#like i think what rubs me the wrong way is their way of presenting certain aspects

[apollos-boyfriend]

So what do you think about their interpretation as Michael being the vengeful spirit? Maybe its because im more partial to him but i love it! It makes his story more satisfying to me.

That bein gsaid, no disrespect to fanon!cassidy or your takes at fnaf at all. Shes lovely and she deserves her acts of vengance against peepaw after all those years stuck in a shitty suit❤

(I also like their CCassidy theory so im interested in your thoughts about that too)

honestly, the biggest issue i had with their video was the assumption that scott is in any way a good storyteller. i liked the story they told! i think it’s a cool interpretation! but i don’t think that it is in any way the intended story, and much more of an interpretation than “solving” the story.

i do agree that michael being the vengeful spirit makes a lot of sense narratively. which is the issue. fnaf doesn’t have a good narrative. i really didn’t like the complete brushing off (i know they had other reasons on top of it, this was just what got me) of cassidy as a possibility/villain because it’d make no sense for a character with so little comparative screen time/motivation to be the final antagonist. they’re right! it wouldn’t! but it’s fnaf. it would, in no way, be out of character for that to be the true story, because the story kind of sucks ass. i really like the story they told. i’d like for fnaf to be as well-thought out and organized as that. it boils down to my core issue with a lot of theories that it tries to tell a good story more than anything. i REALLY didn’t like how they did henry’s story, it felt super rushed and ill-fitting compared to how much detail they put into everything else, and fell into the “i already have a story laid out so i don’t care how i get there/if it doesn’t make sense for the text” imo

i’m impartial to the crying child as being cassidy tbh. i think a lot of went into that were some of the weakest parts of their argument, like him being one of the missing children. i enjoyed everything they did with his story from then on, but that introduction to get him there just didn’t click. i really don’t think the police, as incompetent as they may be, wouldn’t have looked into the fact that CC was bedridden/near-comatose at the time and that it’d have been highly unlikely for him to be at freddy’s at the time. again, a lot of it falls into the territory of telling a good story, even if the way they get there doesn’t quite line up. which is unfortunately one of my biggest pet peeves

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA

A/N: A new smutty one-shot. I tried. I don't think it's good. But let me know what you think.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Avenger female reader

Warning: smut

My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!

Words: 4200+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA

Tony Stark had invited Charles Xavier and his X-men to an annual gala he held in New York. There were many reasons for that. The Avengers and X-men worked together during difficult missions and unexpected alien threats. Also, he wanted to prove to regular citizens and high-profile politicians that mutants were not the enemy. This was the perfect opportunity for both groups to strengthen their bonds and work relationships. 

That’s how Logan had found himself, in a fancy all-black tux, standing at the bar with a drink in his hand. His glare could kill anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t fond of these gatherings, and yet here he was. His eyes were searching for any threat, ready to fight anyone who would seem too suspicious to him.

“You didn’t have to come here, you know,” Hank chuckled when he approached Logan at the bar. “Nobody forced you to come here.”

Logan rolled his eyes and sipped on his whisky. “I know how important these things are,” he growled. “Charles wanted me to be here, so I’m here.” 

“Uh-huh,” Hank rolled his eyes. He ordered a drink. When the bartender had given him the drink with shaking hands, he had to chuckle. Some people were spooked by his blue fur and beasty look. “Isn’t it because you are waiting for a certain someone?” 

Logan sighed, defeated. Hank knew damn well that his friend had built some connection with a certain female Avenger. There was no denying he was waiting for her. “You really wanna go there, furball?” He tried to avoid the question. 

“Oh, come on, Logan. Everyone can see how you are smitten with that woman,” he chuckled. “It’s kinda nice.”

“I am not smitten,” he denied. Fuck, but even Charles constantly made comments and teased him about it. “By the way, shut your mouth, McCoy. I don’t want to hear shit from you. You’ve been eyeing that reporter from News 1.” 

That made Hank roar with laughter. He sipped his drink and turned to the crowd, watching people mingle around, talk and drink. “I’m not denying that. She’s pretty, we like to talk about science. You, on the other hand, keep denying everything. But we are not blind.”

Logan wanted to throw the drink at Hank. He would, if they’d be back in the mansion. He opened his mouth to snap back at him. But the energy shifted to the grand stairs. Logan’s eyes travelled there, wanting to know what the fuss was about.

Yelena Belova and Y/N Y/L/N walked down the stairs with linked arms. Both looked beautiful in their evening gowns and perfect hair. Yelena had a green satin dress. Y/N chose a sparkling black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, with a slit on her left thigh. 

Oh, if he could, Logan would drool like a dog. It was one thing when she wore that damn tight suit during missions, but this made him hard instantly. Fuck. Maybe this was the day he would have a heart attack. And she’d be the cause of it.

His blood started to boil when many men gave her attention. Once the women left the stairs, they were surrounded by testosterone. Yelena was a pretty lady, too. He had to admit that. Y/N was something different. She felt like a dream, a secret naughty fantasy that he wanted to come to life. 

“Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a fly,” Hank said. 

Logan drank the rest of the whisky in one go, eyes never leaving Y/N’s figure on the main floor. Hell, even her teammates danced around her. Where did this jealousy come from? 

He thought about the day they met. It was an accidental mission, where the Avengers were also present. While Charles and Captain Amerika talked after the finished mission, Logan’s eyes were focused on the woman who caught his attention. 

Their first interaction was amusing. Y/N tried to save his ass when a group of soldiers surrounded him. Logan was on the ground, guns pointed at every piece of his body when she came out of nowhere, shooting down the soldiers, snapping their necks with bare hands. Her kicks were strong, her punches were deadly. 

Once the threat was eliminated, she turned and looked down at Logan. “Are you done napping?” she asked him with a grin. 

He huffed. “I had it under control,” he huffed. He got up on his legs, the adamantium claws had already retracted back to his skin. Y/N watched it happen like a hawk but didn’t comment on it. 

“Of course. You almost got killed by ten men. Yeah, you had it under control.” 

“I can’t die, princess,” he squinted at her. “It wouldn’t be the first time a firing squad would try to kill me. In the end, it would always just tickle.”

Y/N tilted her head. A smile played on her lips. “Well, if you are done bragging, let’s move. There is still more to come and I would like to be in bed with a book in my hand by ten.” 

That was just their first interaction. And with that, something bloomed between them. Friendship? Or was it something more? Every mission became exciting. He couldn’t keep the dumb smile on his face once he saw her in the field.

Logan ordered another whisky. A grin spread on his lips when he thought back to their first meeting. He learnt her name later. First, it was just her last name. Rogers barked orders when he said it. Her first name came at a different time when they all shared the same coms for better communication. 

“She’s coming here,” Hank warned him, which brought Logan back to reality. 

With every step, he could notice more details about her. The material of the dress, how deep her cleavage was, how her breasts popped out, the red lips, the earrings, the fact that she was like a fucking angel. All she needed was wings. And, she was coming to him alone. Fucking finally. 

“Wolverine,” she purred his name. “I can’t believe you are here. Who put a gun to your head and forced you to attend this magical evening?” There was a teasing smile on her lips. 

Don’t look at her tits, he thought. Don’t look at the tits that want to spill out of that dress. Fuck!

“I heard there was an open bar,” he said. “So I decided to come and drink Stark’s liquor.” 

She licked her lips, suppressing her chuckle. “No other reason?” I raised a brow. “See your friends, swoon ladies or play pool with the boys?”

See me?

He kicked in the rest of the drink and put the glass on the bar. His eyes noticed the crowd gathering in the middle of the hall. A slow music started to play, inviting everyone to dance. Logan’s hand reached forward. It was now or never. “Or I came here to dance with ya, princess.” 

One second and her hand slipped into his. “Oh, so you dance, you say? Lead the way.” 

Logan proudly walked her into the crowd of dancing people. One hand rested on her lower back, other held her right hand. He knew what he was doing. After all, this was the first dance of his life. Y/N was impressed by that. They started to dance to the string music. 

He sniffed her sweet perfume, the shampoo she used. That woman would be the death of him, Logan was sure of it. They kept dancing, not talking. His eyes were on her, locked in a gaze. He had been close to her before but not like this. She was like a magnet, pulling him closer to her. Her lips inviting, her touch soft. 

The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to spill out what was going through his mind. “You look beautiful tonight,” he admitted. “Fuck, you look beautiful every time I see ya.”

She chuckled. “Even in my suit during a fight?” she raised a brow. 

“Hell yes,” he nodded eagerly. “Princess, when you walk to the field in that suit, fighting fearlessly, I have trouble focusing. Once you did a trick with your thighs, choking an enemy with them, I almost lost it there.” 

Y/N’s hand left his. She brushed it up his arm and rested it on his shoulder. “Oh, so that’s the effect I have on you, eh?” she teased the Canadian. “Care to say more?”

Logan’s hand joined the other on her lower back. He pressed her closer to his body. The height difference was evident between them. Even with her high heels, she was shorter than him. “Fishing for compliments?” 

“From you? Yes,” she smiled. 

He moved closer to her, leaning. In his mind, he was ready to press his lips against her. He needed to kiss her like he needed to breathe. This was his chance to taste her.

A third hand landed on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N, Logan,” they heard someone say their names. The moment was ruined. He wasn’t able to kiss her like he wanted. On the other hand, he wanted to slash anyone who interrupted them.

With a growl, he pushed away, eyes finding Captain Rogers, accompanied by Hank. “What?” he asked them grumpily. He didn’t care it was rude. They ruined something special. 

“We need you in the conference room,” said Steve. “We have a situation.” 

Y/N sighed, stepping away from Logan’s hold. “What’s going on?” she switched to a work mode. She gave Hank a polite smile to acknowledge his presence. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted us about Trash industries,” said Steve. “Come, we’ll show you.” 

“Charles?” Logan’s eyes shifted to Hank. 

“Already with Stark,” he said. 

All four of them walked together from the grand hall. Yelena and Sam joined them on the stairs. The blonde woman was yapping about being taken away from a cute woman and a fine drink. 

“I just fucking got here. Already some shit is happening,” she kept cursing under her nose.

Logan kept close to Y/N. He missed her body being so close to his. He hoped they'd be able to continue. The conversation was intriguing. He remained by her side while walking through the hallway and to the upper levels of the compound. 

Her fingers brushed against his hand. It wasn’t an accident. No. Her fingers purposefully stroked the top of his hand. Instantly, his fingers moved. His pinkie hooked around hers for a second. It was a mutual sign. 

The group entered the conference room, meeting the rest of the Avengers and Charles. One by one they took a seat except Logan. He stayed on his feet, a step away from Y/N’s seat. A hologram appeared in the middle of the table. 

“We got a new location on Trask Industries, but this time, these fuckers had decided to work with some Hydra scums,” Tony started to talk, showing footage they managed to get from satellites. “Or so it appears. we are not quite sure.” 

“The public wouldn’t like that,” Charles commented. “They try to present themselves as a serious robotic corporation. Why would they jeopardise their public status if they start working with a public enemy?”

“That is trying to hunt down mutants and annihilate them,” Y/N commented. “Don’t want to imagine what’s going on behind closed doors. It can’t be nice.”

“Is it really Hydra?” Natasha asked. 

“It appears,” Steve chimed in. “Or something adjacent.” 

“So what? We’re just gonna sit here and wait for more details?” Logan scoffed. “The longer we wait, the more work they get done. I say to strike and kill them all.” 

Y/N licked her lower lip and grinned under her nose.

“We need a strategy, Logan,” said Charles.

“Not everyone can get sliced and heal with a snap of fingers,” Tony added sarcastically. “Chill, wolvie. Besides, we’ve sent Vision to have a look at the place. He’s a droid, a powerful one made out of vibranium.” 

Y/N turned her head to Tony. “That doesn’t mean he’s indestructible in this world,” she frowned. “New weapons are being developed every day to destroy mutants, to stop the Avengers. I hope Wanda went with him. They are stronger together.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course, she’s with him. Do you think I’d be able to stop her? I’m not crazy.” 

“Trask Industries are still working on the damn sentinel program,” Hank stepped into the conversation. “With Hydra’s help, who knows what they’ll be able to create together. The thought alone is scary.” 

Tony ended the hologram. Steve took the word. “I know we are supposed to be here at the gala, but I suggest a good night's sleep and be ready. If you’d like, we have spare rooms in here for you. You can stay here for the night if we need to leave.” 

When Steve said that, Y/N gently turned her head to the side, wondering what Logan would say to that. 

“I’ll gladly accept the offer,” Hank smiled. “At least I’d get to talk to Bruce for a little while and have a look at his labs. I’ll also alert the others at school.” 

“Howlett?” Tony raised a brow. 

Logan’s eyes moved from Y/N’s exposed shoulders to Hank and then to Tony. “Sure, why not? At least I don’t have to drive from place to place.” 

“I guess we are staying,” Charles smiled. “Thank you for your accommodation.” 

The meeting ended. Natasha and Yelena went back to the gala. Y/N talked to Hank for a few more minutes while he was waiting for Bruce. Steve and Tony took Charles back to the grand hall. Logan waited outside the conference room. Because no one was present, he took a cigar out of his jacket and lit it up. Three puffs later Y/N stepped out of the conference room with Hank. 

“Already smoking?” Hank sighed. 

“So what? Got a problem with that, bub?” 

“Always the charmer,” Hank shook his head. “Nice evening, Y/N. I’ll see you later,” he said once he saw Banner approaching the group. 

The moment Logan and Y/N were alone, they faced one another. “Are you heading back to the gala?” Logan asked. 

She hummed, thinking about it. “I’m not feeling like going back there. Honestly, those fancy parties are not my cup of tea. Wanna grab a drink in our lounge room? Stark has the fanciest shit there. You’re gonna love it.” 

Logan smiled at her. “Lead the way, princess.”

. . .

The lights were dimmed in the lounge room. Logan was nursing an expensive drink Y/N poured him. He made faces, eyed the liquid, humming and nodding. “This is some good shit,” said after a while. “Wealthy people can afford stuff like this. Also, Charles prohibited any alcohol at school.” 

Y/N chuckled, sitting in an armchair with her drink. “It makes sense. It’s a school. Of course, he doesn’t want any alcohol there. Does he let you smoke?” 

He huffed. “That he ain’t gonna do shit about it. No matter how much he threatens to turn me into a six-year-old girl.” 

“Aw, that’s adorable. I’d like to see that,” she put a wide smile on her face as she sipped her drink. “Maybe I’d brush your hair, put pink ribbons in it.”

Logan kicked the drink in and stood up from the couch. His eyes noticed a few photos around the place - from parties and group shots to professional photos of the team. They were like a family. What mostly caught his attention was Y/N. She was an Avenger, part of a superhero team. He huffed. Fuck, she was a damn Avenger. 

“What?” she questioned. A second later, she was by his side, eyes on the same photo of the team. “That was after Ultron almost annihilated the whole world. We celebrated our survival. Stark puked into his helmet,” she laughed. 

“Disgusting,” he frowned. “I must say, you look like one happy family,” he commented. 

Y/N hummed. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “I love them all to death.”

“But?” he raised a brow. 

She shrugged. “Will I sound ungrateful if I say I hate being in the spotlight?” she made a face. “I can’t do photoshoots, the damn galas and shit forever. I hate attention. I’d rather be like you.”

“Me?”

She nodded. “Teaching mutant kids, living life out of the spotlight. Even though it’s not easy, in my eyes, it’s simpler. Not have to deal with this shitshow.” 

Logan’s fingers found her hair. He brushed them away from her face. His mouth opened, ready to say something - anything - but instead, he grabbed her by the neck, pulled her closer to his body and crashed his lips against her. It was like an invincible string, pulling them together. He couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t slow, gentle. Quite the opposite. Logan’s tongue explored her mouth, tasting every corner he could reach. It was hungry, possessive. One hand held her tightly around her waist while the other slipped from her neck, down her back until it reached her ass, taking as much of her cheek into his palm. 

Both arms wrapped around his neck. A moan escaped her lips when the kisses moved to her jaw and down to her exposed neck. 

“I need to have you,” Logan growled between the kisses. “Fuck, pretty baby.” 

“My room,” she sighed. “We can’t give Stark or Rogers a heart attack if we do it here. Although, it would be funny.” 

Logan pushed away, staring into her eyes. He went back for her lips, only to bite her lower lip, pulling at it. “Lead the way, princess,” he growled. “And hurry, or I will take you here, where anyone can see us.”

Y/N grabbed him by the hand, taking him away from the lounge room. Logan moved her to his side and kept a hand on her smaller back. He needed to feel her, to be sure she was real and not a damn dream.

It took them a good three minutes to get to her room on the upper levels. The moment she closed the door, her hands were on Logan’s jacket, taking it off, letting it fall on the floor. Both of them stepped on it, not caring. His lips smashed against hers, all tongue and teeth. Grunts and moans echoed around them as they moved closer to the bed. 

“I wanna rip this dress off,” he said, hands grabbing both of her covered breasts into his palms, squeezing them. 

Y/N undid his tie. “No,” she chuckled, unbuttoning his white shirt. “Too fucking expensive. Here,” her fingers quickly found the zipper on her left side. She pulled it down and the dress loosened. That was Logan’s sign to pull down on it. 

“Fuck, princess,” his eyes rolled when she stood there in nothing but a black lacy thong. Her breasts were on full display, nipples stiff, just for his eyes. “Fucking perfect.” 

Before he could latch onto her hardened nipples, she forced the white button-up down off his body, hand grabbing onto his muscles, fingers brushing over some of the hair on his chest. She stood on her tiptoes to find his lips in another hungry kiss. 

His tongue dove into her mouth, caressing hers in the process. He felt her hands moving down to his belt, unfastening it. “Impatient?” his voice hoarse.

She pushed him onto her bed. He fell with a loud thud. The adamantium bones almost broke it in the process. “Shit, sorry,” she gasped, forgetting about his weight. But instantly, she climbed on top of him. Y/N pressed her breasts onto his chest as she needed to kiss him again and again. 

Logan switched it up, rolling them so she was under his body. “Now, let me ravish you before I give you my cock,” he said, lips already trailing kissed down her chest, over her breasts. His mouth took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, biting it. Her other nipple was teased by his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck, Logan,” she whimpered. 

His mouth then travelled south. His tongue left a wet trail down her stomach to the hem of her thong. He kneeled on the edge of the bed, taking her leg up in the air, kissing it from the thigh up to her ankle. “I should leave these heels on, darlin’. So fucking sexy. Fuck, and I will.” 

Y/N huffed. “Logan, please, I want your mouth on me.” 

“Ah, already begging. I love it,” he grinned. He put her leg on his shoulder. His fingers brushed down down her leg to her clothed pussy. With two fingers he brushed her over her hidden folds and clit. She practically purred. “Pretty sound.” 

“Come on, Logan, do something.” Y/N was becoming frustrated. He kept teasing her, rubbing circles over her clit. “Don’t be a fucking tease. Not now.” 

A dark laughter escaped his throat. “Patience, darlin’.” He moved the thong to the side, exposing her pussy to the cold air. He saw her clench around nothing. “What a pretty pussy, princess. So wet and ready for me.” And he buried two fingers inside her heat. 

Y/N moaned once his two thick fingers penetrated her. “Shit. Ah.” 

He pulled them out and put them straight into his mouth, tasting her. “Delicious,” hummed. “I’m gonna feast on you. Not now. Now, I need to feel you around my cock, princess.” 

Logan grabbed her thong and pulled it off her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes. He made sure to leave those heels on. “Fucking gorgeous.” He stood up to get rid of his pants. 

The moment he unzipped them, she knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Shit, Logan, commando?” she raised a brow. His length was already hard, ready for attention. The tip of his cock was angry red, already leaking precum. 

She was ready to reach for him, take his cock into her mouth and guide it into her mouth. Logan was faster. He pushed her back on the bed, shaking his head. “No, no, darlin’. I’m gonna fuck you now. And next time, I will let you have a taste of me.” 

“Next time?” she smiled. 

Logan leaned closer, his head above hers. “You think this a one-time thing? Oh, pretty girl. No, no.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Good,” she gave him a bright smile. 

He pumped his length a few times before he positioned his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inside until her hungry pussy took him all in. He cursed, groaned when her walls clenched around him. Once he was buried to the hilt, Y/N sank her nails into his chest, leaving red trails down to his belly button. They immediately disappeared, healed.

“Feel so good, princess. So tight,” he moaned as he started to move. At first slow, enjoying every stroke, watching her face like a hawk. He loved how her eyes rolled, how she gasped for air with each thrust or how she squeezed her breasts. She was fucking perfect. 

His thrusts fastened. He watched her breasts bounce as she kept fucking her. His grunts were louder, more vocal. Logan’s right hand found her neck. He wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing it. And that move made her clench hard around his cock. “Shit, Y/N,” he called her name. “Keep doing that and I will fucking cum inside you.”

Logan’s other hand sneaked between their bodies and found her clit. He started to rub it slowly, changing the movements. 

“P-please,” she gasped. “I need to cum, Logan.”

He smiled. “Yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum around my cock?”

Y/N nodded, moaning and shaking under him. “Please, please,” she begged. 

“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock. Squeeze me with your sweet pussy,” he demanded. “Wanna feel you when you cum. Shit… Ah… Fuck…”

A few more flickers of his finger was what she needed to reach her peak. Her mouth formed a perfect O, her voice suddenly gone when the wave of pleasure hit her body like a train. Her back arched as he helped her through her orgasm. 

“Fuck, baby, yes,” he grunted. “Milk me dry.” 

A few more thrusts and he spilt inside her. His hot cum painted her walls. He growled like an animal, trying to prolong his climax with every movement. His body shook and then he stopped, panting. 

His eyes found hers. There was a post-orgasmic haze in them. A smile played on her lips. She was perfect, beautiful. Logan quickly leaned down and stole a kiss from her.

“Damn, princess,” he chuckled. “Such a good girl.” 

Those words made her clench around his length again. He grinned. “You like it when I call ya a good girl? Good to know.” Slowly, he pulled her semi-hard cock out of her and rolled next to her, catching his breath. 

Y/N rolled to him, resting her leg over his body. Her fingers drew patterns on his chest, moving through the hair delicately. “This was fun,” she smiled. “It’s been a while since I had a good orgasm.” 

He raised a brow. “Next time, I’ll make you cum on my fingers,” he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips on her fingers. “Then on my tongue and around my cock,” he hummed. “I will fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

She grinned. “Is that a promise?” 

“Fuck yeah, princess.” 

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 12)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Part 12:

It felt like hours went by, and it looked like your suspicion was correct- as indicated by the deepening red of the skies of Hell, compared to the pale pinkish hue it was when Alastor teleported the two of you up here.

The entire time, Alastor hardly said even a single word- a rare occurrence, knowing his occupation and personal love of hearing himself talk. If anyone ever knew that Alastor just purely listened attentively to you for hours, they'd probably think you're lying.

You told him about how your parents and in-laws treated you like a bargaining chip for their own businesses and social standing to prosper- then for everyone to turn their backs on you as soon as you were married off. You were treated like a circus animal in a cage.

Even after that, he didn't say a word. He just rubbed his thumb across your hands as reassurance before you continued.

When you told him about how your ex-husband used and abused you, but then paraded you around as the trophy wife like nothing was wrong, all Alastor did was tighten his grip on your hands.

As you explain in full detail the emotional and physical distress it all caused you and the impact that meeting Alastor had on your life, which then spurred the meticulously planned murder of your then-husband, you could swear you feel his hands trembling ever so slightly.

Many more tears had fallen from your eyes during this whole process, your throat sore from talking so much at one time.

Then, you looked up at Alastor.

He looked at you with nothing but love and the most gentle smile you had ever seen.

Without saying a word, he stood up and walked over to you, helping you stand up. Then he gave you a warm embrace. You gasped in response. It was very rare for either of you to initiate much physical touch, but it was even less common coming from Alastor.

Not letting this opportunity go by, you wrap your arms around him.

Alastor pulls back from the embrace slowly to gently caress your face and says, "And here I thought I couldn't possibly love you even more, my dear. You're just as perfect to me as the day I first laid eyes on you..."

A chuckle escapes your lips as you lean into his touch.

"My vows still hold true, you know. As I put that ring on your finger that night you left me too early, I said to you...' 'In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear.' with only the moon and stars as my witness."

A huge smile spreads across your face, "Oh Al, honey... Looks like you were right after all, in life and in death, I'm yours". You say as you pull him into a kiss, that he happily obliges to indulge you in.

"My dear, I think we will have to have a proper exchanging of vows soon- one that isn't interrupted by a certain someone- banging on the DOOR!"

You hardly even noticed the muffled yells and banging noises that were present at door that then disappeared with a yelp as Alastor whipped around to unlock and open the door.

"Why Vaggie, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you all the way up here?" He answered the door with a low growl to his voice.

"Alastor! You just up and kidnapped our guest and haven't returned for HOURS! You can't just do that! Especially when you were threatening their life!"

"Ahahaha! Funny thing! Yes, yes I can!"

"Why you... ALAST-"

"Hey, hey! Vaggie, don't worry. I'm okay, we're okay." You quickly shoved yourself between the two of them as you felt the tensions rising.

" (y/n)! What did he do to you?? What's going on here???"

You sheepishly smile as you slink back to Alastor's side and link your arm through his, "Just uh.. reuniting?"

Vaggie took a step back and raised an eyebrow while asking, "Hold on now, what did you just say?"

Alastor clears his throat, "Ahem, why I do believe I owe you and Charlie an apology of sorts! Perhaps a 'thank you' as well for saving the love of my life, my soon-to-be fiancée from when we were still alive!"

"Excuse me- WHAT???"

-> Part 13

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[byuntrash101]

more of a cat person

f!reader x lee minho smut | mdni 1.8k it's your boyfriend's birthday and you gift him a... dog collar? Well not exactly... the collar is in deed for you but the gift is definitely for him nsfw tags under the cut

#28: pet play (twt p☆rnlink) pet play, dog collar and leash, a lot of teasing because i mean it's lee minho, oral (m), minho is an ass man (ofc), one spank, backshots, dacryphilia (he's a sadist <3), mild degradation, a lot of praising, he's gentle when he's gotta and then he gets rough because you both lil freaks, light breathplay at the very end, squirting, creampie ♡

a/n : im backkkk. honestly that one was so fun to write and so different. i hope you like it <333

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

“A dog… collar?” Minho tilted his head quizzically as he held the odd item in his hand and set the small present box aside on the coffee table. “You know I’m more of a cat person, right?” he raised one eyebrow, slightly turning to you making the leather couch creek quietly.

“It’s not for you, dummy” you said, sliding between your boyfriend’s thighs, sitting on your heels, your knees resting on the soft rug. “It’s for me” you delicately took the collar from his hands and wrapped it around your own neck.

“It’s my birthday and you’re getting yourself a gift-... oh” Minho’s words trailed off when he finally understood where you were getting at. 

“Oh don’t get me wrong the collar is for me but the gift is definitely for you, Min” you said letting a little smirk pull on your lips as you flipped the golden tag. Minho reached out to it and swiped his thumb over the engraved writing.

“Minho’s bitch” he whispered. He liked what he was seeing, he knew that much by the way his cock was jumping between his thigh as he heard the metallic clink of the hook around your neck and you slipped in his hand the leash that came along the pretty pink collar.

“A pretty little fucktoy for my birthday, huh?” Minho twisted the leather around his wrist once, twice and tugged at the leash making you draw closer. “Aren’t I lucky?”

The way his eyes darkened with obscene thoughts made you squeeze your thighs together. Minho always liked to be in control and you knew this gift was going to be effective. But you didn’t picture he would get into the role this quickly.

“So you’ll do everything I ask you to tonight?” he said, taking his available hand and tenderly rubbing your cheek. His hands were warm and gentle.

“Everything” you whispered, eyes fluttering close, letting your cheek rest against his hand, quite literally melting in his touch. But you felt the leash being tugged sharply again pulling you even closer and making your eyes snap open.

“Tsk tsk” Minho clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow. “Never heard a dog speak before” his smirk was downright evil as he was looking down at you, keeping a certain tension on the leash to make sure he was having your undivided attention as he was disciplining you. “Bark for me, bitch. Bark for your owner.”

He was hanging from your lips, eagerly anticipating hearing you submit to him in the form of giving away your human right to speak.

“Woof woof” you uttered and Minho swore he felt his cock leaking at the tip right there and then. He was so painfully hard for you. And you could feel it, you wanted to relieve him, be good for your master. But you couldn’t say anything.

So you nuzzled him, you buried your face between his thighs, rubbing your burning cheek on his even hotter cock, feeling it respond to you through the fabric of his jeans.

“Awww, puppy. I think I understand what you want”

With his available hand Minho unzipped his pants and pulled out his leaking and raging hard cock. You swallowed thickly like a dog that was presented with his favourite treat, and that wasn't too far from the truth. You opened your mouth patiently waiting.

“Good girl” Minho praised as he breached your lips, feeling your hot wet tongue on his tip, he sighed at the contact and you moaned as his taste was filling your mouth again. You instantly felt the tension melting away from your shoulders. Kneeling between your boyfriend’s thigh was your favourite place on earth, where you belonged. And Minho also knew that much. 

You began sucking his cock, bobbing your head up and down until your drool was soaking his balls and making his jeans sticky and wet. He sighed every time you spent more time focussing on his cock head. You picked up the pace and took him deeper with every groan and sigh. It was the only things you could hear: him, the lewd and wet slurping noises and the clinking of the metal tag around your neck.

“Stay” Minho said in a commanding tone, pulling on the leash again when you were fitting him whole inside your mouth. “Look at me” 

How he loved to see you like that, watery heart eyes looking up at him, mouth filled to the brim with his cock. He was so close to cumming, shooting his huge load so deep in you it would probably go out through your nose but he couldn't. Not right now. He had to enjoy his birthday gift a little longer.

He tugged at the leash again but this time to get you off his painfully sensitive cock. He needed to feel your throbbing cunt around him. And he needed it now.

“Take off your clothes”

Without much thought you obeyed peeling off one article of clothing after the other until you were in your simplest form apart from the pretty pink collar. 

“Bedroom. Now.” You were eager, your sticky juices clinging onto your thighs and you hurriedly took a step towards your shared bedroom but once again the leash stopped you.

“Awww, puppy.” Minho tilted his head and gave a mock concerned half smile. “I wanna see you crawl.” He took your face into a gentle hold and urged you on your knees again. “Like a good little bitch. Right?”

“Woof woof” 

“Good girl”

You started crawling on all fours across the living space and through the hall. Closely followed by Minho, looking at your ass roll with every step. He always liked looking at you from behind, your ass was probably his favourite thing about you so you knew he was admiring you back there, taking in the breathtaking view.

“Up” he said once you reached the bed and you climbed up. “Stay right there. Nice and pretty for me.” You felt him grab your hips and pull you to the edge of the bed while you were still on all fours. Then you heard him fumble with his belt and shed the clothes he was wearing before you felt him palm your ass, fingers spread out to cup it, groping the flesh while his other hand was still tightly holding onto the leash. 

He landed a crisp slap on your ass, making you whimper. Music to his ears. You had to bite your lips to refrain from begging for more.

But the idea was quickly gone when you felt his tip rub along your slick folds, lewd wet noises erupting from the act.

“Look at how fucking wet you got from sucking on my cock and prancing naked on all fours” He spread you ass with both hands, looking at your pretty pussy opening up for him, more slick gushing out of the slit. “You really are a bitch. A cock hungry little whore.”

There were so many things you wanted to say, you wanted to say thank you, wanted to ask him to pull on the leash more, you wanted to beg for his cock. But you were determined to obey him, be a good girl for him and you stayed silent apart from the occasional whimpering complaints, which Minho tolerated.

So it was only understandable that you felt your cunt dangerously throb as soon as he pushed his cock inside. You waited for him for so long, you almost came undone as soon as you felt his tip gently kissing your cervix. But you couldn’t yet, not without disappointing your master so you clenched your jaw, fisted the sheets and grunted. Trying so hard to refrain yourself and it worked, somehow.

“Gooood girlll" Minho said, voice a little strained, he probably also was trying to hold himself back, that would explain why he hadn’t started moving yet. 

“Fucckkk” he sighed as soon as he started pumping his cock in and out of you, at first very slowly. The kind of pace that was driving you mad, and he knew it but that’s what he liked. He loved to make you suffer. And you heard the maniacal laugh when he felt you squirm under him, pathetically trying to fuck yourself back on his cock, matching his rhythm, biting your lips almost until you drew blood to keep your pitifully little pleas behind your teeth. Minho couldn't see but he knew you were crying right now. Thick tears rolling off your burning cheeks from the sheer frustration of being fucked too slowly after this much teasing. And he loved every second of it. He loved breaking you to put you back together. You were his toy.

“Your bitch cunt is so fucking wet and tight for me. You want more? Want me to fuck faster huh?” he picked up the pace.

“woofwoofwoofwoof” you mumbled incoherently.

“Good girl, what a good little bitch you are being for Master” Now he was hammering into you. “Hghh Fuck-” His nails dug into your side as he continued to smash himself into you, drawing more slick out of your throbbing little pussy. 

Minho knew he was close and he needed to make sure you would finish before he did. He might have been a psycho sadist but he was still your loving boyfriend and he wanted you to be satisfied.

“Now you’re gonna cum for me baby, ok?” he pulled on the leash again, making your neck awkwardly bend back. The pink collar dug into your skin restricting the blood flow to your brain. 

It was exhilarating. You were deliciously light headed, your ears were ringing, Minho’s words became unintelligible, and you felt your heart beat in your pussy every time Minho was smashing inside. You thought you couldn’t possibly feel better then that but then you felt Minho hand left your waist to press on your clit. He didn’t even need to rub it, only pressing it lightly was enough to send you over the edge, making your cunt gush out more cum as you pulsed and throbbed around your boyfriend’s cock. 

And he couldn't take it anymore, not when you were this wet, literally dripping over the sheets and not when you were milking him dry demanding to be filled to the brink with his hot cum. The least he could do was grant your wish. With a low agonizing groan and a final deep thrust he delivered his load as deep as he could, effectively creaming your little cunt until it oozed out of your abused hole. His dick was still twitching when he pulled, half hard.

He finally let go of the leash and your wits are quick to come back before you crash on your stomach, too bad for the sheets ruined by cum leaking out your pussy. Minho crashed beside you seconds later, panting, his hand haphazardly looking for yours. He brought it to his lips to lay a gentle kiss on it, before smiling adorably at you. There was nothing left of the darkness that was clouding his gaze a few seconds ago. Now he was looking at you with round loving eyes and his signature bunny smile that melted your heart.

“Happy birthday, baby”

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

a/n: ugggghhhhh why is pet play + minho such a good combo thoughhh???? anyways if you enjoyed and reblog or comment before midnight i will be summoned into your bedroom tonight and i will talk for hours about my hyperfixations. you've been warned <3

[mydearlybeloathed]

“brazen” ft. zoro

Zoro rolled over when you were five feet away from his hammock, shrouded in the midday darkness he’d sought in the storage room. It’s no wonder he jerked up and nearly fell out. “Shit, don’t do that!”

Everyone else worked through various activities around the ship, the sweltering heat making some deck work miserable, but the whole crew contented themselves to a slow day at sea. Yet, you stood here, eyes slightly wide and stare greatly troubled. Zoro leaned up in his hammock, swaying it gently, and flitted his eyes all over you. You weren’t harmed by the look of you, so it had to be something different. 

Zoro was good at dealing with physical things. Like swords, wounds, and annoying cooks. You presented a challenge; you brought him immaterial emotions and ideas, rewriting the way he viewed the world till he was somehow visibly softer. Nami pointed it out to you one low-lit night, noticing how Zoro didn’t bite back at Sanji as much—he knew it upset you when he did.

So he parted his lips and closed them sharply, unsure what to do with you. From the way you stood frozen just out of arms reach, breathing carefully caught, he figured you were much the same. Zoro blinked away sleep and rubbed at his jaw. 

“Something wrong?”

Instantly, you recoiled, laughing. “Nah. Sorry I woke you, I didn’t see you’re asleep.”

Now he knew for certain you were lying. You and Zoro had been on that crew together long enough for you to know his shitty sleep schedule. He cocked his head. “Wanna try again?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re very brazen, you know.”

“And you came here for a reason,” Zoro turned it around, not bothering to ask whatever brazen meant. Later he’d skim the dictionary he’d bought just to keep up with your vast vocabulary. “So, what is it?”

Cold closed off your expression from him, foot inching backward, tiny murmurs of stupid slipping between your lips. Zoro huffed and lunged out for you, his hand catching the cloth of your shirt and yanking you back to him. You yelped, teetering on your toes, twisting around to catch yourself—your right hand hit Zoro’s chest and your left dipped into the hammock, your legs crossed and twisty. Zoro still gripped your shirt, inhale sharp and touch featherlight. 

“I know I’m… brazen,” he grunted. “But you can talk to me. You always have talked to me, so what’s the matter now?”

Chest tight, a dull ache spread from your heart to your arms and legs, up your neck and welling in your eyes. You let slip a shallow breath, a single look enough to express yourself to him. Zoro’s arms reached around your torso, righting you before hooking a hand under your thigh and heaving you into the hammock with him. You couldn’t focus on the awkward position of being on his lap, not when Zoro’s specific kind of unspoken comfort met you readily.

You slipped into his embrace flawlessly, as though you’d lain clutching him in a hammock a thousand times. His hand drew circles on your back, his eyes wide and afraid—tears started to dampen his chest, and he didn’t care at all about that, but Zoro did care about you.

And right now you needed silent comfort, and that he could give you, if nothing else. Zoro never spoke a word, hearing how your labored breathing slowed to something akin to regulated. When you felt ready, you raised your head from being buried in his chest and told him what ailed you. Zoro hung on every single word. 

“It feels superficial to say,” Zoro whispered, reaching to swipe a strand of hair out of your face. “But I think it’ll be okay. Maybe not now, but eventually.”

Relaxed with your legs resting between both of his, your hands folded atop his chest and your chin settled there, you nodded softly. You met his gaze suddenly, gathering your nerve to lean up and press a tender, lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth. You pulled back enough to say, “Thank you.”

Zoro’s hand raked into your hair and drew you back in, capturing your lips against his in the hope that all his yearning, devotion, and appreciation could become tangible in your hands. He dealt with physical things, and you dealed in the unspoken; yet that stark divide felt bridged then and there in that little hammock.

[holybibly]

Bunnies, today we have a special unholy hour. It's our fox's birthday and I think there's nothing better than giving him a special present.

Your fingers run slowly down the length of Yeosang's back, gently stroking the smooth, bare skin up and down. He stirred slightly at your soft, intimate touch, a sleepy murmur escaping his pink, parted lips as he slowly began to regain consciousness.

"Happy birthday, Sangie." You whispered sweetly in his ear and scratched him lightly with your nails, leaving a slight reddish mark on his skin.

"Birthday?" His voice is deep and husky from sleep, and damn, it's so incredibly sexy. Rubbing his soft hazel eyes sleepily, Yeosang sits up in bed and leans back against the pillows.

You nod and turn your eyes to the clock on the bedside table. It's midnight. 

After Yeosang has fallen asleep next to you, his angelic face pressed against your stomach, you stay up for a while before giving up the idea altogether. After all, it would be useless; today was a special day, and you had certain plans for your lover.

It was almost disgusting how much you loved and adored your boyfriend; you felt like you had fallen into a honey pot. It was sticky and sweet—too much and never enough. Damn it, Yeosang was absolutely everything in your life, and it was pure luck that this fox had inexplicably fallen in love with you just as deeply and irrevocably. Sometimes the boys would get sick of seeing how cute and in love you two were, but, to be honest, you didn't care at all.

"Yes, baby, it's your birthday." You say this as you reach out to turn on the bedside lamp before turning back to him, your lips pressing against his cheek in an almost instinctive way. "I'm sorry, love, for waking you. I hope you don't mind; I know how busy you are these days."

Yeosang gave a weak shake of his head as he ran his hand through his hair and blinked a couple of times, trying to get used to the soft, yellowish light that was now filling the once-pitch black space of your bedroom. Every time you thought that Yeosang couldn't possibly be any more handsome, he would find a way to prove you wrong.  His eyelashes fluttered, framing his hazel-amber eyes with a soft lace, and you found yourself literally dissolving into the sweet gold of his gaze.

"Mmm, you know I can never be angry with you, baby."

"That's good. Can I give you my present now, my beautiful sleepy boy?" You ask, your voice soft and muffled as you move closer to him and run your hand down the side of his neck. God, he's just unbelievably beautiful.

He leans into your touch, and you almost laugh at how your usually dominant and possessive boyfriend becomes so obedient and gentle with just a few sweet kisses and touches. But that is just before he completely wakes up and starts playing with you the way he likes.

"What are you going to give me, baby?" Yeosang asks you with a slight smile on his lips. 

He leans in to kiss you, and you let him and you lose yourself in the warm, soft movement of his lips for a couple of minutes. As much as you love his rough and brash side, there are times when you wish that Yeosang would be a little more soft and gentle with you. His hand rests on your neck, squeezing weakly, and you take this as a sign to move away, or else what you've planned will fail.

"No, wait, just one more, darling..." You laugh and shake your head as you slide down the bed, pulling the silk cover down with you until you're nestled between his legs. You run your fingers down his stomach, which has a pronounced set of abs, and watch as the muscles clench under your touch.

His foxy amber eyes widen as he finally understands what you meant when you spoke of the gift, and the almost imperceptible tremble of his wet, pink lips tells you of his surprise.

You begin to knead his milky thighs, squeezing the flesh until it turns red, and watch as the initial surprise gives way to something darker and sexier: his eyes narrow, his breath deepens, and a knowing grin forms on his lips. Oh, damn it.

You swallow and try not to give in to the temptation, and just try not to let Yeosang take control of the situation and fuck you senseless. Now it's all about him.

"Sangie, are you going to let me take care of you, my birthday boy? I have no doubt that you will be in love with my special present." You hum to yourself as you start to leave light kisses on his stomach and dig your fingers deeper into his thighs—thighs that you just love to ride on.

"Hmm, if you say so, baby. I can't wait to get my present." His hand reaches up to the top of your head and runs through your hair, and you let out a weak moan of pleasure when he pulls you by the long strands. Hell, he always knew how to make you melt with just a little contact.

You tilt your head so that you can bite into the smooth skin on the inside of his thigh. The initial feel of your teeth sinking into the juicy flesh of his thigh is a bit harsh, but your tongue relieves the pain almost immediately as it runs over the swollen red markings.

This caused a low hiss to escape from his chest, the sound almost feline in nature, and Yeosang, in retaliation, tightened his grip on your hair.

"Hmm, what is it, baby? Is it hurting?" You mutter to yourself before you go back to licking and kissing the inside of his thighs, showering him with as much love as you possibly can.

Yeosang moaned softly, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he felt his cock twitch in his underwear. An impatient whimper escaped his pretty lips as he watched you greedily lick and bite his thighs, leaving hickeys and bruises on his pale skin, deliberately avoiding his heavy boner. 

"Fuck..." Yeosang curses as you finally squeeze his erection with the palm of your hand, a hint of relief appearing on his gorgeous face now that his cock is getting the attention it deserves.

You looked up at him as you stuck your tongue out and pressed it against his clothed cock, drooling on the fabric and leaving a wet spot on it.

"Don't tease me, baby." You can hear the note of warning in his hoarse voice. It amuses you, but at the same time, you know better than to play with fire. Yeosang can be sweet, but only when he wants to be.

You pull his boxers down before you slide your palm back around his warm, wet from pre-sperm cock and let him thrust his hips up, chasing the pleasure like he's a horny teenager getting his first handjob. 

You ran your hand over his cock a few times, feeling its heavy weight pulsate against your palm, before licking the swollen red head of his cock and collecting drops of pre-cum with the tip of your tongue. The bitter-sweet taste of his pre-cum makes you moan as you swallow the sticky liquid, which is mixed with your own saliva.

A shiver of pleasure ran through his body in response to what you were doing. You always knew how to handle his cock properly to make him squirm. Every time your warm mouth slides over his thick circumference and your tongue wraps around that wet head, he practically gasps for breath, and it's about the only thing that can make him whimper and sob. The rest of the time, Yeosang wants to listen to you make those pathetic, erotic sounds. 

You run your tongue along the base of his cock, leaving sloppy kisses all along its velvety length, worshipping his big, thick dick with your mouth. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and he rolls his gorgeous foxy eyes as you take the head in your warm, wet mouth and start to suck it sweetly. 

He tightens his grip on your hair, groaning deeply. The veins in his neck swelled and pulsed with the pleasure flowing through them, heavy and hot as molasses.

"Fuck, baby..." His hips jerk as you swallow his cock all the way to the base, pressing your nose against the smooth, hot skin of his pubic area. The sight of it alone was almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Fuck, love, don't stop. You take me so good, damn it. Please." Yeosang's praise sounds like melted honey to you, and he sobs softly as you swallow, the walls of your throat tightening around his cock in the most delightful way.

You look up at him with your eyes clouded with desire, the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, and it seems to excite him all the more. Yeosang pulls on your hair again, causing your mouth to slide up to the length of his cock. 

It's a silent command: Start to move now, baby.

You obediently obey and begin to bob your head up and down at a fairly steady pace. The sounds of your soft gagging mix with the wet, disgusting squelching of your saliva and Yeosang's pre-cum filling the room. But to him, it was like real music. You whimpered around his cock as he lifted his hips up and down, hitting the back of your throat a little harder than you thought it would. The fact that you didn't tell him to stop just made him want to do it over and over again, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to fuck your throat as if you were his own personal fuck toy. Warm and tight sleeve for his dick. 

Sometimes he even has to think about what he would like to fuck more: your sweet, pink pussy or your hot, slippery throat.

"God, your mouth really is an amazing gift, baby." Yeosang moans, trying to match the rhythm of your movements, pushing his hips harder into your mouth. Your tongue pressed flat against his cock, the thick vein of it dragging along the wet, soft tongue every time the head of it hit the back of your throat. "I need you so much. I'm so in love with you, baby. You're mine. My damn perfect girl."

As you swallow around him again and Yeosang lets out a low, velvety moan, shuddering as thick, when his orgasm consumes him, hot cum spurts down your throat, forcing you to swallow all of this in one go. You lazily run your hand over his sensitive member a few more times, prolonging his orgasm as you do so. When he's completely drained, you remove his cock from your mouth. Thin strands of cum and saliva drip from your lips onto his skin, and you stick out your tongue to lick them off.

Your hands gently massage the tight muscles of his thighs. A few minutes pass before you sit on your knees and look at how beautiful and hot your boyfriend looks right now.

"This is the perfect gift for me, baby. I love you." He whispers as he reaches out with his hand to wipe away the saliva and cum from around your swollen, soft mouth. He almost gets hard again at the sight of your shiny lips. But can you really blame him? You're always so fuckable and so tender. He is a man in love. Sue him for it.

Now that you have successfully given him your gift, you smile sweetly at him and allow him to take care of you. He was very good at this, always making sure that he expressed his gratitude with endless praise and gentle actions. He leans forward and kisses you, even though your mouth was on his cock a few minutes ago. His lips lingered on yours, prolonging the tender, intimate moment before he pulled away with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Shall we take a shower?" You ask, looking at him through your long lashes. Really, the only thing on your mind is whether he'll fuck you now. And God, you don't want him to go easy on you.

"Of course, baby. That's just what we need, isn't it?"

You don't answer him; you crawl out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, almost vibrating with excitement. But before you step into the bathroom, you turn around in the doorway and look at Yeosang, who is still lying on the bed. His body is glistening with sweat, which makes the relief of his chest and abdominal muscles look all the more attractive and delicious. His soft hair is tousled, and there is a beautiful strawberry blush on his cheeks.

Damn it, you are so very much in love with this man. Your heart is literally going to stop because of how much you are in love with him.

"Sangie, happy birthday, my love."

[wonwoonlight]

when mingyu takes jungkook's advice but forgets about one (1) thing

fluff // idol!au // mingyu is dumb in love // sex implied but this drabble is nothing but fluff!!!!!

It's three in the morning when Mingyu turns on the live.

He's still high on adrenaline for some reason; the whole day has been great and not one single thing went wrong even though some schedules got him worried at first. His meals were all exactly to his liking, his exercise went like a breeze, and he got to see you.

Perhaps the last one is what makes him so high. After all, it's been a little over a month since he saw you and finally being able to see you and feel you... gosh it was the closest feeling he would describe as euphoric.

You're currently sleeping in his room, blisfully unaware that your boyfriend has turned on his live just one room away.

"Hi." He grins and waves at the camera. "If you remember I told you some time ago that I'd start listening to a certain senior... here I am."

He fixes his hoodie over his head, happy that the fans seem happy with his wardrobe: a grey sleeveless hoodie with nothing underneath.

"I look like your boyfriend?" His grins widen, his mind flying to you. "Your boyfriend must be very handsome then."

"Hmmm, why do I look happy when it's 3 in the morning? Why? Am I not allowed to be happy at this hour?" He comes closer to his screen to look at the comments. "I'm not drunk! But I might’ve had a liiiiittle bit of alcohol earlier."

The live continues on like that, and between all the crazy things he's seen Jungkook did, he's starting to see why the guy is fond of doing lives at this hour. As an idol, he's usually wide awake at ungodly hours, and even though he knew the company and Seungcheol would have his head tomorrow, he can't be bothered to care at this moment.

He's blaming it on the alcohol too. But by the time he even remotely considers something might go very wrong, he's having too much fun with his fans and he's way too drunk on the happy feeling from everything that has happened during the past 24 hours.

"It's okay. If I get scolded then I get scolded." He addresses the fans' concerns. "They probably won't reupload this so consider this a present for all of you here, okay? Let's have fun while we're at it."

"Mmmmh. Is there nothing fun? Tell me something fun." He frowns as he squints at his screen, trying to read through the comments.

"What I'm wearing underneath this?" He grins teasingly and tugs the neck of his hoodie. "What do you think?"

It's seconds later that the comment section goes crazy, and he blinks in confusion, trying to see why people are screaming. It doesn't help that no one gives him any context until he finally catches one single comment that gets his heart beating so loud he can hear it on his ears.

Was that hickey on your collarbone???

He continues to play stupid, answers some questions that he made up in his mind while pretending to look for one in the comment sections, stays on live for another five minutes before he says he's starting to get sleepy so he needs to go.

He stares into space for a good ten minutes after he turns off the live.

He's fucked.

He's so fucked.

How the fuck is he going to explain this to the company and all of his members tomorrow? At least he's actually been considering going public with you for quite some time, have talked about it with his members and the company also, but this isn't how he imagined it would be.

Biting his lip, he's too lost in his thoughts to realize you've stepped out of your room, looking a little lost also, wondering why he's in the living room.

"Why are you not in bed?" You ask adorably, rubbing your eyes as you plop on the sofa besides him. "And why is your phone propped like that?"

His arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest, already imagining not having to hide you away anymore after whatever hurricane that will pass tomorrow.

But.

First thing first.

"Babe." He squeezes your shoulder, already feeling sorry at your sleepy hum because he's sure you won't be sleepy after this. But whatever, imagining his future self showing you off to everyone is going to be worth it.

He grins when you look up in confusion, the dangerous grin that you know is up for trouble.

"We might have a problem. "

[ticklishraspberries]

Tell Him (George O'Malley x Reader)

Summary: You’re dating George O’Malley. You tell him about a certain liking of yours, and although he’s initially confused, he tries to understand. (This is incredibly self-indulgent and the reader is essentially just me. If anyone actually reads this, it’ll be a miracle, lmfao. Mentions of sex and tickling as a kink, but overall this fic is more fluff than smut.)

“I can’t.”

George sighed, but he had an amused expression on his face. “Whatever you’re gonna tell me, I won’t freak out. You know that, right?”

You blushed, avoiding his eyes. “It’s embarrassing. It’s not bad, but it's embarrassing.”

He took your chin, making you meet his eye. “Well, I’m not gonna pressure you. Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Alright. Go save some lives, Dr. O’Malley.”

He kissed you quickly before heading out, and you sighed, resting your head in your hands. It was silly, really, and you were getting him worked up over nothing. If only your embarrassment, your shame didn’t run so deep, if only you had the guts to spit out a simple confession.

And it was over something so stupid.

Cuddling in bed with George last night had been nice. He was warm, and groggy after a day of interning at the hospital, but present enough to rub your back sweetly, muttering sweet words. And then his fingers had strayed near your side, soft and it had startled you and made you twitch.

“You alright?” he asked.

You had nodded. “All good.”

And then, he’d done it again. By accident, still. And you had twitched again, a puff of air resembling a soft laugh leaving your nose.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I tickling you?” he’d asked.

You chuckled nervously. “A little.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

“It’s fine.”

And that had been it. What you hadn’t said was that it was completely fine if he tickled you, and that it would be fine to continue, because you enjoyed it.

You just couldn’t spit that out. And George deserved to know, because he would clearly do anything in his power to make you happy, and yet, you were afraid that something as simple as a little tickling would be the thing to scare him off.

His shift was long. Long enough for you to think it over. To plan out everything you would want to say, to prepare for a worst-case scenario. It wouldn’t be so bad. George was sweet. He was an angel, honestly, and the chances of him reacting poorly were slim to none. But that fear still lingered. The fear of rejection, ridicule, or just plain old misunderstanding.

But George would understand. He had to.

So after a long, long shift, George was back in your bed. Warm, sleepy, and hopefully ready to listen to your words.

“You ready to tell me what you wanted to say this morning?” he asked.

“Yes. No. Maybe?” you replied. “It’s…I really need to stress to you that it’s not a big deal. It really isn’t, but I’m embarrassed and this is really hard for me to talk about.”

He pulled you close. “I’m here to listen. What’s going on?”

“So, last night…You were rubbing my back, and you…Well, you…”

“Is this about me tickling you?” he interrupted. “Because it was an accident, and I won’t do it—”

“No, no, that’s…I wanna tell you that it’s okay. That I…I liked it. I mean, I would like it if you did it…Intentionally, next time.”

George blinked at you, mouth opening and closing. “I’m sorry…You liked it?”

There it was. The twinge of judgement in his voice. It made you deflate, cheeks turning red.

He sensed the shift in your attitude and immediately shook his head. “No, no, it’s not a bad thing. I’m just…Surprised, that’s all! Because, well, my brothers used to tickle me all the time and I always hated it. I mean, they were rough, and it hurt, and they used to make me cry…So, I mean, the idea of someone liking it is just sort of weird to me. Not weird in a bad way, God, that came out wrong…Weird as in uncommon—”

“No, it’s okay, I get it,” you said. “I’m sorry your brothers did that to you. But, it’s just…I’ve always liked it, and I can’t help it, it’s just wired into my brain for some reason, and it’s embarrassing and I’ve had partners react badly to it in the past, so if you’re weirded out, it’s fine, I just…I wanted to tell you because it makes me happy, and you make me happy.”

George smiled. “Okay. If you like it, that’s fine. I can…I can do it, more, if that makes you happy. Is it…Is it like, a sex thing or a cuddly thing?”

You gave another nervous laugh. “Both? It’s not inherently sexual, but it can be hot. We can talk about the sex part later, though. This is all too embarrassing for me.”

George laughed, too. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s fine,” he said, kissing your temple. “We can talk about it another time.”

You assumed that was the end of the conversation, but his hands found your sides and squeezed, making you squeal.

“So, you like this?” he asked. “Or do you like it better…here?” His hands moved upwards towards your ribs, his fingers prodding into the spaces between your bones with his surgical precision. It only made you giggle harder, feet kicking.

“You’re giggling too hard to answer me, baby,” he cooed.

“Shut up,” you whined. “You’re being mean!”

“How am I being mean? I’m doing what you asked! I think that’s pretty nice of me, actually.”

You had nothing to say in response, just laughing. You were so happy. So loved.

That night, you fell asleep wrapped in George’s arms, the phantom sensation of his tickly fingers still on your abdomen.

***

“Tickling you is really fun,” George said. “I mean, it’s cute. You smile and you laugh and it’s adorable, and I know it makes you happy.”

You flushed, biting your lip. “But…?”

“No, no but. Well, maybe? I think…If you did it to me, I don’t know if I would hate it or not, but…I know you’ve mentioned that you like it either way…If you wanted to try, I mean, I’d be open to it.”

He was blushing, too. How fucking cute could he be?

“Really?” you asked. “I mean, if you’re open to it, I would love to try. Only if you’re sure, though. I know your brothers were pretty harsh, so I don’t wanna push.”

“No, I’m…I want you to try it. You always look like you’re having so much fun. And, it might take my mind off of the three surgeries I scrubbed in on today.”

You grinned. “It is a pretty good distraction.”

He laid back against the mattress, looking up at you with those doe eyes. You grinned, sitting up beside his body and using one hand to stroke his hair. “Where should I start, hm?”

George squirmed. “Well, when I was younger, my stomach was really bad. And, and my sides. But I’m pretty much ticklish everywhere, as you’ve discovered during other activities, which, if I had known you liked it, I wouldn’t have apologized so many times when I laughed—”

You interrupted his rambling by using one hand to lightly tickle his stomach, feeling his muscles jump beneath your fingertips, listening to the loud, squeaky laugh that burst from his lips.

“Still bad?” you asked.

“Still ticklish, but it doesn’t suck,” he giggled in response. He was clearly fighting to keep still, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

You grinned. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute,” he cried. “I’m a strong, masculine—Ah!”

His laughter took on a new octave as you introduced your other hand to his belly.

“Too much?”

He shook his head. Then, after another minute, he shook it again. “Wait, no, actually, too much!”

You stopped immediately. “Are you okay?”

George wrapped his arms around his middle, protecting his middle although your onslaught had already stopped. “I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s just…still a lot.”

“No worries. I know, it can be really overwhelming sometimes.”

He smiled. “A little. But I didn’t hate it,” he said. “We can try it again, another time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. For now, cuddle me.”

And, well, how could you say no to that?

[sovereignjojoz]

Syzoth vs human pregnancy

Summary: he’s dealt with zaterran pregnancy so how will he fare with human, it shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

Notes - this is my first time writing for syzoth so I hope it’s okay still getting used to his character!! Also some things could be wrong with the “zaterran” aspects I mostly based it on reptiles because “reptile” lol.

There was a certain human idiom that syzoth had found appreciation for recently, “get a second bite at the cherry”, as luck would have it he had been blessed with a second chance at fatherhood yet contrary to his first partner his second partner was human, leaving a lot of ambiguity surrounding the baby.

Each day that passed his mind was plagued with wether the baby would take more of the human aspects similar to you and his human form or aspects of his zaterran form, or perhaps even a combination of both! Irregardless of how the baby looked he’d still love them with his whole heart, it was just harmless curiosity.

As he had already had experience in catering to his zaterran wife’s need so he was confident he’d be able to cater to your needs during this time, he presumed zaterran and human pregnancy had many similarities.

Immediately he started preparing some of the minor things such as reducing the temperature down to the coldest setting and moving around the furniture for when his young hatched, since that wouldn’t be a long time from the present it was better to get the hassle out of the way now rather than when it’s too late.

The change stuck out like a sore thumb, the cool draft instantly hit your skin causing goosebumps to flare up on your skin while majority of your furniture was seemingly gone.

The sole item that remained in the living room was the couch, which your boyfriend was currently lounging on. You quickly made you way over to him and plopped down on his lap, giving him a small but sweet little kiss.

He used one hand to pull himself back so he was in an upwards position against the chair cushion so you were in a more comfortable position.

You smiled at him and put his hand to rest on your stomach, his touch was extremely calming.

“You changed some things around in here?” You asked snuggling up to his muscular form.

He stroked your slightly protruding stomach, “yes, I thought it was a necessity to make things easier as the babies will be here soon.”

You supposed he was right, time would move rather quickly so it would be better to be prepared.

“I suppose so, but soon is rather early don’t you think?” You questioned.

He raised a brow at you, innocently intrigued, “whatever do you mean my love? There is merely twenty days left before our babies are born, I’d even go as far as saying we were almost pushing it.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “syz, what do you mean there’s only twenty days left? I’m only like 9 weeks along?”

He nodded, “exactly, that is almost full term, correct?”

You opened your mouth to speak before closing it once more, thinking on his customs. “No…?” You said tentatively, “a human pregnancy lasts 9 months syzoth.”

His viridescent eyes widened as curiosity painted his face, “oh really? How interesting.”

“How long do Zaterran pregnancies last?”

“The babies are usually born after sixty days, it is honestly not a long process which is why learning of this lengthy time has left me speechless.” He rubbed his short hair as he thought about the complexity that came with humanity.

You squished his cheek, “wow, that’s amazing but can I ask you something?”

“Of course my sweetheart.”

You continue stroking the soft flesh of his cheek, “why do you keep saying babies, plural, instead of baby?”

He kissed the inside of your palm, “because it is natural? It is common to have up to 10 kids at once within my species, that’s why the furniture was moved so there will be space for the babies are born.”

Your jaw hung agape, “t-ten?” You cleared your throat, “Zaterran woman are strong, however I think we’re only having one child.”

“No I assure you that we are having more than one child.” He ruffled your hair and smiled as if he was bemused by your naivety.

You arched your brow, “well how many do you think?”

“Perhaps three, or four, or maybe even five-” before he could even finish his sentence your hand was on his mouth preventing him from speaking, five kids wasn’t something you wanted spoken into existence.

“On that note, I’m going to bed.” Syzoth nodded and released your hand so you could get up from his embrace, “are you coming?”

His soft lips placed a tender kiss on your own while you lingered at the doorway waiting for his answer, “I will be in bed shortly.”

You nodded then went to tuck yourself in.

But even though four hours had passed, there was still something missing…something besides you to be specific. And why was it so cold.

Quickly, you grabbed the fluffy pink blanket that laid atop of the bed and wrapped it tightly around your shivering frame. Normally you wouldn’t have to worry about such things as even though he was cold blooded syzoth provided an abnormal amount of warmth yet when you reached beside you for him all you felt was the untouched side of where he usually lay.

You shuffled out the bedroom with a small nightlight in your hand in sought of where your boyfriend could possibly be.

“Syz?” You peered from around the corner into the nursery, shivering with each step you took.

The taller male groggily rose up from the small confines of a plush stool he’d tucked himself onto.

“[name]?”

Honestly you had so much to say yet nothing at all at the same time, “I- what are you doing in that,” you made a gesture with your hands “tiny space, and why is it so cold?”

Syzoth rubbed his hands into his eyes, groaning a little as he stretched his lithe limbs. “I thought you would feel more comfortable.”

You walked over to him and grabbed his calloused hand, attempting to drag him back to bed however he broke your hold before you could even take two steps further.

He knew by the quizzical look on your face you were slightly confused about his actions, “I understand you might miss my presence, I miss yours tenfold, but it is probably for the best that we sleep separately.”

“Why though, it’s cold?”

He seemed hesitant to answer, “well isn’t it common knowledge that pregnancy makes people aggressive, my zetattan wife tried to kill me when she was pregnant with our son so I thought this would be easier? And my mother always used to tell me that coolness is good for a strong baby and the mother? Have I presumed wrong?”

You giggled and cupped his cheeks, “you’re so cute and thoughtful y’know but I want you in the bed.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “maybe sometimes I’ll have mood swings but I’m not going to eat you.” You glanced him once over, “well unless…”

He chuckled at that and pinched your cheek lightly, “let’s just go back to bed, I now understand zetarran customs are different from earth realm, but there’s plenty of time for me to learn.”

“Exactly.”

He extended his hand out for you to grasp, “wait actually now it’s been mentioned I am kinda hungry.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yeah!! I’d especially love to try a bowl of those insects you eat with milk and cookies right now. Ooo! Like some sort of sprinkled garnish!”

Nevermind, perhaps he’d never understand the complex ways of earth realm.

[dr-spectre]

Hello everyone, I got some announcements to share and some plans for the future of this blog now that the Grand Fest is over and the news drought begins.

(LONG POST AHEAD!!!!)

I think going forward I'm gonna change how I approach myself acting online and be less "OH MY GOD HOLY SHITENWIOEDISIWIEOE GUYYS!!!"

Because to be honest with you all... I've been feeling very self conscious about the way that I've been acting online and I feel like I gotta channel my passion for Splatoon in a much more healthy and less EXTREMEEEEE way.

I am aware that um.... people have blocked me... and you know, that's to be expected of course when you are online and you're slowly building a following. Still really stings, though, and I think it's due to the fact that sometimes I can be sorta- "This is what happened, and if you disagree with me, you're an idiot and you're wrong!!!!!" When I make posts. And I don't wanna do that, and I don't want to come off as a gatekeeping fan that thinks lower of other people who might not know my stances very well. I wanna educate people and present my stuff as more of "Hey guys, this is what I think actually happened in this event. Feel free to take a look! I think this is really cool and I wonder what you guys think of this perspective that i have?"

And sometimes I can be pretty loud mouthed and stuff and I have talked shit towards certain characters. I remember one time I made a post where I said "what the fuck is wrong with Marie?" And said some stuff... I probably rubbed a lot of people the wrong way with that post... and other posts. I'm so sorry if I have made some of you upset in the past or have said some awful things about your favourite characters in the series...

As you guys probably know, I am passionate about Hypno Callie and I have very strong stances and opinions on her. And that leads to me get a bit... out of control. Callie is my biggest comfort character and to see certain people try and push this vile and disgusting event that happened to her... that she was kidnapped by Octavio and the Octarians when she was alone, and that he brainwashed her and forcibly put the shades on her, or he tricked her and he removed her memories too...

and I try to see the same event in a completely different lens... I see it as more of Octavio manipulating her in a more subtle way and due to Callie's poor mental state and desperation, she heard him out. Octavio used the shades as a way to control her more easily but he doesnt have full direct control over her because her influence helped motivate the Octarians. Octavio still wanted Callie to be... well... Callie. Plus, Callie was more than willing to help the Octarians as well, as she thinks they are cute. I do have evidence to back it up as well as articles and definitions explaining how hypnosis actually works and its limitations.

But this perspective gets compromised and put into question in my head when people keep pushing and pushing and PUSHING the other thing. Then it feels like I have to yell and get mad.... I've seen it as recently as when Blushing Tide came out and I looked at the YouTube comment section on one of the uploads and I just kept seeing people say "oh it's like Tidal Rush but without the brainwashing" or some shit like that idk. I dont remember it well but i know I saw the word floating around. (Don't look at YouTube comment sections. You won't get anything of value from them.)

Anyways, I also wanna cut back on swearing too because sometimes I border on being a hazbin hotel character and I DO NOT want myself to get to that level LMAO!

So what shall I be doing now that Splatoon 3 is officially wrapped up? Well... I wanna do more creative projects and fun stuff like that. I got good reception from my haikus for the Grand Fest and I think doing more stuff like that sounds really really fun!!! And it might actually give me a reason to finish stuff as well lol...

Like I have a God damn Splatoon 2 hero mode finale rewrite that's nearly done and it's been sitting on my Google docs since JULY!!!! I have also made plans to do a fan sequel to the Squid Sisters Stories that takes place in between Splatoon 2 and 3 because that time frame for the Squid Sisters has been barely touched upon. I'm also doing a personal project where it's basically what I want to see out of a Splatoon 4 and I've been really enjoying making that. I dont know if I would ever share it but... it's something to do for me at least.

I also wanna involve myself in the community more, I received an ask where someone said (I forgot who asked I'm so sorry) if I could do a thing where I receive Splatoon OCs and critique them. That sounds really fun!!!

Maybe i can do photo mode competitions or showcases!!! Where I choose a theme (Callie, water, Splatsville, etc) and people submit their photos and I critique them and showcase them to everyone!!! Does that sound like something people would be interested in?! I would love to know as virtual photography is a hobby I love to partake in and I wanna encourage more people to try it!

There is also other stuff i can do like going over the Idols outfits and rating them, but I don't have the motivation to do that at the moment and I know it's not gonna be as in-depth as the one I did for Callie.

Anyhow, that's basically what I have so far. I think im gonna slow down on posting and I'm gonna chill out. Or at least I'll try to chill out.

I've just been feeling incredibly guilty and kinda... sad that I've been acting in a certain way for a while. And I really wanna change that. I dont like making people upset and I don't wanna be the kind of Splatoon fan that puts down others who don't even know any better and don't know who I am....

But enough being sad, I wanna focus on the present and make sure that my future on here is bright!!!

[thatlittleviolin]

//A little ramblig about eddie dear bc i cant stop thinking about him

Im not joking when i say this whole post was inspired after seen @//purple-raspberries “the mailman” drawing because O MY STARS WHAT IS THAT DRAWINgGGGGGG /pos

Okay so anyway, whats up with Eddie Dear? As, like, an active character of Welcome Home?

Something rubs me in the wrong way when it comes to him as a whole, not that I dislike him, pretty��� much the opposite (thats why I'm making this post) actually, but I feel he is more relevant to the lore than what ppl give him credit for.

Even way before the past-year (2023) Halloween and Homewarming updates, I felt that he must simply be more than what is presented to us about him:

- He is the only character who sees all the rest of the neighbours every day due to his work

- He is one of the few if not the only one who is confirmed to be from outside of Home

- He brings one of the TWO functional clocks in all of Home (which could well be due to the nature of his work, but it doesn't take away from the fact that it's curious)

And I know, ik, this is not a lot. In fact, I believe this is not crucial info, but I want to mention it because it gives, in some way, a certain statement: Eddie Dear is not like everyone else. It differentiates him from the others.

There's simply something intriguing about him; and I constantly think about how, again, he's the resident who interacts most with his neighbors, the most helpful and willing to do anything, and despite that, he's the one who gets the most hits?

Hes always in a rush because he likes helping others, he's clumsy and yet he does his job in a stellar way and yet he goes the more underappreciated by his neighbors and its the first one to get to have his own personal breakdown during the Homewarming

Keep in mind, I don't mean that the other characters are bad or smth, we all know that inside they care for each other and are a pretty nice neighborhood-

But yea, starting with the most obvious, Howdy and Sally are downright condescending, bordering on rude to him. Howdy ignores him or pays half attention when he goes to deliver merchandise to the Bugdega and tries to start a conversation, and despite this, we can see that Howdy asks him for help to deliver things to someone else.

More specifically, during a hidden audio, we can hear that he uses Eddie to deliver an order of bowling balls to Julie DESPITE Howdy having a home delivery system and probably being able to better handle the weight of the merchandise, being at least two heads taller than Eddie, right when Eddie had just told him he had a very tiring day (of course he didn't hear that)

Sally, on her side, is condescending to him to the degree that when we hear them interacting, at least until now, it's mostly her giving him orders. Heck, Sally has a "long name" for every resident EXCEPT Eddie, whom she usually just calls "Mailman" for everything.

Julie and Frank tend to be more passive about it, but it doesn't take away from the fact that they also end up... taking advantage a bit? Or leaving him a bit aside. I know, I know, we all ship FranklyDear here, but it still bothers me how during "Eddie's big lift" (+ another hidden audio) we're shown how Julie tends to involve him in her games without much consideration as to whether Eddie even understands them to begin with, and Frank, despite acknowledging that he works hard and often overworks for everyone, leaves him lying on the ground. They don't even wait for him to get up to say goodbye properly, they just leave him there and go home. It's a bit sad to hear how Eddie talks to himself while getting up and dusting himself off.

And finally, one that I understand is a joke but serves as a transition to my next point: Barnaby and his constant gag of chasing Eddie around the neighborhood as soon as he sees him making his deliveries, or insisting that Eddie lifts him up because “he's just a puppy”. I won't delve into this (not now) because I know that overall that's Barnaby's way of joking; Eddie is not his only victim, but when you mix it with everything said above, it gives off some weird vibes.

It's as if Eddie was the typical "punching bag" character of the show's creators; you know, the one created so that the fun we get from him is at his expense, and sadly, somehow that fact makes sense to me as to why he's the first to have a "breakdown" during Homewarming and said breakdown has to do with, what else? his isolation and probable sadness.

During Sally's history and Poppy's confinement in her own house, there were two predominant themes: what happens when we're in the dark, what lurks in the shadows and whatnot, and isolation: Sally talks about this but Poppy experiences it first hand; shes alone and in the dark, house bricked to the top. However, Eddie gets overwhelmed despite being surrounded by everyone and, clearly, in a lit environment.

My opinion? Said loneliness and darkness don't necessarily need to be tangible, and in Eddie's case, they come from a mental place. My dear doesn't seem to have too much appreciation for himself, constantly letting people get the help they want (need, of course) from him at the cost of his own well-being. Eddie Dear is not happy, in fact, I feel he puts himself down a bit, which equates to darkness, and when he can distract himself from this fact again, Home reminds him; and his loneliness comes in a literal-but-not way. Eddie is never alone, that's evident, but again, in the Homewarming video we're not only emphasized that he's upset and confused because no one has asked him for help, but because he DOESN'T KNOW how to handle his own activities outside of work. Anything that doesn't have to do with the post office but is more personal overwhelms him because he's not used to thinking outside of how he should help others because that's his "only" way of interacting with them. Eddie needs to be needed in order to be closer to others, and when that's not the case, it frustrates him so much that it even seems like anger.

Heck, it's even sad how Sally mentions that nobody bothered him with the usual tasks they would require him for to give him a day off, and then downright nobody interacted with him. Not even Julie called him to play. When Sally finds him under Home's tree, she asks him to escort her to Home for the Homewarming and it's narrated that they're the last to arrive, but if Eddie hadn't left his house then... what? Would he have stayed there? (Lowkey I theorize that he wouldn't have, because of the fact that Sally and Frank seem to have more awareness than the others, I feel like she was actually waiting for him)

Personally, I consider that when it comes to a case like Eddie's, it's even worse, because you don't need to be actively in a closed and dark place, isolated (in what voluntary situation would someone have to be like that?) for your head to go completely to shit. Think about it, you make Home angry and he doesn't need the rest of the neighbors to build a wall around you. It does what you already do well: it locks you up with your thoughts and leaves you there.

So,,, uh, yeah, I don't know how to end this.

I just wanted to talk about my fav man.

somebody help him PLAEASSE

[elrielffs]

This is the only fandom that INSIST their head canons and what they desire HAVE to happen.

What happened to crack ships?

What happened to enjoying fanfic?

Here's the thing. No one cares what you ship. No one cares what you want to happen. No one cares about how you view certain things.

It's THE INSISTENCE that rubs.

You like Neris? Okay, but stop insisting Cassian is gonna die or Nesta is gonna reject the bond. Enjoy Neris fanfiction, commission Neris fanart but DON'T back track thru the books to cherry pick sentences out of context to fit your narrative. Don't INSIST on what you FEEL is going to happen IS going to happen and everyone is else dumb cause you've picked up the CRUMBS.

You think Rhysand and the IC are evil? Okay, but SJM obviously did not write with that intent so stop INSISTING they are because YOU don't agree with what they do and you FEEL they are evil.

You like Tamlin/Eris? Great, everyone has their fans, it's not right or wrong but stop INSISTING they didn't do anything bad actually and everything they did was justified. If you like a character fine but like them with all their flaws instead of trying to excuse it or sweep it under the rug. (Also Nesta fans...)

I just don't get why people have this INSISTENCE on what THEY want to happen or how THEY interpret a scene/character rather than what IS happening in the books is that AHA correct one and the rest of the fandom "just doesn't get it?" You don't like the way the story is going? Then stop reading the series.

Stop trying to Frankenstein sentences out of context and fanfiction you've read and confused for canon into a narrative that suits what YOU want to happen.

I get I have bias as well but I only came to that bias BECAUSE OF WHERE THE BOOKS ARE OBVIOUSLY LEADING US. If you have to go back thru a book to find scenes to support what YOU want to happen rather than coming to that conclusion naturally--that should tell you something.

The disregard for canon, the narrative twisting, the sentences out of context, the "well I FEEL", I just don't understand.

There are a BILLION books for the tropes ya'll want yet a portion of this fandom wants to come in and twist THIS book series to get what THEY want when it's readily available somewhere else.

Idk man, I just feel like all this is setting the series up for failure. After 4 years and radio silence, no matter what happens, everyone's gonna be disappointed in one or another and it just makes me sad, frustrated, angry---because this series doesn't deserve people who obviously don't like it to pick it apart and put it back together in their mind to set up for a huge disappointment for themselves cause they didn't like where the books are going.

I know someone's gonna be like "BUT THIS APPLIES FOR ELRIEL TOO" and gentle reader, I'm going to touch your hand when I say this, whether or not Elriel end up together in the end or not, they have clearly been set up to have a story together in some capacity. They have multiple scenes together, other characters have pointed out something weird between them, the bc had a scene where they almost fucked in a hallway--

You don't have to read power point presentations on "ACTUALLY ELRIEL IS CANON CAUSE CASSIAN ORGASMS IS DESCRIBED LIKE MUSIC AND MUSIC IS MATE LANGUAGE" its CLEARLY written on page.

They have canon scenes--other couples do not. Just look at the recent fanart debacle. People HAVE to come up with happy scenes for the other couples because NONE exist in the books for these couples. Elriel's don't have to twist the narrative cause the narrative is there. You don't have to like it, you don't have to ship it, you don't have to think their endgame, but it's there, sorry.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hiiiiiiiii idk if it's been requested before but 2 and 17 from comfort prompts are soooo nathan bateman coded

From this list of Comfort Prompts

Honestly nonnie?? You are so freaking correct.

Warnings: None, this is pure fluff

Prompts: Giving them a shoulder massage when they won’t leave whatever they’re working on; Waking up alone and getting up to urge the other to come back to bed

You know something is wrong the moment you wake up. You're on your back, for one, which is odd for you. You also know for a fact that you drifted off with Nathan cuddled up on the couch with you, but right now, he seems nowhere to be found. You shift under the blanket he must have draped over you, pushing yourself to sit up a little. You listen for a few moments, straining to hear him putting around in the kitchen...The patio...

But no, there's nothing. He must be downstairs.

You're not surprised, of course, but eyeing the time makes you groan. It's nearly three in the morning. There's no way in hell you're going to be able to fall back asleep on the couch—and there's no way that Nathan staying up all night is going to be conducive to the presentation that he has tomorrow.

--

"What the hell could you possibly be doing right now?"

"You should be asleep." His voice is slightly muffled with his back to you, his shoulders hunched as he leans down to jot a note down.

"You better be looking in a mirror as you say that."

"You think I'm that vain?"

"Yeah, Mr. God Complex, I do."

"Go to bed."

"Come with me."

"I'll be there in a minute."

You know better than that. You sigh, sliding your hands over his shoulders and giving them a gentle rub.

"Bullshit."

"More you talk, the more you slow me down—less likely I'll be in bed when you want me to be."

You roll your eyes, sliding your hands back to stroke the back of his neck.

"You have to be cogent tomorrow. You remember that, right?"

"Are you throwing in SAT words to bully me into going to bed?"

"No," You chuckle. "Just making sure you remember what you're meant to be resting up for."

You smooth your thumbs in small, firm circles, smiling as his shoulders relax a bit.

"I have my presentation notes ready."

"Yeah, you do. Because I wrote them for you."

"You want a round of applause?"

"I want you to come to bed with me."

You cuddle a little closer, sliding your hands across his shoulders again as you nuzzle against his temple. You eye the handwriting on his post-its and smile. It's a little sloppy—you know he's more tired than he's letting on.

"...Take your glasses off for a second."

"Honey—"

"One minute."

"It was a second and now it's a minute."

"Please?" You purr it gently against his ear, nails trailing over the swell of his biceps. He pulls in a deep breath before you feel him shift, pulling his glasses off and setting them down on the desk.

"Now what?"

"Relax. That's all." You straighten up, applying a bit more pressure with the heels of your hands. You squint through the glow of his desktop to eye the time—3:02. You're positive the second the time shifts to 3:03 he'll take his glasses up and go back to work. But Nathan leans away from his work, drawing in a deep breath. You grin as his head tips back against you. Your hands slide up to massage his temple, and you grin as his lips part with a soft moan.

You trail your fingers over his cheeks, teasing them through his beard as you lean over him, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. As you lean away, you spot the time—3:04.

"Okay," You sigh as you pull away. "Go ahead."

"What?"

"It's been a minute. More than, actually."

You scrub your hands over his bearded cheeks again before drawing away entirely. "I'm going to bed."

--

You don't hear his footsteps following you in the bedroom, or in the hall as you wait for the elevator. You had been certain that you'd gotten him, but maybe you were wrong. You step onto the elevator, slouching against the wall. It's not the first time you've gone to bed without Nathan, and it won't be the last—

You look up as you hear a thud and eye Nathan's hand stopping the elevator door. You smooth your face into a neutral mask as he steps onto the elevator beside you, leaning back against the wall.

"You drive me crazy," He mutters.

"I know. You need your rest."

"I know."

You let your head loll to the side, smiling as you spot him reaching beneath his glasses to scrub at his eyes.

"Poor sleepy little billionaire."

"I should make you go back and sleep on the couch."

"But you're not going to?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Don't be a dick."

"Alright, c'mon," He nudges you as the door opens, "Get off."

You know it's a mistake to step out as you do, squealing with laughter as he gives your ass a swat when you pass him.

[nvoirs]

Leon's little pet

18+ content. Nsfw warning! Kind of dark content? Leon thinks of !F reader as an object.

--

Poor little you, dirty and grimy from hiding for so long. But you were found non other than Leon himself thankfully.

He found you in one of the now abandoned houses, once belonging to a certain ganando. You tell him you don't know what's wrong with you're village, one day you were out and the next you come back to murder, blood and torture.

Leon looks like he's listening but all he can really think about is that cute little dress you have on, your tits showing a little. You don't have a clue honestly, it makes Leon want to take advantage of you. He'd lick his lips thoughtfully, experimenting by kissing you and you'd kiss back. Because honestly you can admit that this lean, tall, handsome, young man is arousing you with just his hard gaze.

He lets you know everything you want to know. Why are the villagers like this? Are you a spy? Are you going to kill me?

The last one certainly made him chuckle, gripping your face he'd say.

"Now why would I kill a cute, little thing like you?"

That had your heart beating fast, rubbing his hardened cock against your bare leg and then at your clothed cunt. You'd let out a small moan, making him grin ear to ear.

Anytime the ganandos gave Leon a break, he'd also take a quick break by groping your tits or sticking a hand down your dress. His favourite thing to do was finger fuck you to heaven, then pull out when you were about to climax all over his hand. He was such a meanie, but he'd make it up to you by shoving his large cock into your sensitive pussy.

His cock was large. You'd never seen one as big as Leon's, when he saw your eyes widen he'd smirk.

"What are you waiting for princess? I need that warm mouth of yours."

Placing him into your mouth, your throat moulding into the shape of his cock as you began to bob your head. You were struggling to take him as tears pricked your lash line and he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He'd shoot his warm shots of cum down your throat, praising you for your service.

"Fuck such a good girl aren't ya? Can't wait to stretch you out."

And he'd do just that, pinning you against the castle wall, tits squished and back pressed against him. He loved the way your pussy sucked him in, no.. welcomed him as he thrusted so hard you were seeing the fairies. He got you so wet it was tantalizing, you wanted to stay like this forever if it meant you could see Leon's face for eternity. Whispering nothing but down right, vile, filthy things into your perky little ear, as he sloppily fucked you to cloud nine. At this point your legs were shaking, gripping onto the stone wall in front of you. Leon would snake his fingers down to your pearly clit and rub, faster and faster till you'd squirt all over him. Gushing and spasming around his impressive length, and in return he'd stuff you absolutely full. His cum was so creamy and warm, it made your stomach flutter and he'd make sure it stayed in by plugging it with his large fingers.

"Godamn, I wish I had a vibrator on me I'd totally turn you into a squirting mess."

He was you're knight in shining armour, he has rescued you from those now uncivilised people that wanted to rip you to shreds. You just wanted to be his little pet, his little naïve pet that only listened to him.

When you guys met Luis, he joked about Leon taking you back home. God, Luis was a genius. That's exactly what he wanted and will do, he's going to take you back home with him and everyday when he'd come home from work he could just fill you up as he pleased as you sat waiting pretty as a present. All you needed was a lavish pink bow and you were set! He'd decorate your frail body with so many hickeys, neck, thighs, stomach, shoulders you name it! and Leon's already claimed it. And oh he could just cum at the sight of your face in euphoria, and that's exactly what he did over and over again possibly impregnating you this time.

--

Rant post tbh

[justaragdollysblog]

If I hadn’t Gone In- Chapter 2

After the shocking discovery, Ragatha is left empty and lost. Jax recalls when the new girl first arrived.

TW: Infidelity, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive, Mild Panic Attack

——————————————————

Ragatha slumped in her room, sitting on the floor. She was certain that she’d never looked so much like a discarded doll. It was a cruel joke, and it made her laugh slightly through her tears.

She was so extremely heartbroken. A terrible part of her hated him. A terrible part of her wouldn’t be too sad if he found the exit and didn’t come back for her.

She pushed the thoughts away, knowing the sensible, way-too-forgiving part of her didn’t mean that. It didn’t stop any of this from hurting any less, though.

Her breath hitched and shook when she remembered what happened. How long had he been thinking about Marybelle? How long had he been just humoring his own girlfriend?

She gasped and held her chest, feeling the first waves of a panic attack. Her breathing was too frantic and choppy to control, and she couldn’t stop seeing his hands around her waist. His mouth on hers.

She tried to take in bigger amounts of air, but it only made it worse. She let out a strangled sob, moving her hands from her ‘lungs’ and wrapping them around herself in a self soothing gesture.

How could he have done that? What did she do wrong? She’ll be better next time. She has to be better. She’ll do anything to just be-

A knock on the door. “Ragatha? Are you doing okay?”

Ragatha tried to respond, but all that did was cause her breathing to quicken even more. The door opened wide, and Pomni, Zooble, and Gangle stood at its threshold.

Pomni looked a bit surprised, but that quickly gave way to a determined but understanding expression. She nodded to the others, and they slowly filed into Ragatha’s room.

The doll in question was still breathing way too quickly. Pomni approached her, sitting several inches away. “Ragatha? Hey, it’s Pomni. I need you to breathe with me. Can you try that?”

Somewhere deep in Ragatha’s subconscious, she knew Pomni had picked up the techniques that Ragatha used on her. She couldn’t help but feel drawn to the gentleness.

She tried to slow her breathing down, but, again, it didn’t help. Pomni gently took Ragatha’s hand in her own, rubbing a soft circle on the top of it.

“Come on. In and out, okay? Just focus on my voice and my hand on yours. Take however long you need.” Pomni spoke slowly and sweetly, being as gentle as she possibly could to her.

Eventually, her breathing did slow down. Pomni had never gotten impatient or stopped holding her hand. Ragatha sniffled and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry, guys.” Ragatha said through a heavy voice. “I really didn’t mean for you guys to have to do that for me.”

Pomni released her hand and put it on the doll’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Ragatha. You kinda get a pass, considering what just…happened.” Pomni added awkwardly.

Ragatha took another deep breath and smiled a bit. Zooble and Gangle sat on the floor as well, and the geometric shape glanced to an unfinished sewing project on the floor next to them. “What’s that?”

Ragatha looked to where they pointed and picked up a half finished crocheted purple bunny plush. Ragatha adorned a sad smile as she looked it over. “A present. For Jax. He said he likes something to hold at night, and…” Her voice trailed off.

Pomni couldn’t necessarily speak for Zooble and Gangle, but GOD, she was mad. She had seen how much time Ragatha had tried to spend with Jax, and the countless times she defended him to the others. Seeing her like this made her digital blood boil.

“Well, I think I know what we need.” Zooble spoke up suddenly. “Ice cream and a 2000’s chick flick.”

Gangle smiled and clapped her ribbon hands together. “Great idea! Let’s go see if there’s any in the kitchen.” She stood up with Zooble.

“And don’t even try to say you don’t need it, Rags,” Zooble looked pointedly at her. “It’s happening anyways.”

She smiled genuinely. “Thank you, Zooble. It really means a lot.” They nodded, and the two headed out, leaving Pomni and Ragatha alone.

The two talked as they set up blankets and chairs and somehow made the room even more cozy and comfortable. Ragatha couldn’t believe how much better she felt already.

She flopped down on the bed with Pomni, heaving a heavy and content (or at least as much as possible right now) sigh. They returned with a couple tubs of ice cream, and decided on Mean Girls.

It was cozy and quiet, and the sense of companionship was heavy as they watched. Ragatha fell sleep pulling at her mind.

————————————————————

Jax’s room was quiet and cold. SO g*+d@&&m cold.

He lay on his bed, barely even under the covers. Darkness surrounded him, and he contemplated even hugging a pillow to replicate holding Ragatha.

And the absolute worst part? He didn’t have anyone else to blame but himself.

He’d seen some terrible things here. Abstractions, things leading *up* to abstractions, injuries, horrors beyond mortal comprehension, etc.

But nothing compared to the look Ragatha had when she saw the two together.

He had never meant for her to see that. He didn’t even know why he didn’t just push her off at the last minute.

He enjoyed it. He enjoyed the feeling of porcelain against his fur. But now he was absolutely and completely alone.

Ragatha would never take him back. The others, who already hated him, would absolutely loathe him now. All because of some stupid mistake that didn’t even mean anything.

He had never wanted to abstract more than right now. He missed her touch in ways he didn’t even realize he needed.

She was probably blaming herself right now. Zooble was probably telling her how she didn’t need him, and Pomni was probably just insulting him.

He whimpered at these thoughts, deciding on the pillow and holding it to his chest tightly. He would do absolutely anything for her to be laying with him, petting his ears and burying her face in his neck.

But that wasn’t happening. It was never going to happen again.

He had absolutely no one. No one would take his side, or see from his point of view. No one would understand him or like him or even talk to him again.

Now it was his turn to smile sadly down at the pillow he held like it might disappear. He sniffled, voice thick with sadness and longing.

“Goodnight, dollface.”

————————————————————————-

WOOOOO chapter 2 done! i have some plans for chapter 3 that might be a bit…confrontational 👀👀👀

i also want to do more tadc ships than bunnydoll and abstragedy. I’ll still write them! I need prompts for showtime and jesterdoll as well :)))

Reblogs are always appreciated! see you guys next time :)))))

[peterman-spideyparker]

Brief-ish, unsolicited thoughts about the Moon Boys

Not proofread, written on my phone on the fly, posted on the app so if it looks wonky that’s why

Let’s start with our sweet sweet Steven.

He’s such a sweet and doting boyfriend.

Kisses morning, noon, and night.

Steven loves to cook for you. Every dish is exquisite and full of flavor, and packed with love.

At least once a week, you visit him at the museum for lunch. On nice days, you eat lunch on the museum steps. When there’s gloomy London weather, he’ll sneak you into a closed exhibit or the storage room to enjoy some private time.

One thing he loves the most is when you’re at home and you both sit on the couch and read. His hand is always laced with yours, kissing your knuckles and cuddling in close.

In terms of sexy time, I think Steven’s favorite position might be doggy style. Don’t get me wrong, he does enjoy missionary. But doggy style allows him to have a certain kind of control that he lacks at work—and that he sometimes feels that he lacks within the system. He always feels like he has a say in his relationship with you, but doggy style . . . doggy style is control for him. You’re at his mercy on all fours, and how fast you get your pleasure is solely due to his actions.

Sometimes, he’ll mix it up by holding your arms behind your back while he keeps you upright, and other times he’ll push you down so your face is in the pillows and your ass is in the air, acting as his only real focal point.

He’s also been known for a swift spank here and there, but he can’t help it. He really loves your butt.

After, there’s a lot of snuggles. Either big spoon/little spoon where you’re the little spoon and he’s pressing kisses all over your shoulder and neck and wherever else he can reach without moving too much, or if it’s face to face with foreheads resting together, limbs tangled, and the whispering of sweet nothings mixed with kisses, he’s a gentleman through and through when it comes to taking care of you.

And now Marc. This poor man needs all the snuggles.

He didn’t want to date you. Like at all. He would try his best to keep you away, but he always found himself drawn to you.

One day, he bit the bullet and asked you out for some coffee. It’s coffee—what’s the worst that could happen. Famous last words.

By the time you drank half of your drink, he was smitten, and by the end of your respective cups, he knew he was in love.

He waited nearly a week after that date until he texted you.

“She’s not gonna respond, Spector,” he grumbles ten seconds after clicking send, rubbing his hands down his face.

You respond an hour later, and Marc is mortified to look at his phone, but feels like he can breathe again when he reads your message.

“Sorry, I was giving a presentation at work! Dinner sounds great. How about Thursday?”

He’s truly flabbergasted. You said yes.

The night of the date, he gets to the restaurant early, twiddling his thumbs and wringing his hands as he stands across the street, watching if you actually come. Panic washes over him when he sees you get to the restaurant, getting a table for two in the patio area. He knows the second that he crosses the street and sits across from you, he’s done. He’d be yours forever.

Time moves fast while he works up the nerve to cross the street, and he jumps out of his skin when he feels his phone vibrate.

“Hey,” he breathes shakily.

“Hey,” you mimic. “You know, I can see you standing across the street. I have this whole time. Marc, if you didn’t want to—.”

“That’s not it,” he interrupts. He can’t let you think like that. “I’m just . . . It sounds ridiculous.” He lets out a deep breath. “I’m nervous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” you reassure him softly as you turn and look at him in the eyes from across the street. “But I can tell you from many years of experience of being nervous and anxious—the best way to stop being nervous is to just do the thing freaking you out. It has to happen eventually, and if you keep building it up in your head, it’ll only get worse.”

He lets out a shallow breath, hanging up and jogging across the street to you.

When it comes to sex, I feel Marc has two positions he really prefers—missionary, and lotus.

Marc is a man that like control, but he also takes great comfort in predictability, which is what these positions offer for him: they both allow him to be as close as possible to you, he can change little motions in his hips to make it rougher or gentler for you, he can go deep, and most importantly, he can see your face. He can see every last iota of pleasure on your features, he can kiss you over and over, and you ground him, reminding him you’re here with him and that everything is okay.

He always marks up your neck one way or another. Sometimes it’s lingering wet kisses, other times it’s red marks that fade, and more often than not, little purple hickies on the column of your neck that remain for long after the sex has stopped.

You’ve come to find that Marc likes a little pain while you’re being intimate. Not much, but a scratch of your nails through his hair, on his back, or on his arms turns him into putty in your hands.

Cuddles are mandatory aftercare for Marc. You keep him present and remind him that even if he’s feeling low, you’re there for him.

More often than not, it’s face to face cuddles, his head resting on your chest so he can listen to your heart while you play with his curls.

And just like with aftercare cuddles, Marc will always wake up early the next day to make you breakfast in bed. It’s nothing grand—truly, sometimes it’s toaster waffles and a cup of coffee—but you absolutely love it.

Now to Jake.

He’s attracted to you as soon as he meets you, but he chose to stay deep within the headspace until he knew you weren’t gonna leave or hurt Marc or Steven.

He doesn’t stick around for more than fifteen minutes when he does eventually come out, but you’re warm and kind to him.

“You must be Jake,” you hum with a soft smile. “I’m happy to finally meet you.”

Jake just nods, leaning back and drinking his spiked coffee and watching you go about your morning as you read the paper.

One day, Jake is fronting when he comes home after a rough mission. He sees you on the couch, looking lonely and less vibrant and, well, looking less you than you usually do.

He takes off his jacket and hat, putting it on the stand by the door. Jake moves over to where you are on the couch, sitting down next to you, and carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to rest on him.

You both don’t know what to do at first, both stiff and nervous, but when you shimmy down on the couch to get comfortable on him, he breathes a sigh of relief. Jake tilts his head and rests his cheek on the top of your head.

The romance between you two is slow, but it’s strong. And once the fuse is lit, there’s no stopping it.

The first time Jake kisses you, he’s nervous, but as soon as his lips meet yours, he knows with every ounce of his body that you’re the only person outside of the system that he could ever love.

The kiss turns into a make out session, and that make out session results in both of your clothes being shed all over the apartment and you trapped between his body and the mattress.

You two spin around in a litany of positions, but Jake loves it when you’re on top, hands on his chest, riding him like an award-winning equestrian front and back.

His hands grip your hips not to guide you or control you, but as a firm, silent encouragement for your actions.

Jake praises you in Spanish all through your lovemaking, calling you every pet name in the book: “corazón”, “hermosa”, “amore”, and so many others. His fluency and the lit of his pitch goes right to your core, only making the sex more incredible.

After both of you are spent, Jake kisses your cheek and neck, moving to the bathroom to get a cool damp cloth to cool down your burning skin and cleaning you up between your legs.

Jake tosses the towel into the nearby bathroom, somehow getting it to rest and hang over the side of the tub.

He rests on his side as he watches you lie on your back, looking up at him and lacing your fingers together and talking about anything that comes to mind before you fall asleep in his arms.