#lets see if the censors come for me

[miz-chase]

eyes emoji

[xxplastic-cubexx]

thinkin bout magneto's lil list of aliases from that One Shot of his government file or w/e in 97 and how it lists the three main men who've played him (David Hemblen, Ian McKellen, Michael Fassbender) and kinda cackling at the idea 1.) if they included All his names 2.) having 'michael' on that list twice

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s6 episode 3 thoughts

okay. i have been told that this one is good. and i recognize the title of this episode from a piece of art i saw once where scully had a dress on. which made me need to catch my breath.

so. i am excited!!

let us read the episode description... hmm. i was one of those kids who was really worried about the bermuda triangle when i was little, so this might be healing for me. or make things worse.

mulder… don’t piss me off again! i still haven't forgiven you for that comment!!

ehehehehheeee, i’m excited!!!

post-episode thoughts: i am typing this after just having finished the episode, and i am feeling secret emotions i did not know existed an hour or so ago. wow. the nature of reality is that it can be SO profound. and i don’t even fully know what did or didn’t happen, which i believe was cultivated intentionally, but the friendships we made along the way were so real.

mulder, i will figure out what your deal is. scully, i will hold and cherish you forever.

we open on some waaaater. it seems a shipwreck has taken place!! NO, IS THAT DEAD MULDER? COME ON NOW, I DON’T WANT THAT. 

okay. intro time. so maybe he isn’t dead. maybe he was napping. underwater. 

SHORTENED INTRO AND NEW WORDS!!!!! “die wahrheit ist irgendwo da draußen” okaaaaay! i don’t speak german 💜 but i have a guess as to what that means

(and upon googling it, i was correct... yay! also, someone please appreciate my effort in going to wikipedia and copying and pasting the ß character just so i wouldn't get cancelled by the german speakers of the internet)

they’re pulling him out of the water!!!! and “they” sound like they are from across the pond!! but they are also speaking german, so who knows. whoever “they” are, they sure don’t recognize him.

they’re gonna throw him back overboard!!! but they find his ID and no one has ever heard of the FBI. he is baffled by this. how do you not know about the FBI? well, buddy, from the uniforms these fellows are wearing, i have some theories

the sailors take him to the captain and they’re beating him up!!! no one is bothering to introduce themselves. rude af??

ohhhh, he’s on the queen anne, which is the boat he came looking for!! so now he knows what is afoot. time warp. yeah.

LMAOOOOO he recites the EXACT location of the ship. okay. listen, i haven’t FORGIVEN him, but that is endearing. aww. i love when he nerds out.

ohhh noooo, they tell him it’s 1939 and hitler has just invaded poland and also this boat!! mulder thinks that the members of this ship have popped on over to 1998, but the opposite has happened!!! how is he gonna get out of this one?!

“it’s okay! the war’s over! let ‘em take you to germany, they make nice cars!” <- LMAOOOOO HE IS SO CONVINCED 

absolutely wild thing to say to someone who thinks that the nazis are afoot...

that is a grown man giggling and laughing because his time warp theory came true <3

he goes over to the radio and tries to call for help... and i am again impressed that he knows what he is doing on an old timey radio, but maybe that is a required FBI skill…. but the radio actually says that it *is* september 3rd, 1939, and there is war with germany!!!!

“oh, sh-" oh nooooo…. he has miscalculated……!!!

a german approaches!! it’s so hard to see because everything is SO DARK!! which is a pattern i am noticing after 3 episodes of this season!!! but mulder is hiding!!! and then he sneaks out and beats tf out of the german guy!!!

IT’S SPENDER?????

what. 

is he tripping…..?

you know, logistics of if this is actually happening in canon or merely mulder's head aside, more fight scenes should take place to andrews sisters songs

so mulder steals spender’s german uniform and puts it on, but he cannot respond to the people yelling at him in german!!!! does he have the advantage from studying this particular ship for years?? LMAO yeah, he hid around the corner! don't let anyone tell you that studying the layouts of boats that disappeared decades ago is useless knowledge!

woaaaah, there’s a fancy dance going on somewhere else!!! mulder enters the dance floor in his uniform!!!! and tries to flirt with the singer...

HE FINDS SCULLY!!!! BUT SHE THINKS HE’S A NAZI!!!!!! she has no idea who tf he is even though he is trying to explain. oh my GOD, she says she’s gonna punch him!!!!

oh. i’m blushing… scully in a dress with her hair like that….

the nazis burst in with guns and SHE HAD TO TRANSLATE FOR HIM…… because she knows a little german….

who is this man that she is dancing with?

“yeah, you’re all big men now, but wait until you get to russia! hope you fellas like the cold!” he yells out as they drag him away, and yet again i ask: LMAOOOO, WHAT IS GOING ON?

they’re dragging him to the deck! and the captain is saying he refuses to give up the ship!!! and the germans shoot him!!!

OH SHIT!!! IT’S CSM THAT TOLD HIM TO PULL THE TRIGGER??

i don’t know enough about german to know if he’s delivering those lines authentically, but it sounds convincing to me

someone finds his ID… SKINNER???? WHAT IS GOING ONNNN??

so they probably do not want to kill him if he is a proven american, which hopefully means he can get through the rest of the day until mercury comes out of retrograde or whatever 

oooo, present day!!! scully at a desk!! seems weird. i guess you have to be careful what you wish for.

BUT NOT AS WEIRD AS THE LONE GUNMEN ARRIVING AT HER PLACE OF WORK??? they say that mulder is in big trouble!!!

“the walls have ears” “i have ears, will you tell me what’s going on?” <- lmao, she’s such a smartass 

they try and explain what is going on, and she knows the queen anne right away!!! and is handling this news that it showed up this morning pretty well, all things considered.

“that’s impossible” “satellite doesn’t lie” “there’s nothing ON HERE!” <- BAHAHA, maybe i spoke too soon about her handling this news well

so the lone gunmen told him they found the queen anne, he chartered a boat, and has since gone missing!!!

love that they probably had been watching satellite on the bermuda triangle for years now to have noticed a sudden appearance. and love that mulder seemed to have a plan for what to do when that day finally arrived. truly, the lone gunmen and him match each other's freak.

they tell scully she needs to get information from the pentagon, and she heads off to go get it!!!

oh boy, kersh is gonna have a field day with this.

they’re filming this as one big walking shot, which is a cool effect 

BAHAHA, SHE WALTZES RIGHT INTO SKINNER’S OFFICE!! SHE IS NOT WAITING, and he is fully on the phone, but she does not give a FUCK, and that is my QUEEN!!!!

omg is she going to get in trouble for coming to see him… i’m nervous!!!

skinner hangs up and starts listening RIGHT AWAY!! oh yes!!!! 

OHHHH…. he doesn’t want to talk to her or hear whatever she has to say!!! 

his assistant sadly says “she walked right past me” LMAOOOO

OH SHIT, THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING!!! “you’re out of line, agent scully” “no, sir, you’re out of line” <- YEAH, SHE IS GONNA CALL HIM SIR WHILE YELLING AT HIM!!! THAT IS MY GIRL!!

“i’m sorry, but i’m coming to you for help, and i’ve got nowhere else to go. i would hope that after everything that we have been through that you’d at least have the courtesy and the decency, and not to mention the respect, to listen to what i have to say” <- OHHHH YOU TELL HIM 🔥 THAT IS FIVE FEET OF RAGE!!

he starts whining about losing his job and his pension and she ROLLS HER FUCKING EYES LMAOOOO she has had ENOUGH!!!

can she call in a favor on her father’s memory to the navy people??

she goes to open the door but he SLAMS IT SHUT OMFG????? 

(this moment was CRAAAAZY)

“use your head, scully. it’ll save your ass” “save your own ass, sir. you’ll save your head along with it”

oh my GOD, she would say “save your own ass, SIR”, that is just so her. oh, she is in her detective era, and she is not going to play nice!!!!!

skinner… i want to know what you are thinking… maybe he thinks she can call in a favor in her father’s memory like i thought…

(more post-episode thoughts: i also think that it is really interesting that she trusts the lone gunmen enough that she hears what they have to say and then IMMEDIATELY goes straight to skinner because she knows they wouldn't lie to her. even if their story sounds ridiculous, there has to be some element of truth to it, because it's Them, and they have helped the agents for so long, and they wouldn't joke about mulder being in trouble. and it's also very interesting how she drops absolutely everything and barely formulates a plan as to what to do next, because scully is usually the queen of plans and knowing what to do, and so rarely do we get to see her being impulsive... i just think it's neat)

they’re still filming this as one continuous action shot, which is so cool, and also was probably a major pain to accomplish. 

OHHH, she’s nervous!! scully is smacking the paper with the info she needs to know around in the elevator, and she hits someone who says “ouch!” and she mumbles “sorry” OHHHH, SCULLY…. my heart... she needs to save the day and she has no time for this, but she still feels bad for smacking that lady!!! ohhh my god, i just wanna put her in a nice blanket and give her a movie to watch. stop stressing her out.

she shoves through this other secretary to get to KERSH!! she must be really desperate to come to him!!! is this a trap??

FUCK!!! CSM WAS IN THERE!!!! AND HE HEARD HER SAY THAT SHE NEEDED INFORMATION OF MAXIMUM IMPORTANCE!!

nooo, she’s regretting coming in unannounced 💔💔💔 poor queen is nervously playing with her hair and then pacing the halls….. and she left the information she needed with kersh!!! so now he knows what it is she wants!!! this cannot be good!!!

she’s mumbling “what am i thinking? what am i thinking?” and calling someone on her cell!!!

but of course mulder does not pick up due to being on a different realm!!

(funny that she was in such a panic mode that she literally did not think to call him until this very moment LMAOOOO)

HOLY FUCK!!!! MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR??? SHE GOES TO SPENDER?? “i want you to do me a favor. it’s not negotiable. either you do it, or i kill you. you understand?” <- HOLY HELL???

oh, i’m blushing and giggling and also aware that this will probably have negative career consequences for her since she just threatened CSM's most special baby boy, but i cannot pick my jaw off of the floor…..

“you okay, agent scully?” “no, i’m not. i’m a gun ready to go off, so don’t test me, spender, don’t even THINK about trying to weasel me”

ohhhh my GOD. she says she will “hunt him down” if he doesn’t come back right away with what she needs, and she doesn’t care what or who he has to do to get the answer. and then realizing how insane this sounds, she mumbles “oh god” to herself quietly.

well, the good news is, this is so uncharacteristic for her that if it’s her word against spender’s, they might be pretty evenly matched. i mean, maybe he has the promotion, but she has the longer record of service, and while she may have been demoted to domestic terrorism, she is known as the scientist and rationalist, soooo…

(i cannot quite figure out what relationship spender has to her. he sounded legitimately concerned and did not question her at all. is his personal fury more directed at mulder? i mean, there was that horrible moment where he implied that mulder was using her that was all thick and weird and tense, and he probably still has residual anger from her talking to his mother, but he doesn't seem as mad at her as he is at mulder, because if mulder came in there and did that he would have simply pulled out his gun)

very sad to see that the basement office is now filled with spender's things. i noticed he has some medal on the wall. but cannot tell what it comes from. it's far too organized!

spender leaves, and the basement office phone rings!!! and she picks it up!!! IT’S CSM??? he thinks she is diana so she LOWERS HER VOICE A LITTLE TO PRETEND TO BE HER… and he wants to know about the paper scully handed kersh!!!

LMAOOOO, HE GETS SUSPICIOUS AND SHE HANGS UP 

NOOO, SPENDER SNITCHED TO KERSH??? she calls him a rat bastard and SPRINTS OUT, LMAOOOO

i am at once amused and stressed tf out

she gets in the elevator and yells “STUPID” which i deeply relate to. some people are not great at being impulsive. her cell phone rings and she picks it up and it’s... maybe mulder???? but he is very garbled!!!

NOOOO, SHE WALKS ONTO THE FLOOR WHERE CSM AND KERSH ARE 💔💔 she goes right back into the elevator as they point at her LMAO

she is still yelling into her phone and she runs into SKINNER!!!!! it was actually HIM that was on the phone, not mulder!!

and he has the info she needs and she KISSES HIM???? ON THE LIPS??? what the hell, oh my god. 

i’m literally gasping for air, oh my god. what the hell am i watching? GOD. imagine being skinner right now. wait hold, on i’m genuinely fucking crying. tears of laughter, mind you. he must have been SO thrown off. imagine your best and most loyal agent who nearly died a horrible death is back from the grave, but now you can’t talk to her because she's trying to expose the evil government, but you did talk to her anyway to save her bestie’s ass, and she smooches you. and you’re trapped in the elevator and you might lose your job.

god. i’m fucking losing it. the way her eyes were open as she kissed him.

BUT SKINNER IS AN IMPROV LEGEND!! because he gets off on the floor where CSM and spender were, and he LOUDLY yells at her that if she EVER asks him to break protocol he will have her OUT OF THE FBI RIGHT AWAY!!!

SKINNER!! MY KING!!!!!!!!!!!

god. i still need to do that best skinner moments from s5 post.

AND SHE’S GETTING PICKED UP BY THE LONE GUNMEN IN THEIR WAGON, LMAOOOO

spender is sprinting behind them, but alas! he cannot outrun a wagon.

mulder, meanwhile, is explaining world war two to the guys who are currently in it, and hating on the spice girls. rude. spice up your life. 

OHHH, someone who will build the atom bomb is on the boat… and mulder puts that together and explains it to someone who turns out to be a german spy!! wait, was scully dancing with EINSTEIN?? or oppenheimer or someone? clearly i was too invested with her hair and dress and how she was threatening to punch mulder to pay too much attention

(there was no oppenheimer nor einstein and i feel vindicated)

there’s a big fight as mulder declares they ought to turn the ship around and go back the way they came so they can return to the present and avoid germany winning the war!!!!!

it’s so dark, it’s hard to tell what is going on as they run about the ship. ohhhh they bring mulder back to the dance hall…. CSM wants him to identify who can make the bomb….. and if he doesn’t answer the question, they will kill passengers!!! NOOOO, they did kill someone!!!!!

OH SHIT, SCULLY STEPS FORWARD, SAYING THAT SPENDER IS KILLING INNOCENT PEOPLE OVER NOTHING BECAUSE MULDER DOESN’T KNOW…. but he has HER at gunpoint now!!!

NOOOOO, THE GUY THEY KILLED WAS THE SCIENTIST…. where does this leave them… does past scully have to invent the atom bomb…?

meanwhile, the lone gunmen and scully are off in the bermuda triangle, and the queen anne is right there!!!! so can they get on there and save the day?? what is the proper course of action here?!

back inside the ship in the year of our lord 1939, mulder is yelling nursery rhymes at the nazis, and scully claims to be the scientist who can end the war. but some other guy says that HE is the scientist and she was sent here to protect him, so they take THAT guy away.

1939 scully curses at CSM in german, and then they are going to EXECUTE THEM??? but the engine shuts down!!! it’s brawl time!!!

modern scully and the lone gunmen are breaking into the ship trying to find mulder!! while a jazzy soundtrack plays!! and mulder and past scully are trying to save the ship!!

he’s leading past scully… but they get caught…. BY GERMAN SKINNER?? WHO SAYS “god bless america, get your asses out of here” <- YAAAAAS DAT IST MEIN UNCLE!!!!

past scully and present scully nearly collide!! while the ballroom brawl continues in the past!! 

past mulder has to convince past scully to get them to turn the ship around or else he’ll never be born!!!

i love that he explains it to her through the lens of einstein because he knows that she would have that as a frame of reference. because there is no scully, past or present or future, who wouldn't know about einstein. that's a very cute nod to her thesis.

AND THEN. LONG MAKEOUT SESSION. IN CASE WE NEVER MEET AGAIN????

my JAW. is once AGAIN. on the FLOOR.

(the darkness of this season is pissing me off. i wanted to see that in HIGH QUALITY!)

she PUNCHES HIM, he remarks that he was expecting a left jab, and then he JUMPS OFF THE SIDE OF THE BOAT??

past scully tosses a life preserver over!!!! and we’re back to the present!!!!

ohhh, mulder has flowers by his hospital bed, and the lone gunmen and skinner are all there… they must have fished him out!!

he’s trying to explain to her how she saved the world!!! and she just sarcastically agrees.

and the queen anne was just a ghost ship!!!!

(turns out a ghost ship means a ship with nobody on it, not a phantom of a boat. this is important to know because at first i was like "wtf, scully believes in ghosts now, but only for boats?")

skinner tells mulder that he better get well soon because is going to kick his ass (deserved) and then he and the gunmen leave. but scully stays behind.

“i would’ve never seen you again. but you believed me” (she leans in) “in your dreams” 

ohhh... it is sickeningly sweet as she tells him to go to sleep.

“hey, scully?” (he sits up) “yes?” (loooong silence) “i love you” “…oh, brother”

(as she leaves, he cradles the eye where past scully punched him in the face, smiling)

oh my god. i mean, it’s not like we really needed confirmation that he had feelings for her, but. like. that was it. he said the words. and then held his face where she punched him and remembered kissing her.

so, did the time warp really happen? who is to say? it’s fun to turn around both possibilities in your mind. the possibility that past scully really did believe him and was able to save the world AND the possibility that it would only happen in his dreams. 

there is so much to analyze here.

spender being a nazi… and skinner being a nazi… and CSM being a nazi… some of these make more sense than others. what are the implications... spender could speak both languages... is that an indication he is a double agent?

her saying “oh brother” to his love confession… oh my god, she must have thought he was sky high… i wonder how she felt hearing him say that? i wonder if she thought it was a joke, or if he really meant it, or it was the insane ramblings of someone very ill. i wonder if part of her felt crushed to hear those words, like that fragile thing that they have between them was being tampered with. or i wonder if she had always wanted to hear him say that and never let herself imagine it. either way, better to approach it from the angle of a sick man's mumbling. probably the only way to make sense of it. but i know she went home Wondering.

and what are they going to do about scully’s erratic behavior???? she normally conducts herself with such rationality! and today she barged in on two assistant directors, threatened to kill spender, and then ran off with the gunmen in a wagon! oh my god!!! i guess we won’t know!!! it looks like the next episode is a two parter, so i doubt that we will have time to examine the consequences from today.

but then again, rationality isn't ALWAYS her thing. gestures to all of the times she has nearly killed someone for getting between her and mulder before.

if you do consider the time warp to have actually happened, it’s very interesting that it shows scully has the capacity for belief. this whole episode was analyzing how scully responds to crisis- but that particular crisis being losing him for real. there have been close calls before, but this was unexpected and bizarre. usually she is very calm in crisis. but there are certain things in life you simply cannot prepare for. there’s FBI training on hostage situations and disease protocol, but nothing for “your partner travels back in time”

skinner…. my best friend…. he put it all on the line for them AND made an incredibly convincing performance in front of spender and CSM… the oscar goes to him

oh scully, i just. oh my god, man. i love her!!! her being impulsive because she had no choice!!! telling spender she would kill him!!! and then going in the hallway and mumbling “stupid, stupid”!!! apologizing for smacking that lady!!! kissing her boss on the mouth with her eyeballs open because she was so overcome with emotion!! that is MY disaster medical doctor special agent scully!!

and mulder thinking he was going to to die slash never be born at all so he KISSED her while he could…. and then back in the real world using his delirium as an excuse to say “i love you”, to hear how those words sound coming from his mouth… just to know what it felt like...

oh my god. i need to snuggle into a big cuddly blanket and scream a little.

so, now let us analyze mulder's recent behavior, stretching from the tail end of s5 to now. and you have to promise that you won't tell me if any particular theories i put forward are right or wrong! you can only comment on if you think my proposed theories are interesting. because i assume that YOU know why mulder is being weird (snapping at scully, agreeing to go undercover, fucking off to investigate a ship, and then confessing love despite his actions and words indicating disdain, etc) but i just do not.

i can put together from the comments left on my last posts and vague subtext in the show itself that there is SOMETHING afoot with mulder, which is why he is acting like a dick. but i cannot figure out WHAT it is. my guess is that maybe he is in some sort of danger so he’s trying to push scully away?? in an attempt to save her?? like when he went undercover, but maybe something even bigger and scarier??? but maybe he could use his vulnerability to confess how he really felt while he had the chance?? and then he will go back to being all moody?? because he thinks that he is in danger and doesn't have much time left? and maybe he thinks that if he acts all rude and terrible scully will be able to handle his demise?

the only other thing i can guess (and again: don’t tell me if i’m right or wrong!! i just want to voice my thoughts) is that maybe something is happening with his mom?? but if his mom was sick or dying or something, it still doesn’t make sense for him to take it out on scully. but then again, people take their rage out on each other in real life all the time, even if it doesn't make any sense.

maybe it’s something with his sister? i mean we saw his “sister” that CSM brought to him a while ago, but it was never addressed again… i mean, i don’t believe it was really her anyway, but maybe he thinks that diana can help him find her?? because she came back into town for some unfinished business or for family or something- what was it she said in the car with gibson? so maybe they’re plotting something together?? and he thinks (stupidly) that diana can help him with some secret thing he cannot tell scully about???

man. i don’t know. and i will have to just keep moving forward to find out. which means i will probably have to endure more bitchy mulder before i get answers. and then once i DO get answers, i will have to see if i judge them to be valid or not. 

but let us not look too far into the future. let us look to what we have been given, which is 1939 AU scully in a beautiful red backless dress, and noir detective canon scully, and sleepy, loopy, delirious lover boy mulder, and skinner who is the best boss around, and three guys in a wagon who will save their buddy from a time-traveling ship. and that is so beautiful. amen.

i realize i wrote all of that and never outright stated my feelings on the episode. while you probably picked up on it, but i did enjoy it! i was laughing and gasping and blushing and giggling. it was nice to have a change in pace. i thought the way it was shot was really interesting as well, with all of the perpetual motion. it had many of the things i consider integral to a good episode, which include, but are not limited to: skinner acting prickly and detached but then pulling through and saving the day, scully threatening to kill people and commanding a scene, mulder nerding tf out and reciting facts, fun costumes, MSR bait, and things you can turn around in your head over and over to make your own interpretations on! i'm not sure if it would make my top 15 episodes list just because it was SO zany and i'm having trouble wrapping my head around that, but definitely a contender.

i have a feeling my thoughts on this episode will grow and change with time, which is perfectly acceptable. i'll try to crack the symbolism of mulder's time warp visions in more detail moving forward, and i will probably find scully's panic somewhat out of character, if endearing. but you only get to watch something for the first time once. and so we share this moment together, you and i.

[icantalk710]

Wish the party loyalist "stop making Harris look bad bc Trump" people would realize that a) denying reality is exactly what the right does and b) it is on the candidate to win votes by not being a genocide enabling sellout moderate getting endorsed by the fucking Cheneys for her hawkishness on foreign policy while promising little for people at home, not on the voter disillusioned by said issues that the candidate could rectify

[carlos-tk]

I hear we’re teasing this smutty sunday so 🍆🍑🍌and any other fruit euphemisms you’d like to use 😉

thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @rmd-writes @carlos-in-glasses

following on from last weeks seven sentence sunday here’s some more colleagues fic where they are definitely not 🤥 getting it on in the workplace

“Happy now?” he asks and TK preens, cocky as ever. His back straight against the seat, looking the picture of comfort. Forearms flat against the armrests, hands gripping the ends of them, his thighs splayed. His previously crisp pale blue shirt is now rumpled, half unbuttoned, his obvious erection laying against his thigh. It pressing against the resistance of his too tight slacks, begging to be touched. Carlos thinks he looks like a waking wet dream, all pretty and debauched for him, because of him. They’ve barely started and he’s already riled up.

“Peachy,” he replies, grinning up at him and Carlos lets his tongue trail across his own bottom lip. “How about we find something for that pretty mouth to do instead of complaining hmm,” he muses and TK whines.

Carlos steps between his open legs, trailing his fingers across TK’s chest, his chin. His thumb coming to a stop against TK’s plush pink lips.

“Open up baby,” he commands and TK obeys. He widens his lips enough to leave a gap for Carlos to sink his thumb into his waiting mouth. He sucks against the pad of it eagerly and twirls his tongue around it, Carlos practically f*cking it into his mouth. He removes it a minute later and TK pathetically whines at the loss of contact.

Carlos lets out a breathy laugh, the facade of how turned on he is himself starting to fade. “I’ll give you what you want baby,” he assures, “didn’t anyone teach you that patience is a virtue,” he adds. TK’s voice is hoarse with want when he answers. “Well maybe I’m not feeling so virtuous right now,” he pouts and that stirs another laugh out of Carlos.

A moment later, Carlos relents. Because whilst it’s fun to tease TK, if he doesn’t get his d*ck sucked soon he’s going to embarrassingly finish in his pants, and that’s way less fun than what he and TK both want.

some no pressure tags below the cut 💗

@wtfuckevenknows @welcometololaland @celeritas2997 @reyesstrand @three-drink-amy @reyestrandd @inkweedandlizards @inflarescent @orchidscript @alrightbuckaroo @strandnreyes @firstprince-history-huh @bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @lemonlyman-dotcom @liminalmemories21 @herefortarlos @birdclowns @basilsunrise @noxsoulmate and YOU 💗

[soleadita]

me: makes a silly little teen wolf post on my silly little tiny blog

rabid sc*tt stans i literally have never crossed paths with ever in my entire life: derek hale is the devil incarnate, actually, and here’s why

[mimpinightmare]

VERY HEAVYILY ON WHAT HAPPENED TO JOMO-

(I'm still waiting for that next season, MoonBug. /HJ & Half Delusional-)

never ask a man his salary. never ask a woman her age. never ask a supa strikas fan about:

early season dingaan (i still shiver to this day)

early season el matador (yeah this one's also REAL bad)

LITERALLY ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING FROM S1-2

why klaus is still not a starter... sigh its tiring out here

fc nakama. bc we'll be here all day

where the banger minor characters went!!!!!

the show's timeline. seriously i thought cognito was a new team but as rookie season goes... it's apparently NOT??

how old any of them are

WTF HAPPENED TO JOMO (MOONBUG IM LOOKING AT YOU!!!)

speaking of which. never ask me how tf invincible united got away w hiring an actor to play shakes' supposedly dead dad. that HAS to be a federal offense

sp*ke d*ws*n

s7 finale "game over"

the youtube thumbnails

which voice actor voices who exactly

how the fuck these guys keep falling for inyo's trap

dooma's debut

the show's obsession w feet

the characters' casual clothes... yikes

shakes/skarra. you don't wanna open that can of worms

HOW THESE GUYS ARE STILL ALIVE

what the show is about. DON'T EVER ASK ME THIS. I DO NOT KNOW

[definitelymanitoba]

ok, gonna do one of those notes posts because i’m bored, although very few people will actually see this probably lol.

✔️ 10 notes and i’ll properly sort out all my laundry (this is a cry for help the situation is getting ridiculous)

✔️ 20 notes and i’ll try to get better at remembering to drink water

✔️ 50 notes and i’ll plot out more of my novel

✔️ 100 notes and i’ll post more photos of my pets >:)

✔️ 150 notes and i’ll dye my hair again (i want to do this anyways)

✔️ 250 notes and i’ll clean up the rest of my room

✔️ 400 notes and i’ll make a poll o’ hair colours to let y’all decide what colour i’m dying my hair because i am indecisive

✔️ 500 notes and i’ll post a (face censored) picture of me with my hair dyed for Proof :)

✔️ 800 notes and I’ll begrudgingly try cold peanut butter (this is for you @morbidcrow24)

and finally the Unachievable On Purpose goals.. (which i’ll do Eventually Anyways)

5000 notes and i’ll come out to my siblings as trans.

15000 notes and i’ll come out to my PARENTS as trans

good luck, and absolutely no pressure i am literally doing this for the fun of it

edit: this notes post is closed for many reasons, but thank you to all who reblogged anyways.

[idolomantises]

Wasn't sure when it would be the best time to discuss this, but since the ending is drawing near... yes, Bugtopia is ending.

It was a decision I really wrestled with myself for months over it, before finally concluding that letting it end after 40 episodes was the better option. Just to be clear, webtoons did not force me to end the series. They even offered to give me a pay raise to continue the series. It was my decision due to a multitude of personal factors. I'll just repeat what I said on my patreon:

I just want to say, first of all, thank you all so much for patiently waiting for my series to release and for supporting my work as I began developing the series. Bugtopia was a series I genuinely loved and adored and it made me feel so incredibly happy that people were turning their heads towards a series about weird bugs and their natural lives.

However, as you can probably guess, it pains me to say that I am concluding the series after season 1. I had 4 seasons planned with new characters to introduce, but unfortunately, I cannot see myself continuing to work with Webtoons and I want to pursue other projects.

This decision was due to a compiling number of issues with the company, the final straw was when they had a mass layoff, fired my editor that I've been working with for two years, and did not inform me for a week, leaving me in the dark until they randomly assigned me with someone else. My new editor is great and I'm glad I'm working with someone so patient and understanding, but this decision to fire my previous editor, the one who got me the job to begin with, without prior warning made me feel disrespected and disregarded, and it killed all motivation I had for properly completing the series.

I also felt incredibly overworked, I was spending vacation days working on comics and avoiding time with family just so I could get something done for webtoons once I come home. I feel like so much time was being wasted away for a company that paid me so little that I had to work twice as hard building up funds on my patreon. Bugtopia just ate up so much of my time. The pay also didn't make up for it. It's commonly assumed that webtoons authors make about $800 for the episodes they do, but that's not true. In fact, you can make far less depending on the amount of panels expected for your contract. It doesn't help that the artwork i did for banners and promotions were all things I had to draw and didn't get paid for, and the work I gave was either tampered with or scrapped, making me feel like I spent more hours of my day wasting time. There were also comics I had to censor and scrap, likely due to another series being in hot water for its racially insensitive content. But it was just extra work I wasn't being paid for. It also frustrated me because I was seeing other series with far more explicit content getting away with a slap on the wrist (turns out you can't say "fuck" anymore without it being hit with a mature rating, disappointing!)

In all honesty, it just felt like webtoons needed me more than I needed them. I was making more money from patreon in a week than I was making from webtoons in a month.

Personally, while I don't really regret my time with Webtoons and met some great people along the way, I honestly don't think any artist should work with them. You will be severely overworked and underpaid, and will barely be featured in ads unless your series becomes an instant hit immediately. It doesn't really matter how successful you are, you're just a product to Webtoons, put yourself above the corporation.

I have tried my best to provide you all with a satisfying conclusion to Bugtopia, even if some episodes may feel rushed or incomplete, but I completely understand if the conclusion isn't to your liking and I do apologize, but I could not continue working on this series if this was the mistreatment I was going to continuously get. I owe a massive thank you to my editor and assistants for helping me complete the series, I truly don't think I could have ever finished it without them.

Though I am done with Bugtopia, that does not mean I want to stop projects entirely, so please don't feel bad for me. I have a lot of upcoming projects and ideas in the works, and I'm still continuing the Monsters and Girls series.

Will Bugtopia ever return... possibly. I retain complete ownership of the series after a few years, and I wouldn't mind continuing the canvas series (or possibly starting over). Unfortunately I don't think I can continue the Webtoon Original as it belongs to webtoons now, but never say never I suppose!

[vyva-melinkolya]

we all agree that the push towards short form, vertical video (tiktok/reels/shorts) is ruining fucking everything right? Tiktok has been useful for the dissemination of political information (e.g Gaza) i’ll give it that, but that feels moreso a result of meta and twitters algorithms being just a little *more*’evil and censor happy. And i want to make it very clear that my hatred for tiktok has nothing to do with the fact that it was a product of a Chinese company, because i see a lot of critiques relying on some sort of sinophobic conspiracy. On the contrary, it’s what tiktok has become in the vacuum of western popular culture and marketing that makes me fearful.

I know that every generation faces a new, polarizing technology and inevitably, there are those among said generation who will critique it. That is the nature of things. However, there is also something to be said about how, with the acceleration of technology (running parallel to the acceleration of capitalism, acceleration towards collapse etc), each coming generation faces an increasingly more malevolent “advancement”. TLDR, i’m going to talk my shit.

I’m going to speak on the aspect that is most relavent to me, as a musician. I am petrified by what short form video is doing to music and to musicians. I think that tiktok provides the illusion of making music and being a musician more “accessible” while actually pouring gasoline on the fire that the pop music machine had already started. Standards for what popular culture “expects” from music are being doubled and tripled. Let’s talk about song length. Success and marketability favoring shorter songs is not something new, it has been the trend for decades. But with short form video, it goes even further. You’re not just hearing the same song over and over on the radio, you’re hearing the same 15-30 seconds of the same song over and over again. This in-turn, starts to influence the way people write music, persuading people to make songs that *could* have that 15 second appeal. There is an art to pop music, there is an art to writing a catchy hook—this is something else. We weren’t meant to hear or understand music like that. There are so many songs from reels that i found annoying, until i heard them in their full context. It’s insidious. It makes everything feel like a fucking commercial, even if nothing is being advertised.

I’m going to pull directly from someone else’s experiences, someone who’s music seems to be everywhere on short form videos. The ambient musician My Head Is Empty has a hundred million streams on the song “i was only temporary”. Despite that exposure, they experience “never ending copywrite issues” and have “received death threats” by people who refuse to credit them when using their song. Pulling a quote here, from a comment on their own post

“vyva_melinkolya unfortunately it just gets worse. i saw a bot content page that steals pod cast footage and spams dozens of videos with my song stolen, comment on a "motivation" spam content , who actually made a post telling people the name of my song, and the previous page i mentioned, the pod cast spam commented on that video saying "Bro stop don't give out the sauce. this audio helps me pull numbers brooo" - so people are actively INTENTIONALLY stealing it and telling people to not credit me. like. u can't make this stuff up”

Beyond this, My Head Is Empty feels frustrated that despite all this exposure, the rest of their work (nine albums) as a musician remains under appreciated, and i think that frustration is 100% valid. People cannot fully appreciate music, or even understand it as a work of art created by another human, when it’s taken so far out of its context. Again, the soul being sucked out of art by “the machine” isn’t anything new but, this is a whole other level. Being a musician is more expensive than ever, streaming earns you fractions of a cent etc, it all feeds into itself.

When a song or a musician i love deeply finds its way on to tiktok (let’s use Duster’s “Stars Will Fall”, one of my favorite songs ever as an example)I am not upset that i cant “gatekeep” it anymore. I’m not upset by the idea of something I love and hold dearly finding a larger audience. I AM upset in the manner in which it is being disseminated. I’m upset with art I hold dear to me being chopped up and used as “trending audio”. When I saw Duster in concert recently, lStars Will Fall” was the song I was most looking forward to hearing. It was the last song they played, and it was the song seemly everyone chose to talk loudly over. The audience was mostly people my age and younger. This complaint might come off as petty or pretentious or cliche, i frankly do not give a shit.

Let’s talk about how musicians are expected to promote music on tiktok/reels. This is a matter of opinion, at the risk of sounding very pretentious: the “POV we are x band from x” “My label says i need x followers before x” “posting this video until c musician notices me”. I understand that some of it is in jest but, what the fuck? When did this become the norm? I do not blame anyone for promoting their music like this, but we should want more for ourselves. I’ve always said being a musician is deeply embarassing, inherently. If being a musician is inherently embarassing then what is this? I dont have a solution for this, and the music industry has always been ugly and bloodthirsty and seldom fruitful— but i feel like the very small amount of dignity we had as artists is now lost and I cant fucking stand it. Artists seem to promote the same single with dozens of reels over the course of months, hoping that something sticks. I dont want to sound like i’m shaming or, again, sound like i can provide a solution. I’m just very fucking sorry that it seems like this is “the way”. And personally, i’m scared that if i dont “get with the program”, im going to fail.

Again, all of this speaks to larger trends in entertainment industry and even larger trends in capitalism. But i’m just airing specifics right now because frankly? I cant take it anymore.

[lalalychee-x]

"Bad Idea!" Boothill x Reader ft. his hat

CW: NSFW! MDNI! fem!reader; sex where ur on a window sill; squirting + licking it off again lol; slight exhibitionism (the door's open); biting; Boothill's tongue has its own warning; clothes ripping; fingering; robo-dick and cyborg fingers lmao; creampie; blood from biting is mentioned like twice and barely; teasing; braless; begging; edging; sweet and soft Boothill bc he's a cutie; empty warnings; he can't breathe since he doesn't have lungs?? word count: 3415 oopsie

song4this Bad Idea by Ariana Grande

♡ Whenever Boothill's hat goes missing, he knows you're responsible, so it ends up with him hunting around for you. You run away with his hat on to tease him, and he runs after you, playfully nibbling at your cheek. It's all fun and games until the hat is the only thing you have on.. ♡ Basically, you steal his hat to tease him, but end up getting fucked silly until you apologise to him. With the hat on. And only the hat on. "Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so ya got it."

inspo post from @madamofthestars (psst, check them out! They super cool!) art creds: skoukax on insta

"C'mon now, sugar, ya know that ain't yours…!" Boothill called out behind out, his voice a mixture of frustration and amusement.

You rolled your eyes, quickly glancing back through a spin on your heel; the hat wobbling slightly as you held it in place with one hand.

You look back at him, sticking your tongue out, before giggling and darting off. You sharply turned a corner, your heart racing as you waited for the perfect moment to lead him down a wilder chase.

Boothill scoffs, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, "Oh, gettin' smart now, are we?"

You spin back around, your heart racing as the clicking of his boots gets closer and quicker, "I am smart!" You taunted him a little, the brim of the hat bobbing as you picked up speed.

"Ya little fudgin' minx," Boothill muttered under his breath, his curses amusingly censored as they reached your ears. "I swear, when I get my hands on ya…"

"You can't even swear properly!" You call out again, turning your head as you ran, setting the hat askew.

You catch a glimpse of him running towards you, the sight beyond amusing to see when running at such speed. You attempt to call back, but your voice dissolves into a fit of giggles and gasps for air as you ran.

You snapped your head back, facing forward to drag out the chase. It was all fun and games until you realised you'd diverted your attention for too long and cornered yourself in a dead-end room. Boothill's imposing figure filled the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were panting but your index and thumb firmly gripped the brim of the hat, assuring it stayed on your head.

A room was an overstatement; a storage room, just maybe, with a singular horizontal window panel that stretched about a meter wide at most. It let in a few spells of moonlight.

Boothill leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over the metal plates of his chest, "Gotcha now," He laughed, the star-shaped insignia on his jacket clicking against the metal of his torso as he did so. "My hat looks mighty fine on ya, but I think it's time ya give it back."

You adjusted the hat, spining it on your low on your brow.

"Come on, just a little longer—?" You teased, batting your eyelashes in a futile attempt to charm him.

"No can do, darlin'," He chuckled again, pushing the door shut behind him. The room dimmed as the light from outside blocked out. "But if ya apologise, I'ma let you have it a bit longer."

"Ok ok, sorry!" You smile sheepishly, reaching a hand to the hat. "There, can I keep it for longer?"

Boothill looked at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were joking. "That it?"

"Well, else do you want me to say?" You stood there, a bit dumbfounded.

He stared for a second longer before edging himself closer, his face close to yours, bionic fingers tracing up and down your neck. "C'mon, apologise properly."

He tipped the hat up by the brim to expose your eyes better to him. He leaned down, the sharp edges of his teeth latching onto the soft skin of your cheek, pressing hard enough that they'd definitely leave jagged crescent-shaped scars in the morning.

He moved some hair away from your neck, his voice low against your ear as he nibbled across your jaw, "C'mon sweetcheeks, I know ya can work that mouth better than tha't. What happened to all tha't smart talk from before, hm?"

A flushed heat crawled up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink even in the dim light. It took a moment, before your quickening gasps dissolved into stutters, "A-ah, that was a j-joke…"

"A j-j-joke?" He laughed low against your ear, playfully mocking your stutter, "But you look to be takin' it real serious, sweetheart."

He paused, before licking a long stipe down from your jaw down to your collar bone. "M'still wanting that pretty lil' apology. C'mon."

God, his tongue was going to drive you insane-

You let out a shaky breath, lowering your hand from the hat on your head to place comfortably on his metal shoulder plates. "Hey hey, sorry sorry, I won't steal your hat again, ah—!"

You gasped, almost buckling over as Boothill planted a particularly mean bite through the thin skin of your collarbone.

Glancing down through hazy eyes, you watched as he swiped his tongue over his teeth, licking away the small beads of blood across his jagged dentures. "Ya said that last time too, darlin'."

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, "C'mon, I mean it this… t-time-!"

Your eyes widened, watching Boothill's teeth latch onto the neckline of your dress, yanking it roughly until it ripped. You yelped at the sudden rush of cool air against your bare chest, nipples hardening under the sudden exposure.

"Boothill!" Your arms snapped around the obnoxious tear in your clothes. "The door's practically still open!"

He chuckled, tracing a line with his sharp teeth along your breast.

He raised an eyebrow, "No bra? Yer askin' for it now, sweetheart."

Your face felt really warm again, excuses coming out nothing more than mutters, "I-It… was really warm, today…"

"Aight then, darlin'," he cupped his metal palms under your thighs, hoisting you up until you sat on the window sill, your back pressed against the pane of the window. "Besides, if we get caught, then they jus' gonna havet' give us some privacy…"

You gulped away any nervousness as he shyed away your arms from your chest. He trailed his mouth down your teared bodice, ripping fabric as he went, until he reached the waistline of your dress. He paused for a moment, before ripping a tear down it, right to the hem of the skirt, the sliced fabric falling either side of your thighs.

Goosebumps raced up the exposed skin of your thighs, eyeing when he knelt down, two loud clanks as the metal joints of his knees hit the floor.

He grinned at the sight of the thin fabric of your underwear, running his teeth along his teeth again.

"What pretty panties, hm? Was half expectin' yer to be bare down here too, sweetheart." He lifted your right leg over his shoulder. "Shame 'm gonna rip 'em so soon."

"Hey—! Come on, c-careful!" You shivered slightly as his canines hooked around the stretchy fabric, piercing a hole in them.

"Right darlin'. It's ya punishment for not apologisin'."

"H-huh—?"

There was a staggered ripping sound as your underwear ripped from top corner to bottom corner, the material coming off with the dragging of his teeth.

You yelp, gripping his hair, "You—! Are you going to fucking shred everything I'm wearing—?!"

"Yeah, am plannin' on it, darlin'." He chuckled before trailing his tongue up your slit, already a drooling mess between your legs.

You shiver, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, the door cracked open only making your heart race faster. Oh Aeons, if someone were to see you exposed to him like this, pressed up against the window—

"Shh, relax sweetheart. The thrill's the best part. Jus' breathe for me, ok?" He began to rub up and down your slit, his voice soothing and his thumb lingering at your clit for a moment too long just to force a whine out of you. "But if I were ya, I'd start apologisin' if you wanna cum this time."

"H-haah—?!"

He didn't respond to your breathless protest, but circled two fingers around your entrance, watching amused as slick pooled on his fingertips. "Stubborn? Y'need some encouragement, do ya?"

He licked a long stripe up again letting tongue swirl around your clit before slipping a finger in, his mouth still hot against your folds.

He grinned and looked up at your nervous expression melting into pleasure, his head leaning against the inside of your thigh. "There y'go, sweetheart, ain't that feel good?"

"Hnngh—!" You desperately tried to roll your hips on his finger, only to fail and your body halt into a series stutters.

"Really fudgin' desperate, are we?" He laughed a little, sucking in a breath. "Hol' on, darlin', I'll find it."

He slid his finger in and out tantalisingly slow, his tongue brushing over your clit; you could feel the steel of his teeth occasionally that irked your body with shocks of pleasure. Content with your faltering ego, he slipped another finger in, the stretch making you wince before whining.

"B-boothill, 'm sorry, please-let-me-just, a-ah—!" Your eyes widen, one hand curved over and gripping the window sill and the other firmly on his hair.

"Hm, what's that darlin'?" He stupidly grins, his bottom lip glossed over with spit and your arousal. "Didn't quite hear ya…"

He curled his two fingers upwards, the rubber pads on his fingertips pressing firmly against that sweet spot deep inside you.

"F-fuckkknngh…" Your eyes roll out of focus, hips subcounciously rocking against his bent fingers and your back arched until your head pressed against the window pane — with the hat still on.

He clicked his tongue. "There. 'M found it. Now where are my sorries and Iwontdoitagain's?" He began to pump the two fingers in and out, roughly pressing against that sweet spot every thrust of them. "Still want a proper apology, sweetheart—"

He stays substantially quiet — amiss a few amused hums and chuckles — listening to your flurry of apologies and letting you listen to the sloppy squelches of your cunt.

"God, I'm sorry— I won't—"

"Oh, is that so, darlin'?"

"H-hn, god, I won't do it again—!"

"Sure ya won't, darlin'…" He sucked in a breath, voice shaky between your legs, before picking up the pace with a stupid grin on his face, flashing his shark teeth. You whine, rocking your hips in helpless stutters, your pussy openly accepting the change in pace and clenching around his digits while he curls them deeper and quicker inside of you. "Fuckfuckfuckk— I'm sorry, sorrysorry— pleasejust—"

Boothill grinned at your mush of words. Your mouth hung open, chewing at your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to muffle the drunk blabbles that spilled out of your mouth.

He mutters, his voice low between your trembling thighs, "C'mon sweetheart, y'mouth can beg better than that." He rolls his tongue over your clit again, pumping his fingers in and out, sticky threads leaking from your cunt and sprawling between his fingers and the sides of your thighs.

You clenched your eyes shut, tears pricking at your eyes, "Boothill, c'mon, 'm sorryyy— w-won't do it again— promise—!"He lets out a low hum, gently flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue— oh god, his damned tongue. A flash of panic spread across your face, feeling him begin to slow down.

"Or what, sweetheart?" He experimentally twisted his hand agonisingly slow as he pumped in and out, pistoning your cunt with his fingers at deeper angles, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Please, 'm gonna — hic — c-cum—!" Tears began pricking at your eyes, "God, please, fuck, I've learned my lesson —!" Your pleas come out in choked sobs, "Please don't — hic — slow down—!"

"Attagirl," He grinned, the flat steel of his teeth pressed up against your slit as his tongue flit over that bundle of nerves at the tip that drove you insane, quicker this time, "Jus' a bit more, yeah?"

He slid in for a final time and jerked his hand upwards, settling his fingers into you, firmly hooking repeatedly into that sweet spot. His voice and laugh were teasing, vibrations low and tempting between the plush of your thighs. "C'mon — make a real fudgin' mess on m'face, sweetheart."

"B-boothill, 'm gonna—!"

Your fingers grip the smooth locks of his hair, head pushed against the glass, his name shamelessly spilling out of your mouth. Specks of white flash from behind your eyes, vision going hazy and choked moans straggering from your throat.

You hear him chuckle lightly underneath you, cooing at the clench around his fingers and the gushes of viscid liquid coating his tongue, lips and fingers so well.

He slowly pulled away after rubbing strangely vexing circles a few more times inside you. He glances up at you with a satisfied grin, his mouth and chin glossy with your fluids.

Lowering your thigh from his shoulder, he let it dangle back over the window sill before standing up with a loud scrape of his metal joints against the floor.

He cleaned his fingers clean of the sheeny, pretty slick with his tongue and making sure to roll them around in his mouth before taking them out with a 'pop—!'

"Real mess y'made, sweetcheeks." He grinned, flashing his teeth at you, as he used the back of his hand to wipe away any remnants. "Tastes real good, though."

"H-hnn…" Your voice came out rough and croaky, your head lolling to one side, setting the hat to tumble off your head.

He snapped a hand to the hat, placing it back on your head with a mischievious smile, "No no, keep it on. Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so y'got it."

You blink for a few moments, regaining your breath, "Oh, fuck you—!"

"With pleasure—"

"What am I going to wear when getting out of here?! At least you're clothed!" You motion to the sliced fabric on either side of your legs, and the ripped bodice of your dress hanging on dear threads.

With your comment, he slipped off and discarded his jacket that didn't even cover much anyway.

"Ya won't need anythin' for a while now, darlin'. Think of it when we get there." Boothill laughed, flicking away the torn rags. "Besides, y'look good with just the hat on. Think I've put your mouth to enough good use too."

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to say something but quickly shutting it again at the swift unbuckling of his belt; it heaves down to his thighs from the weight of the cartridges hung on it.

His fingers travel, hitching onto a cock of metal plates, the edges of them encased in thick black rubber right from the girth until reaching a swollen tip of black rubber.

You sharply breathe, eyeing the scale-like texture, taking note of every rib on it as it lined up against you. You suddenly blush at the realisation of mouth almost salivating, muttering, "You so owe me a new dress after this—"

Boothill let out an amused hum, one hand wiping a line of drool from your lip then trailing down to your tits, cupping the flesh with cold metal fingers. You shiver, the skin on your chest pebbled with goosebumps before gasping at a sudden bite along the sensitive skin.

"—?!"

The quick spike of pain quickly subsided into a tingly sort of pleasure as Boothill's tongue drove around the swelling mark, peppering a few more as he went until he was so bent over into you that his cock pushed up against your pussy, the metal cool against your puffy and swollen clit.

"Ah, fudge, darlin'—" He grits his teeth, feeling the warmness of you just on his tip. He huffs a little, barely fitting it in voice raspy as his face is buried into your neck. "Open up a bit, sweetheart will ya—?"

He backs away for a moment to grab both of your legs, hooking them firmly over his shoulders. You groaned at the stretch, keeping both hands on the window sill in desperation. He grinned at your pussy spread wider over his tip now, clenching around it and sheening the bulb of rubber with slick. "There y'go…"

He groaned, breathing shaky as he slid it slowly. "A-ah, God—"

"A-ah, God—" Your eyes widen, rolling out of focus from feeling every metal rib of his cock push into you, forcing it thick and hard into your cunt until it reached the base. You tense, locking your legs around his neck. "Fuck, I told you to be careful—!"

He let out a shaky laugh, "Sorry 'bout that darlin'—"

He places one hand on the window sill for leverage, the other coming to press the hat down on your head. With a sharp breath in, he begins to move, deep long strokes at first to make sure you felt every bump along the scale-plating of his cock against your walls.

And, god, did it drive you insane; the texture was too much, almost sending your sending your already-sensitive pussy into overstimulation. "Hnn, t-too much —! Boothillholdon, itsgonnahmph—!"

"Jus' relax, darlin', you've taken it before…" He whispers low into your ear, stressing the pace of his movements, losing himself in the warmth of your cunt and grinning at your indecipherable mush of words spilling from your mouth again. Muffled groans escape as he listens to your moans, picking up the pace.

You subconciously roll your hips against the thrusting of his cock, every metal plate rubbing smooth and hard against your walls, the thick rubber of his tip hitting hard against your g-spot.

"Killer hips y'got there, baby—" He cooes breathlessly in your ear, his own voice breaking as he thrust in and out of your sopping cunt. You flush a deep red, your face now hot and bothered when you realise how desperate you were against his cock.

You open your mouth to reply, probably with something smart but your lips are greeted with the stark taste of iron and your own slick on his tongue as his mouth kisses yours shut. You whine through his lips, feeling his tongue deep in your mouth until your whole body shivered and tingled. You tried to keep your eyes open, only to end up crossing them over in a fucked-out haze.

Your legs trembled over his shoulders, locking him tighter in place to bully his cock deeper into your cunt. His eyes widened at the lock, then he grinnned.

"Fudge, y'not lettin' m'get away, are ya—?" He groaned before huffing out a laugh, finally lowering his hand from the hat on your head to place them both on your hips, roughly slamming them onto him to target that sweet spot inside you.

"Hnn — hic — god, m'gonna—" Your words come out slobbery, your lips glossed over and drooling.

"C'mon, pretty, cum f'me…" He dug the metal of his fingers into your hips, his own beginning to stutter and shake as he moved. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit in uneven circles to drag the orgasm out of you. "Make a real mess, sweetheart—"

Patches of white and yellow flash behind your eyes, your hips buckling forward. You let out a long choked moan that stuttered with every slackening thrust of his hips that gummed your insides with thick ropey spills of cum.

Gently, he slowed until the stimulation against your slit burned off, leaving you tingly and weak. Weak enough to finally let go of the leg lock you had on his neck.

The grip on your hips slackened as he pulled away, whistling at the mess between you both. He took a moment to watch the white slick drip between your legs. "Feel full as a tick yet, darlin'?"

You tried to respond, but your whole body almost lolled to the side, only stopped quickly by his arm. He gazed down at you, stupidly grinning and laughing at the sight. "What'd I say, darlin'? I did shut up that smart mouth of yours." He clicked his tongue in thought, "Even got m'self the cutest little apologies—"

With any remaining energy you had, you playfully whacked him on the arm and cut him off, to which he faked a wince. He had forgotten the bodily difference in stamina between you two.

"Ouch— fudge, darlin', at least you got some spark left in ya. Fine, 'ma buy you a… no, ten dresses in turn, 'kay?" He pressed a small kiss on your forehead then eyed the dimly lit room, catching sight of the hat that had tumbled off your head at some point and the jacket he had teasingly thrown off. "For now, 'm jacket and that hat are gonna have to do."

"Oh, fuck you—" You scoff, your head in the curl of his elbow.

He smiled, running his hand through your hair. "C'mon, y'wanted to wear that hat so badly. Y'looked real good in it…"

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

[inkdrinkerworld]

hey there <3 I can’t find whether your requests are open so ignore this if you’re not accepting!!

I am on my knees asking for more of your bfb!remus… I need it, the world needs it. moony finally giving in after years of denying the reader for james’ sake 😫 this dynamic is everything

You're Jamies' baby sister and Remus can't believe he's got the fattest crush on you.

You're three years younger than him which isn't the thing that bothers Remus. What bothers him is the reaction James might have.

Remus should've never said yes to this damn vacation. You're all at the Potter's summer house, a life of dipping in the pool and then hitting the beach soon after.

Right now you're at the beach, and while James and Sirius are wrestling each other in the water, Remus can't pull his eyes off you as you build sandcastles and decorate them with shells that you'd found along the shore.

You can feel his eyes on you every now and then, and hide a smirk. You're pretty sure everyone knows you and Remus are head over heels for each other, he just never takes your advances as advances- much to your disappointment.

You shake your head a little, pieces of hair coming undone before you set your trap.

"Remmy, will you come help me?" You look up at him and the hair that had been braided back as all loosened and fallen in your face. You look like an angel of destruction like this- specifically his destruction.

"I'm not sure how well I can braid, dove. You know that's Jamie's strong suit." His knees crack as he stands and sets his book down before making his way over to you.

"Doesn't have to look pretty Rem, just need it out of my face so I can finish this castle."

Remus' hands are gentle as they pull the hair tie off, "Tell me if I'm pulling too hard."

You take a chance, "I can handle a little bit of pain, Rem." His breath hitches and you smile.

"Are you on the shore for me Remus? Because I'm a big girl now, you can go wrestle in the water with the boys."

Remus rolls his eyes, "I know you are, but why would I willingly let Sirius and James hold me under water?"

Remus' braid doesn't look as good as yours had, but it's swept all the hair out of your face. You turn to face him as he ties the braid off, a wide smile on your face.

"Remus I have an important question." you lean back on your palms and Remus can feel the back of his neck on fire. Your stupid little belly ring is a constant torment in his mind, always dangling over your tummy and making his brain short circuit.

"I'll answer if I can, dove." He's nervous, anything can come out of your mouth, no filter. He thinks it's sweet that you never censor yourself, Euphemia and Fleamont had ensured that their kids were never insecure about that.

You take a deep breath and Remus looks away from your glittery red bikini top. You smile and hide it quickly, "Are you scared to kiss me because of James?"

Remus looks over his shoulder, James and Sirius body surfing now. He leans in, sandy brown hair and hazel eyes all you can see- not that you mind.

"Or do you not like me anymore?" You know that's not true, but if Remus doesn't kiss you by tonight, you're going to go insane.

"Not like you?" Remus chuckles, his hand reaching for your cheek. "Dove, you don't ask silly questions." You really don't. "Of course I like you, I like you so much sometimes I can't look at you because I want to kiss you stupid."

It's your turn for your breath to hitch. "Then why haven't you kissed me yet?" Remus smiles, you sound so petulant and pouty, so unlike yourself that he leans in a little more.

Your nose brushes his, lips just barely touching and you frown. "Remus."

He groans, and pulls you closer, lips locking and you melt into him. It's a gentle kiss, experimental and slow. Your hands comb through his hair and pull him a little closer, making him deepen the kiss.

You hear whopping and hollering, "Fucking finally Moony!" It's your brother and the shock causes you both to pull away.

You heart is racing and Remus chases your lips for a second kiss. "Took you long enough." you whisper and he shakes his head.

"Did that kiss magically make you mouthy, pretty girl?" You nod, smiling like a giddy fool as Remus stares down at you.

"Moony, you couldn't wait till the end of the trip? Now I have to do the washing up for the rest of the week." Sirius moans as he and James meet you at your sandcastle fortress.

"No, I really couldn't." he's looking directly in your eyes as he says it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 1

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: um I woke up to this in my head. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You honk your horn as another driver slowly veers toward the line. You’re not letting them in. If they can’t weave in, then they aren’t fast enough to leave the slow lane. You sigh and gesture at them as kindly as you can in that instant. You have enough going on. 

Your phone starts to ring. Again. You tap the button on your steering wheel to answer. You would know who it is even without his custom ringtone. Your boss allows no space for breathing, even on a call. 

“How far out are you, pixie?” Lloyd asks as you growl and lean on the gas pedal. You hate driving on the highway, especially at night, and the sky is steadily dimming. 

“Close,” you assure him. “Next exit,” you flip your blinker on. 

“Thank god. You got everything?” 

Yeah, everything you forgot. You don’t give the dry retort aloud. You know better. Where your boss has no filter to be found, you find yourself often censoring yourself. As much for his ego as for others’. Arguing never gets you anywhere. 

“I believe so--” 

“You believe or you do?” He asks impatiently. 

“Mr. Hansen, I got everything on the list,” you assure him. “All with a bow on top.” 

“A life saver, pix, I swear,” he praises, but a compliment from him is rarely genuine, more transactional. You did him a favour so he’ll give you a treat. 

“Alright, I need to get over, ramp’s coming up. So--” 

“Yeah, yeah,” his ends rustles and you hear a muffled female voice, “I got shit going on too. You got the address, text me.” 

He hangs up first. You can never be the first to end the call. He has to make the decisions. You just know how to guide him to the right one. You merge into the exit lane and follow the ramp away from the whirring stream of headlight. Finally. 

You’re less than pleased to be within minutes of your destination. This isn’t how you envisioned your holiday. A last-minute itinerary change to fix yet another of Mr. Hansen’s oversights. It’s never a mistake, he’s just a man with so much going on that it slipped his radar. Another bandage for his ego. 

The slower pace feeds your agitation. At least on the highway, you felt like you were getting somewhere. The lazy roll of the cars in the town tweaks at the nape of your neck. You just want to be in one place and that won’t happen even when you get to Mr. Hansen. 

You’ll be lucky to have two hours of sleep before you have to catch your rebooked flight. Yep. You’ll play Santa and drop off your lot before hiding at the hotel long enough to dread the airport jungle. Then it’s off to your own familial obligations. Those are rarely enjoyable and being a day later than promised will hardly please your mother. 

Your phone announces your arrival at the destination. The long drive of the over-sized suburban mansion is full. You park on the street and turn on the interior light. You get out and open the back seat. The whole medley of shiny paper and quaffed bows stares back at you. 

You text Mr. Hansen and wait, huffing and puffing with impatience. Of course, you have to upheave your plans to meet his deadlines, but he’s taking his time. It’s not a surprise, not even a disappointment, you expected as much. 

“Pixieee,” Lloyd drags out the last syllable, “there you are, pretty pixie.” 

Pretty Pixie? He’s drunk or he’s going to ask for something else. You brace yourself as his shadow struts up the long driveway and passes beneath the cone cast by the tall street lights. Coloured lights glimmer over him from the eaves of the surrounding facades. 

“Mr. Hansen, wrapped, labelled, everything you requested,” you gesture to the backseat. 

“An angel. A true saviour, pixie,” he surprises you as he grabs your head, his palms pressing to your cheeks as he bends to kiss your forehead, “did I ever tell you you’re immaculate?” 

“Mr. Hansen,” you gently pull his wrists until he drops his hands. You smell the alcohol radiating off of him. 

“It’s the holiday, call me Lloyd, sweet cake,” he insists. 

“Right,” you tut and turn to drag out the largest gift bag, “here, you better just take all this, I have to check-in--” 

“About that,” he ignores the gift as you hold it out. “We’re just about to start dinner, you should pop in, have a bite.” 

“I can’t, Mr. Hansen--” 

“Of course you can,” he insists. You look up at him. His eyes gleam in the spectrum of lights shining from your car, the houses, and the tall poles. You sniff. He’s only tipsy, there’s still the hint of authoritarianism firmly implanted in his tone. “I told everyone you would.” 

“Everyone?” You echo anxiously. 

“The family,” he exclaims as if it should be obvious. 

“Okay, I can come say hello but--” you wiggle the bag at him. 

“Damn right you can,” he catches your hand and takes the bag. He drops it on the ground carelessly. 

“Mr. Hansen, that’s fragile,” you say. 

“Shhhh,” he grabs your hand and you curl and unfurl your fingers desperately, “Lloyd, remember?” He feels around in his pocket as he keeps you in his vice, “now, you just need to slip this on.” 

He struggles to line up the ring with your finger as you squirm in confusion. What is he doing? 

“Mr. Han--” 

“Lloyd,” he growls, all humour trickling away. He squeezes until you whimper. “Look, I just need you to smile and bat those long lashes of yours, alright?” 

“What’s going on?” 

“As far as anyone knows, I proposed to you on Thanksgiving,” he says. 

“Proposed?!” You nearly shriek. 

He hushes you again and finally rams the ring down to your knuckle. “Look, pixie, mommy’s being a real pain in my ass so you just need to play along.” 

“Mr.--” 

“If I have to tell you one more time--” 

“Lloyd,” you gulp, “please. I... this is... strange. What? Why? I have a flight in eight hours.” 

“Cancel it,” he sneers. “Double time and a half for holiday overtime. See the family in the New Year.” 

“What? That’s-- This is insane--” 

“This is your job, honey,” he clings to your hand. “To do what I say or you can spend your January trawling the job boards.” He squeezes until the band digs into your flesh. “Now, I know Mr. Walker thinks you’re darling and he offered you a role last year but once I tell him about your little defiance issue, I don’t think he’ll be interested--” 

“Huh?” 

“I know a lot more than you think,” he grits. “Alright? So let’s start getting this shit inside. That’ll give you a chance to get yourself together.” 

“Lloyd,” you gasp. “Why--” 

“No more fucking question. Since when did you get so uppity,” he barks. 

“Sir--” 

“Ah, none of that, either,” he lets you go and waggles his finger in your face. “Relax. Have some eggnog when we get inside and take the edge off.” 

“This can’t be happening,” you murmur. 

“It’s fucking happening, alright?” He picks up the bag off the ground. “I keep you around ‘cause you’re quick on your feet, Pix, so let’s get to it.” 

“Oh god,” you utter. 

“Keep it to yourself,” he warns. 

Your disbelief has you a bit dumb. You’re panicking. He knows you have an insurance policy with Walker and you have no doubt he’ll do all he can to spoil your future if you fuck around with his present. You’ve worked long enough for him to believe his threats, even when everything else is dubious. 

You turn and grab several gifts from the backseat. You move out of his way and he gathers some more himself. He backs up and uses his knee to close the door. He nods you toward the house. 

“Smile, act like you’re excited,” he commands. 

You pass him and stare up at the blaze of holiday lights. The lawn is decorated with a Santa and sleigh, complete with all his reindeer. You make the march up the walk and towards the glowing windows that trim the front door.  

Lloyd comes up next to you and kicks it, “open up.” 

It isn’t long before obedience appears from the other side. You do a double take at the man who answers the door. He looks a lot like Lloyd but not. He doesn’t sport the same bristly stache and his hair neatly combed, the sides unshaved but tidy. He rolls his eyes. 

“Was hoping you got lost in the snow,” the man scoffs. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd shoulders through, “always a fucking prick, Hugh.” 

The other man snarls, “don’t fucking call me that.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby boy,” Lloyd puts the gifts on the bench against the wall, under the large mirror with an elaborate frame. “Why don’t you go suck on mommy’s teat?” 

“You’re disgusting,” the other man, Hugh, hisses. 

“Speak for yourself. We’re the OnlyFans thot? She not joining us?” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Fuck you, fuck me, we already did this, remember?” Lloyd faces him. 

“And who’s this slut?” The man tosses you a sharp glare.  

“Woah, man, that’s my future wife,” Lloyd lies so easily it startles you. He sounds almost genuine and you’ve never heard him sound like that. “Not a slut, so keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.” 

“Huh, I didn’t believe it,” the man puts his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down, “she’s tiny.” 

You narrow your eyes, speechless as they talk about you like a new lamp. 

“Ransom,” Lloyd gestures to him derisively, “Pixie. Now you’ve met so you can skedaddle back to the liquor cabinet.” 

The man, Ransom, snickers, “good luck, sweetheart,” he scoffs. “If you need a drink, just look for me. You probably will. At least for the next forty years.” 

He struts off through the archway behind him and you look at Lloyd. He takes the armful of gifts from you and grumbles. He stops and crosses his arms.  

“Well, get your boots off. Mom will kill you if you’re tracking salt all over her freshly polished floors,” he shakes his head. “And a bit of advice, stay away from my cousin. Ransom’s a fucking pest.” 

“Right, sir.” 

He tilts his head and you show your palms, “Lloyd.” 

“Good girl,” he says and slips free of his loafers. “Now, you’re going to have to meet my parents before anyone else or I won’t hear the end of it. I’ve already got an earful. I know I shoulda booked that resort...” 

You unzip your boots and set them aside on the rack. You stand and he beckons you past the open archway and down the hallway. You take in the decor; gold on beige on ivory. It’s all very luxurious. 

He pushes through a white birch door and warmth enshrines you along with the smell of turkey. There’s a clattering beneath a shrill voice snapping out orders, “oh, not mashed, whipped!” 

A tall blonde woman crosses her arms as she hovers like a vulture over the aproned staff crowded around the large marble island. Lloyd grabs your hand and drags you after him. Your socks slip on the tile as dread coils up your limbs. 

“Mom, she’s here,” he announces as he gets close to her. 

“Ugh, about time, they already set the table and I was dreading the empty plate,” she slithers. She turns her chin down to see you, “Oh, look at her. She’s so... petite.” She levels her hand with the top of your head, “much different than I envisioned.” 

You look at Lloyd as he pushes his shoulders back. You’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that and you’ve never seen him so uptight. You turn your attention back to the woman. 

“Hello, Mrs. Hansen, it’s nice to meet you,” you offer your hand. 

She considers it then grabs it, turning the ring up. You examine the jewel as she does the same, your first glimpse at the thing. She harrumphs, “that’s the ring?” 

“Mom,” Lloyd utters. 

“Mm, very well. Dear, you may call me Gwenyth, not Mrs. Hansen,” she lets you go. “Now, dear son, out of my way. I’m trying to get dinner done.” 

Lloyd stares at her, almost expectantly, the takes your hand again and leads you away. He pulls you back through the door. You don’t dare say a word. He leads you away from the kitchen and the wall of voices buzzing from the front room. He guides you through the archway opposite and around to another door. 

He knocks and there’s a lull as you wait. He taps again. There’s coughing from the other side. “What do you want?” 

“Just me, Dad,” Lloyd answers. 

“Ugh, get in here then,” the timbre calls back. 

Lloyd twists the knob and urges you in ahead of him. The smell of cigar smoke blows in with the cold wind. A gray-haired man puffs by the window, his efforts to puff through the opening sabotaged by the wintry gusts. 

“Close the door. I don’t need the banshee sniffing me out,” he growls. 

“Sure,” Lloyd shuts the door. “Dad, uh, this is her. The woman I told you about. My fiance.” 

“Took you long enough,” the man sneers. You flinch and his grey eyes soften, “him, I mean. Forty-three years--” 

“Dad,” Lloyd rasps. 

“Well,” his father looks you over, “she’s young. Bit small...” 

You do your best not to let your annoyance show. So you’re a little shorter than average. 

“William,” he introduces himself, “and you are?” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd answers for you. 

“Didn’t ask you, boy,” William rebukes and keeps his eyes on you. “You smoke?” 

You mull his question and sigh, “never tried it but I guess it’s never too late to start.” 

William snorts, “truer words.” He puffs, “I don’t recommend it. Horrible habit.” He tamps out the stogie in a copper tray. “Well then, is the food ready, or did you just come to show me your woman?” 

Lloyd stiffens and touches your lower back, “guess I just came to do that.” He mutters, “come on, let’s go get something to drink.” He turns and opens the door. 

“Don’t let the smoke out,” William snips as you spin around. 

[nozo-muu]

OUT OF REACH

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Male Reader, Ian Gallagher x Male Reader (both are separate, no proships up in this bitch)

Best friend’s brother trope and a little bit of jealous best friend. Not an established relationship.  

Summary: Lip and you get caught cuddling by Ian when he comes back from being out.

Cw: NSFW, Mentions of sex, Oral (Reader receiving), Use of the f slur (censored), Swearing, (let me know if there is more)

Author’s note: This is a follow-up to my last fic. I changed the narrator's voice because I realized too late that I wrote that one in the third person, not the second. Let me know what you prefer and if you like me using my OC as the male lead instead of a male reader.

Again, this is inspired by my Oc and scenarios of my Dr. 

"You only call me on the weekends, you only love me when we're freaking"

(I literally have a song for most of the scenarios so yeah...)

The door flung open, which startled you both. The room was dark and you both were lying together, with Lip’s head on your chest, and shirtless, which wasn’t a good look in front of your best friend Ian, especially for Lip.

“YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” 

Lip immediately shot up, trying to act like he wasn't just cuddling you, which didn’t accomplish anything.  

“Really? With this shithead? You couldn't have chosen someone that wasn't from my family?” Ian exclaimed. 

He had a point… Why the fuck would you decide to sleep with the brother of one of your bestest friends? Yeah, he was hot as fuck, but that wasn't an excuse. With your looks and charm, you could have pulled anyone else if you wanted to. And making out in the Gallagher house, the house without privacy? Really? Not your brightest moment, that's for sure.

“We weren’t doing anything, I swear” Lip added, trying to ease the tension, obviously skipping over your little shower fun.

“Yeah, we were just chilling.”

“Shirtless and without pants, might I add” Ian retorted. 

Touché. 

“Homies chill together like this all the time, it’s no big deal.” Now why the hell would you say that? You know no one does that. 

Ian snorts, “Yeah right…”

He wasn't really mad at you, to be honest, he found it almost funny how his straggot pussy-wipped of a brother had ended up sleeping with his best friend. Food for thought, that was for sure. 

“I’m gonna go for a smoke.” Lip said, trying to evade the vicinity. 

Ian turns to him. 

“You could have at least told me to not come home for a while, so as to not walk in on your little…fun.” 

Lip rolls his eyes at him, sliding past him and almost rolling down the stairs by how badly he wanted to get out of that room. 

Ian turns back to you. You were still lying there, in your boxers, almost frozen by the absurdity of the situation. His eyes roamed your body, looking you up and down. He couldn’t deny it, you looked amazing like that. 

“My brother? Really?” Ian said, sighing.

“Look, I don't know. Honestly, I don’t understand how this happened.” Of course you knew, really well. But you weren’t about to tell Ian any of it. “We just got caught up in the heat of the moment…” False, once again. 

“Honestly, I don’t care, I’m just surprised by him. It turns out the asshole also likes cock.” He sat down on the bed, glancing at you. “Although it’s true that yours isn't half bad.”

You throw a pillow at his face. 

“For fucks sake, Ian.”

“What? You can fuck my brother but I can’t joke about when we did it?”

“I didn’t fuck him! Nor did he fuck me! WE. DIDN’T. DO. ANYTHING.”

He eyes you up and down, not quite convinced by your story and trying to ignore his growing erection. Seeing you barely clothed really did turn him on.

“Fuck it”, he thought to himself, “it’s not like we haven’t before”. 

He scooted over a little, placing his hand on your naked thigh. 

You glance at him with a questioning look.

“That means you’re quite pent up then…”

“You can’t be serious.” You say while looking at him, bewildered.

“Oh, I am.” He shifts in front of you, now on his knees. “May I?”

You roll your eyes at him, but ultimately oblige, blushing a little. 

“Fine.” 

With that green light, he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses on your thighs and over your boxers. Oh, how he loved the scent of your cologne, of your body, of you.

As he continued, still caressing your thigh with one hand, the other having already traveled to your torso, he could feel your member growing. 

Your hands went down to his short hair, gently brushing your fingers through it, which sent a shiver down his spine. 

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers, just enough so that he could start stroking himself while he focused on you. 

The precum had already started showing through your boxers, which was enough of a cue for Ian to tug at the hem to take them off, revealing your member. 

Gosh, how he loved it. Granted, it wasn’t as big as his, but something about yours mesmerized him. And the sounds you made, those grunts of pleasure and your breathless curses… Gosh, he went feral when he heard those. 

He moved his attention back to your thighs while slowly leaving kisses closer and closer to the shaft. 

“Ian…” You whispered breathless. 

He knew what that meant, he knew you wanted it. He loved having that effect on people, especially on you. 

He started sucking at the base, slowly going up the length. He kept going up and down, licking and leaving little pecs on your member. He went up one final time, this time taking you into his mouth, still stroking himself in the process. He was enjoying this…

His tongue swirled around your head periodically, making you squirm in pleasure. Your hands were still on his hair, caressing his head while he sucked you off. 

He kept bobbing his head up and down until you both were approaching climax.

“Ian… I’m close” you breathed out, looking down. 

He was stroking himself faster and faster now, being almost there himself. He grunted in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. 

He kept sucking until he felt it in his mouth… The sensation immediately making him cum on his hand. 

He got up, grabbed a tissue and wiped his hand. The bastard was smirking. 

“Happy? How’s that for an apology?” You asked.

“Apology accepted, but again, I wasn’t mad.” He said, smiling. 

Of course, the guy only wanted to cause a scene. 

“I should go talk to Lip.” 

“Maybe.” 

Outside, Lip was smoking his second cigarette since he had left the room. He was thinking, just like he always was, but right now, he was thinking of you. 

It wasn't a crush, how could it be? Lip had always been the pussy fucker of the family. How could he have fallen for the goody two shoes of the neighborhood?

Granted, you were handsome, tall, smart, and a sweetheart. But come on, you were his brother's best friend. You were younger than him. He couldn't possibly… It was just a fwb kinda thing, or his hormones… 

Engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't hear the front door open.

“Hey…” You approach him, sitting next to him on the steps, “wanna talk about what just happened? Just so you know, Ian is not mad.”

Lip glances at you, taking another puff of the cigarette and handing it to you. You take a puff and he sighs. 

You place a hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that ever since that night… Things between us feel different, I feel different. It’s like everything I knew about myself is crumbling down.”

You smile at him, knowing what that feels like.

“You know I’m always here for you, Lip.”

He glances at you. 

“Can you kiss me?”

“What?”

“Kiss me. I want you to kiss me without the need to hook up after.”

Oh! That was a new one. Never in your life would you have thought that THE Lip Gallagher would ask you for a kiss without sex, drugs, or alcohol being in the mix. 

“Sure.”

He turned now towards you fully. Cupping your face as you approached his, eyes immediately closing shut. 

The contact of your soft lips sent sparks throughout his whole body, his hands reaching for your waist. He kissed back, almost desperately, while you ran your fingers through his blonde hair. When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. 

“Satisfied?” You ask softly.

“Very.”

[yourtamaki]

o, come, be buried / a second time within these arms

zoro x f!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: hurt/comfort, sex as a form of comfort, fingering, cuddlefucking, creampie, scent kink, oral (f!receiving), cum play, cum eating, violent imagery, bit of aftercare

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there is a storm building inside you.

zoro can see it raging even as you keep your face turned from him. the room dark save for the moonlight that streams in through the open window, just bright enough to spot your outline curled up in bed, covers tucked up under your chin. lines of tension keep your back rigid and shoulders hunched, your breathing shaky and slow as you tell him to leave.

you’re vicious gales and crashing waves wrapped into one, devastating and beautiful.

“you don’t want to be around me right now,” you say, words muffled by your pillow.

“don’t tell me what i want,” he doesn't try to bite back the anger that laces itself through his tone. zoro has never censored himself from you before and he wasn't about to start now.

ire thrums hot in his veins, burning and boiling away beneath his skin. he has always given you every part of himself, heart served in his open, blood-stained palms, for better and most certainly for worse.

the thought of you holding yourself back from him, that there’s a part of you that he’s being denied, sets his teeth on edge. he'd been searching for you all day, prowling around the ship like a caged animal until finally found his way to where his search should have began, the tiny storage room that had become your shared quarters.

“you pissed at me?” he asks.

“no,” you say.

“want me to kill anyone?”

“no.”

it grates on him that there’s no enemy for you to sic him on, no bones to crack, no blood to spill. your pain deserves retribution and he is the blade that would carry it out, if only you would wield him, "then i'm staying."

"zoro, please. just go."

“who do you think you’re protecting by hiding yourself away?” he steps in closer, right to the edge of the bed but makes no move to touch you, “cause it’s not me and it sure as fuck isn’t you.”

you throw a dagger of a glare his way, so sharp it could make a man bleed before he even knew he’d been cut. he doesn’t care. a small price to pay for your gaze.

zoro is too loyal of a beast to flinch away the first time you flash your fangs at him.

you hold his gaze for a moment longer before turning back around to face the wall once more. in your silence, he resolves himself to sitting on the floor by your bedside until he can be of some fucking use to you. zoro would lick crumbs of affection out of the palm of your hand. if the closest you'll let him be to you right now is knelt on the ground, keeping vigil, then he'll take it. he's crouched halfway down when he hears you call for him.

“baby, get in.”

how you have enough sweetness in you to spare him a kind word even when you have none for yourself, he will never understand. zoro takes a moment to pull his swords free from where they hang on his hip, propping them up against the wall where they’ll still be in arm's reach before he pulls back the covers and settles in next to you.

you're cold to the touch despite having been buried under the blanket, dressed only in a simple shirt and underwear and zoro is quick to throw an arm around you and pull you in by your waist until you’re pressed flush against him, his other arm slipping under your head for you to rest on. he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathes you in and for a moment he can almost smell the scent of your hurt lingering on your skin, thick and bitter as blood.

there’s an urge, ever present and never sated, to dig his teeth into the side of your neck and bite down until iron coats his tongue, to taste you, know you, in a way no one else ever has or will. it’s an urge he can only hold at bay by pressing open mouth kisses to your throat and feeling your pulse flutter against his tongue.

you slowly start to melt in his arms, the tension you wore like ill-fitting armour stripping off you piece by piece with every kiss until you’re free from its hold, warm and light.

“better?” he asks, slipping his hand under your shirt and pressing his palm flat against your stomach just to feel it rise and fall, follows the rhythm of it and matches his breaths to yours. the reassurance that you're whole and safe is a cool balm to his worries.

“a little bit,” you whisper.

“but you need more,” it’s hardly a question that needs to be answered, not with the way you’ve started to shift in his hold.

“you don’t have to—”

“i do. i want to.”

and there’s more he could say, he knows there is. pretty poetry to comfort you, sweet nothings to soothe you. but what use would empty words be to you? they can’t hold you, can’t keep you warm, can’t wipe your tears.

zoro can. he will. for you, he’d do anything and everything. all and more.

the room settles into silence, his offer hanging in open air and ripe for your taking. you don't reach out for it, not yet, but zoro doesn't mind. he can wait.

“impatience is a swordsman’s undoing,” his master had once told him a lifetime ago when zoro’s palms were still soft enough to bleed and grief was a companion so new it still stepped on his heels as it dogged his footsteps.

of the two of you, patience has always been your strong suit rather than his. it was your patience that brought you together, when you stepped into his life with a hand outstretched and he met you the same way he met all good things that tried to enter his life, with a snarl and blood stained teeth.

zoro kept you at a careful distance with all the wariness of a distrustful stray, always watching but never getting close. it was you who slowly bridged the gap, gracing him with kindness and company he'd done nothing to earn but gorged himself on anyway.

it was only because of your patience that he knows the bliss of falling asleep and waking up with the warm weight of you in his arms. the least he could do is pay you back with what you've always freely given him. so zoro holds you close and waits.

and waits.

and smiles, sharp and proud, when you take his hand that still rests on your stomach and lower it until he’s cupping you between your legs, the heat of you searing his palm even through your panties.

your hips jerk when zoro doesn’t move, a soft whine catching in your throat when his other arm circles around your chest and holds you still against him, “zoro.”

“i've got you,” he says with a kiss behind your ear, toying with the waistband of your panties before sliding his hand inside.

he slides his middle finger down your slit, dipping his fingertips into the slick heat of your cunt to wet them before drifting back up to where you need him most. there’s no rush as zoro rubs neat, tight circles against your clit, slow and firm even as you buck and try to grind down on him.

he wants you to feel every moment of this, to savour it, to drown in pleasure so deep you never want to come up for air.

another kiss to your throat, one on your jaw and you finally melt back into him, legs spreading just enough for zoro reach lower and start to ease a thick finger inside you.

“there you go, baby, that’s it,” he says, “let me in.”

you swallow him down to his knuckle, trembling in his arms when zoro slips in a second finger and crooks them to rub against the spot that never fails to pull the prettiest sounds out of you.

he shifts, trying to move lower between your legs without pulling his fingers out so he can taste where you’re wet and aching for him but you stop him by threading your fingers through his short strands, keeping him in place.

“what?” he asks, “you don’t want my mouth?”

“no, not— not right now. just stay close. keep holding me. please,” he hates how small you sound.

“i’m here. i’m right here. fucking kills me knowing you were in here hurting by yourself."

"i'm sorry.”

"don’t,” the anger he felt when you tried to send him away rears up once more. an apology is the last thing he wants to hear from you right now, “just find me next time. doesn't matter when or where. you find me. got it?"

“yeah, i got it,” you start rocking back into him, soft ass grinding against his clothed cock, “zoro.”

“i know. i know you want it, baby, but i gotta stretch you out first. can’t fit when you’re this fucking tight.”

your answer is lost in a moan as he eases in a third finger, thumb pressing against your clit. the angle isn’t kind on his wrist but zoro keeps his pace steady, spreading and curling his fingers until you’re soaked and soft and ready for him. he pulls his hand out of your panties, kissing your nape when you whine from the loss before he licks the taste of you off his fingers.

“i'm not going anywhere,” he says, "keep your eyes on me."

zoro waits until you turn in his arms and he has your gaze before he gets out of bed and undresses, leaving his clothes in a pile next to his blades. you sit up to tug your panties down and kick them off, your shirt following soon after.

you’re bare and soft and holding out a hand for him to take. zoro laces his fingers through yours and joins you once more, stripped of his swords, his clothes, and his restraint.

you don't crash into each other so much as you collide into a bruise of a kiss. it aches more than it soothes but the shared pain of it only has him pressing closer to you, your soft tits pressed to his chest, legs intertwined and weeping cock trapped between your stomachs.

he reaches up to cup your cheeks and breaks the kiss to pull back just far enough to take in the sight of you, all swollen lips and glassy eyes. it takes a heartbeat longer than it should for you to focus on him. the storm is still raging inside you but zoro refuses to lose you to it. he stands firm against the buffeting winds that threaten to rip you away from him and swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones.

“still with me?” he asks.

you turn into his touch and kiss the rough centre of his palm, “‘m here.”

"then take what you need, baby."

you slide a hand between your bodies, taking his cock into your hand and guiding his tip to your entrance. even with all the prep, it takes some time to sink inside you, time you spend peppering kisses across his face. he bears them as he bears the scars that litter his body. with pride. with honour.

zoro bottoms out with a low groan, grabbing you under your knee and hooking your leg over his hip to slip in that much deeper. every sense is flooded with you. the wet heat of you wrapped around his cock, the heady scent of your sweat and need swimming around his head, soft skin beneath his palms.

entangled and weaved together like this, heart and breath as one, zoro is drawn into the eye of your storm.

your pleasure is his, your pain his own.

still, clear waters surround you both as he waits for you to adjust. with how closely he watches you, he knows you’re ready even before you wrap both arms around him and start to roll your hips.

he keeps one hand under your knee, the other sliding down your back to rest on your ass, and uses his grip on you to pull you into a slow, dirty grind.

“oh fuck,” you moan as the two of you find your rhythm together. zoro barely pulls out, keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you. you jerk back as he rolls his hips just enough to grind your clit up against his pelvis, his firm hold on you the only thing keeping you pinned in place.

“easy now. don’t run from me.”

time slows to a crawl, every moment yawning and stretching into the next, slow and sweet as honey. you tip forward, closing what little space there still was between you to pull him into a kiss that has all the intimacy of a hard-fought spar, of learning to move together, of missteps and growing pains, of getting the wind knocked out of him only to be pulled right back on his feet.

you’re close, all worked up and sensitive from his fingers, cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as you near your high. zoro chases your pleasure down, a starving mutt set loose upon a feast. he uses the little leverage he has to wrestle you on to your back and fuck into you with short, heavy thrusts.

“c'mon, baby, that's it,” he says, bent low to brush his lips against your ear, “let go.”

he reaches down between you, thumb pressing firm against your swollen clit and you’re gone, swept out to sea as your high crashes down over you in waves. zoro hardly feels his own orgasm rip through him, too caught up in watching you shake apart and be remade in his arms.

all is still as you pant and come back into yourself. your hand slips back into his and squeezes once. he’s not sure whether you’re trying to reassure yourself that he’s still here or that you are but he squeezes back all the same.

“can i eat you out now?”

and for the first time since he stepped into the room, a smile breaks over your face, bright as the dawn sun breaking through an overcast sky. you pull out of his hold, his soft cock sliding out, and settle on your back, legs falling open, “go for it.”

zoro eases himself down between your legs, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, never letting your hand slip free from his. he takes stock of your fresh fucked cunt, clit puffy and hole clenching around nothing, dripping with him. the scent of you, of the two of you, is thickest here, heavy in his nose, and zoro breathes you in with deep, greedy lungfuls, spent cock twitching against his thigh.

he dives in, catching what leaks out of you on his tongue before pulling back and dribbling the mess of cum and spit all over your pussy.

“nasty,” you say and zoro wants to kiss the curl that sits pretty on the corner of your lips. he settles for kissing your clit instead.

“you like it.”

“i like you.”

you wield your honesty with all the ease and carnage zoro wields his swords, sliding it between his ribs and piercing his heart clean through. the pain is lost as he’s distracted by the light pouring in as the moon rises higher into the night sky.

or maybe it’s your eyes that take the pain away because it’s only through them that he notices how bright the moon’s light shines tonight.

zoro devours you, gaze fixed to yours, one hand still holding yours while the other arm keeps your hips pinned to the bed. he takes his time cleaning you up, lapping at your folds until only the taste of you remains. it’s only then that he sucks your clit into his mouth, slipping two fingers inside you to give you something to clench down on.

you are a vision in your bliss, one he has no right to bear witness to. a lifetime of blood and blades and butchery shouldn't be rewarded with the softness of you in his hand and on his tongue. it's not right.

but as you take hold of his hair to keep his mouth pressed flush against your cunt, zoro finds he couldn't give less of a shit if it's right. all that matters is if he does right by you. there's an oath in every broad stroke of his tongue, a vow in every kiss to your clit, to take care of you in all the ways you need, in all the way he knows how.

today and for all days.

your orgasm is a gentle thing that washes over you and steals your breath for a moment, smaller than the first but leaves you just as ruined.

zoro takes his rightful place by your side once more, gathering you up in his arms and running his knuckles up and down your spine.

"thank you," you press a kiss to his cheek, just below where his scar ends. he accepts the kiss but not the gratitude that comes with it.

a hound needs no thanks for fulfilling its nature.

later, he will carry you off to the baths, let you pop open bottles for him to smell that make his nose itch but that make you beam, wash your back, and wait with the patience you’ve taught him for you to share what’s trapped inside your head.

he may not understand, may not have the comfort of words to give you, but he will listen. and he will stay.

but that is for later.

for now, zoro holds you to his chest and watches over you, moonlight and peace washing over you as you catch your breath.

dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and loml @saotoru

[dollishmehrayan]

# “LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU WHEN YOUR BUSY MAKING OTHER PLANS.” ── .✦ ( just a Drabble of how Jason babysits lian Harper because dc isn’t answering my dms to release smth like this )

a/n: this is lowkey inspired from my TikTok fyp && I thought why not make this after being gone (like Roy ) but I’m here and that matters for now ig but here is some uncle jay content before I get chased off this app once again /hj but I lovee these tropes and we need MORE. Also I based that lian Harper in this is about 7 yrs old so sorry if I fucked up the timeline 😓 Tags: (uncle!jay x lian Harper)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

UNLIKELY BABYSITTER ── .✦

(Okay so Idk whether to base this off when Roy died or wtv so i think I’m gonna say wherever) When Roy had to go to whenever the fuck he went, Jason didn't expect to be left with Lian. But, given the circumstances, he found himself the reluctant babysitter.

It was awkward at first, both of them not knowing what to do with each other. Lian, full of energy, bounced around with her little, eager questions, and Jason, usually gruff and unbothered, had no idea how to talk to a seven-year-old. But, after a few days, it became a routine. He'd take her out on low-key patrols

keep her entertained with action figures, or get distracted with her never-ending curiosity about why the Batmobile was always clean or how many bad guys Batman had taken down. She’d ask him if he ever got hurt during patrols, and he’d be quick to shrug it off with a gruff "I'm bulletproof." Which, in a way, was true, but he'd leave out the parts where he still felt pain.

JASON LYING ABOUT ROY’S WHEREABOUTS ── .✦

Every now and then, Lian would ask where her dad was. Jason had learned quickly that he couldn’t tell her the truth because no way in hell he would say that Roy was either in rehab or MIA. So, he became a master of gentle lies. "Your dad's off being a hero," he'd say with a wink, trying to avoid any further probing.

He’d even make up silly, grandiose adventures: “I think he’s saving the world, but he’ll come back when he’s done being the most awesome archer on the planet.” Lian would nod in serious understanding, never questioning her Uncle Jason. To her, Roy was always out there being her hero, just like her dad told her. Jason kept that illusion intact, because no seven-year-old should have to worry about things they couldn’t fully understand.

GENTLE PARTS ── .✦

When Jason had to settle into being around Lian, he realized that her energy could cut through his walls. He started catching himself with small gestures brushing her hair out of her face when it got messy or tucking her into bed on those nights when she insisted she was scared of the dark. Jason, who usually kept to himself, found that he liked having her around.

He'd start to soften in her presence, especially when she asked questions about his life as Robin because Roy couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and he couldn’t help but soften his voice when he told her stories some he exaggerated for fun and others that were true but came with some parts that were fake and censored.

SEEING HIMSELF IN HER ── .✦

Even at just seven years old, Lian’s fiery spirit reminded him of the younger version of himself a little too reckless, a little too stubborn but he was glad that she seemed to be brighter with energy and didn’t have to go through the same hardships. Jason, having gone through too much for one lifetime, couldn’t help but feel a deep need to protect her.

Whether it was keeping a watchful eye when she ran around with a slingshot or taking her to Alfred for medical patches when she scraped her knee during a failed attempt at imitating her father’s archery skills, Jason would never let anything bad happen to her if he could help it. Every time she looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, he felt the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, but in a strangely fulfilling way.

FUN AND MISCHIEF ── .✦

Jason may have been rough around the edges, but he knew how to entertain a child. After dinner, he’d take her out to the Batcave to show her gadgets, even let her play with some of the “toys,” making sure she didn’t break anything important. She loved exploring the safe house jason owned and asking him endless questions about his bikes and guns even though he definitely hid the more violent ones away.

Sometimes, when Roy was unreachable, he’d make up stories about their ‘missions’ together how they had to fight a gang of supervillains or how they went on a secret mission to find the Batcave’s best snack stash even though it hurt him inside to even think about Roy.

Lian would giggle, rolling her eyes at Jason’s outlandish claims, but they both enjoyed it. He’d always promise to let her in on the next "real mission" and tease her about how she’d be the world’s greatest archer one day. She'd always beam back at him, so proud.

JASONS TENDER SIDE ── .✦

In the quiet moments, when Lian would curl up on the couch with a blanket, Jason would find himself sitting beside her, still, looking out for her. He'd never admit it, but he loved how peaceful those moments were, just the two of them. If she asked about her dad again, Jason’s words were always gentle, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. “Your dad’s tough, you know? He’s probably out there saving people right now, but when he comes home, he’s gonna spoil you so much, you won’t even know what hit you.”

Jason kept his words soft, not wanting her to feel too much hurt. Deep down, he hated lying to her, but in a twisted way, it was easier to protect her with lies than with the hard truth.

THE LITTLE THINGS ── .✦

Every so often, Jason would find himself unwinding with Lian watching a cartoon together, or if she was feeling more adventurous, they’d go out for ice cream after a long day. Jason would insist she pick out the weirdest flavor, and Lian would always go for something outrageous like mint chocolate chip with sprinkles or rainbow sherbet.

She’d make him try it too (she once made him try a bubblegum mix and he swore he had a stomach ache for dayss😭) and though he’d grimace, he’d always end up smiling at her enthusiasm. The day would end with her telling him everything she learned that day, and Jason, despite his own pain, would laugh, feeling like maybe he was doing something right for once.

THE UNSPOKEN BOND ── .✦

They didn’t say it out loud, but Jason took pride in being there for Lian. He couldn’t replace Roy, and he didn’t want to, but he’d be damned if anything happened to Lian while he was around. Sometimes, as Lian drifted to sleep, Jason would glance over at her, making sure she was okay.

And in those moments, he’d make silent promises to protect her, to keep lying about her father’s whereabouts until he could safely come home, and to be the kind of person who would never let her down even if the world seemed to keep knocking him down because even when his world was crumbling, he would make sure hers was always peaceful and perfect.