#it was just a little self indulgent thing

[bro-atz]

sore all over

in which: san hates seeing you miserable during your period, and he wants to help any way he can.

pair: san/afab!reader

word count: 2.2k

content: smut, pwp, nicknames (baby), established relationship, lowkey kinda self-indulgent shhh, period sex, safe sex, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: thank you @k-hotchoisan @ja3hwa @temptaetions @flurrys-creativity @mercif4l for the input (and the validation i lowkey needed to write this lol)

Not going to lie, San was a little worried when you didn't get out of bed all day. Well, you technically did get up to drag yourself to the bathroom every so often, but then you immediately went back to bed. He knew that you were in a lot of pain because of your period, but he didn't realize that you were going to be completely out of commission that day.

Usually, your periods didn't hit you that hard, but this time around, it was like you were being stabbed in the uterus over and over again. Your entire body was aching like there was no tomorrow, and you truly thought it was going to be over for you because no matter what you did, you were in a world of pain. Hot packs didn't help, painkillers didn't help— nothing was working to alleviate your pain. So, you just curled yourself up into a ball and hugged a pillow to your body while burying your face in the pillow.

"Baby?" San asked as he approached you on the bed slowly from behind you. "Are you okay?"

"No," you mumbled into the pillow. "I wanna die."

"Don't say things like that, baby," San said with a frown.

"How about I kick you in the balls, then you talk?" you couldn't help but retort. "You would wanna die, too, wouldn't you?"

San shivered at the thought of anything hurting his crotch. He shook his head to keep himself from derailing from his original thought and said, "Well, I'm here to help you, baby. Can I do anything else to help you?"

You tried turning to face him, but your back was so sore that it hurt when you moved even a millimeter. Still laying on your side, you grunted in slight pain as you pulled your shirt up slightly and asked, "Can you massage my back for me please? My lower back?"

"Of course I can," San replied.

San knelt on the bed, his knees on either side of you at first as he waited for something, although you had no idea what until he spoke again.

"Shouldn't you lay on your stomach for me to massage your back, baby?"

You huffed in frustration, but before you could even contemplate turning, San said, "Never mind. Don't move— I think I can still massage you well from the side."

"You sure?"

"Yes, baby," San said as he left a light kiss on your temple. "I want you to feel comfortable."

San ended up lying on the bed right behind you, his warm hands resting on the small of your back. He pressed his thumbs into the dimples on your back, and you groaned. It was still painful, but the pressure from his thumbs did alleviate some of the pain, so it was worth the momentary suffering.

Every time San pressed his fingers into your back, you groaned and sighed, the massage actually working better than the hot pack did. You found yourself pushing your body towards his magic touch, sighs of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as his massage continued.

What you didn't realize, though, was that San was getting harder with every passing second because your moans were incredibly sensual. He knew that you were in pain and suffering because of your period, but he so badly wanted to fuck you in that moment because you sounded so fucking sexy to him with your constant moaning and groaning.

Now that the dull, throbbing pain in your back was slightly relieved, you felt your breasts get more sore. You dropped the pillow you were hugging to the floor and tried to massage your own breasts, but your hands were too weak to get the same level of pressure that San was using on your back. So, you asked, "Can you... Can you also massage my breasts, please?"

"Of course, baby. Whatever you want," San murmured.

San's hands slithered up your shirt, his palms resting flat on your ribs, his fingers brushing your underboob. As he hugged you from behind, he pulled you closer to him, your back flush against his chest. He then gripped your breasts gently, his fingers pressing into your sore breasts and starting to massage them. However, when you moaned in slight frustration, he immediately used more power and gripped your breasts tightly. As he did so, his fingers brushed past your nipples, making you moan loudly and erotically as hell. Embarrassed, you covered your mouth, your face heating up.

"That was so cute, baby," San teased as he buried his face in your hair. "Can you make that noise again for me? Please?"

"N-No. Shut up," you rejected.

Despite you rejecting him, San was determined to make you moan like that again.

"S-Sannie," you moaned when his fingers started pinching your nipples. "I-I'm really sensitive right now, baby..."

"Do you want me to stop, then?" he asked you, his breath tickling your neck and his low voice tickling your brain.

"God, no... Don't stop..."

San chuckled. He pinched the slightest bit harder before tugging on your nipple. You arched your back and sighed sensually as he continued to tug. You reached back for his head and ran your fingers through his hair. You gripped the roots of his hair and tugged his head back slightly whenever he rubbed your nipples in his fingers.

Your eyes began fluttering the more he massaged, and you completely closed your eyes when you felt him begin to leave small little kisses in the nook of your neck. You were thoroughly enjoying his massage and got sucked into your own little world of pleasure, only for your eyes to fly wide open when he pressed his pelvis into your ass.

"Sannie, you're turned on right now?" you couldn't help but giggle as you asked.

You managed to reach back and cup his clothed hard-on in your hand, the man moaning slightly as you did so. His breathing hitched as he replied, "How can I not be when I'm touching you like this... And while you're moaning like that...?"

Finally, thanks to his hard work, your soreness was relieved just enough for you to turn in his arms. You palmed his cock over his pants and whispered, "How about I help you with this, then? It's my turn to help you, after all."

"Actually," San said slowly before gulping nervously. "I think there's a way we can help each other out, baby..."

"What do you mean?"

You were honestly left completely shocked when San suddenly got up from the bed and disappeared from your bedroom. However, moments later, San returned with a couple of towels and a condom.

"Do you think you can get off the bed for a second, baby?" San asked you.

"W-What— You can't be serious right now, San," you said in disbelief, your eyes wide.

"I read online that having sex on your period should help with your cramps," he explained to you.

"But— Won't the blood freak you out?" you questioned.

"It's a natural thing, baby. Why would I be freaked out?"

"It'll get all over you, and it'll stain the bed sheets! Also, it's dirty—"

"That's what the condom and towels are for," he interrupted you. "Don't worry, baby. We don't have to if you don't want to, but I think we could at least try it out."

Honestly, you had read the same information online about the benefits of having sex on your period, and it did cross your mind to ask your boyfriend to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but you didn't think he would be open to having sex when you were bleeding; so him being so willing to have sex with you on your period without you even asking kind of freaked you out a bit, and you would've probably pushed back a little harder had it not been for your hormones turning you on earlier when he was massaging your breasts.

You agreed, and San immediately set up the bed. He laid the towels down on the bed and removed the comforter and pillows to make sure they wouldn't accidentally get stained. He had you strip down to nothing before having you lay down on the bed.

As you laid on the towels, you were already worried about bleeding onto them, and you couldn't help but fidget. Noticing the slightly stressed look on your face, San quickly removed his own clothes and rolled the condom on his twitching, hard cock before straddling you. His fingers held your chin gently, forcing you to look at him as he lowered his body onto yours.

"Baby, don't think about it as blood. Think of it as lube, only red," he said calmly. "And if you're so worried about the color, then just close your eyes, okay?"

With a soft exhale, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut as San got closer to you, his lips meeting yours. He kissed you softly and slowly, your mind melting as his kisses got more sensual. You didn't have a single care or worry with the way San was kissing you in that moment, and you were so out of touch from everything else that you didn't realize he was rubbing the tip of his cock along your cunt.

San pushed his cock into you slowly but easily, his cock filling you up. You moaned against his lips, your hands clutching the towels underneath you as you started unintentionally getting nervous again. As a result, you couldn't help but clench your cunt, and of course, San felt your nervousness.

"Baby," San interrupted your chain of kisses with a soft sigh. "Relax..."

His hands reached for your arms. He brought them up and laced his fingers with yours. He kissed you again, and when he felt your cunt finally relax, he started moving. His waist rolled into yours slowly, and the dull pain you felt earlier started melting away thanks to the friction from his cock. You couldn't help but sigh with relief the more he moved in and out of you.

"You feeling better, baby?" San asked you, his forehead pressing against yours.

"A little bit, yeah," you admitted softly.

"Then, can I move a little faster?"

San lifted his face so he could look into your eyes. You opened your eyes and nodded before closing your eyes again— technically, San was blocking your line of sight, but you were still worried that you were going to see red, so you closed them again. San buried his face in the nook of your neck, his breath hitting your collarbone. He started rutting into you a little faster, making you sharply inhale and moan while exhaling.

The wet sound of his waist meeting yours repetitively was honestly freaking you out a little bit. No matter how you tried to think about it, you knew that the wet sound was not your arousal or lube, but before you could spiral thinking about it, San moved his lips to your ear, and he started whispering sweet nothings into your ear, drowning out the sound of him fucking you.

Your entire body started shifting along the towels as San not only sped up but started thrusting harder. He let go of your hands to hook his arms under your legs, pushing them upwards, easing the strain on your lower back as he quite literally bent you in half. You could hear him grunting and moaning softly in your ear with every thrust; you could tell he was close, and honestly, you didn't realize you were as well until he grabbed your breasts again.

San intentionally rubbed his fingers against your nipples, the pleasure from how sore they were building rapidly within you. It was when San rammed his hips into yours as hard as he could, hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock, did you cum. You moaned loudly and pushed your head back while arching your back as you came, San's cock still buried inside you.

As you came, you clenched your cunt tightly, giving San's cock the right amount of pressure for him to cum as well. He moved up so he could hold your waist tightly and thrust a couple more times into your cunt. He groaned and sighed, meeting your same decibel as he filled the condom he had on his cock with his seed. Hs cock twitched and throbbed inside you as he finished, and he dropped his head back into the nook of your neck.

The two of you were breathing heavily at that point. You remained in a puddle on the bed as San got up to take the condom off and properly dispose of it before returning to your side. He wiped his fingers on one of the towels as you finally reopened your eyes to look right into his eyes, still afraid to see the damage done from him fucking you during your period.

"We should get cleaned up, baby," San said. "Why don't I help you?"

San tucked his arms beneath your back and legs, lifting you off the bed. You held onto his shoulders as he walked you to the bathroom.

"Besides," he continued. "We could always go for round two in the shower. Right, baby?"

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[logansluvr]

TASTE

LOGAN HOWLETT x F!READER

SUMMARY : You won’t admit it, but it stung when you realized you were just a placeholder while Logan waited for Jean AGAIN. Now that she has him, she realizes that no matter how hard she tries there will always be you somewhere on him…Or Jean and Logan both fucked themselves over while you enjoy the aftermath.

WARNING : description of mutant powers (all things nature), angst, more angst, Jean slander (sorry), suggestive content, nothing deeper than a make out, hurt/slight comfort, some Logan slander (ily), Logan has some self reflection time, love triangle??square???

basically I was listening to taste and this sparked in my head and now it won’t leave me alone…

I heard you're back together and if that's true

you'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you

IN ALL HONESTY SOMEWHERE IN THE BACK OF your mind you knew it was coming. It was nice to indulge in the fantasy though. You indulged in it as an ode to your past self ( you from a year ago ) when you realized that what you thought of Logan was more than a crush. The opportunity presented itself so sinfully you thought it had to be some sort of hallucination.

You couldn’t say no, after all you still had that ode to your past self and deep down you felt…comforted. Comforted in the fact that Logan had thought about you in that way — though that thought diminished soon enough.

At first it was nice, Logan treated you right even if there was something a little off about it. He took you out on occasion, made you laughed, hell he even laughed with you.

There was a point after three months where he began to not mind falling asleep in your bed — even if he acted a little colder the day after it happened.

There were nights when he would be extra tense after a small rescue mission, or after something happened during the day.

He’d take it out on you by burying himself inside of you, biting down on your chest in places clothes covered — other times he’d just bury his head between your thighs taking his time in making you fall apart over and over.

But after nights like those he wouldn’t even look you in the eyes directly. It seemed that only a half a year into your relationship you realized something odd. Certain people in the halls would stare at you with pity, Scott Summers barely looked you in the eyes and even the professor seemed like each word he said to you he was internally wincing.

It was only one night after a particularly rough mission that you had pieced most of it together. Once you were in your room you recalled the high tension between Scott, Jean, and Logan. Most of the time you felt like you a Ororo were missing a big piece of something — especially with the way they’d all go at each other.

You were grateful he had the decency to tell you rather than ignore you, you weren’t even paying attention. Too busy trying to hold back tears — ones you were confused on having.

He muttered something along the lines of you being too young and he just isn’t ready for something like that. You didn’t care, it was a bunch of bullshit. You didn’t need telepathy to know that.

Once he shut the door behind him you had walked to the shower, turned it on, stepped inside with your clothes on, and cried. For a minute you didn’t even realize why you were crying until you had the realization that it was because you felt more for him than you initially let yourself believe.

The days after that everyone sensed the tension, Logan tried to act normal. You however, you just simply brushed him off — he didn’t need to know that he had seriously fucked with your mental. You were going to act normal, act like it didn’t affect you.

It was bad enough the professor looked at you with sympathy the day after your crying session.

On the bright side he fixed your schedule around so you’d see less of Logan.

The week following the breakup you realized he hadn’t even waited that long before he was already crowding Jean — that’s when you realized it wasn’t one big coincidence Scott was meaner at the same time Logan was crowding the Dr.

You had unfortunately turned down the hallway about a week and a half after the breakup, patting a student on the shoulder after they had bombarded you with questions. You were going to meet Scott, his next class in coordination with yours.

But as you glanced at the end of the hall you saw him. Standing next to her, arm on the wall as he smiled down at her. Staring like she was the only thing in the room — you could almost hear the swish of the trees outside, an affect from the anger simmering beneath you.

Thankfully someone stepped out of the classroom you were about to enter. It was one about halfway down the hall, and it seemed to draw both your attention and the attention of couple practically eye fucking at the end of the hallway.

Scott glanced at them, thankful for his sunglasses so they couldn’t see the glare on his face before he turned towards you. Clenching his jaw he walked towards you, handing you the lesson plan he had worked up.

You were far too busy reading over the sheet to notice the gaze burning holes into your back — but Scott wasn’t. And as he glanced over his shoulder he found Logan Howlett staring directly at you.

And a Jean grey staring at him staring at you.

It was only about three weeks after the breakup when something seemed to change. You hadn’t truly been feeling better but you were getting there — busying yourself with other things. Working more on your abilities and working on your training.

You were none the wiser to the situation happening between the two people you’d successfully stopped feeling hatred for. You stopped the avoidance thing about two weeks after the breakup, the mansion was big but not that big.

While it didn’t outwardly bother you that much, other people seemed to notice a tense thing between the couple anytime you were in the vicinity.

There was a day when it seemed like everything went from bad to worse between them. It was a nice day outside and Jean found herself in Logan’s arms, holding onto him whilst his lips pressed against hers.

Her hands were tangling in his hair whilst they swapped whatever DNA they were hoping to swap. And when they pulled away to catch their breath her eyes remained closed, a small furrow in her brow as her tongue ran over her lips.

If someone were to ask her, she’d say she was hallucinating.

Because she could’ve sworn she tasted cherry lipgloss on Logan’s lips — cherry lipgloss she didn’t own.

Yet as her tongue darted out to lick her lips again, it was gone. Her eyes cracking open to find Logan’s gaze over her shoulder, and when she spun around to glance at what had got his attention there you were.

There you always were.

Oblivious to the fact that Logan was watching you. Oblivious to the fact that wherever you showed up he seemed to only look at you the way he used to look at Jean. Oblivious to the fact that all you had to do was enter the same room and all of the sudden his attention was on you.

And it wasn’t on purpose, cause there was a moment where your mental forces had slipped and she probed. And when she dug deeper she only find pure oblivion, it made it all the harder to spite you.

She could ignore if she wanted too, and she tried. For a while. But every-time she kissed him, there was that lingering feeling of tasting cherry lipgloss.

The same cherry lipgloss she watched you apply in a mirror in the hallway.

And she swore your perfume lingered on him even if it had been weeks since you’d been within five feet of him.

Every time you close your eyes

And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

And every time you breathe his air

Just know I was already there

this was short Ik but I’m currently crying because I had a smut with over 6.k words and HALF OF IT DIDNT SAVE?!??!?

anyways <33 taglist??

[hyunebunx]

💛 w/ felix please!!

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333

Sunsets were your absolute favorite.

It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.

Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.

Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”

Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”

You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”

“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.

The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.

“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.

Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”

Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.

You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.

Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.

“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”

His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.

You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.

The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.

“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.

You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”

Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.

Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.

There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.

When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.

The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.

And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 

[lavenderspence]

unexplained sadness | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K

Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron

Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.

A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕

You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins. 

But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while. 

And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.

The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness. 

Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all. 

It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing. 

Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner. 

The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes. 

You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume. 

But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft. 

You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known. 

Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing. 

Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes. 

You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.

Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way. 

You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch. 

You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making. 

The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all. 

Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself. 

You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light. 

Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was. 

“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.

“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.

A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both. 

“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind. 

“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.  

“You’re not doing well.” 

You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”

“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it. 

“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.

Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself. 

You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.” 

“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too. 

“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else. 

He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling. 

He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same. 

You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with. 

And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned. 

In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow. 

It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.

For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not. 

For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were leaving instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that. 

You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist. 

“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner. 

He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth. 

“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice. 

A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years. 

“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.

You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed. 

“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.

“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.

“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.

“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress. 

He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely. 

You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more. 

The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process. 

You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.

[themeraldee]

I feel like Homelander would be caught off guard by southern mannerisms in the way that nicknames and pet names are given out very easily. Like reader is a new stylist or something and Homelander doles out a rare compliment and she just beams. "Well aren't you just a sweet thing, thank you Hun"

"Well aren't you just a sweet thing, thank you hun."

Homelander is caught off guard by your earnest words, a genuine sparkling smile on your face while you spritz his hair with a bit of hairspray.

He's used to saying similar words condescendingly. So to have you say it so genuinely and with such honest politeness totally throws him off.

People who work for him are usually annoying, either spewing out fake pleasantries or they're jittery, all scared and walking on eggshells. Either way you're different.

In his eyes this gives you good motherly qualities he's very much drawn towards. The kind of southern hospitality and attitude that just makes him want to please you just so you praise him and tell him what a sweetheart he's being all over again.

It becomes a routine anytime he sits in the dressing chair. He stares at you through the mirror in front of him already giving you a beaming smile.

And there you go again.

"Well ain't you just a ray of sunshine today. What got you all happy?"

"Just having a good day." He shrugs, melting into your hands gliding through his hair, separating the strands to see what you're working with.

Or another day you hit him with a "Well, don’t you look like a million bucks today!"

And already he's puffing his chest out, squaring his shoulders so you see him in the best of lights. And does he purr under your care... You may just be touching up his hair a bit or styling it either softly or more professionally, depending on the event Vought brought you in to style him for. However, to him it's pure self-indulgent pampering as you softly run your fingers through his hair, giving him killer scalp massages. You always take care to make him comfortable and happy.

And you're not blind. He's being painfully obvious in his growing attraction towards you.

That's why you dare to stop him before he heads out to the stage. And you pull him in placing a soft kiss on his cheek, careful not to disturb the make-up he's had put on for the camera.

"Go get ‘em, sugar, I know you’ll do great."

And he's flustered. Looking away, the-tips-of-his-ears-red kind of flustered. It's an event like any other. Like he's done thousands of times yet now it feels like his entire life depends on it.

"You betcha." He gives you a salute and a little wink and with that he's off to, for once, give the next public appearance his all. Juuust in case you're watching.

[quaithe-seastar]

Let The Light In

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: You try to help Aemond relax when the world outside your shared bedroom becomes too much for him to handle.

Warnings: slight angst & fluff

A/N: This fic is incredibly self-indulgent, as I am deeply infatuated with Aemond's hair. No beta, so I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes!

The soothing, gentle sound of crackling wood from the fireplace echoed in the air. The shadows of the flames danced along the walls of your and Aemond’s shared bedchamber. Lately, though, it seems like it’s just yours. Your husband had decided to sleep in his own private quarters for the past week. Something that perturbed you deeply. 

This week has been filled with the most restless nights you've had in years, leaving you thoroughly exhausted. You had grown quite accustomed to sleeping in Aemond’s strong arms. The two of you had never spent a night apart since your wedding night two years ago. The marriage had been arranged, of course, but the two of you had quickly become besotted with each other. 

Has your spark faded so soon?

You took a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. Surely, you were just overthinking things. Aemond had his hands full with the threat of war looming on the horizon. It made sense that he would have little time for you. That was just something you would have to learn to accept.

You let your eyelids fall closed as you continue to run the brush through your hair. The day had quickly come and gone. The hour of ghosts was quickly approaching. You prayed that sleep would come easier tonight. Your poor mind and body craved a peaceful night's rest.

You jump on the small cushion bench you have been sitting on as your bedroom door slams open and closed—Aemond storms into the room. You watch quietly as he paces the room, mumbling angrily in high valyrian. You try to gauge what he is saying, but he is talking too quietly and far too quickly for you to understand. Even with the lessons Aemond and Maester Orwyle have given you over the past year and a half, it was nearly impossible to comprehend Aemond when he spoke so quickly.

You call him, but he ignores you. So you try again, this time much louder. His back is turned to you. You watch as he slowly turns, his eye wandering about the room as if it were some foreign place. You squirm in your seat when his gaze finally falls upon you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I thought I had gone to my room.”

Your heart sinks at the thought that he no longer considers this his room.

“It is yours, just as much as it is mine,” you shrug.

“Of course,” he mutters sheepishly, shuffling his weight back and forth on his feet.

“Has something happened?” You ask, hoping to draw him into a conversation before he tries to flee.

With an exasperated sigh, Aemond moved to the bed, sitting at the edge. He clenched the blanket tightly in his hands. The two of you sit in silence. You have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from badgering him with questions. He’ll never talk if you do that. The minutes feel like hours, but soon, he speaks.

“My mother is angry with me,” he says quietly. 

I should have known, you thought. You were well aware of the strain growing between your husband and good-mother since he had returned from Storm’s End. Since the murd- the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Your heart aches for your husband. You know how close Aemond was to his mother and how much she meant to him. No doubt, the distance between them was significantly affecting him.

“She blames me for starting this war. As if she and my father's council have not been plotting to usurp the throne for years,” he scoffed.

His voice was laced with anger and frustration. You want nothing more than to go to him. To reach out and soothe him, but you're afraid he will leave. This was the most time he had spent with you in a week. You were desperate for his attention.

“The realm is preparing for a war the likes of which Westeros has never seen. She is afraid.”

“Aren’t we all?” He snickered.

The two of you sat in silence. Aemond rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. He seemed so small, almost like a child. Your heart grew heavy, weighed down by your worry and concern for your sweet husband. You wanted to help him, but you did not know how—or if he would even let you.

Your fingers twitch, curling around the brown wooden brush handle in your hand. You look down at it. A smile spreads across your lips as an idea finally comes to mind. You turn around, placing the brush down on the table before turning back towards him.

“Come here,” your soft voice cuts through the silence. You beckon Aemond closer with your hand.

Aemond lifts his head. The man looks at you apprehensively, his eye flickering towards the door. For a moment, you fear he will run, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gives you a slight nod and pushes himself up from the bed. You stand just as he’s about to reach you and quickly step aside. You gesture towards the cushioned bench, instructing him to sit. He hesitates but follows your instructions.

 Aemond sits up tall on the bench, his body tense and rigid. His violet eye watches you in the mirror as you step behind him.

“May I?” You ask, gesturing to his eyepatch.

His face goes pale, and for a moment, you regret asking. Perhaps you were overstepping. Though before you can apologize, he nods his head. Your heart skips a beat, overjoyed that he still trusted you enough to see him like this. You have to stop yourself from smiling like a fool.

You try to steady your trembling fingers as you loosen the eyepatch strap. Your eyes flicker towards the mirror. He isn’t looking at you anymore. Instead, his violet eye is closed. He flinched, and his brows knit together as you pulled the eyepatch off his head. You freeze, unsure if you hurt him or he is just uncomfortable. It had been years since he had lost his eye, but it still caused him some discomfort.

“Are you alright?” You asked. 

He blinks, eye flickering towards you. He watches you, no doubt waiting for some sign of disgust or repulsion. But you give him none; you never have. In your eyes, he was perfection. You do your best to look at him with all of the genuine concern and admiration that you can muster.

“I-,” his voice cracked. He blushed and quickly cleared his throat. 

“I’m fine.” He answered, more assuredly this time.

You nod, leaning over his shoulder to carefully place the eyepatch on the table. Your finger moved back to his hair, gently tugging on the tie that held his hair away from his face. Thankfully, it slips off with ease. His hair falls forward, curtaining around his face. 

You gather the hair off his neck, drawing it onto his back. A soft sigh escapes him as your fingers graze against the sensitive skin of his neck.

You reach over his shoulder again, picking up the brush you had been using moments ago. His single eye falls closed as the brush touches his head. You go slowly, trying to be careful of any knots and tangles, though there are none. The brush skims through his silver tresses with ease. You find yourself growing envious, thinking of all the times you and your handmaids have had to wrestle with your hair. 

His hair shines like beaten silver under the candlelight. The sight is almost hypnotic. You continue with your work, letting the brush run through his silver strands again and again. Little by little, his facade crumbles, and his body relaxes under your touch. After a while, you put the brush back on the table. 

You massage his scalp with your fingertips. Aemond’s head is tilted back just a bit, and a soft hum echoes from his throat. The sound reminds you of a cat purring. You smile, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Carefully, you remove your fingers from his hair before brushing through it one more time.

“Would you like me to braid it?” You ask.

“Yes, please,” he answers.

You nod and get to work. You don’t do anything too extravagant, just a simple three-strand braid. Once you are finished, you lean down and press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“All done,” you smile.

“Thank you,” he replies, sleepily.

You expect him to get you and leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he spins around on the bench. His large hands gently take hold of your hips, pulling you a bit closer.

“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that you almost missed it.

“For what, my love?” You ask, gently caressing the side of his face with your fingertips.

“For this ... distance between us.”

“Oh,” you hum. “It’s fine. I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“That’s not an excuse,” he mumbles. “I have been-”

You shush him and place a gentle kiss on his scarred brow. “All is forgiven.”

His lips part as he prepares to argue, but he doesn’t. He closed them and nodded, silently thanking you for your forgiveness. Silence takes over the room again, but it’s more comfortable this time. Aemond rubs circles on your hips, through your thin nightdress, with his thumbs.

“Perhaps I shall rest here tonight?” He suggests, avoiding your gaze.

“I would like that,” you smile.

Aemond stands, and you help him undress before the two of you make your way back to your shared bed. Your husband climbs into the bed after you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your back is pressed against his bare chest, and almost immediately, you can feel your mind at ease.

“I love you,” he whispers against your hair.

You try to say it back but cannot, as sleep pulls you away from the waking world. You squeeze his hand in yours and hope he understands.

[jaykesgirly]

Park Jongseong fluff/comfort blurb

bf!Jay x injured reader

warnings: angst? I don't really know but if you get emotional reading this that's why that warning is there. Also mentions of surgery

a/n: this is completely fully self-indulgent and a very niche topic based on my personal experience LMFAO I just needed to get it out into writing so if you don't get the appeal to it or relate or whatever, this was your heads up. I also just do not know how to title this at all so here we go

I can see Jay being very present in terms of helping you recover from a severe injury like an ACL tear (like I said this is very niche). The recovery from that surgery takes months of rehabilitation and those first few weeks are absolute hell to go through. Jay would do his very best to help you in any way, especially when you are still on crutches.

Since you can barely do anything yourself, he offers to take you anywhere you need to be (pretend he can drive LOL), cook for you, clean if you need to, and help you get around the house. He would be very attentive to your needs, often doing things for you without asking since you're passed out on your bed in hopes the pain dies down even the tiniest bit. The constant reassurance this man will give you that it is okay to ask for help (especially if you're the hyper-independent type) is astronomical; he just wants to make sure you know that he is there for you and always will be.

However, sometimes it can get a little too overbearing. You just had most of your life stripped away from you with this injury and surgery, so sometimes it's harder to accept help from someone in response to wanting to feel like things are normal. Not wanting to overstep, Jay will take a step back as needed, but he will never fully leave you to yourself. There are too many emotions running through your head and he doesn't want to leave you alone to dwell on them. Instead, he lets you vent out your frustrations (even if it involves throwing your crutches to the floor) and offers to help in any way once you have cooled down.

Jay will also be there for you if you need a shoulder to cry on. Again, this recovery is difficult, and many emotions come with it. Your life had just been turned upside down for the absolute worst and sometimes you just need to sob it out. Instead of telling you everything will be okay, Jay would let you talk everything out first and then let you know everything you feel is valid. He is your biggest supporter, and he wants to see you push through this injury no matter how difficult it may be. Jay will always be there for you through the angry, sad, and somewhat happy moments of this recovery.

Especially through the rehabilitation process. Once you start reaching milestones in your physical therapy, he will always find ways to celebrate them with you. After the first major one, walking without crutches, he took you to a beautiful park where you two shared a lovely picnic date. Since then Jay made it his goal to celebrate each major or minor step in this recovery, and you were thankful to have such a loving partner to help you through it.

a/n: sorry if this is messy as fuck I genuinely just used this as a way to escape my own thoughts LMFAO but I hope you enjoyed it? I don't even know anymore. also, this isn't proofread so if there are errors it's because I really just word vomited everything.

[flownwrong]

chaotic ckr c6d squee propaganda (?) post

This, started half a year ago for @ds30below, was initially a general c6d short reviews post but kinda skewed majorly towards CKR's repertoire and wasn't too review-y. So I gave up on making sense and on including the non-CKR works. I don't know who the audience for this is, because I never give basic details for people who don't know about this stuff but say too much for those who do. I giffed what I could and tried to avoid what I know a lot about but haven't actually seen. Here goes.

Frank's Cock (1993)

Not much to say. It's only 8 minutes, it's beautiful and you should see it if you haven't. I won't spoil the subject, but you can likely guess. Watch it, cry a little. Then go watch some more of Mike Hoolboom's stuff, the vimeo link above is from his channel.

Two X-Files episodes (1994 – 1995)

Well, I haven't actually seen X-files since I was about fifteen and watched the like two seasons, and I remember none of it. I rewatched the two early episodes CKR appears in and they were fun. I did not watch the, the movie or whatever where he's doing the evil gay thing. But really, this one is on the list so I can show you this self-indulgent gif of him being Very Long:

Double Happiness (1994)

You shouldn't watch this one for CKR. I mean, you absolutely should see him here, looking like he's barely out of his teens and playing up the insecure act and having devastating chemistry with devastatingly beautiful Sandra Oh, but this is not why it's great. And it's really, really great. It's touching and funny and sincere. If you wanna have some feels about complicated family relationships and identity and growing up (at any point in life), you'll find them here.

Curtis's Charm (1995)

Don't regret watching it, can't recommend. Not gonna lie, I was emotionally affected. But I usually am by things as in-your-face bleak as this. Mostly, it's trying very hard to be smarter than it is, I think.

However: CKR's One Wild Curl is everything to me (see above, on the right. It was, like, actually curly. I was rendered speechless). And like two seconds of Hugh Dillon made me do a double-take, lol. Incredibly weird knowing this was shot like half a year before HCL began shooting. Feels like it must've been a decade earlier.

Hard Core Logo (1996)

I could make three separate posts about this one, so of course I have no idea what to say.

This one, you should watch for CKR, actually, he's something, but so is every single other aspect of this film. I wouldn't change a thing about it. It hits you like a 16 wheeler. Perfectly cast, unimaginably beautiful, hysterical and melancholy and disgusting and compelling.

Related recs:

A wonderfully fun article/retrospective/interview for its 20th anniversary a while back.

You should also absolutely read Hard Core Roadshow if you enjoyed the film. It's a book documenting the whole thing from conception to release. It touched me for its own sake, not just a backstage glance, full of love for the craft and the people and carrying this tangible bittersweetness about the heightened and fleeting nature of this kind of work.

(here, I feel compelled to include a quote from another c6d-related interview on Slings & Arrows, which I read after the book and went like man, it's really a universal experience isn't it.

Coyne: <...> But I also think, and this is my experience, what we were all experiencing, because we were all talking about our lives, our life in the arts — there’s something very melancholy about doing something you love, because it will never be good enough, it will always break your heart.

McKinney: Or it will be fleeting.

Coyne: It’ll be fleeting. You come together with people you feel passionately connected to and two weeks later they’re tearing down the sets.)

Quotes from the article and the book respectively include:

McDonald: So there was a kind of mutual dependency society with Hugh telling Callum, “Don’t worry, man, I got your back, I’ll tell you how high or low to wear your guitar, I’ll tell you how you should dress, I’ll tell you what you should drink…” and Callum was like, “I’ll tell you what hitting your mark is, I’ll tell you why they pull out fucking tape measures, I’ll tell you why you have to do it again, I’ll tell you about not overlapping dialogue..” and you know they clung to each other, like the other one was gonna fucking save them.

And:

A final gathering at the back of the tour bus with Bruce, Callum, Hugh, Bernie. We listen to the tape of HCL songs, all the way through, one last time. And we belt the words out. Bernie sings loudest, performing for Salerno's camera. Hugh and Callum sit back, looks of sadness. I get the sense that if they could do it, they'd chuck their lives and be Joe Dick and Billy Tallent forever. Callum leans to Bruce and says exactly what everyone else is thinking: "I don't want it to end."

There's much more to both texts than *gestures* the whatever those two had, but it certainly doesn't hurt.

And Xeriscape is the best HCL fic I've read. Granted, I read very few because it's not a source that creates in me a craving for fic. But this one perfectly matches the film's fucked up beauty with its language while also adding a quieter, more fraught layer of humanity that we only get glimpses of in canon and that perfectly fits John. 10/10, would recommend.

Anyway. Watch it. Read it. If you haven't. Otherwise, come scream with meeee! And go reblog my gifs or something. Idk.

Letters From Home (1996)

Mike Hoolboom strikes again, with another short. This goes into the "don't watch it for CKR, watch it because it's great" box. Yes, you will cry.

For Those Who Hunt The Wounded Down (1996)

Another bleak one! It sucked to watch, I mean, on purpose. There were a couple of very effective scenes. I really enjoyed the opening. They say the book is decent too, I haven't checked that out.

Actually, let's just switch back from coherent thought to undignified staring at his mouth with this one. What the fuck is that cigarette thing. I couldn't help myself.

Last Night (1998)

These gifs are not representative of the whole movie. There is more happening than CKR kissing or hugging people. He's also doing more than just kissing and hugging. It's all very... impressive.

Guess who's also here again? Sandra Oh! And say hi to Don McKellar, who is an absolute champion for writing/directing/starring. You'll be seeing more of him.

Another one for the "watch it for its own sake" box. Seriously, that late 90s indie stuff is banger after banger. It's so beautiful! Look at those colours! Look at those shots! It's very uneasy and charming and melanchioly and itself in the best way.

Twitch City (1998 – 2000)

Don McKellar is back to murder you with discomfort! Bruce McDonald lends a hand. Molly Parker is also here. And Daniel McIvor, who'd go on to direct, for example, Wilby Wonderful. It's a party. If you watched some stuff from above (or below) on this list, most faces and names will be familiar to you, tbh (another Hugh Dillon double-take happens).

If you liked Spaced, you'll love this. You might also love it because it commits to its weirdness with an admirable resolve and is genuinely hilarious. (Honestly, CKR's outfits alone warrant a watch.) The idiosyncrasy is definitely Don McKellar's doing 200%. It couldn't be more different from Last Night, but if you've seen one, you'll recognise the other.

Battlestar Galactica (2003 – 2009)

I don't think a person should be allowed to look this pretty in the sweaty-and-dying makeup in that light (this sentence probably looks very weird to those not under the CKR magic spell).

I don't know what to say about BSG because I really, really enjoyed early it initially, but by the middle of S2 it got... well, whatever that was. If you know you know, if you don't, still give it a go. You might get invested enough to suffer through it all, as I have been, slowly.

The unfortunate thing is that CKR got to be there mostly in the "what the fuck" years and not the "wow that's so cool" years. That, as you might be aware, is a pattern with him. But! When he was here, he was so genuinely, wonderfully creepy not in the typecast-baddy way, but in this slow, half-absent way, which really worked. You can also see him tortured a little, as a treat!! <3

Also, a wild John Pyper-Ferguson appears! If you're looking at him thinking you know him from somewhere but not immediately remembering, you'll figure it out, I believe in you. I was very happy to see him.

Wilby Wonderful (2004)

Another win for the put CKR in more good shit team!!! Guess who's here again? Sandra Oh! Also, Paul Gross. Don't watch it for him either though haha.

Another one for whoever wants to look at pushing against the weight of others' (or your own) expectations and growing into who you are or reconsidering who you are or finding meaningful connections with others even when you're kind of a mess and they are too.

Not nearly the first time CKR's gotten to play a queer character, but man, this one really is the heart of the in-universe community, and, through that, of the film. A rare chance to see him so far out of the prickly persona! He's just so solid and calm and there for others in this one and, and soft, ough. It's awesome.

By the way, if any of you have the commentary track or know someone who has, please drop me a line here or on discord (emotionalrisotto), I really wanna hear that.

Supernatural (2005)

I love Supernatural a lot. It was a formative experiences (albeit a very late one) and I owe a lot of my favourite stuff about fandom-ing to the buddies I met through it. I can't believe I'm telling you this (because who hasn't seen it, not because I'm reccing it), but you should really try it if you haven't. It's pretty rad.

I had no idea who this guy was when I saw that episode (the second ever one!), though. I simply cannot fathom what @nigeltde-fic felt when she first saw it. I think I personally got very lucky she didn't combust on the spot. It would've been unfortunate.

On a sillier note, CKR's character has weird tension with both Sam and Dean in this episode, which is par for the course. I personally think they should've... no, I shan't say it. You can probably imagine.

Californication (2008 – 2013)

I haven't actually seen it, lol (and I suspect I won't enjoy it, but I'm very curious and also CKR looks really really good).

The real reason for this one on the list is to share a fic rec. Really, it's a due South F/K fic featuring Lew Ashby. It's ridiculously hot and very satisfying in its romantic resolution, too (but then, I'm kind of big on selfcest. And consensual voyeurism. And pretend relationships when done like this. And sublimated yearning. Erm.)

Shattered (2010 – 2011)

I wish this never happened. I badly, badly wish this never happened. I can't turn back time, but I can warn those luckier than me: do not go there. Yes, even for this dude. You'll sleep better not knowing just what it is he was the EP on. And the only important part — the mascara — can be seen above (yes, the show does look that bad, it's not just the gifs).

Just kidding — I watched it, didn't I? You'll have fun hating it! Just prepare for industrial grade cringe, lower your expectations (No, lower. No, still lower than that. And just a bit more.) and you'll have a great time!

Star trek: Discovery (2024)

Or, as I call it, Star Trek: The Mediocre Show. Discovery S5 was... what it was, but it was a wonderful viewing experience — mostly thanks to the gang (@kittkatk and @feroxargentea especially!)

What a joy it is, to follow a show week by week, yelling and laughing and discussing the whole time. And giffing, too. I was very happy to contribute to the Disco fandom from my own little obsessive corner, and I was glad to see people adoring Rayner, haha.

He's a pretty neat character — very much a stereotype, yes, but with CKR's usual twist of odd vulnerability and weirdness. Also, I loved the ears. I miss the ears. The ears were great.

I even wrote a fic! Although it's not within my usual range to write for canons and universes I don't know well — and back then, I'd only seen S5 of Disco. It was a lot of suffering, and a lot of fun.

Closing thoughts

I'd really love the dude to get a better agent. And possibly better taste, but I realise that's a tougher ask. Seriously, it's been too long since he was in something majorly cool. I'm grateful to him, at least, for not making terrible music on the side. And I still have a lot of his back catalogue to get through, some of it even good, so there will be more insanity. Until then!

[dreamsky-sapphi]

Nanamahi brainrots

All my comments on each point below <3

Template by @ustfile (twitter)

Note: I mainly focus on Nanamahi here ⬇️

• Easily Jealous / Too Careless

Even with Nana i think Mahiru would easily still be jealous.

Not in the same way she was with Karen, but in more of a "i have a special relationship with Nana" so she can't help but feel a bit of jealousy when she sees Nana with someone else, except if it's Junna. Despite this jealousy, she wouldn't do or say anything about it, but I think Nana may guess it and find it a little amusing and tease her about it in private.

For Nana, no matter if we consider that she is still not over Junna or not, I think she would still feel possessive over Mahiru, and wouldn't hesitate to show it more than Mahiru would, things such as just approaching from behind with a bright smile like she seems to do everytime she feels threatened.

• Destroys everything to have you / Kills you to save the world

Mahiru would lean more towards sacrificing Nana for the sake of everyone. Of course she cares about Nana but she cares about everyone more, bc she knows that at this point it is almost impossible to convince Nana out of her mindset. She knows how Nana thinks so she would know what would be best in the end.

Nana probably would lean more on sacrificing everything else if she was at a point where she feels like she lost everything, but I didn't put her to the extreme bc Mahiru isn't the one in her heart, and she still cares about everyone else.

• I don't deserve any of this / I deserve to be with you

Nana thinks of herself as some kind of monster, even if she craves love like anyone else. But I don't think she'd ever think she deserves any sort of sympathy.

Mahiru just has terribly low self-esteem and would rather put others before herself in any situation.

• Would revive you if you died / Leaves you to die anyway

I'm not entirely sure for this one, I just think that above everything else, they are both too caring to just let the other die.

At least they would not let the other die without them...

• Clings onto others (especially the other) / Cold exterior

I'd say they both just like physical contact, Nana more than Mahiru.

Mahiru wasn't exactly a physical person except maybe to Karen, but I think she would like the proximity Nana would provide her, like a sense of security. Isn't it comforting to melt into a hug. Idk I just think she would like being hugged by someone taller as well.

Nana would like the contact as some kind of reminder that Mahiru won't leave her anytime soon, so more of a possessive motive.

• "This is fate, isn't it?" / "It was a coincidence, that's all"

This doesn't really reflect whether they believe in fate or not.

I wouldn't be able to tell for sure for Nana, but I think Mahiru does believe in fate, but it just never turns out the way she wished it would (first example obviously is Karen and Hikari, but also anything related to others getting the lead roles she would have loved to get).

Specifically in a Nanamahi setting, I'd say they both think this just happened to be when they needed it the most, just pure coincidence.

This wasn't meant to be but it's convenient for both of them.

• "Let's leave this place" / "I can't just leave everything for 'you'..."

Nana doesn't have much to lose anymore and would lean more on not caring about leaving everything behind to keep this relationship, bc even if it hurts both of them, the pain brings her comfort and will have trouble thinking theres any other way to feel better, at least in the present. It's easier to indulge in this temporary comfort and cut yourself from the outside to fully enjoy it.

As for Mahiru, despite her loneliness, she has too much to lose compared to Nana. Mahiru's loneliness is not the same as what Nana feels because she still has and had so many friends and a loving family who support her. She still want to achieve things and she can't just leave everything behind for this comfort which she knows is only temporary. This is where it would make more sense for someone like Claudine to bring her comfort instead, since she would push Mahiru forward more while Nana would want to stay in a constant cycle of pain.

• A bloody marriage / "I still don't feel a thing"

I'm not sure what a bloody marriage is, but I think Nana would believe there isn't any sort of "love" between them. Ofc it isn't just a random friendship (I don't think that friends just casually kiss all the time), but she would lean more on believe there is nothing worth calling "love".

As for Mahiru, she's more sensitive when it comes to romantic feelings, and might develop a little something, but definitely not a cute kind of love. More of what would be seen as emotional dependence.

Even so, she'd keep thinking to herself that it isn't love and would try to think there's nothing between them despite her growing feelings.

• Self-sacrificial / Would give you away for nothing at all

I don't think neither of these people pleasers would even care about themselves enough to sacrifice the other for nothing.

• "See you in the next life" / "This will never happen again"

They hope such a situation won't ever happen again in the future, but Mahiru would lean more on wanting to meet Nana again in another lifetime where they don't feel so sick and can have fun like they did in highschool (not that Nana doesnt want it but she might think that if they met again, things would end up the same).

• "I don't feel a thing" / "You make me feel alive"

Honestly the entire reason they're together.

When they're by themselves, it's just their thoughts and themselves. They wouldn't feel comfortable enough to open up to anyone about their feelings: they're supposedly getting better now.

I can easily think while they can act normally around others, they'd be like walking corpses once alone when their moods aren't at their best.

By finding each other, someone who can understand their ugly feelings, they can find comfort in each other's arms.

• Would go back in time to save you / Things like that are impossible

We mentionned this with Risse earlier but if Mahiru was given the ability to timeloop, she may have done it.

But my nanamahi setting is leaning towards the future where the revues are over, so when it isn't even possible anymore. Mahiru isn't aware of the timeloops.

Mahiru wouldn't even believe that is a possibility.

Nana would do it again.

• "I need anyone by my side" / "I don't need anyone anymore except you"

In a time where loneliness overtakes her mind, Mahiru would probably be fine as long as anyone could be here for her or at least make her feel needed in a way that isn't like her family needs her or her regular friends need her.

Her love and interactions with Karen have left a scar in her that doesn't heal properly and made her feel the need to find someone who can make her feel needed in a similar way again.

Nana on the other hand has given up and only wants one person by her side.

• "We're friends, right?" / "I wished we were something more"

Between Nana and Mahiru, Mahiru would probably be the one yearning for something more concrete than a weird special bond, while Nana views this more as just mutually helping out.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ Of Fatherhood And Dreams Not Spoken ✧₊⁺

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x OC (Astraea)/ Khan is in this. It's mostly him and Roboute talking.

Author's Note: Because I'm terrible at writing a story proper. I rather just write drabbles from the overall plot I have in mind. That being said this overall plot I have named "Wisdom in the Stars". And here are some key things to note for this overarching story:

This is all very self-indulgent and I will not apologize. If the Grimdark can be extra, so can I!

Bobby G's love interest is a xenos of my making, so they are as long-lived as him, but not a perpetual.

Again mad self-indulgent. Oozing copium by the ton

Rowboat Guillotine deserves a happy life and some damn peace

So many Primarchs are going to be back in some drabbles. Again no fucks given

Proofread? Never heard of her

I like saying Roboute's name wrong as a means of affection.

Warnings: Slight nsfw at the end. Talks of pregnancy, children, and kinks of the breeding variety.

18+ ONLY

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There were oh so many things he's done that made those words that thundered in his head in a cacophonic choir ring true. Tool. Betrayer. Theif. Why did he focus on those? Perhaps deep down he knew them to be true.

He wanted to be a good son, and he was to his parents. But to his creator? The one that called him his last hope? Even now with all that was accomplished, he wasn't so sure. An effective tool? That he was.

Oh, how that was the crux of this all now. Because something was breaking. Had been for so long. The strict need to follow His every word, every teaching to the letter had long started to crumble. To this point, he could justify it. Excuse himself. But this?

Vibrant blue eyes that had started to have a light behind them, a sign of the better times he was in, gazed down at the dataslate. The message he was reading was still open, not that he needed to read it again. The words burned into his mind. Screamed of his selfishness and brought the crippling fear he might fall like the one before him that wanted such heretical things for himself.

The wrestling of what parts of him were human had never been so hard. Basic human needs were beyond him. At least he believed that. But since his revival and she walked into his life...Why hadn't the Emperor made them machines?

His gaze moved again, this time back to the garden in which he sat, relaxing of sorts. Something he was learning to do. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not yet. She was playing with some children of her maidens. The laughter of the little ones made him impossibly light and much larger than he was.

Those sounds filled him with feelings new, but also familiar. He sounded like that when his mother played with him, and cared for him. Yes, he was a child once, despite how quick his mind grew. His mother never let that stop him from being a child in some capacity.

Yet those laughs terrified him and cast a deep shadow of guilt and shame. Not for him, never for him. A Primarch has no need for biological children, any children. He had his Astartes sons. The best of the best are forged through painful surgeries and grueling tests. Mass-produced versions of the tool they were templated from. He was a god of war, a weapon, and weapons do not need things their masters need.

Roboute scowled. When the stirrings rose up, hot and drowning him out.

"You should do it."

Roboute had been so lost in his mind he hadn't noticed Jaghatai had taken a seat next to him.

"Excuse me?" Guilliman asked. His composure not once gave a hint of how chaotic his mind was at the moment.

At first, it was as if Khan wasn't going to answer him, "Horus, would slip from time to time, about how his children would rule the stars after the crusade was done. Even when Malcador with cold words would remind him, that the only reproducing we would have were our gene-sons," Khan sighed, "You are not going to turn into the next Horus because you long for family not us, or your gene-sons. Do the procedure."

Before Roboute could ask how he knew that was on his mind, or even what he was told Jaghatai continued, "You've been watching Astraea and those kids with so much intent like you were trying to manifest something. That and you happen to want to go to the planet in their empire that is known for its advanced DNA work medical procedures on many races? Namely in the areas of conception? Please. Most of our brothers might be blind, but I and Corvus know better. You're the one who took your gene-seed sample, yes?"

Guilliman nodded, "I assume Corax is the one who found that out?"

Khan nodded, "And Cawl, they handled it. So do it. You out of all of us, always thought of a galaxy at peace, or the closest to it. You never lived for the hunt, the fight, but the peace. You fought for peace over thrill and power. So take this. You are not Horus. You are not weaker. I think we are all starting to wake up in a sense. It is...uncomfortable. But perhaps, we are more than the sum of our creation?"

"I hope so." was all Roboute could say.

༺═──────────────═༻

This, out of everything was what he loved now that the galaxy wasn't on the verge of ending. Laying in bed with Astraea while a fire burns gently. Her soft hums lull him into comfort and bliss. Large fingers drew little circles over her belly, as his mind offered him images of her heavy with their children. How, as much as he hated the word, divine she would look. Oh, how he would worship her. A goddess in her own right. a living one who brought life into the world. Life she deemed him worthy of creating with her.

His mind continued with the future it was offering. How she would waddle about and rely on him to help her stand, or lean against when walking took everything. Her trying to ride him when is looks so ready to pop. How he would fuck her like he could put another one in her before the first child is born. Her already beautifully full breasts, engorged and heavy with milk.

Roboute blushed when he felt himself pushing against her. He craved it so bad, despite how much it scared him.

"Roboute?" Astraea hummed looking over her shoulder with an impish grin, "And here I thought you were tired."

She kissed his chin, as she turned to face him, hands roaming over his strong broad chest, before gliding down to his erection.

He could smell it, she was already aroused. Oh, how she melted for him so easily. But he was the same for her. There were some days he had to force himself away from her for a bit, worried all he would do is fuck her until they both were raw and overtaken by the ruinous powers.

"Would you want children?" Roboute asked, between his heated breaths and needy kisses.

Astraea looked at him a bit surprised, and yet like she half expected this, "I thought we had to wait on even marrying, let alone speak of family. But of course I want children. You know this." she replied.

He did. But he still wanted to ask, as if her mind had suddenly changed.

"Good," he smiled rolling on top of her, holding himself up on his knees, which were on each side, "Then we should get some more practice in."

He leaned down and nipped at her ear, as a hand moved over her breasts and down to her hot core, "For once the procedure is done, you are not leaving my side and bed until it sticks."

This might be the single most selfish thing he would do, but he wouldn't regret it. He wanted to feel human, to understand all that he had been fighting to protect for all these long years.

[sugar-crash]

🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑

(Confession Edition!)

(Section two everyone!!! When I have enough posts for both I’ll make a masterlist! I’m kinda surprised how quick it took for people to like the previous one— Thank you so much to the people who have reblogged/followed me!!!)

- Those years of hiding away from the rest of the arcade after his major fuck up gave him lots of time to think, and mellow himself out even, though that violent impulsiveness is still there when he gets frustrated enough.

- If you catch his eye, whether it be due to you being from Sugar Rush, an older game, or newer— Or if you two were a thing before the whole RoadBlasters disaster, he isn’t nearly as stubborn with his feelings as he used to be.

- He handles it far more smoothly, though his reach is more limited (I like the idea that he can’t necessarily leave Sugar Rush due to his disguise slipping without it so this will apply here), probably getting Sour Bill to invite you to the game after hours so he can commune with you more.

- If you belong to Sugar Rush it is a bit of a different story; it's more convenient for his intentions to pursue you romantically.

- He tries and more or less succeeds in being classy in his attempts at courting you, having a kind of classic way of doing so— Giving you various edible gifts he reprograms to your liking.

- Pet name galore, all candy themed. I don’t make the rules they just come to me in dreams/j

- Naturally keeps various things from you, including the mistreatment of Venallope by him and the rest of Sugar Rush, making sure everyone plays nice in front of you so you don’t notice how lonely the little girl is.

- Sugary as all hell, which is something one would expect from King Candy, who seems to never run out of ways to try to woo you whenever you come to his game.

- After like a year or two he steadily makes his intentions more and more apparent before going out and saying it out front after inviting you to a nice dinner at the castle.

- When you accept, my god is he delighted by the result of his patience and hard work (with a good degree of manipulation, knowing him.) Much like the life he was able to carve himself into this game, he has a sense of pride about your relationship.

- His over dramatic personality comes into play, whenever someone takes interest in you in front of him he’s ready to scuffle, raising his fists up to “defend your honor”.

- It’s silly, but endearing, backing his actions up with saying his intentions are true, giving you an overly heartfelt and mushy response that gets an eye roll from Sour Bill, well deserved.

- The way King Candy loves is… Cartoonish at times, over the top, oozing that jolly and wondrous persona he’s so desperate to display in front of others, especially you.

- Though he does have moments where he lets you in, those moments where vulnerability cracks through that hard shell sugar coating he’s put on himself.

- His self-absorbed tendencies are there, no amount of time could ever take that away from him, it’s basically hard coded into him, in and out of his disguise.

- He’s quick to explain himself every time there’s a slip; either from himself or one of the many Sugar Rush subjects.

- He doesn’t let his frustrations out in front of you if he can help it, leading you away from whoever messed with his plan, placing a kind hand on the small of your back and giving the guilty party a brief yet annoyed glare before softening his face up for you.

- In many ways, he treats you right— But there's always a nearly imperceptible wall between you two, which always has him on guard in some way.

- There’s a yearning he wants to indulge in, but there's far too much risk for him to do so— He can't possibly know how'd you react if you knew his little, well, not so little secret.

- As much as he loves you, it isn’t enough to truly fill you in on everything, though unfortunately for him, the term “lies always come to light eventually” definitely fits his situation as his unwillingness to let things go (literally) inevitably does him in.

(Pa'z ZHSTVU)

[fastboatsmojito]

Some Depraved Billy Butcher Smut

This is becoming a pattern I feel - it’s been a long day forgive me

18+ Smut btc, He’s pretty mean, like shove the side of your face into the brick wall of a building mean, you’re also pretty mean to him oops, almost dacryphilia but not quite ?? His hands are filthy for sure but you let him put them inside of you anyways <3 is that true love - This is incredibly self-indulgent and nasty - LOCK ME UP !!!!

Unfortunately drooling over the thought of yelling at butcher in some dark alley in the middle of a mission you’re supposed to be finishing 🧎HEAR ME OUT

——

You’re pissed off, yelling at him about being as careless as he always was, planting a hand firm on his chest and pushing him into the wall of some building you couldn’t care less about, all while he gave you some shitty excuse about doing ‘whatever it takes to get the job done’. You’re in his face, anger written all over your own while he waited for you to finish your lecture.

“Shouldn’t care so much about someone like me for fucks’ sake, so what if I get a little roughed up? It’s part of the job.” He explained, not really understanding the reason behind your protest nor caring to.

“Fuck you.” You said with a final glare, walking backwards and away from him as you took a few deep breaths to regain yourself, before quickly turning around and marching towards him when you heard him chuckle behind you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” He had quite the bad habit of not taking you seriously, on and off the job, and it only pissed you off further.

“Just a bit hard to take you seriously like this ‘s all” He was smiling like a fucking idiot when you walked back up to him, wordlessly threatening to slap him with a raised hand.

“Handsy, are we? Relax. Not a bad thing to be soft. It’s a good look on ya, hand to god.” He put a hand over his heart like he was promising when he said it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if his other hand was occupied with keeping two fingers crossed behind his back.

“You know you’re not my boss anymore, right? I might work with you but I follow M.M. You’re just some asshole I have to go on missions with now.” Your words didn’t carry the venom you tried to conjure out of yourself, disappointment that you were actually letting him get to you settling in.

“Ouch.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he sauntered closer to you. “Why don’t we just get back to work, eh? Finish this little spat when we don’t have some D-lister supe up our asses?”

“Fuck that and fuck you, Butcher. I’m not going to work with a psycho that doesn’t care if he gets himself or his partner killed. I don’t have time for this shit, if you want to ruin your life do it on your own time. I’m done.” You spat before turning away again, this time stopped by him moving in front of you.

“Hang on just a second there, I might put myself in danger for this but I still protect you. Might have a shitty way of showin’ it but that’s the reason you’re not here alone. Think M.M would send me somewhere for no reason? You’re good enough to do the job alone just fine, but there’s about six Vaught cunts in there just waitin’ on you to walk in alone.” He stopped himself with a drop of his head while you stood in what you could only describe as confusion, a tinge of guilt in your stomach.

He raised his head after a moment of you not responding. “Come on.” He gestured back towards the building entrance, looking at you with something along the lines of remorse, a look you’d never seen on him.

Maybe it was the quiet, the only audible noises your own heartbeat in your ears and the low passing of cars on the street a few feet ahead of you. Maybe it was the moonlight lightly tracing over both of your outlines, giving the man in front of you a soft glow as he seemingly patiently waited on you. Maybe it was every other time you’ve wanted to say that to him, finally getting a response that wasn’t complete bullshit. Whatever it was, every possible excuse felt ultimately irrelevant by the time you shoved your lips into his own.

It was difficult to shock someone like Butcher, there was basically nothing you could say or do that he hadn’t heard or seen before, but you felt the hesitation from him anyway. It was just a second but the tension felt heavy right until the moment you felt him kissing you back. It wasn’t soft, you couldn’t possibly have expected it to be, his rough palms moving to your sides almost immediately.

—

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill over your lash line as he shoved your face into the brick wall in front of you, his other hand currently two fingers deep inside of you, to which you had no prior warning in true Billy Butcher fashion. It was no secret he was just as much a dick in the sex department as he was out of it, relentlessly teasing you like a fucking animal.

“Yellin’ at me get you this worked up, did it?” He covered your body with his own but that didn’t stop the urgency you felt to finish before someone walked out and saw you, your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of his thick fingers hooking up up up and then back out again repeatedly, fast and rough just as his tongue had been in your mouth a moment before.

“Jesus-“ You gasped when his thoroughly soaked fingers retracted to rub tight circles over your clit. He was clearly in his element, you could practically feel the grin on his face right behind you.

“Not quite.”

———

[souldagger]

hey, mar! what would *you* like to see more of in the next 10 years in sff literature?

GOOD QUESTION... i shared the amal el-mohtar quote precisely bc she hit the nail on the 'big' things i'd most like to see more of (SFF getting WEIRD with it, 'queer as a verb', diversity beyond 'box-checking', both genre-fuckery/blurring of lines btwn genres and maximalist quintessential fully-and-unapologetically-in-love-with-the-genre books). BUT if i may also be self-indulgent a little bit, some more specific things i personally would love to see more of:

sff centering a sense of wonder and/or existential dread!!! some of my favourite works of SFF are ones that tap into those specific feelings, i'd love to see more of either, or both - especially since the line between the two is rather thin

kind of relatedly - not to sound like a snob but i LOVE when scifi gets philosophical with it. like make me question the fundamental subjectivity of our experience and the transience of our existence! more of that! sickos hahaha yes!!!

if i can get into the weeds of specific tropes: i'd love more xenoarchaeology and Big Dumb Objects in particular <3 (both of which tie into the wonder/existential dread thing for me)

hard scifi - i'm always down for more hard scifi - but specifically hard scifi with a focus on sciences other than just physics

also, more books playing with the form - by which i mean not just nonlinear/nonsequential fiction, but also messing with the physical format itself - the layout, the typography, etc. (yes this is the graphic designer in me speaking)

illustrations also… like i think they could really add SO much to the experience of speculative fiction in particular, it's such a pity how rare illustrations are in SFF, esp adult SFF. case in point: look at Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld (YA, but still) or Walking Practice by Dolki Min and tell me the illustrations do not elevate the text to a new level!

[cupidspup]

It’s late and I’m bored so enjoy this agere fic I made teehee

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CG! BEN drowned x Little! Reader

(All art is not mine and credit goes to their original artists!)

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CW: Aged up Ben, pet regressor little, feminine little w/ feminine nicknames (this one is heavily indulgent I’m sorry guys 😔✌️), pet regression gear (pet bed, cage, chew toys, ect), alternative paternal nicknames (ex: baba), petre nicknames (puppy and kitty ones are used interchangeably!), a small amount of abandonment feels and loneliness but it’s okay because there’s lots of comfort!!

Summary: You and Ben are having parallel play time but suddenly your abandonment issues and anxiety start to sink in and it starts to make you feel sad and lonely. Luckily Ben is there to make it all better for you! (Self indulgent alert!!)

A/N: I was too lazy to figure out a way to fit in that the setting is Ben’s room in slendermansion into this fic thing so here’s how I’m letting y’all know and I hope that’s okay ८,,◐⩊◐,,ა

-`♡´-

You and Ben are always together, quality time is a huge thing between the two of you and everyone knows that. Wherever he goes you go and wherever you go he goes and you guys love it that way! It’s your version of perfect and you couldn’t ask for more! It even sends butterflies into your tummy when people ask where “your other half is” when one of you is missing from your usual pair. It’s domestic to you in a way and for people to immediately pair you two together in your eyes is something that you find particularly special. Now, you both following each other around isn’t necessarily a codependency thing but it’s just you both genuinely love being around each other!

If there’s a party you both are huddled in a corner either talking or playing games on your phone. When you’re home you’re always cuddled up to him while he’s busy doing his own thing. Most people would think that he’s too inattentive to be a good caregiver but not were they so far from the truth. Ben had actually never had a little until he met you. Much less a little who was also a pet at that. It took a lot of practice and communication but once he got into his own groove for it it’s been nothing but perfect. And ever since he first started caring for you he’s only gotten better by the day.

One of your favorite things to do with Ben is snuggle by him while he plays his video games. It’s something so small and unconventional but it brings you both a lot of joy. He has his gaming set up on a desk in his room. Everything is decorated just the way he likes. But he’s your baba and he loves to spoil you so of course right under his desk he’s has a perfectly pretty pink puppy bed for you complete with your favorite plushies and your favorite blankie. He even went ahead and put some small fairy lights so you wouldn’t be scared of the dark.

So while Ben plays away at his video games every now and then he’ll reach a loving hand down to ruffle your hair and caress your cheek softly. And of course you nuzzle yourself into his hand each and every time, cuddling up to his legs.

And of course today was no different than any other day.

You’ve been cuddled under his desk for about an hour now and Ben has been playing his games for a little longer than that. Initially, you went to your little crawl space to be closer to him and have some more of his attention but it hasn’t worked out quite yet. Ben still hasn’t realized that you want more attention than the occasional head pat!! Isn’t that clear enough already?? So if course as any pet would, you decide to get his attention in the best way you know how.

Pouting while being cute.

You rest your head onto his leg, smushing your cheek right up against it with a little whine. No response. You whine just a tad louder and nuzzle your head with a little more pressure. Nothin. One more louder whine with a little pout rewards you with a loving hand petting your cheeks and the most loving voice from him while he plays. “What’s up little pup?” He says as he softly caresses your face.

As soon as he says it, you feel it in your chest right in your heart. That twinge of pain and hurt is suddenly unlocked. It’s the normal pain you feel but it’s so much stronger when you’re so little and deep in your headspace.

You feel lonely. You feel abandoned somehow, even though he’s been right there this whole time! You know it’s irrational and it makes you feel crazy honestly. It’s hard to cope with it enough as is but while you’re like this? It’s a recipe for a meltdown on its own.

He’s still playing his game but you can tell he’s catching on.

“What’s going on kitty? You okay?”

You nod your head and try to pull back a little from him.

You’re being too much you don’t want to be a bother. This is too much for him it’s all too much. He’s going to leave and he’s going to leave you because you’re leaning on him too much. You have to do this on your own, you’re able to do this on your own why make him do this? He’s always playing and this is why, he needs an escape. An escape from you, you’re going to end up alone and it’ll be your fault.

The thoughts are coming in and they’re coming in fast. They’re bad and they’re overwhelming it feels like you’re suffocating from them alone. You want to cling onto him but it’s scary. He’s already so busy and you don’t want to be a bother more than you already have been.

The sound of Ben’s game being completed is what breaks you out of your own ruminating. He takes a second to stretch before pushing himself away from his desk and out of his seat. This pulls at your heartstrings, it hurts you to your core in the worst way. You curl up under the desk into your blanket, it’s the only thing that can comfort you right now.

It’s what you think at first at least.

At first, it looks like Ben was going to leave the room but once he was out of his chair, nice and stretched he comes down and sits on the floor with you. Chair and game aside he’s on your level with you.

“Baby, what’s up with you? I’m right here you can tell me anything, you know that.” He says with a comforting tone. When he looks at you it’s not judgmental or annoyed. Nothing of the sort at all. It’s calm and patient. The complete opposite of what you thought he would have been.

“Kitten are you having bad thoughts again?” He says as he inches closer. “It’s okay if you are don’t worry. You know your baba cares about you. I’d never be upset at you for that.” You pause and refuse to look into his eyes, you can’t seem to meet them even though he says it’s okay. You nod at him, confirming his suspicion. Curling into yourself further you hold your blanket closer for comfort. Ben sits for a bit to think before joining you under the desk, right in your crawl space. “Well I know there’s not a whole lot I can do to make your thoughts stop-but I know I can do a lot about how you feel about them. I’m not going anywhere at all, puppy. I promise you that, as a matter of fact I’ll stay here in your puppy space for as long as you want me to.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you in for a cuddle, which you silently accept. You nuzzle into him and the fabric of his hoodie wipes the tears that were forming in your eyes. He gives you a soft kiss on the top of your head and gently rubs your back. “That’s it pup, just relax for me.” You let out all the air you were holding in and snuggle up to him more. And it’s just like that. The two of you snuggled under his desk in your little crawl space.

It’s a nice comfort but very unfamiliar. Ben doesn’t really come down here since it’s YOUR space. You lift your head to look at him only to find him looking at the things you have under the desk with you.

He dusts off the scattered pacis you have, tidies up your various tethers and chew toys, and even organizes your various stuffed friends.

“You’ve got a nice setup, kitten. I can’t believe you had all this going on right under me.” He looks at you and his pointed ears wiggle just a tad. It makes you smile a little bit, it’s a thing he does sometimes without even realizing it most of the time. It’s something that happens really when he’s spending his time with you. He smiles and picks up one of the plushies you have under there with you. A gift from him of course. “Awe you got that thing I got you here. What’s this guy’s name again?? Rico?? Luka???”

You giggle and scrunch your face at him a little.

“Nu uh! Rilakkuma!!” You say in response as he picks up your other plushie.

“Oh yeah and his friend Corey” he says as he puts them together.

You laugh and shake your head no as you point to the plushie, “Nooo that’s Korilakkuma! You’re being silly!!” Ben pretends to be shocked at both the name and at your accusations.

“Gasp that is not TRUE! I am being sooo serious right now how could you kitten? I thought we were FRIENDS!” He says with a playful tone as he cuddles the bears together. “I’m gonna go cuddle with my REAL FRIENDS Rico and Corey now that I’ve been WOUNDED by my kitty.” His ears droop for dramatic effect. This of course makes you giggle even more. “Babaaaaa! Noooo!” He cuddles them close and starts talking to them, “Cmon guys they obviously don’t know what they’re talking about.” This throws you into a laughing fit and it completely shifts your mood. Ben is always the best at helping with that. He’s not a big fan of being like this in front of others but when it’s just you two? You get a side of him that no one else sees and it’s your perfect dynamic, hust the way you want it. He’s a doting caregiver through and through.

Ben being the self-appointed internet god he is, of course he knows these characters and their real names! You’ve talked about them before and he sees them all the time! He just loves to tease you and make you laugh. ♡

He hands you one of your beloved bears back (Korilakkuma) and keeps the other. Making his gives your a big hug. “See my bear is hugging yours because they love each other and I love you too, kitten. ♡ you’re always going to be mine and I’ll always take care of you. Leaving you would be just as upsetting to me as it would be to you-I’d never do a thing like that to you cutie. I promise”

You give him a big hug and bury yourself into his neck a little. And he hugs you right back because he’s secretly just as much of a cuddle bug as you are. “I love you puppy”

“I love you too baba”

“Wanna sit on my lap and watch while I do my stuff? We can do something else if you’d prefer that” he asks with a little smile. You’d nod and you leave your arms out to him. He gets up and lifts you up into his arms and take a seat with you. You settle into your rightfully taken throne (Ben’s lap) and lean against his chest. He drapes a loving and protective arm around you and uses the other to turn his pc back on. With a kiss on your head, a plushie in your arms and your little gear on stand by it’s the perfect setup.

You point at the can of monster on his desk and make a lil noise.

He moves the can away from you, “Nope. Sorry baby, little puppies like you can’t have any of that.” He leans down and opens his creeper mini fridge (yes he has one) and takes out a juice box for you instead. “I can however, give you this instead. That sound good?”

You nod and take the juice box, sipping happily as you watch Ben play his games. It’s a lovely routine you two have and you couldn’t ask for more.

Just like that, everything is back to perfect and you wind up spending your day with him like you usually do. Curled up in his lap like a good kitty and spending time with him like usual.♡

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A/N: WOof this took FOREVER and I initially planned on posting sneak leaks but I never was able to like write enough for that but I’ve been up since 5 am and I’ve been writing and it’s honestly come together so nicely and so much better than I thought it would?? I dunno if it’s obvious but this is so incredibly self indulgent it’s not even funny lol I hope you guys liked it nonetheless! I have so much more planned (especially with Ben and Toby as caregivers) and I can’t wait to share that with you! Love you guys!

-Puppy 🐶ིྀ🐾♡₊ ⊹

[jelliclekay]

Okay, I got a lot of interest in posting this. So here's a little thing I wrote with Bombalurina and my OC Calfuray!

Background: Takes place a few days after Bombalurina leaves Macavity. Calfuray is mates with a Macavity hench cat.

“I knew you would be up here,” Bombalurina remarks, but Calfuray doesn’t acknowledge the red Queen’s presence. Calfuray is huddled against the brick wall lining the rooftop, arms wrapped around herself as though she’s trying to hide from the world.

“Not really anywhere else to go.” Calfuray mutters to herself, but Bomba still hears her, the silence on the roof loud enough that Bomba can hear the nervous tapping of the purple Queen’s claws against the hard floor. 

Bomba sits herself next to Calfuray, who doesn’t budge from her position. It’s a rare moment where Bomba gets to talk with the other Queen alone, with Calfuray’s mate having her practically under lock and key. But when he’s away on a job, the purple Queen always finds a way up on the roof despite Macavity and the hench cat’s best efforts to keep the area locked down. 

The two sit in silence for awhile, Calfuray still nervously moving her body around, clearly bothered by something. Bombalurina wants to ask her what’s wrong, but doesn’t want to make the Queen uncomfortable by bringing up whatever happened to make her so fidgety.

“I hate the way that thing looks at me.” Calfuray blurts out of nowhere, and Bomb is caught off guard by the usually silent Queen's outburst.

"Who-" Bomba starts to ask, but Calfuray continues.

“Macavity. I hate him. The look he gave me earlier today when he and Jonathan were planning... whatever it is that they're planning. It made me sick.” Calfuray says angrily, and Bomba is stunned at how brazenly the Queen is talking about the cat who could kill her with a flick of his wrist if he overheard this conversation.

Had Bombalurina heard all this just a month ago, she might had been offended at the horrific things she was hearing about Macavity. She might have been tempted to tell Macavity about all this, as a way to impress him or show her loyalty to him.

But now, Bombalurina just sits and listens. She can’t blame the other Queen for her deep hatred. Calfuray has certainly been there longer than she has, and Bombalurina can only imagine what the other Queen has been through.

“Bombalurina.” Calfuray finally speaks again, “Why are you still here?” 

Bomba is caught off guard by the question, and she stays quiet.

“You have to know by now why Macavity brought you here. He's just... desperate to try and replace Demeter, and he's using you to do that. You don’t deserve that. I know you know that you don't deserve that."

Bombalurina bites her lip, sinking down against the cool red tile behind her. Again, just a month ago, she might have tried to claw Calfuray's eyes out for even insisting that Macavity didn't want her. But she doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

"Go back to that Junkyard place. It's where you belong. I know you're tough, that you can hold your own against the cats who live here. But you don't belong here."

"And you do?" Bombalurina retorts back, and Calfuray lets out a cold, empty laugh.

"It's too late for me." She claims, the bitter defeat evident in her voice, “But it isn’t for you.”

“What makes you say that?” Bombalurina demands to know. 

"I’m sure the cats in that Junkyard miss you. But me? I have nothing outside of Jonathan. Nothing outside of this place."

Bombalurina wants to argue with her, try to desperately convince the purple Queen to come with her if she does decide to leave.

But the sudden cackling of laughter and booming voices from the streets below jolts Calfuray to her feet.

"Jonathan is back. I have to go.” 

“Calfuray, wait-” Bombalurina scrambles to her feet to try and reach out for the Queen bolting towards the door, but she’s too slow to catch the skittering, terrified Queen this time.

[lamiliani]

This California heat is gonna be the DEATH of me! 😩 I want to be on a beach in La Paz NEOW!

(Please don’t judge me on my shading. Been awhile since I’ve done male anatomy ✋🏼😔)