#tag: banter

[excelsiorfics]

Mere Mortals

Date: 20 Aug 2023 Author: OhMyStarsAndGarters Rating: General Word Count/Status: 2,082, complete Dynamic: Alex Summers & Hank McCoy, Alex Summers/Hank McCoy Characters: Hank McCoy, Alex Summers, James Proudstar, Piotr Rasputin, Simon Williams Tags: Road Trips, Hotels, Banter, Humour

Summary: What should be a four hour journey from Cambridge, Massachusetts to New York City ends up taking eighteen, thanks to what Hank calls “a symphony of executive dysfunction,” and Alex really doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that he’s looking at him when he says it.

[awetfrog]

Do u think gales autism would just make him immune to astarions manipulation tactics

[hannikin-grahamkin]

He's not my enemy. He is my homoerotic rival and if anybody but me ever tries to hurt him I will promptly kill them.

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[gnomewithalaptop]

Miss ma'am PLEASE

[littleaipom]

HEDGEHOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

as a long-time sonic fan i've grown so tired of the whole "sonic and shadow aren't friends. they don't like each other, actually." narrative that's become the norm. anyway thank you sonic prime???????

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Merlin: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed.

Arthur: But you do know better.

Merlin: Which is why I know it’s true, but you’re too proud to admit it.

Arthur: I am not too proud.

Merlin: Then prove it.

Arthur: I-

Merlin, with a raised eyebrow:

Arthur: I’m the king, I don’t have to prove anything.

Merlin: King of Dollopheads, maybe.

Arthur: Your king. What does that make you?

[cuthechicane]

SL: are you in the nico rosberg school then 🤨 nico's been always saying he feels that lando is too hard on himself

JB: i said this way before nico did! he copied me!

[rayveneyed]

cw: smut / cisfem!reader / scent kink

something nobody ever considers about satoru gojo is that he’s very particular about scents.

it’s a weird side effect of the six eyes that is rarely ever spoken of, by him or any other; along with his fantastical sight, his ability to distinguish minute details kilometres away, to read the ever-twisting flow of cursed energy, yadda yadda yadda — the extrasensory perception he was granted the second two gametes fused into a zygote had skyrocketed every perceptible sensation above the level of the average human. leagues above the level of not-so-average humans, too, but that’s a story for another time.

beneath the slightly dusty smell of skin cells and flesh, each person is different. diet and exercise play a huge part, of course, but then there’s the more obvious things — perfume, toiletries, surroundings. nanami always smells like paper and sandalwood. nobara, sweet and fruity, with a sneaky undertone of something synthetic — something almost hospital-like. yuji smells like grass and citruses, like he’s just popped open a can of something fizzy and caffeinated on the lawns of jujutsu tech. but if he had to choose a favourite…

“could — could you, um—”

one really must forge their own little bits of happiness in this line of work. the constant death and despair really puts a damper on one's lust for life. for gojo — sweets, cute little figures, themed cafes and expensive cakes, things that pleasantly appeal to and delight each one of his six senses. you, in a similar way, enjoy the finer things in life — cashmere and vicuña wool, luxury furniture for your top-floor apartment, century-old wines with names you cannot pronounce — and, to gojo's delight, perfumes.

oh, you have one for every day of the year, he's sure. white florals bursting with zesty citrus, bergamot and black tea when the weather cools. there's fluffy vanillas and sugar-sweet marshmallows, tempered with the smooth depth of sandalwood. osmanthus seeping with syrupy apricots and and peaches. cloves and nutmeg and cypress for the days when the clouds split open and tokyo turns grey.

with your back pressed against the couch and gojo flush against you, hips slotted between your pillowy thighs, he's able to dig his nose right into the curve of where your jaw meets your neck, exactly where you spritz your perfume every morning. today, it's one of those delicious, good-enough-to-eat type of smells; white chocolate and macadamia nut and — fuck, he almost moans against you. sugar and spice and everything nice — you smell like everything he's ever wanted to gorge himself on. he's reminded of the cheap, strawberry body spray you used to use back in high school — how the scent would catch on his nose when you walked past, how it lingered on his jacket when you brushed against him. he shivers.

he lifts his lips from your skin — lifts his nose from the cradle of your neck to give you a distracted, slightly disgruntled, "huh? what?"

it's only without the smell of you clouding his nose that he suddenly realises that you're squirming against him — the heat of your clothed pussy pressing against his hardened cock, layers of cotton and denim and linen between you both leaving you with only the slightest, most irksome hint of pleasure. even with his blindfold fastened over his eyes, it's all so much.

"just — i need something," you say, exasperated. your forehead's dewy with sweat, glasses slipping down the bridge of your pretty nose. "you've been at this for ages."

"ah, my bad." but he doesn't stop. how can he tear himself from your warmth, the heat of you radiating from your skin, your arms wound around his neck and fingers in his hair? how can he leave even a single inch of space between you, when your chest is heaving with excitement and the musky sweetness of your arousal is reaching his nose? he satisfies both your needs for stimulation with slow, curling rolls of his hips, dull pleasure tingling up his spine and leaving him shuddering. "i thought you were more patient."

"you — you're the one that dragged me in here," you say, even as your breathing gets heavier, even as your head falls back with a whine, baring the column of your neck to his greedy, seeking nose. "i told you i have plans, so unless you—!"

"alright, alright," he concedes, though all of your arguments about the time have been half-hearted at best. "don't you worry, i'll take good care of you — real good care."

"you sound like such a sleaze when you say stuff like that."

"mhm." for a moment, he lifts his head — and he doesn't have to look at his reflection mirrored in your eyes to know that his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed pink. you're not much better off — for all your whining and posturing, your proverbial claws aren't much more dangerous than those of a scrappy little kitten. beneath it all, your breathing is laboured, your blood vessels dilated. you smell sweeter, like your body is a ripening fruit or blooming flower, opening for him. your blood rushing to the surface of your skin, heating up the fragrance oils still dotted along your flesh, turns it all heady and head-dizzying.

you want him — you can deny it all you want, but he can see it clear as day. the reminder sends what little blood remains in his head straight to his cock.

"you smell sweet," satoru says, blank and dumb. "when you're horny."

for a moment, you pause. embarrassment — and arousal, though you probably won't admit it — has you locking up. a hint of bitterness turns your fragrance — like burning chocolate — before you huff suddenly, smacking at him until he begins to back up. "oh, my god — you're so shameless, satoru—"

"no, i'm serious! h—hey, stop!" he argues, wriggling until he's back in your good graces again. he dips his head to your skin again, teasing you with little nips along your neck. you'll see the bruises it leaves tomorrow and demand he make it up to you with sweets that he'll just have to eat with you, earrings that glimmer in garnet. for now, though, he’ll get a little serious.

"you get a little sweeter when you cum too, y'know," satoru coos. he tugs at his blindfold, blinking as unfettered light filters into his retina. it's sensory overload, overstimulating and overwhelming, but it's exactly what he wants: to see you, feel you, taste you, smell you — be engulfed by you in every way he can. as if drawn there, his hand sneaks between the tight fit of your bodies, slipping under the hiked-up hem of your skirt and petting at your underwear — soaked, as he’d expected, coating the tips of his fingers. "like syrup. i wanna smell you like that.”

his tongue peeks out over your pulse point, touch reaching up and up and up to that fantastic little ball of nerves he adores. you let out a moan so loud that even he’s taken aback. giddiness bubbles in the pit of his stomach — giddiness, horniness, it’s all the same to him — and he shoves his nose so hard into your skin he swears it’ll bruise. ah, there it is. he’s barely even touched you, too. it’ll be even better when he does.

“g—god, you’re horrible,” you say, arching into him, like you can’t bear to be apart for even a second.

“me?” satoru laughs. you’re distracting from the task at hand, though he usually doesn’t mind. he can’t help but respond, giving you your own attitude back a thousandfold. it’s just now, when it’s been so long since he’s gotten his fill of you, he’s just… a little impatient... “oi, don’t get all embarrassed — you always get so mean.”

“then stop saying things like that, and i won’t have to be — a—ah!”

satoru suckles at the cold-hardened flesh he’s just taken in his mouth — your mouth falling open in wonder and your chest heaving as he takes your nipple between two dull rows of teeth, humming. between his fingers and his mouth, you’ll soon be rendered almost completely silent, shuddering and twitching in what he knows will be a strong, satisfying orgasm — sweet with sweat, salt and musk gathering between your legs. looking up at him with glassy eyes and calling his name. his mouth waters.

he better get a move on, though: you have plans, after all.

[bumblebeebats]

Must scifi be "good"? Is it not enough to watch David Tennant and Catherine Tate run about, yelling? and also a nonbinary transwoman is there?

[ladybugkisses]

I would love to see a drawing of Ari picking up Rocky and him just being like, WTH.

Also, what does Ari think of the band and Wick, if she interacts with them?

i'd love to see that too, so i drew it! ♥️

as for the band + Wick, all had not so great first impressions but Ari eventually came around and thinks they're okay guys overall

you won't get her to admit she actually enjoys Zib's company, though

[plugnuts]

A second assassination attempt has hit the trump towers

[whatimdoing-here]

VIGIL | 2.01

I can tell you're pissed off. You're taking it out on the corners.

[herearedragons]

Varric: So... You and Chuckles, huh? I've got to admit, that's a twist I didn't see coming.

Aqun: I really can't tell what you mean by that.

Varric: Take that as a compliment. I'm happy for you two. Really.

Solas: Are you alright?

Aqun: Yeah. You were quick with that barrier. Thank you.

Solas: (softly) Of course.

Sera (if in party): (blows raspberry) Someone's Veil is getting wobbly.

Blackwall (if in party): Someone's under a spell alright.

Dorian (if in party): Someone's in good spirits.

Varric (if in party): Someone's Fade senses are tingling.

Cassandra (if in party): Someone's dreams are coming true.

Vivienne (if in party): Someone's coattails are on fire. Again.

The Iron Bull (if in party): Someone's barrier is coming down.

Cole (if in party): He's happy you're safe.

Aqun: (mutters) Everyone has an opinion on everything.

[abovetherainandroses]

pre-medley banter + patrick stalling + ALLIE (seattle 3/1/24)

[cobaltfluff]

so i started playing persona 4

where are the QoL features