#should i tag this as like. idk its yearning

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[hauntingblue]

making a collection

making another collection with a threatening aura

[dbg-wow]

trying to fully commit to csp by deleting my drawing app

so... robot girls, huh? anybody?

[paleepeaches]

Happy Valentines Day

(Connor Rk800 x Fem Reader)

Warnings: Idk NSFW so 18+

Word count: 2422

Summary: It's Valentine's Day and instead of making Connor dinner you let him fuck your brains out.

A/N: This took way longer than it should have. It's pretty mid.

Tags: If you're still interested @joelsfavoritegirl

You were a festive person. Always have and always will be. Valentine's was your favorite holiday not only because of the pink and red strewn across supermarkets and stores but because it was a day of love: a reason to celebrate you and Connor’s union. You were sentimental. Sensitive and a bit of a sappy girl when it came to things like that. Connor was fully aware of it. He made note of it when you first got together. How you pouted up at him. Your bottom lip jutting out slightly covered in your lipgloss. When things didn’t go your way your pretty doe eyes would water with tears and coat your spiky lashes. Seeing you so whiney and needy all the time was an adorable sight. Especially when it came to him. You’d pout every time he had to leave for the DPD every morning. Today was no different.

“Do you have to go?” You fluttered your lashes up at him. 

Connor turned his head to look at you while he did his tie. His hands skilfully mastered it. He felt his resolve waver seeing you so like that. You’d just gotten up. Hair was a bit messy, eyes a bit tired but what you wore got him. It was the babydoll nightdress. Baby pink in color and the cups on it hugged your tits so nicely. It was sheer and cut off at the top of your plush thighs. He had to resist throwing you on the bed and just fucking your brains out. Poor baby girl didn’t know what you were doing to him.

“I have to. Hank needs me for another case. Plus who’s gonna make enough money to take care of you?” He cooed down at you with his signature smirk. 

You huffed out a sigh nodding in understanding. “Okay but are you gonna be home on time to celebrate? To eat dinner and do….other activities?” You blushed at the hint you threw out. Connor had been balls deep inside of you, lapped viciously at your pussy, and had you whining and calling him daddy yet you were still so timid. He nodded his head trying to hide his amusement at your shyness. 

“Of course,” He smoothed out his jacket and reached a hand out to you. He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek and relishing in its softness. “I’ll never keep you waiting. You know that.” He leaned down and placed a peck on your lips. He could taste that lingering lip balm on you. Cherry. You always had to have it cherry-flavored. He licked his lips tasting it and hummed. He reluctantly let you go as soon as he felt his cock begin to throb to life. Just kissing you was enough to send him into a feral mood.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He promised you and grabbed his car keys leaving you wanting and yearning for him.  

You filled your day with meaningful tasks despite the growing ache of Connor leaving you high and dry. You were dedicated to making this Valentine’s Day one he would remember. 

You had decorated your shared home in heart-shaped garlands and had a few scented candles going. If it was any other Valentine’s Day involving a human with functioning organs then you would have made a delicious meal and set wine out. However, this was Connor an RK800 model who didn’t need food or water to keep functioning. So you had to get creative which was why when he came home he was happy to see the festive decor, the soft glow of the candles around the living room, and the trail of petals leading to the bedroom.

You knew it was a bit cheesy of a tactic and overused but what other things could you have possibly used as a romantic trial? Connor had come home with flowers and of course, a gift for you held in the other hand. “Y/N…” He called out softly as he pushed open the bedroom door. If he had lungs they would have surely strained and stopped his breathing. He’d seen you in proactive wear before but this was the cherry on top. 

You sat knelt on the plush soft bed with each leg under you. You wore a babydoll lingerie top that cupped your breasts, making them sit so pretty on your chest. The top was thin, sheer, and baby pink bringing out the color of your skin. A pretty bow sat in the middle between the valley of your breast effectively accentuating your body. A thong was keeping your pretty puffy lips in place from falling out. Connor could see you went all out this year. He set the gifts for you on the dresser and walked meaningfully towards you.

“You like it?” You giggled softly a playful smirk on your pouty lips. Connor sat down next to you, the bed dipping in the process. “Of course I do sweetie.” He moved your hair aside with his hand and leaned in kissing you on the exposed skin of your neck. You inhaled sharply your eyes softening and body feeling like putty. 

Connor was programmed to analyze and interrogate deviants. So, naturally, he was able to figure out what aroused you and what didn’t. He knew of all the special spots on your lovely skin. His lips skilfully kissed your neck leaving hot wet kisses. You mewled delightfully for him making his cock harden.

He leaned into your ear whispering, “You sound so fucking pretty.” 

It caused a pink shade to cover your supple cheeks. He never ceased to make you blush even when he wasn’t trying to fuck you.

“Lay down, I wanna taste you.” He lightly pushed you down to lay on the bed. Your hair was sprawled across the sheets and your arms were at your side. Connor spread your legs and dragged you towards the edge of the bed. He kneeled before you, slipping your thong off. His fingers skillfully spread your puffy folds revealing your wet slick cunt. 

“I haven’t even touched you and you're already soaking.” He smiled cruelly at you. 

“Connor…” You whined out, hips bucking up to get him to taste you, finger you, anything. 

He laughed at your desperation, “Always so needy.” Connor didn’t want to give in to you just yet. He wanted to draw it out, have you begging for him to touch you. His plans quickly changed when he saw your pleading eyes and fluttering lashes. You looked so docile and cute that he couldn’t help but give in. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He spread your pussy folds further getting a good look at how drenched you were before giving you a long lick. He was hungry for you, tongue swirling around your clit and lapping at your puffy folds. 

“Fuck C-Connor-” Your moans were broken and rough as he continued his assault. Your eyes rolled back and your hands immediately tugged on his hair.

“You taste so good.” He muttered the vibrations of his voice over your clit caused you to throw your head back. 

He took your whines as fuel and dipped his tongue deep inside your hole. He groaned feeling it grip and clench, greedy for anything to fill it. He retracted his tongue humming and relishing in the sweet taste of your juices. 

“Shh baby you’re doing so good for me.” He cooed to you and before you could reply he plunged two long and slender fingers into you. You gasped for air, body squirming under him. He had to hold you in place to keep you from moving.

“Connor I-I think I’m gonna cum-” You choked out, voice cut off by his fingers slipping out with a loud squelch. He smirked down at you and you knew he’d refuse to give you an orgasm. At least not with his fingers.

“Connor, please.” You whined out for him desperately clawing at his trousers and tugging his belt. You wanted to see him, stop this torture, and have him fuck you raw.

He smiled down at you, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You’re so needy Y/N.” Connor slapped his hand down on your cunt making you yelp. It came out breathy and far from painful. His hand smacked you again, hitting deliciously against your throbbing clit.

Connor engrained your reaction into his hardware, studying, and learning. He yanked off your babydoll lingerie, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bare skin. 

Connor was quick, fingers deftly opening each button of his shirt. His belt was next, his hands deftly moving to unbuckle it. He threw it on the floor, making it clang against the hardwood. He pushed down his trousers and underwear down and his face fell in relief. His cock sprang free, the head was swollen and leaking pre cum. 

At the sight of it, you felt your hole flutter and clench around nothing. You squirmed on the bed, withering in need. “Connor please, please, I’ve been a good. girl” You mewled out, batting your sweet lashes up at him.

There was something so thrilling and almost primal about you laying before him so vulnerable. The way you begged for his cock had him hardening even more. You never ceased to make his heart clench and cock jump from how sweet you were.“Shh, baby it's okay. I’ll give this pussy what it needs.” He cooed to you so softly.

Connor pumped his cock a few times, his pre cum seeping from the tip and spreading over his shaft. He pushed your legs up to your chest and lined his cock up to your hole. He could see your pretty pussy tighten up in anticipation. An amused exhale left his nose as he looked up into your eyes. They were foggy, glassy with lust and pure need. 

Connor pushed the head of his cock in and he groaned, hand coming down to the side of your head to brace himself. He gripped the bedsheets below you two and his face scrunched up in restraint. He knew first penetration was always hard for you. Your poor pussy couldn’t take so much cock so he had to take his time. He struggled to keep his composure and just thrust his full length into you. He knew if he did you'd cry out, sob, and claw at him. It was thrilling.

He sighed out and smoothed the skin on your hip with his palm. "Relax baby." With each second that passed he slipped in further and further in taking his time to stretch you out.

You were a mess below him, clawing at his shoulders and back. If he were human you would be sure he'd have red claw marks on his porcelain skin.

You panted like a bitch in heat, cunt clamping hard on him. “M-more, more Connor, I can take it.” You pouted up to him.

Connor chuckled at your bold statement. “You can take it huh?” 

“Y-yeah I can take it-”

Connor slammed his cock into you causing a yelp to escape your throat. The big stretch was painful as his tip bumped your cervix. Your body jolted upwards away from him but he just pulled his cock out and shoved it in again.

“Thought you could take it, princess. This is what you’ve been whining about?” Connor smiled down at you cruelly. He folded you in half, pushing your legs farther up to your chest. His cock slipped further in, making a lewd squelching sound.

“Y-yes!” You cried out in response.

“Then stop fucking complaining and take my cock like a good girl.” Connor leaned down and kissed you roughly, tongue slipping into your mouth. His hand gripped your chin as he pumped his cock into you.

His heavy balls slapped against the plump flesh of your ass. The noise echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and into your ear. Your juices leaked out of your cunt, coating his cock and dripping down his balls. He could feel it warm them and groaned into your mouth. He pulled back from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s my good princess, fuck clench down just like that.” 

You blushed, your pussy clamping down on him just from the compliment. “Ahh! Mphm! Fuck…Connor!” You were loud letting high-pitched moans fall from your pouty lips. Your eyes rolled back and you bit down on your lip relishing in the sweet bliss of his cock.

“Don’t do that. I wanna hear you.” Connor smacked your face lightly and you released your bottom lip from your teeth. 

“C-Connor I’m not gonna- I can’t-” Your words were chopped up, as you struggled to speak. They came out in whiney babbles and Connor couldn’t help but become amused. He thought you looked so cute like that. Your face controted into pleasure, words not even forming sentences just sounds. He loved seeing you completely drunk on his cock. 

“Good girl, just like that.” He praised you. He pressed the pad of his thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing slow and tight circles around it. You cried out, clawing at his back. Your bambi eyes brimmed with tears. You blinked, lashes fluttering and coated in the wetness. Fat tears rolled down your pink cheeks as you came.

Connor noticed but didn't fret. You would cry often due to the pure delight of cumming. He leaned down, cooing to you and licking them up with his tongue. He could taste the bitter and salty flavor of your tears.

That simple act made your walls clench down on his throbbing cock. Your legs locked him in place, wrapped around his waist and not letting him retract further than he should. He pounded into your soaking wet heat. “Fuck!” He cursed as you milked his cock. One final thrust into your spongy sweet spot had Connor spilling ropes of cum deep into your pussy. He gave a few sloppy thrusts helping you both ride out your orgasms. Your cream and his cum oozed out as he pushed his cock deep in, making it overflow and spill. You poor pussy was a mess. All fucked out and painted white.

Connor panted for a few seconds but recovered quickly due to his android body. He placed sweet soft kisses on your red cheeks and your forehead. “You did so good for me baby.” His voice was soft and sweet as he spoke.

You smiled up at him, panting softly, “Happy Valentine's Day.” 

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

“If You Don’t Look Good, We Don’t Look Good” - Dean x Reader

Rating Explicit

Dean x Reader

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Humor, Shameless Smut (I got carried away), Cameo Appearance by Soft!Dom Dean, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 4200

You and Sam had decided on a code to use in the most grievous, world-shattering of situations.

Full Dean Meltdown

Neither one of you have had to use it – until you get a text from Sam. A case has gone all kinds of awful for Dean. You are not ready for the version of Dean you have to face in the aftermath.

Notes: This is total self-indulgence because I miss This Dean.

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Hair Pulling" square.

Image created in Canva (links for photos used - found on Google: Jensen Ackles, Liverpool Comic Con, 2023; Jensen Ackles Photo Shoot

66

You stare, mid-muffin chew, at Sam’s text.

“Fuck me.” A few stray crumbs and a rogue blueberry land on a page of lore you should probably be more careful with. But you can’t be bothered with MOL reference handling procedures at the moment.

This is Red Alert. Defcon 5. Designated Survivor Mode Activated.

You and Sam had decided on a code to use in the most grievous, world-shattering of situations.

Full Dean Meltdown

“Fuck.” There’s no point in continuing to curse to yourself. “Fuck.” But you can’t help it. Neither one of you has ever had to use it before. You’d come close a few times.

The book is forgotten, pushed to the side on the table surface. Your fingers glide over the phone’s keyboard.

Is he alright?!? What happened? Please, tell me this is a joke?

I wouldn’t joke about this. Sam’s words bubble up, line by line. Well, I made the mistake of joking right after it happened. It’s gotten progressively worse the entire drive back. He hasn’t said a single word since we got in the car. IDK what’s gonna happen.

“Fuck.”

Should I evacuate? How much time do I have?

Just pulled into the garage.

Shit, Sam! Do you not understand how a code word for disaster preparedness works? One needs enough time to actually prepare for the disaster!

You wait. More bubbles. Then nothing. Maybe Sam didn’t make it out alive. Maybe you should make a run for it through the war room and up the stairs. Save yourself.

I received some communication. He’s headed straight for the showers. Meet you in the lab.

“A what?”

“Musca.” Sam sighs. “Ever seen ‘The Fly’?”

“On cable years ago, filtered through my fingers.”

Sam continues. “They secrete this sticky goo to build a nest.” His mouth crinkles. “Dean landed in it.”

“The nest?” you ask.

“The goo. A puddle of the stuff. Monster fluids freak him out.”

You shiver in disgust at the thought. “Fuck creature feature fluids. 100% in agreement.”

“So, we tracked the musca to its hideout in an abandoned factory. We split up when we got inside…”

“Why do you always split up?” you ask, following it with a frustrated groan.

Sam purses his lips and then proceeds. “When I found him, he was basically glued to this massive conveyor belt holding the goo like it was a kiddie pool. I had to cut him out of most of his clothes to free him.”

The thought of a half-naked Dean has you shiver for other reasons. “Poor guy,” you add in an effort to express sympathy over your dirty thoughts.

Sam chuckles.

You straighten with worry Sam has figured out your crush on his brother. Ready to dispute any yearnings, you add a grumbly edge to your voice and the question. “What was funny about any of that?”

Sam fists long strands on the right side of his scalp high in the air. “Even his hair got stuck to the belt. I had to hack half of it off.” He fingers his bangs back into effortless waves. “Once we killed it, Dean mumbled, ‘Vidal Sassoon you ain’t, fucker.’”

You shrug, confused. “Well, I mean, I get the trauma from the nasty gnat excretions. But that doesn’t explain why you had to warn of a possible Dean disaster.”  

Sam’s gaze tears from yours to stare at the floor by his boots.

“Sam?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I might have said something like, ‘We can’t all be masterful hunters with glorious locks.’”

You frown. “Sam…”

Sam raises a hand in defense. “Hey, maybe now he’ll finally shut up about my hair being a liability. I mean, hello, I’ve still got mine.”

The temptation to knock on Dean’s bedroom door is great. But you refrain, hiding away in yours instead. He’ll be better in the morning, you decide. Especially if you fry up some bacon.

A light rap of knuckles against mahogany distracts you from the latest show binge on your laptop. You pause the action. “Yeah?”

“Got a minute?” Even with the question, Dean’s tone sounds like a command.

You gulp. “Sure.” Rotating in the seat, your hand grips the top of the backrest. You’ll try to hold the line against the Dean Winchester Offensive.

The door swings slowly on its hinges. Dean slinks into your space. It’s the opposite of his usual bluster and humorous bellows that lead to inevitable laughter on your end. His slippers shuffle along the tile. He’s wearing roomy sweats and a dark t-shirt that hugs his torso. A folded towel is wedged into the crook of his arm. 

Your brain locks onto two things that appear off about Dean. The first thing totally out of place on the masterpiece before you is the baseball cap.

In the next second, you remember why he’s wearing it. It’s not because he’s undercover as a delivery driver or Fish and Wildlife Game Warden.

Dean does not want you to see his hair in its current state.

The second thing makes your pulse quicken. His beard is… gone. You can’t remember the last time you saw him even close to clean-shaven. You forgot what that sharp jawline used to do to your insides.

“Hey.” You don your best don’t-let-on-to-anything smile.

Dean scrutinizes you as if you are a witness in his rapid-fire way and then huffs. “Son of a bitch told you, didn’t he?”

You decide not to remind Dean he and Sam share the same mother. “He did. I’m sorry. You okay?”

The door clicks shut. “I’ll live. Sam might not see the light of day, though.”

You ignore the murder threat, instead focusing on a new scent in the air. You sniff, nostrils flaring with the deep inhale. Dean smells like he’s working on an amazing beach tan.

He nods at your reaction. “Coconut Oil. I had to use all that was in the kitchen for…” He circles his lower body with a finger and eventually points to the baseball cap.

“Did it do the trick?”

“Better than I hoped. I even got all that nasty shit out of my hair.” His weight shifts from one foot to the other. “But I need a favor.”

“At your disposal.” Still seated, you somersault your hand as if addressing royalty.

That at least cracks a tiny smile into his serious veneer. “I had to take a razor to my hair and cut it pretty short. Can you clean me up in the back?”

You clutch your chest and gasp in the most dramatic fashion you can muster. “You trust me to touch your hair?” 

“I trust you with my life, wiseass.” Dean smirks. “Can the sass and help a guy out, would ya?”

A warmth blossoms in your heart at Dean’s words. The heat spreads to your skin. You wave a hand at the towel and clear your throat. “Those the accouterments?”

Dean quirks a brow and grins. “Croutons?”

“And you call me the wiseass.” You sigh.

He shrugs with a nod in agreement. He drops the towel on the desk and lifts one of the corners to reveal the electric razor inside.

“Okay. Here’s as good a place as any, I suppose.” You rise from your seat, close the laptop, and move it to your dresser.

“You sure? We can go to the bathroom.” He thumbs at the door.

You wave a hand at the chair you vacated, now standing behind it. “Here’s good.”

Dean sits. The wooden chair creaks.

“Towel.”

Dean grabs the razor before passing the towel. You flap the fabric, channel your inner toreador, and let it billow over Dean’s frame like a sail. When it settles, you wrap and tuck it into the back of the collar.

Moments like this are pure indulgence. Getting within close proximity of Dean years ago left your brain unable to process the simplest tasks. Breathing. Blinking. Talking. Eventually, you got a handle on your senses. Now, you could treat yourself to the experience of him on occasion in a myriad of ways. No one had to be the wiser that the mundane helped create many fantasies.

“Razor.”

Dean chuckles, presenting you with the razor over his shoulder. “It’s not surgery.”

“Hey, appreciate the seriousness with which I’m embracing this endeavor.” You step to his left. “Dean?”

He lifts his head to peer up from under the brim of his cap. “Yeah?” His blinks emphasize the question.

All that does is force you to focus on his pretty lashes and the eye color he’s daring you to try and describe in your head. The cheekbones and the manicured five o’clock shadow aren’t helping matters either. You swallow and remember what’s supposed to happen next. “Can’t do much with that hat on your head.”

“Oh. Right.” He sighs. “Just, no laughing, alright?”

You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze softly in confirmation. “No laughing. Promise.”

Dean exhales. You suck in your lips and hold your breath. He closes his eyes and peels the cap off.

You stare dumbfounded.

“Say whatever you gotta say,” Dean mumbles with scrunched features and shut lids.

Your vision clouds. Heart races. “It’s…”

“Awful,” he interrupts.

“Perfect,” you whisper.

Eyes open at the word. His gaze shoots up to meet yours. “Huh?”

Gone are the 90s dreamboat bangs he’s been growing out and tending to since 2020. In their place are a couple of directionless inches that need gel after the scrubbing, clipping, and hat matting. The Musca goo must have done most of its damage around the sides and back. In those areas, he’s shaved it short and close, done his best to fashion a fade that you imagine was muscle memory for him even after all these years. You eye the spot at the base of his skull that needs to be cleaned and tapered.  

You’re blinking, fighting back tears, utterly speechless.

Dean stares, total confusion lining his face. “Are you crying? Why the hell are you crying?” He taps the top of his head. “Shit… is it that fucking of a fiasco?”

“No.” You cover your mouth at the possibility a nervous laugh might spill out, which will only irritate him further. Moments pass as you struggle to steady your breath.

“Well, what the hell is it then?”

Dropping the hand covering your mouth, you beam down at him. “It’s you.” You could care less about what you were supposed to do with the razor in your hand. Instead, you perch your ass against the desk so you can lean back and take him in.

Dean’s eyes widen. You’ve seen that look of concern many times. “Yeeaaah. It’s me. Who else would it be? Do I need to get Sam?”

Your head shakes in amazement at the vision. “I haven’t seen this Dean since… damn, since before the pandemic. Since you and Sam made that bet, remember?”

“Gonna have to be a little more specific. Sam and I make lots of bets.”

“The one about you being unable to resist the temptation to take a razor to your hair during lockdown. I don’t even remember what the stakes were.”

Dean contemplates. “Hm. I haven’t got a clue. That was like, what, four years ago.” His lids shade the dark green of his irises. “This Dean?”

You nod. Your breath hitches at the swell of emotions rising. “The guy I first met.”

Dean shifts in the chair and leans forward. Every furrow and crinkle on his face melts away. His eyes appear to double in size as he waits for you to continue.

“My hero.” The whisper is a physical manifestation of how vulnerable and exposed you feel at Dean’s silent interrogation method. You press on. “The one that risked his life to save me… forever ago.”

He lifts one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. “Sam was there, too, you know.”

You laugh. Cheeks warm at the adorably smug reaction. “Yes, you’re right. He was.”

Dean shakes his head. “Sam’s had the exact same haircut for years. I don’t see you crying every time you lay eyes on him. He’s a walking reminder of the guy you first met.”

“But he’s not you.” In your haste to provide an explanation, you realize you’ve said too much.

Dean’s mouth opens a fraction. His brows downturn. He’s working it out in his head in real-time.

You’re terrified.

A new smile forms. You think you spot a blush on his cheeks. “What else do you remember about this Dean?”

You shrug and tear your gaze from his. You don’t want your words to betray you again.

“Hm.” Dean rambles off a laundry list. “A lot of brooding back then, wasn’t there? I was a really good brooder. Hard to figure out? Distant, too, right? Definitely knew what was best for everybody. Stubborn jackass.”

You remain silent.

“Okay, still a stubborn jackass.”

You giggle. He joins in with a chuckle. Your anxiety eases and you find courage to look at him again.

“We’ve all changed in different ways, I guess. You, for example.” Dean gestures in your direction.

You stiffen. This could go many ways. You aren’t ready for any of them.

“You don’t take any of my shit, for one.” He raises a finger. “You're confident. You speak your mind. You have a life outside of these bunker walls.” Four fingers are on display for a while. He smiles and elongates his thumb. “But you still make this your home.”

“Every second of the life I’m able to live is because of you guys. I owe you everything. I’m lucky you let me make this my home.” You reason.

Dean’s smile drops. The open palm clenches into a fist and rests on his thigh. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“You and Sam did all that for me without batting an eye. You didn’t expect anything in return. You and Sam gave me so much more than I could ever repay. You gave me a second chance. You gave me a home.” You shrug and smile. “You became my home.”

He studies the floor and smirks, stating more to himself, “Not the only long-standing bet I’ve lost to Sam today.” Dean inhales and sits tall, focusing back on you. He nods, slow and calculated. “So, perfect, huh?” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get a big head.”

“A little late for that.” He grins and reclines back. “Would you go so far as to say this Dean” – he sweeps his hands in front of his figure in a dramatic gesture – “is irresistible?”

You exhale. “I don’t know if I’d say irresistible.”

He licks his lips. “Whew. Well, that’s good. I mean, otherwise, you’d have the same problem I have.”

You drop the razor on the desk and cross your hands over your chest. “What problem would that be?”

A heated gaze, beginning at your socked feet, rakes over you with his answer. “How much I find every fucking thing about you irresistible. You could shave your head and wear a potato sack, and I’d still have to keep my feelings in check.” You're practically on fire by the time his eyes lock with yours. “Every goddamn second of every day I’m around you.”

“This would be one of those times I don’t take any of your shit,” you scoff and squint back.

It’s his turn to clutch his hand to his chest. “You think I’m lying?”

“I think you’re having a little too much fun at the expense of my soul-baring.”

“Wanna bet?” 

Dean’s voiced that question countless times. Tonight, though, certainty laces his words.

He seems to take your silence as the only needed response. “Kiss me.”

“Wh-hat?”

“If you think you can resist, kiss me, and it’s a one-and-done.” His brows lift. “But if you can’t… Well, I might not leave this room anytime soon.”

“That doesn’t sound like a wager. More like a dare.” You straighten your stance. “Besides, you’re assuming…”

He grumbles out an interruption, “Sounds like somebody’s stalling.”

Your mouth snaps shut.

“Maybe we both take the armor off for a night. Take a chance on something that could be awesome.” Dean posits. His hands rub the cloth atop his thighs. “I can make it awesome.” The tone is low and promising. “If it helps, I’m this Dean tonight. We can worry about that Dean tomorrow.” He smiles, reaches a hand out to you, and nods in encouragement.

He’s struggling to play it cool, keep his emotions in check. You’ve seen this Dean before. He’s inhaling and exhaling fast through his nose. His jaw clenches and it cracks your resolve even further.

You drop your shield and let this Dean win you over. 

You melt, wrapping your fingers over his. This Dean’s touch electrifies every cell and awakens every dormant hope you had put to rest. He tugs you into his space. His lead forces the parting of your legs in order for his thigh to slot between. You hover. Your chin drops to your chest while his chin tips up high to hold your gaze. His body heat pulses off him like a vibrational energy. “Kiss me.” It’s the sweetest and softest request you’ve ever heard this Dean utter.

Your fingers trace along the freshly shaved hair over his right ear. It’s slippery and smooth in one direction, scritch-scratchy in the other. You can study every battle scar on this handsome canvas. No bangs of curtains or overgrown beard can hide them from you now. 

His lips part and release a deep sigh. Your fingers slip down his neck. Warm hands rest on the curve of your hips.

“I won’t be able to resist you,” you whisper.

“Good,” he hums. He’s guiding you with a firm grip to straddle his thigh. Then, there’s an encouraging push with a large palm and splayed fingers against the middle of your back. The sweet smell of coconut hits. Your gaze zones onto that bowed top lip. The way the plump bottom one parts from it to grant entrance.

Dean huffs an impatient groan you are all too familiar with. “You don’t kiss me in the next five seconds, I’m gonna kiss you.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?” you tease.

“More like a warning.” His voice is gruff and deep.

You hold back a moan at the sound, then dip down and do as you’re told.

Everything about the kiss is eager and rushed. Together you’re a tangle of limbs and fever pitch need. You’re pressed tight and right to his body - all muscle-tense and trigger-ready. His lips respond in kind to your every brush, swipe, and nudge for more and more.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” he murmurs through the kiss.

You gasp in satisfaction at the intention. 

His lips skim to your jaw, under your ear, then down your neck. “I gotta know that’s what you want.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Another hum thrums against your skin. You shiver as fingers creep under the hem of your t-shirt. His nose nuzzles along the frayed v-neck collar. He cups your breasts under the fabric. A thumb and finger twists one of your nipples even more erect. Teeth scraping and tongue lapping over the other fabric-covered nipple draw a strained moan out of your throat.

Soon the shirt is tugged hastily over your head for removal. Then you feel his mouth and hands all over your breasts again, unencumbered.

You’re a panting, heaving mess riding his thigh like you’re on an X-rated carousel. You arch your chest into his face. He’s slurping and sucking your nerve endings into the stratosphere. He pops a tit out of his mouth long enough to order, “Yeah, come for me so I can fuck that nice wet pussy.”

Dean staring at you, commanding you to come for him, is the tipping point you need to orgasm hard and fast.

“Yeah.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and clamps his mouth to yours. “Gonna feel so good around my cock.” He steals every gasp of air you expel with his inhales.

You’re tingling all over. He peels you off his thigh to sandwich his standing body to yours. He towers over you. He’s stiff and erect in his sweats, pressed into your lower tummy. His hands sweep up and down the channel of your spine.

“This Dean’s got a lot to make up for.” His tongue licks at your lips. “But I gotta be inside you right now.”

You nod. “You got five seconds to get me naked and on that bed.”

Never let it be said that Dean Winchester is not up for a challenge.

The chair behind him is now careening towards the bedroom door on all four legs. You scream-giggle as he lifts you into the air while he twirls, then tosses you onto the mattress, bouncing at the impact.

The sound of the chair crashing and toppling into a corner does nothing to distract you from watching Dean tunnel out of his t-shirt, kick off his slippers, and hopscotch out of his pants and boxers. His hard, thick cock springs to attention.

Fuck. You want every inch of that deep inside you.

He hooks his fingers onto the hem of your pants and manages to pull your socks off along with them. Kneeing onto the bed, he croons, “Been wanting you for so long, baby.”

Your head falls back into the cushion of the mattress, woozy from Dean’s actions and confession. “Probably been wanting you longer.”

Your panties are off and tossed over his shoulder next. “You don’t gotta wait anymore.” He grips under your knees and drags you to him. He slides over the wet heat of your folds and hisses, “Wanna fuck you without a condom.”

You whimper, “Just fuck me already.”

He smiles, grabs his cock – that must be fitted with a pussy homing device – and pistons into your entrance without any further mother fucking ado.

You gasp at the searing heat and sharp pain of him stretching you open. But he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s minding how your facial features accept the brunt of each thrust and the agonizing slow release of his cock. Over and over. His descent is just as slow as he fucks. But eventually, your legs clamp around his waist and he wraps you in an embrace. Chests plastered together, moaning into each other’s mouths.

Your fingers inch into what remains of his bangs. You pull at the hair and Dean groans out, “Yeah.”

It’s lovely and languid for however long you both have the patience. The feel of him everywhere and inside is something you don’t ever want to end. But there’s a second orgasm building. The thought of Dean spilling into you has your walls clench in impatience around his cock.

“Fuck,” he grunts, face tucked along your neck. You lift your head up to enjoy the view of his undulating back and curvy ass clenching and raising as his fucking gains momentum. You pull at his hair again. “Fuuuck.”

He stills, turns to stone, and you feel his cock pulse and warmth spill inside. Moments later, a hand wedges between your bodies to thumb your clit and trigger your second orgasm.

You cry out his name.

“I got you, baby,” Dean whispers into your ear. And he does. Not letting go and practically swaddling you with his body. The sexiest weighted blanket on the planet.

You smile and stroke – instead of pulling – at his hair. “Who’s got me exactly? This Dean or That Dean?”

He sighs, sounding winded. “You get all the versions. Whether you like it or not.”

“I’d like that very much.”

He leans back to stare at you. “Yeah?” He’s red and flushed and the happiest you’ve ever seen him. “Even if I grow my hair out again?”

You nod. “Yeah. More for me to pull.”

Dean groans and flops to his back beside you, chuckling.

You listen to the rhythm of your collective breathing slow down and regulate. His fingers brush along the flesh of your thigh. “Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Earlier, you said something about losing two bets to Sam today. What was the other one?”

“Asshole told me you had a thing for me years ago. Let’s hold off on telling him he was right, or I’m doing his laundry for an entire year.”

“I don’t think we have to tell him anything, Dean. I’m pretty sure he heard everything.”

“Hm. You’re right.” He’s up on an elbow, staring down at you. “Maybe text him that code thing? That might get him out of the bunker for a while.”

You blink. “Code?”

“Don’t play coy now.” Dean shakes his head. “But what’s the ‘66’ mean?”

You bite your lip.

He waits.

“It was Sam’s idea.”

He waits.

“The 66 Seals.” 

Dean cringes.

You shrug. “Too soon?”

“And he says I have a twisted sense of humor.” Dean yawns. He finds the edge of the comforter you both are lying atop and tosses it over your naked bodies. “So, will you still clean me up in the back? Maybe wait until morning, though?”

“Absolutely.” You snuggle into his chest, secure that Dean will wake up next to you in the morning. “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.”

It takes a beat before Dean responds with a teasing smack to the back of your head, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “Wiseass.”

[tomssexdoll]

I JSUT WANNA START BY SAYING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

ok.

so ofc u don’t have to do it but it’s just an idea could you pretty pls do a fic with bill and f reader, and reader (idk how what to call it, sorry i’m so confusing) is not really used to showing love in any way, and isn’t used to being shown love, and for the first time she asks bill to cuddle after a rough day or whatever (up to you) and it’s just rlly rlly cute and stuff

SORRY ITS SO CONFUSING i just need more fluff bill😞

YESS

TYSM FOR THE LOVE IT MEANS SO MUCH YOURE AMAZING AND ILYSM AND ILY ILY ILY ILY MWAH

I had a really, really rough day today. Work was so busy, I was working a 12 hour shift at the hospital I work out. I'm a nurse so I deal with so much ever day.

I came home to see Bill waiting on the couch for me, wrapped in blankets ane watching his favourite show, his eyes lit up when he saw me and he ran to me, "hey baby!" he smiled, I groaned "not now honey..im so tired im sorry" I sighed and grabbed his hand, walking to the couch with him.

Me and Bill have been dating for 9 months and he knows I don't really show affection and that I'm not used to recieving love, in past relationships I was severley neglected and used and it scared me, driving me away from any affection at all.

But tonight was different, after being yelled at, puked on, peed on and slapped 2 times I just needed his touch, I yearned for his arms around me, stroking my hair and kissing me.

We did show some affection of course but it was mainly him.

I whined and looked up at him, "can we cuddle..please.." his eyes widened and his head snapped towards me, "oh..uh..of course baby let's go to bed first" he held my hand, leading me to the bedroom and helping me change into comfier clothes, his actions quick so I wouldn't change my mind.

We slipped into bed and he grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, gently stroking my cheek and kissing me softly. "Why the sudden change of heart liebe?" he whispered softly, looking down at me and smiling like an idiot.

"After being abused all day I just need your touch, I need to be in your arms and feel loved.." I buried my head in his chest, wrapping my arms around him tightly and feeling his heartbeat against my ear.

"Do you want to do this more often schatz? I mean if you like it, why not do it more often, hm?" he stroked my hair gently, I considered it, I loved the way his arms felt around me, it was like relief after so long of being mistreated.

"I think we should, I was just scared and had to face my fears I guess, I could spend hours like this" I smiled, he chuckled "me too, me too"

After laying in silence for a while, enjoying each others company and Bill giving me occasional kisses or back rubs, he whispered softly in my ear, "you're becoming sleepy schatz, let's go to bed" I nodded softly and slipped off his chest, turning around and backing into him, I felt his arms wrap around my frame and hold me close, kissing my neck softly before whispering a loving 'goodnight' to me.

I was too tired to even speak and just replied with a mumble, Bill chuckled and turned the lamp off, slowly falling asleep in each other embrace.

tags: @itsmealaiah @ballhair @ge-billsgf @estxkios @bkaulitzlover @itsangelll @cyberleathalz @charliesgoodboy @tomkaulitzloverr

[n0phalt]

people found this which is kind of funny but also kind of keeps reminding me that the thing Happened even though my brain has since blocked it out so. mixed bag

i love the grind i love experiencing something devastatingly life altering and getting home just in time to scarf down One meal for the day and sleep immediately so i can get up in time to do the last few days of job that makes me frustrated and guilty inherently. guy in corner meme ‘they dont know i witnessed the horrors yesterday’ with name tag that says ‘im sooooooo normal’

[axelaxolotll]

very late intro post (yum!!)

.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.💞.

hi!! im Axel. i dont do much on here, lol so this will be a very unintriguing intro. (i rb. a lot. thats what i do.)

i use he/him and im a trans gay guy. if ur gonna be a bitch ab that, fuck off!!

my blog is about 70% yearning, 20% cod rbs, and 10% random shit. ish. i reblog a LOT.

my interests r - theater!! (something rotten is my current hyperfix!), sleeptoken, ghost, spiderman (itsv/atsv!!), music (alt rock / nu metal?), and probably some more that i can’t think of rn idk! <- coming back later on to say there was indeed much more

asks and DMs are always open :) im always here to talk or for silly questions (SEND ME ASKS SEND ME ASKS PLSPLSPLS)

i don’t have a DNI per se, just don’t be a bigot or a terf (also exclusionists of any kind lol. gtfo!!) and u should be good - i block freely !!

if anyone wants to be mutuals feel free to send me an ask/dm!! its hard to keep up w following every1 back but i love making mutuals so if u wanna be mutuals lmk!! (or spam like my posts. anyone who spam likes my posts i fall in love with)

i have a few tags i use pretty consistently -the #nsft tag, the #thoughts tag for writing, and i also use #asks every time i respond to an ask :)

idk what else to put here tbh so yeah! welcome <3

[safe-ship-harbored]

rain world tumblr dash simulator except its my beloved unlore iterators

❌ Rotten-Masquerade Follow

I have learned a new word. Slaytastic. Apparently it means something is wonderful?

☕️ Silliest-Cafe-Owner

@I-Have-A-Cool-Overcoat STOP TEACHING THEM NEW WORDS STOP PLEASE

♠️ I-Have-A-Cool-Overcoat Follow

hehe :3

#I should teach Crime funny words!! idk if hes on this website tho :(

( 5 notes )

❗ Your-Favorite-NPC Follow

Anyone know what this creature is? It doesn't look like any other creature that I've seen before

⌛ The-Time-Being

hi thats me

❗ Your-Favorite-NPC Follow

what?. what do you mean by this. and your tags????

#I have seen a lizard before!! you just don't look like one #have YOU ever seen a lizard? #also why did this get so many notes is this "time being" person really popular or smth

( 50,820 notes )

☕️ Silliest-Cafe-Owner

ugh its so annoying being based on a character from other media

☕️ Silliest-Cafe-Owner

@Gravities-Biggest-Hater SHUT UP YOU'RE LITERALLY BASED ON CHUUYA

🦀 Gravities-Biggest-Hater

I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING??

#you still haven't told me who Chuuya is

( 15 notes )

🦈 Shattered-Waters Follow

Yearning again.

🌊 Red-N-Blue-Rivers Follow

just talk to them!! it can't be that difficult, right?

🦈 Shattered-Waters Follow

It's really difficult Peril.

🎤 speak-up-pls

🦈 Shattered-Waters Follow

hey no that was meant to stay in tags.

#your font hurts to look at...

( 48 notes )

🦀 Gravities-Biggest-Hater

I hope I don't have to fight my evil brother today

☄️️ Stardust-Tossed-Aside Follow

hey.

🦀 Gravities-Biggest-Hater

no fucking way.

#I'm pretty sure he died to the rot #but still. nice joke

( 92,129 notes )

🐟 fish-posting

🐟 fish-posting

it's so dark down here.

#FISH HAS BEEN REAL QUIET SINCE HE POSTED THIS anyways i think this should be tagged with unreality and eyestrain #<- prev im in the void. what is unreal about this? i'll still tag it though. Thank you for pointing that out.

( 4,082,022 notes )

[coldshrugs]

wip whenever

i've been tagged by @myreia @thevikingwoman and @redwayfarers and surprisingly i have things to share already! idk who to tag since we're well past wednesday, but please consider yourself tagged if you are a writer/artist/gposer/maker of things. i wanna see it all!

i'm putting this snippet entirely under a cut because it's mature TM and kind of long. the miserable timeline is in full swing and i kind of love this kiss and its aftermath so:

✨💗✨

Io closes her eyes and nods. Her annoyance softens.

She lifts her hand to his chest. It whispers over his collarbone, winds around the back of his neck. The sounds of the stable fade from his mind when she lifts her chin and licks her perfect lips. He watches her make these tiny decisions; each one could bring their ruin, and she chooses to take the risk anyway. The rise and fall of her chest matches his frantic heartbeat.

His lips fall to hers.

There is something sacred in that first brush of their lips. A dizzying, deliberate attempt to drag it out, to breathe together, to crystalize the shape and taste and feel of this moment into something they might be able to keep.

Io stretches up, pressing closer. Her tongue rolls into Estinien's open mouth, soft and wanting–and she's smiling, for him. He answers in kind, his smile for hers, his tongue moving with hers. He tangles his hand in her hair and she moans, a little sound that fills his mouth.

Godsdammit, he needs to feel that again. There is no consequence Ishgard and all her high lords could dispense that would compare.

They could be closer without her fucking cloak in the way. He tugs the loose knot at her neck and it falls to the floor. He pulls her against him, hands roaming over her back, her waist, and down to where her dress drapes her ass. Her moan again, louder, shaking through them. His desire is no longer mere yearning; the reality of Io's reciprocations–once speculation, now unquestionable–earns a bodily reaction. He hardens, pressed between the tight squeeze of their bodies. She reaches for him, an indelicate, appraising touch that sweeps the front of his pants. Estinien groans and–

Io jerks away, a hand to her mouth and breathing hard. "Oh, gods."

It pains him to do so, but Estinien moves back. "Forgive me."

"For what? I should be the one apologizing."

They say nothing, standing in the dark with their hands at their sides.

Io's hair is tousled, a halo of flyaway strands catching in the light. Her dress is off-center, and she has taken the night's solitude to display her tattooed chest, if only for herself and the chocobo. Her expression has fallen into something serious, but her lips are swollen from his kiss. It is impossible not to want her, and she looks at him with the same conflict.

A breeze whistles through the open door, the birds coo and click, and the seconds drag on without extinguishing the heat in his chest or the greedy coil of need in his belly. Estinien closes the distance between them again. His knuckles ghost over her neck, and Io sighs at the touch. How long has it been since Haurchefant touched her like this? Estinien hopes he will never touch her again. He drifts to her chest, the jut of her clavicle, the barely-raised tattoo. He traces the bold triangle, lingering at its point until his hand skims the front of her dress.

Io holds his face between her hands, keeping him at a safe distance, refusing to let him go. Her dark stare is hard. She struggles with herself. Kiss him or don't. Estinien holds her waist.

"We can't."

"I know," he says. His grip tightens, and he guides her backward to the wall. Io's mouth parts when she meets the stone.

Her hands move from his face to his shirt. She toys with a button, looking from his chest to his lips. "If someone sees..." 

"I know, Io." Estinien hoists her up the wall until she's almost a head above him. The rough stones scratch and snag her dress, and it slips down her shoulders an ilm or two. Io's legs circle his waist, pulling him closer until her breath washes over his face.

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP... Oh shit, its actually Wednesday??

Tagged by @wrathfulrook @clicheantagonist @marivenah @cassietrn @the-silver-chronicles @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and I thiiiiink that's it... sorry if you've tagged me & you're not on here, its been a hot minute since I've posted a wip wednesday & my memory is basically Swiss cheese

Tagging anyone who wants to self indulgently share a WIP! Feel free to tag me, I love to read new stuff :)

**Also terribly sorry in advance cause this turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it would be**

WIP 1: OG Verse - fun times with Celeste & Gabriel

He has to resist the urge to throttle her, lest he ruin the inside of his house filled with years of carefully handpicked items, ones he held a certain fondness for. "You ruined my life, Celeste. Or do you not recall?” "Your life?" She tilts her head in mock curiosity. "What life? The one where you were sent anywhere they told you to go, like some mongrel with a barely slackened leash?" “Excuse me?" “We can pretend otherwise. Keep up the illusion that your life was marvelous, picture perfect even. But we both know the truth, don't we?" She takes a step closer. “You were nothing but the High Council’s defanged pup. Cluelessly doing their bidding before I freed you. If anything, you should be thanking me." "Thanking you?" He clenches and unclenches his fist in an attempt to suppress his anger. "Hate me if you must, fight me even, but do it later. Right now we must get out of here. If they do not know where I am yet, they soon will. What do you think will happen once they realize one of their precious dhamphirs has been under their nose this whole time?"

Celeste truly is the nicest individual you'll ever meet :))

Including this little snippet from Gabriel's pov as well cause idk, I just really like it

Unbidden worry strikes him. He listens, waits, and when his ears pick up the sound of soft, even breathing he lets out a breath of his own. Celeste and the baby were still there, unharmed, perhaps even sleeping. It brings an odd sense of comfort, reminiscent of times long forgotten, times he didn’t want to remember. If he did, he’d have to remember what brought them to a halt in the first place and he had a job to do. Grief and old wounds had no place here, at least not at the moment. Kicking his boots off, he treks into the bathroom and gently closes the door behind him. It’s a simple design: Shower to his left, toilet to his right, and a sink with a mirror above it directly across from the door. Leaning against the sink, he ruffles his short, black hair that's shaved on the sides and traces his fingers over an old, faded scar. It runs down almost the whole length of his face, going over his left eye and stopping just shy of the corner of his mouth. Overlapping it is another, only this one goes across his face horizontally, over the bridge of his nose and from cheek to cheek. The only thing that remains of the old Gabriel are his blue eyes, once full of life and mischief, now faded and dull. Turning away from his visage, he heads toward the shower and turns it on, stripping down while he waits for the water to heat up. He doesn’t need a mirror to see the multitude of scars and tattoos that adorn his body. Aching for another drink—if only to dull his senses and lingering memories once more—he curbs the yearning and steps beneath the water.

WIP 2: They Watch From The Pews

Willa squirms, trying to dodge cold fingers that reach out to trace over the letters, caressing them with a sadistic fascination that makes her stomach curdle in disgust. Disgust quickly transforms into a desperation to get away once he finally reveals the knife kept hidden behind his back. “Usually I’d peel the sin off but… I think this will suit you much better, don't you?" Pressing the tip of his blade into her skin, he teasingly drags it across her skin. "Tell me, Deputy, how did you feel when you got the news of Samuel's death?" "Chipper." She spitefully answers with a sneer. John heaves a dramatic sigh and presses the blade down harder, prompting tiny beads of blood to bubble up as he traces over the letters of her tattoo. "You can make this easier for yourself, you know." "I've heard that before. Got me a bullet to the leg." "Because you ran. My men only acted accordingly." "Fuck you and your men, pussy." "My, what a mouth on you." He tuts and makes a deeper cut. Her teeth sink into the leather in her mouth, denying him the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise. Without pause, he moves onto the second letter, brows scrunched up in concentration as he goes over the lines again and again. It isn’t until he’s on the last letter that she finally breaks with a muffled groan. He stops, lifting his eyes from his work. “Comfortable?”

John & Willa are bonding so well. Truly, I think they're starting to get along!

[dogcatrudegirl]

i guess i’m gonna make a pinned post? seems like a good idea maybe

hiya! i’m jas but you can call me jas. i’m a sapphic transfemme cat/dog girlthing and prefer it/its but she/her is also acceptable

i’m partnered, polyamorous and particularly partial to yearning

personal stuff is tagged with #jas’ wafflings

i reblog a lot of cosmere fandom stuff

occasional lewd stuff to be found here means minors stay out (i’ve created an alt especially for this: @dogcatlewdgirl but it’s more than likely some things will slip on occasion)

i’ve never had a single original thought

like seriously, head empty

idk how i should tag this tbqh

[saintetheldreda]

guys its so nearly november 5th and my heart might be exploding love is real for just one day of the year and ive cleared all my work and my schedule to make the god damn most of it im going to buy cake from my local bakery and read love poems and im making a playlist of every good love song i know so i can spend the day listening to ONLY love songs and im gonna binge some supernatural (i still havent finished it hehe) and go out to a field and stare up at the sky to pine and yearn and idk if im going on tumblr tomorrow so if anyone on the supernatural tag sees this tomorrow i hope you have the best november 5th i love you and if no one sees it i love you anyway and like sorry to be unhinged on main but i have had the shittiest year and i need this so bad and i think that fans should all celebrate november 5th cause if we let that day be remembered as a day of mourning or forgotten then we let the haphazard writing win in turning the great love story into a tragedy and i cant do that honestly we are reclaiming november 5th november 5th will be cute and we are going to make it cute and you can call my relationship to destiel denial but i call it defiance (it is definitely denial i am just delulu) (but i love it) (command me to be well etc) I LOVE YOU

[tododeku-or-bust]

Tbh the atsv fan "characterization" that pisses me off the most is the Miles Morales Prowler shit. Thats just a 15 year old. Good god. It makes me want to punch a bitch. At least Hobie is punk (even tho like. I still super dont like thag a lot of characterizations of him that seem to rely too much on the fact that a lot of Punk Thingz™️ (namely, drugs and hate for authority) are also antiblack stereotypes and we should be giving benefit of the doubt in these cases)

But Miles Morales is still Miles Morales, even if in a dif universe he's the prowler and his hair's different(? Im ngl im white and idk if it has anything to do with this, but ive seen his hair referenced before as important). I also see a lot of ppl forgetting how Morales was treated after the first movie, that fuckin colored pencil post still makes me mad.

Pissing me tf off. Sorry for mini rant it just seems you are also on this topic rn and none my friends seem that into the spiderverse 😔

Oh the moment I tried to block the Miguel tag (which DIDNT WORK, btw), the Miles G reader stuff showed up and I had instant regret 😭 but I haven't seen much for him outside of that. I'm glad I haven't, now.

Tbh, I wasn't really into Fandom when ITSV came out, so I (gratefully) missed all of the bullshit I heard happen with that one.

What's really pissed me off about Miles' seeming depiction by fandom, at least in the sections I've seen, is...idk if I'm saying this right.... To over simplify him? Like it frustrates me that a movie, both movies, the existence of Miles Morales himself, ALL have to do with themes of race, representation, and belonging. Yes there are plenty of other messages that are important, but all of them connect back to that identity too.

And people are just... Glossing over that. In this desire to go "oh he's so precious"- in what I'm sure is white ppls well-intentioned attempt to not be seen as a racist that doesn't care about Black children- they are still managing to completely ignore how his identity is symbolic in the storytelling. It's colorblindness in a movie where seeing race is essential and if you're gonna ignore it you might as well not even watch it at all bc at its core it's HIS story.

Like yeah, you think he's queer allegory, yeah you recognize how it feels to not belong, how to fight the status quo, fantastic, I love it, are you actually engaging with the race aspect that affects his experience of all of those things? Are you processing that when Rio said he might not be accepted in spaces, just maybe you have brown friends who feel that way in white spaces, fan and otherwise (esp now with affirmative action lmao, but always with Miles in the comics and dealing with fans). It's easy to think a multicultural movie with a Brown antagonist, well it "can't have to do with race" and that's just not true.

That's why people fixating on Hobie mildly disturbs me too; he TOO is a BLACK punk. That makes a difference, in his solidarity and what that meant for Black viewers. Or how they're ignoring Margo altogether despite her crucial role in his escape. Or how they're refusing to engage with Jessica Drew with understanding (you don't have to agree with her! I don't! But to understand where she stands in that spectrum from Hobie to Miguel, she is not nearly as bad as fandom wants to believe; she's actually comparable to Peter B but misogynoir prevents that conversation).

Like I am so happy we are finally entering an era where Black and Brown people are seeing themselves more on screen in roles we've yearned for, I am. But that also means it's time for white people to start engaging with what that means, and that means unlearning and learning.

[dangerous-advantage]

(yagi-no-eda here~)

Totally would circle back /pos. I’m also pretty new to the fandom!

My wife has liked Usagi Yojimbo and associated stuff for years but it’s only this summer that my brain has allowed me to really get into it, and make it past the first 2-3 comics. Not for lack of trying - it was just never the right time in an ADHD way*. Something always would distract me. I’ve inhaled all the comics I can in just the last couple of months and yeah, Stan came at me with a steel chair too. I did not expect …this whole situation. I’ve been a fandom lurker since 1999 and yet suddenly I have blog I use near daily, a sketchbook, and bunch of fic WIPS...

Mainly because I am Unwell over UY.

I have accepted my fate. This is always going to be a Thing now.

Though I did admittedly also inhale TMNT 2003 and Rise.

Travels with Jotaro is one of my favourite volumes, but I’m also weirdly into Bridge of Death rn and just….in general having a moment over Usagi’s time with Mifune. To the point I’m doodling intros for a fake show called The Mifune Years. He had this whole expected future and friends - denied.

* to be fair this is also the summer I found out its def ADHD driving this media analysis machine I call a brain

Hope this was an okay way to get back to you! /lil anxious

Feel free to network (or share thoughts) in my tags anytime, I love hearing what other people think. Also happy to chat anytime. Or feel free to tell me to back off and that's chill too :)

(been waiting to answer this for when i had more time but gave in; should be working on my fic(s) but you know how it is lmao. stay tuned for a very long post, because i love talking about things with people, especially things i like haha

very cool to see another person very passionate about this series! i grew up on 2003 (and the 90's movies-- my parents had the third one on cassette and i remember i wore that fucker out lmao) but it was always more of a "scattered interest" rather than something i was fully pulled into

i started getting into rise (read: The Algorithm came for me) probably mid-July of last year, but didn't fully fall into it until after the movie came out. it renewed my interest in tmnt overall, and i've been here ever since!

i did attempt to watch the usagi chronicles a couple of times, and i remember thinking they were fun but not really my thing. (i definitely want to revisit it, even though i know it won't hold a candle to usagi yojimbo. it does look fun in a silly way, which i can get behind.)

i knew vaguely about how big usagi yojimbo was, and that it was a commitment, but i'm surprised how quickly it sucked me in. i've never been super interested in stuff within the genre, but damn if it doesn't satisfy the autism. entire chapters devoted to infodumping about the edo period of japan? sign me the fuck up!

i especially did not expect how much it would make me feel. like. wow. ouch. usagi is just Some Guy but he is also so well characterized and you really feel for his internal conflict, 10/10.

i've been looking for series with older protagonists, especially those more focused on the familial/platonic aspect rather than romantic (i am just an nd queer on the interweb, can you blame me for yearning for found family?), but hadn't found any i really liked other than the tarot sequence by kd edwards (very good read, would highly recommend.)

also not to be a nerd but ohhhh my god i am so obsessed with the plot with mifune.

like i know the series takes place after that, and after the fallout of that, but just. wow. imagine devoting your entire being to another, to the point where you would readily die for them and their word, and then they die. they die, and you did everything you could to honor them in that death, but they're still gone.

like... that emptiness stays with you. you don't just get over that. maybe it's the "being raised in a cult" but wow, do i empathize with that.

idk if we explore more about the fallout/exact history with mifune/immediately following mifune's death but there is so much writing potential there. if i was not embroiled within turtle hell and 50,000 words deep in a multi-chapter fic already, i would absolutely write something for it.

like. this is adjacent to your interest in the topic, but can you just imagine (/rhetorical /general you.) as far as we know, he spent five days on the battlefield before he made it out to the tangled skein.

(which is one of my favorite additions like good god holy shit. that is so cool and angsty. your lord, days after dying, appears as a fucking ghost and saves you. like, if i were to be silly and funky, i would absolutely headcanon that as the reason that he was able to stand up and continue on. because i mean... what else? what else could motivate you to stand up once more after something like that?)

(well. honor. but mifune is the physical manifestation of honor in the narrative, so same difference? it's like both thematically significant and emotionally significant and-- ok im shutting up now. but i could talk for days, istg.)

but like. how do you reconstruct yourself from that? we see him holding tight to this sense of honor, even after his lord is gone, sent reeling (adrift in the waves) with only his soul and moral compass to hold to.

which makes it hurt so much more when we see these ideals of honor-- this ghost of a man, of a life, still haunting him years after the event-- still woven through the narrative, made to specifically conflict his deepest wants.

i joke about it a lot on my fic discord (i have a whole channel called 'father-material' devoted to just pictures of him hanging out with/taking care of kids), but something that seems very important to him is wanting to be a father figure, and wanting these connections to family and friends.

but that is contrasted against these ideas of honor, the very thing he built and rebuilt his foundation off of after it was torn away from him. and it's just so incredibly painful but also it makes sense, because he can't just give up the side of himself that is a samurai. too much of his person, his characterization, is built off of this.

to see it constantly clash with this want to settle down and finally rest, devote himself to his relationships/family rather than the code of bushido-- the very essence of honor itself-- ourgh ourgh ourgh its so good

(put aside the fact that he once said he could never serve another lord, and we know from the story that the idea of a "lord" can be more than just a person... he never stopped serving mifune, not truly. he still upholds the ideas of honor that mifune stood for/represented. as if his lord never truly left him.)

...i was going to say more, but then i realized this turned into a whole-ass mini-analysis, so i'm forcing myself to stfu. but basically: i have feelings about this series, man (/gender neutral).

anyway. if you ever do put something together, i would love to read/follow it! if i ever wrote something, it would probably be exploring the direct fallout of losing mifune, so hey, different niches but similar (:

also: never be anxious about talking to me ever in any way possible. i will probably be even more annoying than you in tags/asks/everything under the sun, and i do genuinely love talking to people who share my interests (typically about those interests.) i like to pretend i am an internet Cool Guy, however, it is a flimsy veneer to hide all the cringefail swaglessness and unending mental illness about my blorbos

(...i am so tempted to just invite you to my og turtle discord server so i can annoy you about usagi on the regular. also about what my reimagining of yuichi would be, because i have so, so many ideas.

i will refrain, but if you would be interested, it has been kinda dead as of late, so it would be nice to enrich the ecosystem a little by slowly collecting other usagi-interested individuals and slowly taking it over, one by one (/j /lh).)

anyway, same thing goes for me with my posts/asks/reblogs/messages/whatever. i am so very earnest, so if that puts you off, that's very chill and fine. however, as long as you're down to vibe, i am similarly down to vibe >:D

i once more apologize for this monstrosity of a reply. i would say it won't happen again, but my reading comprehension apparently does not extend to the "all things in moderation" maxim. instead i choose maximalism (to the max)

(sorry for that joke. yeah that will also happen again. sorry. /lh /pos)

[sweetfirebird]

Multifandom fic recs!

I mentioned doing a fic recs list the other day, and since I couldn't work on my needlepoint for a while (in which I feel like Mr. Thorton's mother doing her linen embroidering in North & South), I actually did one.

This is a multifandom recs list because it was more fun to just skim through various fandom bookmarks than to do a concentrated list for one show or whatever. Also.. some of these are for fandoms I read in and some are just fics I stumbled across one day, so they could be representative of their fandoms or not I have no idea. {insert shrug emoji here}

These are also all m/m and I think.... fairly cis? I did consider doing some f/f and trans and Rules 63 stuff but uh my bookmarks are a mess. The only fandom where I set aside some genderfuckery aside in any sort of organized fashion is Les Mis with Rule 63 stuff which maybe should get its own post. ? If people wanted?

Anyway, read the tags for each story, etc

Recs across the starboard bow, captain!

Star Wars Rogue One

waaay before the movie. I've recced this before. Chirrut/Baze

A Monk in Good Standing (Must Be in Need of a Bro)

The Eagle

Marcus/Esca

What Big Hands You Have

modern au, Esca is a size queen

From the Depths of His Heart

Canon-era werewolf AU

Póga

Canon-era  Esca teaches Marcus to kiss slow

Devotee

Canon-era gay farmers with some yearning

The Losers

Jensen/Cougar

The First Eight Don't Count

Jensen is a cat sometimes. Like a house cat. Yeah it’s weird for him too.

By Daybreak We'll Be Gone

werewolf AU (sensing a recurring trope here lol)

Inception

(Obv Arthur/Eames.)

Breaking and Entering

Jeeves and Wooster

Misplaced

Bertie has lost something

Voltron (the… whatever the new cartoon’s subtitle was. Legendary Defender?)

(I know that fandom is a hotbed of strife) but I am not/was not involved in any of that. Yikes.)

the electric synthesized pop ballad of why keith can’t have nice things

a/b/o au... but like... he just wants to be good

The Vorkosigan Saga

This is Ivan/Byerly because that is the only ship that matters

Twenty-Year Man

Ivan's getting older and having some realizations despite himself. Also... side note but... carefully and cynically yearning Byerly is a delight.

Original, historical

Darling and the Cinderella Club

Teen Wolf --HOWEVER! These are all Teen Wolf/SGA fusion

Why? Because the space marine vibes are impeccable

All Sterek

Show You What All That Howl is For

The Ring of the Ancestors is Not a Euphemism

Faint is a Medical Term

What We Do in the Shadows

Something Here Will Eventually Have to Explode

Guillermo/Nandor

Venom

Venom/Eddie, obviously

Heartthrob

Good Omens

Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy

Get Religion Quick (cause you're looking divine)

The Hobbit

all Bilbo/Thorin

Rations

pre-adventure sexual tension

The Subways of Men

modern au, but still with hobbits and dwarves

okay and then because idk I just love them finding each other after things

Plant Your Trees

It's Been a Long Day Without You, My Friend

(slight au)

And then one just to be sad

Hold Onto Hope If You've Got It

Les Mis

Enjolras/Grantaire because I am basic aw yeah

The Laurels of Doing is Enough

modern AU

True Love's Kiss

modern AU but with magic

Adequate

The first in a small Star Trek AU series that is cute

A Reversal of Celestial Mechanics

Canon-era, Enjolras takes Grantaire up on his offers… offers Grantaire didn’t realize he was making lol

There is one where Grantaire is fucking Courf while they both discuss/hint at his feelings for Enjolras but I cannot begin to express the chaos of my bookmarks so.... couldn't find it.

And finally...

Check, Please

Dex/Nursey

Bless This Mess and Call It a Home

Magic AU

The Most Room in Our Hearts

Dex sees Nursey holding some kids and gets Feelings about it

(there is a small nurseydex commentfic with sort of a similar bent but like so many things, it was posted to tumblr then deleted so is now lost forever.)

ok this one is uhhh read the notes and tags. It is known to me and @vashti-lives as the one we don’t talk about  aka the 1950s coal miners AU

Strange Lovers

And to finish up, a Ransom/Holster kink/getting together fic that was actually the first thing I read for this fandom.

When You Got Skin in the Game (you stay in the game)

I will post this to pillowfort too but I need to stop and eat first.