#scott is the hot girl though

[zuckergussprinzessin]

Teen wolf movie is apparently a complete shitshow comparable to their wildest plots so ? Not sure, it prompted a lot of new fix it fics 😂 also depends where you stood on some of the ships

I mean I didn't watch that show cause it was good so

[koschei-the-ginger]

Scott Bakula's filmography pt2

Color of night (1994) - did nobody tell him this was supposed to be a "serious" erotic thriller or was he intentionally acting silly bc he'd known it would be dogshit?

A passion to kill (1994) - literally THREE MONTHS LATER they released almost the SAME MOVIE but this time it wasn't Bruce Willis but him and his real life gf who got to film all those painstainkigly long sex scenes. Literally what??

Dream On (1994) - idk what show is this but I hate it

Nowhere to Hide (1994) - lmao cheap tv movies really have the best plot twists *chefs kiss*

Mi familia (1995) - who else could play a catholic priest that fucks

Lord of Illusions (1995) - is it good? hmmm. but is it absolutely cuckoo bananas? yes.

The Invaders (1995) - I have visions and I know what the aliens are up to - it's because of your autism. -is it because of my autism?

Murphy Brown (1993-1996) - oh god he has a permed mullet

Here Comes the Son (1996) - well, he paid himself and his wife to hang out

Mr & Mrs Smith (1996-1997) - young timothy olymphant???

Major league - back to the minors (1998) - where's charlie sheen

Netforce (1999) - I miss old scifi shows where the biggest threat is someone blowing up the internet

Mean Streak (1999) - "I'm not a racist, I'm dating you, a puertorican" and "I don't hate black people, just puertoricans" and "I hate black people, there's too many of them" and ....

American Beauty (1999) - oh I totally forgot he was in this

ok part 3 will be the last one I'm only gonna get to Start trek and then go watch something actually good for once

[selfcarecap]

✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink

warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross 

This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)

Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first. 

What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.

But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this. 

He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.

Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.  

Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly. 

But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.

And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible. 

He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”

You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”

And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.

He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”. 

“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.

 “And you don’t touch yourself?”

You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.” 

Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?” 

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.

“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”

Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.” 

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” 

He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM. 

“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”. 

You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. 

You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.

He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his. 

You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches. 

He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead. 

He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are. 

He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length. 

He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed. 

He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does. 

It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you. 

-

You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection. 

He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside. 

It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers. 

“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making. 

“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips. 

“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin. 

“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that. 

-

It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably. 

He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all. 

But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out. 

You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”

He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.

 “I can be anything you like, bub.” 

You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.” 

He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you. 

It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.

Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile. 

“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants. 

“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.” 

You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun. 

“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve. 

“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?” 

“Not at all, don’t worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, bub.” 

You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket. 

“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.

You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.

“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him. 

But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.

He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.

“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.

And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.

“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.

He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?” 

You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.

He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.

-

Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day. 

Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.

He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.

You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.

Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.

“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.

“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”

He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”

And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”

He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.

And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”

“If you’re really sure?” 

You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”

And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”. 

You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”

“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”

You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”. 

Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?” 

You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason. 

You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.

And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.

“You wanna see?”

You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure. 

You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.

“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.

“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.

He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.

“Does it feel good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”

You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.

Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.

“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.

“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.

-

It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.

You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.

 “I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?” 

Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it. 

He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.

“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.

You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.

“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”

You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.

“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.

His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.

“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.

He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.

“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.

“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.

Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.

But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.

“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.

He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.

“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.

“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.

“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.

You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.

You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.

“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.

You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.

-

✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—just the peak of old-school Hollywood sexuality. The glam, the suits, the gentle wit, the acrobatics, those eyes that always looked like they knew exactly what movie they were in and were laughing at the joke...

Vincent Price (Laura, Leave Her to Heaven, House on Haunted Hill, The Masque of the Red Death)—svelte, stylish, horrifying, beautiful, wickedly funny, camp and gorgeous and evil. he was an art connoisseur who advocated passionately indigenous art, he was an actual literal gourmet cook, he was so liberal he got greylisted during the mccarthy era for being too rad, he's my favorite muppets guest of all time

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vincent Price propaganda:

Submitted: this fancam

Submitted: this entire Tumblr page

Cary Grant propaganda:

"My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it."

The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"

last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.

[sweetimpurity]

Older Neighbor Miguel Part 3 NSFW!!

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: w.c. is 2.5k and it's longer than I thought it would be but I'm gagged and obsessed. Hope you like it! Might just tease you guys a little longer <3

The sun shines through the window, golden hues cascading over the blankets, your legs on the bed, the soft pillows warm after bathing in the light. It’s morning. It’s been a few days and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that dream. It’s ingrained in your mind, the feeling of him, his voice, the look in his eyes. It almost makes the embarrassment of being seen half naked melt away. You’re almost glad it happened. It felt so real, making your thighs squeeze together at the memory. You head downstairs to start the morning, finding your parents at the kitchen table.

“Morning…” You smile softly, greeting them, walking over to the kitchen counter. Glancing out the window, at his yard. His house. Seeing if any of the windows are open, if he’s outside. Just a glimpse of him would get you hot. “Oh, honey…” Your mom starts, walking to the sink and putting her plate down. “I hope you don’t mind but I volunteered you to do some babysitting. Would you be up for it tomorrow, 3 to 8?” She asks kindly. You’ve babysat a lot of kids in the neighborhood since high school and your mom is close to a lot of the parents around. Figuring maybe it’s the Scott family again down the street since they have so many kids; always needing childcare. “Yeah I can do it. I’ll text Lisa and tell her I will.” You nod, taking a sip of orange juice and looking over at the breakfast your dad’s made. “Oh, it’s not the Scott’s, it’s Gabriella next door… O’hara?” She asks and you choke on the juice in your mouth, almost spitting it out. Your dad instantly asks if you’re okay when you suddenly start choking like an idiot. “Yeah- no yeah I’m fine-” You cough over the sink, eyes wide, clearing your throat, your mind spinning, heart thumping. 

“Miguel has a late meeting that day and I offered for you to help him out. And he said he’ll pay.” She says, but you can’t handle this. You wonder how he feels about that. He didn’t outright ask for your help but seems like he didn’t refuse it either. He’ll pay? What the hell is going on? “Uh… yeah. I can do it.” You say, feeling a bit nervous about it but also weirdly excited. To see him. To be near him. Gabriella is also a really sweet girl so you know watching her for a few hours will be a breeze. 

Your parents leave for their respective duties, leaving you at home. And all you can do is think about him. The dream you had. It’s embarrassing now, since he probably just thinks you’re a weirdo who walks around in her underwear. He probably got second hand embarrassment. You should be dreading seeing him again. But you can’t help but crave it. Crave him. 

…

“Shit.” He had muttered after talking to your mom across the fence. When she elected you to babysit his daughter after he mentioned in passing not having anyone to watch her after school tomorrow and his ex is out of town. He should have said no, to spare you both the embarrassment. He almost had a hard time looking your mother in the eye when she said it. Knowing he’d had a dream about fucking you nights before. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, although they keep happening. You’re so pretty and young, fresh out of college and he feels like a creep for seeing you in your underwear like that. Even if it was an accident. What will you think? 

He can’t help but feel this tension across the fence. Like there's an electric current from your house to his, even though the two of you haven’t even seen each other since the incident. Maybe he’s imagining it. You’d probably never feel the same way. “What…?” He mutters, looking down at the mail he’s been absentmindedly sorting while he’s thinking all of this over. This isn't his mail. This has your dad’s name written all over it. 

He trudges out of the house, walking across the yard to your house. Checking your mailbox to see if his mail was also accidentally delivered here. A simple mixup, probably a new mail delivery person. When he sees the mailbox empty, he walks up the walkway to your front door. Preparing for your dad’s usual grumbles about the mail always being screwed up and packages being late. Knocking on the door. His eyes widening when your pretty face answers. 

…

“Oh sorry- hi good morning.” He says, a stack of mail in hand and like a deer in headlights. His and your hearts nearly stop. He should’ve known you’d answer the door, but it’s like he’s in a daze. You’ve been thinking about him all day and then he just shows up at the door? He’s a big man. Tall and broad. So seeing that look on his face and hearing his words just spilling out like he can’t stop them. It’s endearing. 

“Hi!” You reply once you find the voice to speak. Swallowing hard and looking up at him. Fuck, he’s hot. He looks like he’s on his way to work. Something smart with science in a tall office building in the middle of the city. White button down tucked into his pants, leather belt and sharp, handsome brown shoes; and the smell of his aftershave mixed with cologne wafts in through the open door. And here you are, in your pajamas, a tank and some little shorts. It’s the middle of summer, but why does this keep having to happen? He shows up all the times you’re barely clothed. This time there’s nowhere to hide. “So I… got your mail by accident. Here you go.” He says, reaching the stack of envelopes across the threshold. His dark eyes scan over your face when you look down. He wonders if you’re wearing those pink panties right now. “Thanks, wow must have just been a mistake then?” You look up and he nods, not even having heard what you said because he was distracted looking at you. Your hair, your bare shoulders and way your breasts sit so perfect and pretty in your tank top. He remembers seeing them spill out of that bra. Beautiful and soft looking. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I’m creeping on you.

“I think… you might have my mail too? I didn’t see any in the box.” He says after clearing his throat. Your mom got the mail this morning and she must not have had the chance to look at it very closely. “Yeah, maybe let me go see.”

When you turn away, he has to force himself to stop watching your ass, your hips and the way they sway. Is it obvious that I’m drooling over you?

It’s obvious. And you can’t stop the satisfaction you feel, grabbing that stack of mail off the kitchen counter and knowing you’ve got this big man on a leash right now. This could be fun. You take a deep breath, calming your thumping heart and return. “Here it is!”

He smiles when you return, his hands clasped in front of him because of the thoughts going through his mind right now. He’s a man, not a teenage boy. And yet here you are, you’re this young thing making him feel all horny and hormonal. 

“Thank you... oh and thank you for offering to watch Gabriella tomorrow, I know it’s short notice.” He adds, hoping you’re cool with it. Wondering what’s going on in your head. “No problem, she’s sweet, I’d be happy to help.” You nod, smiling up at him knowingly and it makes him feel a little warm. “Well she’s excited too” He nods. It’s not a lie. Gabi’s always trying to talk to you when she sees you around. She’s seven and loves asking about where you got your shoes, your new dresses and how you do your makeup. She’s a very cute little girl, very polite too. 

He debates bringing up what happened a few days ago. But it seems like things are cool and you’re not totally freaked out. That’s good. 

…

Tomorrow comes, and at three you head over to his house. Walking across the yard and to the door, using the spare key he gave to your parents in case of an emergency. Waiting a bit until Gabi gets home off the bus and making lunch with her. Talking about all the little things her mind comes up with. She thinks it’s cool to talk about girly stuff with a girl that’s older. She just thinks you’re the coolest. She was just waiting for school to end until she could come home and hang out with you. To feel like a big kid. 

It’s funny being in his home. You’ve never really been inside like this since they moved in. But you’ve also been away at college for most of that time too. You catch a glimpse of his bedroom as you walk by, the dark sheets and neatly folded blankets. His shoes at the door. Mostly dress shoes but a few pairs of beat up Nike’s, his shoe size impressive. You can’t resist opening the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, pulling the cap off his cologne and smelling it. The scent is like a drug to your brain. It just smells like a man. Maybe you’re creeping on him a little in return. 

Soon the time is nearly 8pm and you’re helping Gabriella into bed. She really is a sweet girl and you’ve learned so much about her and her life. A lot of things that let you know Miguel is a really good dad. All the memories she’d recall with him, vacations and school projects, along with little things like trips to the park and him taking her to work with him. You studied all the family photos on the wall. Most of them of Miguel and Gabriella, some with what looks to be Miguel’s parents and his brother maybe? There’s one photo with his ex in it. It’s in Gabi’s room next to her bed. She’s a beautiful woman, undeniably. Definitely his same age and you can’t help but wonder about the history. Would you have a chance with someone like Miguel who’s already lived a whole life? He’s got everything worked out already and you haven’t even started yet. 

You don’t even know why you have these thoughts. When did the thought of sleeping with him turn into spending your life with the guy? It could all just be fun. If you do manage to sleep with him, it should just be for fun. Because after listening to his little girl talk about how wonderful he is; looking at the pictures on the wall; even observing the way he sets up his home, the color of the pillows on the couch, the dish rack by the kitchen sink, the settings on the kitchen table. This man’s a man. You’d fall in love with him so quick and easy. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening. Gabriella is settled in bed by now and your job here is done. Waiting in the kitchen and giving him time to adjust. Smiling to yourself. 

He stops at the kitchen door after walking in. His work clothes as attractive and sharp as always. His hair slightly less kempt than it probably was this morning. “Hey…how’d it go?” He greets, undoing the buttons at his wrist and rolling his sleeves up a bit, it’s been a long day. He leans against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. “Hi. Gabi’s in bed.” You smile, you could suck the soul out of him right now. 

“How was she?” He asks, unable to stop his eyes from roaming your pretty face. Could you be wearing those pink panties right now? Why must he have these thoughts? “She was perfect… She's so sweet. We painted our nails and I helped her with her homework.” 

“Wow… busy day.” He nods, walking across the kitchen, past you to the fridge. His cologne wafting past you. “What do I owe you? What’s your usual rate?” He asks, grabbing sparkling water from the fridge. “Oh it’s fine, you don’t need to pay me. You get the next door discount.” You joke.

“No, I insist. I said I would pay.” He chuckles softly, twisting off the cap and drinking some from the frosted cool bottle; your eyes flicking to his forearms, tanned and toned. “How about… $200?” He offers, and your eyes blow wide. “$200 for five hours? No way… that’s too much” You shake your head, but he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. That’s like $40 an hour. 

“Here… I have it right here.” He holds out two hundreds from his wallet. The money just appearing. “No I… it’s too much.” You refuse, not taking it. He can’t believe this. He’d spend a thousand dollars on you to get you anything you want. He’d love to do it with the way he’s been thinking about you for days. It’s no issue for him. And here you are refusing. He places it on the kitchen counter between the two of you, sliding it across. Your heart thumps in your chest. Your hand goes out, hovering over the bills before sliding it back to him. “Just pay for my dinner instead.” 

“Dinner…” His heart pounds in his ears. He has to make a choice. If he takes the money back, he agrees to do as you ask. Pay for your dinner. Take you out. He’s hoping that’s what that means. He’d get a chance to get closer to you and know you wanted him too. He could entertain this little thing going on between you two. Or. He could slide the money back and insist you take it. Go home and that will be the end of it. Refusing the chance to have you, to take you. 

He slides the money back towards himself. Scooping it up and putting it back in his wallet. Success you think. You smile to yourself, feeling so satisfied. “We can be in touch?” You say and it’s at this moment he’s wrapped around your finger. “Yeah. Definitely.” 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you.” You say and grab your bag off the kitchen table. Slinging it over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. O’hara.” 

If you hadn’t turned to leave, you’d have seen him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Mr. O’hara. Just like his dream. Your sweet voice as he sheathed inside you. This is too much. He hears the front door close, letting out a deep breath and rubbing his forehead. “Hah…” 

He checks on Gabriella who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed. Going to his bedroom and winding down for the night. Unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off along with his tank top underneath. Walking to the bathroom in his boxers to brush his teeth. He stands in front of the sink, in the dim light of the bathroom, only the nightlight illuminating the tile. Opening the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush and something falls out. He looks down, flicking on the light when he sees it. A pile of pink and lace on the porcelain. He reaches down without a second thought, your panties dangling off of his fingers. What have I gotten myself into?

taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @sana-4 @peachey-pie @milkyardbetter @chrissymodi-frost

@pxtched @izakopanyi2 @lazyjellyfish300

@nina-from-317 @bammzyboomy @naomihaha2099 @bruh-anator3000 @buttertubz

[zappedbyzabka]

TRUST ME I am not disregarding this.

The suit photo! The baby photos! His sweet, squeaky, and coy way of talking!

The way he hesitates and “We shouldn’t be alone on Christmas. You’re alone right?” (Paraphrase) Oh, what a darling.

While William Zabka does not physically show up in 1×13 of The Equalizer, he voices Scott in three scenes throughout the episode

[mcondance]

he loves me (lyzel in e flat) — tim laflour

tim x fem!reader, reader is referred to as a girl, general discussion of tim sex wise, missionary, dirty talk, praise-ish, he says he loves you uh that's it, it’s a lot of elaboration abt how much he loves sex with you LMAO, title from this song (i love you jill scott <3)

tim likes sex, to get that out of the way. on the outside and to people who don’t know him, he’s a little dumb, a little odd and he seems like he’d fumble around these types of things, but he does not.

tim likes sex with you, way more than he should.

he likes digging in your guts, bumping your body up the bed every time his hips kiss the back of your legs, sticky and slippery from the mix of fluids flowing from you two.

with deep purrs pushed hard from his chest, the sounds of a man who’s in love with what he’s doing, he splits you open so good, ripping pathetic, guttural cries out of you, whiny moans that make fucking you so alluring. your arms clasp tight around his neck and you’re trying to ground yourself, and it’s always in vain, fingers gripping your own arms so tight the skin caves.

“belong here, baby, belong inside you, so so deep in you, go crazy when i don’t get to feel you,” he coos, almost singing it, his naturally ditzy tone laying an innocently genuine feel over his obsessed words. it's ridiculously pathetic, his admission of devotion to your cunt, to the clenches and drooling and soaking that your pussy delivers to him. velvety and gripping, he's a fool for it.

he’s telling the truth though, and you know it. you’ve seen what happens to him when he goes too long without bullying your pussy, fucking you like he hates you, like you owe him something. he gets all aggy, eyes all glossy and spaced out and he’s ticked off by the smallest things.

he needs to get his dick wet, needs you to get it wet, to let him fuck your body into the mattress and listen to your moans that have turned into pathetic little cries, spewing from your mouth with every jerk of his hips against you. hot skin hitting against yours, unforgiving thrusts sending shockwaves through your whole body, it's by pure luck that you and tim met, that you get to be pounded into his bed every time he gets the chance.

your pussy sings to him with every move he makes, honeyed melodies ringing out through the room, and it’s idyllic, perfect and so far from beautiful yet right there.

he fucks you like both need it, hard and messy like he loves what he’s doing to you.

he does love what he’s doing to you.

turning his head to the side so he knows you can hear him even over your enraptured keens, he lets his mouth loose again— "i love you, y'know, love you and your pussy so much, 's my favorite thing in the whole world, always so wet and tight and ready for me, always excited that i get to fuck you." he's elated, sure in the fact that you belong to him, that you are his to stretch and pound and fuck.

his lip ring is cold against your face and it doesn’t do much to help; it makes it worse, makes you really compute again that you’re being fucked dumb by a pretty punk who’s obsessed with fucking you.

it all sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you're grasping tighter over his back, hands raking down the muscle. you almost growl, so keyed up and overwhelmed with feeling, good fucking feeling, rocking up the bed with every roll of his hips. tim's love for sex has opened you up, allowed you to partake in it at your most vulnerable level, unashamed and liberated in your euphoria.

he likes the way you take his dick, how you spread your legs and make space for him between them, how you let him fuck you to his heart's content, let him express his need inside you.

his big blues have drifted to something much darker, blue-black windows looking down at one of the best parts of it all, to where ropes of your cream span from your slick lips to his wild hair.

he huffs out a laugh, breathing "yeah, look at that,” dark eyes hazy and gleaming.

he knows you're being fucked too good to even give a fuck about what it looks like, but he's a talker, and he’s having so much fun, and the sight is just so fucking disgusting that he has to say something; something else that feels like a reward, like a deity has blessed him with it, the gift of sex that he so confidently uses, whenever he wants.

tim loves fucking you, loves dwarfing your body with his intimidating size, loves the sounds you make, loves the sounds your bodies make as they meet again and again, as he nestles his cock right where you both know it belongs.

devoted is what he is, a regular fiend, only made worse by the way you fit so tight around him. every push into you is so good to him, brain taken over by how it feels to be deep inside your welcoming pussy.

every little jerk and jump, every melodic whine, every word your slur into his neck, it’s everything to him.

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett (3)

you and Scott go after Rogue and Wolverine... but when you return, a familiar face shows up on your doorstep.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

"You look around. I'll check the ticket agent," you told Scott, heading toward the booth.

He gave you a stiff nod, quietly glancing around for any sign of Magneto's disciples.

It didn't come as a surprise when Rogue ran away the next day—and it came as an even less of one when Logan went off after her, despite the professor's instructions.

So you and Scott set off to Grand Central Station in search of the two before they could be taken hostage.

Of course, Scott was less than happy to be there.

Just another mess of Logan's for him to clean up...

'Big baby...'

You were quick to explain the situation once you finally made it to the front of the line.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I need to know if you've seen a young girl pass through here?" you asked, sincerely. 

You just wanted Rogue to be safe.

Scott could get pissy about Logan stealing his bike or going against direction, but at the end of the day she was the priority.

And you weren't going to stop until you found her.

Lord knows you were just like her about ten years ago.

"She's about seventeen. Uh, my height. Has brown hair, and she—"

A loud growl suddenly rumbled from behind, and you turned around, only to be grabbed by the neck and hoisted up by a huge, hairy, blonde man whose nails needed serious trimming.

"Sabretooth... I take it?" you rasped, your hands coming up to grab at his in an attempt to pull him off.

But he let out a roar, roughly pulling you closer, his hot breath fanning over your face.

"Scream for me," he snarled.

Looking past him, you saw Scott storming over, about to help, when a yellow skinned man hanging off the ceiling suddenly stuck out his long tongue, whipping Scott's glasses of his face and forcing him to burn a gigantic hole into the roof.

Using the seeds in your pocket, you shot out a gigantic stalk of bamboo, ramming him through a wall and into the next room, sending rubble flying everywhere.

Dropping to the ground, you let out a gasp of relief, clutching your throat.

'This is day two... I get choked again... someone's dying.'

"You said he wanted me," Logan glared, aggressively grabbing his jacket.

"I made a terrible mistake," Xavier admitted, thoroughly disappointed in himself. "His helmet was somehow designed to block my telepathy. I couldn't see what he was after until it was too late."

Face taut, Logan stormed toward the exit of his room, shoving his arm through the sleeve.

"Where are you going?" you asked, brows furrowed.

"I'm gonna find her."

"How?" Xavier turned to him.

"The traditional way: look," he spat, striding out the the door.

Quickly, you turned to the professor, and he gave you a nod of approval, already aware of your question.

Though, if you were being honest, you would've done it anyway.

"Logan," you called, following him out the hall and down the steps. "You can't do this alone."

"Who's gonna help me? You?" he scoffed, eyes focused ahead as he started toward the exit. "So far you've all done a bang-up job."

"Then help us. Fight with us," you pressed on, closing in on him.

Suddenly, he stopped, turning around so fast you nearly crashed into his chest.

"Fight with you?" he growled, voice low and face only a few inches from yours. "What, join the team? Be an X-man?"

You stood firm despite his mockery, eyes searching his for what he truly felt.

Yet all you found was pain, guilt, and self-loathing.

He blamed himself for Rogue's kidnapping, and was lashing out from a place of hurt.

So you wouldn't take it personal.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You're a mutant. The whole world out there is full of people that hate and fear you. And you're wasting your time tryna protect them," he shook his head. "I got better things to do."

He walked off again, but suddenly stopped, turning to face you once more.

"Y'know, Magneto's right. There's a war coming," he stated. "Are you sure you're on the right side?"

"At least I've chosen a side."

The words slightly stung, and he gave you a look as he opened the door, only to be met by Senator Kelly.

The driving force of the Mutant Registration Program.

Only now he looked like shit, sweaty and clammy and out of breath.

"I'm looking... for Dr. (y/n) (l/n)," he panted, weakly.

Suddenly, his legs gave out, and he fell forward into Logan's arms, unconscious.

"Bring him to my lab. Quick," you ordered, turning around and heading for the lower levels.

'Never a dull moment...'

"Senator Kelly," Xavier started, leaning a little closer, "I'm Professor Charles Xavier."

The senator was laying on your operating table, hooked up to several machines in order to keep his condition stable.

Though it was truly anything but that.

"I was afraid if I went to a hospital, they would—" "Treat you like a mutant?"

The professor shook his head, reassuringly.

"We're not all what you think... not all of us."

"Tell it to the ones who did this to me."

Xavier sighed, wheeling his chair around to the tip of the table, where Kelly's head rested.

"Senator," the professor rested his hands against the man's temples. "I want you to relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

He took a moment, sifting through Kelly's memories to find out exactly what happened.

And when he did, it was evident on Charles's face that it did not bode well.

Quickly, he turned around, Logan following him down the hall where Scott and Ororo waited, while you stayed with the senator.

In the meeting...

"The machine emits radiation that triggers mutation in ordinary human beings," he started, the news thoroughly worrying him. "But the mutation is unnatural. (y/n)'s already deduced Kelly's body is rejecting it. His cells show signs of significant degeneration."

"What effect does radiation have on mutants?" Scott asked, turning to the professor.

"There appears to be none. But I fear it will seriously harm any normal person exposed to it," he answered.

"So what does Magneto want with Rogue?" Logan chimed from his spot against the wall.

Xavier hung his head, "I don't know."

That was all he needed to hear.

Logan didn't give a shit about some senator—Kelly made it abundantly clear he didn't give a shit about mutants—so he wasn't gonna sit around and play doctor for him.

One less human to worry about.

"Wait a second," Scott realized. "You said this machine draws energy from Magneto, and that it weakened him."

"Yes," the professor confirmed, slowly beginning to realize. "In fact, it nearly killed him."

Wait a minute...

'Oh, shit.'

"He's gonna transfer his power to Rogue, and use her to power the machine."

In the lab...

"Is somebody there?" Senator Kelly rasped, his hand weakly reaching out toward the darkness.

"Yes," you answered, quickly heading over. "I'm here."

The moment you arrived at his bedside, his cold, clammy hand grabbed your arm, frantically.

"Please don't leave me," he heaved, pleadingly. "Don't wanna be alone."

You looked down at him, eyes saddened by his sorry state.

His veins were dark and bulging painfully against his skin, and he was covered in an ungodly amount of sweat.

Or, at least, what you thought to be sweat.

Though you were quickly starting to realize that he was liquefying right before your eyes.

"All right," you nodded, softly.

Water was leaving him at a steady trickle, and you knew he had only a few minutes, if not moments, left to live.

"Do you hate normal people?" he suddenly asked, voice distant.

And for a man on his deathbed, you answered honestly.

"Sometimes..."

"Why?"

Now that took a little more thought.

"I guess... I'm afraid of them."

He smiled, reassuringly, "Well... I think you have one... less person to be afraid of."

And before you could respond, he gasped, suddenly choking on his own throat as it began to turn into water.

Your eyes shot wide, and you looked down at his hand, only to liquidize right in your grasp, splashing water everywhere.

Snapping your head back to him, you watched as the rest of his organs and bodily fluids devolved into water, until it all finally burst, leaving nothing of him to remain.

'Professor! Now!'

Quickly, you turned around, sprinting out the door and down the hall toward where they were having their meeting.

Once you made it to the door, you barged in, interrupting a Logan-Scott argument.

"Senator Kelly is dead," you stated, seriously.

"I am going to find her," Xavier turned to the rest of you, face taut.

All bets were off now—there was no holding back.

"Let's settle this."

[spicemaidenfic]

How do they feel about dress-up? 🦸 (Pt. 2)

Featuring Bucky, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Scott Lang, T'Challa, Spidey (aged-up), and Doctor Strange. Written from a bi woman's perspective. NSFW under the cut! ⚠️🔞

Bucky Barnes

Bucky’s got too much trauma. If you ever dared tell him that you find the Winter Soldier look hot, he’d feel quite honestly disgusted and betrayed. With some couples therapy, he might come to understand your position, assuming you make it abundantly clear that your feelings regarding the look are purely physical and no part of you is emotionally attached to the persona. He’d probably never feel like he could do the full roleplay, but he might be willing to grow his hair out and put on a little eyeliner for you now and again. What Bucky really would like is for you to appreciate him as he was. Profess to him that you love a man in uniform, tell him that you want him to pull the old sergeant garb out of the closet and fuck you like he just got home from the war. That’ll be a dream come true for him, and an exercise he’d be much more comfortable entertaining.

Sam Wilson

Sam would throw his head back and laugh if you told him you thought he looked hot in the Falcon garb. Add that you dig the wings, and he’d raise an eyebrow. What’s that? You think he looks hot in the Captain America suit too? He’s flattered. Truth be told, Sam would jump at the chance to fuck you in costume—either costume. He’ll even throw in some cheesy one-liners. No wings, though. What would you say to a little birdwatching to help you get in the mood beforehand? As in you sit on the roof with a pair of binoculars while he does majestic circles around you? That’s the best he can do where that’s concerned. Ask real nice.

Wanda Maximoff

Hey, this girl has a secret thing for Mexican wrestlers, she can hardly kinkshame you for this dress-up request. Plus red is the color of love, so it’s ready-made. Tonight, it won’t be Wanda who comes for you…it will be the Scarlet Witch!

Vision

Vision’s first reaction to you asking him to make love to you as, well, the Vision will be a thoughtful stare. You didn’t actually start dating until he’d made the habit of appearing before you in ostensibly human form. He’ll ask you if it’s more about your wanting to feel like you’re connecting with the real him, or more that you find his synthezoid look arousing. He won’t judge you for either—he’s only curious. A little bit of both, you say? Few things in this world can make an artificial lifeform smile so.

Scott Lang

Now, when you said you wanted him to wear the Ant-Man suit to bed, you didn’t have shrinking in mind, did you? Scott’ll fuck you with it on no problem, but he’s disabling the controls first. Better safe than sorry. He can’t really make fun of you for being into the suit, he honestly thinks he looks pretty good in it too. Now if Hank would just make you one…

King T’Challa

Be careful when you broach this one with T’Challa. The Black Panther is a sacred tradition, and he’ll be much more likely to see the humor in your request if he’s known you for a while. He’s going to think you’re kidding at first, and when you insist that you’re not, he’s going to poke fun. In the end, though, he’ll indulge you. He might even end up liking it more than you do.

Spider-Man (post-NWH)

“Sexy” is not the first word Peter thought anyone would use to describe his Spidey suit. “Is it because it makes my butt look good? I guess it does make my butt look good.” He’s down, don’t worry. Seeing as the mask helps dial down the sensory input from world around him, he might last longer with it on, so that’ll be a nice bonus. What’d be really nice for him is if you pulled it off at just the right moment…

Doctor Strange

Hoo boy, will you get a look from Stephen when you confess to him that you dig the mystic garb and want him to fuck you in it. He’s always been more of a take-all-his-clothes-off kinda guy, hence your having to make the request. When he asks you to clarify whether “the outfit” includes the Cloak of Levitation, you’ll tell him it doesn’t have to because you don’t want to risk him not dressing up at all. But guess what? He’ll do it anyway. And find it startlingly erotic. Next time, he wants you to be the one wearing Cloaky. Preferably with nothing underneath.

gif sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

[ivymarquis]

So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books. 

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not. 

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style. 

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household. 

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her.  Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people. 

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining. 

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished. 

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much. 

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself. 

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off. 

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you. 

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, “questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

[grapejuicebrat]

“brutal”

PAIRING: neighbour! badboy!harry x innocent!reader

SUMMARY: you are tired of your image of an angel. you want to be a disappointment and your incredibly hot neighbour is happy to help you get spoiled.

SYNOPSIS: you’re a bad idea but i like bad ideas

NOTES: i plan it as a bunch of blurbs. like different times when harry helped reader to get spoiled. if you’ll like this concept i’ll think about writing a whole story or i’ll continue writing blurbs about neighbour! harry. it’s up to you. anyway enjoy!

WORD COUNT: 716

my masterlist

“No, angel, i’m just telling you that you’re too sweet for this shit”

“Stop calling me that! I’ll pay you for this, how much do you want?” you start taking money out of your bag, counting the bills. “Or are you like a guy from books? You want a kiss or a good fuck?”

“Actually that’s a good idea, I didn’t think about that” he laughs. “I don’t want to be a boy who will spoil a good girl, you know?”

“I want you to be that boy. I don’t know who can i ask for this except you. Please, help me. I’ll do anything”

“Anything?”

“Anything”

“Alright, come in”

How did you end up in this situation? That’s easy to explain. Harry is your incredibly hot neighbour who you think is the perfect bad boy. He is a disappointment and you want to be a disappointment too.

For your whole life you were known as a nerd, as a good girl who never smokes, never drinks alcohol and never goes out with guys. I mean isn’t it boring? Constantly hearing that you will never do anything wrong. Obviously you wanted to prove the opposite, but didn’t know where to start. That’s when you met Harry.

Harry had just moved into the apartment opposite and you noticed him immediately. His appearance literally screamed that he was a bad guy. Then you found out that he makes money from fights without rules. And sells weed. And makes parties every weekend. Definitely a good guy.

“So what do we have? You want to be bad, to prove that you’re not a good girl, right?” Harry sits down in a chair and looks straight into your eyes. you are standing at the door, not knowing what to do. your heart is beating too hard, your hands are shaking with excitement. “Don’t be shy, come sit here”

“Where? In your lap?” Actually you can’t say you are against this idea. Quite opposite. What can you say? He is straight from the books. Like Hardin Scott from After. Those arms, tattoos, green eyes. God, if you weren’t a virgin you wouldn’t be so shy. Maybe, just maybe you could offer him yourself but you aren’t in a book. You can’t do this because for him it will be just a one night stand and for you it will be something more than a sex.

“Cute. Only if you want though” harry grins. It makes him laugh how sht you stand in place, not knowing what’s going on with you. “Sit on a couch. Gotta make a deal with you”

you nodded your head and sat down on the couch, away from Harry. Lowering your head down, you begin to twitch your fingers, trying to stop the trembling in your hands.

“What do you want in return?”

“A promise” he simply says

“What promise?” you ask in surprise, not knowing where he is leading.

“if you are bad for others, I want you to remain good for me.”

“what do you mean?” You tilt your head down in confusion, eyes widening.

“you’ll understand later”

Harry grins. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you.

part 2

Don’t forget to reblog and share your thoughts! x

if you want to be tagged in the next blurb, please write in the comments. also try to guess what’ll be next part about:))

[twiixr4kidz]

hi i was wondering if you could do a headcanon of gideon reacting to the reader and scott being best friends?

ooh yes ofc!!

gideon x scott's best friend!reader

you and gideon have been going out for a while

after the reset, he tries to forget about the past so he doesn't really ask you about yours

he knows you have a best friend and (surprisingly) doesn't care that it's a dude

you talk about him quite a bit because he always seems to get up to these silly antics..........

gideon quite likes hearing the stories

he needs more silly in his life

so one day, you're telling another story, and gideon decides to ask "hey, what's your friend's name?"

"oh, it's scott!!"

".....what?"

realization hits him like a fucking BRICK.

all those stories about his super hot girlfriend and his band and some dude he had to fight to get the girl

now gideon just feels STUPID.

HOW COULD HE HAVE BEEN SO BLIND????

and then you realize he knows scott

and now YOU'RE piecing things together

"WAIT... YOU'RE THE LOSER INCEL WHO SCOTT HAD TO FIGHT??" "HE SAID THAT ABOUT ME????" "YOU'RE LYING, YOU CAN'T BE, YOU'RE SO COOL??" "IM NOT LYING I SWEAR ALSO aww thank you"

if you try to get the two to hang out, they're both going to be very apprehensive

scott doesn't wanna kick any more ass and gideon doesn't want scott to kick his ass

he's changed a lot though, and he's determined to prove it

hell, maybe you can even get him to apologize to ramona ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it's worth a shot

gideon will say that now he knows you and scott are best friends, your stories are even funnier because he's picturing scott's goofy ass in all of these bizarre scenarios

[frogchiro]

No I have to add something to this or I'll go insane oH MY GOD-

Graves is awful and an asshole; every chance he gets he will rub it in that HE is the one getting hacker girl by his side almost all the time and not 141 :(( He thanks whatever higher power there is that he's a 'techno-wizard' as you affectionally call him and he can show his prowess off like a peacock both on the battlefield (you're not an operator and don't engage in fire exchange per say but he knows you still keep a watchful eye on them with cameras and your various knick knacks) and in the technical world, he LIVES for your praise and usually ends up with a half chub because of it :((

His latest 'kick 141 in the proverbial balls' operation was even more successful than his stunt with the plane and capturing Hassan. They were all stationed in some bumfuck-nowhere in Al-Mazrah with you in tow for technical support. It was...hell to say the least. During the day it was unbearably hot and Johnny felt like his fuckin' balls were dripping with sweat and he could see that Ghost wasn't in much better shape, his huge body was naturally incredibly warm, all that muscle and layer of fat and thick body hair was made for keeping warm in colder climates; Johnny knew that from experience when you, him and Simon were stationed in Russia and Ghost had the two of you cuddled up all nice and warm, sharing intimate moments and body heat...but this wasn't Russia. It wasn't pleasantly warm but dripping hot and Johnny wished he was everywhere but not here and though Ghost didn't seem to mind the conditions, the Scott knew that he was bothered too.

But the real nail to the coffin was a message. Not a simple one like a debrief or a message from Laswell to update them, no. It was fucking Graves and what did he send? A picture of you. A photo of pretty little you, laid out like a perfect meal on soft looking sheets and it looked like some sort of base because it was way too luxurious to be a safehouse.

And there you laid, all pretty and nice with a shy smile on your face, naked safe for the loose shorts you usually wore. Your skin glistening with a healthy glow, looking impossibly soft and your stomach rolls only adding to the perfection of your body; you looked like a goddess. But then really hit Soap like a train; Graves had you laid out like this, probably touching your body with his rough hands, kissing all over you and muttering dirty words of love in that damn southern accent in the comfort of a cool room, AC probably blasting all nice and comfortable and cool judging by the way your nipples were hard and perked up, that damn mutt was surely having the time of his life suckling and biting on them while Johnny and Ghost and the rest of their men were stuck in horrendous humid heat with no privacy and absolutely no time to even jerk off, though he could see Ghost spreading his huge legs and adjusting his cock through his dark pants, no shame at all.

Johnny had to turn the phone off again and could only scream in his head at the top of his lungs in agony, his head thumping semi-loudly on the wooden wall behind him. Oh he was gonna get you the second he comes back♡

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Michael Redgrave (The Lady Vanishes)—my beautiful bisexual hot linguist geek dandy nerd. I'm specifically nominating him for "The Lady Vanishes," but how can you not love him in this—it's a strikingly modern performance, not a whiff of old school macho masculinity; he starts the movie as a bit of a cad, thoughtless and self-absorbed, but the second our heroine's in trouble he's attentive, he's helpful, he's running around speaking languages and helping her with international spycraft shenanigans and just being so funny and warm and JOYOUS. (and again. he is SO bisexual. see the picture [attached below]). he's hot in the debate club twink kinda way and i've never wanted to smooch an idiot more

Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it.

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Michael Redgrave propaganda:

"BISEXUAL."

"It feels unjust to submit the entirety of The Lady Vanishes as propaganda, so I'd just like to very politely point everyone to 56:30 of this link, where we get a very nice view of Michael Redgrave's ass I MEAN his lilting, fine-tuned twinkish beauty"

Cary Grant propaganda:

The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"

last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.

[snvffsoda]

headcanons for Ren, Strade, and Lawrence for how they are when driving! //bonus Celia!!

certified passenger princess if not the one driving

confirmed by Gato he's an average driver, but has gotten a ticket for running a red light before (he was trying to get to an anime merch shop to buy a rare figure before it was sold out)

turns his AC up all the way, but will turn it down if asked nicely

drives Strade’s old car, it has a citrusy fresh smell, with a hint of Strade's cheap cologne forever permeated into the vehicle itself

cleans his car every couple of months or so, but does tend to throw and leave his trash in the back seat, usually consisting of old Monster Energy cans and fast food bags

sings loudly to the music he listens to when driving but does get self-conscious and stop when in traffic or is being watched by other drivers

tends to speed when driving, and doesn't notice when he does, like he's always in a hurry when he is at the wheel

has anime stickers on his car window consisting of his favorite anime girls he knows its a bit corny, but he’ll defend that decision with his life if told by someone it is

forgets to use his turn singles sometimes

hates the sound of cars honking or blaring during busy traffic, it irritates his sensitive ears to no need

wanta a motorcycle, but can't afford one

better than Ren, but is still kind of reckless when he does drive

can and will drive over curbs and sidewalks when needing to make a tight turn

contradictory king, it comes to calling out other drivers mistakes on the wheel

listens to music extremely loud when he drives and doesn't turn it down when you're trying to talk with him

surprisingly takes very good care of his car, mostly to hold up a nice appearance to his neighbors, or to his unassuming victims who follow him into it

don’t touch his radio, he can and will get pissed.

acts like a dad when you turn on the indoor car light and freaks out about it

speeds when driving, notices, but doesn't really care

car sex, that is all.

named his car and speaks to it like it can hear and understand him

always knows some sort of back alley or sketchy shortcut to get out of traffic every time he's in it

will curse under his breath and sometimes go on mini rants about bad drivers when seeing them on the road or driving near them

can name almost every brand or type of car he sees when driving, definitely a bit of a car nerd deep down, but will never admit to it

has been caught drunk driving, but talked his way out of getting arrested by the cops and was let go scott-free

doesn't even enjoy driving in general, it gives him anxiety, and would prefer to walk if given the option

keeps a blanket and pillow in his car for when he drives out into the woods at night he’ll tend to sleep in his car when he does

has one of those mini solar dancing flowers on his dashboard

the safest driver out of them all, though he does drive a little too slow sometimes

when alone, he’ll punch at slam at his steering wheel when overwhelmed or extremely angry

keeps a plant in his cup holder and waters it regularly

doesn't listen to music when he drives, but will get nervous when driving with someone else and turn on the radio instinctively, so as to not sit in awkward silence

has hot-boxed in his car before

keeps a can of mace in his glovebox, but has never had to use it

loves the sound of rain hitting his car window when driving, and loves to fall asleep in his car when it rains outside because of it

passenger princess 2.0

Driving? you mean a limo?

jokes aside she's a decent driver, but doesn't like to drive herself places, but when she does, she usually gets where she needs to go without any trouble, that being said,

she's been pulled over for drunk driving many times, and has always paid off her tickets or bought a fancy lawyer to make all her DUI charges go away

never drives the same car twice

has argued and yelled with her husband Harold over the phone or with him in the car while driving and has received stares from passers-by before, she doesn't care though

does her makeup while driving when she's in a hurry or on a tight schedule, and is very good at it

honks her horn at bad drivers and flips them off when they pass, definitely the most outwardly aggressive, when driving out of them all

her cars are ALWAYS clean, almost unnaturally so

keeps a gun in her glove compartment and has never had to use it though stands by it that she does need it

has scratched her business enemies cars up, and threatened to run over her husband and the business associates she despises with her car multiple times

[judeyswife]

not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

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"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.