#this is unedited :/

[adorasbuttcheek]

I originally wanted to post this panel by itself to let it speak for itself but... the follow up just transforms this into such a wonderful one-two punch...

[letternotekisses]

DID SOMONE SAY DBD?!?!

Let’s start strong with Valentine’s Day head cannons for yandere huntress maybe??🫣

Love is in the air anon ;p

Anna is well adjusted to the harshness of solitary life, but there was always a want for something else - a deep seated need for something warmer than the stiff wood of her axe handles. Something softer, homelier - something unmistakeably human. And it's all too coincidental that the Entity practically dropped you into her lap. Like a little gift, all for her? She was smitten with you from the get go.

You weren't as keen on the idea at first. Axes imbedded in the trees near survivor grounds with your name or initials on them, it felt like a vendetta rather than a secret admirer. Much to Anna's dismay, you weren't receptive of her little presents, no matter how much love she whittled into the hardy wood.

She couldn't fathom why any of her efforts weren't working, much the amusement of some of the more childish killers - ahem, Ghostface. Not until she spent some more time lingering around the shadowy treeline of your camp, and Anna realised that she may require a softer touch to interest you closer. Much like how her mother taught her to lure her hunts in with food, you must give to get.

Anna then instead starts leaving flowers instead of axes, firewood instead of dead birds - and more importantly, she starts turning her head a little more in trials. Nothing too obvious to displease the Entity, but plenty enough to let you slip free once or twice. And soon enough, your interest is snagged, not unlike a foxes leg in her hunters traps.

And soon enough the Entity starts rolling out her usual festivities, dolling the survivors up in blushing pinks and rousing reds for Valentine's Day, and the colours are so wonderfully easy to spot within Anna's woods. She couldn't be more delighted, on the fact that you were finally coming to her first, or on the idea of tearing that cute little heart-print blouse right off you. <3

[mrzombielover]

real price hours tn

NSFW warning! f!reader, porn no plot

“yeah, just like that… goood girl…” price groans as you take him fully, taking a large puff from the lit cigar he dangles. you whimper at his words, making him chuckle as he exhales smoke in your face.

“oh, you like that, huh?” he laughs, free hand running down your waist and coming to grab a fistful of your ass. “dirty girl…” you squeak as he slaps your ass.

you mewl when you start to move, letting out a shaky breath as you bounce agonizingly slow on his cock, still adjusting to the stretch. you throw your head back, a soft moan slipping past your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, letting a hand run through his hair and grip at the roots. he chuckles again, rolling his hips into you, drinking in every whine and gasp and moan that you give him. he takes another puff of his cigar, hand trailing from your ass around to your hip to rub soft circles into your clit. you keen at that, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

"captain!" you whine.

"shh, shh, baby," price shushes you gently, softly connecting his lips to yours as he breaths smoke out his nose. he swallows your moans as you let them into his mouth, and you feel dizzy against him as you roll your hips, greedily chasing the electrifying pleasure. you quiver around him, reduced to a whimpering mess as you're stretched out around his fat cock. he's all you can focus on, everything else dissolving but his length inside you and the smell of his musk and cigar.

"so perfect for me," he mumbles against your flesh, placing kisses before softly biting your neck.

"captain..." you moan again, bouncing sloppier now, more desperately.

"please!" it's almost a sob. you don't exactly know what you're begging for, but the plead leaves your lips anyway like a last prayer. Price laughs dryly, letting his eyes slip shut and head fall back against the headboard.

"you're so pretty when you whine. poor baby, you cant do it alone?" he teases, rolling his hips against yours. you moan louder now, falling forward slightly as he starts to fuck up into you. your back is arching against him, barley processing his words.

"come on, sweet girl," he says softly in your ear, his thumb on your clit making you throb and squeeze on him, hands searching for something, anything to grip on to. "thaaat's it.. just needed my help, huh?" he says soothingly as you dig your nails into his back.

"oh, god!" you squeak, letting a strangled cry into his ear.

"fuck! I'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a loud moan, all strength leaving your body as Price thrusts up, repeatedly abusing your g-spot. His fingers dig into your hip, other hand clenching his cigar so hard it nearly crumbles in his grip, but not a single part of your brain cares about that now. The orgasm hits you in shaky waves, reducing you to a throbbing, soaking, shaking mess as it washes over you.

"yeah, good girl," He says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as his pace slows. He takes one last puff before haphazardly dropping his cigar into the ashtray on his bedside table, not even giving you a chance to catch your breath before he's fully lifting you up and flipping you onto your back.

"can you give me one more, baby?"

[jimmyscanongf]

dragon belly burnt ends

laios touden x gn! reader

no warnings, except fluff and manga spoilers :)

————————————

“There you are! I see your feet under there!”

It makes Laios startle - his eyes come back into focus right as your smiling face parts through the green curtain surrounding him. Oh, it’s just you. He uncrosses his arms, comes away from the tree trunk he was leaned up against with a stretch and a grunt, and you step through the branches of the bush. He smiles at your awkward attempt to do so gracefully, without displacing the branches too much or getting scratched up. There’s a leaf and twig in your hair, he reaches up to pluck them out and discard them to the side.

“I walked all over to find you - god, there’s so many people around. Hey, why are you just here in this bush anyways?”

“I’m escaping,” his sentence broken by a yawn, “-from all the people for a little while. I’ve never had so many people trying to talk to me…” You close your eyes and nod along in acceptance.

“That’s fair- I’ve had to escape the crowd quite a bit myself these past few days.”

The little hollow is small, just enough for two people to stand in intimate quarters. There’s dappled sunlight on your face, a warm green glow all around, and the sounds of the great feast, voices in revelry, are muffled. Only a scant few inches separate your bodies - though his heart still quickened, Laios would have been much more nervous in this situation only a matter of weeks ago. But after his experience in the dungeon, all that he went through with you and the rest of the party, he feels changed. He sees it in you, too - the way you meet his eyes with ease and a gleam of confidence that was not there before. Significant enough that even he could tell the difference. It made him happy to see you this way.

So why are you looking at him like that, now, with your eyebrow raised, head cocked to the side?

He looks down and finally notices you’re carrying something in your hand; a square of waxed paper with two pieces of meat on top, thin strips rolled up into bite sized spirals and pinned with wooden skewers, glistening with brown glaze. A third one is poised between your index finger and thumb, being held out in offering.

“Are you alright, Laios?” You question, and he blinks back into focus, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, just lost in thought…” He feels heat on his face. “I must be more spent than I thought.”

“Maybe this will help you feel better!” You beam at him, and your smile strikes him right in the heart. “I bet you haven’t tried it yet- actually I know you haven’t because I just watched it come out of the smoker… But I bet you’ll love it!”

He lifts his hand, but you’ve already started raising your own hand up towards his mouth to feed it directly to him. His fingers go back to his side to fidget with the leg of his pants as he leans in, mouth wide. You bump the corner of his mouth, leaving behind a spot of sauce.

“Oops,” you giggle. But he has no time to think about how vibrant you are, because his mouth explodes with rich flavour when he pulls it from the skewer with his teeth, sweet and tangy spiced glaze covering the savoury, fatty deliciousness of the meat. He expects to chew, but his tongue pushes into the meat easily and the fat and muscle disintegrate equally in his mouth as his eyes widen.

“What is this?” He asks incredulously around his mouthful.

You grin at him. “Dragon belly! Other than that, I don’t know.”

Laios swallows, sad that it’s over so soon, though he’s already eyeing the next two pieces in your hand. “It’s so rich! And the way it melts in your mouth! This is great!”

“Right?!” You say in enthusiastic agreement, and offer up the remaining two bites from the palm of your hand. He takes one and devours it, forgetting to even savour it for its deliciousness, and his desperation to get it into his belly. “Take the other one, it’s all for you. I’ve had a lot already, I just wanted you to try it.”

All for you. He takes it from your hand. You crumple the wax paper, shoving it in your pocket to dispose of later, and watch him, gleaming in the filtered sunlight. He eats this one with intentionality, looks down at you with warmth, his mouth full. “I love you,” he thinks. It startles him to hear the words, even in his own head, the weight of that realization gripping his heart in his chest. His expression drops, but you don’t seem to notice.

In fact, you lift your hand and swipe your thumb across the corner of his mouth, and Laios freezes before you draw it away. And then you look down, pondering the spot of glaze with pursed lips. “Hm.” Evidently you hadn’t considered how you were going to get it off your own hand. You settle to just lick it off, and his heart flips in his chest. He feels electrified, swallowing the delectable bite down thickly. So close, so close…

He grips your wrist, still staring at your thumb before he raises his eyes to meet yours. Only a half step forward and he can feel your bodies touching. He is overwhelmed by his want.

“Laios…?” You question softly, smile fading, though he cant quite read the expression it faded to. But you’re not nervous, by the way you haven’t broken eye contact - at least he hopes. His heart is pounding. But if there’s any time to be bold, to take action, it’s now, right?

He leans in, a crawling pace that belies his trepidation, giving you every chance to back away. But you don’t push him or jerk back, so he tilts his head, eyes slowly fluttering closed - this is how you do it, right? Yet something catches him, right as he feels the breath from your parted lips on his own. Your eyes - he realizes you were still staring at him wide-eyed as he drew near, as his own eyes closed. Why were you staring at him?

He pulls back, eyebrows drawn, and yours go to match as he searches your gaze, heart sickly thudding under his sternum as his stomach tightens. He feels out of control now, internally cursing his correction, agonizing in the span of a second over whether he should’ve just gone with it. His options now are to retreat, or to question:

“Is this… Is this okay? Can I…” But the words falter. He can’t make the words “kiss you” leave his throat. His face and ears are burning, and he is starting to sweat under his collar.

You sigh and tilt your head, though your face doesn’t relax. He feels a spike of sick, cringing panic in his gut, until you open your mouth: “Please, Laios,” you insist breathily, “please kiss me…”

He blinks; with a sigh he is flooded with cool, sweet relief. “Oh…” He lets go of your wrist and raises his hand, tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, presses his calloused palm into your velvet soft jawline, fingers wrapped gently around the nape of your neck. Your eyes soften at his touch, your hand goes to rest on his bicep.

“It’s real now…” He thinks, feeling you gently squeeze his arm. “It’s actually happening…” But the look in your eyes feels wide open, he blinks into your warm gaze before finally shutting his lids and leaning in to press a stiff, chaste kiss to your lips, holding for a heart racing moment against your plush mouth, until he finally pulls away.

He can see you looking between each of his eyes, and suddenly you break into a smile and laugh. Both of your hands go to cradle the back of his head. He doesn’t have time to wonder why you’re laughing at him before you pull him towards you and meet his lips again, different now as you kiss him, this rolling and sucking motion that stokes up a fire in his chest. It’s an unfamiliar rhythm but he catches on, if a little sloppy and ungraceful, as he presses his face into yours with increasing fervour. The sensation of your fingers through his hair prompts him to cross his arms around your back and hug you close to his own body, a vain attempt to crush you into him and meld together.

He only pushes into you harder when he feels you retreat, chasing your mouth as you pat the back of his head. But finally you grip his hair and force him off, he whimpers in pain as you gasp for breath.

“What was that?” He questions, a little hurt and confused, though your bodies are still pressed together.

“Maybe you can breathe with that big nose between us,” your chest heaves, hungry for air, “but I sure can’t.” You smile, and your whole mouth glistens with your mixed saliva. You wipe it with the back of your hand. “Your mouth tastes like the dragon belly,” you muse, laughing breathily, and you lean into him. The feeling of you against him is nice.

“You just taste like saliva,” he remarks, and ponders for a moment because, it tasted almost like nothing and yet he only wanted more, more, more. “It’s very very subtle. Mostly tastes like nothing. Kind of like skin, kind of… mineral? Almost sweet, even,” he elaborates unprompted, fingers ghosting absentmindedly up and down your back. Almost sweet, because while it wasn’t necessarily sweet, there was a sensation of sweetness that exploded in his mind… who knew the taste of someone’s spit could be so addictive?

He finds you still looking at him, this time with a clear streak of amusement in your expression. He’s almost embarrassed, most people don’t exactly ask for the taste profile of their own saliva, but the feeling is dispelled when you trail your hand down his arm, to interlace your fingers in his.

“You make me want more of that dragon belly…” You sigh.

“Me too,” he nods, eyes closed to recall the flavour. and after a beat, he feels you pull him gently.

“Well, we ought to hurry, cause that stuff was going fast,” you say, already parting through the branches again and pulling him along, “but I’m sure they would spare whatever’s left for the King himself.” You turn your head and give him a sly smile.

Oh yeah, that’s why he was hiding. He cringes a little into the back of your head. Being king is cool and all, but he’s been feeling the weight of everyone’s lofty expectations.

Yet, the feeling of your hand is soothing, and he stares down at your interlocked fingers. With your hand in his, maybe he could face anyone.

[junosmindpalace]

His head aches directing his eyes toward the doorway, but Senku does anyway to get a glimpse at your figure.

Your fierce expression tells him you refuse to get any closer, as if punishment for the suffering he subjected himself on the dock of the Perseus just a few hours ago. Senku had caught a glimpse of you at the far back of the crowd when the crew had rushed him in from further ambush.

He remembers pain, a lot of it, Luna tending to him, and various members coming both to check on his condition and to receive instruction and advice. He’s found himself with a rare moment of true quiet and space for himself. Until you appeared, that was;

Angrier than he ever expected to see, yet he immediately knows why. The realization makes a frown settle over his own features, and he doesn’t dare break away from your tense gaze.

You strode towards him suddenly, hand slowly coming up in the air as if to punch him, tell him off with a disapproving finger, do something to express your fear and anger toward him for his stunt. All he did was stare with his mouth firmly planted in a deep frown, not wavering in his expression for a second even when you stopped suddenly by his side, keeping your hand in the air and staring at him with a fury hardly being kept in check. His stare almost challenged you to try and retort against the sacrifice he made, and oh how it made you wanna—

But then you sighed. Stepped back. Lowered your arm back to your side. Your brows creased upward in distress, and, oh, no, was your bottom lip quivering?

“You’re an asshole.”

“Well, isn’t that a pleasant way to greet a friend?”

“You shut up with that, I thought you—“

You halted your words, turning your back toward him as horrified eyes stared forward in an attempt to steel yourself. A hand ran down your face, stopping at your mouth. What a horrifying sight that was. Not even a sign of warning.

“C’mon,” he wheezed out with a slight upward curl of his lip. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

Yet the silence his remark was met with brought his lips back to a frown, a more melancholic expression. He called out your name and was met with nothing.

“I braced myself: what more could I have done?”

And you know he’s right. He’s being realistic. You have no right lashing out so aggressively toward him. If anything, you should be praising his bravery, his sharp thinking, his ability to still uphold witty banter with you in the state he’s in. But you can’t. Not when your racing heart hasn’t settled it’s violent thrumming against your ribcage, bruising it and your mental sanity, since the shot rang out. Not since you saw the blood spill out of him. Not since you saw the intense look of pain on his face.

So for now, you hate him for it. For all of it. Even though it wasn’t his fault. He anticipated it at least, so you hate him for it.

He calls for you again.

And finally, you look over your shoulder, eyes glassy and expression fierce. The sight makes Senku want to shiver.

“I did…what needed to be done…” he starts gently. “It’s up to you guys now. And I’ll help where I can.”

Ever the efficient one, that Senku. How it could infuriate you like nothing else. You would think him made of steel at times with the way seemingly nothing fazed him. But with the way you saw his blood pour out from him so quickly, the anguish on his face, it reminded you that he was more human than anyone you’ve ever met. So passionate, so full of life. Nearly childlike in the way he winced as every uncomfortable stir and breath he in and exhaled.

The tension in your face dropped. Senku’s own expression perked up, but mostly stayed firm as you approached him tiredly, pulling up the chair by his bed and taking a seat, hands hesitating as they reached for his.

He stared down at the space in between them, and then back at you just in time for you to raise your own exhausted gaze toward him. Don’t you dare push me away, they pleaded with him.

A little knock of his knuckles against yours gave you the permission you were looking for, and your carefully took his limp hand in both of yours, holding them gently. He chuckled a little as he stared upward, while your gaze remained steady on the bed, and offered a small squeeze in return, which in turn relaxed the tension in your shoulders.

Things were okay between you two. Things would be okay. The sentiment didn’t need to be voiced aloud.

[ohbo-ohno]

POLY 141 ??? dude ive been thinkin abt them long nd hard at lemme tell u… i have thoughts.

like they’re established. they’re all dating each other and after a mission they’re at a bar and that’s when they see u.

not sure how itd work but they most def kidnap reader and shes (v much so) in distress and keeps trying to break out but they wnt let her leave :(

i imagine soapgaz to always follow reader around like puppies and when she does smth they dnt like they arnt harsh w their punishments like ghostprice. they most def always give reader puppy dog eyes that sometimes make her cave.

ghostprice are the ones set to disciple you not only bc of their designation in the military but bc they dnt mind if u see them as thr bad guy at first.

poly141 make me insane and feral.

-🌙

well gee golly gosh if reader is overwhelmed with just simon and ghost she'd go CRAZY with all four

i NEED soap x gaz x reader. they would be ?!?!?!?!? i want frat boys fucking the new freshman looking to lose her virginity. seven minutes in heaven with gaz and soap sneaks in to have fun too. soap ties you up and blindfolds you and gaz sneaks in to take his turn with you. just two homies obsessed with blowing your mind

n e ways poly!141 kidnapping you below the cut:

gaz is less feral than soap but no less needy. they're constantly competing for your affection. soap lays his head on your stomach, gaz lays his head on your chest. soap gives you a footrub, gaz gives you a backrub. soap hand feeds you, gaz lifts your drink to your lips. always arguing about what you look cutest in. gaz prefers you in his clothes but soap prefers you naked. gaz puts his hat on you and soap gets unbelievably offended. the only thing they can agree on when it comes to you is how hard you need to be fucked

i am a firm believer in price being the only person in the world ghost is submissive to. not completely submissive, mind you, but he deters to him. price smoking a cigar in his recliner while ghost fucks you over the arm of the couch, telling him when to speed up and slow down, long puffs of smoke before he tells simon to make you come. soap and gaz on their knees at his feet like good dogs.

also price loooooves plopping his hat on your head. it's too big for you, drops down to cover your eyes and leaves you blind. fucks you in it and you keep scrambling to shove it up so you can try and see what's going on :(

price wouldn't use his belt on you. would just tug you over his lap and smacks your ass with his hand until you're nearly screaming

(price puts his cigars out on simon's tongue when he needs to be reminded of his place, when he gets a little too pushy with you or him)

[stufftippywrote]

Netflix & Chill chapter 4

(There's no smut in this chapter, just lovey dovey lovies.) Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[you didn’t think I was going to time skip after that chapter, did you?]

“Wei Ying, what’s wrong?”

Lan Zhan’s hand, gentle, on the back of his head. It just makes Wei Ying want to bury his head further in Lan Zhan’s chest and burst into tears. “Nothing,” he mumbles, and sniffs back another flood. God, he’s so confused. When did this happen? When did he start to fall for Lan Zhan? Why didn’t he feel any of this before?

Did you? a voice inside him says. Did you really not feel anything before?

He has three and a half years of memories to interrogate about this. Their first meeting, Lan Zhan telling him not to drink so much. Wei Ying deciding he was fun to tease. Their argument calming into a sort of banter. Even then, Wei Ying was terrible to him. He didn’t try to see Lan Zhan’s side of things, he just kept poking, like Lan Zhan was a child’s toy with big colorful buttons to push.

Was I fascinated by him, even then?

Fast forward. They’re friends by now. Lan Zhan has bought him dinner. Wei Ying is talking animatedly about something that happened in his sociology class. He keeps laughing at his own jokes. Lan Zhan gives him an appreciative chuckle now and then but otherwise stays silent, just gazing at him with those eyes that glint golden in the light. From the way Wei Ying is talking on and on, Lan Zhan might as well not be there at all.

I’ve really been a terrible friend. 

“What’s wrong.” Lan Zhan asks again—no, it isn’t an ask. It’s a demand. Wei Ying has to say something. He opens his mouth with no idea what’s about to come out.

“What are we even doing?” is what he hears, in his own voice, sounding a bit too plaintive. “What is this?”

Lan Zhan answers as Lan Zhan always does: straightforwardly. “You called it Netflix and chill.”

Wei Ying has to laugh a little, a bitter sound. “I did, didn’t I?” he says. “What an idiot I am. Lan Zhan, you know what that means, right?”

“I looked it up.”

“So you get that it means that we’re just fooling around. We’re not. You know. Boyfriends or anything.”

He nods. “I am aware.”

“And that’s okay with you?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t pause. It’s not a pause. But it’s the barest whisper of a shadow of a pause. “I am okay with whatever Wei Ying wants,” he says.

Can he infer some hope in that not-quite-a-pause? A part of Wei Ying’s brain wants to go there. But whenever he thinks he’s ready to say something, his mind rebels. You’re not good for him and you know that. He deserves so much better.

Wei Ying doesn’t have low self-esteem, as a rule. But right now he just wants to shrink down into the couch cushions and stay lodged there forever, like months-old gum. 

There’s warmth on his cheek. Lan Zhan’s hand is there. He’s turning Wei Ying’s face upward, not letting him hide in the comfort of his chest. Wei Ying is trapped, staring at him, those golden eyes burning into his own. His heart is pounding, and he’s acutely aware of every plane and angle on Lan Zhan’s face. Something about it loosens his tongue.

“Suppose I wanted--” he starts.

At the same time, Lan Zhan says, “Is this what--”

Silence. Any other time, Wei Ying would laugh, declare a jinx, tell Lan Zhan he owes him a dollar. Now, he can’t. The spark of courage that had momentarily opened his lips has died out.

Thank God, Lan Zhan is willing to go on. “Is this what you want?” he asks. “Do you want something else?”

His thumb rubs a slow caress into Wei Ying’s cheek. IT’s just enough encouragement, just enough to lift a glittering piece of hope into his chest.

“Yeah,” he says, “I don’t know. I was just thinking. What-- what if we tried being a thing?”

He expects Lan Zhan to repeat a thing? with a blank expression. But Lan Zhan stays silent, thumb going still on Wei Ying’s cheek. His whole body has actually gone still; Wei Ying’s not sure if he’s breathing.

Agh, the tension! Wei Ying regrets saying a thing. “Ah, but I’d be no good at that sort of thing,” he declares, painting a grin onto his face. “Forget it, forget I said anyth—”

The scent of Lan Zhan surrounds him. Lan Zhan is holding him, both arms thrown around him trembling. Lan Zhan buries his head in Wei Ying’s shoulder. “I would like it,” he says, sound vibrating into Wei Ying’s bare skin, “very much, if we could be a thing.”

They have touched so, so much since this whole thing began, but nothing has been more intimate than this embrace. Happiness is bursting like a sunrise through Wei Ying, an effervescent emotion that’s extending to the tips of his toes and up through to the top of his head. How could he have doubted he wanted this? He wants it so much. He wants to be with Lan Zhan. He always has. The knowledge blooms through him like heat, spilling everywhere.

But… but! “Why?”

He’s pushed into Lan Zhan’s chest so firmly the word almost doesn’t make it out. But he doesn’t understand. He has to know. “Why?”

Lan Zhan’s embrace loosens, and he pulls back enough that they can look at each other. “Why do you ask why?” Lan Zhan says, and he really looks as though he has no idea. 

“Because … because .. because look at me, Lan Zhan.”

“I am looking.”

Okay, yes, he is, but it’s a rhetorical look-at-me. “Stop that. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”  He’s having fun interrupting, isn’t he? Damn it. If only that weren’t so cute of him.

Still. Enough of that. “Well if you’d let me say something—” and for once, Lan Zhan does. “Look, what I mean is, look at me! I’m not even a good friend to you. Why would you want me to be a boyfriend?”

This time, Lan Zhan really doesn’t seem to understand. “Wei Ying is the best friend,” he says, unironically, without a single shred of doubt in his voice. 

It makes Wei Ying feel like an absolute heel.

“How?” he bursts out. “I don’t even remember your birthday. I do nothing but talk about myself. I don’t ever ask you any questions about your life. How could you possibly want to be with me? I’m the literal worst.” He buries his head in Lan Zhan’s shoulder, which is also the worst possible thing to do, because it’s just using Lan Zhan again after he’s just confessed that he uses Lan Zhan.

Above him, Lan Zhan’s voice is soft. “Do you remember when I was sick, sophomore year?”

Wei Ying pulls away, blindsided. “What?”

Is Lan Zhan smiling, just a little? “Do you remember?” he repeats.

Wei Ying wracks his brain for the memory. Yeah, that’s right. Lan Zhan got sick, so Wei Ying headed off campus to his apartment and climbed up the fire escape to sneak into his room. And then he—

He flushes. “Yeah, I remember. I made you eat that super spicy soup, and you nearly choked on it. I made everything worse.”

“You came over to take care of me,” says Lan Zhan.

“Yeah, and I sucked at it!”

“You came over,” Lan Zhan says again slower, “to take care of me.”

Okay. So yeah, he did, he can’t deny that. But it takes more than one bowl of soup and too much sriracha to be a good friend. “All right,” he mumbles, pouting a little. “That was one time.” 

Lan Zhan doesn’t miss a beat. “Does Wei Ying remember when I missed the last train?”

That was this year. Last month. The subway doesn’t run all night, and Lan Zhan was in the computer lab perfecting his project. 

He goes on. “You told me to come over, and you slept on the floor.”

Lan Zhan’s getting at something, Wei Ying knows, but he’s wrong. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have a place to stay. What else was I supposed to do?”

“You slept on the floor.”

“I’m good at sleeping in weird places. You’re not. Of course I would let you have the bed. Lan Zhan, would you cut it out? Okay, so I was passably nice to you a couple of times. It doesn’t change the fact that most of the time, I’m kind of a crappy friend.”

Lan Zhan puts a hand on the crown of his head as though admonishing him. “You are not.”

“So, what, you’re okay with me going on about myself all day? And talking so much you can’t get a word in edgewise? And bragging about—”

Pat, pat, goes the hand on his head. “Yes.”

“Why?” Wei Ying catches his gaze. 

The tenderness in Lan Zhan’s eyes bring him to a complete standstill.  He sucks in a breath and holds it. 

Lan Zhan’s hand drifts down from the top of his head to his hairline, his ear, his cheek. “Because I love you,” he says.

Because I love you. 

No drama, no pain, no longing. Just a simple fact. Spoken as evenly as if it were the sky is blue.

Lan Zhan loves him. Simple as that.

The happiness, that euphoria that Wei Ying had tried his best to subdue earlier, comes roaring back like thunder in his ears. He can’t hold it back now, and the emotion puts a grin onto his face that he can’t suppress. His eyes are watering. The tears he can hold back; the smile he absolutely can’t. He throws his arms around Lan Zhan’s shoulders, presses his face into his neck. “Lan Zhan,” he says, “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, are you for real? Do you mean it?”

Lan Zhan’s lips brush his skin. “Yes.”

“You love me? Like, like you’re in love with me?”

“Yes.”

“You were in love with me this whole time? Like, while we were Netflix and chilling?”

Lan Zhan’s hand rests on his upper back stroking back and forth there in a wonderful wave of warmth. “Yes.”

“And…” oh, there comes the despair again, but Wei Ying can’t sustain it this time, can’t possibly make himself miserable when he’s so damn happy. “And I said we weren’t boyfriends, and you were okay with that too, because you loved me?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan kisses his cheek, his chin. Wei Ying leans back and Lan Zhan captures his mouth in one brief, hot kiss that means everything. “Will Wei Ying please be my boyfriend?”

Wei Ying might very well explode with happiness. 

“Yes,” he says, and kisses Lan Zhan’s mouth again. “Yes, yes, yes,” a kiss with each yes, Lan Zhan’s lips pursing against his, the heat starting to rise between them again. “Lan Zhan, I love you too—I didn’t know it—but I do—and I do.” Lan Zhan ravishes him in a kiss so deep and searing that Wei Ying thinks he’ll break apart. Lan Zhan’s tongue in his mouth is so sweet and strange, that big muscle licking into him in a way that sends excitement spiraling into his core. He’s hard again, he wants Lan Zhan to lay him down and do whatever to him, but his heart is also singing with a kind of magic that makes everything seem fuzzy and sweet. If this is love, he might die of it.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, over and over, half of his words blunted with kisses. He tries to wriggle away, but Lan Zhan’s holding him tightly. At last he has to take both palms and push against Lan Zhan’s chest to break them apart. “Lan Zhan, will you give me ten minutes?”

Those gorgeous, talented lips of his are slow in relaxing. “Ten minutes for what?” he asks, the words coming out between labored breaths.

“I am going to get dressed,” Wei Ying says, “and I am going to go out, and I am going to get the stuff we need, and then I am going to come back here and get undressed again and you are going to fu—” He stops himself. “You are going to make love to me. Okay with you?”

Lan Zhan pauses. Then he smiles in a way that can only be called beatific.

It’s a stunningly beautiful smile. Wei Ying wants to snap a photo and frame it and put it on his bedside table to look at every day.

“Yes,” he says, one more time.

[nottskyler]

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom called Nathan. The people lived happily together for the most part, but there were occasional issues between the non-Christian and Christian populations. One day, a Christian advisor named Saul was appointed to the King.

Saul had seen a non-Christian use the Christian bathroom (they were divided such because at the time of the founding of the kingdom, the non-Christians preferred squat toilets). He was severely offended that the great name of Christianity was defiled. He presented a proposition to the King that made using the wrong restroom illegal. In order for this proposal to become a decree, they had to agree upon a definition of Christian, and, as happened many times before in history, the acceptance of the Nicene Creed was the determining factor. Then the decree was declared in all corners of the kingdom.

The members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (to be abbreviated as Mormon for that was how the common Christian of Nathan viewed them) were appalled by this declaration for this excluded them from the definition of Christian and they had been using the Christian bathrooms ever since establishing the first branch there fifty years ago. Some complied, others filed a lawsuit against the decree and it was put on hold until it could come to trial.

The trial came. The Mormons showed evidence that they had been using the restrooms without incident for years, that using the non-Christian restroom made a mockery of their faith in Jesus Christ, and that it would be better to distinguish between porcelain thrones and squat toilets than by religion. But the courtroom acted as if they never heard a single one of their arguments when Saul took the stand and spoke to the Christian court that Christians were good people who promised to do no harm and any time a non-Christian like these Mormons stepped foot in the bathrooms the Christians were in danger. It was best to leave the non-Christians to harm each other in the non-Christian bathroom. The court didn’t allow the Mormons another rebuttal where they were sure that proving that illegal acts are still illegal whether or not it happens in the bathroom would help their case. The court held the law as just and the decree took effect immediately.

A group of Mormons staged a sit-in, where they sang songs about Christ while occupying the Christian bathrooms. They were immediately imprisoned if they refused to write a public notice in agreement of the Nicene Creed. Those who failed to do so, which was the majority of the protestors, were thrown in jail and fed a poison because it was nicknamed Mormon-feed.

Mormons had to feel like they were denying their faith by going into the non-Christian bathroom every time they were in public or hide their identity as members of the Church and go into the Christian bathrooms and hope to not get caught. They felt uncomfortable staying in public for they remembered how quickly they were rejected by their fellow Christians. Also, they didn’t want to use any restroom where they would be risking prison or denying their faith.

But the persecution didn’t stop there. Another decree came that made it illegal to proselyte non-Christian faiths. Another that banned any declaration of belonging to a non-Christian religion in public where children might see or hear. Another closed the Mormon Church buildings. Another made it a crime to exist in public as a Mormon. And they never recognized the Mormon faith as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

This didn’t stop the true believers and there were still converts in this dark time. For people are drawn to truth even when it is rejected by society. But they couldn’t hold jobs, were lonely, and many died in prison due to the poison.

Oh what a wicked kingdom, you declare in response to this story. Except this is your kingdom and the United States. For this is a tale like unto Nathan’s to King David. “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.” Matthew 25:45

[bloomyblemy]

my opinion on cumplane

My observation (from what I remember so I might be wrong) about cumplane

I don’t like how SY(as much as I love him) really talks to him?? Cause sometimes it DOES seem like he hates him instead of viewing him as a friend , and yes I know that friends bully each other sometimes and that all friendships are different but like?? Most of the time it looks to me like SY is bullying SQH and like I’d love it if it’s because he internally thinks that “it’s SQH  fault that their in the novel forced to make difficult choices , it’s his fault that he’s in the villains body so yes he deserves all that I say to him because if he didn’t write such an awful novel WE  wouldn’t  be forced to fix it “ while also thinking “ he’s the only one who I can talk about the original world about without thinking I’m crazy he’s  the only one that knows so I have  to stay with him or else I’ll go insane “ (or at least that’s how I think it is) 

Anyway with SQH he gets(bullied???(picked on????)  by literally everyone  because apparently every single PL thinks he’s pathetic (and well he IS but he’s. Also NOT) I just think that it’s kinda to far to even have his (friend????(transmigarator pal???(the only thing that makes him think that everything he remembers was actually real  and he did actually have another life( someone that’s not forcing him to do things even though he’s scared because whatifhegetscaughtwho’dkillhimfirsttheotherPLor the system)  anyway all I’m saying it gets sad when SQH is just constantly picked on from his coworkers  his lover and even his friend(??)(not to say that SQH isn’t a rat bastard still I love him but he ALSO isn’t without his faults(

Anyway personally I like these idiots becaus their bastards (but I’d also love to yk see them get to know eachother without only one being the victim ) bcs lets be honest here we really should’ve gotten them being BFF who bully eachother but defends the other from other people (or maybe this could be lovers I am NOT gonna complain)

[blogthebooklover]

They Meet At the River's Edge

Author's Note: Hey guys! We are now officially a week away from the release of Kingdom of the Planet of the Ape!!! Here's a special treat: a fanfic one shot featuring Mae and Noa, inspired by Disney's Pocahontas. Edit: Great news, guys. It is now available on Wattpad! I put a link in the description box!

Noa pulled in the reins of his horse, his grip tightening along the leather.  He sniffed the air slightly, scenting it for anything out of the ordinary or for any other predators.  His mount was getting agitated and he couldn’t understand why.  The colt shook its head side to side, Noa could feel the back muscles tense from under his legs.  The young chimp leaned forward to pet the horse’s neck, trying to calm the creature down.

He surveyed the area again, sniffing the air once more for the possible threat.  There, he picked up on the scent, it was a human.  

What was a human doing all the way out here?  He wondered to himself while taking notice of the surrounding woods by the river.  There were tall weeds and large rocks dotting along the bank.  He was way ahead downstream, about five feet from where this potential threat might be.  He exhaled through his nostrils, his decision was made.  

The young chimp pulled on the reins again, turning his steed around to the trees surrounding the river.  He spotted a small patch of shrubs lining the riverside, and led his horse to it.

Noa had pressed himself against the steed’s back, silently hoping he was blending in with the environment.  He exhaled through his nostrils again, trying to slow down his beating heart.  There!  In the reeds, there was movement!  He felt his hackles stand along the length of his back, and reached for the spear that was fastened to his satchel, ready to confront the potential threat in the water.  The young ape motioned his mount forward in the direction of the reeds, his spear ready to throw.  

But he did not.

Emerging from the reeds was a female human.

He slowly lowered the spear when the human crawled out of the shallow water, and stood up at full height.  The female wore ragged clothes, but they were strange attire compared to the other feral humans.  The top covered the torso, only baring her shoulders and the bottoms were long to the ankle.  She was very pale in complexion, with dirt and mud covering her arms and face.  There was a scar on her left shoulder.  Her hair was long and covered with mud from the river.  Her eyes were the color of the sky, and she was staring at his own golden jade colored eyes.

There was only the sound of the leaves rustling in the trees.  And the sound of his breath exhaling through his lips.  He couldn’t help but notice the way the female was looking at him.  

Like they were equals.

All of the sudden, she took off in a run, climbing out of the water and into the surrounding forest.  Noa let out a surprised gasp, and steered his horse in the direction that the human ran off.  

Mae ran as fast as her legs could take her.  Her bare feet burned from the cuts she gained from the sticks and thorns all along the ground.  Her lungs felt like they were on fire.  She ran and ran until she came upon a clearing deep in the woods.  She heard the hooves of the horse behind her come to a halt.

She glanced around for a chance to hide and escape.  There was nothing in the clearing other than the tall grass and wildflowers.  

“Wait,” a voice called out to her.  The young woman turned around slowly, it was the ape from the river.  He climbed down from his horse, the spear still in hand.  Her gaze met with his briefly before turning it to the weapon in his hand.  The ape took notice of this, and tossed the spear away from them.  The male presented his palms to her, indicating that he was not a threat.  

“It is…all right,” the male spoke as softly as he could.  The young ape took a step closer to the human female, “I…want to…help you.”

Mae stared at the young chimp’s hands, so human like but different. She looked around for a way to escape should she need to.

Noa knew that feral humans could not speak, but from the way her eyes looked at him, he could tell there was an intelligent creature within.

The wind rustled the leaves in the trees and the fur on Noa’s shoulders, and the female’s disheveled hair.  The young ape slowly reached out his hand to her.  The female’s blue eyes glanced down at the outstretched hand.  She slowly stretched out her own hand and placed it in the young chimpanzee’s.  

He closed his fingers gently around hers as best as he could, he knew apes were much stronger ithan humans.  And he didn’t want to hurt her, truly.  

Noa pulled her closer to him until he could practically feel the fur on his chest brushing against her shirt. He felt a small smile form on his lips. The female's eyes drifted toward his mouth and back up again. She returned that same smile.

Like an echo.

Yes, that will be her name, Noa decided.

[orphyd]

YOU'RE JOKING??????????

[cavernsofdarkness]

Armin got an update...

[aoioozora]

Clair de Lune is magical...

Imagine you and Arthur ride out into the night and you're sitting right behind him on his horse, holding on tight. He brings you to your favourite place, where the two of you have secret little trysts and rendezvous.

It's a small lake, surrounded by green grass and pebbled banks. Crickets and frogs are singing, a breeze is whistling, the lake water is quietly rippling, and the full moon is gently shining over the surface of the water, brightening up the area and especially your eyes.

Arthur gently slides his hand around your waist and guides your hands until your one hand holding his and the other is on his shoulder.

"Dance with me," he says softly.

Your hand squeezes his shoulder. "But there's no music."

"Your voice is music, so sing for me," he answers with a pleading grin that you can't refuse.

And so you happily oblige him. You softly sing a romantic song, enough for only the two of you to hear. The two of you start slowly moving to the melody of your voice, and he guides your steps.

He closes his eyes, savouring the moment. His head lowers slightly, brushing his scruffy cheek with your smooth one. Your singing is loud yet soft in his ear, and far from unpleasant.

He moves his face slightly, taking his scruff out of the way to make place for his lips. They pressed softly against your jaw, leaving a kiss so light that it put a white cloud to shame.

You squeezed his shoulder again, and your arm moved to wrap loosely around his neck. He welcomed you moving closer. More kisses on your jaw as you kept singing and dancing with him.

Your eyes fluttered to the lake, and the rippling reflection of the moon on it. If only you and he could walk on water, and dance in the reflection. You paused your singing to voice out this thought.

"I don't know about you, darlin', but I'm sure already dancing in the reflection of the moon," he answered, keeping his cheek pressed to yours, "And you're the moon to me."

You couldn't help but giggle. "That's so cheesy," you complained but turned your face slightly to kiss his cheek.

His chuckle vibrated against your neck. "You're my moon. Beautiful and more addictive than the finest Moonshine."

[approximateknowledge]

lesbians

that is all

[spiralfucker]

You can see how fresh/ healthy I am from my eyes/face /the way I look

[xawkward-ariesx]

It sits on the tip of her tongue, burning in the back of her throat like bile; Bad Wolf Bay. A constant buzzing in the back of her mind since she heard the words, a desperate need to make them mean something. Because they do, they must. Why else should they exist in a parallel universe that the TARDIS should never have fallen into, if not for a purpose? A message to lead her back to the Doctor once before, why not once more? There were coincidences that couldn't be ignored here. Her memories of destroying the Dalek emperor returning to her as she stared down the cult of Skaro. The werewolf in Scotland recalling her as the Bad Wolf. Twice was a coincidence, thrice was a pattern. The pieces had been laid out for her.

There was a way back. There had to be. Why else would she have left a message for herself? She had seen all of time and space, every timeline conceivable and deemed it necessary to leave these pieces for herself. It had to mean something. She couldn't allow herself to ignore this glaring neon sign if there was even just a possibility that she could save the Doctor in some way.

'The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse.'

So? Absorbing the time vortex should have killed her, but it hadn't. Instead she'd left messages for her future herself, her life secured even in that moment of burning. And in return the Doctor had burnt up a sun to give her once last message.

She was dead. Back home, Rose Tyler had officially died. But she should have died the moment she became the Bad Wolf. She should have died a dozen times over. A ghost couldn't be killed so what did she have to lose now? She was already gone.