy on you." He gave a wide smile, positioning himself to run. "Ready? Go!"

He dashed off without even waiting for you. You could only chuckle softly—it was obvious you wouldn’t be able to keep up, but it still seemed fun. "You blue cheater." You started picking up the pace, quickly heading toward him.

Sonic stopped a little ahead, tapping his foot on the ground, his back turned to you, a smirk at the corner of his mouth as you quickly approached.

That’s when you realized you should have declined the challenge—but now it was too late. Your feet were too slippery, and your lack of practice and skill made it impossible to stop in time.

Before you knew it, you were flying straight toward the blue hedgehog. Upon impact, he let out a small grunt of pain, sending both of you crashing to the ground with a thud.

Slowly, you opened your eyes after the shock, finding yourself sprawled on top of him. His expression was surprised, his eyes wide, and it was noticeable that, beneath his fur, his cheeks were slightly flushed. But quickly after that, he flashed a more amused grin, sitting up and helping you do the same.

"Wow, I didn’t know you liked me that much." He chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck, looking away for a second, making you smile a little. "Sorry, I lost control." "It’s all good. I shouldn’t have challenged you like that. Are you okay?" He scanned you for any injuries. "Yeah, my fall was cushioned..." You laughed. "Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that one. Come on, let’s practice a bit more." Helping you to your feet, he assisted you in regaining your balance. "No races this time... for now." He flashed a mischievous grin. "And try not to run me over next time."

You playfully punched his shoulder, continuing to be guided by the blue hedgehog.

Shadow

You had spent a long time begging Shadow to teach you how to skate. After all, it was incredible watching him use his Air Shoes, and you definitely wanted to replicate that.

So, after a lot of persistence, the black hedgehog finally took you out to practice skating for the first few times.

Now, it hadn’t been that long since you started, but his guidance and patience were helping you improve significantly every day. He still held your hand constantly, making sure you moved at a speed where he could intervene if you lost your balance.

Whenever you seemed like you were about to stumble, you could be sure his hands would instinctively grab your arms to steady you. However, you didn’t want to just move at slow speeds forever—you wanted to push yourself, to start skating faster.

"Shadow... Can I try going around on my own?" "No." His response was blunt. "What? But why? I can already keep my balance. I can go one lap without falling." "You need more practice. A few times aren’t enough to say you know how to skate." He remained impassive, simply guiding you while holding your hand delicately. "Pretty please?" You pouted at him, making an adorable face in an attempt to convince the tough hedgehog.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and stopped. Then, suddenly, he let go of your hand. "Fine. But if you fall, it’s your fault... Just one lap, and be careful." He crossed his arms and stood still, waiting for you to go.

With a victorious smile and sparkling eyes, you slowly started skating around the rink, gliding smoothly. Then, as you tried to turn back toward him, your body tilted to one side, making you lose balance and stumble—heading straight toward Shadow.

You were about to crash into him, instinctively curling into yourself, bracing for impact. But at the last second, before you nock him to the ground, strong arms caught you, preventing your body from hitting the floor. Instead, you landed on something soft, followed by the muffled sound of a grunt.

Trembling slightly, you opened your eyes to find Shadow beneath you, his eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. He blinked once, then twice, before you quickly sat up in front of him, checking if he was hurt.

"Shadow, damn, I’m sorry! You saved me from a nasty fall." You said, holding one of his hands. With the other, he scratched the back of his neck before smoothing down his quills to keep them from getting messy.

Then, he looked into your eyes. You were surprised to find shock in his expression, along with a faint blush spreading across his entire face. He stayed frozen for a few seconds, as if putting the pieces together. Quickly, his gaze dropped to your hand in his, and he cleared his throat, looking away.

"Tsk... I told you that you needed more practice..." Even though he refused to look at you, the deep blush beneath his fur was painfully obvious.

"Sorry, I should’ve listened to you. I won’t try skating alone again without your help."

Shadow stood up, helping you to do the same. "It’s fine... I shouldn’t have let you go off on your own in the first place." Despite his firm words, you noticed his crimson eyes scanning you for any injuries. Finding none, he let out a relieved sigh, the redness on his face fading slightly.

"Can we keep practicing?" You asked hopefully. Shadow thought for a second. "I suppose we can stay a little longer... But I’m keeping an eye on you. I don’t want to see you falling again."

Shadow would never admit this to anyone, but just the thought of you getting hurt was enough to make his whole body tense—and turn him 200% more protective of you.

Silver

When you mentioned your interest in roller skating, Silver's expression lit up completely as his mind filled with ideas of all the quality time you could spend together while he taught you.

Silver wasn’t that skilled, but he was more experienced than you, so for now, he calmly skated alongside you, carefully holding your elbow and making sure not to make you fall.

"Very nice! You’re learning really fast. At this rate, you’ll be doing tricks in no time." He chuckled.

"Well, it’s all thanks to the best skating teacher I’ve ever had." You shot him a warm smile.

And so, the two of you kept gliding smoothly along the ground, going around the skating rink together.

"How about a break now? Let’s go back and sit for a bit, then we can continue later." He suggested, lightly tugging your arm so you could return to the bench in the park and rest for a while.

However, as you both moved, Silver accidentally pulled you a little too fast, making you lose balance and control, which in turn made you pull him back unintentionally, causing him to lose his footing on his skates as well.

"Oh man…" He muttered.

In the end, everything happened so quickly. You ended up bumping into him just as he was trying to steady you, and both of you came crashing to the ground with a loud thud. When you opened your eyes from the shock, you noticed something incredibly soft beneath you. That’s when you realized that your cheek was resting against something warm and fluffy, and as soon as it hit you that it was Silver’s chest fur, you quickly pulled away, lifting your face and looking down, only to find a completely frozen Silver.

His eyes were wide open, his mouth slightly ajar, and he was panting softly from the surprise. Beneath his fur, a deep red blush was unmistakably visible.

"T-this isn’t… I mean— I didn’t mean to… uh…" He stammered, his words tumbling out before completely failing him. "Sorry… I-I couldn’t catch you. I should’ve used my powers…" He averted his gaze, covering his muzzle with his hand, trying to hide the bright flush on his face, a single drop of sweat rolling down his forehead fur.

"Silver… it wasn’t your fault…" You gently cupped his cheek with your palm, making him look at you. "I didn’t get hurt because of you. Thank you."

It was clear that your words only made him even redder.

"Y-you’re welcome… I think."

"Come on, let’s go sit on the bench and take a breather." You knelt on the ground, holding his hand to help him stand up and regain his balance. Then, he also helped you, guiding you back to the safety of the bench with even more care than before.

Scourge (BONUS)

He wasn’t particularly into skating or anything similar, but still, he liked to tag along just to tease you and laugh whenever you took a fall—after all, you were still learning how to skate.

At that moment, you were slowly circling around the park, practicing your balance, while Scourge sat cross-legged on the grass, simply watching from a distance. And surprisingly, he was silent.

That is, until he sighed, stood up, and walked toward you, matching your slow pace.

"Ey, princess, how ‘bout we spice things up a lil’ and you pull off some real tricks on that ramp?"

You could only narrow your eyes at him.

"You just want to see me fall so you can laugh. I’m not bringing you next time I come to practice." You turned your gaze away from him, focusing on the path ahead.

"Wow, real cold. Don’t tell me ya actually scared of a lil’ ol’ trick like that? Thought ya had guts." He smirked, his usual cocky grin plastered on his face.

You tried to ignore him, focusing solely on your path ahead. Falling for his games was definitely not in your best interest. However…

"Aight, fine—this is borin’. Never skated a day in my life, but I already know I’d be ten times slicker and way more fearless than you, no contest."

It was an obvious taunt, given the way he stared at you, and there was no way you were letting that slide. Huffing loudly, you pushed yourself forward, skating faster toward the ramp.

Gaining speed, going up was easy, but the real problem came after. Your lack of skill in tricks made it impossible to land properly, and before you knew it, you were speeding straight toward Scourge, completely out of control.

The last thing you saw before impact was his rare expression of shock—right before crashing straight into him, making him grunt in pain.

And just like that, you found yourself lying on top of him.

The most surprising thing, though… As you looked at his face, while he scratched the back of his neck with his eyes closed, was the small blush dusting his cheeks beneath his fur. You stared at him, mesmerized by that tiny sign of embarrassment, watching as he remained like that for a few seconds. It was even noticeable when he swallowed dryly.

But then, just as quickly as it had appeared, he masked it away, his face shifting back into a playful grin.

"Damn, that was one helluva strike, huh, babe?" He chuckled lowly. "Tch, ya coulda at least asked me out before damn near flattenin’ me like that."

You raised an eyebrow at him. His flustered look was too good to last, after all. So, without bothering to humor him, you simply tried to push yourself up and get back to training.

However, the moment you tried to move away, two strong hands gripped your waist, holding you firmly in place against him.

"Feelin’ nice and cozy up there? ‘Cause I gotta say—I’m sittin’ real pretty right now."

In the end, the tables turned, and now you were the one blushing like a tomato, gritting your teeth and averting your gaze while he laughed in amusement.

[harrysespresso]

next adventure | ls2 smau

♡ summary: logan dropped out of ELMs and has been radio silent for weeks and fans are dying to know the reason behind the news.

♡ pairing: logan sargeant x reader

♡ warnings: use of yn, some swearing, hate comment, established relationship, pregnancy

♡ faceclaim: various blondes from pinterest

♡ a/n: i got this idea while listening to Paris by Taylor Swift and honestly still mourning Logan in ELMs. this is my first SMAU and it’ll be shortish so enjoy :)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

𝜗𝜚

february 18, 2025

elms_official

Liked by idecsportracing and 33,850 others

elms_official idecsportracing has announced that logansargeant has decided to withdraw and will not be apart of the No. 18 Oreca 07 lineup for the 2025 ELMs season.

We fully respect the decision of the American driver and wish him the best of luck in his next adventure. See you soon, Logan.

View all comments

user225 CAPTAIN AMERICA??? WHATS GOING ON???

hater381 dropped before the season even started 😂

user13 he chose to withdraw in what world is that the same as being dropped??

idecsportracing 🤍🤍🤍

user785 WHAT IS GOING ON??

user109 NOO LOGAN WHYYY

user772 in logan we trust (i’m having a meltdown)

—— twitter

replies—

user551 no seriously this was our chance to show how williams screwed him over 😭

user87 exactly 🤧🤧

user129 manifesting he gets an indycar seat (i’m in literal tears)

~~~

user223 we should all go to group therapy together

user778 we can send logan our bill 😭

user123 nah send it williams it’s their fault we’re like this 🤧

user1644 it’s hard out here for us

~~~

user77 no cause you’re asking the important question!!!

user773 LIKE i get i don’t know him but he wouldn’t withdraw without a reason 😭

user908 ITS SO ODD??

user651 like there’s gotta be reason maybe he has a seat lined up somewhere else??? (i’m delulu)

—— messages between logan & alex

—— YN’s close friends story

february 20, 2025

yourusername

(caption 1: unemployed boy out here building legos. men used to hunt 😒) (caption 2: 🧸🍼)(caption 3: florida man.)

replies—

lilymhe now they go around in deformed circles

➥ yourusername how embarrassing for them 🙂‍↔️

➥ lilymhe honestly 😔

logansargeant HEY YOU PUT THE CAR ON THE FIREPLACE

➥ yourusername because i love and support you on all your endeavors ☺️

➥ logansargeant you hate the legos.

➥ yourusername i love you :)

~~~

lilyzneimer LOOK AT YOU CUTIE

➥ yourusername ILYSM 🥹

lilymhe BABY SARGEANT

➥ yourusername 🤭

logansargeant beautiful 😍

➥ yourusername i love youuuuu

➥ logansargeant i love you 🤍

~~~

alex_albon why yes a man in his natural habitat

➥ yourusername he looked way too floridian doing this shit 😭

➥ alex_albon WTF is a kilometer 🦅

oscarpiastri get that man back in a car 😭

➥ yourusername i swear the longer he isn’t in a car he turns more into a retiree in Boca 💀

➥ oscarpiastri acting like a 65 year old at 24

—— twitter

replies—

user541 no cause YN is normally super active so it’s so weird she hasn’t posted at all in weeks??

user176 seriously! like not even an instagram post! i’m seriously worried about them!

user867 i’m starting to think he had a personal reason for withdrawing?

user176 elaborate

user867 user176 well like it’s not normal to withdraw so close to season and any professional wouldn’t do it unless there was a serious reason so makes me wonder if there’s a personal reason?

user029 user867 damn.

user894 no cause i’m honestly worried about them?? what if somethings wrong??

user700 no cause you guys have me freaked out 😭

~~~

replies—

oscarpiasstri cause you both disappeared off the face of the earth in their minds 😂

ynpriv oops 😭

wtfisakilometer we’re literally just watching hereditary and they’re acting like we’re dead 😭

ynpriv odd behavior from them

albono it’s funny to watch from afar 😂

ynpriv honestly 💀

lilyzzneimer it’s so funny 😭😭

ynpriv 😭😭😭

alexcantfight they’re spiraling like you need to give them a sign of life 😭

ynpriv A SIGN OF LIFE 😭

albono alexcantfight wait when did you change your username

alexcantfight albono …

—— instagram

february 25, 2025

yourusername

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 76,812 others

yourusername long awaited proof of life :) oh and baby sargeant coming soon 🩷

tagged: logansargeant

View all comments

user884 HOLY SHIT-

lilymhe congrats again my love!! you’re glowing ❤️

thank you beautiful 🥹🤍

user922 STOPPP OMG

user127 BABY SARGEANT 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux Congrats beautiful!

yourusername thank you gorgeous 🩷

flavy.barla félicitations

yourusername thank youuu!

user980 THE WAGS IN THE COMMENTS 😭😫

francisca.cgomes SO HAPPY FOR YOU ❤️

yourusername thank you beautiful!

user172 THIS WASNT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING-

logansargeant i can’t wait for our new adventure 🩷

yourusername me neither 🩷 i love you so much

~~~

logansargeant

Liked by oscarpiastri and 192,802 others

logansargeant our next adventure 🩷 baby sargeant coming soon.

tagged: yourusername

View all comments

oscarpiastri Congrats again mate! can’t wait to meet my goddaughter!

alex_albon that’s funny! i think you mean my goddaughter??

logansargeant boys boys let’s keep it civil

user219 IM CRYING STOP 😭🥹

user912 OMG CONGRATS 😭

user887 WAIT so he withdrew from ELMs for the baby 😭

logansargeant it was a decision made for my family! the priority to be present and surrounded by family during this time! but don’t worry i’m not done racing yet!

user883 i think something in me has been healed??

alex_albon Congrats to you and YN! love you both!

logansargeant thanks man!

f1 congratulations Logan and YN!

user987 hahaha that’s great now give him a seat.

user012 STOP THIS IS LIKE SO CUTE-

kevinmagnussen Congrats Man!

logansargeant thanks!!

indycar Congratulations to you both!

user723 fancy seeing you here 🤨 now give him a seat he’s got mouths to feed

user126 PROJECT SARGEANT!! 🦅🏎️

user809 THE F1 DRIVERS IN THE COMMENTS 🤧

idecsportracing Congratulations Logan and YN! We’re wishing you both so much health and happiness in this new chapter!

logansargeant 🤍🤍🤍

lance_stroll CONGRATS!

logansargeant thanks man!

jensonbutton Congratulations again! expecting many more calls for advice 😂

logansargeant oh for sure! 😂

yourusername i’m so excited for this new adventure with you 🩷 love doing life with you

logansargeant the only person i wanna do life with 🩷

[lvlystars]

16:35 — g.sg

TIE A BOW ON IT.

BITE IT.

ASK HIM TO USE IT AS YOUR NECKLACE.

ASK HIM TO PUT YOU IN A HEADLOCK.

“babe?” you're snapped out of your thoughts when suguru taps your thigh, his expression reading borderline concerned, but confused. his lips jut out in a slight pout as his eyebrows raise in confusion. “you were spacing out. something on your mind?”

you shook your head, brushing him off as the traffic light turns green, the engine revving as suguru presses his foot on the gas pedal. as you stare off into space in front of you, your eyes betray you and trail back to your boyfriend’s biceps, the way they flex and bulge sending your brain into overdrive.

the fact that he was wearing a black compression top wasn’t helping either—yes, it was summer, it’s hot, but showing the pecs off like that? who can blame you for just being attracted to your boyfriend?

at the next red light, suguru brakes and leans over, stretching a bit as he leans his head on your car seat, pouting as he looks up at you. when you meet his eyes, he blinks, smiling softly.

you lean down to peck his lips, catching him off guard and eliciting a small sound of surprise from him.

“affection? from you? what a strange phenomenon.” he tilts his head teasingly, making you scoff as you look out the window, trying to further distract yourself. suguru eyes your shaking leg, patting it softly. “you good?”

you hum, nodding absentmindedly as you try your best not to look him in the eye.

“are you sure? you’re not looking me in the eye, did i do somethi–”

“can i tie a ribbon on it?” you blurted, leaving your boyfriend speechless.

“...excuse me?” “i wanna tie a ribbon on your bicep.”

his eyes go wide from realization, laughing out loud. “of course you can tie a ribbon on it, baby. you don’t have to ask!” he chuckles. “tell you what, i’ll drop by the crafts shop you always go to for your yarn and i’ll pay for those huge ribbon things around those wheel looking things. you can tie me up all you want to your hearts content.” he smiles devilishly, making you giddy and excited. “REALLY?!”

“who knows? maybe i’ll let you tie it on my di–”

“GET ME TO THAT SHOP RIGHT NOW.”

oh, this was going to be the best evening.

wc. 407

tagging 🏷️ —

@starshuas @etherealyoungk @shieunviya @seuonji @desirehorizon @kyeomyun

a/n: I'M POSTING AGAIN?????? and my first jjk fic on here hehehehehehe. idk if i'll post often BUT WHEN I DO WRITE i promise i'll post <3

ⓒ lvlystars

[defat1]

You look to the Elytron Elemental, then back to the young adventurer. You're an ancient dragon, a creature of the Dungeon, a being beyond pity or remorse or death. The Dungeon wants tribute, paid in blood and mana, and you can feel even its dark influence shuddering in incredulity at the sight.

All throughout the depths of the Dungeon's deepest floor, those creatues capable of thought are asking themselves two questions: How did this human get this far, and what do we do with him now?

The Dungeon advises you directly, a dizzying act that makes you snort in irritation. The adventurer did not arrive by the previous floors. He has no mana to speak of. His gear is worth more than his life-force is, and even that is common trash the Dungeon would hide on its highest floors to lure humans into the profession of looting dungeons.

And yet, the Elytron Elemental has yet to land a blow on the adventurer. It questions you again, asking for guidance, and you tell it to try its second phase area attack. A waste of good mana, but the human is wasting mana every second the fight drags on.

It obeys without question, gathering the elements together on its back before detonating each orb in five successive waves. A devastating attack that had felled many an adventurer over the centuries-

The boy does the unthinkable, and shelters directly beneath the miniboss. Worse, the way he slides underneath it causes his cheap sword to kick up and wedge itself into an armor plate, and as the orbs detonate, each drives the dull steel deeper into the heart of the beetle, drenching the fumbling boy in hemolymph.

You and the Dungeon watch in disbelief as the Elytron Elemental is dealt a telling blow, and almost miss what happens next.

The goop-covered human narrowly avoids being crushed, but his cape catches on the sword and rips it sideways and out of the wound, worsening the injury and causing the great beetle's dominant limb to fall limp. The Elytron doggedly clambers to its feet, ignoring the wound and pursuing the prey. The boy attempts to run, but trips over his own cape just as the gigantic adamantine insect tries to retaliate with a wind-elemental dash.

There is a rumble in the stone of the Dungeon as the miniboss rams itself into a pillar, followed by another as the impact breaks a stalactite from the ceiling of the chamber to spear the Elytron Elemental through. The beetle dies in ignominy as the entire Final Floor listens in silence, the frustration of the Dungeon becoming palpable in the air. Reluctantly, it spawns the loot chest as normal, but you can feel its displeasure like the distant rumblings of a wild thunderstorm in your mind.

You snort in dismissal. The boy may have gotten lucky, but even with the high-end loot he's just gained, you are far too powerful to be vanquished by some mana-less whelp with a sharp stick. You are a dragon, no mere summoned creature, and the Dungeon would do well to remember that.

An hour later...

Chuck cautiously nudges the dragon's head with his shattered sword, making sure it was really dead.

"Geez, one hell of a tutorial, huh? Guess it beats being roadkill, at least." He steps back from the corpse, still radiating heat from the explosive fireball it had accidentally swallowed.

"And that goddess thought I was being a moron, putting all my stats in luck. That Demon King's never gonna know what hit them."

You are the end boss of a dungeon. You watch as your midboss fights a scrawny warrior with a 5 copper sword and a cape that says "adventurer in training." As the warrior attacks your minion with sad, pathetic strikes, it looks to you in a desperate plea for guidance.

[joeybsversion]

Stress

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and reader plan their wedding together

“I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.” You huff as Joe walks into the room, a protein shake in his hand.

“What’s wrong baby?” He takes a seat at the table next to you, turning your laptop screen towards him.

You place your head in your hands and take a deep breath, “Wedding stuff.”

He turns the screen back towards you, “Let’s take a break.”

“Joe.” You sigh. “We can’t. There’s only 5 Sundays between now and the wedding… and you have games on 4 of them.”

“But that means we should still have one Sunday, right?”

“Wishful thinking,” you tease. “You play Monday night in Arrowhead which means you’ll be out of town.”

“Damn it.” He shakes his head, trying to come up with another solution. “What are you the most stressed about right now?” He questions, taking a sip of his shake.

“All of it. I mean we need to figure out music. And what if people don’t like the venue? What if the bar runs out of drinks? How long do we want the ceremony to be? How many appetizers should we serve during cocktail hour? And are we having an after party? What if we have too many people and not enough space on the dance floor? Is grandma gonna like the dessert? And -“

Joe cuts you off “woah, woah, woah. You can’t be worried about all the ‘what-if’s’ and pleasing everyone.”

“But I am.” You feel tears build pressure behind your eyes.

“This day is about us. Not pleasing everyone else.”

“Joe. This isn’t just an ordinary wedding, we’re entertaining hundreds of -“

“I know. I understand what you’re saying. But if we sit here and think about what can go wrong, we won’t have time to plan the things that will go right.” He pulls the computer over in front of himself. “What is the thing you’re the most stressed about?”

“Joey.” You laugh. “I’m stressed about stress before there’s even stress to stress about.”

The tall handsome quarterback erupts into laughter and shakes his head. “Let’s start from the beginning. Didn’t you say something about music?”

“Yeah. We need to make a ‘don’t play’ and ‘please play’ list for the DJ.”

“That’s a good starting point!” He reassures you. “What’s on our ‘please play’ side?”

“What gets everyone up and moving?”

“I’m not overly picky.” He shrugs, “we listen to some oldies at practice and warmups.” He adds a few of the teams favorite songs to the spreadsheet in front of him. “You pick the rest.”

“Joey.” You giggle, “You only added 2 songs.”

“I want you to pick.”

“You always make me pick the music.” You wine.

“I do.”

“Why?”

He smiles. “You get so excited when you pick it and a song you love comes on. Your body starts swaying and you get a huge smile.”

You giggle to yourself. He’s not wrong. “What if people don’t like my music?”

“Baby. You have to stop worrying about pleasing everyone.”

“I know but -“

He takes your hand. “I know this is stressful, and you want it to be perfect for everyone, but let’s have fun with it. Think about it, we get to spend a whole day together, with all of our friends and family, and it ends with a fun trip to Hawaii. 7 beautiful days under the sun. The wedding will be perfect, but I know we’ll love the honeymoon more. Just us. No crowds. No one to greet or please.”

“You’re right.” You smile at him.

He closes the laptop.

“Joe, we-“

“Shhhh.” He puts a finger to your lips. “I actually just thought of one thing we can work on.”

“What’s that?” You sigh, peeling yourself away from the laptop.

“The kiss.” He smirks. “We should practice.”

“We should.” You agree, pretending as if you guys hadn’t shared thousands of kisses before.

“Kissing?” He questions.

“Kissing.” You confirm.

“I’m a whole 8 inches taller than you. There’s a lot that could go wrong.” He teases.

“You stand here,” you position him, “and I’ll be right across from you over here.” You stand in your spot.

He takes both of your hands in his. “They’ll say something like, ‘I now pronounce you Mr. And Mrs. Burrow. You may now kiss the bride!” He announces, chin high and proud before leaning down to envelope you in a passionate kiss.

You giggle, pulling away, a huge smile on both of your faces.

“How did that go? Can we mark it off our list, Mrs. Burrow?” He laughs.

“I’m not Mrs. Burrow yet.” You remind him. “There’s still time for me to live out my runaway bride dreams.” You smirk.

“Not funny.”

“What?” You giggle, slowing backing away. “I’ve always loved a good chase!” You take off, running laps around the kitchen island and through the house until Joe finally catches you, tackling you on the couch.

Eye to eye, nose to nose, the room was filled with tension and stress from wedding planning which quickly melted away as your lips met again for a breathless kiss.

“I can’t wait to marry you, Joey.”

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Not on the carpet! | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Notes: Different from the other ones. Reader knows what his husband does for work.

Summary: Your dear Husband comes home with blood and all you want is it to not touch the dam carpet!!

Warnings: Blood - Canon Violence - Suggestive -

The Salesman knows he is not looking his best right now. Not after having to kill some people who were getting too close to the truth of the games.

And he knows what his dear wife will say once he opens the door. Instead of a warm smile a look of panic will be there. Not for him.

"Dont let that blood fall on the carpet!" You tell him in a stern tone coming to greet him when you did hear the door open but stopped after seeing the blood on him.

"Hello my Love. I hope your day went better than mine" He says pulling off his suit jacket but not moving from the entrance.

Last time he did get blood on the carpet not only was he forced to clean it himself. He was banned to the guest room (no problem the bed its comfortable). But his lovely wife banned him of sex. For a week. And she did nothing but keep temting him all week. Wearing pajama shorts that barely covered her ass and let him see her legs. Light colored shirts that let him see her tits and nippels.

Oh, how he wanted to just throw you over the table and fuck you nice and rough. Make you forget your name and only know his. He wanted you to regret it.

But he had to demostrate he did have some self control. So on the last night exaclty when the clock did hit the final time he was on you like a dog in heat. Pulling you over his lap, touching all the exposed skin and leaving bruises behind.

And while that sex was amazing. He would prefer to not be on another week without sex.

"Here" You did appear again giving him a big plastic bowl so he could put his dirty clothes in. "I will wash it later. I can only imagine how much of a pain its going to be" Your face did show the small anger towards it.

"Sorry Love. But the blood of these worms seems to be as dirty as them" He responded removing his tie too.

"You are not injured, right?" You asked seeing some blood on his cheeck but he just dismisses your question with a move of his hand. "Good. Let me get you some cotton and water then"

"Im finally allowed inside my home?" He half joked as he saw you go then do a stop and look back at him. "It did not get on my shirt I promise"

He remembers that one time when it did get on his shirt. He had to sat for then minutes of you scolding him.

"...Then come. But you know what will happen if I see a single blood drop!"

The Saledman groaned following you into the big bathroom taking a seat on the toilet. "Not sex ban again my Love" He begged pulling you close so he could get his face against your stomach "Jerking off to pictures of you or videos of us its never enough. I need the real thing" To add his point he gives your ass a firm grip.

You try to ignore him as you get some water and cotton to clean off the blood from his face.

"Dont be a baby" Its your response as you slowly clean his handsome face. Glad to see that there are not injuries but just dry blood as he said. "And you did make up for it when the week ended" You added the memory still fresh on your mind.

"I came so fast" He says his eyes never leaving you. Him falling for you soft touch. "I was inside you and then I just filled you up so fast" he sounded so dissapointed with himself.

"You did. But it was a lot. I believe we should let your balls get as much cum as they can so you can fill me up really nice"

The Salesman let out a small sound between a laught and a groan. "Dont make me pull you against that wall...I still need to shower so you dont get the smell of these men"

You smiled at his possessive nature giving him a kiss on the head once you were done cleaning him.

"And I havent finish making your favorite food. So looks like we both will have to attend diferent things before I can greet you properly"

"You are my favorite food. You always taste so divine. I wish I could be between your legs all day. Making you cum over and over again. Getting all of hit on my face and chin. I will lick it up so good. You would be crying from how much stimulation you are getting. But I know you would not care about it. You would let me keep going, because you love me. And you love what I do to you"

You blushed hard under his gaze and his smirk. He was not wrong. And that scene did happen once. You were so wasted after it...you could barely walk let alone think straight. You were like a doll and he loved it. He loved being the cause of your pleasure.

"Yeah well. Maybe later" one look from him made you crumble. There was not a "maybe" it was a "defenetly" and part of you believed he would not wait till you ended dinner.

"Its a promise my Love" He said kissing your hand and wrist. He closed his eyes as he smelled your skin. Oh how he loved it. It was just...you and it was all he needed. "Go and try finishing that dinner for me. But...maybe I will skip it and go for the special plate of the house"

You let out a small smile your face burning. "Go on, get on that shower first" You said leaving him to be "I will bring you a new set of fresh clothes"

"Thanks Love" Your Husband responded removing his shirt in order to get inside the shower, his mind already thinking on the idea of having you for himself once he removes the smell of these worms from himself.

And, oh how much he is going to enjoy every second of it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes (silverfox)

Note: Friday at last and my house guest is away for a couple days.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky plants his feet as the bike comes to a stop. You look up at the duplex and your insides get all swirly. You're home and still giddy. You've made up your mind. It's now or never.

He shuts off the engine and waits for you to get off first. You hang onto his shoulder for balance as you hop down. He gets off without much effort and heaves a dark sigh. He hesitates and you do too.

"That was awesome, Bucky," you shimmy. 

"Mm," he drones and flinches, moving toward the saddle bag. He unbuckles it and takes out the cookies. "Don't forget these."

You take them reluctantly and he hauls out his bag of groceries. He wraps one arm around it and lets the flap fall open. He faces you as you clutch the box to your chest. Don't let him do it. He can't send you away now.

"Hey, you want... want to try some? I could make us some tea."

His eyes dart to the side then he looks down at the bag. He fidgets and shifts on his feet. He looks at you and his forehead lines. He deflates just a little as you watch him with rounded, hopeful eyes.

"Sure, I should get the yogurt in the fridge though so why don't you come in?" He relents.

You could fist pump and jump in glee. You don't. You're not that lame. You bounce and smile.

"Oh, yay," you grin, "so you got everything set up?"

"Hm, not much. Still got a few things to grab," he grits.

You walk up the steps beside him and stand aside, waiting for him to unlock the door. He keeps the screen door open with his elbow then pauses before he pushes open the inner one. He sniffs.

"Go on, girl," he waves inside.

Huh, what happened to doll?

You enter as if you've discovered some ancient crypt full of treasures meant for the after world. There's a couch and a coffee table, a floor lamp behind the former. The area rug is the only piece of decor to give it any warmth. You try not to be too obvious as you take account of the barren space.

"I might got some tea," he says as he gentle touches your back and slips by. You savour the tingle along your spine.

You take off your boots before you break the threshold of the front room. You tiptoe in as you hear him in the kitchen. He sighs as cupboards open and close.

"It doesn't have to be tea," you call to him. You near the table and examine the motorcycle magazine, a sheet of paper tucked under the cover.

"Good, all I got is beer," he says. 

"Mmm," you turn as he comes close with the bottles.

"Coasters," he says.

"Oh, uh, right," you set the box next to the magazine and take two of the cork coasters from the stack. You place them down and he swiftly clanks the bottles into place.

"I know it's not much but uh, get comfortable," he says.

You pluck up a bottle and sit on the couch. You taste the malty beer. It's not bad. He paces around and nears the window. You watch his back.

You lean forward to set down the bottle and tear the seal on the box. You flip the top and pick out two cookies. You get up and approach him. You stop beside him.

"Try one," you offer.

He exhales and accepts it with a thanks. You nibble and he crunches into his. It's a bit dry by sweet.

You're nervous. You've never been this close in your life. Now you have the prime opportunity. You're in his space. You finish the cookie and smack your lips.

"Dry," you chuckle, "need to wash it down."

"Me too," he says.

He follows you as you go to grab your beer. You drink and sit. He does the same, stiffly, as he takes his beer and swigs. Your eyes stick to him. You watch his throat and the way his chest stretches the fabric of his shirt. You set the beer back on the cork and sidle closer. You're fuzzy all over.

You put your hand on his knee. He flinches and lowers the bottle. He looks at your hand and reaches to set down the beer. His other hand covers yours and he peels it off.

"Look, doll," he squeezes and clears his throat, gently laying your hand in your own lap. "There's things you don't know about me. I think you better just finish and go."

"Bucky, I... it's okay. Whatever it is."

"I'm too old for ya," he puffs. "You're young. Don't do this."

His eyes bore into yours. You pout.

"I might be young but I can make my own choices. So why don't you tell me so I can?"

His cheek twitches, "girl--"

"Please. Don't I deserve to know?"

"I don't know what you're thinking, girl. Alright? Look at us. I'm... I gotta twice your age. And you're... you're too sweet for your own good."

"Tell me," you reach for him again, petting the denim on his thigh. "I won't go until you do. Or you can drag me out."

His eyes flicker and he looks at the window behind you. His jaw squares and he shakes his head. He slaps his hand over yours again but doesn't move it away.

"I'm a criminal. I just got out and I'm tryna rebuild, but I'm not changed. Alright? You understand me," he snarls. "I'm a bad man. I hurt people. Too late for me to change that."

You search his face, "but... you haven't hurt me. And you did your time."

"Girl, don't be foolish."

"No, Bucky, you told me and I don't care. I don't care what you are. I know that you feel this too," you move closer. "Don't you?"

He turns his head and stares at the wall. You squeeze his thigh and get up on your knees. You trail your touch up to his belt and he grunts, stopping you with his thick fingers around your wrist.

"Bucky, please," you beg. "It's just us. Nothing else."

"Girl--" he pleads.

"You're not too old, you're not too bad," you slip free of his grasp and tickle up his shirt, "you're perfect for me, baby."

You bring your hand to his jaw and flutter your fingers along his beard. He shudders and you raise yourself on your knees. You lean in and press your lips to his. He grabs your upper arm but doesn't push you away. He growls as you open your mouth and slide your tongue along his lips.

His hand slides away from your arm and to your back, crawling to the back of your neck. You brace his shoulder and swing your leg across him, straddling his lap as you deepen the kiss. He groans as you hook an arm around his neck and snare him. You rock him slightly as you breathe into him, tilting your pelvis against him. 

He grips your hip with his other hand and parts from your mouth. His eyes are cloudy as he gazes up at you. The tension is his cheek pulses.

"Doll," he shakes his head, "one last chance..."

"I got condoms," you say as you sit back and reach to your cross body bag, still resting against your side.

He shivers and slackens against the couch. "You're too much."

"I know what I want," you assure him.

He stares at you and his lashes flick, He grabs the strap of your cross body bag and unhooks it from around you. He puts it on the cushion and gulps. He frames your face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheekbones. He sighs. 

You reach up to curl your fingers under the straps of your tanks top and drag them down your arms. You feel him beneath you. He's hard already. You're soaking through your panties, not that there's much to them.

You push down the sheath of your top to your waist. He inhales sharply and you reach back, your chest bulging as you tug at the band of your bra. You unhook it and quickly drop it down to your wrists. Your tits pop free and jiggle as you toss your bra.

He blinks at your chest. He just sits there, paralysed. You giggle and grab his hands, putting them on your tits, making him squeeze them. He purrs and rolls his hips.

"Doll, you're... you're..." He gropes you then slips his hands down to lift your tits. He leans forward and nuzzles your flesh, pushing your chest around his face as he snarls. You got him. There's no going back.

You arch your back and cling to his head, urging him on. He nips and teethes at you, tracing your nipple with his thumb before popping it between his lips. He hums and swirls his tongue around the hard bud. It must have been a while for him, having been in jail. That sends another thrill through you.

You twine your fingers into his hair and grazes his scalp with your nails. He snarls as he continues to bounce your tits, squeezing and pawing. You never cared much for the extra weight, but now that he's drowning in them, you can't complain.

You lip your hand down between your bodies and feel along the front of his jeans. He groans and wriggles against your touch. He's rock-hard. He hisses as he pulls away and drops back against the couch heavily.

"Doll," he tenses up.

You giggle and tug at the bottom of his shirt. You push it up his stomach and over his broad chest. You mess his hair as you swoop it past his head and drop it over the back of the couch.

Now it's your turn. You flatten your hands across his pecs and moan. He growls and you drag your nails lightly down his skin, the soft hair contrasting against hard muscle. His stomach is cushier but not in a bad way.

"Baby, you got me struggling," he groans and rubs your thighs, his pelvis tilting desperately.

"Me too," you breathe.

You linger at the top of his jeans then back off of him carefully. His eyes widen. You see fear in him. You grin and turn to wiggle your ass as him. You hook your fingers inside your leggings and bend as you push them down. Your thong rides up between your cheeks. He hums as the couch springs whine beneath him.

You shiver as your nerves flurry in your chest. This is it. So close. You're throbbing. You can see the slickness in your leggings as you step out of them.

"How... why do you want me, doll? You're... you're gorgeous," he rasps.

You stand and face him again. You shake your chest at him and he brings his fist up to bite his knuckle. You feel powerful.

You slink closer to him and touch the front of your bejeweled thong, a little heart on black. "Can I keep these on?"

"Yes," he croaks and clears his throat, "yes, doll."

You grin and grab your bag. You unzip the front pocket and slide free the strip of condoms. It unfurls and you laugh. "Oops... think we'll need them all?"

He startles you as he swipes up the end and tears one off, "we'll see."

You drop the rest beside your bag and blink at him. You sense something different. He tears open his pants and raises himself off the cushion as he shoves the denim down. His dick bobs above the elastic of his briefs, the head swollen and weeping. You get even wetter as you see the veins bulging under the skin.

He rips the wrapper with his teeth. He trembles as he presses the rubber to his tip and you near him, wavering as you weigh the moment. This is your last day a virgin. You take a silent breath and lean forward to grab his shoulders. He quakes and moans as he slides the condom down his length.

You bring yourself over his lap, hovering above him as he grips himself. He frames your hip and hisses, "doll, please, please, I need you on me. I need--"

You reach down and wrap your fingers above his. He lets go and gasps. You angle his tip along your cunt and push your panties aside. You stare down at him. Your eyes cling to his and you bite your lip.

You dip down carefully. As you open around him, you grunt. You sink your nails into his trap and your eyes speckle with tears. Oh, it hurts more than you expect.

He taps your hip, "stop," he snarls.

You bat your lashes but obey, "I can take it--"

"Come on," he feels along your side. He loops his arm around you and in an instant, he has your back to the cushion. He slips out of you. 

He fishes out your bag from beneath you and sweeps it onto the floor. He knees on the other end of the couch and urges you further up. You drag yourself until your head is against the armrest. 

He bends between your knees and kneads your thighs, his eyes on your cunt. He licks his lips before he plunges in. You yipe in surprise as he laps at you, his beard tickling your lips as he pushes your legs wider.

He flicks his tongue around and across your clit. You spasm and clasp onto his hair as the sensations stir within like flames. Your thighs clench and your spine stiffen. You pout and gulp loudly as he toys with you, suckling and swiping as you squirm.

He growls into you and traces a finger along your ass up to your entrance. He spreads the wetness there before he delves inside. He pushes his finger in bit by bit then draws it back out. He adds another and urges inside even deeper.

His tongue teases you to the edge as he pushes in and out of your cunt. He hums and drinks you up, spreading his tongue as wide as he can to taste all over you. He seals his lips once more around your clit and the pressure pinpoints, pulsing faster and faster until your muscles release.

There's a sudden surge and a hot flow coursing from you, dripping down his fingers. You convulse and whimper as you wash away with your orgasm.

He kisses your cunt before he sits up. You watch him, bleary-eyed, and he wipes the glisten from his beard with a hum. He inhales so his chest puffs out and he cracks his neck.

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right," he growls.

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

Sentient Gotham

- Bruce regularly chats w her. Like, full blown conversations. He can see a physical manifestation of her like she’s right in front of him, but completely invisible to everyone else

- Zatanna does not believe him. She’s Gotham born and bred and a powerful magician, but she cannot sense a living breathing Gotham the way Bruce claims he can

- Constantine does believe him, but it’s mostly to spite Zatanna

- Gotham calls herself Bruce’s mom and frequently whines about him not calling her that

> “I had a mother. And a father. They’re both dead.” > “WHEN WILL YOU STOP BLAMING ME FOR THAT?!” > “When I’m convinced it’s not true.”

- Bruce’s kids also don’t believe him about the whole ‘I talk to Gotham’ thing for a long time and think he’s either lost his mind, he’s schizophrenic, or that he’s fucking w them

- they do eventually see and speak to her themselves

- Jason first sees her right before his death, which was an incredibly difficult task for her. It’s a combination of reasons. 1) like Bruce, Jason is a Gotham City native and has deep ties to the city, 2) he has deep ties to Bruce, 3) she was also there to comfort Bruce because she knew he wouldn’t be fast enough. But Jason sees this gorgeous woman who cradles his cheek and murmurs soft words to him that he’ll only end up remembering many years later

> “Your father loves you. He tried. So please don’t hate him. It’s my fault, not his.”

- Bruce frequently wonders why it’s him who can see her and no one else, to which she always just says it’s because he’s her son

- Bruce’s connection to Gotham…changes him. He is human, at least…mostly. But there’s an otherworldliness to him that grows over the years which he’s stupidly oblivious to for a very long time

- Gotham has beef w Alfred purely because he’s British

> “I could’ve raised you better than that man!” > “I do not tolerate disrespect for Alfred.” > whining, “But babyyyyyy. He’s an outsider!”

- she adores Bruce’s kids and frequently whines about how they don’t believe she’s real. But at the same time, Bruce is her absolute beloved

- after Jason’s death, she’s the one who basically sends Tim Bruce’s way to stop his self destructive behavior. Tim had been taking pictures of Batman and Robin for a while, but Gotham had fogged over his mind just a little bit to prevent him from putting the pieces together about their identity. When she stops, it finally clicks for Tim and it’s what leads him to becoming Robin

- the kids all have their moment when they finally can see and speak to her. It happens at different times, but the important reason as to why they’re able to do so is due to their relationship to Bruce and the length of time they’ve been around him. It comes at the moment where they’ve reached optimal and absolute trust in Bruce

- Bruce does actually call her ‘mom’, but it happened once and she will never let him forget it

> Bruce getting worked up during a conversation w Gotham in front of Dick and Tim > “Dick….who is he talking to?” > “You don’t want to know.” > “My mom won’t stop badgering me- No. No. I didn’t say that. I didn’t call you that! You can’t prove anything!”

- Gotham comforts Bruce often when he feels like he’s not enough. His failures weigh heavy in his heart, but she’s always there to talk him through it

> “Why me? Why am I the one you picked? I’m not enough. I never will be.” > “You are and you always will be. Bruce, you do so much for this city. For me. For your family.” > “It’s not enough.” > “You are only mostly human, Bruce Wayne. You have done things no one else could ever hope to do. If any one else were in your position, they would not have nearly enough strength as you do.”

- several months later, after Bruce is just idly going over case files, he remembers the ‘mostly human’ part of what Gotham said to him. He’d glossed over it before in his depressive spiral, but now he’s like !?

> “Gotham….” > “Yes, my dear?” > “‘Mostly human’. Care to explain what that means?” > awkward laugh, “Uh…..” > “Gotham.” > “I didn’t do it on purpose! I had no control!” > “Gotham.”

- order of who sees Gotham:

Bruce (obviously)

Jason (first time)

Tim

Duke

Jason (second time)

Steph

Dick

Cass

Damian

- the last three take a while but mostly because they’re not Gotham natives. Dick’s a little bitter about it because he practically spent his entire life in Gotham

> “You’re a traitor.” > “WHAT DID I DO?” > disgust, “Blüdhaven.” > “Oh. Whoops.”

- While Gotham is Bruce’s #1 Supporter™️, she is at times critical of his behavior and decisions. Particularly about things that damage his relationship w loved ones and things that he chooses to do in order to hurt himself

- she finds ‘Brucie’ to be distasteful

> “I didn’t raise you to be a whore.” > “You didn’t raise me to begin with.” > “STOP DENYING ME PARENTAL RIGHTS!”

- Gotham is, obviously, restricted to only appear within Gotham City’s borders. She’s only able to break through that restriction a handful of times, w the first being when Jason dies. There are a few other instances and she’s popped up on the Watchtower and jumpscared Bruce by accident. The JL were very confused and incredibly amused

- She’s able to take on the form of anyone, but sticks to a unique appearance of a woman w long black hair and pale skin. Her eyes are white and she’s typically dressed in a suit

> young Bruce, in awe, “You kind of look like me if I were cooler.” > “You’re plenty cool, Bruce.” > adult Bruce, tired, “Why are you in a suit?” > “Because I look cool, Bruce. You said so yourself.” > “I was ten!”

- she once offered to take on the appearance of his mother and Bruce shot it down so fast. She never brought it up again

- when Clark found out about her, he believed Bruce immediately. He’s the only one Bruce ever told who believed him right off the bat

> “You…don’t think I’m insane?” > “I do.” > “Then why would you lie and say you believe me?” > “Because I do. You’re insane about a lot of things, Bruce. But you sounded too serious when you told me about this, so why would I ever think you’re lying?”

- Gotham begrudgingly likes Clark

> “You hate Alfred for being an outsider, but Clark is in your good graces?” > “He’s an alien. It’s different.” > “He’s also from Metropolis.” > “Shhhhhh, don’t remind me. I’m trying to be blissfully ignorant.”