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Almost finished with this fic. I can do this.

Don’t judge me for making this meme instead of just finishing it.

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Kamski textposts for your veiwing pleasure

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"If it's powerful acquaintances you're after, you have to look no further than yours truly. Few can match me - in either magic or talent."

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Being in a secret relationship with Jamie Tartt

The moment you were hired as the club's psychologist. You weren’t expecting to get tangled up with its flashiest player.

It was hard ignoring each other in the hallway.

You were never that into football, but since your involvement with the club—and especially with Jamie—you found yourself watching every match.

Cheering just a little too loudly when Jamie scored a goal, and feeling your heart race when you saw his eyes scanning the crowd for yours.

Him scheduling extra time with you to catch up.

Sometimes you'd lock the door and make out in your office.

At times, you'd leave cute little notes in his bag. Nothing too obvious—just enough for him to know that you were thinking of him.

Sometimes, when you had a busy day, you’d receive flowers or lunch delivered anonymously.

Quickly being adopted into the team.

Atleast now you could openly talk

Secret glances during teamdinners were the best part

His hands touching your legs underneath the table.

Ted quickly caught on to the little changes in your demeanor—the way there was more pep in your step. He’d give you a knowing smile and a wink, like he understood more than you let on.

“You coming over right? x” texts sent in the parking lot.

You’d leave FC Richmond in separate cars, each of you pretending to head in different directions, but somehow, without fail, you’d end up at Jamie’s house almost every evening.

You sleep in his clothes

You found it hard, nay, you cringed, at Jamie’s time spent on reality TV. It was easier to pretend it didn’t exist.

You called it Jamie's ''dark timeline''

Barely going on formal dates, but always hanging out. You’d drink and watch bad movies on the couch.

At times, Jamie would catch you looking at him, not the screen and he'd give you that cheeky grin of his, like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

Most of the time making out on the couch

Usually resulting in sex in the living room

other nights looked like:

Drinking wine in bed

Drinking wine in bath

More sex

Mornings...

Him always trying his harderst too make some sort of edible breakfast.

He is getting better

But finding it cute when he messes up

Ordering in anyway

You making coffee for the both of you

leaving for work in seperate cars again.

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First Kisses - Ted Lasso Characters

Ted Lasso He’s a little nervous, cracking a sweet, silly joke right before it happens to ease the tension. But when his lips finally meet yours, he’s all in, gently cupping your face with one hand while the other rests on your waist. He pulls you in even further and after the kiss is done. You both just stand there for a moment, letting it all sink in. Then, he smiles so wide, you can’t help but laugh because Ted just has that effect on you.

Roy Kent After a couple of beers, and some playful banter like only friends could, Roy finally finds the courage. You’ve been sitting side by side at the bar, the atmosphere casual enough, but there's an undeniable tension building between you two. Roy's been trying to keep his cool, but as the alcohol kicks in, his guard drops. You’re mid-sentence when, without warning, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you toward him, kissing you with the kind of intensity that leaves no room for second thoughts. There’s nothing soft about it—Roy’s all in, he doesn't do nayhting in half-measures. . When he pulls away, he doesn’t say much, just a gruff, “Fuck. About time, eh?”

Jamie Tartt You’re going on and on, talking about how proud you are of him, how he’s grown so much and how he's finally starting to stand up for himself—especially after everything with his dad. You're spilling your heart out, and he’s just standing there, looking at you, taking in your words, slighlty shifting on his feet. And then, out of nowhere, he grabs your face, pulls you close, and kisses you like it’s the only way to shut you up. His lips are firm, but there’s a vulnerability underneath, like he doesn’t quite know how to express all the feelings swirling inside him. When he pulls away, he gives you that signature Jamie Tartt smirk, but his eyes are a little softer than usual. “You talk too much,” he says.

Keeley Jones Keeley’s first kiss with you is playful and spontaneous. She makes you feel like the most attractive person in the world, teasing you until you’re both grinning ear to ear. When she finally leans in, it’s full of sweetness, her lips lingering just long enough to make you crave more. She pulls back with a cheeky wink.

Rebecca Welton She’s the type to make sure the moment is perfect—maybe after a glass of wine and a deep, intimate conversation. As you sit close, she gently cups your face, her fingers soft against your skin. Her lips brush against yours, teasing at first, making sure you're both caught in the anticipation. Slowly, she lets her hands slide to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Then, without hesitation, she presses her lips firmly against yours, a little tighter, a little more intentional, as if she’s letting go of every reservation. Her grip on the back of your head tightens.

Sam Obisanya Sam’s first kiss is like pure sunshine—gentle, warm, and overflowing with care. He’s always respectful, making sure you feel completely comfortable before he even considers leaning in. When you give him a small nod, he takes it as permission, his hand softly cupping your chin. His eyes meet yours, searching, making sure there’s no hesitation, no doubt in your expression. His gaze is full of tenderness, and when you smile and lean in, Sam can’t help himself—he rushes forward, his lips meeting yours. It starts slow and tender, both of you savoring the moment The kiss deepens, still soft, still sweet. As you pull away, his gaze locks with yours again, a beautiful glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but smile, leaning in for another kiss.

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ARMY OF DARKNESS (1992) dir. Sam Raimi

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‘why do you read “various x reader stories?”’

first, i’m a narcissist and will not read it if it’s not about me

second, I love the feeling of people liking me

third, I was ignored as a child

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god grant me the strength to write my weird porn, the serenity to write my weird porn and the wisdom to write my weird porn

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Right now i need a fat blunt in between my lips a twisted tea in my left hand and a hot 6'5 short tempered man in the right hand and then i just maybe i can go to sleep

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I need some damn Nere fanfics on here asap.

Look at how perty he is! I dont care that he is twat-soul. He can bat those beautiful white lashes at me and ill do anything he'll ask.

If anyone has written anything or has recs, hit me up. !

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General - gn Dark Urge X Ketheric &(Gortash?)

Summary: Ketheric knows about Gortash, much to Durges dismay. Words: 653

Ketheric sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid even in the comfort of his own chambers. His warhound lay curled beneath the table, its eyes glinting in the dim light, watching the table guest across from him with the same vigilance as its master.

They leaned back in their chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other. Their fingers absently traced the rim of their glass, the motion almost idle as they savored the quiet, enjoying the peace the silence brought.

Ketheric’s gaze remained on them, studying their every movement. Finally, he broke the quiet.

"You’ve grown close to the Banite, haven’t you."

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement, more than a simple observation, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Like an arrow aimed for the jugular. Still, they didn’t respond immediately. Their grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly before they set it down, doing so with deliberate slowness.

"Much like you and I are 'close'," they said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach their eyes. They motioned casually around the table, their tone nonchalant, almost mocking. "We talk. Drink. Have dinner. Strictly business," they lied.

Ketheric’s lips twitched in the faintest sign of annoyance. "Nothing quite like this," he growled, his voice carrying the weight of years of command. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You know precisely what I mean."

Their eyes flickered for a moment before they straightened in their chair, the smirk faltering but not disappearing. "And what is it that you mean, Ketheric?"

He didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. "I’ve been around long enough to notice whatever business it is that’s entertaining the two of you." He took a long, deliberate drink from his glass, savoring the pause before continuing. "You’ve been careful, it's in your nature to hide your secrets, but Gortash has been hardly subtle."

Their pulse quickened, but they kept their tone measured, even though in their mind, they cursed Enver a thousand times. "And what do you want me to do? End this 'business' arrangement? Is that your suggestion?"

Ketheric scoffed, his gaze hardening at their defiant admission. "I never said that. But you’d better keep your personal matters in line. Don’t let it interfere. Don’t jeopardize our plans."

They leaned back, a sharp exhale escaping their lips as they tried to shake off the weight of the conversation, though inside, they were seething. "Out of character for you, Thorm. Meddling in personal matters." They paused, their voice biting. "Perhaps I should take a closer look at your life again—see what other secrets I can dig up. What other skeletons are rattling around in your closet?"

Ketheric scowled like a parent reprimanding a child, his eyes cold. "Just heed my warning and eat your damn dinner."

"Yes, General. Absolutely." They grimaced back at him, their tone laced with mock obedience.

They stabbed their fork into the plate with a sharp, sudden motion, the clink of metal against porcelain cutting through the silence. Their eyes flashed with irritation, their jaw tightening.

They reached for the steakknife, gripping the handle with a steady hand. With a tense motion, they twisted it between their fingers, feeling the weight of the blade as it turned in their grip. Their gaze flickered to the piece of red meat on the plate, then back to Ketheric. They twisted the knife again, the motion slower now, controlled. For a brief, dangerous moment, a thought crept into their mind—What if they just… flicked it? The fantasy played out in their mind: the blade sinking into Ketheric’s throat, the thud of it landing home, blood spilling over the table, splashing onto the warhound's coat. Beautiful. And no real consequence.

But just as quickly as the urge appeared, they shoved it away, burying it deep inside, their fingers tightening around the knife. Then, suddenly, they dropped the knife with a sharp clink.

"You have soiled my appetite, I’m afraid."

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I need some inspo. Send requests lolz.

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“You plan on romancing Gale again, aren’t you?”

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I am in love with this man

Evil Dead II, ca. 1987.

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Imagine hating on me but i spend my free time maladaptive daydreaming about getting raw dogged by fictional men