#anyway bad news I’ve been sick as fuck

[olympiansally]

The horrors are rattling today: already switched between wips three times and I know I’ll be soon losing the battle to a little nap

[1ovestay]

won’t lie, experiencing some horrors

[tyrianlynch]

I started watching Suits today and have been playing the sims nonstop and have been reading nothing but fanfiction about gay firefighters and articles about how the CIA started a domino effect that created al qaeda and the taliban so yes I’m doing super well mentally

[alittleemo]

final update of the day

pros; got to finish my book (joy luck club), and movie (love simon) on the flight, gf meals they gave me were actually good, PIZZA I COULD EAT !!!!!!!, did some sketching, and wrote a LOT for my challengers fic

neg; lost my cookies i got in the airport AND the little snack they gave me </3, my dog fell off the counter and lost a tooth, watched a huge fight in the customs line, and my sisters suitcase was left in france

[casbitchh]

fuuuuck so i’m back home tomorrow after a week long work trip and my flatmate just messaged like “having a few friends for dinner tomorrow night hope that’s all good!” like christ the last thing i want after such an intense trip is a bunch of strangers in my home when im trying to unpack and chill but im a bitch if i ask her to change her plans now so i guess i will just stay in my room and try ignore them

[strawberrysturniolo]

DEALER CHRIS WITH BENEFITS EATING SEX CHOCOLATE FIC!!!!

lets trip // dealer!chris

summary: your dealer comes over to smoke, and when you get the munchies, you discover a stash of sex chocolates. oral (male receiving). breeding kink. high sex. dominant chris. friends with benefits.

I’ve been buying weed from him for months now. He was only ever supposed to be my plug, nothing more. I didn’t even think we were capable of being friends above the simple conversations we had over transactions.

It’s not up for debate that this guy is hot as shit. Everyone knows it. He’s known in town for being everyone’s favorite dealer. The guys think he’s cool, and the girls are obsessed with him. I think some girls started smoking just so they could be with him at some point. Some probably expected to take it to the next level and fuck him. That wasn’t my plan at all, but somehow, here I am.

I found about him through my friend. Her boyfriend bought from him, and they helped me connect to Chris when things got hard and I decided to start smoking.

We hit it off from the jump. I was highly attracted to him, but we just seemed to connect in certain ways that I wasn’t expecting.

He just… understood me. He started taking care in me that I don’t think he was planning on developing either. He started watching how much I was buying, questioning my safety, my mental health, everything.

When he first started getting flirty, I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed that’s how he was with every female customer. I thought that was his way of marketing to them and ensuring they would come back to see him. He wants to make money more than he wants to have sex with his customers, shockingly.

He’s a good guy. He’s a little misunderstood. He definitely has a soft spot underneath the metal plates that protect his body.

Me:

out of weed. can i buy some off you?

hot dealer:

Out on deals rn. Won’t get back until late. I can come when I finish if you want. How bad are you out?

Me:

just ran out

hot dealer:

Just? And your already asking for more? Bad girl. Drugs are bad. Unless this is your excuse for me to come see you.

Me:

maybe both. come find out for yourself

hot dealer:

Be there in an hour.

The next hour moved by painfully slow. This is either because I’m waiting to see Chris, or because I’m waiting for weed.

Chris and I have had sex a few times. It’s always great. I’m always left wondering if we should continue or if it’s time to call it quits and stick to our dealer to customer relationship.

I feel sick at the idea of losing him like that.

My apartment door opens two hours later, a voice following.

“Munchkin?” Chris calls out. “Where you at?”

I walk out of my bedroom, peeking my head out first. A smile pulls at my lips without even thinking about it. He does that to me. It’s aggravating.

“What happened to an hour? It’s been two,” I enlighten him on his lateness, wrapping my arms around him as I take in the subtle scent of weed on him.

I sink my head into his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating off his body from his brown hoodie. He pairs it with a pair of camouflage cargo pants and white Air Force sneakers.

“Has it?” he asks me, playing dumb. He lets out a subtle whine before squeezing me closer. “Missed me that bad, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes, letting go of him. There’s a loss in me when our bodies disconnect. “How was business today?”

He nods, pursing his lips a little as he thinks. “Not bad. Same as usual. Some stupid kids, other people who think they know more than me. It’s nothing new.”

I open my fridge, grabbing a soda for him, the same routine every time he comes over.

“Hey, I don’t wanna sound like a dick,” he says as he cracks his can open. “I’ve been so fucking busy today, I haven’t eaten. I don’t wanna raid your fridge or anything, but have you eaten? Do you wanna get anything?”

I shake my head. “I ate a bit ago while I was studying. I have to get more groceries anyway, so you can eat whatever you want, if you can find anything.”

“Have I ever told you you’re the best ever?” he grins.

My cheeks flush pink. “Ehhhh, maybe once or twice.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek and says, “Well you are.”

He then proceeds to investigate in my pantry, cabinets, and fridge, pulling out a snack for himself.

“How much did you bring?” I ask him, referring to the weed he owes me.

“Three grams,” he responds through chews.

“How much do I owe you this time?”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

I drop my shoulders. “Dude.”

“Don’t fight me on it,” he warns. “You should be glad I’m giving you free weed. Be appreciative.”

“I am appreciative, but I want you to make money.”

He pouts his bottom lip, putting on an act. “That’s so cute you want me to make moneyyyyyy,” he draws out, then relaxes his face to its usual state. “That’s why I fuck with these dumbasses and over charge them. I overcharge the stupid, Munchkin gets free weed,” he explains.

I’m halfway through an eye roll when he says, “You ever tried this shit?” He lets out a little moan at the taste. “If you catch it in your mouth I’ll give you a kiss.”

Without thinking twice, I squat my legs a bit and open my mouth. Chris sends a piece of chocolate through the air, and I catch it on my tongue.

“Atta girl,” he praises. “Good catch.”

“Mmm,” I hum as the taste fills my mouth. “I think this is my roommates chocolate.”

Chris lets out a little wince. “Shit, my bad.”

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, I have to run to the store to get stuff anyway, so I’ll just get her some more. What’s the brand?”

Chris flips the box around to read the label. “Hmm. Good Relations. Kind of a strange chocolate brand. Why didn’t she just get Hershey’s or something?”

Our eyes snap to each others at the same time.

“What’d you say?!” I ask, running over to grab the box from him.

“Why does your roommate leave her sex chocolate in the pantry! Tell her to put the freaky shit in the bedroom!”

“Why are you eating shit without checking labels!”

“I didn’t know it was a sex candy factory in here!” he defends.

“Give me the box.” He tosses the package to me, and I scan the text on the back. “It says it starts working in 20-40 minutes…”

Chris pumps his fist through the air. “SCORE! I’m getting laid and I had some good chocolate.”

“I was just reading the box, you freak!”

Chris lowers his eyebrows at me. “Don’t act like you weren’t expecting me to come over and fuck you after you got your weed.”

I mumble a, “Shut up,” before putting the chocolates back in the pantry.

“So… are we gonna fight the temptation… or are we gonna fuck?”

“Give me my weed and then I’ll think about it.”

Chris frowns as he digs a hand into the pocket of his pants. “So demanding,” he says as he pulls out a bag with a few green trees inside.

“Thank you,” I smile, giving him a quick kiss on his lips before walking to my room.

He groans. “That’s all I get!”

“For now, yeah!” I call back to him over my shoulder. “Come smoke this with me and we’ll see if you get lucky.”

Chris follows me into my room, sitting down in a comfy chair in my room. His ass has imprinted into the material with how much time he spends there.

“Want me to roll for you?” he asks, peeking at me as I grab my essentials.

“Mhm,” I hum, fishing through my drawer. “You do it tighter.”

“Mmm,” he responds, sitting up a bit in the chair. He waits for me to walk back over then says, “Yeah, you know I like my shit tight,” and adds a slap to my ass, grabbing it harshly after.

I pass him a rolling tray along with some paper, watching his every move. I can do this easily, but there’s something so sexy about the way Chris does this. The focus on his face, his scrunched eyebrows, his lip poking out of his mouth, resting over his bottom lip.

His eyes are already bright red, the most beautiful blue shade complimenting them. His beard is almost clean shaven, a light beard growing in, but nothing major.

“You hear me?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of whatever trance I was put in.

“Huh?”

“I said I need a lighter,” he repeats. God knows how many times he’s said it and I wasn’t listening.

“Sorry,” I mumble, tossing him the lighter.

He rests the lighter on his thigh, then presses this thumb to my lips. “Open.”

I do as he says, sucking on his thumb for a moment. He pulls it back out and uses my saliva to seal the joint shut.

He holds the joint up the my lips, and I take it between them, letting him light the end for me.

“So obedient, aren’t you?” he asks me in a low voice.

I say nothing, only nodding as I inhale the smoke entering my mouth.

Maybe it’s the chocolate, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows exactly what to say to get me wound up.

Before I can let the smoke out, his hand grips my jaw, pulling me down to him and attaching our lips. As my mouth parts open, the smoke dances between our mouths, entering his. He sucks in a breath and smiles.

“Tastes even better from your mouth,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my chin, then under my jaw.

I hold the joint front of his face, letting him grab it with his mouth and take it between his fingers next.

“Thank you for my weed,” I whisper, watching him in a daze.

He slouches in the chair, spreading his legs in front of me. “Wanna show me how thankful you are?”

He raises his eyebrows as he tags another drag of the joint, and before I can think twice about it, I’m on my knees, unbuttoning his pants.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he teases. I ignore him and pull his pants down around his knees, bringing his underwear with it.

I don’t know what magic is in those chocolates, but in all the times I’ve seen this man’s dick, it’s clear that it’s different now. He looks bigger, like he’s throbbing so much that his dick had no option but to expand slightly. He’s thick, dark veins decorating the length, while his beet red tip leaks of precum. I swallow at the sight, taking him in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he reminds me, but still, this feels different.

“You look so good,” I groan, touching his tip and spreading the precum.

He flinched just at that touch, like it’s already sending him close to the edge. “You wanna make me feel good?” he breathes out.

I nod, spitting a line of saliva down to his dick, spreading it over his length as I lick the other side.

“Oh god,” he sighs. He takes the joint back into his mouth, chasing two highs.

He holds the joint between two fingers, his head tossed back over the top of the chair.

I suck tightly over his tip, his hips bucking up, making me take more of him. His hands hold the back of my head in a messy make-shift ponytail, his jaw slack as I suck more of him. My head starts to bob at a reasonable rhythm, his moans becoming uncontrollable.

“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he smiles lazily. “Such a good girl- Fuck.”

His hips start to meet me halfway, thrusting lightly until his tip hits the back of my throat. I let him do that a few times before a soft gag leaves my mouth, and I take myself off of him, breathing heavily. A line of spit connects my lips and his dick.

“Too much?” he asks, wiping the tears starting to drip down my cheekbones from the pressure in my throat.

“I’m okay,” I nod. “Promise.”

“You’re doing so well. Just keep doing what you’re doing. That chocolate… I can’t hold off much longer.”

I drop my head lower, sucking his balls. He shouts out a string of profanities as his head flies backwards, the hand in my hair tightening. His teeth are clenched together, and he squeezes the joint so tight that it’s nearly flattened.

I spit on his tip again, making sure he’s fully coated before I start sucking his tip again, dropping my mouth halfway down his length and bobbing it back up and down. I stroke the rest of him with one hand while I massage his balls with my other. The sound is insane, the wetness of my mouth on his dick, and the gagging as I take him as deep as I can in my throat. Not to mention his moans that are almost screams of pleasure at this point.

“Fuck!” he yells, gripping the side of the chair as he lets his release fill my mouth. “Shit, shit, shit, ohhhhhh god, baby. Yeah that’s it, take my fucking cock.”

My eyes are full, watering as he forcefully shoved his dick into my throat. I pull off of him slowly with a popping sound before I sit up, smiling at him.

“You’re insane,” he pants, smiling at me as I stand up. He slaps my ass harshly, pulling me closer to him after. He slaps both cheeks again and pulls me down to sit on his lap. He grabs my jaw and kisses me, a sloppy and wet kiss that just shows each other how badly we need more. As soon as I sit myself on his dick, I start grinding on him without a care of my rhythm. I just need a relief.

He reads my mind, wrapping his hands under my ass and scoops me into his arms. He leads us to my bed, tossing me down before he steps out of his underwear and pants, kicking them across the floor. He yanks his sweatshirt off, leaving on a tight black shirt. His hands trace my legs as he strips me of my own clothing, leaving my dripping pussy in his sight as he lowers himself between my thighs.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He places his palm against my folds, feeling how wet I am. “Aw, poor girl. Need my dick in between there, don’t you?”

I nod, whimpering as the slightest touch to my clit has my entire body on fire. I’ve never felt so horny in my life, and I could kill him for not putting his fingers in me soon enough.

“Let me hear your pretty voice, then I’ll give you whatever you want,” he rationalizes, and considering how desperate I am right now, I’ll do anything he wants.

“Please, Chris,” I whine. “Please, please, anything. Just touch me.”

“Mmmm,” he smiles, dragging his plump lips over my clit until I shudder. “Let me hear that pretty voice again.”

Just as the words leave his mouth, he suctions his lips over my clit, pulling upwards and releasing it before spitting back on it. His fingers rub quickly over the bud, his eyes locked on mine.

I grip his arm, my fingers digging into his skin. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Tell me how badly you need to be fucked by me.”

“So bad-“

He makes me wince as his hand slaps over my clit.

“Full sentences or you get nothing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You’re making me feel so good, Chris,” I correct myself. “I want you so- Need you to fuck me.”

“That’s a good girl,” he mumbles, pushing two fingers inside as he pushes my shirt up my chest with the other hand, instructing me to take it off. I peel the fabric over my head, discarding it to the floor. “So wet around my fingers.”

He removes them just after, a cry of desperation leaving my mouth. He sucks he’s fingers clean, then strokes his cock, his chin pressed to his chest and he stares down at himself. He leans forward, slapping his dick against my clit. My legs shake with every hit.

The tip of his dick finds my cunt, and he slips in so easily, like he was made for me. Like he was supposed to fill me up. He wraps one of my legs around his waist as he situates himself, then wraps my other leg around him, burying himself as deep as he could go.

He spit onto his thumb, pressing it onto my clit as he created friction just where I needed him, continuing to thrust himself inside of me.

“That’s it, take it baby. Take it.”

My heels dig into his back, pulling him closer, if it’s possible. His head buries into my neck, removing his fingers from my clit and replacing his hand with the movement of his pelvis, grinding it into me.

As my hands reach up to his back, trying to hold onto him, he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head.

His breath hits my face as he locks his eyes on mine. He watches every move I make. Every moan that leaves my mouth, he’s right there to inhale it.

“Chris,” I groan, feeling myself tighten around him.

A low moan pulls from deep in his throat. “Just like that baby, I’m gonna cum in you.”

I nod, squeezing his cock with my pussy, watching as his face unfolds with pleasure.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” he says. “You’d like that, huh?”

I nod furiously.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” he says. “Watch it all drip out of this perfect pussy. Then I’m gonna pump my fingers in you and force it to stay inside of you.”

“Please,” I whine.

He locks one hand around both my wrists, using his free hand to grip my jaw. “Watch my face when I cum in you.”

Seconds later, his hips thrust at a rapid rate before stilling inside of me as he pumps his cum inside. His slacked jaw causes our lips to brush against each other.

As he pulls out, the last brush of our hips forces my orgasm out of me, my cum dripping out of my pussy along with his.

“Aht aht aht,” he tsks. He takes three fingers and pushes them into me. “Told you to keep this shit inside of you.”

I nod weakly. “I’m sorry.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Mhm.” He lays on his stomach next to me, breathing out a laugh. “We should snoop through her snacks more often.”

Yeah, we fucking should.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm-blog @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

[unalivejournal]

imagine a tumblr simulator set in the velvet goldmine universe lmfao

2 notes

🎹 wilderatz Follow

DNI if you still support br*an sl*de after the shooting hoax. what he did was fucking unacceptable and pathetic. the panic and heartbreak on the dashboard that day was absolutely traumatizing. and the fact that it was all for cheap publicity makes it even more despicable. if you HAVE to listen to his records the least you could do is buy them secondhand

#so glad curt never cut that record with him

186 notes

⭐️ glittersisgay

i got new boots! seeing the flaming creatures tonight :-) life is good

4 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

sorry but the sladewild narrative is CRAAAAZY. like imagine you start off as a nobody performer and becoming enthralled by this rockstar after he shows up your act and you end up becoming famous by being inspired by his stage presence AND YOU BECOME FAMOUS ENOIGH TO GO TO AMERICA AND MEET THIS GUY AND YOUR LABELS START FABRICATING A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN U TWO TO GENERATE PUBLICITY FOR YOUR NEW ALBUM BUT THEN YOU ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET BUT THEN THE PAPARAZZI FINDS OUT AND YOU HAVE A HUGE FALLING OUT BUT THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER YOURE SPOTTED IN THE CROWD AT THE DEATH TO GLITTER SHOW

♻️ 🦷 roxytunes Follow

lmfao WHAT are you talking about. swear to god i’m sick of you invasive freaks trying to make things up about real peoples lives. the part about the labels trying to market slade and wild as a couple isn’t even true. yes they were heavily publicized as close friends but they never admitted to being in a relationship. also receipts on brian being at the death to glitter show???? stop spreading false information

♻️ 👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

anyways watch out for my new sladewild maxwell demon tour era fic that will be published in my next zine 💋

#my mutual was literally next to him in the crowd.

58 notes

🪩 girlboydragdemon

at the Sombrero Club with the glamrocktuals YAYYYY

♻️ 🪩 girlboydragdemon

Hangover.

#we may have made. mistakes. #also we think brian slade’s former manager was in the booth behind us

11 notes

🌟 venusinpurrs

♻️ 🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

WHY ARE WE PITTING THREE BAD BITCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

better question WHY ARE VENUS IN FURS LOSING GUYS CMON ITS OBVIOUSLY THE RATS

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

do you people hate dykes

244 notes

💋 jack-fairy-fan51 Follow

Anyone else feel like this Tommy stone guy showed up out of nowhere?

6 notes

❇️ 20th-cxntury-bxy

Well…. it’s been a fun time on the road with Malcolm & co. (@/theflamingcreatures) but in the months following the hoax and the death to glitter tribute I’ve been feeling more and more inclined to move on. idk. i know there’s still an active tumblr community but in the real life scene it feels like everyone’s just…. given up. I’ll be starting a new job soon and won’t have a lot of time to post. Might delete this blog in the near future. remember to support local shows and keep being yourself

#a.journal

0 notes

👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

word on the street is that mandy slade divorced brian???? lmao get his ass

♻️👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

[#finally i have a chance with her]

you’re funny if you think any of us on this site have an inkling of a chance with her

2,658 notes

🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

Just found this on the sidewalk. does anyone know what it is?

7 notes

[villain-crown]

cheat | @jegulus-microfic | words: 520

critical care, part 1 | (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

“Potter, I’ve got shit news for you.”

James snorted, finishing the last few letters of a name on the large dry erase board that announced the day shift nurses’ assignments on the medical-surgical intensive care unit. Their ward’s nickname, coined by its wealthy donor, was written at the top in half-erased red letters: Go Gryffindor! “No thanks, Marlene, I’ve got enough shit news already.”

“Peter’s cheating on us. He’s been floated to take patients in the recovery room. They took on three extra cases this morning.”

Jerking his head around, he stared at her.

No.

Peter could not do this to him. James had twenty-two sick as shit patients tripping over themselves to dive into body bags and just enough nurses to stop them from doing so. The acuity of their unit was through the roof. He would not be tested today.

“Pete wouldn't do that.” James shoved his hand into his scrubs to fish his phone out. On the home screen was the preview of an apologetic text from ✨🐀Wormtail🐀✨, reporting his marching orders to the post-anesthesia care unit. “Wow. I thought he loved me. What am I supposed to do? We’re about to start the bloody shift!”

“Well don’t worry boss, because I have slightly less shit news. They’ve sent us a nurse to replace him.” She paused. “From Slytherin.”

“I thought you said less shit news,” James grumbled, using the side of his hand to rub Peter’s name from the board. Slytherin, with its name derived from the benefactor who had funded its building, was the cardiovascular intensive care unit two floors below them. Their nurses were notoriously nightmares to get along with. “The last time they floated someone from there to here it was Snape, remember?”

“Oh yeah!” Marlene snapped her fingers. “Didn’t Sirius almost trick him into drinking nitroglycerin? It’s a good thing you stopped him. He could have actually died.”

“Yeah. Anyway, who are they sending us?”

Marlene consulted her phone. “It’s going to be… Oh! Regulus Black!”

“Black?” James repeated distractedly, writing it down.

“It’s Sirius’s little brother. Have you met him?”

“No.” James capped his marker and stepped back. “Have you?”

“Once.” She paused, then qualified that. “Sort of. I got to watch Sirius threaten one of the doctors for flirting with him. Does that count?”

That got his attention. “What? Why? Sirius has slept with half the staff in this hospital!”

“Yeah, but he’d put Regulus in a monastery if he could. No dating allowed for Baby Black.” Marlene handed over the charge nurse phone. “It’s too bad. Dorcas says Regulus is… sweet.”

James smirked. “Dorcas says, huh? I guess Pete’s not the only one cheating on us Gryffindors by consorting with the enemy units.”

“Fuck off, Potter. And I’ll give you a bit of free advice. When Regulus comes up here, you’d best try very hard not to stare. Sirius hates when people do that.”

James’s expression turned serious. “I won’t. Is there something physically… did something happen to him?”

Oddly, Marlene just smirked. “No, nothing like that. But if you know what’s good for you, don’t let Sirius catch you looking.”

[forget-me-maybe]

Rolan HC

So, I was sick last week and thought about how Rolan would react on my Tav being sick.

I think he'd be very caring, as he always is, but he's also so unproportionally scared of getting sick he'd be acting somewhat irrationally. Anyways, here's a short SFW drabble:

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Throughout the history of Toril there’s one disease no cleric, druid or alchemist has been able to cure. 

The common cold. 

Faye had been snivelling all day, blaming it mostly on the cold weather the Gate experienced this winter. 

But then she sneezed. 

And she had never seen Rolan get out of the couch faster, stumbling and sweeping down a carafe from the table with his tail. 

“You’re sick” he said while he looked at her like she had just turned into a mindflayer. 

“I’m fine” Faye tried to reassure the wizard. “It’s probably just a cold” 

“Just a cold?” he snapped at her. “Just the most contagious disease known to this plane that bears no cure!” 

Faye was shocked and slightly amused by the exaggerated reaction. Rolan had never shown signs of being a germaphobe. He liked to keep things clean but never to an extreme extent. 

But this. This was new. 

Just as Faye was about to say something reassuring, the portal did the swooshy thing and Cal and Lia entered the tower. 

“I don’t feel well” Lia said, her voice hoarse and tired. 

“Me neither, I’ll see you tomorrow” Cal said in an equally tired voice. 

Rolan looked like he was about to combust. 

“I’m setting up quarantine” he said through gritted teeth. 

“You’re what?” Faye said, staring at him blankly. 

And that’s how she and the younger siblings ended up confined in their rooms. 

Rolan wasn’t an awful warden, in fact he would probably go down in history as one of the best. He made chicken soup that he teleported into the prisoners’ rooms, made sure they always had hot tea and made tonics for their sore throats. 

He wrote cute little notes that accompanied the daily rations. 

Eat. X 

Drink. X

Sleep. X 

Faye suspected Cal and Lia got similar notes except the Xs. 

But Faye was bored. Sure, she was unwell. Her body ached and her nose was clogged up but she’d much rather be getting at least something done than just laying in bed all day. 

She had been in solitary confinement for one and a half days when there was a knock on the door. Excited by the fact that anything at all happened she jumped from her spot in the bed to open. She opened the door just an inch to find Cal and Lia. 

“Quickly, let us in” Lia whispered and didn’t wait for an answer before she had pushed herself inside with Cal right behind. 

Faye carefully closed the door to not make a sound as it shut and gave the siblings a questioning look. 

“So, this is your first time getting a cold while living with Rolan” Lia said as she walked over to the bed. 

“Is he like this every time?” Faye asked. 

“More or less, he’s better now though” Cal said. “One time mum had to tell him off for trying to lock us up in the attic” 

“So, me and Cal always pretend it’s a fun sleepover situation instead” Lia chimes in. “If you’re up for it?” 

“Fuck yeah I am” Faye blurted out, unable to contain her excitement for just being able to talk to someone. 

So, the three pyjama-clad captives settled in bed, Lia in the middle and Cal and Faye on each side. 

They played cards, they chatted. Cal got a bit worse (men just can’t handle a simple cold) and fell asleep. Faye and Lia continued talking into the small hours of the night before they too were claimed by sleep. 

Faye woke up a bit worse for wear, but not as bad as the tall tiefling staring at the three of them from the door. She shot him a crooked and apologetic smile as she pondered on what new quarantine rules he’d set up now that they’ve been caught. 

But then Rolan snivelled. 

“I’ve succumbed to your illness” he muttered, approaching the bed with a face that can only be described as completely miserable. “Scoot” 

There was not much room to scoot, sure their bed was big, but not four-people-big. Lia got an accidental elbow to the ribs and Cal almost fell off the bed on the other side as Rolan squeezed himself into the small space that was available to him. 

The younger siblings quickly excused themselves and left the room, for all of their sakes. 

Faye wrapped her arms around Rolan, he was warmer than normally and still shivered. She wondered how long he waited until he admitted to himself that he too was unwell. 

“If I die –” 

“You’re not dying from a cold” Faye cut him off. 

“If I die, and since we’re not married yet, you have no claim to the tower” he said, ignoring her remark. 

“Not married yet?” 

“That’s not the point of what I’m trying to say” he dismissed her, completely ignoring the grin spread on her face. “Cal and Lia could in theory kick you out, don’t let them” 

“I really don’t think they would” she said firmly. Actually she was quite sure the only way she’d be kicked out of the tower was if she were to hurt Rolan and she’d most likely be taking a shortcut from the balcony if that were to happen. 

“I should put it down in writing” he blurted out, sitting up so quickly he almost fell out of the bed. “Get my business in order before…” 

“You’re not dying from a cold, you silly man!” 

She pulled him back into a lying position, smothering him with enough blankets to keep a bugbear down. She wiped some sweat beads from his forehead and the wizard’s face finally relaxed. Faye figured she could sleep a bit more now that she was next to him.

[anystalker707]

Anything? Anything.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 1 200 Summary: It was a simple request for Sanji that turned into an absolute teasing mess. Tags: Very boyfriend content / Sanji using lipstick / Lots of affection

A/N: idc if this shit is out of character, im dumb. pls enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Sanji had developed such a devotion for you that it was even weird for the others not to see him simping for every woman that crossed his way, but it was also comforting seeing him receive back all the dedication and love he expressed. Though, it was annoying how he wouldn’t shut up about you sometimes; every single thing managed to remind him of you, and send him into a spiral of chaos. In fights, it would be rather good that someone brought your name up—he would do whatever he could not to leave you alone at the end of the day—, Zoro could already see their enemy dead whenever they happened to mention you.

With all of this taken on account, it was no new Sanji would do absolutely anything for his lover. His boundaries weren’t exactly clear, that way. A lot of conversation was needed to solve this and reassure him that you wouldn’t leave just because he told you that he wasn’t okay with something, and thankfully evolved into the harmony you had today.

Nonetheless, it was still a little difficult to offer new things to Sanji without always knowing clearly if he would accept it because he really wanted it or because he just wanted to make you happy. He could notice something bothered you every single time, on the other hand, of course; Sanji read you like a book. It was the main reason you were sort of avoiding him today—avoiding handling his sad worried face trying to figure out what was wrong with you, even more when it was a stupid situation. Like today.

The idea was very fucking good, though it was maybe just a little awkward, in your mind. You weren’t ready to have your little mental imagines killed down so easily. Why did he have to be so hot, anyways?

Sanji suddenly showed up on the deck, looking around until his eyes softened at your sight, and waltzed over with his hands clasped together. A kiss was pressed to your cheek once he was close enough. “(Y/n), baby, what’s wrong? Are you falling sick? Are you hungry? Do you need a hug? I’ve barely seen the light of my life today!” He took a seat next to you on the stairs.

“Sorry, San!! No, no, there’s nothing wrong at all!” You shook your head frantically, pulling him for a tight hug he immediately melted in—he didn’t deserve to feel bad because of a stupidity of yours, a tempest in a teapot. “I’ve just... been thinking.”

There was a short moment of silence before he sat up properly to look at you, taking both of your hands in his. “About what? Did I do anything to hurt you, mon amour?”

“I— No, of course not, you never did!” You brought your hands up to give his knuckles a little kiss. “Sanji, y’know you can always refuse to do stuff and let me know how you feel about anything, right?” The little pout you received in response had you raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

“Yes, my love!” Sanji squeezed your hands. “I know you’re very understanding of everything! I couldn’t be luckier!” Reacting to his pampering was a rollercoaster—sometimes you’d feel your ego burst, sometimes feel like you didn’t deserve it, but you’d never give it up, no matter what.

Your eyes flickered over his form for a long moment, watching Sanji throw his nose in the air with a grin, an expression that was exchanged for a curious one at how you let go of one of his hands so you could reach into your pocket. “Would you try it on?” In your hand, there was a tube of... of what? Sanji furrowed his eyebrows before he reached for it curiously, uncapping it. Oh. Dark red lipstick—it almost sent his cheeks burning in the same tone. “You can always say no—”

“Of course I would, mon amour! Anything for you!” Sanji had that stupid smile on his face as he put his cig aside and rolled the lipstick until just enough pointed out, and looked at himself through the small mirror on the top of the cap.

Well, shit. Was he just being impulsive or did he really mean it? “Sanji, you don’t need to...” Your words faded at the sight of the blond just putting on the lipstick. He smacked his lips together before turning to you with a smirk. That really was... something. It wasn’t a sight you were used to, of course, so it would take you a while of observing so you could finally decipher whether you liked it or not. “It is... Um, you look...”

Sanji chuckled lowly, letting his strands fall more over his face. “Well, my love, I’m not quite wearing it for the looks, no! It’s for a much more honorable reason!”

“And that would be...?”

His lips met your cheek before you could even finish. He didn’t even stop there, continuing to press kisses to your face until his lips crashed against yours, a desperate kiss that demanded more from you. You could taste the sweet lipstick on the kiss.

“Sanji...” You sat there dumbfounded while he ran the lipstick over his lips again. What the hell was that? Not that it was bad, no—it hard your heart skipping beats and your mind all fuzzy.

Sanji pressed kisses all over your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and even daring to stain the collar of your shirt. “Hm? What, mon chéri? Cat got your tongue?” His lips ticked against your skin, but all you could do in response was to spill out some incoherent words breathlessly, barely able to even hold onto his shoulders for support, looking at the sky, though staring at the nothing. He pulled away just enough to meet your eyes and blinked with an innocent air that would trick anyone who didn’t know him any better, and also those smeared lips—you wouldn’t be surprised if he just straight up killed you at some point. You were just collapsed back, with edges of the higher steps of the stairs digging into you back, and his arms wrapped around your torso, and you didn’t even fucking know when that happened.

A chuckle came from Sanji before he could continue what he was doing, his lips pressing butterfly kisses up and down your neck before they started getting longer, lingering over your skin with sucks and nibbles. It felt as if he couldn’t be close enough to you, as if he’d never get enough of you. His mouth reached a particular spot that compelled your hands to wrap around the fabric of his shirt tightly whilst you fought against the sound that threatened to escape your throat, pressing your eyes shut.

“Where is he...” A voice said, a voice that didn’t belong to you nor to Sanji, but it wouldn’t be a problem, right? They— “What the fuck are you two doing?! Don’t you even have enough decency to get a bedroom?!! You’re even letting the goddamn food burn!!!” Zoro stood there, having you jumping and pulling away from each other the moment he started fucking shouting.

Not like you could get your thoughts straight properly to react in time, hence you sort of sat there, blushing at how you were caught, but also at how you kept replaying the recent events in your mind in an attempt to process everything.

“Mon Dieu, the food!” Sanji gasped, immediately pushing himself up to his feet. “I’m sorry, mon amour! I’ll be back later!”

“Look at your state!” Zoro continued shouting. “What do you think you’re doing to let food burn just because you want some kisses, you ero-cook?!”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[s0lam33y]

I CARE 4 YOU

[shuririweek, day 1: fluff]

summary: basic sick-fic. Shuri is hella stubborn, that’s abt it.

A/n: Ive had to redo this a good 3 times. Anyway, this was requested on my old acc and I’ve finally finished up, hopefully whoever requested this is still around 😭

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

I love going on missions. More than anything. But this one had to get cut short once I got news of Shuri being sick. I’ve only been gone for 48 hours, I’ve just landed back from a mission only to hear that my beautiful wife is sick. And I thought that shit was a joke because how the fuck does she get sick? She’s got one of the most powerful plants in her system and not only that we’ve got the most advanced technology known to man.

I crack the bedroom door open only to find Shuri turned into a mass of blankets wrapped up in our thick comforter. I drop my duffel bag in front of the door and walk towards her, peeling away the layers of the covers.

I hear her heavy breathing and I see her pretty face in real-time for the first time in 2 days. Her cheeks are hot and sweat dampens her skin.

“Hey, baby…” I whisper doing my best to keep my volume down. She doesn’t respond, her eyes shut close and her body curled into itself. I gather her in my arms and it’s enough for her to blink her pretty eyes open.

The white in her eyes is red and her skin is damn near dripping.

“Have you not had any medicine?” I question, whether she shouldn’t be doing this bad with how much tech we have. But knowing her, she’s so damn stubborn. I should know better than to ask, her throat is probably scratchy.

“I’m fine.” She mumbles trying to turn around but her body is too weak to.

I move her curls out of the way and look at her clothing, my red MIT sweats and a white shirt, the same outfit she was in when I last FaceTimed her right before landing.

She hasn’t left her room at all, I’m assuming while I peel back her shirt to feel how damp it is, I touch the skin along her abdomen and it’s hot to the touch.

I grab her wrist to navigate her kimoyo beads and begin to administer some herbal medicine.

“Griot, give me Shuri’s Stats please,” I order.

“Griot, don’t do that.” She groans, grabbing my wrist.

“I’m sorry, Your Highnesses, whose orders do I follow?” Griot questions and she reacts too slowly for him to catch anything.

“Mine,” I answer clearly.

“The Queen’s temperature is at 101 degrees Fahrenheit, she’s been in and out of sleep for 30 hours, her heart rate is at 69 beats per minute,”

The only thing alarming is her temperature.

“Shuri, I ain't tryna scold you right now, but why didn’t you say nothing?” I ask only for her to groan.

“M’fine, it happens.”

“Walk then,” I tell her and she looks at me like I’m crazy. Then she rubs her eyes and sits up slowly. She’s only sitting up because I’m supporting her back so I let go only for her back to hit the bed.

“Fuck off.” She curses and it makes me laugh harder than I have all week. When I’m done laughing, I help her off the bed and onto the sofa bed that’s across from it.

I change the sheets for her to her favorite dark purple ones and clean up all the stuff she’s left around the room.

“Griot, did the Queen get her shots this year?” I ask, I’m not sick and no one else in the citadel is. I settle next to her and she’s not asleep, just blinking slow as fuck.

“Yes, however, it had left her system once she took the herb,”

She had a challenge to the throne a week ago by someone from the river tribe, and she was fine at first. Maybe that entire month of training drained her body a lot.

“Is there any other reason why she could be so sick?”

“The Queen hasn’t had a sufficient amount of water in a couple of days, Her body is also trying to handle the effects of the herb being back in her body,” Griot says as I place her head onto my thighs and watch her lie down. Her lips are parted just a little and her breathing is so shallow.

“I’m fine like I’m okay,” She insists.

“Dude, literally shut up,” I say and it earns me a dopey smile.

She’s shaking a little and her clothes are nearly drenched I feel her forehead with the back of my hand. She’s nowhere near burning up. Her skin feels normal just damp. What the fuck is goin on?

I’m confused, this AI ain’t helping me, I hate this.

I get up slowly so I don’t move too fast. I’ve spent days bandaging her up as she has for me but this is sickness, not wounds. There’s not a single scientific explanation I can think of that explains this.

“Griot, what should I do?”

“Keep her awake, A very hot shower should help, a couple of herbs can be found in the garden that should be able to ease her pain, I’ll make a list for you and you may demand it once ready.”

Sounds like a plan.

….

“Shuri, get in the shower,” I order only for her to glare at me.

“No, you don’t see how hot it is? Are you mad?” She asks, sniffling while steam fills up the bathroom.

“You’ve fought wars, Shuri, get in the shower, ‘it’ll help I swear,” I tell her. She’s always been so picky about the temperature in the shower which is one of the reasons why we can’t ever shower together. She loves her a cold shower and I can’t stand it. I wouldn’t take a cold shower if you paid me. She says they help her get ready for the day but I would never.

“You already naked man, just get in the water,” I mutter, she’s only in a towel and she’s already undressed. I need her to just get in.

“A’ight listen, man, If you don’t get in the damn shower-“

“Then what?” She challenges, letting out a little cough while she’s at it. I’ve lifted her before, that’s only happened recently. I wasn’t able to do that when I first met her. But I’ll do it again if I have to.

“Shuri, please, it’s not that bad.” She steps closer and puts her hand out to feel the water.

“It’s too hot.”

“I’ll get in with you.” I offer.

“I guess it’s not so bad then.”

…

“Shuri, open your mouth,” I tell her, calmly as I pour the syrup into a cup. She looks at me in disgust and shakes her head like a kid. It’s medicinal syrup, made here that I take when I’m sick and I feel better by the morning.

But unlike Shuri, I ain’t this fucking stubborn.

She turns over in bed till she’s lying on her back. After a couple of seconds, her mouth opens slightly for her to breathe.

“Fine.” She groans before taking it all in one sip. Her lips curl in disgust before she lifts the comfort over her body and I can hear her breathing as she huffs. She turns so her back faces me.

“You’re acting like a kid.” I chuckle when she coughs.

“You’re the height of one.”

“You sure you sick? ‘Cause you got a lot of slick-ass comments.” She doesn’t say anything and I realize it’s because she’s finally asleep.

We end up falling asleep soon after and she wakes up, refreshed, earlier than I do. Like she was never sick. I have to get back to my mission but I wake up feeling dizzy, my head is pounding.

I feel her hand on my forehead, gently caressing my baby hairs while I do my best to sit up.

“Tell them you can’t make it to the mission.” She murmurs.

[jakesguitarsolo]

happy Sexy Sunday!! I know it's a bit late but I just need to get this out. I always get INCREDIBLY horny before my period. (well I mean there're several other signs like mood swings and incredibly thirsty) and let's just say Jake, being the ✨fertility god✨ (and the amazing boyfriend) that he is, can always tell from the little things. for example you are being moody and just snapped at him but immediately felt bad afterwards, and he just understands and "takes care" of you in every way

(not me being frustrated and yes, horny, with this thought plaguing my mind and so grateful that it's sexy sunday so I can vent it out, thank you😂

I got this submission back in December, started writing, and then lost all motivation to write. BUT I AM BACK! Happy Sexy Sunday everyone.

SWEET BOYFRIEND JAKE LETS GO…

Warnings: blood (it’s not what you think…), dirty talk, and fingering (f!receiving).

There you were, angry and insanely frustrated that you were the one standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes after the dinner you just made for yourself and Jake. He had been taking his last bite when he jumped up and grabbed his guitar because a melody popped into his head, and he absolutely couldn’t forget it. This left you stuck with dishes… again. Maybe you were just moody because you were about to start your period in a few days or maybe you were sick of Jake’s sudden “inspiration” leaving you with the house chores way too often lately… Either way, you were over it.

Sitting at the table, Jake is ferociously scribbling note after note on the legal pad in front of him between intermittent strums of his acoustic guitar. He couldn’t see your face from where he was sitting and he dare not glance up from his work, but you rolled your eyes anyway hoping with some small part of you that he would realize that you were upset.

Your attitude clearly got the best of you because you accidentally slammed a glass onto the drying rack, shattering it to pieces. “Fuck!” You shouted, noticing the blood that trickled from the fresh cut to your right hand. Jake rushed over to you, turned on the sink and put your hand under the running water. “Baby, you okay? How did you manage to do that?” He inquired. You blurted out, “Oh gee, I don’t know Jake… Maybe if I had some fucking help once in a while, this wouldn’t have happened!” You closed your eyes and sighed with regret as soon as the words spilled from your mouth.

Jake brought the palm of your hand up to his mouth as he licked up the drop of blood about to fall and gave your palm an open mouthed kiss. Your heart rate started to slow and the anger you had let bottle up and explode started to fade. “I’m sorry, love. I know I’ve been neglecting the house work lately. I’ve just been so stressed about getting this new music done… That’s no excuse though. I’ve been neglecting my girl too… Let me bandage this up for you. Let me find a way to make it all up to you.”

Grabbing your waist, Jake led you to the couch before running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When he returned, he applied disinfectant and gauze to the wound and gently wrapped your hand with tape. Once completely done, he kissed the palm of your hand again and continued peppering kisses up your arm to your shoulder…. In between kisses he cooed, “So… sorry… baby. Gonna… take care… of my…. girl… I… promise…”

Ascending his way up your neck, he took his time lightly sucking a love mark in that special spot right beneath your ear. This spot made you weak, and Jake knew that as he memorized every inch of your body like he memorized his guitar. Your head involuntarily fell back to allow him more access to you. He inched his lips up to your jaw then hovered centimeters away from your mouth as he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, opening you up to him. Swiping his tongue across your lip, he paused for a moment before devouring you. The way you melted into his kiss… No one ever made you feel like that and ever could.

A wave of heat washed over you and your breath hitched when you felt his hand lightly trace over the waistband of your leggings. He released his lips from yours to gaze at your face while he toyed with your leggings, pulling them down lower. Something between a sigh and a whimper escaped your throat when he finally made contact with your pussy. His skilled fingers teased your entrance, collecting your juices before rubbing slow, soft circles on your clit.

“Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. Okay? I promise. Just relax for me…” Jake gently pushed you back onto the couch with his body weight pressed against you, again attaching himself to your lips. His kiss started getting sloppy and desperate when he felt you buck your hips up into his hand silently begging for more. He groaned as he swallowed down all your pretty moans and whimpers that you just couldn’t hold back. Jake took that as permission to sink two fingers into you, curling them upwards and hitting that sweet spot inside you that only he had been able to find.

“Fuck, Jake… right there, ah it feels so good. Don’t stop…” you pleaded. Jake chuckled as he said, “You like that, sweet girl? I can feel you dripping into my palm. Gripping my fingers like the needy girl you are, huh? I knew I was neglecting my pretty girl and her pretty pussy.” When he started massaging your clit with his thumb simultaneously, you knew you were done for.

You squeezed your eyes shut and your pussy clenched as Jake continued to work you expertly. “Come on, doll. Let go… Give it to me. You look beautiful when you unravel just for me.” As always, his words were all it took for your body to succumb. Your orgasm hit you so hard you couldn’t breathe or move. Jake didn’t stop though, he was prolonging the ecstasy that was washing over you. Drowning you in it until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your vision was blurry as you opened your eyes.

Jake slowed and finally stilled his movements, leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet, angel. I’m just getting started… First, you got my fingers. Now, m’gonna make you fall apart on my tongue until finally you’re squirming and begging to come all over my cock. I think that’ll make you feel better, don’t you?” He whispered with a smirk.

Oh yeah, you were in for it tonight… and you literally welcomed him with open arms.

[angelyuji]

yandere superman headcanons

tw kidnapping, "nice" guys/incel behavior (kinda), isolation as punishment, manipulation, yandere stuff... the usual

yandere clark kent x gn!reader

diana prince is next guys I LOVE WOMEN!!! lemme know abt any tags i miss or just any other superman thoughts (yandere or not) cuz i love superman a lot

hes so big and buff and strong

hhnhsdngnnhnhnngnfhgnnngngn

sorry

ive been obsessed with superman and lois recently and i thought to myself “i need him so bad id do unspeakable things”

ALSOOOOOO have u guys seen the new superman??? ohmygodddd HELLOOO SAILOR

anyway here we go :)

sweetest kindest angel alive… at first glance

actual clark is genuinely the best sweetest guy in the world and i don’t think that would technically change but if anything he’d start buying into the incel/nice guy pills and that’s what would warp him

he’s literally sooo sweet to you (i cant get over how much a of cutie pie clark kent is)

ok pause lemme start from the beginning

when he first met you, he was e n a m o u r e d like he thinks youre the most beautiful person in the world type stuff

at first, the relationship is normal, you guys are friends, study buddies, coworkers, yk normal shit

he’s still super in love but hes kinda aware that its one-sided and he can’t make you like him

you guys are super close friends tho

but as his crush progresses, he starts to consult more than his friends and normal relationship advice, he starts to consult incel chatrooms and subreddits

he wants to go further than friendship with you, but all the guys in these chatrooms are telling him awful things abt u. for example:

‘hi! requesting help for getting out of the friendzone with my friend’ i’ve been friends with them for a long time, but i see them as more than a friend. ive had to watch as they date all these awful people and i just want them to see me more than a friend. any advice is appreciated!

– dude these ungrateful bitches are never gonna see u

– people like them never see the good guy until its too late

– u just gotta make them like u, nobody understands the nice guy until u make them

– all of these responses are so weird, just be normal and flirt a little!

ur stupid fuckign idiot nice guys don’t get a chance till u make them give u chance

women are so fucking stupid

reading all these “helpful” comments really warped his mindset

he went from innocent farm boy to incel misogynist becuz

they have to be right! like why else have u not given him the time of day as more than a friend

so soon, ur gonna notice these changes

he went from being supportive bestie to making snide comments, putting you down, making moves on you that you clearly don’t want

ur hurt, heartbroken, your friend became something unrecognizable

u’ll ask for some distance, just to think abt if u want to continue the friendship and clark will realize that he can’t make you like him from just this

so you’re gonna go home, take a nap, and next thing you know you’re getting snatched from bed by freaking superman

he genuinely believes he’s done the right thing

he’ll bring u to the fortress first. he has everything set up already, so u wont freeze or starve to death

i wont bore with the details but he would NEVER lay a hand on u

that’s NOT my superman

its more like

“i need you to eat something.” clark begs you, his eyes filled with worry. he had crouched down next to where you sat. clark had given you free-reign around his fortress, but you chose to sit in the corner near the entrance.

“fuck you.” you turn away from him, anger dripping from your voice. you haven’t eaten since he brought you to his ice castle, but you can’t remember how long ago that was. you missed home, your friends, your family. you missed freedom. you hear clark sigh.

“you’re gonna get sick if you keep going like this, (y/n).” his hand touches your face and you slap his hand away. you know there was no way you could hurt superman, but he holds his hand looking hurt, and you feel a twinge of guilt. he holds out a bag from Big Belly Burgers and places it next to you.

you scooch back, your back hitting the wall, not willing to back down. “i’ll eat if you let me go.” you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but you would do anything to go home.

you see him rub his forehead in frustration, “this isn’t working.” he mutters to himself. you don’t say anything, wanting to see what he would do. instead of trying to fight you again, clark picks up the bag. “i’ll come back when you’re ready.” he says.

“come back? what are you talking ab-” in one blast of air, clark was gone and you were alone.

days had gone by, you felt like you were going crazy from the solitude and the hunger. thankfully, clark had left mountains of water bottles for you, so you tried to fill up with those. it wasn’t enough, you had started to miss your kidnapper’s company after many conversations with yourself. all you could do was sleep or stare at the wall, blankly. after a week, you couldn’t take the isolation. “clark?” you call out, weakly. not a moment passes before he appeared before you.

his eyes were filled with pity and worry, “are you ready, sweetheart?” his hands cup your face and you lean into the warmth, nodding.

he could never hurt you. that entire week away was killing him, but the commenters were right. you just needed to know that he was all you needed.

[skelebellie]

MIGUELITO

[miguel o’hara x reader drabbles]

[SFW]

warning: slightly saucy? not NSFW but miguel is down bad.

—————————

r/n: am i late to the party? technically, no. i saw atsv opening night and another time. but i’ve just been *hyperfixating* for soooo long that i just now got out of my hole. also, i survived summer semester and the scheduale of college classes is regulating me (i work hard but autism works harder).

anyways im feral for this man in a way concerning to feminism. but its less of a sexual thing and that fact that he is so me fr. anyways, enjoy. (i can’t fix him but i can fuck him)

—————————

miguel o’hara is not a lover into PDA. the last thing he wants is to have jess and peter b. breathing down his neck, teasing him about how hes getting ‘soft’. but in the quaint moments of the night or the rare moments the two of you are in his office together, he can’t help but touch you. a lingering brush against your arm turns incessant, craving the feeling of your soft flesh under his hand. if he could describe you, it would be “home”, and your skin is his hearth. more often than not, you find yourselves both working on separate things, only connected by the grasp miguel has on your hand.

that twink (affectionately) is the worst to sleep with. unconsciously, he wraps his whole body around you, encasing you into a koala-like grip with no room for wiggling. its the way his brain runs while he sleeps, subconsciously afraid that when he wakes up you will be gone. relishing the way your plush body feels against his skin like a cloud.

w/ latine!reader, you try making tamales with him. you wanted to bring some to a group dinner with jess, peter b., and ben. you for sure thought he would be good at it, but he keeps ripping the husks with his claws as he tries to hold it down, ending up in him getting frustrated. you relish him to the duty of watching over the fillings so that they don’t overcook. nonetheless, he sulks until he can get a bite of your cooking.

one more latine!reader, but you make him picadillo when he got sick once and he started sobbing into the soup.

i head cannon that miguel has a physical preference for someone with a little chub or muscle, just something his claws can dig into. so when you come to the training room to catch on some much needed strength training, he can’t look at you. the way your spandex shorts dig into your thighs, causing the fat to bend underneath them, haunts him for days. and dont even get him started when you move and your shorts roll up your thighs. (from a certified thunder thigh homie)

when he has late night missions or stays at HQ until the stars shine, he always feels bad for coming into your shared living quarters. but the alternative was getting yelled at by you for sleeping at HQ. so silently, he tries to sneak into bed and not wake you. but every time his heart blossoms when you roll over, calling for him. “hnng- miggy?” your voice comes out, cracking with exhaustion as you roll over, hand reaching out to search for your personal heater. “sí, mi vida, im right here.” miguel whispers, guiding your hand towards him as he gets under the covers. voice still soft as he tries not to completely wake you up the moment you find his body your scooting closer to him, wrapping your arms comfortably around his waist as you lean your head against his chest, the gentle thump of his heartbeat lulling you back to sleep. in moments like this, he wish he had his phone on him, adoring your sleeping face as his hands run through your scalp.

definitely one of those dads that are like “put that animal back from once it came, we are not keeping it” and then like two hours later you find miguel conked out on the couch with your new pet asleep on his chest.

loves taking photos of you, especially little polaroids. he likes having a reminder that your there, and that the moments between you two are ingrained in pictures.

you start copying his curses. one time you bumped into the corner of the table only to stutter out “hijo de chingada”, only to look up to miguel almost pissing himself with laughter.

miguel o’hara wears socks and slippers in his downtime dont @ me.

[redaliveviolation]

SPOILERS FOR BATMAN 148!!

Am I a bad person for laughing when I heard that Jason got killed off again? No, here’s why and how I think he should die instead:

This is gonna be a long one so strap in folks. I have sort of been cherry picking this whole run just because the writing has been so wishy washy, so much so that it’s genuinely made me lose an interest in DC. Comics lately have been pulling the weirdest things just for shock value, because they can’t write a half decent story line or character anymore. Their characters will have some growth and then it immediately gets destroyed a couple of issues later.

I’m sure you’ve heard it before (because we all agree) but there’s no real consequences in comics anymore. Characters get killed off at the end of an issue just for them to be revived within a few issues or if we’re going with Batman 148, literally the next one. There’s no legitimate stakes because everything that happens gets “fixed.” Tim gets shot through the throat? Eh he’ll be fine, he can walk it off and be up and running within an issue or two. Bruce starts acting erratic/insane (again)? Oh don’t worry it’s not actually Bruce it’s his alternate personality Zur-En-Arrh. Which, side note, is the stupidest fucking name/concept I’ve seen in a while, truly baffling.

Honestly, the only part of the run that I’ve seen so far that’s even a little bit interesting is Bruce literally changing Jason’s brain chemistry so that whenever adrenaline hits he has a fear response so bad it shuts him down. Let’s start off with, hey Bruce what the fuck? If he’s had a machine that can legitimately rewire a person’s brain in that way to make him incapable of killing, why in the world would you not use it on the rogues? And yes, I understand that some of them either don’t react to fear, embrace it, don’t care etc etc but if you have the technology to change their brain whos to say you can’t make that machine do whatever you want? It doesn’t have to be specifically fear. Maybe force their motor neurons to not respond whenever they experience an adrenaline rush so they physically cannot move and kill their prey. Moralistically, it’s not the most correct, obviously, but that’s just an example of an extreme. There’s a lot more acceptable things it could be used for and Batman never does. Having that as a plot point makes no sense logically when applying it to Bruce in any way. Even though he’s been written as straight up brain dead these last few years based on his decisions, Bruce is a very smart man and could absolutely find both a morally correct and smart/safe option using the machine. It doesn’t even make sense for him to have it seeing as he would have used it already and cut down on about half of his Gotham related problems. “Oh, but red! That would mean that we’d have to get rid of the Joker because the machine would have taken care of him.” GOOD, I’m sick of his ass, there are so many better rogues to pick from as a new arch enemy. The Joker is bland, predictable, and I could not give less of a fuck about him, he’s not compelling in any way.

Secondly, as fucked up as it is it could actually (unfortunately, I don’t like giving them any credit nowadays) be an insanely good way to kill off Jason and make it stick. Or, at least I think they should make it stick because again, actions have consequences and comics need to go back to that. Anyways, to sum it up it would most likely send Jason into cardiac arrest. The sympathetic nervous system (SNS) controls both the adrenaline and fear responses the machine would be “regulating.” The SNS triggers the fight/flight response and sends epinephrine (adrenaline) throughout the body, elevating heart rate and blood pressure. As soon as higher levels of epinephrine are produced the machine will kick on the fear response to “suppress” this, but instead of shutting off the flow of epinephrine and/or producing acetylcholine to lower heart rate, when the fear response is kicked into motion even more epinephrine will flood the system. It becomes a never ending cycle fueling itself, never ending fear. Your heart working that hard and fast for such an extended period of time would absolutely give out on you.

Personally, I think that would be an insane wake up call to everyone but for this he would need to stay dead and to stay dead for a while. As in several years at least. As stated earlier, long term consequences do not exist in DC (or at least Batman) comics anymore, everything gets turned around with not great writing or retconned or generally not accepted as canon. But a death like this would mean something. It wouldn’t just be death for shock value, it would be Jason Todd, one of Batman’s alleged greatest mistakes being put down like a dog and Bruce having to live with it. How would Bruce’s morals shift and change because of his death? Would he reconsider how he deals with rogues, would he retire, would he leave? How would his children react and retaliate? How would the rogues react seeing Batman inadvertently cause the death of his child in his pursuit of Justice?

The effect of Jason’s death was extremely significant on many characters and their development the first time it occurred, would it be more or less so this time? So many routes to pursue, it’s a horrifying concept when you think about how it would actually affect Jason which is why they’re never going to do anything about it. If you’re going to use a character death as a plot point it has to actually mean something, not a mindless death that’ll be cured quickly and with an incredibly inane line of “I’ve had practice dying.” Wow, you’re so original. I’m pretty sure I read that in some b-rated fic by a 14 year old two years ago. Also, maybe stop acting like Jason is the only one who has died and that he’s the most special because of it? Outside of Tim (because he’s never legit died in canon, only offshoots) practically everyone else in the family has died at one point. His personality is not just his death. It’s irritating and it’s poor writing.

TLDR: I’m right, DC’s wrong and their writing is shit. If Jason dies it needs to have an actual literary purpose and it needs to stick for it to mean anything.

[hamyilton]

Thinking about that Verstappen post I reblogged earlier, it’s interesting to me that on a site that’s very liberal and left-leaning, where racist or other bigoted beliefs are typically shut down right away, that so many people here are fans of MV. I’ve done some thinking on it and I believe his fans fall into these types of groups:

1.Max fans who were fans well before 2020 and formed strong emotional attachments (as he had never said anything outright offensive before this time, and ignoring the incident with Ocon). I believe that having to admit you liked Max before he did and said these shitty things and thus having to craft a whole new blog is simply too much of a task for people, and these are likely people that are big proponents of the fandom characterizations of Max that ignore his real personality and actions. So, these people are aware of his shitty actions but ignore it for the purposes of fandom.

2. People who were fans of his before 2020 and know about his actions but just don’t care, I guess to them racism and ableism are excusable if you really like someone/think they’re hot.

3. Fans that do not know the shitty things that Max has done and are truly ignorant. These are most likely people who started watching F1 after 2022 as I feel like it would be hard to watch the 2021 season without being aware of the controversies lol. They think people only dislike Max because of his domination and are also riding on the back of the popularity of lestappen which was (at least how it seems on Tiktok) a lot of peoples introduction to F1 fandom.

This has been sitting with me for a while, trying to reconcile how people could support someone who’s said racist things (including that he did not believe in BLM when Lewis approached him about support, disrespected Lewis’ father, refused to name him in interviews, drove recklessly like Monza 2021, and the use of slurs etc.) with the larger liberal and social justice oriented Tumblr community. Like, I do genuinely feel bad for people that liked Max in the time before he actively said and did more shitty things, but like, if you can really support someone who behaves so awfully and can be a real danger on track, I don’t believe you can call yourself a true advocate for equality and fairness. And I haven’t even mentioned Abu Dhabi 2021 yet but the fact that it’s remembered now as “drama” instead of one of the most egregious examples of a championship being manipulated against the sport’s only Black driver…like it makes me fucking sick to my stomach. So many people quit watching F1 because of that and I really don’t blame them because it showed the complete lack of integrity of the sport itself.

Anyway, this is something I’ve been thinking about for a while now considering I’ve had to block what feels like a hundred MV fans because it’s so upsetting to see. And to see people write Lewis/Max fanfiction it feels like I’m living in an alternate reality because how can people not know??

Anyway rant over.