#jesus how did he make it without killing himself

[autismmydearwatson]

When you realize that the Breaking Bad timeline is when Saul is at his most fragile and in the most pain....................... and he has to deal with WALT.

[beartes22]

Season 2 Jayce with season 1 Viktor this, beard Jayce with young Viktor that….fools, all of you. I raise you, season 2 arc 2 Viktor and season 1 Jayce.

[srvphm]

oh no the guy you dated for less than a year before having a kid with most of which was spent doing coke and smoking inside is not a good father, the guy who went to prison for crimes against a child, the one you’re completely financially dependant on and have no way to leave, who has physically abused you before and refuses to communicate until he explodes at you, he’s not a very good man maybe. who would’ve guessed, who could’ve possibly seen this coming.

[talaok]

Old Man

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.

warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)

Ellie was the one to start it all,

I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.

Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.

“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.

"Hey-" He'd protested,

"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"

And well from then on things had... escalated.

You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.

You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.

"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"

He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.

"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"

"I don't need glasses"

"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"

"'m sure alright" he grumbled

"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"

"darlin'"

"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful

"I don't need 'em"

And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.

Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.

He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.

It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.

"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"

But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.

As I said, he was struggling.

A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...

"Let me do it"

"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.

"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly

And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid

"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.

"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.

"What did you just say?"

A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-

He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.

"Jesus babe" you laughed,

"What did you say?"

His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.

You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered

"I said I'm sure you could"

"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"

"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes

"You know what"

"no I don'-"

But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours

"you called me an old man, darlin'?"

He was a different man from a minute ago.

This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.

"Baby I was jokin-"

"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"

Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.

You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-

"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"

"J-Joel" you whimpered

"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"

When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror

"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear

"y-yes"

"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"

You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.

"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him

"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned

The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.

"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision

"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"

Oh shit

Oh fucking shi-

If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.

You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.

"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"

"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure

"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"

But it was- Oh it was more than enough.

And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.

You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-

And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.

Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"

It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.

he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.

"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly

"You're not an old man" you promised

"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could

"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity

He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.

"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes

"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"

"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"

"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly

"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"

[thefreakandthehair]

smooth operator

written for ‘hole’ | wc: 404 | rated: m | cw: n/a @steddiemicrofic

Crowd-work is Eddie Munson’s favorite part of stand-up. It’s actually become a niche of sorts, and tonight is no different.

“Something I’ve noticed in my time fucking men,” Eddie leads with, strolling across the makeshift stage, “is that you can tell how hot a guy is by how he takes off his shirt.”

The audience chuckles collectively.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. We’ve all seen movies. You, in the navy blue,” Eddie gestures with his chin at a man sitting at a hightop with two girls. “You’re a good-lookin’ guy. Let’s see if you’re hot. Show us how you take your shirt off.”

Without hesitating, Blue Shirt stands up and in one swift motion, grabs the back of his shirt with one hand and tugs it off over what Eddie tries not to think is perfectly soft, perfectly messy copper locks. Turns out, it’s easy to not think about his hair, because every rational and coherent thought he’s ever had about anything comes to a screeching halt.

It kills his set because that’s not the Hot Guy Method he’s been referring to but there’s not a chance in cold, dark Hell he can stand on stage and lie in front of this cheering, clapping audience. This guy is fucking hot.

“Oh my God,” he says in the microphone as Blue Shirt shrugs and flushes, just a hint of pink crawling from the hollow of his throat to his cheeks. “That’s never worked before. That’s never worked. I did not— wow, I did not see that coming.”

The crowd continues to laugh and applaud, Blue Shirt sitting confidently on his barstool with his shirt still in hand. Motherfucker doesn’t even have the decency to put it back on so Eddie can move on.

He’s really dug himself a fucking hole with this one, huh?

“Jesus H. Christ, I meant to do the motion. And that’s— listen, that wasn’t the hot way I meant but for the first time ever, audience, I admit defeat. I don’t know what the Hell just happened, but that’s the hot way now.”

Blue Shirt raises his glass and fucking winks at him, before calling out in response. “Buy me a drink after the show and I’ll show you the hot way to take off a belt, too.” 

Eddie’s jaw falls open and Blue Shirt wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk. 

author's note: sometimes, you see a video of a stand-up comedian and drop literally everything you're doing to make it about your blorbos. this is one such time. @henderdads @steddieasitgoes it’s here!

[sir--cumference]

Its dawning on me how completely unhinged jayce and viktor's arcs were in s2. Like i was fully chilling feeling confident we'd get some friends to enemies shit, some nasty fights, maybe a last minute reconciliation and acknowledgement that nothing will ever be the same. I was like riot would never make them canon theyre too cowardly to make men kiss

Now im just like.... Jayce brings Viktor back to life with the thing he promised to destroy bc its evil? Ok word love it. Viktor leaves him for saving his life and breaking his promise? Hot. Viktor becomes jesus, healing shimmer leprosy? Turns into a hivemind? Uses other peoples bodies to be like "hiii jayce! Look what i did! :D Come say hi i missed u!"?? Jayce shows up all dirty and rugged with ptsd from wherever he was and just KILLS HIM with no explanation? We find out Jayce was in the future where everyone is a fucked up broken cunty robot husk? He meets future jesus viktor who is lonely bc he turned everyone cunty and robotic? Jayce promises him to murder him? BUT Viktor's brought back by singed using werewolf vanders blood and creates his giant hivemind of fabulous porcelain gaybots? He uses one to dance around and choke Jayce out and climb him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree all the while begging him to join the hive mind? All in front of Jayce's (ex?) Gf? I cannot help but stan. He cries in the astral plane when jayce says no i will not become part of your robot fungus network? Viktor becomes 8 or 9 feet tall, long metal face split in half plus creepy mask PLUS giant glowing third arm claw thing and confronts jayce and is just happily spewing nonsense about how he solved all of humanitys problems in a strangely cheerful horrifying slavik robot voice? Jayce is like please stop youre insane, all pouty, and Viktor just starts to fly and chokes him again? Two choking scenes?? Okay. Jayce finds himself in the same position as his metal husk self from the future and surrenders to Viktor immediately and the second he sees normal human viktor in the astral plane hes like "your imperfections make you BEAUTIFUL"? ekko knocks viktor on the head with a time travel device, breaks his face, and now Viktor's like oh shit maybe i actually kind of fucked up? Jayce tells him he saw him in the future and future vik told him life without Jayce is "fields of dreamless solitude"? They astral hug and Jayce gives him the stone magic Viktor gave him as a child and is like lets hold hands and disintegrate and save the universe together? They explode in a flash of bisexual lighting while touching foreheads????

Nothing about this made sense and i ate up every second. Truly a new standard for queer representation. We dont want kisses we want a nonsensical fever dream. I want to feel like i rode a roller coaster backwards and then someone threw a drink in my face and lit me on fire. Fuck me i guess? (Positive)

[filmologetica]

BEHAVIOR — dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader.

the one where: you and dean are trying your hardest to have sex but everyone seems to be against it.

warnings: +18. kind of smutty, language, fingering, blue balls king. english is not my first language and it’s 2am here so it might have some incorrect english i plan on checking later.

a/n: this was… something. i’m thinking about a part 2, let me know if you want it <3.

Dean didn’t know if anyone had ever died from blue balls, but if not, he could easily be the first.

Two weeks. It has been two weeks now that Dean and his girlfriend were trying to get some alone time, but it seemed impossible. Every time someone had something they forgot in the room they were heavily making out in and took too long to head out, killing the mood completely, or something urgent to talk to them, or something that needed to be done. Every damn time. And when they finally had time at night they were exhausted, completely worn out.

The tension was growing between them and they just couldn’t help it. They fought for every stupid reason, everything seeing to be extremely frustrating.

“Did you get the milk I asked you to yesterday?” Y/N’s voice was low. She was tired, frustrated and horny. More than that, she was fucking angry with the life she chose. Walking back to back killing monsters was fucking exhausting. She needed a break.

Everyday something new was getting on her nerves. Ghosts, demons, angels and even Lucifer himself. Jesus Christ, she had no more patience for anything.

“Shit, I forgot. Sorry, babe.” Dean was just as exhausted as her, but he was used to this life. What he was not used to was spending fourteen long days with zero sex.

Zero intimacy. Not even a lazy handjob. Of course he could take care of himself but once he was in a relationship - or sort of - he needed to be deep in the woman he craved. And oh, boy, he was craving her. Everything was enough to make his dick wake up and twitch inside his pants.

Every.

Single.

Thing

made him end up with a boner that he wished you would take care of but there was always something in the way.

Fourteen days. And counting.

“Fucking hell, Dean. Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention to the things I tell you?” You snapped, slamming your mug to the counter.

Sam looked up, rolling his eyes knowing very well you two were about to start another pointless argument. Dean wasn’t exactly helping his situation either, as he raised his voice. “If I pay attention to every single thing you talk about every day, there goes my whole day. You never shut up.”

“I’m really sorry. I forgot the only woman you’re capable of listening to are the stupid whores you fuck at every bar we step into.”

“Yeah, at least I can fuck them.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” Your mug was now forgotten in the counter as you marched out of the kitchen, your face red with anger. You knew Dean didn’t mean it. It has been like this for days now, just pointless arguments about nothing.

“Dude, just- Go talk to her.” It was almost like Sam was stuck in a loop all over again. That’s how he felt. He had now lost count of how many times he had said this exact same thing, the exact same way. “I’ll go buy the fucking milk.”

Sam had no idea what was happening. Your relationship with Dean was a secret and that was a deal that you both made until you figured out what it was. Of course sleeping together every night wasn’t exactly nothing but you agreed in taking things slow.

Dean entered your room without even knocking, closing the door behind him with a kick. “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” He sighed, letting his body fall in your bed. “I don’t want to keep fighting, I’m sorry. You know I listen to you, it’s just- It’s been too much.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry about what I said. I just-” Dean looked at her, knowing exactly what she would say. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?” Tracing an invisible line at her exposed leg, Dean was taking his time feeling how soft her skin was.

“Yeah.”

“Mhmm.” His hand was now not so innocent, getting to her thighs still gently. The touch enough to make her shiver. “What are you missing?”

Opening her legs, Y/N exposed her delicate lingerie. It was red, and Dean could feel his mouth water with the sight. Her tiny lace panties were now making him rock hard. He could see your pussy clearly and he was ready to show you how much he missed it. “I miss you right here.” Your hands entered the fabric, touching your clit gently.

“God, I love it when you act like a cock slut.” Lifting your dress a little more, Dean was taking up the view. You never needed much to make him hard, but this was a whole different level. It was like he was drunk on your smell.

“I love it when you fuck me with your fingers.” You said and Dean now moved the fabric to the side, to get a clearer view, chewing on his bottom lip. “It feels so good when you ease me up with one finger because I’m so fucking tight for you…”

And just to make Dean lose his mind, you add one finger to your drabbling pussy. It took to much of him to not roll his eyes and come undone without even taking off his pants. “And when you add another one… God, feels so good, baby.” One more finger in, another growl from Dean out.

“I’m going to fuck you good. Make you remember what it feels like when I’m filling you up.” With your most innocent face you nodded, more like begging Dean to fuck you.

When you felt his lips on yours in an urgent kiss, it felt like you were dreaming. His tongue sliding into your mouth roughly while you ran your fingers through his hair desperately. Now, he was on top of you and you could feel his bulge.

You could feel his cock while his hips trusted into you trying to make him feel better even with his clothes still on. When your hand found his boner, using enough pressure on it, Dean moaned into your lips. “Fuck. I need to be inside you.”

And just when his hands found his belt, a knock was heard on the door. “No!” You cried.

Dean sighed, absolutely frustrated and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “We can pretend there’s no one here. We put a pillow on your face and you make no sounds while I fuck you.”

You let out a quiet laugh, just as frustrated. “What if it’s important?”

“Y/N, this is important!” Dean was furious. Who wouldn’t be? He refused to add one more day to his blue balls count.

“Open up, guys!” Sam said loudly on the other side of the door.

“What the fuck does this guy want?” Dean got up while you adjusted your dress, trying your best to fix your hair quickly. “Yeah, Sam?”

As Dean opened the door, his face was definitely not friendly but it didn’t scare Sam, who entered the room and sat on the bed.

The bed you thought you were having sex seconds before. “We need to talk about your behavior.” He says.

“My what?” You ask and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about hitting his head on the door a billion times to end his penalty.

“We’re gonna talk about what’s happening between you and Dean and solve this problem right now.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can fix, Sammy.” You wish you could punch him.

“Well, then I’m not leaving this room.”

And with that, Dean left to take a cold shower in his room after being cockblocked by Sam once again.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel suffers a PTSD episode of when Sarah was killed and accidentally hurts you.]

PTSD, Angst, physical violence.

“Did you see the way she looked at me?” Joel stopped and looked down as he took a deep breath.

“I could’ve really hurt her, Tommy”

It was late in the night and you woke up realizing Joel wasn’t in bed beside you. Joel never left your side without letting you know where he would be, especially in the night. Tonight it was strange, you woke up careful not to wake up Tommy or Ellie who were in their own rooms down the hall. You could hear a faint mumbling coming from the living room and silently followed the sound.

Stepping into the main room you could see Joel facing out the window and still mumbling something to himself that you couldn’t make out.

“Joel?” You whispered as you walked towards him but he didn’t respond.

“Joel?” You gently touched his arm when he suddenly grabbed you by yours and slammed you against the wall. You whimpered as he took hold of your face in his large hand and looked at you with eyes you did not recognize.

“You killed my daughter” he squeezed your face as you looked up at him with horror and confusion.

“Joel!” You screamed as his hand moved to your throat with a tight squeeze. You gasped for air hitting his chest when the lights suddenly turned on and you heard Maria’s voice.

“Tommy!” She screamed out for him, the second he heard her voice he came running out.

“Shit” he uttered before grabbing Joel from behind and putting him in a choke hold.

“It’s me! It’s Tommy!, I’m gonna let you go just calm down, I need you to listen to me-“ Joel tried to fight it at first but slowed down as Tommy bought him to the ground. You coughed gasping for air as Maria ran to you making sure you were ok, your hand on your chest you couldn’t believe what had just happened. Looking back at Joel you could see he wasn’t himself, he didn’t notice anyone around him.

“Joel, you hear me?” Tommy yelled when suddenly Joel broke down in tears as Tommy let him go.

“It’s alright brother, it’s alright. Just another nightmare” you watched as Tommy comforted his brother as you stood still trying to catch your breath when Joel suddenly looked up at you, his face instantly changing realizing what he had just done.

“Oh my god” Joel pushed himself up coming towards you. You panicked quickly backing away as Maria got inbetween both of you.

“Hold on a minute, Joel. Give a her a minute”

Looking at him, all you could see was big brown tearful eyes.

“Jesus Christ, I hurt you-“ he spoke in shock with himself.

“I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to“ he spoke with desperation looking over Marias shoulder. Never had you seen him look so vulnerable before. You had no idea how to respond but you could see how distraught he was.

“Let me take her to the room, just stay here for a bit with Tommy,” Maria quickly turned to you guiding you to the bedroom as you silently cried without turning back.

Tommy could tell Joel felt horrible, watching him pace back and fourth in the living room not knowing what the hell to do with himself.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, Joel”

“Did you see the way she looked at me?” Joel stopped and looked down as he took a deep breath.

“I could’ve really hurt her, Tommy”

“Look, you had a nightmare about that night and you haven’t had one in a long time alright, you weren’t looking to hurt her” Tommy explained.

You could hear them in the living room talking as Maria closed the door.

“He’s never had a nightmare with me. I don’t know what happened” you whispered as you looked at yourself in the mirror, bruising already forming around your neck.

“He told me about them but I thought…I thought he was doing better now. I shouldn’t have walked up behind him like that” you whispered shaking your head.

“Look, it’s not your fault or his. Maybe it best you two don’t sleep together tonight, I can stay with you if you’d like.” You nodded in a bit of relief.

“Thank you, Maria” you whispered as she left the room to let them know.

Joel instantly looked up as Maria walked towards them.

“How is she?” He asked eagerly walking towards her.

“She’s a little startled Joel. I think it’s best I stay with her for tonight, you both get some rest and talk about it tomorrow.”

“She needs to know I didn’t mean to do that, she knows that don’t she?”

Maria simply nodded before walking back to the room and closing the door.

The next morning you were too anxious to leave your room, you waited until you heard everyone leave. Fixing yourself up you did your best to cover the bruising on your neck with your long dark hair when you heard a knock. You head turning so fast you winced at the slight soreness you felt. You thought everyone had left, at least you hoped.

“If you don’t wanna open the door, that’s fine. I just need you to listen” Joel’s voice on the other end made you take a deep breath. Slowly walking towards the door you unexpectedly opened it, surprising him as he looked down at you. You hadn’t realized moving your neck so quickly your hair was no longer covering the bruise, allowing Joel to see the harm he’d done. His jaw clenched and you quickly noticed what he was looking at and moved your hair to cover it. Joel thought he was ready to say something, but seeing what his hands had done to you he was left with no words.

“I’m not mad at you” you assured him with a soft whisper.

“You didn’t deserve that” he looked down taking a shaky deep breath flaring his nostrils.

Joel was angry with himself in a way he had never been before.

“I’m fine” you barely sounded convincing to yourself.

“What if Tommy wasn’t there-what if-“ he couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought of anything happening to you he simply couldn’t take.

“You know I would never do anything to you like that purposely right? I swear, baby if I knew it was you-“

“Joel, I know” you assured him with tears in your eyes. You could see the guilt he felt eating away at him.

“Let’s just forget this happened” you caressed the side of his face with a smile he could see right through.

“Shoot, sorry-“ Ellie suddenly appeared through the door catching you both by surprise.

“I was just gonna head to my room” she furrowed her brows taking a better look at you.

“Hey what the heck happened to you?” You quickly covered your neck with your hand turning away as Joel took a step towards Ellie, covering her view of you.

“Ellie please go to your room”

“Ooook then” she raised her brows walking backwards as she stepped inside and closed her door. When Joel turned back he realized you had walked into the room and quickly followed. Your back to him you quickly wiped away any tears before he could see.

“Hey” he reached out to your arm making you unexpectedly jump. The sight of you even the slightest bit afraid of him broke him. He a took a step back but all he really wanted to do was hold you.

“You want me to go?”

“No” you quickly responded turning to him.

“Stay” you gently reached your arm out to his hand taking hold of it.

“I’m fine, I promise” you took a deep breath and smiled but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. To reassure him you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around him, it took everything in him to keep his hands to himself afraid he would scare you off.

“Hold me” he looked you in your eyes and without saying a word you slowly felt his hands grab onto your waist.

“See? We’re ok” you smiled as he furrowed his brows.

“It wont ever happen again, I promise you that” he meant what he said and you trusted his word but in all reality, how could he be so sure? Not saying what you were thinking you nodded and lay your head on his chest as he held you silently against him..

[callmearcturus]

dottie lasso is the final boss of the show (and ted loses)

someone commented on my ted-is-a-feminine-junior-too post about recognizing dottie lasso and what she did, and i'm a Johnny-come-lately to this fandom so i missed all the discourse

but surely it's been discussed to death that Dottie Lasso is the Final Boss of Ted's life, right? like, she shows up on that bench and you should feel the opening of "MEGALOVANIA" in your soul because she's the villain of the story.

honestly, in Ted Lasso, the main villains are: Rupert Mannion, Twitter, Rupert Mannion again, cisnormativity/heteronormativity, and Dottie Lasso, kind of in that order IMO.

"Mom City" is kind of a genius episode with its thesis and punchline. Because Dottie shows up and derails Ted's entire life and not in a good way. She makes him palpably uncomfortable and all of his usual kindness and interest is just turned off around her.

This episode isn't shy about reminding the audience that Richmond has become Ted's home. From the most fish outta water who nearly gets killed looking the wrong way crossing the street, Ted knows his neighbors, knows the culture here, and is defensive with that knowledge because it's been hard-won over time.

No but really, look at how UNCOMFORTABLE Ted is EVERY MINUTE of this episode. It's so stark bc this charm offensive Dottie's doing on everyone at Richmond is so clearly a Lasso Thing. This is the exact tactic Ted used when he was new in town and completely at sea.

(fuck this got long, there's a lot more under the jump)

But he isn't charmed or permissive or entertained, he never once Yes, Ands what Dottie says. In fact, he corrects her all the time.

jesus fuck look at this specific moment!!!

who the fuck are you and where is ted

because Dottie being here is a nightmare. she's the person who knows the Ted Lasso Source Code and the way she maneuvers and nudges him, he seems helpless against it. So he continuously separates himself from her in what feels to me like a fearful reaction.

Like, when Dottie explains where she's staying, she does this trick

DOTTIE: An adorable little hostel. I've met so many Australians. They are backpacking through Europe. So much sex. TED: Mom. DOTTIE: Not me, the Australians. TED: No, no, I get it, okay. How about you stay here for the rest of your trip, all right? DOTTIE: Only if I'm not a hassle.

This is such a fucking move, you realize? She has been in London a fucking WEEK without telling him, then as soon as she tells him where she's staying, she, a midwestern mom to her open-minded but very romantically private son, invokes sex so he'll be uncomfortable with the situation and invite her to stay. This is a chess move they should call the Wichita Shuffle.

And Ted absolutely hates the way Dottie lies about him. The connection is pretty straightforward; Dottie deals with her trauma and pain by covering them up with pretty little lies and melting truths until they fit the shape she wants them to be in. Everything she says in this episode is bullshit.

(points up) THIS INCLUDED, BTW. This is the Ted that Dottie wants him to be, the guy who will fall on his sword at the first sign of someone else's discomfort.

But that isn't who Ted is anymore and Dottie saying this is vicious and cruel. It's disrespectful to Rebecca, to everyone at Richmond, and to the work Ted's done with Sharon.

which oooooooooh

hey, anyone else remember Ted's "I love meeting people's moms, it's like an instruction manual on why they're nuts" from S2? boy that's a brick joke

and this bit of dottie saying her anxiety re: ted's therapy out loud, that hissing sound is a fuse being lit in this moment

Ted calls her out directly. He knows how she operates because she raised him in her own image. As I noted in the other post, Leslie Higgins is not the only feminine junior at Richmond, so is Theodore Lasso, son of Dorothy Lasso.

THAT FUCKING DARK CHUCKLE, THE "YEAH OKAY" MOMENT this is the fuse finally reaching the dynamite

this is the moment, this moment of push-back, implicitly the first time Ted's ever pushed back in his life

this is the moment Dottie takes every single thing she knows about Ted, everything she put into him, and she destroys his fucking life with the exact four words it would take to make Ted give up everything he's worked for, all so he'll go back to being what she expects from him.

and hell if he doesn't know it.

everything he's done for himself, all the space he's finally allowed himself to fill, the progress and labor he's put into becoming a better person

mom shows up and tells him no, you're coming back.

(and the fact Dottie Lasso, a character who has not said five truthful things this entire episode, tells us how someone else feels should be questioned very fucking directly. i don't trust this woman to honestly report on Henry's opinion of peanut butter and jelly, let alone if he wants his father to give up his life and return to Kansas. i know every single fic has brought up the question of "hey why doesn't anyone ask Henry what he wants" but that's because SOMEONE needs to ask the question instead of taking Dorothy fucking Lasso's word for it, christ)

I don't know how tf you don't read this show as a tragedy. Dottie Lasso is incredible, she's so pitch-perfectly written and acted, and she's absolutely the final boss of the show. And Ted doesn't win that fight.

hell THE SHOW SAYS THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD, i would put the screencap here but I've run out of images, but THEY FUCK YOU UP, YOUR MUM AND DAD, THE SHOW SAYS IT this is a fantastic tragedy, i love it

[stllmnstr]

breathing room

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung is having a hard time breathing. 

Partly because he’s pretty sure he just got the wind knocked out of him. A little bit because of the year-old rib injury he had neither the time nor patience to let heal completely. 

And mostly because there’s a blade being held to his throat. 

Yours, to be exact. 

It’s a nice one, all things considered. Despite its lethality, it’s small, delicate almost. From this angle, he can just make out the detailing on the hilt. A series of vines wrap around each other intricately, forming kaleidoscopic patterns that extend all the way from the blade to where your fingers are wrapped around the hilt, knuckles white from the way your hand is straining. 

Jesus, he thinks. If it takes that much concentrated effort for you to not let the knife press any harder against his skin, draw any blood, then maybe he should start taking the threats you throw his way like extra change a little more seriously. 

Lazily, he lets his eyes trace a line from your fingers to your face. Skipping over the rather boring details of the plain black training shirt you wear, he directs his attention to the way your brow furrows in concentration instead. 

Under usual circumstances, a knife to the throat would encourage all of his senses to narrow in on the sensation of metal against his pulse point. Would spur his brain to work a bit faster through all the biological fight or flight mechanisms in a last ditch attempt at survival. 

But these are not usual circumstances. In fact, ever since the two of you were split into separate training cohorts a handful of months ago, this has become a rarity. And the only thing Heeseung wants to do is enjoy it a little more. 

Without his self-preservation instincts kicking in, his brain has plenty of room for other things. The forgiving surface of a training mat beneath him, slightly soft where he lets his body relax into it. The unusually warm air of the training room, courtesy of a busted air conditioner that no one has gotten around to fixing just yet. 

The way your hair falls around your face as you lean over him, chest still heaving from your recent bout of exertion. Your eyes are pure fire, embers and ashes and every stage in between as you sit atop his ribcage, knees on either side of his torso where you pin him to the mat. 

But even as the lead trainer adds another tally underneath your name for another sparring match won, your gaze doesn’t soften. Doesn’t brighten in the afterglow of victory. After all, victory only tastes sweet when it’s earned. Judging by the way your lips twist above him, Heeseung thinks the victory he just handed you on a silver platter must be horribly bitter. 

Slowly, he raises his hands in mock surrender. There’s a half smile that looks a little too much like a smirk tugging at his lips when he says, “I concede.”

“No fucking shit.” You flick a strand of hair out of your face. Your knife presses a little tighter against his throat. “Did you even try?”

Heeseung maintains eye contact. “I think I’m doing us a both a favor by not answering that one.”

Narrowing your eyes, annoyance makes itself the most prominent of your visible emotions. “Interesting choice of words from someone with a knife to his throat.”

Heeseung all but rolls his eyes. “What are you gonna do? Kill me in front of everyone?” The way he wraps sarcasm up in every syllable is almost as infuriating as the way he just let you win without putting up any semblance of a fight. “You’ve got a mean streak, princess, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”

The pressure on your blade increases, and Heeseung fights a wince as he feels it break the barrier between his skin and blood. It’s a miniscule cut, surface level at most, but he hears the threat all the same. “It’s like you want to die,” you marvel. 

Heeseung’s eyes betray nothing, other than the fact that they can’t quite seem to stray from your own. Does he? No matter how deep inside himself he searches, the answer is always a resounding no. Despite the effort he put into this particular spar, or rather lack thereof, his survival instincts are still kicking. His pursuit of life is still alive and well. 

So no, he doesn’t want to die. Quite the opposite in fact. But if he were to explain in plain terms that he never feels quite as alive as he does in the moments when you’ve got a knife on his throat and hatred in your eyes, he has the distinct feeling you might well and truly make good on your frequent promise to send him to an early grave. 

And it’s not like he means to do it, not really. Heeseung might be a glutton for punishment these days, but there was a time when he tried to get your attention in all the regular ways. As he quickly found out, sweet words did nothing but make you roll your eyes and his skills on a sparring mat were only as impressive as they could be used to hone your own. 

He was a tool, in your eyes. A means to an end as you did your best to work your way up the ranks. 

You never looked at him, the person behind all the hand-to-hand combat training and advanced levels of weapon artistry. At least not until he started annoying the ever-living shit out of you. 

Back then, it had been easy. As new recruits, you were in the same training cohort, which meant you had the same daily schedules. As long as Heeseung had the chance to beat you to the last piece of toast in the dining hall at breakfast or tie the laces of your training boots together the night before an early morning, he was guaranteed at least one of your signature glares and a few choice words that would make his grandmother blush. 

Granted, he knows that one-sided hatred is not a very stable foundation to build anything solid on, but he thinks of it in the same way he thinks of sparring. 

He doesn’t need a knockout. He just needs an in. 

A little bit of breathing room. Something that will have his partner lowering their guard, weakening their defenses just enough for him to strike. Once. Twice. Again. Over and over until the match is won and victory rests on his square shoulders. 

Heeseung’s in this for the long haul, and he’s come to find that he doesn’t really care how many bruises he picks up along the way. 

Across the room, the lead trainer heaves a long sigh. 

“Alright, ___, that’s enough. You’ve earned your tally.” The most of anyone in today’s group. But you’re still glaring at him, and he knows it isn’t enough, not for you. “Heeseung, get it together. I expect better from you next time.”

You scoff. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

Expectations are only met when people are held to them, and you doubt Lee Heeseung has even become acquainted with the concept of a consequence. 

Releasing one final, sharp exhale, you pull your knife away from his throat, tucking it back into the sheath on your upper thigh in one fluid motion. Swinging your leg over his torso, you remove your body from his own, give your anger some space to breathe. Without looking back, you let your strides eat up the distance between you and the exit. 

Someone – you think it must be Jay, or maybe Jungwon, tries to catch your attention on the way out, asking about a maneuver you pulled in the middle of the match. A tricky bit of knife work you’ve been perfecting over the last few weeks. Something that looked stupid as Heeseung did nothing but stand there, as if your blade was nothing but decorative. Made you look stupid as he stood and watched with nothing but a mildly amused expression on his face. 

You hate him for it. Want to show him just how pretty your knife can be stained with the deep crimson he must bleed as surely as anyone else. 

Lips pulled in a taut line, you unsheath the blade at your thigh once again, this time sending it spinning with deadly accuracy towards the line of trees that skirt the outside of the training facility. 

You don’t miss. You never do. 

It still feels like defeat. 

…..

Heeseung notices when you’re not at dinner later that evening. Despite the fact that you no longer train together, the inter-cohort spars have shifted this week's schedule. You should be here, sitting next to Jay and Jungwon, probably, pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

But you’re not. And he can only think of one other place to find you. 

The training hall is dark when he arrives, but Heeseung is no fool. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he sees you soon enough. Silhouette dark against the empty expanse, he has half a mind to intervene before you shred yet another punching bag to irreparable pieces. Instead, he just watches for a moment longer. 

He doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that start to simmer, that always linger. Doesn’t know if it’s admiration or longing or something far worse. 

But he wants to. Wants to examine them until he knows them as intimately as the back of his own hand, until he can recite them by name and express them in ways that don’t make you want to press a knife against his neck. 

And he wants to keep watching, keep looking, keep noticing. 

Even from a distance, even in the dark, he can read the frustration in the set of your shoulders, sense the exhaustion in the way your legs move just behind the rest of your body. 

You need a break. 

He needs an in. 

Across the room from you, Heeseung clears his throat. 

Startled, you nearly fall on your ass mid-kick before you turn to the source. It’s dark, but you know it’s him. Who else would it be? 

Chest rising and falling rapidly with exertion, you finally catch your breath well enough to tell him, “If you’re not here for a rematch, then you have exactly ten seconds to get out of this building.”

A beat passes. 

Another. 

Heeseung exhales. “And if I am?”

Bathed in the dying glow of moonlight, you go still. “Then you better put in your best fucking effort.”

Heeseung is across the room before you can release another breath. It’s ridiculous how quickly he disarms you. And you’re caught off guard, yes, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Your knife in his hands, he throws it to the corner of the room. And then it’s just the two of you. 

Heeseung spares neither time nor effort knocking your legs out from under you, sending you careening towards the mat. Screwing your eyes shut, you brace for the impact of a training mat that never comes, the back of your head cradled in a hand that serves as a barrier between you and the ground below. 

It’s a complete reversal of your earlier roles as he lets his legs fall to either side of you, face inches from your own. There’s no knife on your neck, and he was gracious enough to break your fall, but suddenly find your breath a difficult thing to catch regardless. 

Above you, his eyes are dark. Your noses nearly touch. “This is what you wanted?” he breathes, and you feel his words as much as you hear them. They dance across your cheekbone, your lips. Have your bones feeling molten, all your hard edges malleable. “You want me to fight you like I mean it? To really fucking spar with you?”

You’ve rehearsed your answer too long to deviate, even as your mind screams with sudden uncertainties. “Yes.”

Heeseung doesn’t spare it a second thought. “Too bad.”

“Why? You have no problem f–”

“I was there, you know.” Unbidden, the hand that doesn’t hold your head falls to the bottom edge of your black training shirt. Heeseung pauses there for a moment, lets his fingers trace the seam. Something in the air shifts, tightens, waits. Despite the way he has you caged, your hands are unbound. You could stop this, if you wanted to. Stop him. 

You don’t. 

Slowly, his hand begins to track an upward journey, taking your hem with it. The air of the room is warm, choked with summer heat and the odd sensations that simmer just beneath your skin, but you suppress a shiver anyway  as a sliver of skin is revealed. 

You know what he’s after, where his eyes fall to. It’s his fingers that hesitate. Dangle with uncertainty a hair's breadth from the scar that sits just above your hip bone. 

Heeseung inhales, eyes returning to your own for a moment. They’re searching for permission you won’t give and boundaries you won’t set. If he wants to walk this tightrope, he’ll have to navigate on his own. 

It’s a challenge he rises to. On his breath out, Heeseung lets his fingers find a home on the bare skin of your stomach, trace the jagged line that’s a shade paler than the surrounding area. 

It’s a scar you hardly think of, one you can’t believe he remembers. Gifted to you in your early days of training, when a fellow recruit thought the best way to better his ranking was to discard the strict sparring rules set by your superiors and draw blood as a last ditch attempt at victory.

You’d still won, even with a fresh stab wound on your lower abdomen. And he’d been shown the door, like all recruits that break protocol. 

“So what?” Your voice doesn’t come out nearly as biting as you intend it to. You curse the waver in your words. “I get one scar and suddenly I’m delicate?” 

Heeseung glances up, something sincere in his eyes when he matches your gaze. His hand is still on your skin. “We’re all delicate. And we all have the scars to prove it. I’ve just developed a particular… aversion to seeing evidence of it when it comes to you.”

You’re quick to school your features into neutrality. At least on the outside, you won’t give him the satisfaction of catching you off guard. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Apparently not,” Heeseung counters. “Since I’m not the one begging for a fight.” He holds your gaze when he adds, “And I have to say, princess, if you wanted me to put you on your back, there are much easier ways to ask.”

It’s as if you’ve been burned submerged in hot water, as if you’ve been burned, when you push him off of you with a speed that’s almost comical. And from the way heat rises in your cheeks, you just might have been. 

Your voice is dangerously low when you tell him, “You have three seconds.”

“Until what?” Heeseung knows better than to be hopeful. 

“Until I find my knife and put it to good use.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to be told twice.

[signedkoko]

Orders Up!

Looks like someone requested a.. squints eyes at notepad Vox xReader who’s VERY out of touch with technology! They BARELY know what a ‘phone’ is, and have absolutely no idea what his head could be other than an oddly shaped box. Maybe they lived in the Forrest in their past life?

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you don't get what this whole fuss about technology is, but you'll try it for Vox. Reader is genderneutral.

When you first arrived in hell, a lot came as a surprise

Going from the snowy mountains of solitudal living to the middle of the first city you'd ever been to was a lot to handle

Overwhelming, really

You know about the world and what's outside; you've seen photos in books, but you were never interested in it

So here you were, surrounded by the humming of electricity and the loudness of cars—music blasting at every corner

It was a lot

You and Vox met many years later, though you'd found yourself a quieter place to settle, you were still close enough to the bustle to run into people, and run into people you did

Well, he kind of forced it- Vox thought you were just the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, so he ran straight into you and played it off as 'clumsiness' when he caught you

You'd seen a lot of things in hell, but whatever he was wearing on his head was just strange

He'd meet with you frequently outside of his work hours, and he's probably blown away at how you don't know him or anything about the Vees!

" I mean, not to brag or anything, but I kind of run all of television. "

" Tele...vision? "

" No fucking way. "

Hes then asking what you thought his head was, and hes almost crying from how hard hes laughing when you can only answer with shapes

Though I think he enjoys the refreshing feeling of meeting someone with no expectations about what or who he is

Even when he tries to give you his personal number, he's surprised when you say you don't have a phone

Jesus, you really weren't kidding.

He will set you up with everything you need—I mean, who better to give you tech assistance than the very CEO himself?

You get only the newest, the best, although you don't really get how to make use of it, which kills him at least a bit inside

Probably makes custom shortcuts for you so you don't have to navigate too much because, Jesus, are you ever bad at it?

God forbid you ever move in, Vox is actually stressing so hard on how you'd cope with all the smart home features his building has.

Author's Note - You may be dumb but he love syou so very much...to be fair he couldn't survive a day without tech so thank god you're adapting to him!

[cheezewhis]

I'm going to regret this.

Sometimes the iwtv fandom makes me worry about the future of diversity in media. I mean I expect the racist assholes to pop up and bother everyone. That happens all the time and while it sucks, there are ways to filter those people out.

My big worry is honestly on the other end, where people are so desperate for harmony they end up treating minorities like monoliths of purity. Seriously, we have a show with morally grey characters of a variety of colors, a color conscious writing team, actors who constantly discuss the nuances of their characters, and people still find a reason to fight about this. Wasn't this the ideal we were asking for???

How are we supposed to evolve the representation in media if we can't go 2 seconds without fighting about which characters you're "allowed" to like?

You can't like Lestat because then you're condoning his behavior, but you can't condem anything Louis does cause then you're racist, but also you can't like Louis more than Armand because Louis was a pimp, but also you can't like Armand because he killed Claudia, but also that was all Lestat's fault and Armand did nothing wrong and if you don't ship Loumand it's because you're racist and if you do ship Loumand it's because you just hate Lestat and Anne Rice and puppies??? or something, and Clauida is the only character you're actually allowed to like except you are not allowed to like her unless you hate Lestat or Louis because as we've established it's really Lestat's fault she died and also Louis was a bad father and is responsible for Clauida's death so you cant like him either but also you are racist for thinking Louis did something wrong because black characters are not allowed to make mistakes or be nuanced or be human but also you don't get nuance if you like 1x05, you have to hate 1x05 because that episode of the toxic abusive vampire show dared to show toxic abusive vampires and ruined your precious precious perception of Lestat but also if you still like Lestat after that then you must hate Louis because Louis is 5 fucking years old and needs to be coddled but also he's a piece of shit and you cant like him and idk i don't really hear people argue about Daniel but maybe I'm just not looking hard enough and who ever cares cause I lost the plot about 100 fucking words ago.

Like jesus fuck we'll never weed out the racist people in the fandom cause we're too fucking busy fighting each other about, like, if we should let black characters be nuanced and interact with white characters who are mean??? Istg half this fandom thinks Louis (and Jacob Anderson for that matter) is like a battered helpless child who has never been able to stand up for himself. Louis is a character built from very real pain, he's always going to be kind of sad by virtue of that, but he's not 5, he can make decisions for himself.

How the fuck are we supposed to normalize diversity in media if we can't be fucking normal about diversity in media.

Fuck. Everything. And. Everyone.

[supernova41st]

Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who is genuinely terrifying. Like there quiet, sneaky, uncanny, basically reader is kinda like the mercs very own cryptid. (Bonus points if reader is tall af<3)

Boo 🤍

A/n: Spy’s is a little short here 😣 I hope you weren’t too eager to see his lol. I got a little experimental with this one, not too much tho. Also I’ll be going on another break, I know I just finished one but I’m going through an unexpected rough time rn. So sorry guys, hope you enjoy <33

Warnings: Video used may be a spoiler for s2 of scream queens, Praying is used in a humorous light

To start things off, you introduced yourself in the worst way possible. The bus that you were supposed to take got broken down so you had to find your way through the base without knowing where the entrance was. So what’d you do? Bang into a bunch of glass windows at 3am while it was RAINING. Some of the mercs were up trying to fix up the power generator and..

I saved that clip for weeks I’m so happy I have a reason to use it now

I know they’re all supposed to be big bad mercs but you scared the living FUCK out of them.

Scout

This man went running. He went all the way from the generator to the fucking bunks in the span of a minute! So what’d he do when he got to his room? He grabbed his cross necklace, got on his knees, and started PRAYING.

“Please god Jesus frickin’ Christ hear my prayers, save me-I’m sorry about all those magazines I keep under my bunk and I’m sorry that I told spy to go fuck himself when he told me I couldn’t pull bitches and I’m sorry I call girls bitches please just don’t let me friggin’ die dude!!”

He just kept chanting the same things until Miss Pauling found him cradling himself on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Scout what are you doing?”

“THERE IS A GHOST IN THE BASE.”

“Oh, you mean y/n?”

‘Hi 👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️’

Yea he was pretty freaked out by you. To make it worse, you always just stare at him. He can’t remember a single moment where he looked at you and didn’t catch your tiny pupils locked onto him.

At first he’d just gently wave awkwardly while you did the same so freakishly. Eventually he decided to say something because it was scaring him, something he’ll never admit

“Yo you got a problem or somethin’, what’s with all the stares?”

“Nothing, I just like looking at you. Your structure pleases me.”

“..oh, well that’s actually-wait I thought-hold on do you really-pfft-Yeesh, I didn’t expect you out of everyone to haha.. Yknow”

Yeah he was blushing like crazy, such a straightforward compliment.

He’s still scared of you, but he uses you as his hype man every now and then. He’ll fish for compliments and WILL receive them

“Dontcha think I got some nice racks for a guy?”

“..Totally”

He could literally walk up to you and threaten to kill you and your reaction is just “yuh go for it”

If you’re freakishly tall then he calls you tree. Cuz

If you’re on the shorter side then he would just pick you up from the shoulders and kiss you on the forehead. He knows you won’t do shit, you’re literally just 🧍‍♀️

(gotg reference)

“I am hideous? :(“

“You kiddin’? You’re horrifying to look at”

Engineer

He didn’t even notice everyone else went running, he just kept on working on the electrical box. So when he stood up and saw you staring straight into the glass, he jumped a little but was mostly just confused

“What in the..”

“tap tap-Can you let me in?”

You’re lucky he didn’t go running like everyone else, you probably would’ve died from the flu if you spent another second outside in the freezing rain.

He puts a bell on you. He just had one laying around and tied it around the your wrist, it didn’t work because of how stiff your movements were so to ‘help’ you rang it against his ear.

“..”

“…..🔔🔔🔔🔔”

“GOD DAMN IT- oh, y/n”

“Sorry, the bell wasn’t ringing how you wanted it to so I rang it myself”

“Uh-huh, thanks for the warning partner”

From my experience southern people love to make conversation, but you aren’t really familiar with that. So when he tries to flirt it gets pretty awkward

“How’s it goin’ sugar, I reckon your looking quite nice today”

“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️”

“..you gonna say anythin’ back?”

“Oh, um.. I like your face.”

“Woah, alright then.”

He feels so embarrassed when he stands next to your tall ass, it makes him feel belittled. Especially when you actively have to look down just to make eye contact

But if you’re short then he loves it. Finally for once he doesn’t have to be reminded of his height when standing next to anyone.

Spy

He’s gone as soon as you show up. Like straight up disappears. He doesn’t like to show fear-makes him look weak

He’s convinced you could still see him though, cuz you happen to look in his direction even while he was invisible.

You don’t scare him as much as the others, if anything he took a bit of a liking to you because you stressed him out the least compared to the others. He always stood next to you + you were always his first pick for missions

You always make small talk with him. He doesn’t enjoy it but he still responds

“What is under your mask?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Why? Do you look like me?”

Spy doesn’t know if he should feel offended or annoyed

You don’t necessarily startle him like everyone else but you do make his heart jump slightly when you pop out of nowhere, you can see it in his pupils but never his body.

Pyro

HE RAN TOO BUT DIDN’T KNOW WHY LMFAO

He just saw everyone running and went ‘oh okay we’re doing this now 🏃‍♂️’

But seriously, he fell in love with you at first sight. Your features felt so intricate to him, you always gave each other blank stares, zoning into each other’s eyes.

‘⚫️ ⚫️’

“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️ hi”

“⚫️ ⚫️ mmf”

You’re the only person who can fully understand him. No, not using his body language, you can actually tell what he’s saying. He aw’s at that, finally someone knows what he’s saying.

It makes him more self aware than how he was before, he’ll say some really petty shit and when you react he panics

“Mmph mmm”

“um pyro I need you to calm yourself”

“Mm!”

Somehow you disturb HIM, you’ll point something out to him and talk to him like he’s crazy which makes him crazy

“Pyro, you reek of fire, it’s 30° outside, and it’s a cease day. Do you have any thoughts?”

“Mmmf mmm mph ☹️”

*plz leave me alone

Since you and him are so observant, the rest of the mercs are a little spooked by you guys. You’ll be in the corner with him watching and everyone is fairly weirded out.

“Mm mmmfmm mm”

“Pyro you’re hilarious.”

“What did thing say?”

“He said that if you were a littlest pet shop figure you’d be #508”

“..heavy is not sure what he expected”

[lesbiansforboromir]

Alright, I was holding off for journalistic integrity but now that I've seen the WotR film I can make posts about it without restraint.

Jesus christ the racial politics of this film are atrocious. Some character might as well just tell Wulf 'not to play the race card'. Wulf is a liberal snowflake who blames racism for all his troubles and can't pull himself up by his bootstraps and he is also brown-skinned and obsessively pursues our PORCLAIN white dainty-drawn female protagonist with both romantic and murderous intent. Oppression of dunlendings by the Rohirrim exists only in Wulf's head apparently, though it can be tasted in every spat 'dunlending' perjorative that comes from Helm or Haleth's mouth. But Hera has absolutely no racism within her of course! She refuses Wulf because she doesnt want to marry anyone and Wulf just assumes it's because his dunlending blood disgusts her, so entitled of him!

But also maybe the racism is '''justified'''? If it exists? Which it doesn't! But IF it did, don't worry because ONCE AGAIN all the dunlendings are just greedy, clutching, unwashed, skull wearing, violent barbarians with no unique culture to speak of and no reasons to be making war on Rohan except to sieze what isn't theirs (ignoring the fact that it totally was theirs until Rohan seized it from them and OH BOY are we ignorin' that) And the only dunlending we see not frothing at the mouth for violence or showing any introspective depth at all is General Targg who is the mouthpiece with which we get to hear 'the girl (Hera) is right' whereupon he is promptly killed by Wulf.

Oh but of course, what else could Helm have done? Freca was some greedy FAT man (boy does everyone love calling him fat, happy to lean into THAT aspect of canon) whose lands were too prosperous for his own good (hang on isn't keeping your lands prosperous the platonic ideal of lordship?) And he called a 'Witan' (no he didn't, he came to one of the regular councils of lords that Helm called himself) just to make a scene about how Helm was going to marry Hera to a lord of gondor which is bad because Gondor has some nebulous hold over Rohan so Hera should marry Wulf instead (literally none of that, Freca simply asked Helm to wed his daughter to Wulf, his son, a completely normal and legitimate political strategy to secure a better relationship with the King's family since Helm already mistrusted him for having dunlending blood. Freca is a lord of Rohan, he is rich, he traces his ancestry back to King Freawine, this could not be a more reasonable suggestion in canon.)

SO OBVIOUSLY Helm had to get angry and call Freca fat again (true he did do that) and THEN claim that Freca only wanted his throne (there was never any suggestion of this in the books, it was just the offer of marriage which insulted Helm) to which Freca answered "Old kings that refuse a proffered staff may fall on their knees," and Helm is like okay lets take this outside.

And now THIS change is actually so important in understanding the extreme nature of the Rohir/Helm favouritism that is the main focus of this film. In the film Helm pretty much immediately takes Freca outside, he reassures Frealaf that Freca just needs to be shown his place, this is the only way to settle the matter, if he doesn't embarass him here then Freca will try to take his crown and slay his family apparently, his hunch ig etc etc. Freca punches Helm three times in full view of the whole of Edoras including Freca's two men who came with him, then Helm punches him back and he is knocked out cold and dead by the time he hits the ground. Film!Helm does not realise he has done this and tells Freca to get up, Wulf realises his father is dead and threatens Helm with revenge, swords are draw against him which he tries to calm before Wulf attacks him. Helm incapacitates Wulf, his sons draw THEIR swords and Helm exiles Wulf for drawing his sword on his king. Messy right? Like not a good thing to do, generally brawling with your lords is a bad idea full stop, but if you fear for the lives of your children then idk maybe it's excusable? And then it's just an unfortunate series of events right? And Freca was rude and insulting to a king in his own halls, heat of the moment etc etc

I feel so comfortable in telling you that Helm murders Freca in cold blood in the books, fully intending that to be the outcome.

He does not take him outside initially, Book!Helm tells Freca that this marriage dispute isn't important and they will deal with it later. And then;

When the council was over, Helm stood up and laid his great hand on Freca’s shoulder, saying: "The king does not permit brawls in his house, but men are freer outside"; and he forced Freca to walk before him out from Edoras into the field. To Freca’s men that came up he said: "Be off ! We need no hearers. We are going to speak of a private matter alone. Go and talk to my men!" And they looked and saw that the king’s men and his friends far outnumbered them, and they drew back. "Now, Dunlending," said the king, "you have only Helm to deal with, alone and unarmed. But you have said much already, and it is my turn to speak. Freca, your folly has grown with your belly. You talk of a staff! If Helm dislikes a crooked staff that is thrust on him, he breaks it. So!" With that he smote Freca such a blow with his fist that he fell back stunned, and died soon after. Helm then proclaimed Freca’s son and near kin the king’s enemies; and they fled, for at once Helm sent many men riding to the west marches.

(Appendices, 'The House of Eorl', emphasis mine)

I think we can all agree that forcing someone out of your city, isolating them away from their fellows with threats of violence, telling them you will break them, killing them in one blow and then proclaiming their kin your enemies and forcing them to flee to escape a murderous pursuit, is pretty clearly premeditated murder. There is not much nuance here, Freca tresspassed over a line with Helm that Dunlendings are not allowed to cross and Helm killed him for it.

And listen like, the description of this whole story within the appendices is barely more than three pages. This is not an obscure missable aspect of the tale, nor is it outside of what rights they had to adapt. The choice was made, actively, ONCE AGAIN by the Warner Bros cinematic universe makers, to drastically alter book events in order to sand down any immorality within Rohan's narrative, especially where the Dunlendings are concerned. And in the end the only 'mistake' Helm is allowed to learn and grow from is some nebulous and trite 'not believing enough in his daughter' schpiel, which needs to be the subject of a whole 'nother post actually.

And what's agonising is they COULD have done it like they were so close, there are multiple moments where me and my friend watching were like struck!! With grief! Over how impactful this moment could have been if only the racism actually existed as an acknowledged theme in the story. If only it was something Hera had to come to terms with, if only IT was the true driver of these horrors to the point where it's Avatar, Hera's father, a man who loves her and whom she has loved all her life, turns into a cold icey ghost of brutality, far more vicious and barbaric than the people he so reviles, and reveals to her the terrible truth of his actions and motivations. It's agony I tell you.

Anyway I did not like the film.

[princessbrunette]

jj making you kiss his cock because you made it hurt

(you were wearing his shirt and it made him harder than it should have😭😭😭😭)

-🏹

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎀༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

he’s been holding himself back all day, trying not to be a total perv. you’re just existing, and with your sweet nature there’s no way you know to that extent how much you’re torturing him as you walk around in his muscle tank and a pair of cotton panties. your side boobs are on display, one wrong move from a nip slip every five seconds— just going about your day, walking around the kitchen of his house making some late lunch.

you lift your arms up, arching your back trying to crack it as you stretch, a quiet moan leaving you from how good it felt. apparently, that was his final straw.

“no, nope— you gotta— there’s no way you don’t know what you’re doin’ young lady.” he marches over, pointing a finger which rustles the black bracelets on his wrist at the force. you turn and face him, all confused and doe eyed as expected.

“huh?”

“dont huh me…” he corners you against the kitchen counter pressing his hard on directly against your front, a small gasp leaving you. “yeah, know what that is don’t ‘ya? you are killing me.” he hisses, a tinge of amusement in his otherwise serious tone. he looks good, lounging around in only a black backwards cap and grey sweat-shorts, his shirt being stolen right off his floor by you.

“what did i do?” you mewl, allowing him to manhandle you — slipping his hands round your back to your ass cheeks so he could pull you even harder against him, clearly trying to relieve himself with some friction.

“walk around in my shirt. lookin’ all sexy n’shit. this right here should be a crime. you should definitely let me lock you up f’that. shit, maybe i’ll handcuff you too.” he teases with a shrug and your lashes flutter at the suggestion. “you got some penance to do, missy.”

“what do you want me to do jayj? didn’t know i was teasing you i swear.” you promise, jutting your bottom lip out poutily. unable to resist, he leans in to kiss it — but stops right before he does, hovering over your lips with a better idea.

“gotta kiss the booboo, babydoll.” he steps back casually, standing crotch forward with his hands on his hips as he gazes down at his clear erection. “you made it hurt so like, it’s only fair you kiss it better right?” he explains further when you continue to blink at him.

“yay!” you giggle, delighted by the idea as you sink to your knees — barely giving yourself enough time to get comfortable as you eagerly bury yourself into the musky material of his shorts, kissing him everywhere all up and down his covered cock. he rolls his tongue over his lips before biting down, stomach tensing at the feeling of you mouthing at him, happy little moans leaving you.

“jesus, really getting in there, huh?” he comments and you nod happily, pulling back from a moment to look up at him lovingly.

“can i suck it? will that make it all better?” you mewl needily, and for a second he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he sighs, a chuckle rolling off the end of it as he bends at the waist, clutching your chin and cheeks in his hand.

“nothin’ would make me happier, sweetcheeks.” he smiles before reaching down and slowly dragging the hem of your shirt up until your tits spill out. “wouldnt complain about you lettin’ me see these pretty ass titties either.”

you briskly remove the shirt, and without being asked you peel your panties off too — totally naked on the kitchen floor making him wince, dick unfathomably hard. you press your body to his legs and get back to work, licking the grey material of his shorts until it was shades darker above where his dick lay.

“eaaaasy, damn. down girl, how about you let me take you somewhere a lil’ more comfortable, yeah?”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎀༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

[n3ptoonz]

mind writing for the Earthrealm men getting caught masturbating by the reader??👀

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to getting caught 🥩 👊🏾 by reader

warnings: suggestive; a lil steamy, i play too much (was sick and ovulating while writing this help me god), GERAS SPOTTED???

reverse roles here

Johnny Cage

Left the door open on purpose. WIDE OPEN. There he lied on his silk linens, blasting Marvin Gaye and going to town without taking his eyes off the door. Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he added a sexy ninja mime (i will never stop referencing past games) to act out him getting caught

When you "catch" him all you can do is facepalm, but it's outta love. Expect to have him let loose 50 cheesy pick up lines, dick in hand and all. Like he would still jerk it like he wasn't stuttering over his words once you took over

If you join the cheesy line fun, he may or may not cum on the spot. He loves when you're playful back. And tease him a lot. But like. Way more than he teases you. He can and will fall in love all over again (he will also bust quickly to this too. MULTIPLE times)

Raiden

This cutie pie. Snookums bbg. Blushing like a fool because you managed to overhear him utter your name multiple times in a hushed voice dripping with lust

I fully see him falling out of his bed and scrambling to pull his covers down with him just to cover his lower half. He gets even more nervous when he sees you not even attempting to leave, but instead having an inviting look on your face

Cue the comically loud gulp sound effect. His pretty brown eyes never left your figure, sitting on the hardwood floor with a painful erection between his thighs under a rather comfortable blanket. You'd have to ask if he wants help from your own lips, otherwise no sound would be in the room other than steady breathing and his heart thumping loud as hell (he says yes at the speed of light)

Smoke

Deer in headlights. One minute ago he was furiously zerkin it like there was no tomorrow, slutty sounds escaping his lips with no shame. Now he's like...oh...! You heard that..? Ahahah..

Would apologize so many times he ends up doing it in Czech. Please tell him it's okay😭In fact you'd only shut him up by telling him it was hot

Activates self indulgence beam I think...he'd be into it if you told him to finish what he started. Like sitting in a chair and watching him and he's not allowed to close his eyes- IM GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF (fic idea huehue)(if you write it before me, tag me.) But also albeit he stumbles over his words, he'd find some sort of way to ask for your help

Geras

WHAT!!! GERAS I KNOW WTF WHAT yeah he may be an immortal being but the man has his own needs. And is it even a question like...you're wondering how THAT fits in his hand like jesus christ you're going to kill someone sir (i got next)

It's nothing extravagant. He wasn't summoned by Liu Kang for a while, so he figured why not? He doesn't get much time to himself so let's crank one real quick 👀

Think of any scene from mk11 where he got "hurt" and was grunting, that's the sounds he was making and you could hear it through his door. But you thought he was hurt, so you came through the door just to be greeted by a SNAKE in his grip

Surprisingly calm...almost too calm...did he predict this? Who knows, all we know is you interrupted him and would definitely like your help. Does not shy away from this request too but that's how we like it 😈

Liu Kang

A similar incident with Geras. You overheard him while you wandered through his mansion trying to find and surprise him. So when you finally found his bedroom door and barged in, thinking he needed help, there he was dick in hand and completely unexpecting

He would try to remain calm but it would be clear as day that he was nervous. He'd quickly cover up with a pillow and give a small smile, asking if you needed anything like he wasn't shirtless and heart pumping at mach speeds

In his mind was like a static sound as he tried to focus on not getting hard again looking at you, feeling a little guilty as he couldn't help his instincts. I guess the God contract never said escaping from mortal desires! You offer to join the fun and he's like HUH...well, if you insist! (again he looks calm but is very, very excited, i promise)

Kung Lao

He had been schmeat beating after his long days of training so this isn't a new occurrence for him. But obviously, you've never walked in on him before. He was always able to get it done before he saw or met with you

Normally you rendezvous to Madam Bo's but you're like hm, why not bring him something to eat since you know he had a long day! Once you entered it didn't take you long to hear him calling your name from his room, so naturally you thought he knew you were here. But...it started to become like a chant. His voice breathy and deep (save me shaolin monk save me-) So when you check it out you find him with his head thrown back, hair messy and coated in sweat

The favoritism is leaking through the screen LMFAOOO He heard the door creak and yelped, asking why you were there so early out of breath you held the to-go bag in your hands with pure shock, immediately getting the idea to tease the shit out of him. He does it to you all the time, why not return the favor?! And he's like well?? Are you gonna help??? UH YA I WAS GETTING TO THAT😹😹

Scorpion

Kuai Liang rarely ever has the time to even talk to you, let alone talk to himself! So one of the few times he didn't think you were showing up to the temple but he had time to himself that he didn't think would last very long, he just needed to relieve his own stress real quick

Damn, he forgot he invited you to the temple since it was a slow day. You were appointed to his room by one of the recruits and sang his name, opening the door to the sound of squelching and panting

Your little song came to a stop at the same time of his gasp; eyes locked on yours. He wanted to smile, and drop everything to greet you like the situation wasn't what it was, but before he could even begin to hide himself you calmly close the door and watch his demeanor quickly switch to smug...it's gonna be a long day for the both of you😮‍💨

Sub-Zero

I'm using the same scenario from my first bi-han fic bc i said so, bite me!

He was avoiding you because he couldn't control himself around you any longer. The more he thought about you and how you pissed him off to great lengths before has him wanting to do terrible...terrible things (shoutout loki)(i've never seen loki) but he must suffice with pleasuring himself to the thought of you, the way your voice rang in his head, and how hot you looked patching up his injuries

When you caught him oh he was so sexually frustrated he couldn't think straight, panically pulling you into his room dick swinging and all. The scowl on his face didn't match the pink blush that was starting to form at how you looked at him. Why you were at his door is the least of his concerns, if you don't help him take care of this right now he might lose his mind 🥹

Kenshi Takahashi

He wasn't supposed to be last but I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and lost my notes on him so. LETS TRY THIS SHIT AGAIN.

When you caught him he was so so embarrassed. Don't let the calm and hot and sexy demeanor fool you, when it came to you it's like he's a clone; unrecognizable. He was stuttering and trying to justify whatever you just saw but then also asks why you showed up unannounced

You explain he said to come around this time a few days ago to spend some time together, and now he was mentally kicking himself bc how could he forget something so simple?! But hey, the fact that you weren't even budging, and even approaching him with a smile on your face told him all he needed to know. And who is he to say no to some help from a fine individual like you???

a/n: cranked this request out for y'all (fic might be posted today) this is a gift from me to you guys 😄 happy christmas and merry holidays to any and all cultures that do or don't celebrate during this time fr ❤️