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#i know its bad but i just like. it feels more and more like it's too much every goddamn fucking day
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Guardian Angel
CW: Stalking, people breaking into your apartment (Arkham Knight and others), people brushing off an obvious issue, and violence. Be warned, there are no angels in Gotham. ~2.2k words
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You have a stalker. Probably. Maybe. If you do, they're so good at covering their tracks that you're starting to believe you're just paranoid.
But it's the odd events, the trinkets moved slightly out of place, that have you checking over your shoulder.
There wasn't even any evidence at first. Your day had been completely normal. All you were doing was cooking dinner, when your nerves went on end, and goosebumps rose on your skin. The feeling of being watched, of being prey set in.
It didn't make sense, didn't have a reason, but you closed your curtains and triple checked your locks nonetheless. (The bat you keep by your bed slept next to you that night)
You would have forgotten about the incident entirely if, a week later, the same feeling crept up your spine while you walked home. You'd never walked faster to get to your building. You'd practically sprinted up the stairs to your apartment, and slammed to the door behind you.
Even within your home, it took almost the whole night for the feeling to fade.
Two times could be a coincidence, but then things started getting stranger.
You could have sworn you left your keys on the counter the night before, so why, why did you find them on the coffee table?
It makes you uneasy, almost sick, but you're already late to work. So you do the only thing you can, you brush it off.
Until it happens. A thing you can't brush off.
You knew you had used the last of the sugar yesterday. Knew it because you had made a mental note to pick some up the next time you went to the store.
But there's sugar. It's not a lot. Just enough to get you through a few days. Enough to make you think you might have just missed the last of it.
You know you're right. You know you were out of sugar and even if your coworkers laugh and tell you to get more sleep, that having an angel that refills your sugar can't be that bad, you know someone's been in your apartment.
You set traps, set cameras, get your locks changed, take note of everything. You don't get any evidence.
But you notice that your window doesn't squeak anymore when you open it. Your shower doesn't rattle when you go to start it. Your oven actually heats up to the temperature you set it to.
It's been like this for months now. And you're starting to believe that Gotham does have its own set of angels that go around trying to make your life a little easier.
That is until, you meet him.
You'd been unlucky. Gotten grabbed and dragged into the alley by your apartment by some haggard looking man waving a gun. It wasn't the first time you'd been mugged in Gotham, and you doubted it would be the last.
You had reluctantly pulled your wallet and phone out of your pockets and handed them off when an armored-clad person dropped between the gun and you.
At first, it was a relief. Being saved by Batman or Nightwing is practically a rite of passage in Gotham.
But then you watched the would-be mugger hit the ground with a sickening crunch of his arm. Then you watched your savior turn to face you, and you knew it was him.
You didn't have an explanation, you didn't have proof. You'd never even seen a glimpse of the helmet that hid his face before. But you knew. He's the one that's been following you. He's the one that's been in your home.
No amount of good deeds can overshadow how violating it feels, to know he's been watching you, observing you, doing things for you. You instinctively step back.
He only matches the distance you tried to create with a step of his own.
"Who are you? What do you want," You snap, sounding braver than you feel.
He doesn't answer at first, just tilts his head like he's studying you. You think it might be because he's never seen you think close before.
"I saved you," he says instead, completely avoiding your question. You wonder if he's expecting to be treated like a hero, if he's looking for your praise. It makes your stomach churn.
"You've been following you. You're the one who's been in my apartment," You protest, eyes darting.
You half expect someone to come help you. With the way he's dressed, with how he's carrying himself, he has to be some kind of new villian you missed on the news.
He straightens out at your accusation, "Have I?"
You almost falter, almost do chalk it up to paranoia, but you just knew. Every fiber of your being knows, "Yes," You breathe out instead, "You have."
He nods slowly, then turns his back to you. A part of you wants to run, to try and escape and scream and get as far away from the man who feels like he could make you disappear without a trace.
He bends down and scoops up your phone and wallet before turning back to you. You freeze when he walks closer, each step steady and measured, then extends your belongings to you. Your hand shakes when you snatch at them.
You half expect him to yank them away, to make you beg, but he doesn't. He only keeps his grip tight on them, forcing you to be connected while you tug helpless at your things.
He watches you with his head slightly cocked before speaking again, "And if I have?"
He's easy, robotic cadence makes your blood grow cold, "Then you should stop," You retort, voice as cold as your veins.
"And if I won't," he prompts, finally releasing his hold on your things.
"I'll go to the police," You threaten, stuffing your wallet and phone back into your pockets.
"They can't help you," he warns. It makes you uneasy, that he makes no attempt to keep space between you. Even if his body language doesn't seem dangerous, everything else about him does.
"They can contact Batman," You try instead.
He laughs. It sounds humorless, empty, "He can't help you either."
You lose your nerve then, when he pats your cheek, and the guns holstered to his side seem to glint at you. "Get home," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're some kind of pet.
And then he's gone, leaving you to an alley empty of anything, save for you and the mugger crumpled to the ground. All you can do is go home. Sleep doesn't come for you that night.
He's sloppy, now that he knows you know. You can tell it's on purpose.
Flashes of glowing blue outside your window, your things carelessly shifted about your apartment, the broken fan that hasn't worked since you moved in left on and spinning when you come home from work.
The only place he hasn't seemed to touch is your bedroom. You're not sure if it's because he's showing some slightest form of respect or if he's simply too good at hiding his tracks for you to notice.
Both options make you feel anxious, and you constantly comb over your things for proof of his presence.
You rack your brain over it, lose sleep over it, but you can't come up with one idea of who he is and why he's doing this.
There's nothing on him in the news, nothing on the internet, not even a whisper on the streets.
It feels like it's all one big, sick game to him when your favorite flowers start showing up at your door, when your gas tank fills itself.
When you tell your coworkers, in a near panic, about your rent being mysteriously paid, they tell you it's harmless, it's kind of sweet, really.
Shouldn't you just be grateful that someone's doing all that for you? Shouldn't you be thankful to have an angel looking out for you in this city?
But you know it's not harmless. You know he's capable of so much more. You know he's no angel.
The sound of the mugger's arm snapping still haunts you.
But you don't know what to do. You're stuck, on edge, and slowly coming to terms with having to live like this forever.
That is, until your bad luck seems to get even worse. You were in your pajamas, already half asleep as you're lounging on your couch, when your world gets thrown into chaos.
There's a click in your apartment door's lock, and you have the terrifying realization that tonight's the one night you'd forgotten to throw the deadbolt.
"I told ya I could get the keys to this floor. And barely anybody lives in this building afta what happen ta Murphy," the heavy Gotham accent fills your apartment and three men file into your living room like they own it.
They freeze when they see you, and you don't hesitate to sprint for your fire escape.
You've just managed to throw your window open when one of them grabs you around the middle and hauls you back, throwing you to the floor. Your head knocks against the ground, and everything spins.
You think you whimper as they start bickering. "You said no one would be here!"
"They weren't supposed ta be! It's all supposed ta be empty," one of them snaps back. It only makes your head pound and your vision swim.
You try to push yourself off the floor, but a boot lands at the center of your back and forces you back to the ground, "We have to kill them."
Murmurs of reluctance fill the room, and for a second, you think you'll get to live.
"They saw our faces," You hear the telltale sound of a gun clicking off its safety, "I'll do it."
You flinch with the shot sounds, but no more pain comes. The weight comes off your back, and a body collapses to the floor next to you.
You lift your head just enough to see a familiar blur of blue charge at the remaining two men.
It's not so much of a fight as it is an execution. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but anything you can't see you can hear.
There's no mercy in his actions, all wrath and fury, and you want to laugh because, in a way, he is your guardian angel. An avenging angel, pummeling the people who threatened you into something unrecognizable.
You're sure how long it lasts, how long you hear his fists connect to their flesh. But eventually, your apartment goes quiet. The sound of fabric shuffling reaches your ears, and calloused hands carefully help you move until you're sitting up.
Warm palms press to your face you realize he's taken his gloves off. You force your eyes to open, morbidly curious if he's removed his helmet, too. You're not sure why you're disappointed he hasn't.
"Saved me again," You mumble, words almost slurring.
"You're not safe here," he says softly, and his thumb runs over your cheek like he's trying to comfort you.
"They didn't think anyone lived here," You supply, but he apparently doesn't find that very reassuring.
"Let's get you out here," he says instead, and you blame it on your head injury for being impressed at how he doesn't show any signs of struggling when he picks you up and cradles you to his chest.
"Don't have anywhere to go," you say weakly, mentally trying to do the math on how much a safe hotel would cost at this time of night.
The moonlight seems to give his helmet an odd shine as you stare hazily at him. It almost looks like a halo.
"I have a place," he tells you, already carrying you out of your apartment window.
That snaps you out of your thoughts. It makes you frown, even in your dazed state, you know you don't want to go with him. That even with the trick of the light, he's no angel.
You start to squirm, "No– no, wait–"
"You need somewhere safe to recover," he says, and he doesn't seem to notice your fidgeting. Your heart leaps to your throat, at how securely he's holding you. With anyone else, it would have felt like a promise of protection.
"I don't trust you, you're not safe," You stumble out, head growing heavy with each step he takes from your apartment.
"No one's safe. But I don't have any plans on hurting you," he murmurs, seemingly more occupied with getting you to wherever he's planning to take you.
"But you could," You exhale out, and your voice sounds weak even to yourself.
That makes him pause, and his helmet tips as if he's focusing on you, "Maybe, but I wouldn't like it."
You want to argue more, demand he set you down. But your brain feels so foggy, and you're so tired and drained that your head just kind of finds itself on his shoulder.
"You can sleep," he says, and your eyes fall shut at how soft he sounds, "I'll keep watch."
You really do want to protest, but his shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. You can't help but think, as you drift off, that your angel might have fallen far lower than you can handle.
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reshinless · 3 days
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Been seeing alot of spiderman Kinich content on the clock app and this gave me an idea
Reader gets gwen stacy'd and kinich fails to save them lol then he wakes up and then they bang
──── through the phone mask
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⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. before he goes, how about a peck, yeah through his mask!
⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. spiderman!kinich x gn!afab!reader (this will end up in smut, so !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!) angst + comfort (in a way?? death mention but no actual death happens! just a bad dream)
⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. oooo i could not stop thinking about this during class!!
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"mwa!" you cheer- briefly backing away as you admire you boyfriend, kinich, that puts his mask on. you pray that this spiderman stuff didn't pressure him at all.
"mmm... one more?" as he turned around to face you again. you chuckled as you tilted your head, stepping closer to the window sill he crouched on. "one more? i think you've had enough for today." a teasing tone present in you sonorously.
he gave you a pleading look in hopes to earn accolade (in which this case is a kiss. or two. or three.) you could giggle, feeling the way he still tried to kiss you through the mask he wore, concealing his identity to all, except you of course.
"mmmwa!" you brush your lips against the fabric that kept all of this a secret. you were so pretty when you smiled. he likes that little dimple that appears on your cheek when you grinned- or maybe the mole on your neck right there. mmmaybe he should count them soon.
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but when there's a moment where kinich saves everyone but you, he'd never forgive himself. when there's a moment where kinich can catch everyone when they're falling but you. when there are gonna be moments that only star him, and missing you. like how a seed would long for a soil bed, or how the moonlight doesn't shine without its sun.
he was terrified of losing someone as precious as you were. for as long as you both lived, he wanted to spend as much time with you. his love language was all about spending time with you, and doing things for you, he knew you could handle yourself, but he loves knowing you rely on him for a few things (even if they're simple). so losing you would be losing a huge part of himself.
in all the years you both got to spend together, you spent it along side your best wingwoman; mualani. growing up by both of your sides, he never felt alone, or unneeded. he felt everything was finally coming together.
so when he saw the scene before him- it was you. being stabbed in the stomach by a spike below the now-broken bridge. even in death you were so pretty. your head was laid down on his lap, barely opening your eyes, just enough to let a few tears trickle down the softness of your cheeks.
"i'm.. sorry i couldn't do enough for you." were the words you whispered, holding his cheek before finally passing on to the next world.
no he couldn't handle the scene at all. and only now is when he realizes- he should spend more time. he'll make sure you won't feel like that when he meets you again. he knows he'll recognize you. he'd know you from anywhere, anytime, any appearance, anywho.
kinich wakes up in tears, clear tear stains on the place he rest his face into. your pjs have small marks, drops of tears where they'd landed off his face. your eyes flutter open a few seconds later, realizing he's no longer in your arms.
"kin? wh.. what's wrong? why are you crying?" you immediately got up to wipe the small sobs off his cheeks. "..you're still here.. thank god, you're still here." he suddenly hugs you, fitting his head into your nape. his hold was tight, and affectionate. enough to know that he's happy that you're still present.
"yeah, i'd never leave. was.. was it a dream?" you asked, massaging his scalp to soothe his stress. he could only hum in response, he felt a little pathetic to admit that he was, but it was the first step to accepting it.
"do.. you ever feel like i'm mistreating you?" his head popped up from the spot it was previously. "what? no you're not. in fact, i feel like i'm not doing enough for you, baby." you chuckle, shifting your head to front him a little better.
"you've done more than you think for me." his hand held a soft grasp on your palm, you could feel a few scars on his hand. "really? i find it hard to believe." you let out a giggle, certainly a superhero who does things to make sure the city is a safe place for all, feels like you do more? that was in your point of view anyway.
"may.. i show you how much i can repay you then? i want to show you.. i want you to feel how thankful i am that you're here."
whatever it was in that dream of his definitely helped yours come true. "mmm, someone's ahhn- enjoying, ngh themselves.." he grunted out, hitting you from behind so good, you can't do anything but sit there and take it.
you could feel every little ridge on his dick, the sweat emitting from your body, combined with the drops spouting from the pores of his palms. damn you couldn't even hold your own moans back in courtesy for the people in the next dorm. "mmmffffuckkk.. s'good kin.." you whined, you shut your eyes in ectasy
he throws his head back, groaning at the sight of your plush ass barely swallowing his shaft each time. every shlick only made you even wetter. you could feel his length twitching inside you, each time he hit your very core.
your folds felt so insanely good, wrapping around the base of his dick so well, even inside you it felt so warm. the way you were basically getting stretched out, it reached even further into you, in his observation seeing how your eyebrows knitted- he assumed you liked it like that, kissing your insides!
he slowed the pace of his sloppy thrusts briefly to reach over for the phone on the nightstand. "you mind if we take a photo, pretty? love the way you look right now, 'd hate to miss such a face."
he'd be too busy admiring your face to realize how long he'd been grinding against your precious spot. he knew exactly how to make you use the expressions he wanted.
kissing your neck hungrily, making sure you face the camera as it recorded, letting it see all of you.
watching how your body reacted to his so well, he couldn't help but coo into your ear about how good you were doing.
"such a pretty kitty, mmm? and they're all mine aren't they? he continued, on the edge of the bed- making sure you see yourself in the mirror in front of you.
"this is what i admire everyday. hnnn.. s'tight, fffuck.." he groaned into you, letting you sit on his dick, riding it while watching his reaction through the mirror.
you couldn't help but piston your hips repeatedly, you were already so wet, might as well put it to use!
he held your hand throughout everything, squeezing it every now and then to indirectly ask if you're doing okay. kissing down from your nape to your shoulder blades, you were perfect from the ground till your ears.
for what seemed like the umpteenth time, he cums inside you. warm seed shoots up into your body, creaming on his cock at the same time.
kinich who holds you by the waist, feeling his cock slowly soften inside you. still trying to catch his breath- but still makes an effort to kiss your cheek.
still makes an effort to carry your trembling body to the bathroom. still makes an effort to clean you up. still makes an effort to eat you out slowly afterwards.
he who already misses you while you were still in the room. he couldn't help but cuddle with you for a bit before going out again. it was sunday already anyway, and he spent the moments where the sun rose elsewhere (eating you out/giving bj)
kinich who loved the idea of making out with you right after, still having to go out since you both spent the whole night.. intimately. half of his mask is still on but all you do is lift it up a little, enough for his lips to be visible enough for you to peck.
he makes sure you're sound asleep before he goes, he'll be back before you know it anyway.
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reidrum · 1 day
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how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things | s.r.
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A/N: this is literally prn with no plot i’m sorry. i just really love thinking about spencer on his knees sue me! this was supposed to be longer but then i decided to save it for when i write for juno heheh
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spencer AND munch!spencer look at that a 2-for-1!, fingering fem receiving, brief condescending!spence if you blink, many many pet names, spencer says good girl that’s a warning on its own, afab!reader
summary: you and spencer come home from a night out and he knows exactly what to say to get you wrapped around his finger (literally!)
wc: 1.4k
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You stumble through the door with Spencer trailing not too far behind you. You’d both been out with the team getting drinks and as the night progressed Spencer found himself getting especially touchy with you, so much that you could still feel the imprint of his hand on your inner thigh.
The drinks of the night had long faded leaving you in a haze as you both entered your apartment, Spencer’s solid frame coming up behind you to hold your waist.
“Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckles softly.
He slowly turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall. You give him a lazy smile as your hand reaches up to trace the outline of his jaw, “You’re pretty.”
“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?”
“Lucky.”
Spencer blushes and smiles softly, “That was good,” He bends down to press a kiss to the spot behind your ear, slowly trailing down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. His fingers press into the sides of your hips, “You okay? Still feeling it?”
You shake your head no pointedly, “Just fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy is good,” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, “You’re nicer when you’re fuzzy.”
“I’m nice all the time!” You feign offense.
He chuckles back, “Okay, you are nice all the time. I think I meant more…compliant.”
You grin up at him, “What, you don’t like me in control?”
“No I do, trust me, I do. But, you deserve to be taken care of. And I really like it when I get to take care of you. It’s easier for me to do that when you’re all…fuzzy.”
Another lazy smiles adorns you and Spencer can’t help but lean in and kiss your nose.
“Well, we aren’t doing anything until these devil shoes come off.” You mutter softly.
Spencer laughs and kisses you one last time before smoothing his hands down your side as he sinks to his knees, gesturing you to lift your foot up and perch it on his shoulder, allowing perfect access to your heel.
You lean back against the wall attempting to flatten your back to ease the aching of it. Through hooded eyes you look down to meet Spencer’s hazel ones staring right back at yours, as his fingers ghost over the straps of your heels.
“Feet hurt?” He asks as he presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your calf, gently massaging the skin as he works his way down the buckle of your heel.
“In these? Always.” You laugh back.
“Oh, poor baby.” He mumbles back with a pout, leaning forward to kiss the base of your ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in entice as you watch him leave kisses up your leg, hands following their path and caressing the skin it touches. He gently places your bare foot on the ground and picks up the other heeled one, placing it on his shoulder and repeating the same motions.
The intimacy of the moment strikes you as you watch his long fingers toy with the buckles and straps of your heels before sliding them off. Your hand subconsciously reaches for his hair and cards through it gently, pushing it away from his eyes.
“Hi.” you whisper.
He looks up to meet your gaze, “Hi, honey.”
“You look pretty down there.”
A chuckle escapes him, “Do I?”
You nod, “Are you going to stay down there or…?”
His fingers dance around your calves slowly inching upwards, “What do you want me to do?”
Humming softly at the touch, you lean your head back against the wall, “I want…whatever you want.”
Spencer laughs again, “See? My compliant, pretty girl.” His fingers reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching further up, “I think I’ll stay down here for a little bit…if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, that’s o—okay.” Your breath hitches as he toys with the outer edges of your panties. His fingers trace the outline out to in, just missing contact with where you want him.
You whine softly as he continues to evade the one spot you need him, squirming against the wall for any friction you can find. He lightly chastises you, “So needy…you’re acting like you haven’t been touched in weeks.”
“Spence…”
He hums, “But that’s not true, right?” One finger strokes the front of your panties, tracing a path from the wet patch up to your clothed clit.
“N—No.” You half moan.
His finger lays more pressure, “I take really good care of you, right angel?”
A curse slips from you as he strokes you over your panties.
Spencer smirks as he hooks his index fingers on either side of your panties and slowly starts to drag it down, not missing how the fabric sticks to your slick like honey. “You know why, I take such good care of you?”
You’re too caught up in the anticipation to respond, but that’s not enough for Spencer when he stops his motions and taps your leg, “I asked you a question.”
You look down at him and shake your head exasperatedly, hoping the silent answer was enough for him to continue since you’re nearly on the ledge from the way his hands are moving.
His finger trails back up your leg and ghosts over your exposed cunt, teasing you endlessly, “I take care of you…because you’re a good girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Spencer…please…” You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, your body squirming for any contact.
“Say it.” He pulls back so he can look you directly in the eyes, a single digit sliding through your folds.
“Jesus, fuck,” you let out breathlessly, “Okay, okay I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl, just please…” You can’t even bring yourself to care at how desperate you sound, you would start begging like a sinner in church if he didn’t do anything soon.
He smirks, “That’s my girl,” he taps your thigh, “Over my shoulder.” You quickly abide and raise your leg over his shoulder and rest your thigh on it. Spencer leans in and dives into your folds like a man starved, your hands moving to tangle in his hair and in an effort to stabilize yourself. His tongue motions like he’s making a painting and you definitely think you deserve to be hung in the Louvre after this.
You feel him add a finger in and you’re a goner.
“Spence…I’m—fuck oh my god, please don’t stop.” You whine.
His lips detach from you while he adds another fingers and continues his motions and he mumbles, “You gonna come for me, angel? Been like, what a few minutes and you’re already about to make a mess on my fingers…so needy.” he teases.
He returns back to your core, licking long and thick stripes up and down, his fingers not slowing down as he brings you closer to the edge. The peak begins to build in your gut and the climax overtakes you, a mixture of expletives and Spencer’s name leaving your mouth like a twisted spell.
You release your death grip on his hair as he sits back to catch his breath. You slump down the wall to sit in front of him, your leg still swung over his shoulder. He smiles fondly at you and holds the ankle next to his head, leaning in to press a kiss, “You okay, baby?”
“Mhm…” You hazily say, “Peachy, even.”
His eyes narrow slightly, “…Because they’re fuzzy?” you giggle and nod feeling super proud of your pun. He can’t help but laugh with endearment with you as he gently helps your leg off his shoulder and places it on the ground before standing up himself and reaching his hands out for you to grab it, “Let’s go to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”
You place your hands in his and allow him to pull you up, once you’re on your feet you register his words, “Wait, huh?”
He slowly spins you around so his chest is to your back and starts guiding you down the hallway, “Oh baby, did you think we were stopping at one?” he whispers sultrily in your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and he laughs feeling you shake in his arms.
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fatphobiabusters · 1 day
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Hey, I wanted to ask if you maybe have any book recs about nutrition that aren't steeped in fatphobia? my friend is trying to learn more about nutrition and change her eating habits, and i want to give her a gift
We spoke separately on this, sorry for the late reply but I can now officially recommend a book for your friends next birthday!
Gentle Nutrition: A Non-Diet Approach to Healthy Eating
Absolutely 10/10 would recommend. It's from a registered dietician, has plenty of sources!
I can't summerize or even list all the topics covered. Here's just a sample:
Introducing intuitive eating, recognizing diet culture, the thinness obsession, the types of hunger we feel, what factors actually contribute to health, diet cycling, hunger cues, why BMI is BS, how to make small changes gradually, the effects of weight stigma and stress on the body.
And so much more.
It introduces so many concepts and issues we touch on here on the blog and questions people have about health and some fat issues. (Not every single issuse but it does tackle the health based fatphobic arguments just by the process of tearing down diet culture. Even mentions medical neglect/fatphobia. Other literature is out there on the full scope of fatphobia and its harms.)
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I'm particularly interested in this section. I'm delighted by graphs and then the explanations for them!
Theres so much I want to directly beam into people. My primary complaint is I wish there was MORE advice for people with body cue reading problems. There is some advice but more would be nice.
I also appreciated this:
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Im someone who has good textures and bad textures (mild compared to some) but ask me which ones and I'd be stumped because I tell you dishes I like but otherwise ??? So this helps me think.
While flipping through it I keep finding more things to gush about this really is such a good starting point because it will touch on so many weight and diet culture topics.
This is disjointed because this book covers so much I want to try and encourage peopleto check it out but my brain go Brrrr from excitement. It's not perfect, nothing can be but it's just so nice to have a book I can recommend that covers both what you want and doesn't shy away from the complex web of diet culture. It tries to met a new reader where they are and I just Brrrrr. You know?
-mod squirrel
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starboye · 3 days
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starring: simon "ghost" riley x male reader
request: Hey OP saw that you wanted some requests for Ghost and I was wondering if you could write some Ghost x male reader 🤭🤭 where they’re roommates (could be civilian AU or military) who both claim to be “straight” but are so gay for each other. I kind of make this opened ended there’s like zero Ghost x male reader stuff 😭😭
warnings: smut, some fluff i think, cursing, pervert!simon, pervert!reader, civillian!au, jerking off, fingering, making out
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you and simon ended up as roommates after learning that he had nowhere to stay after getting of his mission and now every day is a struggle to stop yourself from pouncing on the man, you and him both claimed to be straight, casually bringing it up while on a mission with the 141 team but your actions tell a different story, longing glances and drawn out touches says that you both like each other, but both of you don't know that about one other, to sure that the other is strictly straight and doesn't hold any feelings.
the dynamic is kind of simple around the apartment, you usually cook and clean while simon is out working and he'd do the same when you're out, but recently simon has wanted to take the role of cleaning more often, that was a lie though he hated cleaning but when he realized he could use it for his own perverted nature he was eager to do it more, when doing laundry he'd steal a pair of your used underwear just to sniff it and jerk off with it.
fucking into his fist in the dead of night when he thinks you're sleep, using your underwear as a sort of gag to capture his deep groans, the imagination of fucking you senseless flooding his mind over and over till he came with choked back grunts that you heard unbeknownst to him, you both sitting on the couch watching tv the next morning as if he didn't imagine fucking you till you moaned every letter of his name.
and you well you weren't nearly any better than him, always sneaking into his room when he was at work to lay in his bed, sniffing whatever scent of him was left on his pillows and wrapping yourself in his blankets to then finger yourself to the thoughts of him using you like a cum rag, filling you up over and over till you cant think, and you knew that your fingers could never match up to what simon probably felt like but you wanted to know so bad.
you both wanted each other so badly but never knew if the other wanted it to, till one fateful night where you were both chilling in the kitchen cooking up some dinner when you turned around and bumped into simon, his hands quickly moving to hold your waist so you don't fall and you both stood there for some time, just staring into each others eyes "oh uh sorry" he stuttered releasing his grip on you and baking up "don't be" you quickly say wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss the man.
you having to stand on your toes just to reach his mouth with yours and with that you pulled back, a couple more seconds of silence following before he's picking you up and taking you to his room, and my god was that night good, you were both living out your fantasies of each other simon cumming over and over again till he was milked dry and you ending up a messy and incoherent mess splayed on his bed.
after that it was like to rabbits fucking constantly, over and over, day and night or even morning time by this point the neighbors were begging you guys to calm it down but that still didn't stop you guys, to drunk off one another love to even think of stopping, now here you were making out on the kitchen counter with simon after trying to bake desserts like you too didn't fuck that morning, after simon came home from work, and before dinner seems like tonight's gonna be a loud one.
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taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft
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ddejavvu · 2 days
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the party’s long been over, and hugh is trying his hardest not to give into the not-so-subtle advances coming from his best friend’s drunk daughter. maybe he gets a little protective and even scolds her over how drunk and stupid she is. he doesn’t stop lecturing her even when he fingers her to shut her up.
send me dbf!hugh jackman thoughts!
this post is 18+, minors dni.
contents/warnings: dbf!hugh jackman, dubcon (reader is tipsy), don't like don't read.
this is a little more soft than it is mean but i couldn't help myself I'm sorry </3
god i nearly came. i'm picturing him all spread out on the couch, he'd been watching whatever was on tv but now that you've cornered him and sat on his lap he's trying his hardest to refocus his attention there. you're draped all over his lap, and he's getting hard from the way you're squirming on his lap but he's trying to will it away because he doesn't wanna be the douchebag who takes advantage of the younger woman.
you're begging for it, kissing relentlessly at his mouth while his hands frame your hips, holding you steady but not pushing you away like he knows he should. He's not kissing you back, or maybe he is, but it's almost imperceptible, nothing more than a soft tilt of his head or a sigh against your mouth as he thinks about giving in and licking against your lips.
"Please. Please, I want you, and I- I don't care about my dad. He- he doesn't have to know." You plead, hands braced on his chest as you peck his lips between every few words, "No one does, I- it can just be us, just one time, just- just for tonight, please?"
"You're drunk. You're drunk, honey, and that's not fair." He murmurs, and you take advantage of the way his lips move to form the words as you kiss him more vigorously, "I can't do that to you. Even if you weren't- I'm older than you, and I couldn't-"
"You can! I want you to," You nearly sob, face screwed up and chin wobbling as you grind desperately onto his chubbed up bulge, "Please, just once! Just once, I need- I need you, I need something so- aagh! so bad!"
"I can't do that to you." He insists, but his cock is steadily betraying him as it stiffens under your ministrations. He wants nothing more than to just give in but he can't, he'd feel dirty, tainted, perverted.
His heart aches, physically aches as you lay flush against him, writhing with need as he watches on.
"I can't fuck you." He repeats, raising a hand to cup your cheek, "Sweetheart, we can't do this. Not- not now, not like this, m'kay? Wait 'til morning." He croons, trying to placate you, but when you take his hand in your own he realizes that his resolve is weakening- maybe he can offer you something.
He's defeatedly still, and he should pull his hand away when you desperately grab onto it, but he doesn't. You bring it between your legs and press it to your cunt- he can feel the warmth even through your panties.
"I shouldn't," He tries again, but his hand seems to move of its own accord, betraying the rest of him as it slowly eases its way beneath your soaked panties and rubs gently, experimentally at the entrance of your cunt. You're wet in a way that suggests you've been needy all day, and he takes that as solace if it means you were stone cold sober when this all began.
"We shouldn't be doing this, sweetheart." He hums, leaning down to press a pointlessly chaste kiss to your head where you've nestled it into his chest. Despite his words he drags a thick finger through your pussy, adding a second when it's clear you don't need to be prepped.
"I love you." You whine pathetically, craning your neck upwards to stare at him through the sheen of barely-there tears in your eyes. You cling onto his arm to ensure that his fingers stay buried in your cunt and you kiss messily at his chin when you can't quite reach his lower lip.
"You're drunk." This time it's a scold, a light one but a scold all the same as he lets you rub yourself on his fingers, "Just because you're old enough to drink doesn't mean you need to do it like this, hm? Now if you weren't like this things could be different. I could give you more."
"I want more," You whimper, squirming on his lap and tugging his hand impossibly closer as you grind on it, "Please- please?"
"Not now." He hums, using his other hand to settle you down against his chest again while his wrist aches slightly at the contorted position you're holding it in. "After this you're going to bed. And we'll talk in the morning."
"I'll still love you in the morning. I have for a long time." You warn him, words muffled against the shirt over his chest.
He chooses not to respond- he's not sure how he could say anything that would properly sum up his feelings as he rubs his fingers through your cunt- but he knows at the very least that the feelings he can't put into words are truthful, and they'll remain in the morning even if yours don't.
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felibrary · 2 days
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╭──╯GOOD DAYS | even as the snow falls atop his hair and the colorful fireworks launch in the distance, sylus can't help but keep his eyes off of you.
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pairing: sylus x reader (gender neutral) | content & warnings: just some toothrotting fluff, bit of banter and bicker, reader is implied to be shorter than sylus, possibly ooc sylus | wordcount: 1.1k ; ficlet
author's note: this is based off his nightplume card with my own little add-ons lolll (also i don't even play lad anymore..so if you see any mischaracterizations here..yeah..)
A/N: Loll finally posted again and it's lad haha, enjoy!!
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"sylus, i'm cold."
your boyfriend raises his brow and sighs, having the audacity to act disappointed. "i've warned you about the cold weather. should've listened to me about wearing a scarf," he smirks while you on the other hand only huff, frown deepening.
"well, i didn't know it'd be this cold," you shudder as the snowflakes meet your nape and slowly dissolve.
you're pretty sure you look absolutely ridiculous right now — with a runny nose and a hoarse voice complaining about something you're at fault for, to sylus who simply enjoys watching your dilemma and chuckles in amusement.
there aren’t often moments when sylus feels at ease, always on the lookout if something happens to you when he isn’t around. but he knows that if he stays by your side there won’t ever be something bad happening to you — he makes sure of that and instead decides to enjoy these simple but meaningful moments with you.
so maybe these little moments make him pay less attention to his surroundings than usual, oblivious to the snow that gets stuck in his hair and you can’t help but cackle a bit. “what?” he asks curiously. “there’s snow in your hair,” you point out. sylus’ gaze drifts up for a split-second before smiling and lowering his head. “help me,” his voice is soft as he requests you to help him.
even through hands covered in mittens, you can feel how soft sylus’ hair is, you play with his hair for a bit, rubbing your hand over his head before finally brushing the remaining snow out. “be careful, even a crow can turn into a dove in this weather,” you smile. “a crow? what a funny thing of you to say,” sylus returns your smile before turning his head away from you to look at the fireworks and so do you.
the fireworks are pretty, magnificent even. they vary in size, motive, and color but despite all of that each of them is unique and beautiful in its own way, making it unable to rip your eyes off them..besides maybe one exception.
not even a moment later, the exception in question turns to you, expectant ruby eyes staring down at you before swaying his gaze down to the snow-covered railing, smiling. "want me to draw you?" the turned-up collar of his stuffed leather jacket rises and falls along his neck as he exhales.
you follow his gaze and scoff. "sylus, what are you up to," you mutter under your breath. he doesn't respond, instead his gloved hand meets the metal railing before slowly tracing circles in the snow, and soon after you're able to recognize what he drew — a cat.
“seriously? a cat? i thought i’d at least be something more intimidating like a tiger,” you complain in faux offense. sylus only hums “do you know what you look like right now?” he doesn’t wait for you to respond before tracing lines onto the cat’s forehead.
"like a tiger that meows when it opens its mouth," he says, voice laced with sarcasm. upon seeing it, you can't help but crack a smile. "you're so stupid," you express with a shake of your head. "says the stubborn one who refused to dress warmly," he huffs before turning away from you again.
those ruby eyes full of danger and a lust for adventure soften upon seeing the shower of fireworks being cast in the sky. a mixture of bright red and blue colors paints the sky and casts a light shadow over sylus’ figure. 
you playfully roll your eyes at him, grinning as you scoop some of the snow off the railing. “sylus, you still have snow in your hair, want me to get it out for you?” you offer, a sweet smile gracing your lips. “what, you want to deepen our relationship? but if you insist,” he smirks before lowering his head.
you reach forward and unlike sylus’ expectation your hand lands on his cheek, making his eyes widen in surprise while you bite your bottom lip, suppressing the giggle you’ve been meaning to let out ever since you got the idea. sylus shoots you a boyish smile before flicking his fingers against your forehead which catches you off guard. “unprompted benevolence wasn't out of the kindness of your heart,”
before you’re able to process what’s happening, sylus pulls you into a tight embrace, strong arms snaking around your waist and holding you closely to his chest. "sylus let me go, i can't see the fireworks" you muffle into his jacket. "mhm, but weren't you the one who was complaining about the cold just now?” he says absentmindedly and you gaze up at him as he turns his head to the fireworks. 
his eyes find yours again, ruby eyes locking with yours as he gives you a mirthful smile. i'd rather not let you be exposed to the cold again" you glare at him which seems to amuse him even more because his next move is to pull you closer than before. (which you didn’t even know was possible from how close the two of you were already.)
luckily he lets you go soon after and you breathe in relief and observe him curiously as he pulls something out of the pocket of his jacket — a scarf. you gasp in surprise. “you had a scarf with you all along?” you ask him dumbfoundedly, not sure whether to be grateful for having something to warm your neck which isn’t sylus’ biceps, or if you should feel betrayed that he hid it from you.
“i’ve had a hunch that you’d forget yours in the rush, always so forgetful.” he smiles softly before wrapping the scarf around your neck, twice around your neck, and once around your.. eyes? “sylus, i swear to god.” even with your eyes covered beneath the wool scarf you can practically see sylus smirking to himself. “fine, fine,” he mutters, smiling before removing the scarf from your eyes.
the scarf sits nicely around your neck and not to mention it’s very comfortable and keeps you warm. you exchange glances with sylus before turning your attention to the fireworks again. 
from beneath you, on the riverbank, a bunch of people are lighting up their fireworks before watching after them as they fly into the distance. your eyes follow the fireworks as they light up the night sky and their reflections shimmer on the surface of the river. “the fireworks are so pretty, aren’t they?” you turn to sylus, expecting him to watch the fireworks too, instead you find his ruby eyes fixated on yours. 
“yeah, they really are.”
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TAGS: @azullumi we're just gonna ignore the fact that this is dedicated to you and your birthday you oldie gramps of a geezer which was one week ago.....but anyway although i don't want to repeat what i said in my birthday letter (which you haven't read yet LOL) i want to tell you that in such a short period of time you've grown to a person I've learned to love so easily as if it were naturally - which it is. you're so loveable that it makes me wonder how anyone could ever hold a grudge towards you? you're the sweetest soul on earth and i wish i would've been there for your birthday to congratulate you in person but well beggars can't be choosers. azul, you're my soulmate and i appreciate everything about you and everything that you've done for me. i love how clear and easy our communication is, i love our little playful banters that other people find questionable and i love that people associate the two of us together, even when it means mistaking us for one another, which just proves how close we even appear to other people. you're the embodiment of lovely and loveable to me. i love you to death azul and once again happy birthday! <3
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© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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carringtonsgirl · 3 days
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BETTER
M.STURNIOLO
in which chris accuses his girlfriend of wanting to fuck his brother so she does just that.
warnings: cheating,matt with the belt,p in v,sextape,creampie.
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nothing more that matt hated then his brother stealing the girl he was first interested in just to be a total dick to her.
matts brother chris was dating y/n. they have been together for five months now. matt was interested in the girl first but then his brother had to go and snatch her from him. she was never his in the first place but still.
the two brothers had met the girl from their triplet brother nick. the two had been friends since they moved to la. they met at a influencer party and have been inseparable ever since.
matt instantly started feeling something for the girl when she started to come around more often. her and him were somewhat close but not as close as her and nick.
chris knew that matt felt something for the girl and yet he still went after her just to end up treating her bad.
the first month or two chris and y/n were dating it was perfect,he treated her good and the sex was good but for the past two months now chris completely changed. he would constantly blow her off when she tried to make plans with him and he would constantly argue with her and accuse her of cheating(he was the one who was cheating.)the only time they weren’t arguing is when they were fucking which wasnt often.
right now the girl was hanging out with nick chris and matt. they were all in the car currently on their way back to the triplets house from going out to dinner.
the car ride back to their house was strangely quiet and all that could be heard was the music that chris was playing.
dinner went good until chris opened his mouth and went on a rampage about something the girl did that pissed him off. matts jaw was clenched the whole ride back to their house.
he didn’t understand why chris was dating her if he was gonna be mean to her all the time. she deserved better, and matt was better.
as soon as they got home matt pulled into the garage parking the car and chris instantly got out and stormed inside the house slamming the door behind him.
“im gonna go talk to him.” the girl said softly.
matt sighed as she got out going inside after chris. he wishes she would just leave him.
nick noticed that matt seemed like something was bothering him so he spoke up. “you okay?”nick asked.
“i just don’t understand chris.” matt said as he was clenching his jaw.
“i know i dont understand it either, i know hes our brother but he shouldnt be treating y/n like that.” nick said.
“its so fucking stupid.” matt said as he got out of the car walking inside.
all that could be heard when walking into the house was chris yelling along with a slam of a door.
“i dont understand why you act so fucking perfect y/n! you piss me the fuck off so much and you wonder why i treat you the way i fucking do!” chris yelled.
the girl stood there not saying a word to him because she knew if she did he would be getting a reaction out of her and she didnt want him to think he has that control over her but she decided to end up speaking up for herself.
“chris i dont understand what your problem is” she said calmly.
“you dont understand what MY PROBLEM is? have you seen yourself have you seen the fucking way you look at matt!?” chris said rolling his eyes.
“what way do i look at him chris? hes a FRIEND”she said.
“no y/n clearly hes more than that!” chris yelled.
“what the fuck ever im not gonna sit here and argue with you all because your jealous of your own brother.” she said as she started to walk out the room.
“whatever you’re probably just gonna go fuck matt or something.” chris said.
“maybe i fucking will.” she said as she walked out of his room.
‧˚♡彡
matt was sitting on the living room when he saw the girl walking up the steps from chris’ room.
“hey. you okay?” he asked.
she nodded as she came over and sat down on the couch a inch or two apart from him.
“chris is just going on a big rampage on how apparently i wanna fuck you.” the girl said.
matts face lit up with amusement as he heard the words that came out of her mouth but suddenly a small smirk came onto his face.
“well do you?” he asked as he made eye contact with her.
“matt..im with your brother.” she said looking at him.
“i know baby but i promise i could fuck you so much better then he can.” matt said as he scooted closer to her.
as much as the girl denied it she often found herself thinking how it would be like to fuck matt. she would get herself off sometimes while thinking about his head inbetween her thighs or him pounding into her from behind.
“but only if you let me.” matt said as he was now inches away from her face.
the girl thought about it for a second she knew it was wrong to do chris that way but she couldnt help but want matt to be deep inside of her.
“please.”she said as she smashed her lips onto his kissing him softly.
matt kissed her back as he pulled her onto his lap wrapping his hands around her waist.
“thats all you had to say baby.” matt said as he held her as he stood up walking to his room.
matt carefully shut the door behind him making sure to lock it before placing her down on the bed.
he slid off her shirt then matt took his shirt off and hovered back over the girl kissing her softly.
the kiss instantly grew heated as matt was grinding his bulge against the girls aching core causing her to whimper into his mouth as her hands were tangled in his hair.
matt reached his hand down sliding it underneath her skirt dipping his hand into her panties feeling her aching wet cunt.
matt pulled away from the kiss and whispered into the girls ear. “so wet just f’me huh?” matt said causing her to whimper as he started to rub her clit.
“gonna make you feel so good baby.” he said as he started to kiss on her neck.
she whimpered as he slipped two of his fingers into her wet cunt and thrusting them into her at a fast pace.
he grabbed her throat with his freehand kissing her roughly as he was fingering her as she was moaning into his mouth.
he suddenly pulled out his fingers and bent her over the bed slipping her panties and skirt off of her.
he unbuckles his pants sliding off the belt and grabbing her wrists and tying them together with his belt.
he slid off his pants and grabbed her pulling her to the edge of the bed and slamming into her.
he thrusted into her at a fast pace as she was moaning loudly. he chuckled at how quick she became a mess.
“yeah? you like going dumb on your boyfriends brothers cock huh?” he groaned as he slapped her ass.
“mhmmmmm” she moaned out not being able to form sentences because all she could think about was his cock fucking her dumb.
“such a fucking whore, might have to call chris so he can hear how much of a whore his girlfriend is for my cock.” matt said as he reached to grab his phone.
he smirked as he clicked on his brothers name calling him.
[PHONE CALL]
“what matt”
“your girlfriend is such a good fuck”
“matt dont fucking play with me.”
“im not dont you hear how dumb she is right now?”
“you wouldn’t fucking do me like that”
“what? you mad i can dick her down better then you can.”
“oh fuck matt right there”
“you’re just fucking some random y/n went back to her house because we argued”
“whatever you say buddy”
matt ended the call with a satisfied smirk.his thrusts never faltering as he continued to pound into her. the girl was moaning uncontrollably, her body responding to every move he made.
“see, baby? even chris heard how i can fuck you better.” matt whispered against her ear, his voice dripping with arrogance and lust.
she could only nod, her mind too clouded with pleasure to form any coherent words. matts pace quickened, his grip on her hips tightening as he brought them both closer to the edge.
“gonna cum for me baby? cum all over my cock?” matt growled his own release approaching fast as he took the belt off of her wrists.
the girl could only moan in response.her body trembling as she felt the intense pleasure build up inside her. matts pace became relentless driving her closer and closer to the edge.
"thats it baby. cum all over my dick youve been such a good girl.”matt said as he grabbed the belt spanking her with it a few times.
with one final thrust, the girl cried out, her body convulsing as she reached her peak. the sensation was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing over her.
matt followed soon after groaning deeply as he released inside her. his grip on her hips tightening momentarily.
he felt himself cumming deep inside of her as he grabbed his phone recording him slowly pulling out of her with the mixture of their cum oozing out.
he leaned against her as he put his phone in her face, showing how fucked out she was. swollen lips, hair stuck to her face from sweating looking all fucked out.
“i fuck you better then chris huh baby?” he smirked as she nodded in response.
“words baby.” he said.
“you fuck me so much better then chris” she said all fucked out.
with that he ended the video clicking on his brothers contact name.
matt: *one attachment sent*
matt: all fucked out by me.
chris: fuck you matt.
matt: maybe if you treated her right she wouldnt of done this but clearly im better.
he smirked as he laid beside the girl pulling her into his arms. he started rubbing on her body as he kissed her forehead.
he cuddled her til they both fell asleep, not knowing that chris was about to come and rudely awake them.
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taskforce420 · 1 day
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leaked. simon 'ghost' riley
it was obvious something had happened, the way people stared at you as you walked past them, they watched as your hips moved, and chest bounced. however- you couldn't understand why everyone had taken some kind of liking to your figure randomly. there was no need for them to, you wore the same kind of clothes everyday around the base.
it wasn't until your captain jogged over to you and pulled you into his office, along with your fellow team mates, that you finally realised something bad had happened. it was obvious that your captain, price, felt a little uncomfortable in explaining the situation. he stumbled over his words a little, he cleared his throat far to much and for gods sake- why does he keep pacing?!
"for christ sake cap, what's goin' on?" you finally spoke up, looking at him and everyone else in the room with a frown. price, and the others looked down as you spoke, apart from one. ghost.
"the fella you, stupidly, got yourself associated with- has leaked somethin' of yours" ghost spoke with his awfully dull tone. you could have sworn you felt you heart and soul leave your body, my eyes stayed glued to his.
"what.." you finally muttered out, in complete and utter disbelief. the man you once trusted with those kind of photos had completely disregarded your wishes of deleting those images you had sent him a while ago.
"he hasn't sent them to anyone, but he's been showing them to people." ghost continued on, crossing his arms across his chest and looking down at you. he was...disappointed in you, thought you were better then to send those kind of photos to someone; but we all know he didn't understand why you did what you did, he doesn't understand why anyone does it to be honest.
you were stunned, how the hell were you supposed to get out of this? sure you could talk to that foolish man you once liked, but that probably wouldn't end very well, you couldn't delete it off his phone..
"what am i supposed to do?" you finally spoke up, your voice a little shaky and desperate. it was embarrassing to admit but you sent those photos because he asked you to and you thought, you liked him; but little did you know you was using him as a distraction. trying to keep you feelings hidden for someone else.
it sounds bad, but he was using you just as much as you were using him. he only cared about one thing, nudes, and he was willing to do whatever he could to get them off you and if that meant filling your head with sweet nothings then that's exactly what he'd do.
price looked up as you spoke, he heard the pain in your voice and god it was horrible. he knew about the issues of men leaking photos around the base, it happened more often then he'd like to admit, but seeing you in this mess; a sweet, caring lady with the desire to do good and treat those around her with nothing but respect, pissed him off.
it pissed everyone off, soap, gaz, but one in particular was ghost.
you couldn't tell, but his eyes were squinted, his teeth clenched, his breathing heavy, and his hand squeezing his own bicep out of anger. sure, it was annoyed at you, but he was far more angry at the man who threw your trust out of the window and purposefully showed you off. how could he?!
"i'll talk to em'" ghost finally spoke up, you and the others looked at him, dumbfounded.
"si, you don't have to do that. i-i'll handle it on my own, after all its m-" he cut you off, you were right. it was your own fault, but he knew how you felt and he was not about to let you deal with it on your own.
"don't be daft, i'll sort it" and he was gone. straight out the door of caps office. the door slammed behind him and you bit your cheek nervously.
"well, thats tha' sorted" soap said, and god was he right.
it was only the next day, and people stopped staring. their eyes no longer followed you or your chest as you walked, no, instead they stared at the ground or simply refused to look your way. it was hard not to smile to yourself. oh, simon. the man you are.
it was now even more harder to mask your feelings for him, he helped you, without a second thought.
where you walked into his office to ask him about it, he immediately looked up at you, his hands stopped typing away at the computer. you let out a small hi, as you closed the door to his office and made your way to the desk.
he replied with a small nod of his head and a quick, you okay?. "im okay, thank you for talking to him" tilting your head a little with a small smile.
he took notice of you small gesture and smirked under his mask, so pretty.. he leaned back into the chair. "'course love".
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lostalioth · 1 day
Text
𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬
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→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.
→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader
→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety
→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.
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A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.
This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.
You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddle with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.
You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.
“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.
You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.
They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.
You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, whether you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.
“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.
In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.
Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.
A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.
“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.
Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.
“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.
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→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!
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min-imum · 1 day
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FLUFFY GYU SMUT !!!!
nsfw, mdni
content warnings: gn!reader, this is actually so fluffy because i love domesticity and i’m a sucker for domestic fluff but also mingyu is too hot so i ended up being a smut account but but but TIYA I MEANT AN ASK WITH CONTENT 😞😞😞😞 it’s okay this means i can write WHATEVER I WANT!!!!!!!! DOMESTIC MINGYU!!!!!!!, super soft sex, super sweet mingyu, AUGH its vanilla and it’s cute, also i literally added tags to this in advance because my dumbass completely forgot to add tags in my previous post and i was like hmm it’s a suspiciously low number of notes for the amount of time this has been up OHHHHHHH no tags., second time i’ve had to rewrite a fic because tumblr said nope sorry we cant save this AND THEN IT JUST DIDNT SAVE EVEN THOUGH I ALREADY SAVED THE DRAFT EARLIER AND I WAS JUST ADDING ON :( im being so fr the first draft was SO much better on god and it was longer too but i forgot what i wrote rAAA
mingyu — your sweet, darling boyfriend. you love him with all your heart and you know he loves you too.
he shows you just how much he loves you all the time. you know he loves you when he crawls up at dawn to make you breakfast. you know he loves you when he crouches to tie your shoelaces for you. you know he loves you when he sends you sweet texts throughout the day, and when he purchases souvenirs from all his travels for you, and when he wraps his big arms around you on a bad day to cushion you and comfort you.
you know he loves you when he makes love to you like this, slow and sweet and filled with emotion.
he kisses you slowly, languidly, and you moan into his mouth as his cock presses into you inch by inch. when he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are filled with adoration. it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.
when you finally take him to the hilt, he pauses, litters kisses over your face and neck, presses his lips to your jaw, bites gently at your earlobe, and waits ever so patiently for you to get used to his size inside you.
“you can move, gyu,” you whisper. he kisses you once more as his hips start to move, grunts falling from his lips with each thrust. he leans his forehead against yours tenderly and bumps your noses together affectionately.
his hands roam your body, squeezing gently and feeling you up. he revels in every moan and whine that escapes from your lips. he nuzzles against your cheek sweetly.
as much as you like the rougher, meaner sex you have with him, this sweet love-making is your favourite. he never fails to remind you how much he loves you and how special you are to him.
he presses his nose into your hair and breathes in your scent.
“did you use my shampoo, baby?”
“mhm,” you smile sheepishly. “sorry.”
“don’t apologise. i like it when you smell like me.” he giggles, expression absolutely lovesick. you blush, shy and contented.
“i like smelling like you too.”
he has the sweetest smile on his face, eyes glittery and lips curled, as he fucks you with all the love in the world. he loves making you feel good, he loves taking care of you. he loves you.
soon, you’re cumming over his cock with a long whine, and he fucks you through it. he always makes sure you cum first. and then he follows quickly, rolling his hips into you one last time and emptying himself into you.
finally, he rolls the two of you over so you’re lying on his chest, his cock still buried inside you.
“hi,” you giggle.
“you’re so cute,” mingyu coos. “my adorable baby. i love you so much.”
you smile, eyes bright with happiness and satisfaction. “i love you too.”
“let’s get up soon, okay? i have to clean you up and change the sheets,” he murmurs.
as always, your sweet boyfriend never fails to take care of you and show you how much he loves you.
“okay,” you hum. “five more minutes?”
he strokes your back affectionately and presses a tender kiss to your head. “five more minutes.”
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jadedwoman · 3 days
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Oh hun, you thought when you adopted a pet girl that you'd get to have fun teaching them tricks didn't you? Well too bad, you got a wolfgirl, so you're going to have to deal with my heat dear~ but don't worry your little head, I know you still think you should be in charge, why don't I help you change that silly notion hm? Just stare at my chest dear, it's an easy task, look at its size, its heft, the clear weight in my breasts, weighing them down to the point they jiggle and sway so seductively. Now watch me slowly grab my top, the fabric already clinging sooooo tightly to my skin, but as I slide it up, you slowly make out more and more of my tits, look how soft they are, how warm and enveloping they seem~ you know Hun, if you'd like, you can touch them, but only if you call me owner~ I know that sounds so hard to do, but why don't you just try for me right now, say owner, maybe mommy too, maybe not~ embrace how good the title feels to say, how natural it can seem to call me that, that's because I'm your owner Hun, and since I told you to do it, of course it feels good to comply. I'm so proud of you for obeying your first command, so now just shut your silly human brain for me and remember, it feels sooo good to obey~
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youryanderedaddy · 17 hours
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Oleander
Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader
Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 
These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 
Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.
“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.
“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”
Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?
“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”
“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.
“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.
Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.
“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”
The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”
He kisses you. 
You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 
“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 
“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.
His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 
He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 
“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”
He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”
You roll your eyes.
“Dream on.”
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novy2sirius · 2 days
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High vs low vibrational
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neither is “bad” when there’s balance. to feel the positive feelings of the higher vibrations more intensely we must know what it’s like to feel the lower ones. just like the chakras when one is active, but not the others, it creates imbalance. we are meant to feel highs and lows as humans. feeling low vibrational is normal. when feeling low vibrational for a long period of time though it can damage someone spiritually and cause them to spiral and struggle with things like happiness, manifestation, and enlightenment. this doesn’t mean you can’t heal from being low vibrational long term though. life is all about healing and bouncing back. when i say a person will take on the negative traits of an astrology/numerology placement if they’re low vibrational it doesn’t mean they will take on those traits forever. people can heal and change. that’s why recently i prefer the term low/high vibrational when speaking about astrology rather than “evolved and unevolved” because you don’t just evolve one day and stay that way forever. we aren’t like pokemon. how our spiritual placements manifest is of course dependent on where exactly we’re at in life. regardless of your beliefs about spirituality though, even scientifically, we all have a frequency that is constantly changing and energy that exists in the quantum realm constantly changing its vibrational state
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loui3e · 2 days
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Guilty Pleasure
It’s been awhile since you’ve turned up the dial’
Worst!Logan x Reader
Summary: After a first date gone wrong Logan finally confesses the truth.
A/n: I might make a smutty part 2 if you all enjoy this. Has been proofread.
Warnings: A sprinkle of angst, miscommunication (I know), all is solved in the end. Kinda suggestive.
Words: 795
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First dates are odd things.
Scary even, especially with a man who you think doesn’t want a bit to do with you.
You’re convinced Wade put him up to this because there’s a scowl permanently etched into his facial features.
You won’t let this get you down though, I mean you’re still on a date with a man that you’ve had a massive crush on since he’s moved in next door. Better than nothing you suppose.
You sip your milkshake, your hands awkwardly tapping the table in an attempt to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“What do you do?”
Your head shoots up, eyes wide. That’s the first time he’s spoken since you’ve arrived to this diner besides telling the waiter what he wanted. His words are gruff, almost reluctant but its words nonetheless.
“Uh, what do I do? Um, art.” You stumble over your words, not use to the sound of your voice after all this quiet. Logan raises a brow from across you.
“Art?”
“Yeah, like I paint.”
“Traditionalist then?”
You chuckle and shake your head, “I guess so.” There’s a new bout of silence, a little more comfortable.
“What do you do?” You reflect the words back, a little happier than his. Shifting your plate out of the way and setting your head on your hand so your full attention is on him.
Logan wouldn’t consider himself a particular interesting person, sure he’s got some stories to tell but those are all circumstantial. But your eyes are on him; bright and curious.
You’re just a naturally curious person, but also partly crushing on him. He’s certainly handsome. You’ve seen him on the halls of your apartment complex, tall and broad. You could fantasise about him all day.
“Not much.”
Your daydream is cut short.
“Surely something?”
Logan’s fully realised he really doesn’t do a lot, now that he thinks about. He expects you to retreat back into disinterest but you don’t, you pry instead.
“Everyone has something, what’s your calling?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. That scowl sneaks back onto his face as he sits back against his seat arms crossed.
You think you’ve might’ve said something wrong, but not for long before the waiter comes over with the bill.
It’s not until you see him at a bar do you speak next, you haven’t really seen him since the date. “Logan,” you call as you take a seat beside him, smiling timidly.
He gives you a nod of acknowledgment. Logan feels a little bad for avoiding you after that date, but after your conversation he doesn’t quite think he’s worth your time.
“We hadn’t spoken after that date, I don’t wanna pry but did I say something wrong? I mean I know Wade put you up to this so you probably didn’t even want to go.”
“What? Wade didn’t put me up to this,” Logan speaks with hard honesty, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“But I thought- you looked so disinterested.” You lean in closer to him, head cocked to the side. His eyes met yours and he feels a pang of guilt.
God, he’s an idiot, it didn’t even occur to him it he looked like that. “No, not at all,” he takes a swig of whiskey before continuing. “I just, haven’t been on a date in awhile. I don’t think you’d like me much once you got to know me.”
Your jaw falls open as you look at him before you start laughing. Relief washing over your features, and partly at the thought that you wouldn’t like Logan once you got to know him.
“Logan I’ve been crushing on you since you moved in, you can’t scare me off.”
“You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” Logan places a bill down onto the table for his drink before getting up to leave. He’s trying to put up a wall between you and him.
“Logan I’m serious,” you shout after him following him out of the bar. Logan turns on his heel to face you a before you can think you’re pulling him in by the lapels of his jacket and crashing your lips against his. You pull back, stunned.
“Oh my god, I didn’t even think-“ now it’s his turn to take you by surprise because his kissing you back. Your arms wrap around his neck, his walls crumble under your touch.
He tastes like cheap whiskey and smoke. An addictive taste that you’re sure you’ll be coming back for; like a cigarette.
“I guess you were serious,” Logan chuckles, breathing heavily.
“I can show you how even more serious I am, if you come back to mine,” you grin up at him, still wrapped up in his arms and the electricity of the moment.
“I’d like that.”
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I hate Mel Medarda discourse because she’s an insanely well-written character with a lot of depth, but people almost always have only two things to say about her: 1) evil girlboss or 2) never did anything wrong. both make me want to krill myself 🦐
In front of you, there’s a female character born of war who rejects the physical brutality of her family’s name and the regime she was born under. except said violence never really goes away because if it ever does leave, nothing else would remain
This character can and will reproduce the hatred she has always known, just in more palpable ways, ways where she’s allowed to look away — or even better, ways where she’s so distanced from the action itself that where she “looks” doesn’t even matter
It’s also so interesting to think that maybe Mel doesn’t dislike physical violence because it’s “bad” but simply because she does not excel at it The thought that if Mel was maybe stronger or a more skilled fighter, she would be just like her mother tickles my brain. yaaaas Although, to me, that's a more "what-if" scenario than the actual characterization Arcane deceipts
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By the way, I do not think Mel is a monster. She clearly does try to be what she considers a "good" person, but the violence she’s always known sometimes escapes (just like in the Viktor scene above — she does not like to be disagreed with).
Sooo insane that she’s a diplomat/politician because yes. what other job in the world would allow her to exercise that repressed violence while also giving her the sense of duty—of goodness.
Mel is stuck at the scene of the execution form her childhood. All she does is repeat the same scenario in her head with different outcomes: sometimes one where she saves the prisoner, another where she doesn’t hesitate (that being the keyword here) to kill her
This reverberation of the violence she suffered is just her manner of coping with that traumatic scene. a way of lessening the pain without actually confronting its cause.
I feel like I need to clarify that no, I do not think Mel is “evil”. I don’t even think she is intentionally manipulative (most of the time), I think she handles people the only way she knows how to, which is probably one of the only reasons she survived Noxus at all (as, to how I see it, there's only a certain extent your House will guarantee your protection in Noxus).
I know the fandom talks a lot about Viktor and Jayce being idealistic, but I rarely see people mention how Mel is just as romantic. Jesus- that’s literally a huge source of conflict with her mother: Ambessa thinks Mel is naive, which to her means weakness, which to her is unacceptable.
I hate that Mel Medarda is forced to be subjected to fandom spaces, because, no, she is not a small bean. no, she’s not an evil girlboss.
Do I believe she is a good person? I think she tries to be (even if her notion of goodness is so heavily aligned with honor, too), and that tells me a lot more about her character than how successful she is at it
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