#this magnificent fucking book

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

both this book and the song it's based off fucking ruuuuuuule

The Deep

Rivers Solomon

Yetu holds the memories for her people--water-dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women thrown overboard by slave owners--who live idyllic lives in the deep. Their past, too traumatic to be remembered regularly is forgotten by everyone, save one--the historian. This demanding role has been bestowed on Yetu. Yetu remembers for everyone, and the memories, painful and wonderful, traumatic and terrible and miraculous, are destroying her. And so, she flees to the surface escaping the memories, the expectations, and the responsibilities--and discovers a world her people left behind long ago. Yetu will learn more than she ever expected about her own past--and about the future of her people. If they are all to survive, they'll need to reclaim the memories, reclaim their identity--and own who they really are.

(Affiliate link above)

[sexymikayla3]

[cherisheachother]

hell bent plot summary

[sin-sidejob]

DEEP INHALE i wanted to draw something cool because demon AB activated my neurons, but i did this and i didnt like it and i got upset but i still wanted you to have it, please accept my humble offering, okay byeeeee runs away

YOU—

YOU DREW ART ABOUT WHAT I WROTE??

I QUITE LITERALLY CRIED, I ACTUALLY DID

Oh beloved I’m in complete awe and just absolutely drowning in love right now from this as AN ACTION ALONE?? but your ART?

THE PINSTRIPE SUIT THE CUFFLINKS AND NAILS THE HORNS AND THE EYEESSSS you got the aesthetic and the visual feel down so perfectly it’s like you absorbed the energy I typed down upon my keyboard good fucking lord.

This is literally like one of the best things I’ve ever encountered both as something I’ve received and also just fanart in general AND I NOW CAN SAY SOMEONE HAS MADE FANART ABOUT MY WRITING THATS A WRITERS DREAM YOU DID THAT — YOU DID THAT OH MY GOD

Also what in the FUCK do you mean by humble this is a fancy full course meal but the plates are full size not those tiny ass portions this is humble by no means

(I will give you a firstborn or cook you dinner or both what in the actual fuck)

Link to fic: Insidious Inside Job - Halloween Pt. 2

[tenrose]

So the critics were right about the secret history... It was good.

[xxlumos]

This is going to be an unpopular post probably, hate post even, according to some of you. Yes I am a hater now.

Spoilers, kinda, for the Mandalorian season 3.

I kind of disliked the first episode of the new season. There I said it.

Alright, it is the first episode and sets the tone and story for the rest of the season. But after knowing the other two first episodes, this one falls flat, in. my. opinion. Remember that before you come for me.

And by that I mean the story, the dialogue, the setting, the colors, the cgi … it all feels so … “disneyfied”.

I know mando was always about side quests, and how that plot leads to another, but this episode had like no depth? “Oh I have to go there to get that? Alright!”. Also, I’m sorry, but the cliche catchphrases “Never trust a pirate” made my eyes roll. And I know we love fan service, trust me I do too, but I can’t hear “This is the way” anymore.

I know it’s a “kids show”, and the mouse tries to make merch off of everything, but knowing how good season one and two were, I have to say I am disappointed. Still gonna watch the whole season though.

[bullseyelover]

Q: When you get the role, what were your impressions of Benjamin Poindexter before you had to live in his skin and peel back those layers?

A: Well, obviously, there’s a pretty big mythology around this character. So, you can’t ignore ignore that. That said, Erik Oleson, the showrunner, he had something pretty close to a carte blanche in developing a backstory and really developing a more intimate and intricate psychology for the character. You have a certain version of the character that exists in the comic book, but I’d like to think you get a really more fleshed out version. You’re getting to really spend some time with him this season on the show and hopefully in future seasons. So, I think part of the excitement for me was really getting to learn about him as I read more scripts. And of course as an actor, that just enriches just a bigger understanding of what his motivations are and where he’s going — what his arc is. I think part of what makes the character so cool is that when you meet him, he’s a troubled guy clearly, but he’s also good guy. He’s on the right side of the law, and he’s fighting the good fight. He’s working with the FBI, and for all intents and purposes, he’s a hero. What this season charts is his being pulled from a better nature into a darker nature, and Wilson Fisk is a big part of that.

Wilson Bethel for 411 Mania

[bakugosgothhoe]

"But your brain is still trying to process how someone who looks like he volunteers at retirement homes can be so...ripped."

This fucking sent me LMFAO. How is this so fucking accurate?

This was what got me to pay closer attention to this fic. This just describes Yuuji to a T. Just fucking perfect. Fantastic.

₊˚⊹｡ it's a match! | itadori yuuji

wc: 1.8k

summary: the guy you match with on a dating app is too good to be true. 

contains: gn!reader, non-curse au, athletic trainer yuuji, dating apps, megumi and nobara cameos

a/n: this is such a projection of my insane attraction for yuuji + a few songs i associate with this fic and him: mariposa - peach tree rascals, sunshine - kyle, miguel, sunkissed - khai dreams

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event prompt: finally saying yes to that nice guy you’re afraid is too good to be true

Itadori Yuuji. Athletic Trainer. 24. Loves dogs, exploring nature, cheat day meals, and a good workout!

Pink hair, wide eyes, bright smile—the kind that can’t possibly be rehearsed; the photo on your screen is candid, edges blurred by movement but the center clearly in focus. 

He’s cute, you think. Enough for you to scroll further down to get to know more about him. 

The second photo you land on is definitely something; your eyes widen and you swear you hear yourself gulp a little. On your screen, crouched low, is this same Itadori Yuuji smiling in between a golden retriever and a husky; he has an arm wrapped around each dog, bringing them close as their tongues stick out in the summer heat. 

And you’re pretty sure it’s summer because this Itadori Yuuji guy also happens to be shirtless, towel slung around his neck as strands of pink hair cling to the sweat on his forehead. That, and the trees behind him glisten underneath the sunlight—vibrant green. 

Considering the bigger picture, the photo is adorable. Cool. Absolutely heartwarming even.

But your brain is still trying to process how someone who looks like he volunteers at retirement homes can be so… ripped. 

You scroll some more. 

And after two question prompts, one muscle tee gym photo (which is way more attractive than shirtless, by the way), and one group photo–a girl with short hair and a pretty boy with unruly black hair–, you’ve concluded that this Itadori Yuuji guy is a picture-perfect example of a kind of boy-next-door. 

You say kind of because you learn that his ‘typical sunday’ is waking up at dawn to take his and his bestfriend’s dogs out for a hike. You also say kind of because the most surprising fact about him is that he’s been a stunt double because he knows how to do parkour.

It feels like an illusion, as if someone so down-to-earth and seemingly friendly, living just eight kilometres away from you is being dangled right under your nose. 

He’s way too good to be true.

So when you press ‘like’ to his answer for the prompt ‘typical sunday’ and comment, “Cool! Are these the same dogs as the one in your photo?”, you definitely do not expect to be matched a few minutes later. 

.

To your surprise, you and Yuuji get along swimmingly. 

There’s a reason dating apps are not messaging apps, and you both find out when your chat page begins to lag after a series of 100+ messages in the span of 10 minutes. 

So, you swap numbers. 

And it’s good—way too good. 

It’s unbelievable how easy it is to talk to him, how fun. There’s never an awkward lull and he always replies enthusiastically, never too late and never too early. If others are walls, Yuuji is a trampoline—bouncing off your energy and returning what you throw at him.

You learn that not only is he a kind of boy-next-door, but a golden retriever boy too. And you don’t really know what to do or how to feel about that realization. 

5:47 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji

> [attachment] 

> cheat meal today!! 

The attachment opens to a photo of him using french fries as a moustache, along with a giant burger set on a plate in front of him. Despite the very obvious distraction of his biceps flexing while his arms cross in front of his chest, you chuckle and roll your eyes.

It’s an inside joke—kind of. You mentioned once that you only found out when you were 13 that french fries did not in fact come from the French. 

5:48 p.m. 

< ha ha ha 🙄

You straighten up in your chair, stretching your back until you hear it crack.

< late lunch or early dinner? 

5:49 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> late lunch!

> had the whole team in a while ago then got a workout in right after!

5:50 p.m. 

< good reward? 

5:50 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> good enough

> would be better with some company though!

Herein lies the problem. 

You stare at your screen, biting your bottom lip as you watch the little bubble move as he types. 

5:51 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> only if you aren’t busy or anything!!

This is the second time Yuuji has tried to ask you out in the month and a half of you both talking; the first time was just completely wrong timing, but this one—you have nowhere else to be and you actually can go to him.

5:54 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> no pressure!! 

And yet—

Your fingers move faster than you can think. 

5:55 p.m. 

< still caught up at work, sorry 😞

< next time!! 

You can’t even explain why you feel so hesitant to meet him. 

5:56 p.m.

< eat enough for the both of us for now 😌

—you groan, dropping your forehead down on your desk. 

To be honest, you aren’t sure what to call the fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Is it butterflies? Nerves kicking in? Fear? 

5:57 p.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> that’s okay!! i ordered a milkshake too

> i’ll drink it in your spirit 🫡

It’s confusing, because he’d confessed that he’s never done dating apps before, isn’t so sure how it goes; that his friend was solely responsible for the creation of his account because why not? 

He’d admitted that he wasn’t too keen on it because he wasn’t really looking, but he’s glad he agreed because otherwise, he wouldn’t have met you. 

And you think, for someone who ‘isn’t so sure how it goes’, he’s actually pretty smooth. 

So, maybe you have trust issues.

And maybe, he’s just so sweet—about this, about everything, that you can’t figure out if he’s just really nice or if he’s flirting. 

.

.

.

“Kugisaki, I think I’m being rejected.” 

“Huh?” Nobara looks up midbite, face scrunching into confusion. Megumi raises his eyebrow from the side. 

“Yeah,” Yuuji shrugs, pouting as he swirls his chopsticks around, “maybe they don’t like me that way. Why else would they be avoiding a meet-up?” 

Nobara clears her throat, setting her chopsticks down as she straightens her back against the booth. Her fingers clasp together on the desk. 

“Itadori.” 

Yuuji looks up as Nobara shoots him a look. 

“No.” 

Megumi slurps on his soup.

“Phone.” Nobara reaches an arm out, palm up as she waits. 

Once she grabs a hold of the device, she taps on his text thread with you, scrolling up and up and up as if to prove a point. For even more evidence, she goes to your socials, reading the exchange of compliments you both have left on each other’s Instagram stories. 

“Maybe they just see me as a friend, you know?” 

“Itadori, I did not curate your profile for someone to tap on it because they ‘see you as a friend’.” 

The table is quiet—even Megumi’s stopped eating, cheek resting on his palm.

“You cannot tell me that someone tapped on your profile after seeing that bait photo of you with your dog and Fushiguro’s dog because they wanted to ‘just be friends’.” 

Yuuji has nothing else to say, eyes wide and mouth completely shut as Nobara goes on to explain (air quotes and all) how his profile is the quintessential design of a boy-next-door who anyone is bound to fall for. 

Only when she’s done, having exposed every single detail about your relationship (friendship?) that Yuuji never even knew she knew, does Megumi speak. 

“I wouldn’t be talking to someone everyday for three months straight if I didn’t like them that way.” 

.

.

.

You’re horrible. 

Yuuji should honestly just stop talking to you at this point. 

You’ve declined a meet-up three times for god’s sake. 

Each time, he’s been so nice about it too, telling you that it’s okay, you don’t need to worry about it. That he’ll definitely treat you to a big meal when you finally do meet—to make up for all the wrong timings. 

He’s not the problem, it’s you. 

Yuuji hasn’t replied to your text since yesterday, and you honestly wouldn’t blame him if he completely stopped because, why bother if his advances have been blocked every single time anyway? 

You’d get it, would completely understand if he ghosted you now. 

But… there’s no denying the way your stomach drops when you think about it. 

You’ve clicked open your phone five times in the past 10 minutes, and every time it vibrates, you rush to check it, hoping it’s him. 

This is the last time, you swear to yourself—the sign. 

If he asks you again one more time, you’ll finally do it. No more excuses, no more chickening out at the last minute. 

(You pray to whatever god is out there that he does.

And just as you’re about to go to bed, a notification pops up)

.

12:03 a.m. 

Itadori Yuuji 

> hey! slr!! someone on the team got injured so we had to rush him in

> it was a whole thing

> but i hope your back’s doing better! are the stretches i sent helping?

12:05 a.m. 

Itadori Yuuji

> also no pressure at all but there’s a game this saturday in our area

> was wondering if you’d like to drop by? 

> no worries if you’re busy though! 

> just let me know so i can get a pass for you 🫡

.

.

.

The cafe you agreed to meet at is busier than you expected, ceramics clinking and the coffee machines working double time as an influx of customers line up by the cashier. 

You’re thankful for the noise, the endless chatter around you drowning out each rapid pulse of your heart beat. 

Do you bow? Shake his hand? Wave?  

You’re so nervous, you might not even get a word in at all. 

It should be any minute now, based on his texts. 

You do your best to distract yourself, looking around the cafe and fiddling with the straps of your bag.

But the doors swing open, and you turn to see who’s come in—

It’s him. Itadori Yuuji in the flesh. 

The guy you’ve spent the past few months talking to, laughing at his jokes and sharing pieces of your day-to-day with. 

As he looks around for you, you take a few minutes to soak in this moment. Still too good to be true: black polo shirt hugging the expanse of his chest, his pink hair styled boyishly; there’s a natural brightness to him that draws you in, almost like his personality shines outward, charming you the more you look at him. 

—and when your gazes meet, he smiles, eyes crinkling, lighting up at the sight of you as he raises his hand and finally, waves. 

.

You don’t know what took you so long to finally say yes, but thank god you did. 

Because aside from all the qualities that make him a kind of boy-next-door and a golden retriever boy all packed in one, you’re becoming well aware that Itadori Yuuji’s biggest asset is the way his ass looks tight, hugged snuggly by his pants as you watch from the stands.

a/n: coming up with this idea was so much fun that there's a bunch of lore i wasn't able to include! like: 1) megumi hates yuuji's music and definitely told him to never mention it out of fear that he’ll be rejected even more, 2) yuuji has received messages asking 'who's your friend?' 'is he single?' on the group photo with nobara and megumi, 3) he definitely stunt doubled for sukuna

thank you notes: to @augustinewrites for literally feeding me inspiration for this entire plot omfg this is lowkey her brainchild too & for helping me with dating app research along with @ufo-ikawa 🥺 ily both + @mysugu @soumies for of course listening to me ramble abt this, as you both do with everything else i talk about 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[normalfem]

Didn't get to go to the dune 2 screening at bfi imax tonight bc the world hates meeee specifically

[sanguineterrain]

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

[xxrougefangxx]

Jason Todd x Reader fic recs

This is originally made for @marinas-trench , but anybody can use this. Will update as I find more

Added little notes in pink to specify some stuff, includes BOTH platonic and romantic works.

Anybody who does use these recs please try to reblog works- that's the Tumblr algorithm likes don't do anything- to help the authors out <3 (no pressure tho)

-----

Authors because I can't pick a favorite work:

DC Masterlist by @sanguineterrain - The works speak for themselves.

@jasmines-library - Includes lots of platonic batfamily x reader and the hurt/comfort is just *chefs kiss*

@morverenmaybewrites Ao3 link- Her works are just godsend. She portrays Jason in such a beautiful way and acknowledges his trauma as well.

@minnieearsposts Ao3 Link - Jason works are 10/10, but she also has many other fics that connect with each other. Definitely recommend

@xxgoblin-dumplingxx - All of the au's are just magnificent! There's no master list but you can check the works out using tags.

Batfam masterlist by @book-place - All works are platonic

@writersfailure - Honestly a gold mine, check out their dc master list and other fics as well!

@wh1sp3rr - The jackpot at the end of the rainbow. That's all I'm going to say

@dccomicsimagines - Amazing pieces of work that I can't believe I didn't find before.

Series :

love is not designed for the cynical by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels - The thoughts and emotions are portrayed SO BEAUTIFULLY!!! And while Jason is just spectacular, I also recommend the other series as well.

What we want by @sophiethewitch1 - It's with all the batboys

Crimson Red by @ravenna-reid - Has multiple parts all located on the master list.

Guard Dog by @mostly-imagines

Your secrets are ours, kid by@jaythes1mp - Platonic and yandere

again &. again masterlist by @acid-ixx - Platonic and yandere

Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie by @urmoonlightbebe - I can't believe I almost forgot to add this here

Batfam x neglected reader by @dickgraysonass - Platonic

Gilded Cage by @heavysighing-dreamyeyes

Headcannons/Drabbles:

Girl!DadJason by @in-som-niyah

Reaction to you letting go of their hand by @gay-dorito-dust - Its paired up with both Dick and Damian

Existentional Crisis by @millyhelp

College student!Jason by @orchidsangel

BabyDaddy! Jason fic idea by @kuromitos

Unnamed by @aldryrththerainbowheart

Saturdays by @zer0wzs

Unnamed by @misdeliria

Artist!Reader by @charliedakotariley - This is so wholesome I love it

Fics:

JasonTodd x Fem!Reader by @spidernuggets - reader gets stuck in a time loop to save Jason

sickly sweet romance of u & jay by @wh1sp3rr

Unnamed by @millyhelp

tired and touchstarved!Jason by @indulgentdaydream

A Spoonful of Honey by @stararch4ngelqueen

Golden by @orionremastered

Reader who likes Superman more than Batman by @spidernuggets

Reader who prefers Superman more than batman (different fic than above) by @gay-dorito-dust

Rescuer by @kimberly-spirits13

graceless by @udiudijaye - platonic batfam x batsis but love the fic and had to recommend

Take care by @batsycline69

Forensic Psychologist Reader by @ravenna-reid

What are you doing here? by @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all

What a night by @batboysandgirls

call me your fool by @jasonsmirrorball

18+ Works MDNI

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together by @luvf4ngz - I love the au idea!

Jason distracting you from studying by @millyhelp

Slumber Party by @dollwritesarchive - Includes Dick

Thoughts on Jason being rough by @midnightorchids

jason 'don't run from this dick' todd by @killakalx

BabyDaddy!Jason by @hanasnx

Say Sorry by @dancewithdeath11

Jason fucking reader in the Batmobile by @martiniluvr

Series 18+

guns and roses masterlist by @jayswhorex

[miraclewoozi]

no i just. i just need a few weeks to recover from this.

Like A Melody | ljh x f!reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.9k | Pairing: ljh x f!reader | genre: smut

Jihoon has fucked you in his studio before, but never like this.

Warnings: dom!jihoon, studio sex, biting, hair pulling, grinding, cumming in pants, multiple orgasms, oral f. rec., fingering,, recorded sex (just voices), male masturbation, praise kink, piv sex, creampie

Reader Notes: chubby, has breasts and a vagina, subby

Jihoon needs to take a break. 

He desperately needs to take a break, and he knows this, so why can’t he do it?

He’s been working on music for hours; his fingers are starting to cramp from plucking guitar strings and pressing down piano keys, his throat is sore from trying lyric after lyric, and his hair is a mess from his fingers running through it every other minute. His eyes are exhausted, the blue light lenses in his glasses only doing so much. Even his back hurts, which rarely happens now that he lifts so heavy. 

But he just can’t make himself quit, which is why he breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the knock. It’s soft, just like you, and he calls out a quiet, “Come in,” feeling the smile stretch his lips as soon as your sweet face peeks through the slowly opening door. 

“Are you busy?” You ask apprehensively, your eyes darting between his face and his computer. 

He can’t take a break for himself but he can for you, so he says, “Not at all, baby,” and pulls his glasses off, minimizing his music production software. Pushing away from his desk, he turns his chair to face you and holds his hand out, waiting for you to come closer and take it. He just holds your hand for a minute, staring up at you with tired eyes and letting them blink closed when you lean down and press your lips to his. 

Kissing you is as easy as loving you. It’s one of the few times in his life where he can shut his brain off and just feel, because every movement comes naturally to him. Dancing and singing do too, of course, but he has to count beats and remember words and keep every next move in mind. 

With you, Jihoon can just do what feels right. Like taking hold of your knee with his free hand and pulling until you give in and straddle him in his chair. He loves how plush and perfect you feel against him, all of his sharp edges rounded out by your curves, and he loves even more having your weight on him. 

He can take it, he can take you, and he likes to remind you at every opportunity. 

Sliding lower in the chair, he pulls your hips into his to let you feel his hardening dick, his hand flexing in yours when you grind down. He can feel how hot you are through your little pajama shorts, and if he knows you at all, you’re wet already. He works his fingers free of yours to slide them between your legs, pulling your shorts and panties to the side so he can feel you through his thin athletic pants. 

Your arousal soaks the fabric as soon as he thrusts up into you, making him let out a small laugh against your lips. You pout in response and mutter, “Shut up,” still working your hips against his. 

“Didn’t say anything, baby,” he teases, smirking up at you and squeezing your lush hips with both hands. You sink yours into his hair and pull, and suddenly, nothing is funny. His hips buck against yours as his cock twitches, precum leaking from the head adding to the wet patch on his lap. 

Your hips roll into his and he starts to throb, his dick pulsing in time with his heart. He can’t let you keep going or you’ll make him cum in his pants, or maybe… he could? 

Should he? 

It makes you feel good to make him feel good, and you always have a little pep in your step after he lets you make him cum first. He’s also desperate to get his mouth on you, and you’ll be more inclined to let him take care of you if he’s already taken care of. 

With his mind made up, he pulls you down onto his cock and grinds into you, exhaling a moan against your mouth when you tug on his hair again. You love it this length, you’ve told him, and he’s going to keep it like this for as long as he possibly can. Partially for you, mostly because he fucking adores having you brush it and play with it and braid it. 

He gets to be so close to you, and your fingers in his hair feel heavenly, even (especially) when you get a little rough. 

His scalp stings with the next pull and it sends a shiver down his spine, ending in a sharp buck of his hips. He stretches his thumbs out to pull your pussy apart so he can grind into your clit, hoping to take you over the edge with him. 

He’s getting close already, and you’re so wet, he can feel every inch of your cunt like there’s nothing separating him from you. Soon enough, there will be nothing, and he’ll be able to lick and suck and kiss you as much as he wants. 

You bite his lip and drag your nails over his scalp, and that’s it for him. 

His brain goes offline and his hips stutter against yours, a low groan leaving his open mouth as his dick twitches and jerks, streaks of cum splattering the inside of his pants. Your hips don’t stop moving until he stops them himself, his harsh grip dimpling your flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon sighs, blinking his eyes open to find you beaming at him. 

He can only smile wryly at you in response, shaking his head and letting go of your hips to grab you by the waist. 

“Up you go,” he pushes, hefting you up to sit on his keyboard, discordant notes filling the studio until he leans forward and presses mute. 

“Are you su-”

“I’ve literally dreamed about this,” he tells you, for the first time. 

“You have?” You almost sound like you don’t believe him, and Jihoon simply can’t have that.

“Yes. I’ve dreamed about spreading you out on my desk just like this,” he shoulders his way between your legs. “And kissing up these thighs,” he presses his mouth to your soft skin, digging his teeth in only once, though he wants to leave you covered in bite marks. 

“And feeling them squeeze my head when I finally get you on my tongue,” he leans in and licks from your cunt to your clit, fighting a smile when your thighs snap closed just like he knew they would. 

He wants to talk to you more but he can’t pull himself away from your pussy, can’t make his mouth form words when he’s so busy using it on you. And honestly, his priority is keeping it on you, for as long as he possibly can. 

Between work and sleep, he doesn’t get to taste you nearly as often as he wants to, and now that he actually is between work and sleep, he plans on making the most of it. By shoving his tongue inside you over and over, by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you cry, by groaning and humming into you both so you can feel the vibrations and to voice his obsession with your pussy. 

And Jihoon is obsessed with your pussy, make no mistake. If he didn’t love his job so much, he’d quit and spend all his time worshiping you, taking care of you, loving you. He honestly thinks he’d make a killer house husband, and someday, when he retires, he plans on becoming one. 

He can imagine it now, cleaning and working out and sleeping until you come home, then feeding you and fucking you till the sun sets, reading to you and massaging away any soreness before wrapping you up in his arms and falling to sleep together. He can still make music while you’re gone, but he won’t be jetting off or practicing for hours on end anymore. 

He’s not ready for that now, but for a distant dream, it’s pretty enticing. 

Even more enticing is the paradise between your thighs; the taste of you, the scent of you, the feel of you clouding his mind. He can barely breathe but that doesn’t matter, not when you’re moving with his tongue like this, grinding your hips onto his face as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your swollen little clit. 

He wishes he could record the sounds coming out of your mouth, wishes he could play them back to you, watch you squirm and feel you flush at the sheer debauchery of them. It occurs to him that he could, but he’d have to pull away from you enough to ask and he’s unable to do so at the moment. 

You’re just too hot and wet and perfect for him to stop for even a second, so he’ll save that idea for another time and focus on making you cum for him now. He can tell you’re getting close, by the way your thighs shudder against his ears, by the keen you let out when he sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks, by the hand you sink into his hair to hold him to you, as if he’d ever want to leave. 

All it takes is a groan and a shake of his head and you’re cumming, your arousal leaking all over his chin and dripping down his throat to soak into the neckline of his t-shirt. He’ll take it off as soon as he gains the will to detach himself from you. 

It doesn’t come to him until his eyes travel up your body and catch on the way your tits heave in your sleep tank. He wants to see them, feel them, taste them, bury his face in them. 

Finally, he stands and rips off his shirt, leaning over you and waiting for you to raise your arms before tugging your top off and throwing it to the side. He takes a second to appreciate your bare breasts, the shape and weight of them intoxicating, and then shoves his face between them, licking over to one nipple and opening his mouth around it with a groan. 

He fucking loves your tits, and he shows you just how much with his lips and his teeth and his tongue, one thigh between yours to hold them open for his searching fingers. They find your clit with practiced ease and start to rub staccato circles, chasing you when your hips buck in sensitivity. 

He covers your other breast with his free hand, squeezing and brushing his thumb over your pebbled nipple as he sucks at its twin. You must have already showered, your skin tasting like your honey and cocoa butter lotion, and he can’t get enough, his head filling with clouds and images of you dripping wet and running your hands all over your body. 

He’s gotten you messy again, but he’s sure you knew what you were doing when you knocked on his studio door. This is almost always how you end up when you come to check on him, his hunger for you insatiable, incurable. 

How could he ever get enough of you when you’re this luscious, this sweet, this perfect? His mouth strays from your breast to your stomach, his lips tracing your rolls and stretch marks and cute little belly button before he sinks back down into his chair. He pushes your legs apart with a firm hand and replaces his fingers with his tongue, gliding it over you and sliding his fingers down to your entrance. 

He fills you with them slowly even as your cunt flutters and squeezes, wanting them deeper already. He’ll give you what you want, he always does, but first he’ll tease you a little bit. Not to be mean, or to punish you for something, but because he fucking loves to hear you beg. 

It always takes you a little push to lose your shyness, to find your voice, and this time, his push comes in the form of three fingers stretching your entrance open, sinking in only to the first knuckle. Your hips roll into his hand and his free one flies up to hold them still, his arm banding over your lap to hold you down so he can fill you at his pace. 

He goes much slower than he knows you would prefer, and he presses his smile into your clit when you finally break down. 

“Jihoon, please, I’ve been so good for you,” you whine, and he feels the heat spread from head to toe as he realizes it’s one of those nights. The kind where you need him to take control, to be rough with you, to reward you when you’ve earned it. 

And you have earned it, so he lets his fingers fill you, pushing them in all the way and murmuring into your clit, “You have been good, baby. I’ll give you what you need, promise.”

You just whimper, your head tilting back on your neck when he scissors his fingers apart and your walls clinging to them as he pulls them out to the tip. “Eyes on me, baby.”

He waits for you to return your gaze to his before pushing his fingers back inside of you and beginning to fuck you with them, his lips pursing around your clit and sucking with every thrust. Your pussy is so fucking hot and wet around his fingers, it makes him moan into you, just the thought of feeling you wrapped around his cock enough to reawaken it. 

It twitches in his damp boxers when a curl of his fingers beckons forth a rush of wetness and a sharp keen, one that echoes in his mind like a looped track.  

“Baby, can I record you?” 

He asks before he can stop himself, but now that it’s out in the air, he won’t take it back. He rests his cheek against your thigh as he waits, his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. 

“Um, sure?” You don’t sound certain, and Jihoon doesn’t want you to regret anything. He can always delete them, but he doesn’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. 

“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n. I just think it would be… really fucking hot. Having your voice on file, being able to listen to you whenever I want, using your sounds in songs that will never be heard by anyone but us.”

You squirm under his forearm and clench around his fingers, and he believes you when you say, “Do it, Jihoon. Record me.”

His lips stretch in a broad, genuine smile and he reaches for the computer mouse, opening his recording software and clicking the red button. 

He watches little waves form on the baseline, curls his fingers, grinds them into the rough patch inside of you, and arches an eyebrow. You gasp weakly, seemingly shy now that your noises are being picked up by something other than his ears. 

Jihoon can be patient though, knows that soon enough, he’ll make you forget all about it. 

You’re still being good, holding eye contact and keeping your thighs spread for him, so he rewards you with his mouth around your clit, a heavy suck startling a moan from your parted lips. He fights a smile, his lips pursing and pulling at the swollen bundle of nerves, and starts to hum, knowing you love the vibrations. 

He can’t see the software from here but the wave must spike because you let out a sharp cry, your nails scratching at the edge of his desk until he takes your hands and puts them on his head. Your fingers delve into his hair and you pull his face into your pussy, and he knows he’s got you. 

He didn’t really consider the mic picking up his own noises but he’s sure it is, his grunts and groans audible even with your thighs pressed to his ears. He can’t stop though, can’t hold them in when you taste so fucking good, when your cunt is searing hot and soaking wet under his mouth, when your nails are scratching at his scalp and sending zaps of electricity down his spine. 

They all end in his cock, and he feels it jerk against the waistband of his boxers. He’s tired of them, removes his arm from your hips to shove them and his pants down, groaning loudly when his cock pops out into the open air. It’s sticky with cum and hard enough to hurt, and he can’t resist taking hold of it with his free hand, squeezing hard at the base to ease some of the ache. 

His fingers thrust into you as he strokes his dick, the slick sounds loud in his studio, and you crane your neck, your eyes searching until they find his hand at work. 

“Fuck, Jihoon, I want you inside of me,” you whine breathlessly, trying to pull him off your cunt by the hair. That just makes him moan into you, makes his cock jump in his grasp, makes him fuck his fingers into you harder. 

“Cum for me first,” he demands, determined to get at least two orgasms on this file for mixing purposes. It seems he’s still a producer even when he’s trying to just be a boyfriend. 

You pout but listen well, your cries reaching a fever pitch as your pussy flutters around his fingers, arousal spilling out of you and dripping between the keys of his keyboard. He may have to buy a new one, but that’s a problem for future Jihoon, and a problem he would be lucky to have. 

“Perfect, baby, that was perfect,” he murmurs in a low tone, wanting your voice to be the focal point. 

“Will you fuck me now?” You pant, reaching down to smooth your fingers over the head of his cock, making him shiver and swallow a groan. 

“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you now,” he whispers, standing from the chair and pulling away from you to tug you off his desk. Your knees shake when you get your feet under you and he smirks, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your lips before taking you by the hips and turning you around. 

He squeezes your shoulder and starts pushing you down, letting you bend over the rest of the way by yourself. You fold your arms under your head, resting your cheek on them so you can watch as he guides his dick to your cunt and sinks inside. 

You’re stretched out enough to take him easily, your walls forming to his cock and gripping it tightly. You’re such a perfect fucking fit for him, it’s like you were made for one another, like your bodies were designed to match. It blows his mind every single time he has the privilege of being inside of you. 

He’s reluctant to leave you and you’re reluctant to let him, but pulling out means he can thrust back in. He keeps one hand on your shoulder and drops the other to your hip, clutching at it like a lifeline as he starts to fuck you in earnest. 

His hips smack into your plush ass rhythmically, the sound causing sharp spikes on the waveform graph and acting as the perfect percussion to the moans and whimpers escaping you. The mic is right by your mouth and he knows they’re being picked up beautifully, butterflies gathering in his stomach just at the thought of getting to hear them through his headphones. 

“Sound so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunts, angling his hips up to hit your g-spot and smirking when you yelp at the sensation. Your back arches, your stomach pressing into his keyboard and your hips pressing into his, and he just holds you tighter, fucks into you harder. 

Your pussy undulates around him as his hand slides from your shoulder to join the other at your hip, both of them gripping your ass and spreading you apart so he can watch his cock enter you again and again. It’s a sight he’ll never get tired of, a feeling he’ll never get used to, a gift he’ll never truly deserve. 

It’s what will send him over the edge, just as long as he makes you fall first. He already came before you once and he doesn’t plan on doing so again for a long time, but he needs to get you there soon or he won’t have a choice. 

One of his hands slips around your waist to dive between your legs, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and starting to strum it as he fills you over and over. You whimper and tremble against him, your cunt fluttering wildly around his aching cock and your hand flying down to grasp his wrist like you think he’ll pull away. 

He doesn’t intend to, honestly wouldn’t mind being attached to you like this for the rest of his life, knows already that he wants to spend it with you. 

His fingers get rougher on your clit and his hips move on autopilot as his brain empties, his balls aching to do the same. “Please cum, fuck. Baby, please fucking cum.”

Jihoon should have known he’d be the one begging you at the end of the night. 

Thankfully, you like to indulge him, your pussy locking him in place as you cum with a loud cry, followed by gasping sobs of his name when he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s right there, he’s right fucking-

“Jihoon, cum inside me. Fill me up, I want it,” you whimper, pressing your ass into his hips and squeezing your inner muscles around his throbbing cock, and that’s the end for him. 

He drops down to cover your body with his as he breaks apart, his own moans and whimpers registering on the graph alongside yours and his cum flooding into you in pulses. His hand leaves your clit so he can wrap his arm around your waist in a hug, his cheek pressed to your back and his other hand finding yours. 

He tangles your fingers together and rises up, pulling you with him and sitting heavily in his chair. He’s still hard enough his cock doesn’t slip out, and he leans you to the side so he can cup your cheek and turn your face into his, pressing his lips to yours in an openmouthed kiss. 

“Love you, baby,” he whispers into your mouth, waiting for you to say it back before kissing his way to your neck and biting down gently, just enough to leave an indent of his teeth behind. 

“Will you come to bed with me?” You whisper in a small voice, and he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and responding, “Of course, baby.” 

He reaches a hand out and stops the recording, saving the file to his private hard drive, ideas filling his head already. They can wait until the morning though, you asked him to go to bed with you and go to bed he will. 

Jihoon thinks this might be the most productive break he’s ever had. 

AN: this one's for all the jihoon stans who have been thirsting with me lately 💖

My Masterlist

My Chubby!Reader Masterlist

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Separation anxiety | Brahms Heelshire x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Ever since Brahms revealed himself he can't stand being far from you, specifically, out of you...

Cw: Anxiety, separation anxiety, trust issues, abandonment issues, nsfw, smut, vaginal sex, self indulgence, mentions of pregnancy

From morning to night, Brahms had to be inside you, all day if it was possible

He had a huge sex drive, one that was almost insatiable and he needed you all the time, needed that tight pussy around his cock, he needed to be balls deep in you 24/7

It was the only way he felt close to you, like he belonged somewhere and that he was loved

So, whenever he had the chance, he would fit his cock inside you

For a man that's lived in walls for years, you didn't expect him to have such a huge and magnificent cock, it was huge, uncut and fat

Many mornings you woke up to him burying his dick inside you, making you moan and whine from just waking up "Brahms... It's too early" you would whine at him

But he would look into your eyes, pleading you "Please Y/n... I need it... I need to feel you, to be inside you..."

So he would fuck you until you whined and pushed him off, or he would sit inside you for as long as he wanted to, or until he eventually fucked you

It didn't matter where, when or how, he would enter you when he wanted

You could be in the kitchen, cooking lunch or washing dishes and he would yank your pants or pajamas down and fuck you right where you were

Reading a book in the living room, he would spread you open and fuck you while you read your book, like nothing was happening

In the shower he would just go in with you and fuck you against the wall

Brahms was insatiable and you knew it, so you got used to never wearing panties around him, just putting on some shorts or pajama bottoms and go about your day, waiting for when he would get a raging boner and would come looking for you to satiate his hunger

"One day you'll get me pregnant Brahmsy and we'll have to raise a baby..." You said mindlessly flipping through a book as he pounded into you from behind on your shared bed

He groaned into your ear, "That's my goal... That way you can't leave me... You'll never leave... You'll have to stay here forever, raising a baby with me..." He said in between heavy breaths and moans

"Mmmmm, who said I was leaving honey?"

He smiled under his mask, pounding you harder now

Eventually he did get you pregnant... What did you expect?

[thebibliosphere]

My apologies if you have talked about this recently, but, as an aspiring author-if-i-ever-manage-to-finish-something-haha-can-you-imagine, I have a question! I discovered Draft2Digital thanks to one of your old posts and it caught my attention very fast because it looked very promising, but lately (as much as I've been able to consult with Tumblr's search, magnificent and very functional as it famously is) you've been mentioning IngramSpark more, so if I may ask! Is D2D still an acceptable platform nowadays, or is it better to go look for other alternatives? Thanks!

Oh, Ingram Spark used to be one of the only options for paperbacks other than Amazon in the US and I am moving AWAY from them because they’re such assholes.

They’re responsible for the price hike in my books and I’m 99.9% certain they’re skimming profit off my retailer discount. They also put the ability to call customer service behind a paywall ($25 per 30 minutes). You can still email them but good luck ever getting a reply. Which is an issue when they send you a box of hardback books covered in binding glue with pages falling out that they still maintain are in sellable condition and won’t issue a refund for 🙃 (yes to anyone who has been paying attention it’s been 2+ years and I’m still fighting with them over that)

Yeah, no. I’ll be a d2d author going forward. They’ve got the same global market reach as Ingram, as well as recently merged with Gardners in the UK (a big distributor)

Plus it means I can do my ebook, paperback and audio all from one place. (Findaway is partnered with d2d)

I’ll still keep Amazon separate, but that's because Amazon pays better royalties for direct uploads. Everything else I’m using d2d.

Fuck Ingram. They’re never getting another direct penny from me 😅

[coolemmasulivan2]

Clumsy Woman

Pairing: Rúben Dias x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't like how clumsy you are, afraid you might seriously injure yourself.

Word count: 1976

Can't pretend to understand I'll be here to hold your hand I will wait for you, I will wait for you

You had been clumsy from a young age. Falling from trees, falling off bicycles, or simply tripping over your own feet seemed to be your speciality. It was during one of these graceful performances that you met your boyfriend, Ruben. You were barreling toward a magnificent face-plant when his strong arms caught you, saving you from certain embarrassment.

"I want to paint that wall!" You announced over breakfast one morning, your eyes sparkling with determination. "A deep blue, maybe."

Ruben raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the wall. "That bookshelf has to go first." He pointed out. "It's heavy. We can do it together this weekend." He kissed your forehead and grabbed his keys. "I have to go!"

"Bye." Your attention was still on the wall and Ruben knew what you were thinking.

"Don't do it!" He called out as he reached for his bag. "Wait for me."

"But it's my day off!" You protested, already picturing the transformed wall. "I can at least start." Ruben gave you a look. "Fine." He gave you one final kiss on the lips and then left for training.

You didn't like to stay still at home. There was always a compulsion to be busy, so when boredom crept in, your eyes fell on the wall, then the bookshelf. Maybe it wasn't that difficult. With a burst of energy, you dashed out the door to buy the paint and everything you needed to paint the wall.

At home, you slip into old clothes and turn up the music. The bookshelf was packed with your books and Ruben's trophies. He'd be furious if he saw you right now, but you would prove you could handle it alone.

The bookshelf, a dark wood monster that dominated the room, had been a custom order. You started by emptying it, a task that required more muscle than expected. Then came the acrobatics. With much effort, you managed to slide a rug under one end. But as you attempted to repeat the same on the other side, disaster hit. Your hands slipped and the bookshelf came crashing down on your bare foot. A scream ripped through you as pain exploded.

"Don't do it!" Ruben's words echoed in your head. He was so going to kill you.

With a grunt of effort, you lifted the bookshelf off your foot. Pain shot through you as you collapsed to the floor, cradling your injured limb. It looked horrific, swollen and red. Trying to stand was a mistake, as a fresh wave of agony crippled you. You couldn't walk.

"Oh God, oh God!" Panic set in. Your phone was fumbled out of your pocket. You needed help, and you needed it now. Ruben wouldn't be home for hours. Calling an ambulance was the only option.

Ruben stepped into the locker room, and he heard the insistent vibration of his phone. "That thing hasn't stopped ringing." Bernardo commented, a grin spreading across his face.

Ruben's brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. It was Lily, your best friend. "Hey, Lily, everything okay?"

"Hi Ruben, sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet Y/N at your place, and she’s not there and a neighbour mentioned seeing an ambulance at your building." His blood ran cold. "Do you know what happened?"

"I can't believe her!" His voice rose in frustration. "She wanted to paint the wall, the one with the bookshelf. I told her not to touch it!" A wave of dread washed over him.

"She probably didn't listen. Oh God." Lily knew you better than anyone. Your stubborn independence was legendary. "I've tried calling her, but no answer."

"Let me take a shower really quick and then I'll call you back."

Bernardo and Walker exchanged concerned glances. "What's going on, man? Your girl in trouble again?" Walker asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

"Looks like it!" Ruben replied, his voice rough. "She can't stay out of trouble for five minutes. Fuck." He desperately searched for the contact of his friend Eric who worked at the hospital. He answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey, mate, what's up?"

"Eric, man, sorry to bother you, I know you're working, but I need a huge favour." Ruben rushed out, his voice was laced with urgency.

"Shoot!" Eric replied, his tone professional.

"Can you check if Y/N was admitted to the hospital? I think she might have had an accident. Again." He quickly explained the situation, his voice rising with each word. Eric promised to check and call back in a few minutes.

"I'm gonna be quick in the shower." Ruben said, turning to his friends. "If Eric calls, can you answer? Please." Walker and Bernardo nodded.

He'd never showered so fast in his life. Emerging a few minutes later, Bernardo was already on the phone.

"I'll tell him, thanks, Eric," Bernardo said, hanging up.

Ruben's heart pounded in his chest. "So?"

"She's there. Broken foot, but she's okay." Bernardo reported.

"For fuck's sake."

You rolled your eyes as Ruben burst into the hospital room. His face was a mask of irritation. Lily, who'd arrived earlier, squeezed your hand in silent support before stepping back.

"Seriously, Y/n?" Ruben’s voice was dripping with disbelief. "I told you to stay put."

"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." You replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You loved him and knew he was worried, but sometimes it felt suffocating.

"A broken foot means you’re not." He disagreed. "Can’t you just stay still for one day?"

You didn’t want to argue, especially as he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "I’m a grown woman, Ruben. I don’t need you to tell me to sit still."

"Well, you don’t act like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m dating a child." His response was harsh and unexpected.

Shock washed over you. Had he really just said that?

"Maybe you should break up with this child then. I wouldn’t want to keep the great Ruben Dias from the real women in the city." You retorted, your voice trembling with anger.

He ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He knew his words had been cruel, but his worry often manifested in this way. But breaking up with you was the last thing he wanted.

"You know that’s not what I meant-- what are you doing?" He began, but you cut him off as you tried to stand, to reach for the crutches. He pushed you back down, but you quickly pushed his hand away.

"Lily, can you take me home, please?" You asked, ignoring Ruben completely.

Lily, who had been a silent observer, helped you up.

"I can take you home!" Ruben offered.

"I don’t want you to take me home." You replied coldly. "You don’t have a car seat for a child, remember?"

Using crutches was something familiar. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had broken other body parts before.

In the car, Lily broke the tense silence. "You know he’s just worried about you."

"I know, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a child. "He has known since the beginning how clumsy I am. If he can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn't be together."

"Don’t say that!" Lily replied, her voice firm. "You two can't live without the other." Through the rearview mirror, you saw Ruben’s car following you. "I know it’s hard, but try to understand his point of view."

You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the conversation. You knew Lily was right. Ruben loved you, and his overprotectiveness came from that love. But it was hard to accept when it felt like he was suffocating you.

As the car pulled up to your apartment building, you felt a pang of sadness hit you. Lily opened your door, and carefully you stepped out. "Thanks for everything, Lily. I really appreciate it."

She smiled. "Anytime, Babe! Call me if you need anything, okay?"

You nodded and the the help of the clutches you walked towards the building entrance. As you turned around, you saw Ruben's car waiting for the garage door of the building to open up. You hesitated, looking at his car for a long moment before turning and going inside.

When you entered the house, you realised that your books were scattered like confetti, Ruben's trophies were still on the dining table, and the monstrous bookshelf stood there, a mocking presence in the room. It was impossible to clean it up. Not with your foot like that.

A few minutes later, Ruben entered the house and he looked around it. You were nowhere to be seen, but by the sound of the water running, he knew you were taking a shower. Without his help.

What if you fell? He shocked the thought out of his head. You needed space and he was going to give it to you. Kind of.

Jumping from the shower with only one foot and the other in the air, you dried yourself and put on your pyjamas. You felt like everything was hurting, but you had to prove a point to Ruben. You could do things alone without needing his help.

As you opened the bedroom door, the smell of the food hit you and your belly made a noise, not realising how starving you were. However what surprised you the most was not Ruben cooking but the fact the bookshelf was no longer on the wall that you wanted to paint, but the wall in front of it, with all his trophies and your books. Everything was really clean and the small lamp you had on the corner where you sat reading was welcoming.

The table was set, and Ruben was busy tossing salad at the kitchen island. When he saw you emerge from the bedroom, he paused, his expression softening.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle, laced with concern.

You met his gaze with a cold stare. "Fine."

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, walking around the kitchen with surprising ease on your crutches. Ruben watched your movements with a mixture of relief and worry.

He sighed, setting down the salad bowl. "Can we talk?"

You scoffed. "Are you sure you want to do that? You think talking to a child is easy?" Your voice was sharp, but a pang of hurt shot through you as the words left your lips.

Ruben rinsed his hands and pulled out two chairs. Gently, he guided you to one and sat down across from you. His hands rested lightly on your bare legs. "I'm so sorry for calling you a child. I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It still hurt." You mumbled.

"I know, I know. I've been overprotective." He admitted. "But every time you get hurt, it feels like my heart stops. I worry about you constantly. But calling you a child was wrong, and I'm truly sorry."

Your anger was slowly dissipating. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. He always knew how to break through your walls. "You're an idiot if you think this is the last time I'll hurt myself." You retorted, trying to sound tough.

He chuckled softly. "Let me be an idiot, then. I love you, you know that, right?"

Ruben's eyes held yours. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze lowered to your lips.

With a hesitant touch, his lips met yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over you. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

A small smile crept onto your face. "I know. I love you too."

[ravencromwell]

I have to add Archivist Wasp and its sequel Latchkey by Nicole Kornher-Stace. (Both those links lead to Weightless Books, an arm of the incomparable Small Beer Press that sells drm-free versions of numerous small presses' books for ease of reading and to avoid the amazon monster; to tout the awesome of Small Beer and Mythic Delirium, both primarily responsbiel for publishing Kornher-Stace would be a post of its own, but look them up if you're unfamiliar because they've provided some of the most envelope-pushing, queer-heavy scifi of the last decade.) Archivist Wasp is in the "destroyed earth" rather than the space category of scifi and...well, Amal El Mohtar can sell it better than I ever could:

An Archivist has two jobs. The first is to hunt and catch ghosts in order to learn about the precataclysm past from them; the second is to defend her life and position against “upstarts” — the other girls marked by the goddess Catchkeep’s claw-shaped scars at birth — once a year. Wasp has been Archivist for three years, and wants nothing more than to escape a dismal life of killing her sisters and obeying the Catchkeep-priest — so when an unusually powerful ghost asks her to help find his former partner in the underworld, she agrees. But, as is so often the case with the underworld, she finds both more and less than she bargained for. More than anything else, this book is sharp. You could cut yourself on the prose — Wasp’s world is one of thorns, knives, edges of thick, broken glass, a constant background-hum of pain that sometimes swells into a shout. Wasp’s perspective absolutely thrums with tension and violence, but also aches with a fierce, hollow loneliness to break the heart. The longing and gratitude for the smallest beginnings of true friendship make the betrayals more vicious, and the stakes just keep rising. I burned through this book in about three hours, desperately rooting for her. It’s also a brilliantly constructed narrative and world. The gods are cruel and absent. The underworld is a maze in layers, a twisting, turning palimpsest, one that allows Wasp to descend almost archaeologically through time by literally experiencing her ghost-partner’s memories. The pre- and post-apocalyptic worlds reflect each other in shards and fragments, all the more powerful for being subtle, for their resistance to being spelled out. It was also keenly refreshing — especially in something that’s ostensibly YA, where the Love Triangle of Doom is so annoyingly pervasive — to find a book in which all of the strongest, primary relationships are friendships; where friendship has the narrative, motive force usually reserved for sexualized romance. I very much wanted to see the A in QUILTBAG represented in this column, and this is a fine example: while the connection between the ghost and his (female) partner is intense and loving, it is never represented as sexual, and sex is in fact completely irrelevant.

Sci-fi books where a queer woman has the ghost of an annoying dead guy in her head

*Misery is nonbinary (she/they) and who’s in her head is not dead or a guy but I’m counting it, okay