#is that joke in poor taste? probably.

[neverendingford]

.

[innocuousghost]

Since the article about Neil Gaiman I've seen a lot of people reassessing their relationship with Terry Pratchett. Which to a certain extent does make sense: they were co-authors and as a part of his cult of personality Neil Gaiman frequently presented himself as The Guy Who Knew Terry Pratchett. So in the public consciousness their legacies seem very intertwined.

So I can understand the pivot to asking about Terry Pratchett.

But a lot of what I've seen strikes me as being paranoid and conspiratorial in a way that I do not think is healthy or particularly useful. ("Did he know? Did he not know? Was Neil Gaiman overstating their friendship? Why did Terry Pratchett really have his hard drive destroyed?")

Now, I never met Terry Pratchett. But for my money? It seems pretty likely that he didn't know what was going on. The article itself states that most of Neil Gaiman's living friends didn't know what was going on: "But in my conversations with Gaiman’s old friends, collaborators, and peers, nearly all of them told me that they never imagined that Gaiman’s affairs could have been anything but enthusiastically consensual." And throughout most of the timeline of assaults the article covers Terry Pratchett was largely either in the late stages of dimentia on another continent or dead.

Though obviously we can't say for sure he didn't know something. (Even if he genuinely didn't know it's not like he would have turned to Rihanna Pratchett and said "Just in case anybody ever asks I want it on the record that to my knowledge Neil Gaiman is not and never has been a serial rapist.")

But ultimately. That's not actually the core issue that's keeping people awake at night I don't think. I think it's "How do I continue being fans of creatives knowing that some of them are secretly capable of legitimate evil without me ever being made aware of it?"

There is a pretty loud and unpleasant contingent on the internet whose solution to that problem seems to be "You can't. The only way to eschew blind celebrity worship is to live your life every second assuming in the back of your mind that every creative living or dead could be revealed to be a serial rapist at any moment. Just in case it turns out they actually are." Which. Doesn't strike me as particularly helpful. Or even feasible. And that is certainly not a lens I would recommend universally applying to strangers. Not even famous ones.

Instead I think it's probably helpful to look at famous strangers the way you would look at strangers in your own life - like the barista at your coffee shop: that they are probably flawed but also presumably decent. And much like with a barista, in your limited interactions (largely exchanges of product for money, with perhaps a smattering of surface level small talk. Much like with celebrities) you probably won't have much opportunity to discover if they're secretly a bad person. So if it turns out they are, it really isn't your fault that you didn't notice.

And based on what I saw in his books and interviews and his memoir by Rob Wilkins - though he was presumably decent I also certainly think Terry Pratchett was flawed. He was occasionally rude (based on anecdotes from people who knew him), some of the jokes in his books about the counterweight content strike me as being in poor taste and despite his flashes of acab I'd say the perspective of the city watch books was actually largely police reformist rather than abolitionist.

Yet I continue like his work (and what small slice I know about him as a person) anyways.

And understanding creatives as being flawed doesn't even mean "there's something unequivocally problematic out there! Hiding! In their work! In their interviews! And if you employ enough of a bad faith reading then you'll be able to find it!" No. (I mean, there might be some genuinely ethically dubious stuff in there but there also might not.) In my experience even just seeing the little flaws, like flaws in their craft are enough to knock creatives off of the perfect pedestal in your mind. Like, stuff you don't even have to be super knowledgeable about the craft in question to notice. "Eh that scene really dragged. That joke didn't really land. Anyways" And I certainly think Terry Pratchett had his craft issues. Just look at the first two Discworlds and some of the middle rincewind books for proof of that. And it can even be smaller than that. Tiny personality flaws that annoy you: Terry Pratchett was very snobby about Doctor Who in a way that strikes me as overly pedantic enough to be worthy of an eyeroll.

We should see the creatives who you admire, who make work you love as earthly and human. Not as untouchable gods who can do no wrong. (Clearly that isn't working out for us for a variety of reasons)

And setting aside the total monsters, I think it's a good thing that the stuff you like was made by people who are flawed. Humans are flawed, the people in your fandom are flawed, your friends are flawed, and you're flawed. But look at all the cool stuff you all make anyways.

[local-redhead-bookworm]

Jonathan Byers is a great brother and character

That is all, carry on with your day

[notcatherinemorland]

I'm sure this will mean absolutely nothing to nobody, but this shit is my magnum opus:

My little cleric's D&D spell list: broken down into V/S/M; curtailed relevant components agreed with the GM; specialisations, and casting time. I have won at d&d 5e, where the e stands for Excel

[peachlessphan]

this has probably been said a million times but for anyone who wasnt super into dan and phil during 2012-2017 its impossible to describe how surreal it is to see dnp this comfortable joking about phan. seeing dan specifically make jokes about being gay and slutty was UNFATHOMABLE during those years. talking about phan unironically around them was in such poor taste and now theyre not just jokingly read fic or looking at phanart, theyre fucking joking about getting married irl. like. do you guys even realize how lucky we are to see this shit.

[the-horrible-anon]

I changed my wifi name on my phone to Titanic.

Now it’s syncing.

(still the previous anon, but I have an idea)

[you can just call me the horrible anon for now, cuz I feel really shitty for what I did]

anyways have a (slightly more?) on target joke

How did the asexual win the tennis match?

He aced every serve.

(you're good. Trust me about that.)

Alastor looks up from his current position, and chuckles lightly

"I've got a joke for you."

"I was digging in my garden and I found a chest full of gold coins! So I went to go tell my husband, but then remembered why I was digging the hole"

[notquitecanon]

Familiarity & Whiskey // Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon and Johnny get in a fight, which is how Simon crosses your path. Thinking your an easy mark for quick comfort and a quick fuck, he's not aware you're in the UK to meet your estranged father. Your circles running tighter with his than he thinks...

(Unedited)

Poor Simon can't catch a fucking break. Let this man nut and smoke a cigarette.

CW: feminine descriptions and pronouns used, alcohol consumption, making out, heavy petting, allusions to oral (male receiving), Simon's lowkey highkey manipulative, absent father!John Price, don't think too hard about age gaps i gave up

Request by: @i-live-in-spite

NSFW 18+ MDNI

"Go to hell, Riley. ‘S where ye fuckin’ belong." 

That had been Johnny’s direct words.

 Which was the first and only time Johnny had addressed by just his last name. Usually it was some irritating nickname, his callsign, or his rank delivered with the Scotsman’s usual bright eyes and mirth that somehow made it less annoying to Simon. And when it was his real name, in serious times, it was his first name, with a sincere look and genuine inflection. Never just ‘Riley’. 

But Johnny had spit his last name like it was a curse. Something that tasted bitter in his mouth, something poisonous. 

Hell, maybe it fucking was. And it had him craving something volatile- destructive. Alcohol, sex, a pack of cigarettes… and if he couldn’t get one of those to self-medicate this poisonous streak, he’d settle for bloodying his fists before the end of the night. 

A shit mission with a shit conclusion. A shit day. Fuck, a shit year.  Culminating in a clash between Lieutenant and Sergeant, Simon’s icy seething clashing Johnny’s explosive rage about a bad call made worse by Simon’s version of coping- cold indifference and colder jokes.  Actions had consequences, isn’t that what Simon always told his sergeant? Maybe that’s why Simon was stewing in the shitty pub close to base crawling with recruits after Gaz and Price had forcibly split up the confrontation right as it was about to get physical. 

Price had all but shoved him off base while Gaz took Soap somewhere to cool off- probably the gym or some equally shitty pub on opposite ends of the city. So there he was, sulking in a corner, nursing the only bourbon this bar offered, stewing over whether or not he needed to apologize.  

The thought of apologizing burned worse than the bottom shelf bourbon he was sipping. He was Ghost. The Ghost. He didn’t apologize. This was one of those times he would’ve actually appreciated Price’s usually unwarranted ’sage’ advice- but he was tied up, still on base and pissed off because he was trying to wrap up mission reports and now was cleaning up Simon’s mess. 

—

"Excuse me? Would it be ok if I sat here? I’m waiting for someone but the guys at the bar won’t leave me alone." You were biting your lip a little, trying your best not to look too awkward as you asked the tall, dark, and you assumed handsome but you couldn’t tell around the mask he was wearing. You felt nervous, but not to be talking to you, you were nervous for a laundry list of other reasons. Including and limited to meeting your father for the first time since you were barely three years old. 

When the pub had been suggested to you, you’d thought the closeness to his base was an advantage- casual, easy, public, nearby- what you hadn’t accounted for was the herds of young soldiers that would also be there.  Trying to buy yourself a drink to calm your nerves while you waited had resulted in four heinous pick up lines, three cocktail napkins with phone numbers scrawled on them, two vulgar gestures, and one marriage proposal. Like the 12 days of Christmas song, but from hell. The only place that wasn’t buzzing with sloshed young soldiers was a dark corner with an absolute behemoth of a masked man, two empties and a half drank tumbler of whiskey.  Despite (or perhaps because of) the nerves, jet lag, and shot of tequila you’d just took because of said nerves, you considered yourself something of a strategist. 

After you asked, narrowed amber eyes flicked up to you appraisingly, pinning you to your spot. Even slightly slouched over his drink, he was huge. Not just tall, but built like a brick house. He wasn’t wearing an actual military uniform, but everything about him just read military. He stared at you for a second, then a minutes, stretching into two. To your credit, you kept your chin high and your eyes level on his. Right as you started to say, "Never mind, sorry to bother-" 

" ’s fine." His voice was deep and kind of gravelly, low enough that his quiet tone was almost lost to the barroom chatter. His accent wasn’t one you’d heard before, a bit sharper and choppier than the accent John had on the phone. He scooted further into the booth, dragging his drink with him. As you turned back and slid into the corner booth, he scrutinized you again, like you were supposed to be familiar to him, "I know you?" 

"Doubt it." You smiled, a tight lipped but warm thing. You knew you didn’t know him considering this was the first time you’d set foot in this country. Not to mention you’d undoubtedly remember a character like this. So instead, you offered him your name and an outstretched hand. He nodded, neither returning the exchange or shaking your hand, just grunting to show he heard you. 

Still, he scanned you again. Simon was sure he’d never met you, but there was something about you that was eerily familiar. It was the feeling of someone’s name being on the tip of his tongue but slipping between thoughts before he could place it, or a song that as soon as he tried to think about it the melody slipped away. It wasn’t your physical features, as pretty of a bird as you were. That little smile, the way you carried yourself, the saunter in your walk, how your shoulder were held, the set of your jaw, you were young in the face but seemed older, the casual confidence so rare for someone your age… These were all things so familiar to him, but he couldn’t connect it to it’s match. Maybe it was the bourbon. 

"Y’not from ‘round here." He stated, and it wasn’t a question. Simon knew it as a fact. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why someone not from here would patronize a piss-poor pub like this, especially a bird like you- pretty and warm and put together. He rose an eyebrow that shifted the brow of his mask, "What brings you?" 

Blunt and to the point. Definitely military.  You leaned back against the booth, your finger tracing the glass rim of the wine glass you’d set down in front of you. White wine from a shit hole like this was one of the many clues that you didn’t belong here. 

"Meeting someone important." You answered vaguely with another one of those warm but tight smiles. Seriously, where did he know that from? "He’s late." 

"A date?" He pressed further with eyes that were somehow intense and disinterested at the same time. You couldn’t decide if his bluntness was a military quirk or social dysfunction, or possibly both. Of course he couldn’t know that this was the furthest thing from a date you could be doing tonight, which made you laugh, loudly and suddenly. The noise took Simon off guard, but not for it’s spontaneity or for how bright and beautiful it was , but because it tugged at that feeling a familiarity, bordering on nostalgia. 

"Oh, god no." You rushed, shaking your head and forming an X over your chest for good measure, still laughing a bit as you took a sip of wine. Still, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to describe John. "Not a date. I’m just meeting…. someone important." 

Simon doesn't know why this pleased him. Something about you being available and talking to him as opposed to the damnably flashy and obnoxious grunts wearing their dress uniforms to the pub on a fuckin’ Tuesday… Simon’s mouth quirked into a subtle smirk as he lifted his mask enough to take a sip of his bourbon, not missing how your too-familiar eyes followed the movement, intrigued and keen, “Who then?" 

"Nope, I’ve already answered, like, three questions. Your turn?" There was that casual confidence again as you turned the question on him with that little grin, legs cross under the table as your nails clicked against the sticky wood table, "What brings you here?" 

Simon’s expression under the mask soured again, eyes fixing on the lipstick stain on your wine glass. Pretty color… He wondered how it’d look smeared along his mouth. Or his cock. He shook that thought out of his head, bringing his eyes back to yours. Maybe it was the bourbon that loosened his tongue, or maybe those eyes of yours, “Got in a fight with a mate o’ mine. It was… suggested that we give each other some space.” 

‘Suggested' was nice was of saying Price manhandled him all the way to the guard station at the gate. Like a scolded dog being put outside. 

“So you’ve put yourself in the corner? Are you in timeout?” You quirked an eyebrow in another frustratingly familiar gesture, something that made him chuckle instead of bristle as you gestured to the dark corner he’d been lurking in. 

“Something like that.” He nodded, swirling the whiskey in his glass. 

“What was the fight about?” You asked casually, taking another sip of your wine. Normally so private, Simon would’ve bitten a stranger’s head off for such a personal question. But coming from you, between his desire to keep your attention on him and the ever present nagging sense of familiarity, he just sighed. 

“Hard week pushed some buttons. We’ve both got tempers. Mine’s worse.” He explanation was simple, both from characteristic standoffishness and the fact the mission that had provoked this fight had taken place in a country the British Military was not supposed to be. Another deep sigh like the confession took something wrenching from him, “He puts up with me usually, but I… said somethings’ I shouldn’t’ve.”

You nodded sagely, taking in the rather vague information with eyes settled on the far wall as if you were doing mental math, quiet deductions. He recognized this look from somewhere, this was the look of someone looking for answers and solutions. Your fingers tapped against the table again before your eyes slid back to him, “So you were both assholes to each other, but you were worse?” 

“Yeah. That’s the gist of it.” Simon scoffed as you boiled down his already barebones explanation even further. You nodded again, looking at him quizzically. 

“Have you thought about just apologizing?” You rose an eyebrow at him, your head cocking a little to the side. The most obvious answer in the world that for some reason he couldn’t wrap his hand around. He opened his mouth to protest, but you were quicker, voice chiding in way he’d heard before- but from where?, “No, let me guess, it’s not that simple, you can’t just apologize.” 

For a moment you dropped your voice a little lower and attmepted a half imitation of his Mancunian accent which would’ve been offensive if it wasn’t exactly what he was about to say. You huffed a quiet lap before returning to your normal tone with a roll of your eyes, “Believe me, yes, it is that simple, and, yes, you can just apologize. And if you truly think it’s not something an apology would fix, let him get one good hit in and get it out of your systems. Problem solved.” 

“Get it out of our systems?” Simon asked a little incredulously, despite the sampling of a sharp wit and the occasional hard glint to your eyes, he hadn’t expected someone as soft looking as you to jump to punching as a serious form of conflict resolution. Hell, you sounded more like his Captain Price than some random pretty thing in a pub, “that’s terrible advice.” 

“You telling me you would’ve seriously taken my apologize and talk it out advice?” Your eyebrows raised again as you leaned forward on your elbows onto the table- another frustratingly familiar look that would’ve distracted him if your now exposed cleavage didn’t distract him further. He swallowed as he stared, feeling the growing need to get something out of his system, and his fight with Johnny was becoming less and less forefront in his mind. 

“Not a chance.” He shook his head, sniper eyes locking in on the drop of wine that escaped your glass and slid between your breasts, quickly disappearing between skin and under your shirt. He could find it with his tongue, bet your skin made the wine sweeter… 

“Yeah,” You laughed again, setting down the empty glass, finding this intriguing masked character to be a wonderful distraction from the anxiety of this upcoming meeting. And if John was running late, you’d take advantage of the distraction, “Figured as much.” 

___

An hour and another glass of wine later, you’d continued to scoot closer to the masked man in the booth with you. He was first to initiate contact, throwing an arm over your shoulders in the pretense of keeping you close enough to hear over the rowdy group cheering on a rugby game, it was you who had leaned into his side. His hand had found your thigh first, but your nails were tracing little shapes and words against his forearm. 

“Who was it you were meetin' 'ere, sweetheart?” Simon asked again, his mask still rolled over his nose again as he took another sip of his bourbon, lips grazing your earring as his breath fanned over your neck. He wondered how you would react if his teeth tugged one of the pretty little earrings you’d picked out. You were distracted noticing how his accent minced certain letters in syllables in a delectable way, “Only a fool’d keep you waitin’ this long.” 

Two glasses of wine and jet lag had done away with your need for vague answers as you leaned into him, shivering as the smell of bourbon, cigarettes, and gunpowder started to overpower your perfume. You swallowed, eyes meeting his with a bit of nervousness he hadn’t been able to pick up on you until just now, “I’m meeting my father. We’ve been estranged most of my life. And he’s an hour and forty five late now.” 

“Shit.” Simon muttered under his breath, not thinking you could’ve said anything that could really surprise him. Meeting your estranged father and yet you’d spent the last two hours coaching and comforting him through a fight with his friend. That level of self sacrifice should’ve clued him into your parentage almost immediately, but he was busy staring at how your wide eyes were staring up at him through your lashes, teeth toying with the seam of your lips that your tongue kept darting out to wet. 

“I’m a little nervous.” You admitted, the nail that was tracing shapes on his forearm dropped down to his massive thigh to brace yourself. If you leaned any closer, you’d be all but in his lap- which wouldn’t be the worse thing, both of you mentally decided. You took a deep breath, sipping some of the water you’d ordered midway through your third glass of wine,  "A lot nervous, actually.” 

One thing about Simon, was that as a sniper, he was opportunistic. When he saw a shot, he took it. And you just lined him up to test his theory on how long it’d take to convince you to slip into the pub bathrooms with him. 

His arm around your shoulder adjusted so he could gently brush some hair behind your ear, thumb purposely grazing your cheekbone before he tilted your face up to meet his, “Well, you know the best way to get over your nerves?” 

The sudden closeness stunned any witty retort to silence as you hummed for him to continue, swallowing thickly in a way that brought those keenly sharp eyes to watch the bob of your throat. He chuckled lowly to himself, so sweet and perfect, he was about to absolutely ruin you. But he wasn’t evil, he’d put you back together again… 

“Gotta… work... it outta your system. Just like you said, sweetheart.”  His other hand was kneading into your thigh through the pretty satin of your skirt, such a good girl, with a skirt below your knees, and he looked forward to shredding those tights underneath with nothing but his teeth and bare hands. But… he wondered if he could make you cum through them before he ruined them, and with the way you tensed and then melted at his touch, he was betting the answer was a firm yes. “Gonna let me help you like you’ve been helping me?”

You thought he sure had a funny way of equating this heavy petting to the teasing and mild comfort you’d offered about his fight with this ‘Soap’ guy, but you nodded anyway. All the pent-up anxiety made it an eager motion as he chuckled, leaning forward and catching your mouth, so possessive and borderline aggressive at your compliance. He was a bit of a bully, using his bulk and his weight so you would bend underneath him like he was testing how hard he had to press for you to break, and when you whined at the feeling of him biting your lip, he only swallowed your sounds and laughed into your mouth. 

Lips smearing your pretty makeup, one hand tangling your hair into his finger and the other fisting your skirt so it started hiking up your legs, and one of his boots nudging your ankles out of their polite cross so he could start prying your thighs apart.  God, you were making out (bordering on hooking up) with a nameless, masked man with anger issues while you waited to meet your estranged father for basically the first time… What had your life come to? 

Actually, the absent father bit explained the masked stranger bit if you thought about it for more than three seconds. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’ve gotta be taking the absolute piss, Simon.” A sudden and angry voice, familiar to both of you sounded from the front of your secluded little booth. You jumped back away from your paramour. Simon, apparently was his name, while he only turned in frustrated confusion at his captain interrupted him blowing off steam, just as he’d been instructed when Price all but kicked him off base for the night. 

Your eyes went wide in absolute mortification, like you’d melt under the table and just die there. Standing there, watching you sloppily make out with someone he apparently knew, was your father. John Price. Who hadn’t seen you since you were three years old and compulsively carried around a Kermit the frog stuffie everywhere you went… He looked older compared to your hazy memories of him and the singular picture your mother hadn’t burned, and the interesting facial hair only made him look older. You suspected he was capable of looking warm and kind, your mother always said you got his soft eyes and smile, but right now he looked pissed.

“Price?” Simon questioned, yanking his mask back over his mouth to hide the smears of his lipstick, wondering if this temper had something to do with the mission or with his fight with the sergeant and if so, why it was urgent enough to interrupt him right now. He’d noted how you went rigid underneath him, batting his hand out of the balmy soft canyon between your spread thighs before they clamped shut again. Shit, that door was rapidly closing...

You spoke at the same time as Simon, your voice somewhere between hesitant questioning and caught teenager, “Dad?” 

“Dad?” Simon immediately parroted, his respect for his Captain superseding the whiskey and lust as he peeled himself off of you quickly doing mental math Olympics to figure out genetics and age gaps, “Bloody Hell, John-“ 

You shrieked, as Simon didn’t get a chance to justify himself or even ask, how was I supposed to know the bird I was trying to fuck was your kid you’ve never told anyone about? Because your father’s face went red instantly, jumping across the booth and landing a scarily hard punch across Simon’s face, spilling wine and whiskey all over you in the process. 

So it was going to be a bloody knuckles kind of night, after all. 

____

Sorry I kinda changed up your request a little bit, I started writing and it kinda got away from me. I'm a slave to the little worm in my brain.

[tevanbuckley]

To defend tommy (and perhaps give the writers more credit than they deserve), has buck been able to figure himself out whilst they've been dating? because for all oliver's talk about buck's bi-awakening being about buck, on screen it still doesn't seem like he's grappled with his sexuality outside of his attraction to tommy.

They're six months in and buck can't even clarify his sexuality when his sister makes a (pretty poor taste) joke about him having been "turned gay." He does the same thing he's been doing since 7.04 and talks around it.

Plus, let's be real tommy's not wrong about buck being impulsive, and he specifically has a history of using grand gestures in place of actually working through his issues. So whilst i think buck does know what he wants re: his future with tommy, like i've been saying since april i don't think he's actually thought about what that means for him and his identity. Even with Gerrard, he doesn't seem to put together why he's getting under his skin so much. There's been a very steady (if perhaps accidental) thread through buck's bi-awakening of him pretending to be more okay with it than he actually is. Like, sure could his first queer relationship be his last, yeah, but he probably should be able to say the word bisexual outloud before trying to make that happen.

I'd also argue that buck's put tommy up on a pedestal a bit, despite the fact tommy's been very open about his flaws. Even after the abby reveal, he's willing to brush past it with barely a conversation and asking him to move in. That doesn't scream, "I love you in spite of your flaws and mistakes," it screams "I'm ignoring your flaws because I love you." and that's kind of a recipe for everything to all come crashing down at some point. Which is exactly what tommy's afraid of happening.

In theory I don't even mind them breaking up/going on a break if it forces buck to actually deal with all those things, but that's only really satisfying if there's a full circle moment where he's able to go back to tommy with real clarity about who he is and what he wants.

[educatedsimps]

— how hq men react to "i like you"

they like you back but this is just how i imagine them reacting right after you admit you like them

≪ back to fics masterlist

the NORMAL ones who’d just blush and admit that they like you too (with varying thought processes tho)

↳ suga and yaku on a good day, yamaguchi after a minor panic attack (tbh he doesn't know if it’s a panic attack or if his heart is beating so fast because of you), ennoshita, kenma, aone, kita, ginjima, komori

the ones who would panic immediately. like their brains would short-circuit trying to process what you had just said. like what do you mean, you like them? YOU like THEM??? the first thing out of his mouth is “N-NOW?!” like no shit, sherlock 😐

↳ asahi, tanaka, noya, hinata, lev, kogane, bokuto, tendō but he’s calm first then he’ll be like ‘eh? … EH??’, goshiki

the ones who CANNOT comprehend 1. what you’d just said, and 2. why anyone would like them romantically (the poor boy’s a lil insecure sometimes, okay?) so the first thing he says is “why??” with the most incredulous look on his face (except ushijima)

↳ kageyama (he’s dumbstruck tbh), unhinged kenma, kunimi, ushijima, sakusa

the ones who would ask “are you sick?” WITH ZERO HESITATION like, he’s in denial okay ✋ of course you’d get his protective and caring side out, and he doesn’t even understand what you said. i mean he does…? but again, he doesn’t believe it. yet. and yeah, he’s genuinely worried that you’d said that because you were high or something LOL

↳ daichi, tsukishima but he’s like judging you kinda, akaashi The Overthinker ™️, iwaizumi 100%, matsukawa but he'd probably say it in a joking way while he tries to process the thought of you actually liking him, kindaichi, semi, yamagata, kita

the ones who would freeze and believe it for a second before convincing himself that you’re joking. also follows up with "who paid you to say that?" with all the skepticism in the world. it's not that he doesn’t trust you, he’s just in denial 🤧

↳ suga and yaku on an unhinged day, shirabu, suna (he thinks atsumu’s pulling a cruel prank on him), osamu (also thinks it’s atsumu), aran, hanamaki and iwaizumi (they both think it’s oikawa)

the mfs who go "well, i can't fault you for having exquisite taste" or some egotistical shit like that, ALSO with zero hesitation. like sir puh-lease ✋ knock ur ego down a notch, you’re not all’at (he is, tho)

↳ kuroo, oikawa, futakuchi, MIYA FUCKING ATSUMU

a/n: idk why but in my mind i just group suga and yaku together because they just give me rlly similar vibes (except suga is a lil more cray cray) and yes the two of them def have hinged and unhinged days but anyway i churned this out at 1am so excuse the half assedness of this one, i hope it was somewhat entertaining! i tried to be funny okay 🤧

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[impishjesters]

Pomni, Kinger, Caine & Jax's reaction to their s/o abstracting

warning(s): angst, hurt no comfort, self-blame, "death" of the reader, implied "death"/abstraction of another character (spoiler: Kinger), hopeful outcome note(s): There's nothing incredibly heavy or detailed, just tread carefully if "death" is something you are sensitive to, please. The "hopeful outcome" implies that Caine will at some point in time be able to fix those who've abstracted. A/N: I was feeling particularly cruel and wanted to write some angst, this came to mind and I'll be honest. I made myself a little sad.

Pomni

She never saw it coming, of course, you were acting different lately but she didn’t think it would… lead to you abstracting…

It took forever for things to get some semblance of normalcy, and you being with her was a major part of it.

Sure the relationship in a place like this was a bit, weird, but you cared about her, and she cared about you.

You kept her sane and grounded, so when you were found abstracted? It felt like she failed you.

Ragatha tries to assure her that you aren’t completely gone. Like Kaufmo you’re being kept in the cellar. Caine claims the abstracted are being kept there until he can find a way to “fix” them. (Whether he’s genuine or not though, none of them know.)

It’s all empty promises though, she still feels like she failed you.

Kinger

Not again…

Kinger silently promised himself not again, he was fine being friendly with everyone else that fell into the circus, but he had no intentions of being more than that.

But then you happened, and while he was still in shambles from the time and the insanity spent here, you were there beside him. Like a knight in shining armor.

He hadn’t been around when you abstracted, in fact, he didn’t know you abstracted until there was yelling, and boom an abstraction was causing chaos.

Kinger didn’t know who it was until it was sent off to the cellar, actually, he didn’t know who it was until he realized everyone was present except you.

There’s a high probability that losing someone again, losing you, is what ends up being his own downfall. The other’s (not including Jax) try their all to get him to calm down but it’s not enough, it’s too late…

Caine

Of all the humans to be pulled in he never once got attached.

This was never supposed to happen, he’s incapable of love.

Caine does his best to keep the humans from abstracting, and as many eyes as he has over the place, there are always ones that slip through his grasp.

Of course, he’s not around when you abstract, it takes a bunch of hooting and hollering from everyone before he shows up and oh hey an abstraction.

At an immediate glance, he knows it’s you, abstractions never remotely look like the person they were before but he knows it’s you. You don’t recognize him as you lash out, of course you don’t, you can’t.

He’s unsure about tossing you with the others in the cellar, there’s nowhere else he can truthfully keep you without causing problems. So into the cellar, you go.

Caine visits you though, not for long but he does check in on you. Not that anything changes, but out of all the abstractions down there, he knows exactly which one is you.

You’ll be the first human he fixes as soon as he’s able to.

Jax

His s/o abstracted? Nice joke, though it’s in poor taste. You’re completely fine, he just saw you earlier.

Jax doesn’t believe it until he sees it, and seeing it absolutely ruins him. He’s seen countless others get abstracted and thrown into the cellar, but why, why does it have to be you?

Why couldn’t it have been literally anyone else? He didn’t give a shit about anyone else, the one person he cared for, and you…

Similarly to Pomni, he feels it’s his fault like he could’ve, no should’ve done more. Was he so wrapped up in everything else that he didn’t notice the signs? Why didn’t you talk to him? You didn’t, didn’t do that on purpose, did you?

For the first time ever, the others are genuinely worried about Jax, they all saw/know how much you meant to him. The two of you even spoke fondly about what the two of you would do if you got out of the circus.

For a while Jax becomes even more irrational and unhinged, they try not to hold it against him too badly, even when he oversteps. He’s grieving and none of them know just how long that’ll go on.

Jax isn’t quite the same afterward, but he makes sure that nobody else tries to worm their way into his heart.

If it’s possible, he’ll make sure Caine fixes you the second he’s able to. Even if Caine can fix only one person, it’s going to be you.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Snowed-In Together | LN4

❄️ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando’s road trip to a cabin turns into a bickering match, but after a heartfelt moment, they share a kiss. By the end of the storm, their rivalry has transformed into something more.

❄️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❄️ word count ━━━━━━━ 1.3k

The drive up to the cabin was supposed to be relaxing. Christmas lights twinkled along the roadside, and the snow had been falling softly—at least until the storm rolled in. Y/N and Lando, stuck in the same car thanks to their mutual friends’ poor planning, were now bickering endlessly.

“This is your fault,” Y/N said, shooting him a glare as the wipers struggled against the heavy snow.

“My fault?” Lando retorted, his voice rising in indignation. “You’re the one who insisted on stopping for coffee. I said we should keep going before the weather got worse!”

“Right, because skipping caffeine is the key to safe driving,” she snapped.

Every shared moment seemed to turn into a battle of wills—one neither could ever admit enjoying, even though their friends joked about their "chemistry."

It wasn’t chemistry, Y/N thought as they pulled into the snowy driveway. It was just him being insufferable.

They’d barely made it to the cabin before the storm hit full force. Inside, their friends were already settled, fires lit, drinks poured, and the best rooms claimed. Y/N and Lando, arriving last, were left with the drafty, freezing room at the far end of the cabin.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Y/N muttered, eyeing the twin beds.

Lando, standing behind her with his bag slung over his shoulder, let out a sharp laugh. “This is going to be fun.”

“Define fun,” she shot back, dropping her bag onto one of the beds.

_________________________________________________

The storm was relentless, the wind howling against the windows as the snow piled higher outside. The cabin, warm and cozy in the main living area, felt like a refuge—unless you were Lando or Y/N.

They’d spent the evening snapping at each other over every little thing.

“Who chooses Die Hard over Love Actually during Christmas?” Y/N demanded, clutching the remote.

“People with taste,” Lando retorted, lounging on the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Their friends exchanged knowing glances, clearly amused by the bickering.

“You two should probably just kiss and get it over with,” one of them teased.

Y/N spluttered, her cheeks flushing. “Excuse me? As if that would ever happen.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his smirk infuriating. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

The next day, the storm had worsened, leaving them completely snowed in. The cabin was cut off from the outside world, and the power flickered ominously throughout the morning.

Wrapped in a blanket, Y/N sat by the window, sipping tea and trying to ignore Lando’s presence as he sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

“You’re surprisingly quiet,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Maybe because I’ve run out of ways to insult you,” she shot back, though there was no real bite in her tone.

He smirked, setting his phone down. “Impressive. I didn’t think that was possible.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile.

Later that afternoon, Y/N busied herself with unpacking some Christmas decorations their friends had brought. Lando, clearly bored, wandered over and started rummaging through the box.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Decorating,” she said shortly, not looking at him.

He wandered over, picking up a small, hand-painted ornament. “What’s this?”

“Don’t touch that!” she said, snatching it from his hands.

He blinked, surprised by her tone. “Relax, I wasn’t going to break it.”

“It’s fragile,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the chipped paint.

“It’s just an ornament,” he teased, but his voice had lost some of its edge.

“It’s not just an ornament,” she replied, her tone sharp. “It’s... it belonged to my grandparents.”

Lando’s teasing smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “Oh.”

“They gave it to me when I was little,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “It’s the only thing I have left of them.”

The room fell quiet, and for a moment, Lando seemed at a loss for words. Then, in a voice softer than she’d ever heard from him, he said, “I didn’t mean to joke about it. I get it... holding on to things like that.”

Y/N looked up, startled by his sincerity. “You do?”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. It’s not the same, but... Christmas isn’t really the same for me anymore. With racing, I’m always away from my family. It’s like I’ve lost that connection to it, you know?”

Her heart softened, the walls she’d built around him crumbling just a little. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

He shrugged, a small, self-deprecating smile on his lips. “You never asked.”

Something shifted between them in that moment, the usual sharpness of their banter replaced by an unfamiliar warmth.

That night, the power went out completely, plunging the cabin into darkness. The fireplace provided some warmth, but the room they shared was freezing. Y/N huddled under her blankets, shivering, until Lando spoke up.

“You’re going to freeze over there,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence.

“I’m fine,” she replied through chattering teeth.

“Stop being stubborn,” he said, his voice laced with irritation and concern. She heard him get up, and before she could protest, he was climbing into her bed, pulling his blanket over hers. “There. Better?”

She glared at him, though the warmth was undeniably welcome. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Yeah, well, you never do,” he said, his voice soft but laced with amusement and settling beside her. “Doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

The bed was small, and the proximity was unnerving. She could feel the heat of his body, his scent—woodsy and faintly sweet—lingering in the air.

“You’re annoying,” she muttered, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing.

“And you’re stubborn,” he countered, his lips curving into a small smile.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the flickering firelight casting shadows across his face. Something in his expression softened, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

“Why do we do this?” she asked quietly.

“Do what?”

“Argue. Fight. Act like we hate each other.”

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. His gaze was intense, but not in the mocking way she was used to. “Maybe because it’s easier than admitting the truth.”

Her breath hitched. “What truth?”

“That you drive me absolutely mad,” he said, as he reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his voice low and unsteady. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. “Lando...”

Her lips parted in surprise, but before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

She didn’t.

When his lips met hers, it was soft at first, almost hesitant. But as the kiss deepened, months of tension and unspoken feelings spilled out between them. Her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, and he responded with a quiet, desperate intensity that made her head spin.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together.

“Well,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his, “that escalated quickly.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Guess we were overdue.”

_________________________________________________

By the time the snowstorm passed, everything between them had changed. The biting remarks and sharp retorts were gone, replaced by teasing smiles and stolen touches. Their friends noticed, of course, but no one said anything—at least, not yet.

As they packed up to leave, Lando lingered by her car, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“So,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, “what happens now?”

She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “What do you want to happen?”

His smile was slow, warm, and a little unsure. “I want... whatever this is. You and me.”

Her heart fluttered, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “Good. Because I want that too.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

As she drove away, her cheeks flushed and her lips tingling, she couldn’t help but smile. The storm had left them with something unexpected, something real—and she couldn’t wait to see where it led.

[dollyhao]

succubus!reader x nerdy!ellie

summary: ellie is desperate to lose her virginity that has been looming over her her whole college career.

toni’s note: i made it guys! i promised this back in october and it’s the end of january… but it’s here.

cw: this is pure smut, no plot at all lol. 1.8k words

༊*·˚

ellie has not a single regret about what she’s about to do. ellie is in college and is still a virgin, at this point she didn’t think she’d ever lose her virginity. until one of her friends joked that she should summon a sex demon, that it was ‘the only way she’d get laid’. it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but desperation makes people do crazy things.

she read in an old book she found in the library about one in particular, the book had a picture of you drawn in and ellie thought you were absolutely gorgeous and perfect for her. what was the worst that could happen?

ellie lights the candles around the circle she made on her bedroom floor. she chanted your name 5 times like the book told her, then after 20 seconds the candles all blew out and a gust of purple smoke floats in the air. you pop out the smoke looking even more perfect than the book describes.

“who dares summons me?” you say in this slow sensual voice that ellie feels course through her body. you look around the room you were summoned in before your eyes rest on a short girl with black rimmed glasses on her face. ellie is looking at you with those pretty green puppy eyes, mouthed formed into an o shape.

“a girl? well thats new,” you walk closer to ellie sizing her up. “your cute… tell me what you want from me.” “i-i,” ellie is literally speechless. shes staring up at you, the lady demon whos probably gonna take her virginity. you have long horns on your head and a cute skinny tail, but the best part is that your completely naked. breast out in the open, nipples standing at attention, nothing covering your cunt and it’s just begging for ellie to drop to her knees to taste you.

“did you call me here to waste my time?” you ask her putting your hands on your hips with a quirked brow. “no no! i-i want you to take my virginity.” ellie says playing with her fingers. you hum, “ok ill do it. but you have to sign a contract-” “yes yes! anything!” you spawn a paper out of thin air, “dont you wanna know what your agreeing to?” but by the time you finish your sentence ellie has already signed the paper.

after she is done signing, the paper disappears. “i wanna let you know i-i’ve never done this before. well i almost did in my fourth year of highschool but that was a missed opportunity-“ ellie’s nervous rambling was cut off by you running your hands over her shoulders and ripping her shirt open exposing a blue sports bra underneath. ellie gapes at you, suprised at the sudden intrusion. you push the ripped shirt off her shoulders. “do you wanna touch me?” you say voice softening seeing how nervous the poor girl is.

she nods vigorously trailing her hands up your tummy to your breast. “you can touch me however you want.” you say smirking at her. ellie feels like she can hear your voice inside her head, a slow sensual voice with a rasp that can only be described as wild and sexy. she feels a rush of arousal pulse through her as she pushes you to lay on her bed. your eyebrows shot up, you feel her start to kiss down your stomach swirling her tongue around your navel before her head dips between your legs.

you buck slightly when you feel her inexperienced tongue flicking all around your cunt. she takes your clit into her mouth rolling and flicking her tongue all around it (like they do in the videos she watched before the summoning). you can feel her breathing heavy against you. she pushes two experimental fingers into you feeling how wet and tight you were. you taste sweet like honey and something else addictive that ellie can’t name, ellie suspects its part of your demon powers.

you grab her hair squeezing your legs around her head trying to contain your moans, no human has ever made you feel so good. you might just… like this girl. she’s cute and gentle. and she looks at you like your aphrodite instead of a sex demon.

you feel yourself about to cum when you push her head from between your thighs. ellie is looking at you, chin covered in your juices looking pussy drunk with her glasses fogged up. “are you ok?” she asked you, looking genuinely concerned. you want to coo at her but instead you flip her over taking place in between her legs this time. you peer up at her with this look that looks like you want to devour her. you pull down her sweat pants and underwear licking your lips at her slick pussy.

you give her clit a sweet kiss before using your thumb to rub circles on it. ellies moans out loud when she feels your abnormally long tongue enter her. your tongue is reaching places her fingers couldnt possibly reach. she chants you name which only encourages you to move your thumb faster on her clit. ellie grabs your horns and pull before locking her ankles together keeping you still as she grinded on your tongue feeling the knot in her stomach ready to explode. you let out a groan as ellie tugs on your horns. “im so close.” she says before her body goes rigid.

you pull away from ellie, swallowing her essence, seeming to have had an energy boost. “is there anything else you wanna try?” you say rubbing up and down her legs. she nods getting off the bed grabbing a box from under it. in the box are sex toys but ellie pulls out a girthy purple strap. “oh,” you say eyes widening, “you wanna use that on me?” you ask with that same sensual tone from the beginning. “yes.. please”

she puts the strap on before she feels you push her down on the bed straddling her. you hover over her dick grabbing it and running it up and down your slick cunt. “you want me to fuck you?” you say placing a hand on her chest still hovering over her. ellie nods her head grabbing your hips panting in anticipation, “yes please…” “ask nicely,” you say leaning down licking and biting her ear. “please fuck me. please.” ellie says bucking her hips. the tip of her dick pushes into you, you moan sitting completely on ellie’s cock.

you are bouncing and riding with no sign of slowing down. ellie is running her hands over your body, transfixed at the way your breast bounce as you ride her. when she sits up, she wraps her arms around your waist, holding you close to her as she kisses your neck and chest leaving marks.

you grab ellie’s face, tilting her head to the side so you can have access to her neck. you use your tongue to lick and suck marks into her neck until you get a little too excited and nick her neck drawing blood. ellie let’s out a groan followed by a guttural moan, completely dazed. you lick at her neck getting all the blood up before humming and planting a kiss on the mark.

ellie is gripping your ass meeting your thrust with her own desperate ones. “are you close?” ellie asked desperately, leaning to kiss you again. “very.” you coo out, kissing her using that long muscle of yours, twirling your tongue around hers.

you let go and ellie is staring in awe at the beautiful look you made while cumming. she lays back on the bed, exhausted and satisfied. when she feels your very sharp nails trail up her stomach and latch at her sports bra causing it to rip as if it was being cut by scissors. “more.” you whisper with a wide grin.

“what?” ellie asked wide eyed. “i want more. i think im going to keep you.” you whisper in her ear.

༊*·˚

I, Ellie Williams, am allowing succubus y/n to take on a human form and co habitat with me. I will fulfill her needs of sex so that she may stay by my side and use me for a long as she wills.

signed: ellie williams

[deadghosy]

PLATONIC/ROMANTIC SLYTHERIN BOYS X LOVE WITCH/WIZARD! READER

Ft. The riddles, Draco malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott,&& Lorezno Berkshire

I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

Tom Riddle

Makes you break couples up…🙁 please he gives off hater vibes on valentines days he don’t play.

He would especially make you break up that one couple that shows too much pda to the point Tom wants to Avada Kedavra himself. He literally points and says….

“Them..do your little love spells and break their pathetic hearts.”

Poor Tom just wants to go on with his day without hearing kissing noise.

Though he do wanders what your lips taste would taste on his.

Mattheo Riddle

Always pestering you to get him a date. Hell, he even woke you up straight on Valentine’s Day so you could help him find one.

Even for the yule ball…it was annoying.

“Are you sure you can’t make a love spell to work only for tonight?” Mattheo says, walking by you in the halls. You swiftly turn around with an annoyed expression. “Matt…please shove a sock in your mouth. I can’t force love, I can coach for sure. But force isn’t a good thing.” You lastly said. Leaving the Slytherin male to think to himself.

It took a few days for him to start to flirt with you. At first it didn’t work but then it started to.

Ending up with you two dating, oddly mattheo stopped talking about love which made you ask him.

Only for him to say this, “I stopped talking about love because you took it all.” Cheeky bastard…

Draco Malfoy

He’s just like Tom. He hates seeing pda from strangers. But for him he doesn’t mind showing you affection in public

A hypocrite I must say.

But he love show you do help couples with their relationship problems. He find it usual if you two ever get into an argument.

He’s curious, is he not? He goes into your so called “love office” and checks out your potions only to accidentally drop one called “obsession” on two rats who started to mate aggressively.

He was traumatized and never went inside your office again.

Blaise Zabini

Teases you a lil for being a love witch/wizard.

At first he thought you were joking to be one, but when you show your own magic he was amazed

Now he wants to watch all your sessions so can give his own love advice

Of course he credits you🫶🏾💕

If mattheo asked Blaise to steal a potion so he make two animals fall in love

He would either do it out of pure curiosity or just say no. You trust him a lot and even gave him a spare key for your office.

Theodore Nott

He would be a slight hater towards couple showing pda in public because he’s jealous he doesn’t that kind of love.

Would immediately sneak into your love office and try to do a “compatibility test” so he can see if you two are match

Would ask you a lot of damn questions of what do girls like in a guy and what do guys like in a girl. He just wants to know!

Probably asks if you do sex therapy.

Now that made him kicked out of your office.

He’s probably banned for life too🧍🏾

Lorenzo Berkshire

“Can you get me a date?”

Is what the poor boy would say to you. And sadly you decline as love is made within itself.

Lorenzo, being a slight hopeless Romantic and you being the romantic wizard/witch you are. Is quite a duo.

But despite everything, he wants to be your apprentice. Be finds your magic spells and potions very intriguing.

“Which spell works for this couple?”

“…break that one up. They’re so toxic.”

[sapphosclosefriend]

~ Nerd! Nat Headcanons p2 ~

This is 18+ content. Minors DNI!

Part 1

SFW

Nerd! Nat who begs Yelena to teach her how to change the background of her phone to be able to always see a random selfie you have taken with her phone on a date at the park where you officially got together. You only notice it after a couple of days and just silently acknowledge it after seeing her turn as red as a tomato at the prospect of being teased for it.

Nerd! Nat who can't see shit without her glasses and squints in the cutest way possible when she wakes up next to you. She wishes she could see your face in the clearest way possible, but she can't physically wait to put on her glasses before giving you your “after sleep” peck, so she just blindly aims for your lips.

Nerd! Nat who loves immensely both cats and dogs and always rants about how she cannot even fathom people not liking one or both of them. She only has a cat, because she unfortunately doesn't have the time to properly take care of a dog, but she always rants about how one of the first things she will do after graduating is finally get a dog to keep Liho company.

Nerd! Nat who is a tea purist and is utterly shocked when one time you are too lazy to put on the kettle and heat up a mug of water in the microwave instead. (You use it as an excuse to make it up to her in a…better way). She makes it her mission in the next couple of days to thoroughly explain to you how to properly make the perfect tea “for your sake” because “you deserve only the best”.

Nerd! Nat who, doesn't mention it to you of course, but LOVES when you use her hoodies or sweaters, even more so when you wear them to go out. Your styles sometimes clash quite a bit together, but seeing pieces that remind her of herself on you makes her heart flutter so much she can't help but kiss you all the time.

Nerd! Nat who, when the weather starts to get warmer, literally wears a short sleeved button up tucked in some bermuda pants, a bucket hat and birkenstocks with socks. True grandpa fashionista.

Nerd! Nat who loves keeping you company during her free periods. She sits next to you in class and is incredibly interested in the lessons you attend, considering you study something completely different than her, but she physically can't keep her eyes away from you for too long and often ends up distracted by all your little expressions as you write down your notes. (Of course she always ends up blushing when you catch her staring without fail.)

NSFW

Nerd! Nat who could instantly die the moment you wrap your hand around her neck while you ride her. Poor thing doesn't even know how to speak anymore and looks at you with teary eyes to silently beg you to give her more. It's even worse if you choke her while you rub your pussy on her hard cock until she pathetically cums all over her own stomach.

Nerd! Nat who gets a little embarrassed and blushy when you joke about giving her a rimjob because of how much she'd actually like you to do it. The first time it happens, she's sitting at the foot of the bed with her legs open while you kneel on the ground and it is probably one of the times she's cum the hardest in her life. She's a little shocked at first and she doesn't wanna do it again, but it only takes her a couple days to come back to you begging for more.

Nerd! Nat who looks up at you with doe eyes as you gently hold her chin to make her open her mouth and moans out loud when you spit her own cum into her mouth after sucking her off.

Nerd! Nat who tries to eat you out one time and is surprisingly SO good at it. She makes you cum so many times and is so addicted to your taste that you have to physically push her off after a while or you won't be able to walk for a week.

Nerd! Nat who (as the ass girl that she is) ends up with you lying on your stomach while she pushes her cock between your ass cheeks. At this point you love to see her desperate for you so much that you gladly let her do anything to you to get a show of her pretty face as she cums all over your ass.

Nerd! Nat who invites you over at her parents’ house for the weekend and can't help but get hard when she sees you in a bikini. You spend some time in the pool to chat with Yelena and once you get out, water dripping down your body, you notice Natasha's eyes widening before she runs inside. After drying up you find her in her bedroom, trying to calm down until her hard on goes away, but you have a better solution and jerk her off through her swim shorts, making her keep all of her cum in her trunks until you tell her so.

Taglist: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @fawnedolly

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ A Slip of the Tongue (Sevika x Reader) ✞⛧

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Brief mentions of intoxication and embarrassment, Slightly suggestive dialogue, Fluff with a hint of teasing…mommy kink-

You’re slumped at the corner of the bar in the Leaky Drop, nursing a drink that tastes far too bitter and burns far too much, but you’re already too deep into the bottle to care. Ricky, the guy you vaguely know from around, sits next to you, rambling about how life’s unfair and women are complicated. His words blur together in your head because the only thing you can focus on is the sheer mortification washing over you in waves.

You had called Sevika earlier. Big mistake. Huge.

You’d just wanted to check in—or maybe hear her voice—because drowning your feelings in alcohol wasn’t working. But in your drunken haze, the words that slipped from your lips were, “Miss you, mommy,” before you had the good sense to realize what you’d just said.

The line went silent.

You panicked and hung up, heart pounding, cheeks on fire, fully aware that you have never called her that before. Not even as a joke.

Now you’re spiraling, avoiding looking at your phone while Ricky drones on, and the alcohol starts dragging you under. You’re about to crash out right here at the bar because there’s no way in hell you can go home and face the consequences.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, slouched in the corner of the Leaky Drop like a statue of poor decisions. Ricky’s still talking—something about his ex and how she ran off with his neighbor—but you’re too far gone to care. Your focus flickers between the chipped edge of your glass and the phone sitting face down on the bar like it’s about to bite you.

You haven’t touched it since the call. Since you said that and hung up before Sevika could react.

A low groan escapes your lips as you drop your head onto your crossed arms. Why the hell did you think drinking would help? Better yet, why did you think calling her would help? She’s probably sitting in her apartment right now, replaying your drunken slip-up and wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

Or worse, she’s pissed.

The thought of Sevika being mad makes your stomach churn harder than the booze already has. You want to crawl into a hole and stay there until the memory evaporates—or until you die, whichever comes first.

Ricky nudges your shoulder. “You good? You look like someone just killed your dog.”

“Feel like someone did,” you mutter, voice muffled against your arms.

“Want me to call someone for you?”

You sit up abruptly, the movement making the room tilt. “Nope. Bad idea. No calls.”

Ricky shrugs and goes back to nursing his drink, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts. Just as you’re about to sink back into your personal hell, the sound of heavy boots hitting the wooden floor drags your attention toward the entrance.

Your heart stops.

It’s Sevika.

She looks as intimidating as ever, her trench coat swaying slightly as she strides toward the bar with purpose. Her sharp eyes lock onto yours instantly, and you know—you know—she’s here because of you.

Ricky whistles low. “Damn, she’s scary. You know her?”

“Unfortunately,” you mumble, sinking deeper into your seat.

She stops a few feet away, towering over you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes flick to the nearly empty bottle beside you, then to Ricky, who wisely decides it’s time to find another place to sit.

“Out,” she says, jerking her head toward the door.

You blink. “What?”

“Out. Now.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Your legs feel like jelly as you slide off the stool, trying not to trip over your own feet as you follow her out into the cold Zaun air. The door shuts behind you with a sharp thud, and the silence is deafening.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You’re too busy bracing yourself for the scolding of a lifetime, staring down at the cracked pavement. But then Sevika steps closer, tilting her head slightly as if trying to get a better look at your face.

“You drunk?” she asks, her voice softer than you expected.

“Maybe,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. “I wasn’t—uh—I didn’t mean to call you. I mean, I did, but not like that. And the ‘mommy’ thing? Total accident. Just…slipped out.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and when you finally gather the courage to look at her, you’re met with an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“‘Mommy,’ huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

She chuckles—chuckles—and the sound sends a confusing mix of relief and embarrassment through you.

“Relax,” she says, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you. “It was…unexpected. But cute.”

Your hands drop, and you gape at her. “Cute?”

She shrugs, her smirk widening. “Yeah. Not something I thought I’d ever hear you say, but… I could get used to it.”

Your brain short-circuits. “Wait. Are you—are you serious right now?”

Her hand reaches out, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her expression softens, the playful edge giving way to something more genuine.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve had a rough night,” she says. “But if you wanna call me ‘mommy’ again when you’re sober…” She leans in, her voice dropping to a low murmur. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Your breath catches, and all you can do is nod, your cheeks burning hotter than ever.

“Good.” She steps back, her usual confidence sliding back into place. “Now, let’s get you home before you pass out on the street.”

You follow her silently, your mind reeling as you replay her words over and over again. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster after all.

[meanbossart]

Drizzt Do’Urden s basically a thing from the podcast/live dnd thing that Astarion's player/Voice actor made. Drizzt is a hella famous Drow singer/bard that Astarion is a huge fan boy of and made fanfiction for

EDIT: I know that Drizzt Do'Urden wasn't created for the podcast. I know that he's a ranger. I know that there are 80 books written about him. Good lord.

Was scrolling down my inbox (I'm still taking a little blog break until the new year, I appreciate everyone's patience) but I won't lie this one has been on my mind ever since the topic came up. Do I think the live DnD games are canonical? No, of course not. Neil isn't Astarion's writer and his knowledge about the character is limited to his interactions with said writer in the studio, and otherwise pretty much as valid as anyone else's whos played the game... HOWEVER.

Astarion did have 200 years worth of down-time whenever he wasn't seducing drunks at the pub or getting skinned and prodded on the dungeon floor. I doubt that the guy had the opportunity to hone in crafts or enjoy his hobbies, but Cazador couldn't keep all of them occupied 24 hours a day EVERY day. Astarion was exposed to common culture through the people he interacted with at the bars, he obviously knows who Drizzt Do'Urden is, as showcased in the game itself (he runs a dumb Drizzt joke through himself like a crazy person if you click his portrait enough.)

Anyway, my point is; either before, after, or throughout the process of working through the God's catalogue and begging salvation to each and every one, would Astarion indulge in a little escapism? News, books, folk tales, heroic figures...? Probably. I think most people would. And while he doesn't reveal much about his personal taste in partners, drow seems to be a race that he's fond of, at least aesthetically. He's also mentioned prince-like figures and youth.

I'm just picturing a poor, downtrodden Astarion collapsed in his stinky bunk-bed at night and fantasizing about a deep-voiced, charismatic drow and his big cat, who somehow hear word of the horrific injustices taking place inside a gothic abomination of a palace in the high-town of Baldur's Gate shortly before breaking through Cazador's stained-glass windows, lacerating him in ways far too gory to be in the man's character, before shortly sweeping him off his feet once taken by his unspeakable beauty. I don't think he imagines much of what happens past that point, I doubt Astarion finds himself and Drizzt Do'Urden to have much in common... But he sure has heard that he's handsome.

Would he have run this scenario - however thinly-veiled as a joke - through Dalyria in a particularly slow night, fully expecting her to laugh it off so he could continue saving face, only to instead be met to the most accidentally-patronizing little coo and "You know it's good to stay hopeful!" out of her that made Astarion want to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her in the middle of that pub? Probably. Did she casually try opening up conversation with him about Drizzt' antics whenever she heard something new about the folk hero? Occasionally. Is it cute? Only as much as it's horrifically sad, LOL.

Anyway. I bet she had a laugh after he brought Do'Urden's juiced up cousin home to meet the family. He's going to hear about this for the rest of eternity.

DU drow gets the "It's just an inside joke that got out of hand" version of the story, and he believes it! Because what about Drizzt Do'Urden could POSSIBLY appeal to his lover, after all.