#i love going here because its so pretty but like

[rosenclaws]

Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭

warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting

a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.

Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.

Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.

"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.

“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or…”

“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.

“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.

“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”

“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.

Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.

“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."

"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.

"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.

"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."

"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.

"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.

"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.

Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.

"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.

"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.

"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.

"Fine."

You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.

You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.

"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.

"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.

"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.

"Alright deal."

Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.

It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.

You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.

He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.

Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.

He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.

"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.

A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.

"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.

"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?

The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.

"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.

"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.

"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.

"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.

"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.

"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."

"Well she's my girlfriend."

"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.

"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.

Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.

"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.

"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.

Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.

Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.

"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."

"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.

"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.

"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.

"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.

Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.

"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."

You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.

"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.

"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.

"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.

"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.

There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.

"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."

"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.

Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.

"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."

"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.

"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.

"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"

"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.

"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.

"What?" You ask in disbelief.

Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.

"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."

"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.

"It doesn't matter,"

"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.

"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.

All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.

"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.

His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.

His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.

"I wish we had done this sooner."

"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.

"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.

"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.

"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.

"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.

God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.

"I've never been better. Now, take me home."

[lemon-berri]

Perfume (pt 2)

Satoru has been quiet today. Gone is the usual chatter, the jokes about how his day went. He watches you silently, eyes swimming with a well of emotions.

Every so often, he opens his mouth like he's going to say something. Only to pause, and retreat back into himself.

Life without you for this long has left him broken. He is tired, a husk of a man just going through the motions of daily life. Every day that he wakes without you by his side, he feels a deep, agonising pain in his chest. Like someone has taken out a vital organ and he's fighting to survive.

But he puts on a brave face, for his students, for his friends. For you. He talks to you in a happy tone whenever he visits, just in case you can hear him. Because he doesn't want you to worry unnecessarily.

Though, knowing you, you'd see right through his act.

His eyes trail across the room to the window, he can't tell you this. At least not while he looks at you.

"I had another meeting with the higher ups today.."

Again, hes met with silence. The only response is the gentle sound of your breathing. He has no idea if you're listening but he goes on.

"It's been three months without you now. In case you haven't been keeping track." There's a chuckle, but there's no humour behind it. Rather it's a dark, hopeless sound. "I've been refusing all overseas missions, how can I go anywhere knowing you're...." he can't find the right words. You're not exactly hurt, there's no physical injuries on you. Sleeping seems too simple. Coma too medical -and saying it out loud would make this nightmare too real.

His crystal eyes flit back towards you, only to move down to the floor.

"The pressure built up. They've ordered me to go. I'll be leaving tomorrow, and I'll be gone a week."

"But don't worry. You won't be alone. Everyone promised they'd come to visit you, I made sure of it. I wouldn't want my angel to get lonely without me, yeah?" Satoru tries another chuckle, but this one comes out more like a sob, and he quickly covers his mouth.

He's torn up. He doesn't want to leave your bedside, he'd rather watch the world burn than leave your side. But duty calls, and your friends promised they'd be here. Shoko promised she'd keep him updated too, in case there were any changes.

Satoru is quiet for a little longer, looking at you now, the way your pretty lashes brush against your skin, the way your lips part ever so gently. You're so beautiful it hurts, and the guilt in his stomach is making him feel sick. But he has to go.

Finally, he gets up, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead. He refuses to say goodbye. In his mind, he'll be right back. Instead, he says.

"I love you."

Its not enough to describe the way he feels.

There are so many stairs. Too many stairs. You've gone up at least five thousand steps so far- in a winding tower that seems to stretch for eternity. But you're not tired. Because your physical form isn't here.

You've managed to figure out that this endless tower must be your consciousness. Every time you open a door, a different memory plays out in front of you like a scene in a play, and you quickly close it. The stones are strong, rough and cold. They've been through a lot, but will no doubt last for years to come.

Though you can't figure out where that floral smell is coming from.

You're not here to relive your memories though. You're not here by choice at all. By now you've figured out you're a prisoner in your own mind. And your captor..?

You hear it every so often, a distant growl, followed by a crack.

Tick.

Tick.

BANG.

The sound is one of a wall being broken, and your head pounds, like you've lost some vital part of your very being.

The cursed spirit has somehow managed to trap you within your own consciousness. And it actively seems to be attempting to destroy your mind, your memories.

A weaker person would've succumbed by now, faded into nothing. But you're fighting it. For each mental brick knocked down you put up another. This will not be your end. You will survive. You have to.

You have too much to lose.

If only you could find the wretched creature and finally exorcise it.

You pause to listen, leaning your back against the cold stone wall of the tower. Time passes weirdly in here and you're sure by now people in the real world must be getting worried about you. Your guess is that you must've been in here for at least an entire day.

Tick.

Tick.

Crack.

BANG.

Its not use. No matter how far you ascend it always sounds like it's coming from above you. Yet when you look up you're only met with more stairs, fading away into unknown darkness. Your gaze falls downwards instead, into the void from which you came- the stairs you've already climbed. It would be so easy to give in.. to just go back down.

The darkness beckons you. It's warm arms wrap around your limbs, it's peaceful silence calling out to you. And you feel yourself stepping towards it. But then something catches your eye.

An elaborate ring on your left hand, glimmering in the darkness. Aquamarine, like a certain pair of eyes as familiar to you as the sky, a sight like an endless ocean, your favourite sight in the world. A smile. A voice.

"I love you"

His voice. It rings out across the empty space. You stop moving.

Satoru... You can't give up. Not when he's waiting for you.

Youre sprinting across the stairs now, faster and faster. Weightless with your new found determination. Theres no pain, no fear. You'll survive because you have to.

Finally there's a light, the tower opens at the top into a rotunda- nothing but an endless, cloudless sky stretching beyond. This must be it, the very core of your soul.

A hiss sounds behind you, and you whip around, already ready to attack.

You will survive.

Satoru gets back from a long day of trying to track down a special grade. So out of it that he doesn't even remember what country he's in.

Singapore? Sri Lanka? It was something with an "S" anyway.

He flops his full weight down onto the hotel bed, letting out a deep exhale. His limbs stretch out, and his heavy eyelids start to close, when he hears a buzz.

The man groans, long limbs turning lethargically. He reaches for his phone, cracking one eye open lazily to look. Who could be contacting him at this time anyway-

He almost drops the phone on his face.

23 missed calls from Shoko.

His tiredness evaporates, and he sits up instantly, fumbling with his phone to quickly call her back. As soon as Shoko picks up he starts talking.

"Shoko. Hi. What is it? Is everything alright? Is she okay-"

"Satoru." Shoko interrupts him. "She's awake."

I wasn't originally planning a part 2 to this, but I was so moved by the amount of people who enjoyed part 1 that I had a burst of inspiration to write this! So thank you all 🩵

Pt1 Pt 3

I might do a part 3 where they reunite finally. I just like cliffhanger endings and I didn't want this to get too long.

I had a skim through to check for spelling but as usual if anyone points out my mistakes I'll crash out. 🩵

🩵Thank you for reading 🩵

Dividers by @bunnysrph

🌟Tag list🌟 @seternic @hel1nn

[222prettysickgirl777]

spencer reid nsfw alphabet

primarily softdom!spencer bcos i can’t stop thinking about that man and what id let him do to me x

18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

spencer is so unbelievably sweet and gentle afterward, no matter what you’ve done, if it was something tame and simple or something more intense. he’s a huge cuddler and loves to have as much contact as possible, smushing your face to his and murmuring praise and sweet nothings so you know you’re loved. if there are any marks on you he’ll take such good care of you, being so gentle, asking if it hurts and what you need, etc.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

spencer likes his brain and his hands because you like his hands. he’s a tits man, but i think his favorite part of you is your brain or your face or something more mundane like even your back. he thinks all of you is so gorgeous he probably could never pick a favorite part.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i don’t think he cares that much one way or another about it. its messy so he’s not a big fan of that, but after sex he’s never rushing to clean it up if you just need him to hold you for a while. but he won’t sleep on dirty sheets, that’s for sure. either a towel is going down first or he’s setting you up with a blanket to curl up on the couch while he strips the bed and remakes it with clean sheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i think he quite likes the idea of taking dirty photos of you or even just suggestive/lewd ones. if you did one of those boudoir photo shoots and gave it to him he’d be OBSESSED. but he knows how easy it is for people to steal photos stored online so if he did it he’d have them as hard copies only. i also think he’s extremely possessive and would so buy you a ring with his initials engraved on the inside or a necklace with the tiniest letter S. he likes seeing you in stuff he bought or even just in his clothing cos he’s territorial and he likes people knowing you’re his.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

it depends. earlier in the show, not much experience, but later on he’s gotten with a decent number of girls, probably all the ones he has one episode romances with. he’s too much of a workaholic to care THAT much about sleeping with women, but he occasionally will take the opportunity. regardless of how much experience he has, that boy knows what he’s doing. he’s done lots of research and is a quick learner and so eager to please.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. spooning comes in second place.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it’s serious for him. not that he can’t ever be happy and smiley during, but cos for him it’s an expression of how devoted he is n how much he loves you, so it matters quite a lot to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s very well maintained and hygienic. that’s all i can say.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

incredibly intimate. like i said, its a love language for him. he doesn’t see the point in it really unless it’s about being with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not something he does a ton, but if he starts thinking about you like that, and you’re not around, sure. he’s never had any hang ups around that cos before you he didn’t have that much time to find women to hook up with, and he knows its just a natural human instinct. but he can only get off if he’s thinking about you now.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

shibari. i wrote a whole thing about this, which you can read here. he likes anything where you willingly submit yourself to him. if he never had to force you into submission that would be fine by him, he likes to be gentle with you. but sometimes YOU like being bratty just to see that small glint in his eye, cos even though it’s not his favorite thing in the world, he knows exactly what to do with you when you get like that, and he’s not afraid to do it. it’s especially fun to tease him in public just to feel his grip on your waist get a bit tighter and see how he lets his dominant side out a bit more, even in public. he’d never do anything that would make the people around you uncomfortable, but if they were paying attention they’d see the way he gives you warning looks when you misbehave, or how when he decides you’ve had enough alcohol or coffee he just takes the drink out of your hands and switches you to water, or any of the ways he’s casually dominant like that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere in the apartment. on the couch, on the bed, in the shower, at his desk. just nowhere where food typically is, and he always cleans up well and disinfects surfaces afterward. he’ll fuck you over his desk and afterward when you come out of the shower the office will smell like bleach and lemon disinfectant.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it doesn’t take a lot, and sometimes you’re not even sure what you’ve done when you see that wanting look in his eye. sometimes you’re just brushing your teeth, or getting a midnight snack, or making a cup of tea. he can control himself quite easily, so its never a problem. but even just you making a sarcastic snarky joke will turn him on, or flipping your hair to take your earrings out at the end of the day in front of the mirror. he basically exists in a state of perpetually wanting you so can be ready whenever.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don’t think he’s big into degrading you. even when he’s domming you it’s almost coming from a submissive place, if that makes sense? he worships you and when he dominates you its to please you and give you what you want and deserve, and to express his total overwhelming adoration. the most he’ll do is teasingly call you a slut, affectionately basically, and not when you’re actually having sex. all he can think about during sex is how divine you are. also he’s not into choking you (sees too much of that in his job) or too-rough impact play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

loves both but if he could only have one for the rest of his life, it’d be giving. he’s extremely good at it. spencer is a munch through and through. he’ll eat you out for literal hours, until your face is soaked in tears and you’re all twitchy. he loves to make you whiny and hear your quiet broken begs for him to please stop, no more spence, can’t i can’t i can’t, even as you’re pulling his hair, pushing him closer, grinding into his mouth and cumming again with a relieved sigh, cos he knows you want it, he knows you like being overstimulated and used for hours, you’re just too shy polite and sweet to ask for it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

slow and deep. he likes to fuck you so deep your jaw drops, toes curl and back arches. you’re gonna feel every inch dragging in and out of you. he’ll do that til you’re begging for it faster, on the brink of cumming but just needing that little push. and then he’ll keep doing it. he’d never say “no cumming until i say so” because why say it when he doesn’t have to, and can just decide for you? he’ll fuck you slow and hard until he decides you need to cum, and then he’ll give it to you, whispering sweet things all while you cry and scratch your nails down his back.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he finds the idea of mutual release romantic. sex as something you can do together to relieve stress. so if you both need it, he’ll do it. it’s almost like a ritual before a rossi party or anything like that, where you fuck just before you go, almost to relax both of your social anxieties (and bcos you look so pretty in your dress he just has to slip your underwear off). unfortunately sometimes he goes into it with the intention of making it quick, but he simply gets so lost in you it turns into and hour and a half long session where by the end the event is probably over anyways.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if he’s really wound up, yes. your sex life is a spectrum of vanilla to kinky and the more stressed he is, the more he wants you to completely surrender to him, the more he wants to show you who you belong to and the lengths he’ll go to to please you. his go to that lets you know he’s in an intense mood is tying your wrists behind your back or above your head, either intricately with rope or with cuffs if he doesn’t have the patience. he’d never do anything if you showed any signs of resistance or not wanting it, but he’ll suggest more experimental stuff. he’d also do anything you wanted to try as long as it didn’t involve hurting you physically or mentally.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as long as necessary. he enters some kind of flow state with you where he’s so focused on you he’s not even thinking about himself and has immaculate self control. if he wants to see what you look like after your sixth orgasm, he’s gonna get you there, that becomes his only goal. he can fuck you on and off for forty five minutes before he cums if he so feels like it, just to turn you into a completely melted, pliable mess.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

aside from restraints, i think the only toy he has is one vibrator that either used to be yours or he bought just to use on you. sometimes he likes having you at the edge of the bed, completely naked and thighs spread, while he stands above you fully dressed, teasing you with the vibrator and then making you cum that way until you’re a soaked mess. he just plays with you like you’re a toy, and after you’re smearing your wetness between your thighs and dripping onto the bed, maybe he’ll unzip just enough to fuck you because you’re so ready for him, or maybe he’ll just admire you like that for a while before kissing your head and cleaning you up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s not a huge tease, but he will deny you sex if you’re too drunk, or behaved too badly, or if he thinks you want it for the wrong reasons. he’s actually way more likely to make you cum until your legs are trembling and your clit goes numb cos your body just can’t handle more, than he is to tease or edge you. not saying it NEVER happens, it will, just not super often. but when he does, he gets really into it, like wants to work you up to the point of insanity and bargaining with him and begging him to let you cum, before he makes you cum so hard you legit go nonverbal for a while after and just need to cuddle him and cry.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he talks a lot during sex (it’s spencer, duh). other than that he makes noises that are almost desperate, he whines sometimes, loud groans when he cums. also swears more during sex than any other time to the point where if you hear him swear in public you automatically need to press your thighs together.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

will occasionally in public whisper something suggestive into you ear and then act like it didn’t happen just to see you get worked up and flustered and not be able to do anything about it, just fighting not to go into subspace and sometimes giving up and getting really quiet and needy and clingy to him. again, wouldn’t do this in a context where it could embarrass you or make you bad at your job or anything.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

over six inches, and he’s gorgeous. prettiest youve ever seen. if you’re someone who doesn’t really like the appearance of dicks, he would be an exception.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

before you sex or jacking off was just a response to a natural instinct, but now its a way for him to express love and affection, and just be close to you. sometimes he initiates when he’s not even turned on, just thinking about how much he loves you and wants to be close to you. can totally see you cuddling in the middle of the night and he pushes your shorts and underwear to the side to gently fill you up, just to hear your soft little moan and feel you wrap your legs around him. he doesn’t care if he cums or not, he only wants to be as close to you as possible most of the time, and sometimes that means being inside you. he can fuck whenever, but he’s also content just to hold you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he doesn’t fall asleep quickly after unless you were domming him. usually he’s the type to stay up and ponder philosophically with you in his arms long after youve fallen asleep. he definitely gets hit with post nut clarity, not the kind where he doesn’t want you anymore, he just starts thinking about life and shit, and how much he loves you and how much his life has changed.

this won’t be to everyone’s taste but i’ve got a very specific version of him in my mind and he lives there rent free. inbox always open for spencer thoughts xx

[wellofdean]

got these tags today from prev: #i think it's beautiful bc it didn't set out to be queer#life uh finds a way#it's not the best television ever#like not legit among the greats#but it had some incredible moments

And like... I have made a LOT of posts, at great length saying why I think Dean was always imagined as a queer character, and where the queerness was baked into the DNA of the show from episode one, and which I will not reprise here, but as much as I disagree that the queer glory of Supernatural is something it tripped and fell into by accident somehow, and without everyone involved knowing that queerness was part of what they were making, I do agree with something here: it's beautiful because it was a fucking journey.

Supernatural was not like today's prestige television with a tight 8-10 episodes and a fully planned narrative from day one, it was old-timey TV that arose out of things like Twin Peaks and The X-Files, falling somewhere between a weekly procedural and a serial. It had broad plot arcs sketched out, but the day-to-day grind of writing and making it was driven by characters that took on depth and meaning as it went along; network television long seasons with lots of filler that did nothing to further the serial plot, but let us get to know the characters, who became more and more lovable and real the more time we spent with them, in an organic way.

Maybe my Gen-X is showing here, but there's something beautiful about something that feels open-ended, isn't there? I mean, Supernatural STILL feels open-ended. Like, any moment now patient zero Jensen is going to suit up and tell us more of Dean's story, and we won't know where it's going and it will be fucking GREAT just to spend any time whatsoever with Dean? Television nowadays feels so PLANNED and yeah, there's some great stuff out there, but Supernatural had something special and fucking great that doesn't really exist anymore.

Like, what does it mean "one of the best" or "legit among the greats"? Supernatural was 15 years of storytelling, and for all the fucking kvetching on this, the Supernatural website, about its vagaries, it was pretty consistently well written. Jensen Ackles is a legit great actor who is seriously underrated for his sheer fucking craft, and as much as it is undeniable that Supernatural has some genuinely silly episodes, taken as a whole, when all of it is in your mind, the themes and threads in it are unironically epic in scope, and it has legitimately interesting things to say about those themes. AND it has incredible moments. AND the most devastaingly romantic love story I can think of.

Like, fellas, it's one of the best TO ME. It's legit among MY greats, and I would argue it deserves a place up there.

I got this one hobby horse, and god knows I'm gonna saddle up and ride it: Supernatural was a legitimately good show and it was queer as hell in its very bones.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

[mythalism]

i think what people need to understand is that no amount of essays assuring me of veilguard's strengths, of which i agree there are plenty, is going to change the fact that the emotional experience veilguard prompted within me (and for many others) while i played it was a deeply negative one. discomfort at best, painful at worst. im talking stomach aches. visceral, somatic creeping disappointment and dread that i tried to fight for hours and hours but eventually had no choice but to accept. i stopped wanting to play entirely around 30 hours. i felt vaguely ill. i felt anxious. i could not sleep for a few days. and im not saying i felt sick because it was so bad, but that i felt sick because of the sinking realization that i was about to be terribly, horribly disappointed after so, so long. you could call me dramatic and im sure someone will. idk what to tell you. my emotions manifest physically long before they become decipherable or understandable to me mentally, especially when they're 10 years in the making. probably an autism symptom. regardless, it was genuinely pretty awful, especially because i had immense good faith for this game. i was so hopeful and optimistic and generally thrilled and literally anyone who followed me before october 31 would know that. the emotional whiplash and crash was intense and devastating, and i was reeling for days. you cannot tell me that this experience was "wrong" or "toxic" due to it's negative nature. it was entirely involuntary and outside of my control, as i would expect many people's joy was. emotional reactions are not beholden to fandom discourse.

any post i have made criticizing the game since is attempt to make sense of the emotional roller-coaster of the past 10 years, this summer, and finally this game's release. i do not come on here and write out my criticisms of veilguard because i want YOU to dislike it too. the nature of my essays are not persuasive. if they do persuade you its just because i am a well-trained essayist. sorry. if they dont, great! that wasnt the point. i have no desire to change anyone's mind on the game, in fact i actually would not wish the disappointment i felt on anyone. the fact that i have a lot of followers who agree with what i say and who spread the thoughts i express across tumblr is literally out of my control. when i write out my long-winded criticisms, it is out of a need to express and externalize that sinking, cold feeling i had while playing, in pursuit of understanding exactly why playing that game felt that way to me. identifying, analyzing and verbalizing is the only way i have been able to process my experience. its confessional and therapeutic more than anything. it helps other people understand their own difficult emotional process with the game. its not an attempt to ruin your fun. my negative experience with veilguard does not invalidate anyone else's positive one.

i see so many posts acting like all criticism is an intentional, targeted hate campaign and i dont understand that assumption. to what ends? what would that achieve? why would i bother with such a thing? maybe that is some people's intention in the deep hater corners of this website, and im blissfully unaware. if it is, fuck them. its certainly the intention of annoying grifters, but i feel the distinction between transphobe grifters and devastated fans is pretty clear, so im not sure why the lines are deliberately blurred as if those groups are remotely similar. some of my criticisms come from a more objective place. the writing comes to mind, and it's a consistent criticism from thousands of players. but just because i consider it to be poorly executed, does not make it unlovable. and when i say that i think its poorly done, i am not saying that you cannot or should not love it, or that you are stupid for loving it. maybe someone out there is saying that!!! but i am not. things do not have to be perfect to be enjoyable. they dont even have to be well executed to be enjoyable. "i think x aspect of veilguard is poorly done for yz reasons" is a completely different sentence than "you should not like x aspect of veilguard for yz reasons". these are not the same statements. i see so many posts that are so vitriolic and acting like two experiences of this game cannot coexist, that one has to win and be objectively right, moralizing them on a false axis of positivity = good and negativity = bad, and acting like the existence of one negates the experience of the other. and why? why would that be true? i literally love so many things that other people think are absolute ass. i also love plenty of things that i myself think are actual ass. i love them anyway. this is allowed and really fun. i am not sure who told you that it is not.

however, i have just as much of a right to express my disappointment as you have to express your excitement. i am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the game, i am glad it resonated, or that you saw yourself in its characters, or that it just scratched your hyperfixation itch. but whatever je ne se quoi it had for you, it did not have for me. i have written out so much criticism about so many aspects of the game, but fundamentally what it comes down to and what i cannot express in words is that while i played after waiting 10 years for that moment, it felt wrong. it wasn't that i had specific expectations for game story that were not met, in fact, it exceeded my expectations in a lot of ways. i mean that in terms of how i felt, something was off. it did not resonate. it did not land. it did not hit the right cord with me. i did not have enough moments of joy to outweigh the feeling of emptiness. i did not walk away from it feeling the way that the previous games made me feel. and ive been trying to figure out exactly why that is for three months now by talking about it with people who feel similarly. i am not sure that i will ever be able to analyze my way into figuring it out. it might just have to simply be that it left me bereft.

and so my posts are not anti-veilguard hater propaganda to make you feel like shit for loving the game. rather, they are me verbally processing exactly why i feel like shit so i can hopefully stop feeling like shit. to assume that people who are trying to process these negative feelings are toxic and intentionally malicious is a projection made in bad faith. i love dragon age, and it is because i love it so much that it disappointed me, and it is because disappointed me that i have to verbally process it on tumblr.com so that i dont go absolutely insane. i tag my posts properly. i do not go into tags where i do not belong. i do not rage-bait. i am participating in post-partum dragon age therapy between me and my followers. if it ends up on your dash, sorry. my therapy is popular i guess. so please for the love of god enjoy the game, freely and enthusiastically. i am happy for you. i will sit here and be jealous that it spoke to something in your soul that it unfortunately did not speak to in mine, and nothing i say can take that away from you. please stop interpreting it as an attempt to.

[haveihitanerve]

I discovered a glorious snippet of a video of Tom being absolutely enraged, Luke being a little shit, Sam wanting to kill himself, and AJ losing it, and decided I absolutely must share, but me being me also has thoughts- so here you are

“Was yours send her down? The way your eyes glint- very weird” Tom is scared and yet intrigued

Sams miming of a woman falling down a trap door, coupled with Luke’s maniacal evil laugh and Tom’s little smile of delight- perfection

“For such a heinous crime.” oh no! What did she do??? “She laughed at me.” …. oh.. no…?

The cackler in the audience has my heart

“Okay.” Oh no Sam- oh no- “What do you mean “okay”?” I don't like that tone of voice- Sam apologize- apologize now sam-

“I just.. I heard what you said. Affirmative.” Sam😭 sam please-

“I saw you *increases in pitch because he knows it’ll break Sam* raise your eyebrows.” little shit i love him :P

Sam: *predictably, breaks*

“What are you doing laughing at me?!?!” Luke you are evil- also Tom is like dancing with delight, he is thoroughly enjoying this. 

“Another has been terminated your- my lord.” AJ!!! You had ONE job!!! 😭

Oh Luke’s grin is evil

Aj looking away- “if i cant see him he cant see me” -captions: [uh oh]

The fear in AJ’s eyes, while Luke just waits- content to let him suffer and squirm XD

“What did you just say?” The voice again, trying to break him- Luke please have mercy-

Tom leaned forward, arm propped on one knee, thoroughly still enjoying watching the others suffer lol

“I'm sorry uh sometimes my accent wavers into- different… words.” AJ you sweet precious summer child-

Captions: [pretty much AJ’s life story]

“I said: “he's been terminated. Yo-my lord-” which is- means where i'm from-” Luke doesn't even give him a chance to finish 😭

Tom leaping up, he is ready to join the fun XD

Tom speaking slowly and carefully so he doesn't mess up lmaooo

Staring at each other in silence… waiting for one to break….

“Why are you staring at me?” ohhhh has luke got him? “Im just being attentive to you, my lord.” oh Tom is quick wit it!

“I like that… for now.” Oooooh Luke cant let anything slide lol

“Seems quite indecisesive of you my lord.” Trying to cover it up- no tom- nooooo

“It seems hhwwatttt?” Luke is taking his time, this is glorious

“Quite indecisives of you my lord.” “Quite indecises?” LMAO POOR TOM

They cant stop grinning at each other its so beautiful-

“Its a shame because i was hoping to turn the tables, but clearly i fucked it.” resigned and steps forward to die- brilliant

AJ and Sam laughing in the background because haha you thought you were better than us Tom, but we all fall mercy eventually

The way AJ and Tom are just casually standing in the back, slowly bobbing side to side because they cant sit still so why would they be able to stand still lol its so cute

Sam has just decided to dedicate to the bit and fuck everything up- icon

Oh my gods plot twist-?!?!?!?!?

*actually gasped aloud wow* 

“You look so ghostly pale brother.” “that's because i am a ghost.” WHAAAAAAAT

“Send me down.” *attempts to pull the lever* “...im a ghost.” 

Ok now we get to the aforementioned portion where everyone wants to die and Tom loses it: prepare yourselves-

“Opera.” Tom’s face- just a casual huff of breath of “oh gods no please”

The way AJ is grinning at Luke like “no. no no, babes don't do it- please” 

Luke’s stance 😭 hes so contemplating this noo but yessss

Sam: fuck it lets do it!

No sam, no no no, but yesssss

Both Tom and AJ already admitting defeat with a disappointed head in the hands pose XD

Luke casually noticing and laughing and pointing at Tom lmaooo

“We said we were gonna do a good show.” Tom sounds ready to end it all- XD

Tom and AJ communicating across stage like please no- Tom glances at Sam, but he’s already attempting to get into headspace so he doesn't lose it XD

Tom and AJ: *shrug at each other in outrage when Luke does, in fact, go with it*

Sam: *staring at the floor like he's preparing for war*

Luke: barn dance? BARN DANCE. Tom: FOR FUCKS SAKE! LMAOOOO

“Its just a word to start us off.” pretending innocence

“Its two words, you prick.” Tom has never gotten this british before- iconic XD

Luke is thoroughly enjoying everything happening

“You're gonna be in this fucking scene.” Now he has to make it official- fuck they’re such assholes to each other its glorious XD

Tom: I KNOWWW!!! OTHERWISE I WOULDN'T MIND

Poor tom 😭🤣

AJ clapping for Tom to stand up while actively trying to make himself as heavy as possible so he doesn't have to stand and join

Luke: *not letting it slide and nudging his arm to try and get him to go do it*

Hey, Sam’s not bad! He’s not singing opera, but its very pretty lol

While dissociating of course

AJ joining and them harmonizing- chefs kiss 😭

Also Luke casually running to hide in the wings so nobody ropes him in- COWARD

AJ: *starts and immediately cuts off when he realizes Sam has not continued. traitor XD*

Tom: WEEELLLLL AJ: *fights demons not to laugh- entire face scrunching as his body twitches- he did not see that coming*

“OH welcome to the barn DAaAAaaNCE!!” ok AJ’s broken, Luke has folded completely and Tom is just half singing half yelling atp- completely done with everything and everyone XD

Captions: [half singing and half cracking]

[not sure what this is actually]

Both Aj and Sam are gone LMAOOO

Captions: [no longer singing just cracking] im GLAaaAAD you've combined these two genres together!!! (We know you are Tom, we know XD)

“And i do not regret any of my choices in life!!” I love how actually usually AJ is the one who can and does sing, but because they all want him to suffer, they've made Tom do it instead this time, and AJ just does not lol

“My deaaRRR, Molly PeEEEELL” yes AJ!!! Hit those notes! Damn. my jaw actually dropped, that's some beautiful singing right there- high and clean, very nice. 

Casually they're just regularly singing now, but its very good and it rhymes -so well done👏10/10 would attend a concert

“Left foot forward!” good work Tom???? 😭????

Aj casually trying to take more steps??? AJ he literally said “left foot forward.” come on! XD

Luke loosing it behind the curtain -i really thought atp one of them would have forced him to join…

Luke fully loosing it XD

“Right! Foot- uh- backwaraaaaads!” sometimes i forget theyre making stuff up on the spot and then he pulls shi like this XD

Also- is he making them do the splits? Evil tom. E v i l 

AJ and Sam holding hands 😭 cuties

Sam flipping Tom off 😭XD he is making them do the splits!

Aj massaging Tom’s shoulders afterwards to like calm him down 😭 they're so cute i can’t-

So anyway this was basically Luke being a little shit and annoying everyone, while Tom tried his best to torture the other two because he was so done with everything, AJ split between dying of laughter, slaying at singing, and being resigned and disappointed(a rare sight, usually everyone is disappointed with him, not him with them) and Sam disassociating and being a ghost and also questioning why he is even friends with any of them anymore XD

So i hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and yeah :) 

@dawn-speckled @snek-of-eden

[ink-stainedkiss]

On Campus: The Prize of Affection

pairing: Geto x Reader x Gojo

← 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 / 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟏 / 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 →

Contents: college au, SLOW BURN, fluff + angst + smut, alcohol, frat parties, attempts of spiking, harassment, some violence, jealousy, pining, flirting, MULTI ENDS, happy ending.

Well, after two years of the same thing—rambling professors and poorly written notes—you were finally starting your third year of college. It felt dreadfully monotonous. Mostly because you knew the first day of your freshman year you were going to keep your identity on the down low and your grades higher than ever. It was great because this plan worked better than ever. You had a steady job, the local coffee shop, working with two of your closest friends, and most of all, your transcript practically screamed a high paying job in your future.

So yeah, it kinda made you jealous seeing the frat parties houses being raided by energetic students alike. Would you love to dress up and act like you didn’t have a test the next day? Of course. Almost everyone in college pictured their nights to look like that. They also thought college would be a breeze, but even you were caught off guard your first year.

“Thinking hard over there?” A deep voice chuckled, nudging your arm. Pulled out of your trance, you blinked, and faced the sound. Choso, your coworker here at the cafe, had seen your focused expression and was not doing a very good job at hiding his smirk. Scoffing, you pushed off the counter you had been leaning against, and sent him a glare,”Yeah, imaging different jobs to apply for, so I can get away from you.”

Choso raised a brow and it wasn’t long before your faux look dropped and you giggled. He smiled,”It’s about class, isn’t it?” You shrugged with an expression mixed with unsureness and agreement,”I mean I guess, but I’m not like nervous to go back…if you get what i’m saying.”

His lips trilled,dismissing your words,”You have Professor Yaga, I would be shitting myself.” Rolling your eyes, you stared out to the rising sky, content with the almost purple ambience across the street. The first hour of the morning shift was always the best,”You’re such a baby. He’s not that bad.”

Choso walked toward his premade coffee, sipping it and watching you with unamused eyes behind the mug,”The difference is because he actually likes you.” Glancing back toward the glass front of the shop, you saw your first customer of the day walk toward the door,”No, the difference is I have the intelligence to keep up with his lectures.”

Your coworker’s jaw dropped, but he couldn’t say anything, since the customer walked in with a pleased smile. What you didn’t tell Choso was that you were slightly nervous for class, but not about the teacher. It’s just, something felt off. You knew your routine like the back of your hand and it brought you comfort, so waking up early before the sun approaches was just normal for you. However, today just didn’t sit right in your chest. Like you knew something was going to go wrong.

You liked being right, but at that moment you hoped you were entirely incorrect.

𖤓

It was a bit shocking how your boss was so lenient with your work schedule. You woke up around five, opened the shop at six with Choso or whoever was assigned to the morning, then waited till nine to leave. Your class starts thirty minutes after that, so it gives you so much down time. Walking across the campus, books held against one arm while you moved, you prayed that the nauseating feeling was just a bad muffin you snuck from the front.

One thing the movies did correct was that college was pretty packed. It seemed every second you were maneuvering around barriers of people that also seemed to have no special awareness. Still, it was just a customary thing for college, so you trudged forward. The entrance to the school was just ahead, its path covered in chiseled quotes on its stone floor, and a majestic statue of a crane ahead of the doors.

You were only halfway when your phone buzzed and after a cautious glance in front of you. Good. No people. Taking out your phone, your eyes caught onto the notification bubble, but your phone couldn’t even unlock before your side slammed into someone’s shoulder.

“Shit.” You groaned, feeling your books slip from your hold. Ah, this was what that feeling was warning me about. The problem wasn't that you had dropped your things, it was the fact the culprit didn’t have the decency to stop and help or at the least apologize. You whipped your head around, locking onto the pure white hair already strolling away from the scene. Anger flooded to your veins and before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth.

“Thanks, Asshole.” Figuring, since he barely reacted to running into you, that he wouldn’t hear your remark. Regardless of how he picked up the sound, the guy had heard you, and you stared as he turned his head. He didn’t make a comment, but instead gave you a quick glance. Oddly enough, his eyes cut deeper than any insult could.

You hated to admit it, but his eyes were beautiful. A shade of blue that could make the sky jealous. They were enticing, but the spiteful gleam made you immediately tense up. Still, you held your ground, no matter how intimidating his look was. Before you knew it, he was already facing the front, bothered by nothing. Your teeth grinned together and picked yourself up off the floor. You’d be damned to look like a helpless fawn in front of these people.

In your heart, you told yourself to chase after him, scream and cuss, but you stayed calm. It was just another dick that believed he had some sort of untouchable god complex. It was useless to sit there and complain. After all, college is huge and you wouldn’t see that guy again.

As you walked to the front doors, your eyes remained straight forward. Paying no mind to the curious glances, you trudged forward to your first class.

𖤓

“-okay, it seems all of you are here.” Your professor started at the front of the room. Maybe it was bias, but you believed that Professor Yaga worked the hardest amongst the other teachers. You’ve had him since the beginning of your time here at college. He taught loads of subjects and you always seemed to shine throughout each,that’s why you were the so-called “favorite”.

“Today we’ll just be a go over of materials and lessons I will be teaching.” He explained, glancing back at the plain slide show he created.

Before Professor Yaga could say the first item, the doors in the back opened quickly. Everyone’s attention shifted as the commotion grew. You had to admit your curiosity got the better of you and you turned to watch who came in so late. Little did you know, you weren’t prepared for the storm about to swoop into the lecture hall.

It seemed almost fake like before you arrived the scene was choreographed. Two men waltzed in, neither of them showing guilt on their faces. The first one had very long hair; dark and it was put up in a claw clip. He gave half a smile, one that was supposed to be an apology, but his other friend did not share this gesture.

The friend raised a hand toward the professor, waving like he didn’t just interrupt him,”Hey, sorry the line at the coffee shop was super long.” You have to be kidding. Your mouth parted at the audacity, but Yaga only let out a disappointed sigh,”It's fine, just sit down.”

The room was packed but no one around you looked to be disturbed—or at the least shocked—their rude enterace. Was this common? No. Most people give a short ‘Sorry’ and skitter to their seat, but they just didn’t care. Your brow furrowed as they walked, showing no signs of picking up their speed. You scanned over there faces, making mental notes to stay away from both of them. Though, as you stared at the other male, your heart sank. Bright sapphire eyes locked onto your own and a wave of Deja vu hit you harshly.

It was the same guy who knocked into you without so much as a word. Your hand resting on the desk tensed into a fist. While in the middle of a staring contest, you expected him to throw you a cocky smirk, scoff, just something. You never guessed he would show you a look of genuine amusement. His lips turned upward and he winked at you. Did he even recognize you? You hadn’t interacted with the other guy, but he didn’t look any better.

These two were practically the stereotype for coming of age movie jock’s. Complete disdain grew in your chest as you watched them stroll down the lecture hall stairs. They dapped up their friends loudly, tossing sultry smiles toward the audience, and—ew did someone just squeal? Whoever they were, their egos shined too bright for your liking. Consider yourself uninterested.

You swiftly turned back around,but sadly the only available seats were the ones directly behind you. Their obnoxious chuckles grew slightly and you were pretty sure you heard the rude one mumble something to his friend. Whatever. Just pretend they aren’t there. It was easier said than done, since throughout the entire lesson their muffled conversation kept skimming past your ears and even as you tried paying attention, it seemed two sets of eyes were burning into the back of your skull.

if you would like to be added to the On Campus: Taglist, feel free to comment/ message me. I will send back a “🤎” once you’ve been added!

Taglist:

@inthedarkshadows000 @se-phi-roth @thattbitchwiththehair @kardi0n @loneworldgazer @geektastic84 @galactacium @love-me-satoru @stilldontknowwhatiamdoing

[ainnur]

we know you like celestialchaos (Wukong/Xiangliu) and divorced shadowpeach (where Macaque is the pathetic ex) but do you have any other LMK ships?

with or without Wukong, doesn’t matter

I DO!! Im a semi multishipper so I have few ships I like and some of them a pretty rare but I'll explain why I like them in simple way.

Start with my third favorite:

StableBoy (Ao Lie/Wukong)

To me this ship just a cute one. It match my hc that Ao Lie being the first person Wukong ever open up to after all the shit he been through because Wukong loves horses lol. And Ao lie is one of the persons that see Wukong grow to be better. I can see it as first ever heathy relationship Wukong ever have. Also Ao Lie the first person he ever truly trusted always listening to what he says. Ao Lie is Wukong's light.

OTHER SHIPS 👇🏼👇🏼

GoldenDragon (Mk/Mei)

Best friend to lover trope. They is two people that would say "If we single when we 27, we just marry each other" and the keep their dynamic. Plus they always be their for each other and match each other energy. They know each other the best and I like that about them. And when I first watched lmk I actually think they were dating or something lol. Im just like the silver and gold brother demon 🥲 sue me. If anything GoldenDragon is not parelle with Shadowpeach but StableBoy.

FreeNoddle (Tang/Pigsy)

Old married couple for the win✨ I just like how they lovingly fight with each other but comfort each other when needed.

LionPeach (Azure/Wukong)

This really giving love at first sight 😭I mean what is this. Look I like them because they cute. Azure admire Wukong and see him as great warrior, a bother, the King! Little bit too much its unhealthy. And Wukong have all his trust and having same gold as him and that is making the world a better place. But because his admiration, he blame Wukong for failing. For not achieving what he expect of Wukong to be. He also think what he doing is right. But even everything he never wanted to hurt anyone deep down and he made mistakes and redeemed himself with his life despite everything he loved his friends and they all loved him. Just look at Wukong when Azure die. And after everyting Wukong still care about him in a way.

Shadowpuppet (Not Mayor/Macaque)

Petty rival that somehow get together lol. I like them both being shitty to each other but cant leave each other side because they only have each other 🥲.

DestinyBone (Mayor/Lady Bone Demon)

One side love. Mayor do everything for LBD while her only focus on her destiny. Everything he do is for her but now she gone...he is nothing.

PuppetPeach (Wukong/Mayor)

Toxic yuri- okay look I have this idea for them with Mayor try to find someone else to serve after LBD is gone. At first Mayor dont like Wukong because you know, Wukong is the one make him realize that LBD never actually need him. But when fighting with Wukong he remember something. The warm that Wukong left him. It also cold when come to lbd and that how he like it but this warm feel strange to him. After some stalking he see Wukong as the leader, as the protector, as the hero and most importantly as a KING. Someone who deserve to be serve. I made a fanfic once about them HERE

StringDoll (Spider Queen/Lady Bone Demon)

✨Toxic Yuri for real ✨No explainition just them

IronBull (PIF/DBK)

Vilain power couple ✨. They may be a shit parents to Red Son but damn they're THAT couple. They just good with each other. I like how dbk defend PIF by saying that PIF can handle herself because she is a strong women but still worry about her because THAT his wife, he have right to be worry. And PIF? She loyal for him. 500 years finding way to free her husband from mountain. *Ehem* Take note Macaque *Ehem*. PIF would rush to her husband always. Just like when Azure attack DBK and his family, PIF quickly rush and jump infront of her husband wanting to protect him. I was like damn, you go girl ✨They either be good parents or good couple. They made their decision lol.

GoldenFeather (Peng/Wukong)

Okay I like this ship because my friend @starrclown make me ship theme with their cute fanfic. But I still have my own idea for them. I like them in 2 way

1)Peng having a casual crush on Wukong. Its never anything big. Peng just think Wukong is funny and chaotic. Peng love 'chaos' anyway and without it they think it be boring. Peng know that Wukong never actually like anyone and is fine by that. If Wukong like them back it be awasome but if Wukong dont Peng will be just find.

2) Peng have crush on Macaque😬. Hate crush but still crush. The thing is that Mac is a simp for Wukong and Peng just don't get it. He just don't get what so good about Wukong that got Macaque drolling like that. Peng being curious and also don't want seem as coward like Macaque ask Wukong for a "night" just to have the taste. Now he understand Macaque and wanting Wukong

Also Peng might be more important to Wukong consider he is one of first ink from Wukong scroll that show up and the first one to attack

This is OC x Canon:

ToxicPeach (Steve/Wukong)

Okay this is crack ship that me and my friend @halfdeadhalfpaniced made with random character we call Steve. But more time pass I kinda like the ship. Steve the wanna rockstar fall in love with the Monkey King himself. Wukong is questioning why he like that loser lol

[evendimmer]

Hey babe 😌 here to save you from your bored: What are your top 5 favourite Agatha fanfics?

Thank you love, for your ask and so kindly saving me from boredom.

When you say Agatha fanfics, I’m going to assume it’s any fanfic involving Agatha? Not just exclusively Agatha I hope because the list would be entirely different….

A few things you should know about me: I am a big sucker for Character x reader fics. There. I’ve said it. Call it self insert, self indulgence whatever you like but it is my guilty pleasure, and that’s the point of fanfics right? To enjoy and feel good?

Another thing is that I’m a huge consumer of smut. Pure shameless smut. Give it to me hot and filthy.

The last thing: I love Agatha and Rio equally. And you’ll see what I mean I in just a moment.

So if any of these things above aren’t for you, you can pretty much skip my whole list :’)

Anyway without further ado, here's my top 5 Agatha fanfics:

(Note: Click the titles below to start reading each fic)

5. Learning to Focus (w/ Part 2) by @covenofagatha

Pairing: GP!Professor!Agatha x Reader

"When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)"

I feel like I'm exposing myself with this one. There's something about cockwarming and being in control/losing control that makes this fic sooooooooooo fucking hot. The build-up and anticipation before getting absolutely destroy by none other than Professor Daddy Agatha? One of my go-to fics when I need to get uh sorted out.

3. Two Professors and a Student by @covenofagatha

Pairing: Professors!AgathaRio x Reader

"You run into your old professors Agatha and Rio at a bar, and will it lead to the start of something new?"

Yes I skipped a number. No it’s intentional, because the next two fics are TIED in third place.

Let’s be honest. Who hasn’t had a crush on their teacher or professor at least once in their school life? I did. More than once. This fic has it all - both Agatha and Rio as your ex-Professors (cuz school policies wink wink), getting down and dirty with you separately and together at the same time. Live out that college fantasy with this fic in the smuttiest way possible.

3. Neighbourly Care by @d-z20

Pairing: Milfs!AgathaRio x Reader

"You think the neighbours are MILFs and the evening is filled with flirting and then you get to be fucked by each of them and then by both of them."

What's better than a hot mommy? TWO married hot mommies that are both into you. Agatha and Rio taking care of you, with a little bit of friendly competition between them. As the author has stated, this fic is just "pure unadulterated smut" and nothing less. Best part? You're not the only brat or the only one getting punished ;)

2. Something Wicked by @motherconfessors

Pairing: Pre-Salem!Agatha x Rio

"While an apprentice witch, Agatha grows frustrated when she's not permitted to learn magic.

Until someone makes her an offer that she can't refuse."

This is the AgathaRio fic that I swear by, canon in my mind until we get actual explanation from season 2 if its happening. It explores the backstory of Agatha leading up to her Salem trials, and her meeting with a certain Green Witch™️. A fine balance between plot and smut. Great character depictions, superb lore building and filthy hot smut that hits just right.

1. Lights, Camera, Magic by @lunargrrrl

Pairing: Director!Agatha x Reader

"Agatha Harkness sits in the director's chair of some of your favourite movies. Your world suddenly turns upside down when you're invited to audition for her latest screenplay, 'Witching Hour'."

This one is a no brainer. My newest obsession. Ongoing smutty fic with 41 chapters now. Author is so good at building tension like it's not even funny anymore at this point it HURTS (just right though). Yes there is angst but there's also fluff and A LOT OF HOT FILTHY PURE SMUT. Tens of thousands words worth of smut. Like I've mentioned before, every chapter has a song to go with it and author has ✨excellent✨ taste in music.

oops looks like I went off again. But there you go, if you haven't read them already please give these fics a try. I promise you they are sooooo worth it.

I feel so exposed now I need a new account and a new life

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤] Star-Lord x Reader

Summary: You're sent on a mission to another planet and catch the attention of your ally. This takes place in the Marvel Rivals Universe; this Star-Lord might vary from the MCU!

warnings: brief 'love interest protects you from a creep' trope, canon-typical violence in the beginning, chronic use of (Y/N) in this bad boy

Your vision is clouded by thick smoke as buildings come crashing down around you. In this war-torn city, there's nothing to count on but your instincts, your weapons-

"Woo-hoo! Two points for the Star-Lord!"

Oh, and your idiot ally who's somersaulting through the air. The two of you and four others were called here on a mission to transport something to somewhere; frankly, neither of you read the brief, but it doesn't seem like you needed to.

Your new friend, Star-Lord you think you heard him say, lands right in front you. With the area quiet and the haze finally dissipating, you both lower your weapons and check your surroundings. Though it's out of sight and being watched over by the rest of your team, you're sure the objective has just about reached its destination. You watch as he removes his mask to say something, and he's so pretty you almost miss the enemy movement coming from behind him.

"Hah! did you see tha-"

"Duck."

"Goose?" you groan and shove him to the floor for his protection as you raise your gun, knocking out the Psylocke who was racing to get you when your defenses were low.

"Ohh, Nice one! She's so quiet!" He cheers you on from the ground as you extend your hand to help him up. Just as you let go of him, you hear Captain America shouting your names from a few streets over.

Once you're all grouped up, you're notified there's been no known casualties on either side and that the mission was a success. With that, you're all free to go, and you want nothing more than a peaceful, quiet walk on the way to the hotel you've booked for the night. With all this multiverse bullshit going on, it's been over a month since you were given approval to head back to Earth where you belonged. Travelling the universe has been exciting and all, but you can't help but miss home; the closest you've been able to find to it is a room for one built in a style you could maybe find somewhere on your planet.

"Hey! You!" you hear the sputtering of fuel behind you followed by a thump as your friendly pursuer lands as gracefully as he can beside you, "I never got your hero name!" Maybe this walk won't be as peaceful as you hoped.

You've seen him around before during missions, and he's even tried speaking to you a couple times, but you've just been so inside your head lately you've shut out just about everyone. As annoying as he might be, part of you is glad he's not the type to give up.

"I don't have one. (Y/N) is fine." You look up at him and catch the most upset look he could muster.

"(Y/N)? Fine normal name, I guess. But that can't be your hero name! I saw you out there, you were awesome!" You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and his smile widens even more, "Tell you what, I'll come up with one for you."

Your giggle grows into a laugh, "Absolutely not, Star-Lord."

"What's wrong with Star-Lord? It's badass!" You want to say what you really think, that his name is both bad and ass, but it'd feel like kicking a friendly dog, so you swallow your jab.

"I guess it's a hero-name of some kind, which might be better than nothing." You humour him.

"So you'll let me pick?"

"I'll let you come up with ideas."

He proceeds to spitball the worst names you have ever heard in your entire life, which eventually spiral into any noun he can think of followed by 'lord'. You can tell that at a certain point he stopped trying and is just trying to make you laugh, but that doesn't mean it's not working.

"Gun-Lord?"

"Be- Because you saw me with a gun?" You can barely contain your giggles enough to answer.

"Too on the nose, huh?" He grins down at you, but you don't catch the adoration in his eyes.

Eventually you calm yourself down, "These suggestions have been so helpful, don't get me wrong, but I don't think we've found the winner quite yet."

"Give me a bit, maybe I'll come back tomorrow with some more heavy-hitters. We'll get you that name eventually. Where are we headed, by the way?" He looks around and notices you've reached the untouched part of the city, though the citizens are still, understandably, in a bit of a panic.

"I'm headed to my hotel. Where are you staying?"

"Pff, lame. I stay in a ship with my crew, you can stay there if you want!"

"Your... crew?"

"You haven't heard of us? The Guardians of the Galaxy?"

"Uhh, I might've heard that cute armed raccoon mention something like that? You know him?"

He laughs, "Don't call him that in front of him, he's a bit feral. But yeah, He works with me. So does Mantis and Groot."

"Weird crew you've got going on."

"You'd fit right in!" You can tell he definitely didn't mean it as an insult, "I'd have to get to know you a little better, but I think we could use someone like you, you know." You laugh again, but this time it's in disbelief. He can't be serious.

"I... I kind of have a life on Earth, I think. As tempting as it is to fuck off into space and do... space things together. I don't even know your name."

"I prefer Star-Lord, but Peter works too. And I think you're underestimating how cool the space things are. Come on, you're curious aren't you? Let me show you my ship."

You pause for a moment and think it over. You'd never join his crew, but there's just something about him that makes the thought of seeing him again so exciting. You wonder if other people find him so charming or just paint him as egotistical.

"Sure. Yeah. Meet me sometime tomorrow, maybe?"

"Your hotel, 10:00 AM?"

"Done."

You spend the rest of the walk talking mostly about Peter. You love asking the questions and he loves answering even more. You learn about his life in space, that he's not totally human like you thought, and you even get into discussing music by the time you've reached the lobby.

"I guess that's it for today." You try to hide your disappointment as both stand a few feet form the front desk—you already know him well enough to sense he doesn't need more of an ego boost.

"Yeah. It was great running into you, you kicked ass on the field."

"You too," you look up at him but suddenly have the urge to avoid eye contact, "Thanks for walking me back."

"Anytime."

***

Your night at the hotel felt longer than usual and you couldn't quite make out why. Maybe the room just wasn't as comforting as it looked in the pictures. Maybe you didn't get as much sleep as you wanted because you were too excited to see this spaceship you've heard so much about. Whatever the case, 10:00AM couldn't come fast enough, and by 9:30, you were already sitting in the hotel lobby, your leg bouncing with excitement. You feverishly check your watch and sneak glances out the tall, sunlit windows hoping you'd see your talkative new friend. 'Relax. You're never this antsy over a man,' You try to tell yourself. You sigh and close your eyes to ground yourself a little more.

"Stood up?" A gravelly, unfamiliar voice asks you.

"Huh?" Your eyes shoot open and dart towards the stranger in front of you. He's older, lean, and a bit too close for comfort. You stand up and take a step back. He takes a step forward.

"I asked if you got stood up. A pretty lady like you shouldn't be all alone." You can smell the alcohol; he's probably from the hotel bar. 'This early? Gross.'

"No, I'm just a bit early. Thanks for your concern, but you can head back to the bar."

"You should join me. You'd have more fun with my buddies and I." You're not sure if you should knock his lights out now or try to get someone's attention; you absolutely hate making a scene, and you can't tell what would cause less of a disturbance to the otherwise empty lobby.

"This guy bothering you?" You feel a hand on your waist, and you hate to admit it, but it provides a sense of comfort. You fight your instinct to roll your eyes—of course he of all people would love to save the damsel in distress; he's probably practiced that line in the mirror.

Nevertheless, you lean into him to sell your relationship a bit more, "I think we're fine. He was just leaving."

The creep goes pale; Peter is large. Even when drunk, he knows there's no way in hell he was going to beat him in a fight.

"Uhh. That's right. Have a great day, you two." He stumbles back towards wherever he came from, and you quickly turn to face your saviour.

"My hero." Sarcasm drips from your voice, "Thank you for saving me, Star-Lord." You roll your eyes and everything, but after saying hero, nothing else could penetrate his skull.

He smiles widely and his face tints red at the use of his name, clearly oblivious to your mockery, "No problem! It's expected of a Guardian like me." You can't help but laugh; He's just so dumb.

On the way out of the lobby, you quickly check your watch—‘9:43; he’s early, too.’ You smile to yourself, trying to keep it subtle.

You sharply inhale the strange, almost Earth-like air as he leads you in the direction of the aircraft dock near the edge of the city.

"It's still strange to me that ship docks even exist," You try to break the silence, "We've never had a need on Earth."

"Yeah, it's mostly a No-Fly zone for the other planets. Doesn't help that there's not much there anyway."

"Earth has a lot of problems, but it's not bad, I think. Maybe you should visit sometime. I've only just left and I'm already pretty homesick." It's only a half-truth; You've felt this way since you've left your family for S.H.I.E.L.D—it's a lonely life, being a hero.

"... Maybe. I don't know. My home's on that ship now. I'm not even sure what family I've got left there on Terra." You can tell he's got mixed feelings about his life back on Earth. You know better than to pry.

You only notice now that his hand is still on your waist from the lobby once he sighs and tightens his grip around you a little. You're farther from Earth than you've ever been, but you notice that the closer you are to Peter, the less you feel that pit in your stomach telling you to come home.

***

"Who the flark is this?" You separate from Peter only to use him as a shield from the talking raccoon,

"Uh, we've been on missions together before? I'm the gun girl?" you squeak out from behind him. You wanted to make a good impression, but it's a little hard to do when you're the only one on the ship with manners.

He squints, "... Widow?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh." He completely loses interest in you and goes back to working on whatever death machine he's tinkering with. You're not sure whether to be relieved or take offence.

"Yeah, that's Rocket. He's a real sweetheart." Peter takes to holding your hand as he guides you through the ship, meeting the rest of his crew one by one. It's an interesting group on a near dysfunctional aircraft, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see the appeal.

Eventually, Peter leads you to the cockpit. Your eyes widen as you step towards the control panel.

"You can actually fly this thing?" You ask in awe, with one hand still holding his and the other tracing over the dashboard. You don't need to look at him to hear the smugness in his voice,

"Yup. Pretty cool, right? We'd have to get a seat added for you if you stay with us long enough, but it shouldn't take long to install."

"And where would I sleep if I were to ditch my hotel like you mentioned?" Again, you're definitely not considering joining his crew. You just want out of that hotel and you have a healthy curiosity.

"Uh... There's always my room?" Your head jolts to Peter who's shooting you his best flirtatious grin. It's goofy.

You giggle, "Only if you're fine with sleeping on the floor." Truth be told, staying with him does sound a lot better than a dingy hotel with a lobby that serves alcohol at 9:00AM. But you're not the type to sleep with someone you've only just met, even if you really want to, and even if it's only in the literal sense. Besides, you like Peter, but it’s hard to know just how many cute girls received the same treatment before you.

"Fair enough," He sighs, "There's a spare bedroom that's all yours if you want it."

"I might just take you up on it. Did you know S.H.I.E.L.D isn't even covering my room costs? total bullshit." You tactically leave out that you can more than afford it and you just want to spend more time with him (and maybe Mantis, who seemed absolutely lovely).

"Sounds good, we'll both be here for a couple weeks anyway until we're given the go-ahead to... what was it? 'Fuck off and do space things?'"

"That's right."

"Right. So yeah, My ship is your ship or whatever. But not really." You giggle and note the possessiveness he has over the Milano, "Welcome aboard... Earth-Woman?"

"Absolutely not."

This time it's his turn to laugh, "The next one is gonna be killer though, Trust me."

You smile at him before gently squeezing his hand then letting go to fully face the cockpits windows. You can only imagine the stars and planets this ship has seen, captained by someone who, in your eyes, might be even prettier than the galaxy itself. Not that you'd ever say that to his face, of course.

***

As you tuck yourself into the spare bedroom you had to spend the day cleaning out (it was unknowingly used as a storage room for Rocket's stolen garbage), you notice that your typical sense of loneliness and dread is nowhere to be found. That homesickness you've been carrying for much longer than you'd left Earth has vanished completely, and you can't help but think it might have something to do with that handsome, snoring idiot who's in the room across from yours.

Notes: -2303 words -i'd love to make a sequel but its heavily dependent on how this first part performs! (that means you should like or reblog if u liked this ;)), without a part two this ones cute but on the underwhelming side imho -could be heavily out of character, I'm going almost exclusively off his voice lines in the game! feel free to shoot an ask recommending changes to the shot :) -nothing else to say, i love him so much <3

[handdrawnfantasma]

i will always find you, like it's written in the stars we can run but we can't hide

aka i've been chatting with a dear friend about a jayvik Transistor AU for the better part of a month and then at the start of this week i was seized with the thought of: what's better than one Supergiant games AU? four of them, obviously. and then i spent all my free time this week working on this, while also incessantly swapping ideas with this same dear friend about all these AUs

me yapping (SO MUCH YAPPING) about design thoughts and also the ins and outs of the AUs under the cut

bastion: this is actually the one where i have the least idea of what is going on outside of Jayce being caelondian and Viktor being ura (Viktor probably hews pretty close to Zulf here lbr) but like i couldn't not do a bastion AU (the themes!!) and also this was mostly a very indulgent nostalgia trip and an excuse to study the art style for hours. i love bastion's art style it's so incongruously cutesy for a game about the Regretsy(tm) of being part of the cycle of violence that ended up destroying the world and dealing so badly with it that you keep rewinding things back instead of moving forward

transistor: transistor AU my beloved <3 Jayce is inside the transistor! there is no reason for the transistor's "eye" to have his eye colour rather than being red except that i like how it looks and also the visual indicator of him being in there. yes the blue jacket V is wearing belonged to Jayce, it's blue because it's this AU's blanket analogue and also because i have strong feelings about freeing Jayce from being paraded around in white for PR reasons all the time. Jayce and Viktor were still a pair of inventors here but since Cloudbank's societal ills seem to trend less towards life-or-death issues and more towards stuff like its increasing homogenisation and those with "meritless viewpoints" being under-represented due to the way the voting system works, part of what they ended up working on was something that flew extremely close to the Process, ie: small-scale preservation of things and environments that the voting cycle would otherwise push out of existence (community spaces! support spaces! that one square where you have cherished memories!), creating tiny pocket spaces for people to keep these places alive. this ends up drawing the attention of both the Administrators and the Camerata (which in this AU consists of Singed, Ambessa, Caitlyn, Mel, and Salo, all of whom have their own motives for being part of the conspiracy and none of whom actually fully see eye-to-eye) and after the Camerata try not once but twice to recruit them both, Ambessa is the one who loses patience and attempts to integrate them both into the transistor by force while they're setting things up for an exhibition of their latest project. Viktor not only lost his voice during the attack but also dropped his cane at the same time and the whole "transported half-way across the city" thing plus the "Jayce's trace is inside the thing that murdered him and so letting it go is absolutely out of the question" thing means he's using it as a horribly ill-suited makeshift mobility aid in between frantically optimising the fuck out of the configuration of its functions so he can survive the Process. the lads end up figuring out more of what the transistor actually is and does and its connection to/control over the Process than Red and Mr. Nobody do because they're still genius scientists who are treating figuring this out like their latest crunch project but. things are still Not Gonna End Well. for now the only other thing i will mention (very important) is that the fetch type processes are salamanders here so Rio is the friendly process you find in the sandbox area

pyre: Jayce has been in the Downside for long enough to have undergone the transformation into a demon! he can read (although this isn't exactly the thing that got him exiled it was definitely a part of it. doing mad science was absolutely still the thing that got him exiled, it being discovered that he could read was just the final nail in the coffin) but he can't participate in the Rites as the Nightwings' representative in the demon mask and be their Reader at the same time. meanwhile Viktor is only recently arrived in the Downside, having got himself exiled not for reading, but because he refused to design/create weapons to help the Commonwealth's war effort against the Highwing Remnant, and ends up becoming the Reader for the Nightwings. i am inevitably going to end up drawing the other Nightwings for this AU because i am in love with the line-up we decided on (Mel is the leader of the conspiracy/mastermind behind the Plan and i am NOT passing up on the opportunity to draw stunning beautiful gorgeous tree lady Sap!Mel). the most fun thing to think about for this AU is the fact that once it comes out that only those who participate in the Rites are eligible for freedom from the Downside (and therefore Viktor, with his leg, doesn't even have a chance for it). Jayce would just flat-out Refuse to be the one anointed for a Liberation Rite. fully just there like if you pick me to be sent back i Will throw the match. no i actually don't care about how this affects the Plan and how many people you think i will be able to win over, i'm not going back if viktor can't. the scribes shoulda come up with better rites ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ [ insert frustrated Mel Medarda noises here ]

hades: they fit all-too-easily into the mould of "pair of separated lovers that the PC has the option of working to bring together again during repeated runs" and so that is what they are here <3. while they were alive they were a pair of extremely talented artisans/inventors and we have decided that they made a lot of progress in the areas of like. heating and warm water (a mutual loathing of winter and desire to improve lives will do that to a mf) but eventually they turned their sights to more abstract pursuits and are the ones who invented the soul cage, originally envisioning it as something to temporarily house the soul in order to examine it/gain a better understanding of it. then war broke out where they were living and where war goes, plague follows... so yea Viktor got sick and died and Jayce did as Jayce does and used their invention to keep his soul in the living world, which like, effectively kept him alive!! unfortunately the unforeseen side-effect of keeping Viktor's soul inside the soul cage was that nobody else in the area stayed dead either. this naturally drew the attention and ire of the gods (with the exception of Hermes who saw the Situation, saw that the ancient Greek undead epidemic was not the intention here, and covered for them to try and buy them time to fix it) and eventually in desperation they had to turn to Hecate who put an enchantment on the soul cage that seals it. this does a really good job at keeping the "accidental undead plague" effect sealed but it also means that Viktor's shade can't enter the Underworld, effectively dooming him to wander the Surface. meanwhile when Jayce dies his shade gets stuck in solitary confinement ironic punishment hell in Tarturus for the hubris of cheating death, perverting nature and defying the edicts of the Fates, and it's only when Chronus usurps the House of Hades that he is able to break out in the confusion and spend years trying to (so far extremely unsuccessfully) fight his way back to the Surface and get back to Viktor. so like, envisioning them both here as NPCs that Melinoe would encounter during Hades 2, with Viktor being an NPC you can encounter in Ephyra on surface runs who gives enemies debuffs for the remainder of the run (framed as sharing information with you about what's ahead), and Jayce being a roaming NPC you can encounter during Underworld runs who can give your equipment REALLY good upgrades for the remainder of your run at the cost of disabling one or more of your godly Boons, because the gods truly hate This Fucking Blacksmith and while they can't rob him of his skill, everything he makes is loathsome to them now (this is why his hammer looks all janked up and corrupted like that lmao). mostly i was just ecstatic to have an excuse to use their shared butterfly motif on the hammer and also on the lamp on Viktor's staff that contains his soul, thank you ancient Hellenic culture for your butterfly soul symbolism <3

[running-with-kn1ves]

How about a nsfw yandere cannibal butcher x fem reader? Absolute unit of a man that has a feederism kink and likes to have her cockwarming him (with occasional thrusts) while she is forced to eat his human meals. He likes groping her thighs, breasts, and belly envisioning her weight gain because of him. He's cooing, telling her she's finally eating some good quality food.

A/N: I have been wanting to write this for SO LONG, I hope I did it justice, I think there’s a specific niche for this kind of story but I enjoyed writing it out~

Synopsis: Anon pretty much said it all

CW: NSFW, NON-CON, dead dove do not eat, AFAB Reader, yandere themes, cannibalism (reader consumption), feederism, penetration, groping, objectification

The hazy brown-orange glow of the moon, so far away and yet bigger than you had ever seen it in your hometown, to the old radio humming across from you-- it all was a meaningless distraction away from the sinewy fiber between your teeth. Focusing on anything other than the chewing was better; your eyes searched for cracks between the old renovated farmhouse across from its grandfather clock, running down to the unlit fireplace. The seasonings on your tongue reminded you of herby chicken, maybe something you’d end up cooking and partly burning at your cruddy old apartment. An apartment hundreds of miles away from here. The man beneath you seemed to hum along to the radio, your body sitting atop his as he leaned back in a wooden chair, watching you from behind. 

Another finger-full of meat came up to your lips, pressing against them and waiting for them to open once you finished swallowing. You tried to eat it as quickly as possible, faster than he could put the next chunk up to your mouth, but you always failed. 

“In we go,” He mumbles, a slight groan following as something beneath you twitches. 

You nearly gag as you open your mouth again, the meat resting in between teeth and at the back of your throat as you have yet to finish swallowing. 

It almost reminds you of the barbeque you had at your friend’s bachelorette party, which seemed ages ago. Why she picked to have her wedding hours away from where you two grew up, you didn’t know. Maybe if she had chosen somewhere closer to home, you wouldn’t be where you are now, trying to numb your taste buds and the sensation of a thickness your panty-less self was swallowing from below. 

“Right there..” He sighs, watching you chew, your cheeks puffing out just slightly from how much food he kept shoving for you to accept. 

You wished he would give you a bite of something else, at least a bite of peas or a sip of ice tea to drown out the flavor of something… wrong. Even if it showed resemblances of familiarity in flavor, you knew it wasn’t something you had ever tasted before; something you would have thrown up at the thought of if it weren’t for your survival depending on its consumption. Maybe if you hadn’t seen the chopped forearm in the fridge, the blood trailing to the basement, you'd have an easier time pretending.

He rocked just slightly inside you, enjoying the way your thighs squished against his, how when he thrusted just slightly up, the bottom of the table stopped you from going anywhere-- a wonderful source of friction. 

“You’re going to get so pretty; not like you aren’t pretty already, of course… but with me cooking for you… oh baby.” He seemed to stutter, unusually so from how careful he was when he usually spoke; but the grip of your inner cunt’s walls squeezing around him in almost everything but pleasure, it took him to a different place. “I won’t stop until you’re full. And even then.. Well, we need to make sure you’re nice and healthy, all soft with never a moment where you’re hungry. Isn’t that right?” 

He seemed almost breathless as he asked, a warm hand snaking up your T-shirt.

 He loved to rub the flesh of your stomach, from below your navel at the roundness of your belly, nearly reaching to the depths of where he was comfortably pushed inside, to the top of your abdomen where your skin grew smooth and the round bottoms of your breasts rested, heaving with each shuddered breath. 

You nodded compliantly, taking the excuse of a full mouth from having to respond verbally as he had expected you to do so. You hated the stuttering nod of your head, the obediency-- but you were well versed with the potential consequences.  

He leaned his chin on your shoulder, sucking through his teeth as you minutely adjusted on top of him, your thighs forcibly spread and squeezing against his. Your ankles could have wrapped around his own if you had dared to do so; but you were afraid of touching him anywhere you didn’t have to. He was a bulging creature, arms large and taut from years of slinging butcher knives and de-gutting anything that was once alive. Maybe if you were with anyone else, you would’ve appreciated the touch of a strong man, stroking you and holding you so close you felt like there was a warm safety net surrounding you. 

His hand, far too warm and calloused, rested against your chest as his other grabbed one of your thighs. He readjusted you on top of him by lifting up your upper thigh, thrusting just a teensy bit to tease you-- only to lower you at a painfully slow pace. His hot breath hit the back of your neck, released from a long sigh and a groan between his teeth. It wasn’t nearly as slow as the first time he entered you, only preparing you with slow curls of his index and middle finger, barely wettening you enough to take him. 

This time, he had aroused himself enough and hit your sensitive, begrudgingly lustful walls to make a smooth entrance, one that made you clench your eyes shut and swallow so hard you coughed. It felt so deep, now that your tailbone was angled backward, the butcher leaning up to completely indulge himself inside of you. You couldn't help but clench, all the way up to your fists at the new stretch. 

He patted your back as you continued to cough, your throat hoarse from layers of dryness. 

“You’re okay baby, cough it up,” Pulling you toward him he rested your back against his brick aproned chest, using his free hand to grab the tall glass resting on the table. “Take a drink, nice and slow.”

 With its pretty little plastic blue straw, he put the glass up to your mouth. You drank as much as you could, grateful for the mere seconds you got to stop eating. 

It wasn’t until you let go of the straw with a great inhale did you feel the warmth cradling your breast, smoothing its underside with wide fingers and running a thumb over your nipple. He teased it, just enough with the scratchy fabric of his T-shirt he made you wear, causing it to perk up and bring goosebumps to your skin. 

You would have stayed as far off of him as possible if it weren’t for that hand cradling at your breast to lock you against him, his other putting down the glass only to go right back to your naked hip, running over the wrinkles in your flesh and squeezing gently at the muscle of your thigh. 

“Need a break, hm?” He looked at you from behind, nearly putting his cheek to yours as he came close to your ear. “That’s okay, we can enjoy each other’s company for a moment.” 

You pretended to cough again, hoping he wouldn’t try to get you to speak. His hands did enough talking for the both of you. 

You didn’t know how anyone could stay this hard during the entirety of your long, long meal, and yet he was still a warm rock inside of you, twitching and enjoying the uncomfortable little movements you did to get adjusted. But most of all, he liked to watch you take a piece of meat from his fingers, to have your tongue just slightly lick at his index finger as you graciously accepted it. It was as if he could envision it becoming a part of you already, your body growing pliant and soft and willful for him to meld to his whims, for him to grope and caress as roughly or as soft as he desired. 

He would never hurt you though; not unless you needed to be put in your place. And even then, he’d make sure your beautiful body was intact and your willingness towards him ever pliable; still as malleable as he could control. He needed to take care of you, to fix the damage the outside world had caused.

“I’m sure it feels good to eat some real food, hm? Not that garbage they were feeding you at that poor excuse of an event…” The butcher inhaled at the nape of your neck, enjoying the way you perspired from the hot summer night and panic that dominated your body. “It’s hard to come by, you know. Not everyone is as lucky as you are, getting treated like a princess and fed by my hand; all of that preservative trash you’ve had to eat will be replaced with some real, quality, grade A meat. Isn’t that right?”

He waited for your answer, pressing his forehead into your hair and inhaling above your ear.

“...Yes.” You whispered, so faint that he might not have caught it if he weren’t so close. 

“Mhm…That’s right.”

Your compliancy, the illusion of your willingness and ‘equal desire’ drove him mad. The butcher put a knuckle to your chin, turning your despondent face toward him, ready to be consumed. He kissed you sloppily, a needy tongue making its way to explore your mouth and taste you; He wanted a part of him inside you, and you within him-- he would never feel satisfied otherwise. The wet echoes of his kisses to your slack jaw resounded around the living room, a place that made you feel transferred back in time, completely out of your element. 

You were just a stuffed doll, limp and holding on to the possibility that your disappearance would be noticed eventually, for someone to realize you hadn’t gotten home after your friend’s wedding ceremony, that you were nowhere to be found. With each passing second, that hope seemed to diminish. 

The butcher gave a lasting open-mouthed kiss to taste the saltiness of your neck, resting his lips against it as he scoured your half-eaten plate again. He picked up a slivered piece of cooked meat, large enough that you wouldn’t be able to finish it in one bite. 

“You won’t ever understand how long I’ve waited so long for you, to find you and fill you up like this.”

He slipped a piece of what you had given up on convincing yourself was chicken in between your hesitant lips, letting his thumb rest against your tongue. Your mouth was so full, you had a hard time chewing, but the butcher didn’t care; he pressed the meat further down your throat, enjoying the texture of saliva and teeth on his fingers. 

The electric current of watching your salacious figure, the image of you obeying what he desired-- it ran through him, making him groan at the arousal, running down to his cock pulsing inside of you. It nudged at your G-spot, as if it were actively seeking out your sensitivity with each stuttered thrust upward he made against you.

But you thanked your stars that he was beginning to pant, so transparently getting closer to his finale and would soon be done with you-- at least, you hoped. 

“Just getting to see you sit here and eat…My fucking soulmate, my darling…hah... It makes waiting to finish all the more worth it--!”

[hihomeghere]

Prompt 53 and 45 with javier?

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings/tags : Cursing, angst, happy ending

Prompt: "You heard me. Take. It. Off.” "Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

Divider by @saradika

I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, so y’all get it a day early

Sean was back, which was cause for celebration. Everyone’s spirits were high, if not by the great news then by the copious amounts of alcohol that were flowing through camp. A slight chill blew through camp as the sun descended past the horizon. You could hardly feel it, your cheeks flushed from the beer you had gleefully partaken in. 

It felt good, having something to celebrate after all the damn hardship you’d been dealing with. The mess that happened back in Blackwater, on the run from the law and Pinkertons alike. Even if what you were celebrating was the return of a foul-mouthed Irish man, instead of some prodigal son. Although if you asked Dutch, they were one in the same. The evening had been going so well you had almost forgotten about Javier. Almost. But that infectious melody from his guitar strings had managed to wind its way over to where you were sitting. You could even hear it over Dutch’s gramophone. His voice carried through camp, as he spoke words you couldn’t quite understand, but ones that you could feel. Ones that made your heart clench painfully in your chest. 

You tried to better your mood, uncapping another bottle as you watched Karen and Sean. A small smile tugged at your lips, you were happy for her, truly. Even if she cursed his name half the time, you could see how much she loved the man. And he seemed to be pretty smitten with her, too. Told half the camp in too much detail about how he felt for her, well what he’d do to her. 

A bitter feeling started to settle in your belly as you took another swig, your own romantic predicament weighing heavily on your mind. 

Javier.

You huffed, pushing yourself off the crate you were sitting on. Perhaps you just had to get closer to the gramophone to fully block out his voice. You plopped yourself down on the grass in front of Dutch’s tent. Nursing your beer as Dutch spun Molly around.

“Lookin’ a little down there miss.” Arthur’s voice rang out, an easy smile on his lips. “Up we go” He said, holding out his hand for you to take. You sighed, letting him pull you to your feet. “Reckon you’ve had about enough of this.” He said, gently taking the bottle out of your grasp. 

“Arthur.” You huffed, shooting him your best glare. 

“Excuse me.” He chuckled, holding up a hand in surrender. “Would a dance make it up to ya?” He asked. You hummed, pretending to mull it over.

“Alright, fine. But only because you look so terribly lonely.” You said, your words relating to your own situation rather than his.

“Unfortunately miss, that is too true.” He said with a small chuckle, spinning you around in a small circle. 

“Why ain’t you dancing with someone you like?” You asked, your hand returning to his shoulder.

“I like you, now don’t I?” He said with a small pout.

“You know what I mean.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Well I could ask you the same question.” He said with an amused huff.

“I don’t like anyone in camp.” You huffed, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all. Arthur had a way of drawing the truth out of you, too much like Hosea in that regard.

“You and Javier still hung up on that little quarrel?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Life’s too short.” He shook his head, “One of you's got to be the bigger person here. Don’t let something as stupid as pride keep ya from each other.” You pursed your lips, avoiding his eyes as you danced. You knew he was right, you still loved Javier, even if he was a bastard sometimes. 

“You outta be wearin’ a coat, don’t need ya getting sick.” He sighed, pulling away from you to shrug off his jacket. He placed it around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Think we got ourselves an audience.” He mummured into your ear, your eyes flicked upwards. You hadn’t noticed a certain guitar had stopped playing. You caught Javier’s piercing gaze, his lips pulled down in a frown. Arthur kissed your forehead before pulling away, and you swore you saw fire dance in his dark eyes. You tore your eyes away from him, walking towards the Pearsons wagon. You had to get something in your belly before the night was over, or you knew you’d regret it in the morning. But with the amount of butterflies currently swarming in your stomach, eating was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Take it off.” You jumped, turning to find Javier standing a few feet from you. His arms crossed over his chest as he glared at you.

“Pardon me?” You asked, furrowing your brows as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” His tone was indisputable, his dark eyes shooting straight through you. You had once upon a time loved that they seemed to see through you, able to pull you apart at the seams. Now you just wished he’d look away. 

“The hell are you talking about?” You huffed, crossing your arms. 

“La chaqueta- the jacket.” He huffed, throwing his hand up. Irritation laced in his tone. You wrinkled your nose, looking down at yourself. Why did he want you to take it off so bad? “So Arthur’s your new lover, hm?” He growled, his eyes narrowing.

“My new lover?-“ You scoffed, shaking your head, “Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

“It seems pretty clear to me.” He huffed, motioning to his coat. 

“Oh lord, it was cold! It is cold. He was being a gentleman.” You threw up your hands, rolling your eyes. The two of you glared at each other, the air thickening as though a lightning storm was brewing. You gave in, shrugging off Arthur’s coat. “There, happy?” You asked, folding his coat under your arm. His lip twitched, but he didn’t say anything. “Unbelievable.” You muttered, pushing past him. His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. 

“If you were cold you should have come to me.” He huffed.

“And why’s that?” You snapped, “You made it clear there was nothing between us.”

“There is everything between us!” He said, tightening his grip on your wrist. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you couldn’t escape from the conversation. “Everything. You have crawled under my skin, where I go- you go. Stealing my heart away like a damn thief in the night.” He was rambling, the words spilling front his lips like water from a font. “I wake and my first thought is of you. I cannot eat, drink, rest, without thinking of you. So do not tell me there is nothing between us.” His chest was heaving with each breath, his eyes wild as he stared at you. 

You threw yourself forward, crashing your lips against his. His facial hair tickled your lip, your hands grasping his face as you pulled him closer. He wasted no time in reciprocating your actions, his hands gripped your waist, holding you tightly against him. You only parted for air, panting as you pressed your forehead against his. 

“You are a foolish man.” You whispered breathlessly, looking up into his mocha eyes.

“For you? Always.”

[abubblingcandle]

⭐ for the director’s cut thing. Anything slow horses you’ve wanted to talk about and/or share?

Thank you my lovely!! All these asks have been brill to keep me writing these past couple of days :)

⭐- Send a star and I'll talk about a WIP

Fleuve

So this one is chugging along nicely with Chapter 1 and 2 making good progress and the fic all planned out! For those of you who don't know, this is my more lighter Les Arbres River fic where the Slow Horses (S3 version) have been sent by David Cartwright to retrieve an asset from France. River is in over his head and gets himself kidnapped by idiots who think he is MI5.

So yeah originally I was going to have them start the road trip with River playing along but then thought "well River that would make River look far too confident and be less ... well ... River" so instead I've just changed it that he accidentally reveals himself in Ch1 but then it begins a complicated comedy of errors because the Slow Horses have to get him back to London and like everyone is trying to stop them, including River himself for a while.

Here's a little bit from Ch1

“You lot better have your passports in date. We’ve got an op.” Louisa startled as Lamb yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “An op?” “An international op?” “Jackson, what on earth?” The ripple of confusion washed through the occupants of Slough House and Lousia was with them on that. She didn’t want to die at Slough House but had pretty much accepted her fate that she was here until The Park deemed her penance complete or she quit. Dreaming of the slow horses being given an op to prove herself on was setting herself up for failure. She had assumed that Roddy was lying or that Lamb had lied to Roddy but no, the slow horses had an op. “Brief in Ho’s room!” Everyone was downstairs the quickest that they had ever been. “An op? Us? The Slow Horses,” Shirley stammered, sliding in through the doors. “No, it’s for the Dogs of course it’s for fucking us or I wouldn’t be telling you shit stains about it,” Lamb huffed, gesturing to the screen. Roddy pulled up a map and a name. “The job is to go to this town,” Lamb jabbed his finger at the screen, “and retrieve an undercover. He’s going by Lance Young which is an old MI5 cold body alias. Hasn’t been used in any open ops since its creation.”

[ai-art-thieves]

I've updated the above long after some people reblogged the "Smells like a bot" version.

And here I am, once again, updating the case with new info.

For clarification, spongebobsssquarepants and deejay are plants for lavenderconstellation.store (now known as uniquerandomparadise).

I can safely confirm that those two, along with many, many, many other plants of that site, could also be bots.

deejay especially.

I tried my damnest to locate an original post, but all I could find was a bunch of reblogs. So many reblogs.

And her icon isn't even her.

It was an image of the actress Cristin Milioti.

So we have a plant reblogging a plant that reblogged.... a very mentally unwell man. Speaking of...

This leaves us with the man of the hour, "stopharassingme".

Aka..... jesus christ there's a lot of names...

idealog, sweetiguessso, judahmaccabees, whenheskissinyou, abm000, whenheskissinyou, novjerusalem, tejuti, kazpar, ortael, and frmag.

He does have another name, but I have a feeling that he doesn't want to be called by his former name.

(Also, despite this man posting his face, real name, and/or location, I am going to refrain from doing so because I do not want a bunch of people harassing a man that could very well be in a very bad place mentally. I might be a cop, but I am not an asshole.)

For simplicity's sake, we will call him by the name that he gave himself: "Jesus".

If any of those names are familiar to some of you, he was notable for reblogging stuff about Neil Gaiman. Mostly posts about the recent controversy involving the titular author, as well as a bunch of gifs and videos of The Sandman.

Alongside that, "Jesus" has been reblogging and posting far-right content and views.

And I mean the really bonkers far-right content, like sharing videos from Sky News Australia (That channel alone is a rabbit hole in of itself, and I do not have time for any of that.) and is also pretty antisemitic.

Let's just say that if he supporting the Free Palestine movement, he's doing it for all the wrong reasons.

But let's get back to the main question at hand:

It's unusual for these plants to be reblogging this sort of stuff, given that they mostly reblog left-leaning content/politics.

So how the hell did a reblog bot manage to reblog this man's writings?

I was going to say "perhaps its the tags" but....

Here's the tags from "Jesus"'s titular post:

And here's the tags from throathole's post and tags, two days before the incident:

So we can't answer this with "because tags". There could very well be a more complicated process going on that is making this occur.

Luckily, I hope that this little snafu helps confirm that these plants might not be real human beings.

TL;DR: A reblog plant had reblogged a reblog of a reblog plant, and said reblog is the ramblings of a mentally broken man who spews out far right propaganda, is antisemitic, and thinks he's jesus christ in the flesh.

And for the love of god and all that is holy, just report and block the man. Do not harass him. Do not interact with him. He cannot be reasoned with.

Why did spongebobsssquarepants reblog a lengthy argument from a right-winger without any refutation from someone else???