#or even better they do but they run with it to get more info

[smol-guppy-wuppy]

Another creature feature... say hi to megatron's totally real boyfriend chat!

I still lowkey don't know how to draw robots but fuck it we ball 💪

Info below!

Overall he's just a freak who enjoys having fun at the expense of others. Very obsessed with megatron like that's his boyfriend he just doesn't know it yet ya know <3

He's really good at doing all kinds of tricks and stuff!! Also he's able to extend his limbs to do said tricks :P

He first started out trying to get into the high guard. Though a while into it he ended up flunking in the academy for goofing around too much and being a little too violent.

He then started to get into illegal fighting rings after that right. Doing them solely to make a mockery of whoever it was he was going against because haha hehehe funny stuff!! And that's what he's good at!!!

Eventually he decided to sneak into the gladiator fights to participate in those. And well... He did well at the start, doing what he usually does, even sort of intrigued Megatron himself with his odd method. But his opponent did NOT like being made a fool in front of such a crowd, so they end up getting the upper hand with their better speed and agility. And he ends up getting MESSED UP. In turn then megatron immediately loses interest.

So... Joystick did manage to escape almost getting killed by that bot. And he's fucking pissed that he was the one who lost even though things started out perfectly for him.

Because of this, he decided to get himself fixed, but switched to a sleeker, more lightweight look. This gives him the ability to move around easier, use his opponent's size to his advantage (the bigger they are harder they fall ya know?), and still pack his usual punch.

With this, he went back and challenged the bot he fought originally.

He ended up evading so easily, having the bot running into walls, tripping over themselves, acting more on their anger than strategy, which got everyone in hysterics.

Eventually he did stop with the goofing and absolutely wiped the floor with the bot when he started to fight properly. This whole scene finally fully caught the attention of megatron and he decided to keep more of an eye on him.

Joystick started to frequent the pits, but only more casually, just to cause his usual commotion and get the whole arena to laugh at the misfortune of others.

Megatron finds him to be very entertaining, so he ended up being one of the first choices when it came to gathering decepticons!

But then megatron also learned just how annoying he is... so it's a struggle between "he's really entertaining (and kind of cute) and keeps morale up I should keep him" and "holy fucking shit he does not know how to leave me alone I don't need him I have to kill him NOW"

At the same time, Nobody is allowed to be overly mean to him besides megatron. like no you do not scold or berate him, that's MY job. try again and I'll kill you.

But also joystick will just eat them up without his help by prodding at their every weak point and insecurity and megatron is just like. yeah go off ur so right !!! He's especially mean to starscream.

Starscream did try to kill him several times during the periods it was thought megatron was dead. and he got his ass handed to him the first time he tried doing it directly and failed every indirect method too... After starscream started working with megatron again, well. joystick still makes his life miserable lol

[mgu-h]

this is bit long, sorry just something I noticed:

I noticed with Max F. and Lando, mostly Max, that he always protects Lando's privacy. I mean, that's no secret really, but mid-last year, I watched almost all of Max’s streams from beginning to end, whether Lando was there or not. Maybe only three days in total when I didn’t join his stream.

And I noticed that while, yes, he sometimes tells stories about Lando (I saw some Lando fans criticize him for that because they think he uses Lando for clout, which I think is absurd), it's always stories that Lando would mostly tell himself. It’s never anything scandalous, so I don’t get why anyone would hate Max for it. In a few instances, Lando was even in the chat, encouraging Max to tell a story or show an embarrassing picture of him, but Max never did.

I think Max feels like part of "Team Lando Norris." I mean, he is 100% part of it, but what I mean is that sometimes Bankai will ask if Lando is flying or if he’s home yet, and even Connor asks these questions to Max. And Max sometimes ignores them, even though you can tell he heard them—like, he was talking right before, so it’s noticeable that he just chose not to answer. Which, I mean, is obviously for a reason. But these are also Lando’s friends, and I think they sometimes forget they’re live, and that there are certain people listening who run gossip pages or haters just looking for a reason to hate Lando even more.

Mostly, Max will ignore the question or answer so vaguely that the question isn’t really answered at all. But it’s always obvious that he knows the answer.

Also, whenever it was a race week and Max was streaming the race with Bankai, and Bankai would criticize a driver for a mistake (without insulting them, just pointing it out), Max would kind of try to smooth talk it over for potential fans in the chat. Because he knows people could take it as another reason to hate Lando. Bankai would also ask things like, "Why is Oscar so slow compared to Lando?" and wait to see what Max would say. But most of the time, Max wouldn’t answer, which I find interesting. The only time he really broke that pattern was at the Brazil GP, and even then, he tried so hard to phrase it in a way that wasn’t insulting to any other driver but he was frustrated (understandable).

Yes, some of it is probably to protect himself and, with that, also Quadrant, but it’s so obvious that he does this for Lando. He knows exactly what people would do with these clips. And after the year Lando had, other drivers’ fans would rip Lando to shreds if they felt like someone from Lando’s inner circle had insulted another driver, he is 100% team lando norris.

1000000% to all of that. it reminds me a bit of that last stream from the house in woking, when lando blurted out to chat that max had a girlfriend, making max upset. he very easily could have returned the favor and violated lando's privacy too, you could see it in his eyes, but he explicitly refused to do that to him. it's clearly a huge priority for him to protect lando, and always has been.

there's that joke in his twitch bio 'very professional streamer' but honestly he really is one. he's good at not offending people and keeping his streams interesting without oversharing. he knows he's got the advantage of his connection to lando (it gets people to his streams, who sometimes stick around just for him) but he manages to keep that without exploiting him for content.

it must be an awkward position for him sometimes to have to deny requests for info, to ignore or pivot or whatever else, especially if it comes from mutual friends, who really should know better, but he manages to do it. he's really good at keeping in control of what he says, even in moments of high emotion. his internal 'protect lando' instinct is always operative.

[stoicheincat]

PART 1

Not gonna go over everything discussed in the original post but I want to go over some of it. Also nothing said here is meant to be a attack against any specific creator and is only my experience in the spaces. Want to make sure I specify cuz I'm want to be frank.

On the Normie divide

There isn't more of a marketing issue. Indies don't do a great job of using simple language and pitches to get people interested in games. A consistent issue I see is the use of ttrpg specific acronyms that are hard for those outside the space to understand. Then throw in the algorithms that section people off and new players are mostly pushed away. I think this can be somewhat eased by better marketing with clearer pitches with more visual elements. Tom Bloom's lancer is a good example. It's cool mechs and the art shows it. [Tho the gameplay is less streamlined then a new player would prefer cool art can push people through the bullshit. It get's people excited to play and GMs hyped to run it.] This leads to some common shit that fucks interest from a casual player.

WALLS OF TEXT:

This one is gonna sound hurtful but writers, the novel is not poppin'. This issue can be somewhat smoothish with art but is expensive. When I as a casual player see you bragging about your 200 pg+ Magazine sized book with minimum art it doesn't make me want to read it. Not saying there aren't those who would but if we're going for a general audience then let's make onboarding easier. This can be somewhat eased with a good layout but no guaranteed. We need to think of shorter books with better macro world-building. [Save the micro for extra books focused on it.] Assume that your world's concepts should be the only thing being kept by the GM.

Basically walls of text are a scare for new people. Players latch on to the broad strokes of your world not the specific. [Tho there is a type and it generally becomes the GM. Different books for different players are helpful because it separates info based on need to know.

MECHANICS AS A SELLING POINT

Again targeted more at the writing. Sorry guys. If a more normie audience is the goal. Mechanics probally aren't gonna sell your game and might even harm them. I haven't heard of people that aren't playing ttrpgs ever say how the mechanics was why they wanted to play DND or any other ttrpg. It's usually focused on the setting and then the stories they want to play out. You can do mechanics as a selling point but understand at that point you are going for existing players that have games they like.

LACK OF SETTING VIBE AND OR NOVEL WANNABE

I see this more with artists. The world build is all over the place or incoheret. Basically cool drawings over anything put together. Artist tend to focus on art and often leave out info to make things make sense and even skip writing stuff. I don't know how to express my thoughts on the issue I'm trying to point out but I'll finish it another time if that's all right. Basically artist make unfun mechanics or worlds because they skip writing mechanics. I don't know I need to think this over more when it's not late.

ON INTERNAL CREATOR DIVIDE

Basically people tend to stay away from pushing each others or collabing due mostlish to the reasons bellow.

EGO: Common and we all have atleast a little bit of it.

LACK OF COLLAB EXPERIENCE: Or how it'd work aka contracts, work division, trusted fellow creators, or pay division.

ANTISOCIAL ARTISTIC TENDICIES: I have this one. Basically for some of us most of our creative life has been alone and it's generally just easier.

COMMUNITY VIBES: Basically some spaces can be either to corporate or bad vibes. [Bluesky indie TTRPG creator space gives off corpo networking vibes. I do enjoy people there but it is defo more corpo.]

LIFE RESPONSIBILITIES: Some of us can't really go out of our way to focus on networking due to this being a side thing. [I would like it to be more tho but I'm married with a kid so I got to be smart about how I make that happen.]

Welp I'll make a part 2 when I can but I got shit to do and it's late. Also thanks for tagging me mate.

Let’s Grow the RPG Hobby

Inspired by this post and the conversation surrounding it.

So the RPG world is facing a multitude of interconnected problems. Let’s talk about them, shall we?

---

1: The Problem(s)

Writing this, I find it hard to pinpoint a way to frame the subject of this post as a single thing. But it’s also impossible to treat it as it it’s a collection of separate problems. In reality, the issues facing the indie RPG world are A Hydra; a many-headed conglomeration of related issues, which each require organized, dedicated work to solve. A few examples:

The Normie-Indie Divide

A problem close to my heart, The Normie-Indie Divide describes the gradient between the mainstream of an artistic hobby and the really independent stuff. I compare this to movies a lot, but the more apt analogy is video games. The N-I-D in the videogame industry is so small as to be virtually nonexistent.

We can see this via a number of factors – one example being that the same outlets which cover massive blockbusters & sequels like Assassin’s Creed and God of War, also cover popular indie titles like Celeste and Hollow Knight. Then, freelance journalists who write for those publications (Jacob Geller is an example) go on to cover much smaller games on their own time, and so on. There’s a smooth gradient between the media coverage of the huge stuff, all the way down to a thriving (if still underserved) super-independant industry.

The N-I-D in RPGs feels uncrossable. The most well known RPG is so big it’s currenly riding the high of its second major hollywood adaptation in 20 years, and the second most popular – Vampire the Masquerade – is an unknown even to some indie RPG fans.* This hobby is shockingly impenetrable, even to those of us who spend our days swimming in the deepest end of the pool.

The Supply & Demand Problem

This one’s simple: People are pumping out RPGs by the truckload, and there are just too many! Not only does this make it hard to sift through everything to find the thing you want to read, play, or review, it also makes it nearly impossible to get anyone’s eyeballs on the cool thing you just released!

As others have pointed out, this problem is exacerbated by the fact that relative to some other art media, it’s pretty quick and painless to whip up your own zine or one-pager and publish it on itch. This disincentivises even the most invested of us from looking at a ton of new games, and means that sharing your work can feel like you’re being ignored by a huge crowd.

A Road To Solutions

If all of that is making you feel pretty bad for the future of this medium, you’re not alone. It can feel pretty hopeless facing all of these problems as an indie designer when all the tools you have at your disposal are a tumblr account and a few indie friends to complain to.

But the truth is, I think that this Hydra is eminently slayable. I just don’t think we can do it alone. That in mind, I’ve spent a large portion of my day putting together…

The Call to Action

I think there needs to be organized, persistent effort put into the future of this hobby and this industry, and I think it needs to start the way all good movements do: with a lot of petty, semantic argumentation over definitions and implementation. And to kick things off, here’s my step zero: If you’re reading this post because I’ve tagged you in it (or because I’ve sent you a link to it), my Dms are open. I want to put together a discord group chat† of my peers within RPG tumblr who are invested in tackling The Hydra, such that we can start brainstorming plans of attack to disseminate into the wider community.

The issues I wish to address are these:

The Normie-Indie Divide: How do we go about cultivating a casual audience of indie RPG fans who can bring sustainability and longevity to the industry?

The Supply & Demand Problem: How do we minimize the cognitive load of sorting through the huge volume of work extant in this medium, and more generally encourage peer-to-peer interaction within the community, like news coverage, reviews, and marketing?

The Cognitive Frontload Problem: How do we make it easier to actually engage with a given RPG, considering the amount of cognitive & temporal investment needed? Further, how do we make RPGs, both general and specific, more accessible to readers with a wide variety of abilities, preferences, and available time?

The Insular Community Problem: How do we better connect this hobby with itself, such that it feels a little less like several dozen cliques across 4-6 platforms, and more like the growing, evolving single hobbyist community that it is? Further, how do we make this hobby more accessible to newbies outside the influence of The Hegemons of the Coast?

And more. I’m positive I haven’t thought of everything, and that’s exactly why this needs to be a group effort.

As a last note: Please tag other people! The folks I’ve mentioned here are just those who I personally feel I know well enough to tag; let’s get the rest of the community involved! If you know someone who would be interested who isn’t on tumblr, they can email me: sabrinahawthornegames@proton.me.

*I’m not kidding. Multiple times within the last four months, I’ve introduced VtM to people who I would consider pretty in the sauce of RPGs. I’m talking folks who’ve played Heart: The City Beneath or Wanderhome. It’s bizarre.

†I need to stress that this is only a start. I’m not looking to start a big public discord unless that’s what a group of folks decide is the right call. By “group chat,” I mean “a chat which exists for long enough to hold 1-3 group voice calls to discuss and hash things out, before it’s dissolved in favor of the execution of whatever plans we devise.”

@theresattrpgforthat; @omophagic-beast; @ladytabletop; @rowansender; @monsterfactoryfanfic; @arsene-inc; @toyourstations

[krispyphan]

Danny phantom idea where he gets summoned to dc by a cult, but the bat fam had already defeated the cult before the spell could work.

Until one of them accidentally starts it, leading to Danny thinking the cult that summoned him is the bat fam.

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

that moment when: everyone's lives are restricted and constricted and these imposed consequences are attributed to anyone's continual individual failures to seek, find, and follow the Correct Path through Life, and so everyone is left on their own to only be seeking & finding these failures as well as the only answer to how their lives can be better....versus Not seeing the world as the free marketplace meritocracy of everyone's personal failures/successes, nor everything in your own life, and thus not forever having to scrutinize Where You Must Be Bringing It Upon Yourself by fucking up or at least failing to do the correct thing, and exist only in perpetual punishment for your ongoing failure and occasional temporary reprieves from it. recognizing everything that wasn't & isn't & wouldn't be [this is because you're bringing it upon yourself] and thus having more capacity & capability to look at the realm of your personal individual self, reality, experiences, life through the perpetual instances of seeking, finding, and following your own needs/wants through one's inherent personhood and exercises of autonomy and recognition of where & when & how one recognizes moments of their existing freely & in more resonant genuine alignment with themself, you know? endless examples to be found in endless fractals of [where & how are people's lives made smaller]. and that of course this doesn't preclude the ability/option at any time to question one's choices, since you'll be able to find more Actual choices available to you (and, also crucially, find more actual choices made by others that are in the pursuit of limiting Yours) to look at, and people getting to exercise their autonomy isn't the same as "everyone doing anything they want regardless of how it affects others" since that [how does it affect others?] element instead being Regarded would be able to lead to recognizing that, in fact, an effect might be the infringement on others' autonomy, hence: There's A Problem....like the ability to just go ham with [questioning???] anything in existence, certainly including oneself, b/c the "norm" is such that rather you're only supposed to be able to question yourself for your failings (or those positioned as less than, thus, beneath you) and not even have the language to express a questioning of aspects of life beyond that b/c stop calling anyone "cis" they're just Normal, Just Be Normal and it would all be fine

[nexus-nebulae]

well. we were going to try out some new New Member Protocols with this new guy but. whoops! speedran it anyways,

[snekdood]

im not gonna say you cant use the n word w a hard r on a almost fully anonymous tumblr account where you claim to be black-

I will say that it makes you 100% more suspicious and worth keeping an eye out on you bc usually its neo nazis pretending to be black that spam saying the n word w an r and use tumblrs weird trust for almost fully anonymous accounts to their advantage to get away w it

you can say it, but, if you Are a neo nazi pretending to be black, I will say, you're not doing a good job of convincing me rn that you actually are.

[genericpuff]

Tbh at this point you should just make your own webcomic app/website because it would probably be 100 times better than whatever going on with webtoon right now.

hahaha it wouldn't tho, sorry 💀

Here's the fundamental issue with webcomic platforms that a lot of people just don't realize (and why they're so difficult to run successfully):

Storage costs are incredibly expensive, it's why so many sites have limitations on file sizes / page sizes / etc. because all of those images and site info have to be stored somewhere, which costs $$$.

Maintenance costs are expensive and get more so as you grow, you need people who are capable of fixing bugs ASAP and managing the servers and site itself

Financially speaking, webcomics are in a state of high supply, low demand. Loads of artists are willing to create their passion projects, but getting people to read them and pay for them is a whole other issue. Demand is high in the general sense that once people get attached to a webtoon they'll demand more, but many people aren't actually willing to go looking for new stuff to read and depend more on what sites feed them (and what they already like). There are a lot of comics to go around and thus a lot of competition with a limited audience of people willing to actually pay for them.

Trying to build a new platform from the ground up is incredibly difficult and a majority of sites fail within their first year. Not only do you have to convince artists to take a chance on your platform, you have to convince readers to come. Readers won't come if there isn't work on the platform to read, but artists won't come if they don't think the site will be worth it due to low traffic numbers. This is why the artists with large followings who are willing to take chances on the smaller sites are crucial, but that's only if you can convince them to use the site in favor of (or alongside) whatever platform they're using already where the majority of their audience lies. For many creators it's just not worth the time, energy, or risk.

Even if you find short-term success, in the long-term there are always going to be profit margins to maintain. The more users you pull in, the more storage is used by incoming artists, the more you have to spend on storage and server maintenance costs, and that means either taking the risk at crowdfunding (ex. ComicFury) or having to resort to outsider investments (ex. Tapas). Look at SmackJeeves, it used to be a titan in the independent webcomic hosting community, until it folded over to a buyout by NHN and then was pretty much immediately shuttered due to NHN basically turning it into a manwha scanlation site and driving away its entire userbase. And if you don't get bought out and try your hand at crowdfunding, you may just wind up living on a lifeline that could cut out at any moment, like what happened to Inkblazers (fun fact, the death of Inkblazers was what kicked off the cultural shift in Tapas around 2015-16 when all of IB's users migrated over and brought their work with them which was more aimed towards the BL and romancee drama community, rather than the comedy / gag-a-day culture that Tapas had made itself known for... now you deadass can't tell Tapas apart from a lot of scanlation sites because it got bought out by Kakao and kept putting all of its eggs into the isekai/romance drama basket.)

Right now the mindset in which artists and readers are operating is that they're trying way, way too hard to find a "one size fits all" site. Readers want a place where they can find all their favorite webtoons without much effort, artists wants a place where they can post to an audience of thousands, and both sides want a community that will feel tight-knit. But the reality is that you can't really have all three of those things, not on one site. Something always winds up having to be sacrificed - if a site grows big enough, it'll have to start seeking more funding while also cutting costs which will result in features becoming paywall'd, intrusive ads, creators losing their freedom, and/or outsider support which often results in the platform losing its core identity and alienating its tight-knit community.

If I had to describe what I'm talking about in a "pick one" graphic, it would look something like this:

(*note: this is mostly based on my own observations from using all of these sites at some point or another, they're not necessarily entirely accurate to the statistical performance of each site, I can only glean so much from experience and traffic trackers LMAO that said I did ask some comic pals for input and they were very helpful in helping me adjust it with their own takes <3).

The homogenization of the Internet has really whipped people into submission for the "big sites" that offer "everything", but that's never been the Internet, it relies on being multi-faceted and offering different spaces for different purposes. And we're seeing that ideology falter through the enshittification of sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. where users are at odds with the platforms because the platforms are gutting features in an attempt to satisfy shareholders whom without the platforms would not exist. Like, most of us aren't paying money to use social media sites / comic platform sites, so where else are they gonna make the necessary funds to keep these sites running? Selling ad space and locking features behind paywalls.

And this is especially true for a lot of budding sites that don't have the audience to support them via crowdfunding but also don't have the leverage to ask for investments - so unless they get really REALLY lucky in EITHER of those departments, they're gonna be operating at a loss, and even once they do achieve either of those things there are gonna be issues in the site's longevity, whether it be dying from lack of growing crowdfunding support or dying from shareholder meddling.

So what can we do?

We can learn how to take our independence back. We don't have to stop using these big platforms altogether as they do have things to offer in their own way, particularly their large audience sizes and dipping into other demographics that might not be reachable from certain sites - but we gotta learn that no single site is going to satisfy every wish we have and we have to be willing to learn the skills necessary to running our own spaces again. Pick up HTML/CSS, get to know other people who know HTML/CSS if you can't grasp it (it's me, I can't grasp it LOL), be willing to take a chance on those "smaller sites" and don't write them off entirely as spaces that can be beneficial to you just because they don't have large numbers or because they don't offer rewards programs. And if you have a really polished piece of work in your hands, look into agencies and publishing houses that specialize in indie comics / graphic novels, don't settle for the first Originals contract that gets sent your way.

For the last decade corporations have been convincing us that our worth is tied to the eyes we can bring to them. Instead of serving ourselves, we've begun serving the big guys, insisting that it has to be worth something eventually and that it'll "payoff" simply by the virtue of gambler's fallacy. Ask yourself what site is right for you and your work rather than asking yourself if your work is good enough for them. Most of us are broke trying to make it work on these sites anyways, may as well be broke and fulfilled by posting in places that actually suit us and our work if we can. Don't define your success by what sites like Webtoons are enforcing - that definition only benefits them, not you.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[bunnis-monsters]

I hope I'm not too late! For the 5K event (congratulations btw!!! You deserve all of them ^^), could my request be of a merman pod finding reader and deciding she needs to be their mate/breeding partner? I guess it'd be kind of a similar situation with the cow/bull hybrids?? I'm not sure how it'd go, but It can be as sfw or nsfw as you want (I deeply apologize if this exceeds 1k words. Of course you don't have to write this if you don't want to). Thank you in advance! ^^

A/N: my requests and commissions are closed for the foreseeable future, but my commission wait list is open! Consider reading my commission info and helping me out! Slots are limited, so get on the waitlist while you still can~

Warning: dubcon, breeding, virginity loss

It had been a normal day out on the water for you, swimming and splashing around in a small cove near your home.

Unfortunately(or maybe fortunately) for you, it was the spot where a pod of mermen spent their breeding season, relaxing and eating there before going out to try and find a suitable mate.

As you got ready to get out and go grab a snack from your cooler, you felt someone’s eyes on you…

When you turned to look, a head quickly dipped back under the water, and you felt your blood run cold when you spotted several dark shapes swimming in your direction.

Of course you immediately swam for the shore, afraid of it being a shark or some underwater predator. You were alone out there, and if you were eaten no one would ever even know.

Before you could stand to start wading through the now waist deep water, something grabbed your ankle, pulling you under.

You cursed yourself for not bringing your goggles, unable to open your eyes under the stinging, salty sea water.

You prepared for some kind of attack, hoping it wouldn’t be too painful… but nothing happened. Your body was gently lifted out of the water, and you felt something cool and smooth rubbing against your cheek… and your belly… and pretty much every part of your skin.

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see that you were surrounded by strange creatures, half human and half fish. They all were nuzzling their cheeks unto your flesh, some giving you soft licks as if inspecting you.

After thoroughly looking over you, they all began purring and trilling, some cooing as they set you on your feet. Getting a better look at them, you realized they were all handsome, and were all smiling as they surrounded you.

“A female in our cove? What luck!”

You were surprised when one of the creatures spoke, even more surprised when another responded with soft trills and clicks.

“Yes, she is quite warm… and so soft!”

The feeling of cool scales rubbing against your thigh made you yelp. One of their tails was curling around you, keeping you close and still.

“H-hey! What do you think you’re doing!?”

They all flinched when you raised your voice, their fins perking up. Some looked at you curiously, while some seemed a bit annoyed or afraid.

“Mmm? We’re preparing to breed with you. It’s not often a female is so close to our cove while it’s mating season.”

You nearly fainted, this was all too much. First you were having to accept the fact that mermen were real, which was hard enough by itself.

Now, these mermen that you just learned actually existed wanted to breed with you.

Another merman pressed against your back, letting out a soft coo as something sticky and hard slipped and rubbed between your thighs.

There was one in front of you as your thighs were fucked from behind. He examined your bathing suit, talking his head and pulling at the fabric curiously.

“Something to cover your mating slit? Perhaps human females are more cunning than I thought…”

He seemed to view the fabric as a separate layer of skin, his weighed fingers moving to trace over your clothed pussy.

The merman’s eyes went wide, and his finge red pressed against your clothed hole. “Warm… so warm…”

The feeling of his cool, webbed fingers moving over your warm pussy made you shiver and buck your hips uncontrollably. This made the merman purr in delight.

“Y-you can remove it… it’s clothing,” you said, panting softly. Honestly, it had been so long since you’ve really pleasured yourself, and you desperately wanted to get fucked stupid.

Your bathing suit was unceremoniously ripped off, and the pod gathered around you.

There were whines and hisses, each merman fighting over who got to breed you first.

It was finally settled that they would go from smallest to largest. A merman, a bit younger than the rest approached you shyly. He was excited, this would be his first time breeding!

He chirped at you, giving you puppy dog eyes as his cock bobbed up and down in need. It seemed this one couldn’t speak, possibly being new to human speech.

“Go on, just inhale her scent and your instincts will take over,” one of the merman said, encouraging the other as he placed a hand on your thigh.

His face buried itself in his neck, and as soon as he inhaled your scent his body stiffened and pressed against you.

The feeling of his cock struggling to find your hole, rubbing against you desperately made your heart throb. This merman was too cute!

You loved your hand down, the man letting out a nervous yet aroused trill when you helped to guide his cock to your entrance.

“There you go, baby… r-right there…”

He nuzzled his cheek against yours, the flesh slightly rough against your soft skin.

The second he sunk his cock into your cunt, he let out a groan, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you roughly.

You but your lip, trying not to make too much noise. The other merman moved in closer to watch, and they all seemed to communicate with the one mating with you.

“Warm? You said she’s warm there?”

“Oh… cum already, I want a turn!”

The first merman came, relaxing against you as your pussy was filled with his cum. The next was eager to get a feeling of your pussy, pushing the other out of the way before pushing in.

“Nngh… w-warm…” he gasped out, his body hands trembling as they grasped your plump hips.

None of them were used to fucking into something so soft and warm, mermaid were usually cold and rough… but god you were the complete opposite.

It was a breeding frenzy after that, each desperate to get their turn fucking that fat, warm pussy of yours. The sound of wet squelching and shameful moans and cries echoing through the cove.

After each had a turn, they returned you to the shore, leaving you with a freshly caught fish before they left to go hunt.

“We’ll be back by nightfall, mate!”

“Don’t enter the water until we’re home! We don’t want our scents attracting other competing males!”

They waved to you as they swam away… and you were looking forward the summer with your new pod of mates.

part 2? might make a little series based off this concept where you meet each merman and get to know them!

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[pomefioredove]

😭😭 Please make more hcs of yuu's admiration club plss it's so cute and I ended up reading it so fast 💔💔 feel free to delete or not reply!<3

original post (riddle, leona, azul, vil)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yuu Admirer Club! 2

type of post: headcanons characters: jamil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, ortho's part is strictly platonic

Kalim has never been one to ask for permission

Jamil's whole life at school is centered around adapting to Kalim's chaos

but this isn't chaotic

it's... quiet. too quiet

it takes him all of ten minutes to realize Kalim isn't in the dorm

of course, Jamil has his suspicions...

he's had his own little fantasies about running away with you

I mean WHAT who said that

as much as he'd like to enjoy the peace and quiet for once,

he knows he'll get in trouble if anything happens

and knowing Kalim, something will happen

so, now, he's standing in Ramshackle's foyer, arms crossed

"what are you doing?"

Kalim is sitting on the floor, weaving friendship bracelets

"oh, I'm gonna stay here. I like it. look, I made you one, too!"

"you cannot stay at another dorm, you are the housew-"

hmmmm... wait a second

Jamil's whole disposition changes, and he smiles all big

"you know what? you deserve a break. I'll just take care of things at Scarabia while you're gone,"

he turns to you "keep him away from open flame."

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia knows better than to worry when Ortho goes off on his own

I mean... he still does, but he knows not to

it's just a few hours... just a few hours...

but it's getting dark now, and Ortho's been radio-silent

completely blipped off the map...

Idia slips into his computer chair and starts going through the security cam feed

courtyard is empty, classrooms are dark, even the- what's that?

a familiar electric blue glow is coming from...

he switches between cams to get a good look

and it's Ortho... and you

having some kind of mock tea party with empty cups. some stuffed animals, a few other first years, even Grim is there...

Idia snorts

but... the more he thinks about it...

no. no, he cannot be jealous of his little brother playing toys with the prefect

that would be pathetic. even for him...

still, he can't help but envy Ortho's social skills

maybe, if he could actually talk to you, his yuu admiring club wouldn't have to be an account he secretly runs and folder on his computer...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it's unusually quiet in Diasomnia tonight

usually, Malleus would enjoy the stillness of the evening, but there's something quite eerie about it now

"Lilia... have you any idea of where Silver and Sebek are?"

the vice housewarden, upside-down, shrugs

how strange... Malleus cannot recall a time where Sebek has left him alone for more than a few hours

it's... worrying

of course, he goes to you first

not out of suspicion, but because few others could give him a coherent answer while trembling with fear

when you open Ramshackle's door, there you are... and there's Silver... and Sebek...

both asleep in the foyer behind you

what a sight

you explain that some of the boys had started a "Yuu Admirer Club" and surprised you with an impromptu meeting

a sour look crosses Malleus' face

"don't be mad at them, it's my fault. I didn't have the heart to wake them," you say.

"oh, I'm not upset that they've decided to spend their time with you. I understand completely. I am, however, a little upset that I was not invited to this "Yuu Admirer Club"."

[bunni-v1]

Lighter NSFW Headcannons

🍓Hello lovelies! I managed to get this done. I do apologize if it feels rushed or anything near the end. It was getting so long, and I didn't want to write so much I had nothing else to talk about. I hope you enjoy it regardless! Love you all <3

TW: Nsfw (duh); Rough sex (alluded to)

Info: Lighter x Reader; NSFW

-There’s a lot of contention on whether or not Lighter is a virgin, and as much as I love the idea of sloppy awkward virgin Lighter… there’s just no fucking way. Look at him.

-He fucked around a lot when he was younger, it just kind of lines up with that cocky, overconfident leader vibe he alludes to a lot. Sure, he’s more responsible than most others, but I can’t imagine a world in which he hadn’t messed around at least a little.

-All that to say, he hasn’t had sex in a really long time. Like, the last time he was with anyone was before entering the underground fighting ring. It's been a minute for our poor old sap.

-It’s not like he really has much want for sex either. After joining the Sons of Calydon he didn’t trust anyone enough to handle him in such a vulnerable state, and there’s not anyone he’d want to sleep with around anyway. (Certainly not any of the girls, they’re too much like family for that.)

-He isn’t one for one-night stands much, they make him feel like he’s nothing more than his body. If he’s going to share such vulnerable parts of himself, he’d like to have some kind of emotional connection. Friends with benefits are better, but he also doesn’t like complicating his personal relationships like that, so he just doesn’t have sex.

-He masturbates plenty for sure though, usually to some kind of low-budget porno. If he’s feeling pent up and he can’t take it out in the ring, he’ll just use his hands a different way to help himself out.

-And then there was you.

-Sweet little you, who Lighter just couldn’t get out of his head. He hated how much his mind would drift to you when he was just trying to relieve himself. 

-He tried so hard to focus on the shitty porno he was running, something about step-siblings – he wasn’t really thinking too hard about it. But then, the image of you and him pops into his head. It’s innocent to start, just thinking about your pretty lips and that damned smile, but his mind just keeps drifting.

-What noises would you make? Would you be quiet or loud? He’d like it if you were loud. Can you even bend like that? Would you try for him? What would you look like sucking his dick? Could you take all of him in one go, or would he have to slip it in inch by inch while you adjust?

-It’s like a parasite he can’t quite get out of his head, whispering all the horribly indecent thoughts about you, making him so desperate for your touch all the time.

-That’s before you’re even together, it only gets worse after you finally make things official with him. 

-Before he felt shameful, you were just a friend and he was totally disrespecting you, but now that you’re together? Now that he’s allowed to find you attractive, now that he knows how you feel in his hands and how you taste on his lips he’s done for.

-He’s awful respectful of you and your space, and he really does want to take things slow, but Christ you don’t know what you do to him. Or maybe you do, and you’re torturing him on purpose because you like to see him squirm when you jut your little lip out in a pout.

-Your first time with him is sloppy, as most first times are. He just can’t contain himself.

-You’re sitting on his lap, shirt, and pants long since forgotten in some corner of the room, working your sinful little mouth over his. He can’t help but grab at the fat of your hips, dragging you over his painfully hard erection. 

-The feeling is way better than he’d ever imagined, much nicer than his hand, and way better than those stupid pornos – had sex always felt this good, or are you some kind of secret god? It doesn’t occur to him that, maybe, going so hard might be enough to make him cum until it’s way too late.

-He creams his pants about five minutes into your little grind session.

-It’s so, so embarrassing for him. He’s usually so well-composed, and it’s not like he didn’t have the stamina. It was just… overwhelming to finally get to have you exactly how he wanted to have you for so long. And… he totally ruined it.

-He looks like a kicked puppy. He’s not saying anything but you can tell he’s beating himself up over it, so you have to hold his face in your hands and coo at him and assure him that everything is okay. That it’s a compliment, that you love him. 

-He has a hard time believing it until you slide down and help him clean up, and suddenly it's not so bad anymore – not with the way your mouth is working around him with such ease.

-So, sure, your first time together doesn’t exactly go as planned, but that’s just one time. What else does Lighter have in store for you?

-Firstly, Lighter is definitely a switch, though he heavily prefers topping. Specifically, he’s a service top. Everything he does is to make you feel good, even when he’s being rough and brutal, it’s because that’s what you want from him. 

-He likes to take his time with you, to really feel you beneath him. His hands are calloused and big and they trace over your flesh like they’re worshipping you. Committing every inch they can reach to memory, like if he doesn’t he will forget the feeling.

-It’s damn near overstimulating with how much he drags those rough fingers along your ribcage, but it’s so incredibly heavenly as well. 

-His lips always follow in his finger's wake, pressing across each mapped inch like markers for when he wants to come back up. 

-He mumbles sweet praises into every single curve and divot, “Beautiful,” “Perfect,” “Mine.” Like a man possessed, he nearly forgets that other goals must be achieved, right up until he’s just above your most sensitive parts.

-When he gets there he breathes in, deeply, and then he plunges right in, and dear god he’s amazing with his mouth. His fingers too.

-It feels like he’s trying to consume you, the way his lips cup around you – sucking as if his life depended on it. His fingers will happily busy themselves by playing with whatever part of you isn’t already in his mouth, occasionally swapping the two to keep you on your toes.

-If you think that’s nice, you should also know that he keeps his eyes on you the whole time he’s doing it too and just watching your expressions, enjoying having all of his senses filled with nothing but you. 

-You have to cum with his mouth or fingers (or both) at least once. Not because of his ego (though it definitely grows when he feels you clenching around his annoyingly deft tongue), but because he is big and no matter how many times you take him, there is always quite the stretch. 

-Speaking of how big he is, he’s certainly much larger than average. I’m thinking much closer to seven and a half inches, with a similar girth fully erect. He’s a grower, not a shower.

-And goodness is it nice to look at. There are two prominent veins, one running along the bottom of his shaft and another on the side that stops about halfway up. The tip is always blushed and angry red, and the shaft itself is slightly darker than the rest of his skin, but it’s awful pretty.

-He keeps himself pretty well groomed, though there is hair there, it won’t irritate you when you’re giving him head. It’s just something so that he doesn’t feel bald down there.

-He prefers it when you give rather than receive, though he enjoys taking care of you like that very much. It’s just that you look so cute trying to swallow down all of him. You can never quite get him down, he’s just way too big even with plenty of training, but you always try so hard. The tears pricking your lashes and the redness of your cheeks are intoxicating.

-He’ll give you the sweetest smile as he watches you struggle to swallow him down, hands wound in your hair guiding you to take just a little more. “You can do it, baby. Go on, just a little more… good job.”

-Unfortunately, he isn’t much of a noisemaker, though he’ll give you more than a few groans when you do something particularly nice. He’s more of a talker.

-He loves to just talk you through what you’re doing, praises and hums of approval rumbling out of his chest. His voice is much deeper and more gruff than you’re used to, but it's heavenly hearing him mutter out a deep “Oh fuck,” when you run your tongue right along that vein.

-Once both of you are nice and ready, you all loosened up for him, and he’s got the condom and the lube applied he finally lines himself up. 

-He teases you with the swollen head of his dick a few times, rubbing it around the rim of your desperate little home, then finally he pushes himself in. Just the tip, because even that is such a stretch for your poor little hole.

-It’s not so bad with the way his calloused fingers play with the sensitive skin right above where you’re connected. It’s like a reward for taking him so well, even though it hurts. 

-Again, he purrs out his praise, “Good job, baby. You’re taking me so well, just a little more… that's it. Keep sucking me in like that.”

-He inches himself so nice and slow, giving you all the time in the world to adjust. His hands soothing over your thighs until you’ve finally swallowed him whole. Then, he leans down, intertwining your fingers with his, and carefully pulls himself out.

-He’ll always start slow unless he’s feeling jealous or neglected, and he always holds your hand. He wants you to know that he still loves you, even in such an intimate moment where he could easily lose himself, he reminds you that you are his everything.

-He isn’t always soft, though. He wants to be soft and loving and gentle, but Lighter is very easy to rile up if you know what you’re doing.

-As I mentioned, jealous and needy sex happens, and it’s rough. He’s staking his claim on you, making sure to leave bruises and bites that will last the rest of the week. If you’re not giving him the attention he feels he needs, he’ll pull you aside and make you give it to him.

-When he’s feeling like that, he loves to hear you moan, and he’ll outright tell you to do so. If you don’t he will shove his fingers in your mouth and force you to make them.

-Something else that’ll really get him going is roughhousing. Regardless of if you’re legitimately boxing with him or if it’s just playful stuff on the couch, it really gets him fired up. 

-As shameful as it is he loves putting you in your place. Something about the way you desperately hit at him, the way your skin gets sweaty and flushed, it all just does something to his brain. You always end up with your legs tossed over his shoulders.

-He likes knowing how much stronger he is than you, not that it isn’t obvious. So he loves to manhandle you whenever he gets the chance. The way you give him all the power in the world to move you around is heaven to him.

-Ah, but his favorite sex is the kind you have on his bike. He loves to see you in nothing but his jacket and his scarf bent over the seat of his bike, just waiting for him to take advantage of you.

-He’ll drive you out to some quiet corner of the outback and absolutely fuck your brains out. 

-Maybe this one is a bit odd, but he likes to have you sit on his bike in just your underwear and rev the engine just to see you squirm. It’s never enough to make you cum, but it sure does feel fantastic, especially with how he presses himself up behind you and purrs praise in your ears.

-To him, it really is all about how you’re feeling. He’s happy so long as you cum, and if you want to help him along, even better.

-Help him if you ever suggest letting him cum inside, it might actually make his head explode. It’s not like he has a breeding kink or anything, but it’s the fact that you’d trust him enough to do something like that.

-To be real about it, that’s what sex is about to him. Trust. It’s a symbol of all the love and admiration you have for each other. It’s so intimate and such a difficult thing to share with you, so despite all the rough treatment and kinks and everything in between, sex is just another way that Lighter shows you he loves you.

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”