#i thought this would be appropriate to add

[witch-of-snow-and-stars]

How to Make a Charm Necklace Magic-Style

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩‧⁺⋆⁺‧₊☽✧☾₊‧⁺⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

So in a recent post I talked about having a set of charms that I wear whenever I leave the house. I thought it might be a fun tutorial to detail how someone could make a similar thing for themselves! The post is a long one, so the rest of the guide is under the cut!

Step 1: Lay out all of your perspective charms and see what speaks to you and what you might want to put together. When you're choosing pieces, try to think of your goal and intent while you're putting your charms together (i.e. mine is for general day-to-day so I mostly focus the charms around safety, ease of way, and good fortune. Tailor yours to what you need). You don't have to make a necklace, just make sure that whatever you're attaching your charms to and the jump ring(s) connecting everything are sturdy enough to hold the charms' weight.

I have a 'main' components and 'auxiliary' components with the main components being the anchor points and foundation of what I'm working towards (i.e. I have my locket with sigils and my key charms as main components and I'll switch out the other parts as desired). Listed below are some ideas for options that you can combine, but use whatever feels best to you:

Lockets- I HIGHLY RECOMMEND that a locket is part of your configuration. You can fit a slip of paper with spells/sigils written on it AND if it's a scent locket you can add a bit of fabric with a perfume oil or a spell oil that would be safe to wear (check the spell oil ingredients if you're going to use a spell oil).

Bottle/Vial Charm Pendants- these are really good for wearable spell jars (you'd just have to careful about breaking them). You can buy pre-made bottle spell charms (there are a lot of options available) OR you can buy a vial pendant and do a working of your own choosing depending on your preferences/needs (there are also many options for empty vial charms you can buy). You could also keep spell powders/dusts in a vial charm (also usable for on-the-go workings).

Crystal Pendants- If you are someone who utilizes crystals in your practice, having some complementary crystals or crystals that you tend to favor can really add a kick.

Religious pendants/charms- Pentacles/crosses/saint pendants/deity pendants/etc. are all good options for this sort of configuration if they're something that features in your practice or you have a specific figure you want to invoke.

Symbol/Icon charms- similarly to the option above, charms that have animals/flowers/symbols/ whatever else you may want to invoke the properties/help of can be a good addition as well

Bells- bells have traditionally been used in different cultures for sound cleansing and to ward off negative spirits/entities. If that's something you might want (and are ok with making some noise) adding a bell might be a nice touch.

Keys- keys are useful magically for unblocking roads, gaining access, and invoking magic/energy relating to crossroads. Keys/key charms can be pretty easy to get too, so it might be worth trying to have one in your configuration.

Other meaningful charms: as it says on the tin, if it's important to you or you want to keep it on you, try it out in your configuration see if it will work well with it. In the picture above of my own pendant collection alongside more standard pieces there's an antique pen knife that can be worn as a pendant. Put whatever you want on these configurations is my point.

Tip! Some pendants like the pendant on the right have a paste/textured back that you can write on. If that's something you'd want to do, aim for something that looks like the pendant on the right. It's a solid way to hide sigil magic in your jewelry.

Step 2: Prepare the individual charms that you're going to be putting together. Clean/cleanse* everything appropriately (use mundane and magical methods), get sigils written out, anoint anything that you want to anoint, charge/enchant anything that needs it- whatever workings you need to do to the individual components of your charm necklace, do them now.

*If you're using metal pieces (especially if they're old/antique) there's a decent chance you may need to clean those pieces periodically with a metal cleaner/polish. When you clean the metal, do maintenance work for the rest of the configuration by charging/re-enchanting the other charms.

Step 3: Put your charms together and test out your configuration. Sometimes things won't work together as well together or a different component will work better in your configuration.

Ending Notes & Tips

If you put something like this on an object, make sure you focus on how you need/want to effect the object. Like, I have another variation of this on a chain on my bag, and that working is more focused on security and being unobtrusive more than anything else.

Generally I would consider how fragile your individual charms/items are and how likely breakages are to occur. You don't want to be scattering any broken glass/sharp bits and you definitely don't want to cut yourself on anything in the event of any broken charms.

Other considerations should be if individual parts are safe to wear. As previously mentioned, select for spell oils that are safe to wear and for crystal pendants that won't interact with water/skin oils/body products (i.e. selenite melts in water and pyrite will create sulfuric acid when exposed to water). Basically make sure that having this on your skin isn't going to cause any problems for you.

It can be a a good idea to change up individual charms in your configuration to tweak things to your daily needs. Using my usual configuration as an example, I'll switch out my crystal pendants or other charms if I have specific needs/events for a day (like maybe if I'm traveling I'd add more protection/safe travel oriented charms or if I had a date on I'd choose one of my love/attraction charms).

I hope this gave you some ideas for your own practice, thanks for reading💜

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩‧⁺⋆⁺‧₊☽✧☾₊‧⁺⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[luckcycler]

One thing about character sprites I'm curious about - how does a dev usually go about deciding how many and which are necessary? Do you begin with a list of basic, semi-universal "moods" and go from there?

that's probably smarter than what I did because it limits the amount of sprites you will be using the way I went about it was that I re-read the text and thought what kind of sprite would fit in what scene which kinda bloated the amount of sprites I was thinking of doing

now I'm going back and merging a couple of them so the work going to them won't be as vast

what I recommend doing is give your character about 3-4 poses and then add appropriate expressions on those poses, some of those poses can be even just a change in hand position for faster sprite making then think about how that character emotional range and how they hold themselves, if they are more of a skittish people pleaser, those poses will most likely have that character with their hands close to the body or nervously fidgeting something instead of a confident pose with faces you probably won't need an angry sprite for them either unless the story needs one

Here's an example with Tsubaki:

[themenaceofalderaan]

[alangdorf]

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

The rescent riots in the UK are despicable (but sadly not surprising).

Yes, what happened to those little girls is a tradgey, but the person who was responsible wasn't an asylum seeker, and even if he was, that would NOT excuse the racism displayed these past few weeks.

The people taking part clearly don't care about the safety of children as they're, scaring other people's & indoctrinationating their own into perpetuating racist acts.

Seven years is a lot, though! Then don't fucking join a hate group.

But the non white people are being violent too! Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you attack people. I'm not going to hate on people for standing up for themselves.

They're taking our jobs! Why do you believe that those jobs are YOURS? Are you actually qualified & able to make a good impression on bosses, or do you think just being white should be enough.

They don't work! Well Asylum seekers litrually aren't allowed to until their case gose through but plenty of other POC have jobs (I know you've seen them though it must be hard to make them out through that fog of hatred) & I've met plenty of white people who don't want to (no hate to those who can't because of disability or mental health issues) or loose jobs because they're just overall terrible employees (some of the shit I've seen middle aged white people do at their jobs is crazy).

They're all criminals! Well, that's just not true now is it plus it's been proven multiple times that the biggest factor in crime is poverty, NOT race & again I've encountered plenty of white people who've broken the law yet most didn't seem to get more than a slap on the wrist (if that). Strange, that isn't it?

Well, "those kinds" of men hate women! Ahh, yes, because there's never been white rapists, woman killers, stalkers or harrasers. Its been proven that hating women is a problem in all races & and sadly, the biggest threat to us is usually our own partners or family, not some random aylsum seeker (who if they do hurt women tend to go after the ones from their own community).

They're not from here! Ok, so I don't know if anyone told you, but you can actually be born here without being white and you can't ban people from a country just because of the colour of their skin. Also, neither was half my family, yet we never get told to go back to our own country. Hmm, I wonder if our white skin could possibly have anything to do with that.

They can't speak English! A lot of them are multilingual, actually (& you make fun of their accents) & for the ones who can't well you seem to hate them getting anything (such as English lessons) for free. Also, how many Brits go abroad despite refusing to learn absolutely anything about other countries (there's a reason we're known as disrespectful, violent, sex obsessed, drunks by most of the world).

Also sooner or later we are going to have to accept that a lot of the issues that make immigrants flee their home countries are caused (or at least made worse) by ours & other Western governments.

This country definitely has problems, but we should be taking them up with politicians & their rich mates. Who are the ones actually hording wealth made from the exploitation of the poor, not random people of colour who are just trying to live their lives.

[wishful-seeker]

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

For example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

For example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[mzcain27]

I am so tired of White™️ asian recipes

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | Sukuna X You | CHAPTER INDEX I /PROLOGUE (Part 1-68)

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters (uraume, gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, choso, maki, nobara, mei-mei, etc.)

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

AKI’S NOTES: Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

MASTERLIST

A/N: Yup. Intrigue and a video right off the bat.

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | CHAPTER INDEX II

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with my other smau). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color. it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

TAG LIST: CLOSED

PLEASE READ: If you wanna be included in the tag list, please make sure that your “Exclude __(tumblr username)__ from Tumblr search and recommendations” setting is OFF so I can actually tag you guys and you'll get notifs when I update. Thank you very much.

Here's a reference for the instructions from domainofmarie. Thank you very much, my friend. This is very helpful.

A/N: I have another version of this story somewhere on the internet with different characters, and I thought, why not make it a Sukuna smau. So excited for this! This'll probably come out this weekend lol or the next if push comes to shove.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240514]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[cup-o-stars]

How to draw like you no borax

Good question!

I'd warn against following my process (at least if you want to learn), but I'll be honest and show you, lol. (Heads up: this is just how I do FAN art. When having fun, I generally care less about the fundamentals.)

1. I slap down super rough sketches, jotting lines/expressions like bullet points of my idea. Pretty much stick figures with just enough detail to remember who's who later. Not shown here, I also move, resize, and add details to express the intended composition if I'm planning something larger. You may notice a lot of curved lines / haphazard circles.

2. I refine the sketch by drawing it with more intention and build structure with slightly blockier shapes. If I'm really struggling with a pose, this is also where I'll find references or look at myself for bits and pieces to fill in the gaps. (When practicing, I would highly recommend using a reference from the start so all your limbs are an appropriate length and you don't need to say things like "that's passable" right before posting. If you're a perfectionist you'll leave that thought with the rough sketch.)

3. I'll decide around here whether or not to leave the sketch as is or commit to lineart (not likely). I guess I'd say I "shape the lines" here by going over some to add thickness/weight, and by adding basic sort-of-shading to break things up a little. Then I'll just fill in space if the page looks empty. (Usually this is where I incorporate the borax, but I hear baking soda works nicely if you're worried.)

4. Onto coloring. I don't feel confident enough to pretend I know what I'm doing here, lol. I just choose my base colors, imagine the general direction of the light source, then add minor gradients to the light and dark layers so they don't look flat. Then I just add some BS highlights and outline them. I've only recently found the motivation to properly practice coloring and just go with the flow tbh.

You may notice that Nami's forearm is too long, her hand looks like a pancake and Chopper has no joints! My kind sibling explained to me once that my anatomy is poor, but cohesive enough that nothing stands out too bad, lol. That's why it is important to use references!! And if you're me, practice all parts of anatomy at the same time with full bodies so that even when you're at a loss, your hands aren't that much better than your feet.

All in all, to draw like me, just have a very hedonistic approach to art, ha. Draw what you want, avoid getting burnt out on any single piece (sometimes that happens when you try to perfect drawings one at a time), and follow my personal motto:

Make fun, not masterpieces.

Idk how helpful this was, but there you have it!

[solbaby7]

Lose Control

pairing: rhysand x shy!reader

warnings: nothing really, some swearing and the normal amount of thirst that comes with thinking about a particular High Lord naked and wet.

summary: Poor Illyrian baby Rhys who just really needs your hands rubbing his back—in the bathtub.

——

A deep groan pulls you from your crochet, the yarn ball rolling on the floor beneath you as you make easy work of the flower pattern Azriel had taught you a few days prior. “That bad?”

Rhysand nods, shoes scuffing against the floor before collapsing in the couch across from you. “Everything hurts.”

It’s no less embarrassing the second time around how quickly you set your items down, hands smoothing out the less than appropriate fabric of your nightgown when you stand. “I can get a bath going?” You offer softly, fingers crossing delicately before you and Rhysand can’t help the sleepy little smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth at the sight of you, all silky material and socks with fluffy puffs that had little bunnies dangling from them.

“That sounds nice bunny,” He murmurs, finger reaching out to flick at the little puff. “Can you sprinkle some of those little salts of yours in there too?”

“Of course.” You’re gone shortly after, crochet flowers long forgotten on the couch as you rush off to your room to fetch some bath salts, oils and a vial of bubbles. Rhys is still on the couch when you return, shirt off and pants unbuttoned as he laid on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. It takes more effort than you’re willing to admit to tear your gaze away from the hard muscles of his chest, his defined arms and abdomen so chiseled you wondered if the High Lord would ever ask you to massage that part of him too. You shake the thought off as you head to the bathing chambers, gathering large towels and pouring salts that smelled of lemongrass and oranges into the quickly filling tub.

It’s halfway full and beginning to steam when you add the bubbles, a content smile forming when you light scented candles and drag a stool over to hold a two knuckle pour of some expensive whiskey Rhysand kept near his work table. “It’s ready,” You call out, fingers dipping in the bubbly water to test the temperature and when you’re sure it’s perfect, you turn off the faucet, hands drying on the thigh of your nightgown.

He takes a while to enter, shoulders slouching and feet pattering against the marbled floors when he finally does, dark hair hangs on his forehead when he takes in the scene before him. “Bubbles too,” Rhysand murmured in appreciation, blocking you before you leave, a finger raising to bop your nose with a little smile. “Cute.”

The blush that fans across your cheeks is nearly as warm as the water in the giant tub built to fit the large wings Rhys usually kept hidden. You’re out of the room before he can make any comments about your body’s reaction to his words—his fingers touching you, no matter how fleeting it may have been.

You’re settled back into the couch when you hear the High Lord sink into the water, a breathy groan pulling free and your thighs clench together as you busy your hands with the yarn and hook. You don’t get very far, just falling into a rhythm when Rhysand calls out, “Can you come here?”

“What do you need?”

“Come here.” You swear you hear him chuckle when you huff out a breath, tossing your flower aside once more and your steps are a little snappier than usual when you stand near the door. “Inside.”

A pause, fingers twitching at your sides and you hope he can’t hear your heart thudding. It comes out no higher than a whisper, palms clammy at the thought of him—naked and covered by nothing but bubbles and water. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

“Oh?” It comes out a little teasing, door creaking open by dark tendrils of power that urge you closer. “You’d dare deny your High Lord?”

“Well, no but—“ You eyes are trained on the polish of your toes when you’re fully pushed inside, the gorgeous male splayed about in the tub, feet outstretched and arms loosely holding each side but the first thing you really notice are the giant membranous wings peeking out over the edge. “Friends like you and I don’t really make a habit of spending time together in your bathing chambers.”

Rhysand clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, toes playfully splashing at the water. “Like you and I?”

Your nerves build—Rhys always did love riling you up, constantly murmuring some comment about enjoying the way you blush for him, the way you have to completely turn away to compose yourself when he offers flirtatious words in passing. “You’re my High Lord.”

“And you’re one of my closest friends.”

Just friends.

The words repeat themselves in your brain like one of the catchy songs they played in Velaris but every time they reach your ears it feels wrong. “Yes.”

“Exactly and friends help each other, right? You’re just helping.”

Your brows furrow, momentarily recalling when similar words had crossed your mind a week prior when Rhysand had stripped from the waist up and all but demanded you rub his back. “Wait a second—“

The water ripples as Rhysand moves, back muscles contracting as he twists to face you, a brow raised and a lazy smile on handsome features. “Come here bunny,” He beckoned you closer with that same two finger flick, head tilting just a little and even with this being the master bedchambers, the walls felt like they were closing in with each step forward. “Need your hands. Can you do that for me?”

And like a fly buzzing into a spiderweb, you’re caught in his trap.

Rhysand’s fingers curled around the glass left on the stool, tipping the bottom, a motion intended for you to grab the little stool and sit behind him. So, you comply, movements slow and weary as your hands touch the smooth wood and slide it over. The backs of your thighs sink into the smooth surface, shaky hands grabbing at the bar of soap sitting to his right. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let them,” He sighs, knocking back the whiskey with a little groan. “I’m sure Cass and Az are fighting over who gets you next as we speak—they’ve been talking about it all week.”

“Why not just hire someone?” You ask, fingers slick with the soap as you start at his shoulders with slow, kneading motions. “It can’t be healthy to always be so stiff—doesn’t it affect your fighting?”

Rhysand only nods, eyes fluttering shut and face contorting gently when you follow the line of where neck meets shoulder. “You do it much better. Must be because of your tiny little hands.” A noise pulls from his throat when slippery fingers knead away knots and bands of muscle wound so tight, you were unsure how he’d even managed to put his shirt on.

You repeat the motions over and over, fingers tracing over dips and ridges of his back before shifting over to his arms, your hair falling free from its confines to graze over the top of his wing and the sound he lets out is pure sin.

Your hands retract instinctively, soapy fingers slipping against your thighs when you scramble to your feet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rhysand’s breathing has quickened, chest heaving more than he had been before and the grip he has on the sides of the tub is sure to split the stone in two. “It’s fine—you didn’t hurt me. They’re just sore and it makes them a lot more sensitive than usual.”

Your heart is still pounding a beat faster than usual, hands hanging at your sides, unsure if you were supposed to continue or make your leave.

“Keep going,” Rhys urges, waving the arm you’d been oiling up in the air. “Just go slow.” You obey, hands carefully returning to hard muscle being extra careful when you got close to his wings—even if the noises he’d made from touching them had been branded in your brain for all eternity. “That’s it,” He praises, eyes half-lidded as he sunk deeper into the water.

It’s easy getting lost in the motions when you’re admiring every dip and curve, every scar and the stretch marks that came when growing from a boy to man. You stop once a little snore pulls free, lips parted and features relaxed as your High Lord slept.

The sound of your feet on the glossy floors pulls Az and Cass from their place in the sitting room, brows raised to your sheepish expression. “He feel asleep in the tub and I’m scared he might drown.”

Cassian raised a brow, smirk forming when taking in the soapy hands and the smell of the massage oils before frowning. “You don’t rub me when I’m in the tub.”

“You’ve never asked.”

[exhaslo]

English is not my first language, so I hope I can speak it correctly. I imagined a story where the shy!reader has hot dreams about Miguel, and for some "reason" (Lyla), Miguel finds out and decides to tease the reader until everything ends in an NSFW way. I hope I have given you the idea within the appropriate terms.

Hehehe, no worries my friend. I know just what to write.

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, teasing, slow sex, masturbation, fingering, wet dreams, overstimulation

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This obsession you were having with one of your co-workers was getting out of hand. You knew it was a long shot that you could ever have a chance with the one and only, Miguel O'hara, but you couldn't stop dreaming about him.

Miguel O'hara was the smartest man in Alchemax. He was in charge of nearly everything that had to do with genetics. Every woman wanted to be his, hell, even men wanted a piece of that hot ass.

You? You were part of ordering team. It was a blessing and a curse, mainly because you got to talk with Miguel a lot more than others. You had to get with him to see what materials he needed. You loved it, but also hated it.

Why?

Because each time you talked to Miguel helped you dream of him fucking you raw. His hands pinning your head down against your pillow as he plows you from behind. The thought of his dick filling you again and again made your pussy throb.

His husky voice whispering in your ear, asking you who you belonged too. His balls emptying out inside your womb, coating your walls white.

Drool nearly rolled down your lips as your fingers rested gently against your throbbing bud. Oh, how Miguel O'Hara made your mind wander to the dirtiest parts. It was difficult because you knew something as glorious as that could never happen.

When you got home, you had nothing better to do than record your thoughts. Unlike the past where people wrote in a diary, the year 2099 made things easier. You summoned your AI and set it to recording mode, ready to talk about your wildest fantasies.

"Ah, and when Miguel's hand grazed mind when he handed me the list...mhm...I couldn't help but think how those fingers would feel inside me. Why does he have to be so hot? I can't mutter a word to him about anything other than work!"

You whined and cried as you let your frustrations out in your virtual diary. It wasn't fair. You wanted Miguel to notice you as a woman. You wanted him to ask you out. To make you his.

But who knows whenever that will happen.

---------

Miguel was stuck in his lab, working on some late projects before calling it a night. As he worked, he recalled you. Smiling at how shy you were, Miguel leaned back in his seat. Out of all the girls who fawned over him, Miguel enjoyed you the most.

The way your cheeks turned bright red whenever he spoke was adorable. How you doze off and let your mind wander only made Miguel curious. What could you be thinking of when he was standing before you?

"Lyla, could you find a way to contact (Y/N)? I want to add something to the list." Miguel demanded.

"Hmm," Lyla appeared and started to work, "Oh, looks like she is in recording mode with her AI. Let me patch us in-"

"Ly'a, don't! That's her-"

"Hah, ah~ M-Miguel..."

Miguel froze as Lyla hacked into your recording AI. His eyes widen and cock harden as you laid on your bed, fingered working furiously against your clit. Your body arching as you whimpered moans and cries of his name.

"Ah~ R-Right there....mhm~ h-harder M-Miguel...f-fill me up~!" You cried out before reaching your orgasm.

Miguel shuddered in awe as he watched your pussy spasm and clench to air. Your breathing heavy as you laid down to rest. You took a moment to sit up, whining softly before complaining that you needed to stop thinking about Miguel since he could never be yours.

Oh how wrong you were.

Miguel had Lyla turn everything off. He logged out and hurried out of Alchemax. How could he work when there was a beauty such as yourself desperate for his dick? Miguel had been wanting to make you his since the moment you spoke to him.

Hopefully you were ready for him.

----------

You laid on your bed, sniffing your thoughts away. Your recording ended much differently than you would like. Luckily it was your own personal diary, but you still should probably delete it in case something ever happens.

Upon hearing a knock at your door, you scurried to grab a robe. Who could it be at this late hour? Poking through your door peep hole, you gasped as Miguel stood in front of your door. Hurrying to open, you nearly forget about your exposed self,

"M-Miguel?! W-What....What are you doing here?" You asked with a squeak.

"Sorry-" Miguel glanced down at you, "I, um...came here without thinking."

"Oh...Well..." You could feel your heart racing a mile a minute, "W-Why don't you come in...let me get you some water."

---------

How could you be so carefree? There you were, in nothing but a robe, after just fucking yourself to him. If Miguel didn't have his spider powers this might have been a different scene playing out. Oh, the temptation to pin you against the counter and fuck you stupid.

"Actually...I need to confess something to you."

Miguel needed to control himself. Perhaps he could tease you a bit about what he saw. Perhaps he could make this a bit more natural and playful.

"Lyla-My AI, may have accidently showed me something that is confidential for you." Miguel said as he cleared his throat. The blood had drained from your face,

"L-Like?!"

"Like," Miguel smiled as he hovered over your trembling body, "You crying out so sweetly."

"Ah!" You covered your face as it turned bright red. Miguel leaned down, chuckling lowly,

"Who would have thought those hands of yours could move so fast?"

"M-Miguel-"

"I couldn't help but feel awful for putting you in such a....position," Miguel nibbled against your ear, hearing you whine, "Such a quiet girl making those noises...how naughty."

-------

You could feel your head spinning as Miguel pressed his body against yours. The warmth of his body engulfing yours as his voice whispered against your ear. Everything about this scene was making you wet.

"How long have you been thinking about me?" Miguel chuckled as his hands circled around your waist,

"Mhm~ A long time," You admitted, feeling flustered by his teasing.

"Oh? Do you touch yourself like that every night?"

Your robe was starting to come undone as your body went on full display for Miguel. His head against your head, causing you to press your chest against his.

"Y-Yes," You stuttered.

"How naughty."

Miguel chuckled once more as he kissed your neck. Your robe had fallen on the floor and Miguel's hands were firmly on your waist. His leg pushed forward, causing your pussy to sit against it. You whimpered a whine as he kept pushing his leg against your wet cunt.

"What an honest body," Miguel hummed as his hands grouped your breasts, "And here I was about to ask if you want me to stop."

"No." You begged before tugging against his sleeve, "Please...Please fuck me."

-------

This was heaven on earth. Never had you thought this moment was ever going to happen.

However, you expected it a lot faster and rougher than this.

"A-Ah~ M-Miguel~~" You cried out.

Miguel was hovered over your naked body like a god. Your legs were thrown over his shoulder and his cock was deep inside you. Miguel's body was even more perfect than you ever dreamed of. His dick was far bigger than your wildest dreams.

"Hm? Don't like it slow?" Miguel chuckled lowly as he slowly pulled out with a grunt, "Your pussy is sucking me in so much. Thought I give it a nice treat."

"Hah~ s-so deep..." You whimpered as he pushed himself back in.

Miguel's slow movements was making your body heated. The tight knot in your stomach was far different from what you've ever done to yourself. His dick was kissing every part of your pussy you didn't even know existed.

"Awe, about to cum?" Miguel asked as you shivered from his slow thrust.

You wanted him to ravish you. You wanted him to make you see stars, not make you go crazy. Gasping as Miguel rubbed your clit, you cried as you gushed all over his cock. Your walls sucking him in more, begging for him to fill you.

Miguel could only chuckle as he kissed your body. His hands roaming everywhere as you calmed down from your high. Miguel pressed his hips closer, hitting you deeper than what he was prior. You flung your head back, moaning in pleasure.

"Is this everything you've ever dreamed of?" Miguel asked with a soft pant.

"Mhm~"

You were squirming slightly as Miguel continued his slow, yet deep thrusts inside you. Your vision was slightly blurry as your body started to shiver, but you could have sworn that Miguel was groaning. He wanted to go faster too.

"M-Miguel...y-you can...mhm~ go r-rough~" You cooed. Miguel licked your neck, biting against it softly,

"You better not regret it then."

Before you could say a word, you gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's pace became rough. His dick slamming into your gummy walls, making loud lewd sounds filled the room. Your juices soaking the bed sheets under you as he kept hitting that sweet spot you've gone nuts over.

Your moans became loud and pornographic as Miguel gave you no time to rest. You had cummed again, coating his cock white as he continued to ram into you. You body shaking and jolting with each thrust as your sensitivity grew.

"How lewd," Miguel groaned against your ear as his hips slapped into yours, "Don't know bout you, but I wouldn't mind getting used to this."

"Ah~ Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out.

Miguel chuckled as you started to arch your back. Your expression getting more expressive as you started to get fucked out. Biting his lower lip, Miguel grunted as he bottomed out inside of you. His eyes sparkled as your mouth made a cute 'o' form.

"Now, how could I stop with just one?"

You gasped, gripping onto the bedsheets as Miguel flipped you over. Your head pressed against the pillow as he went balls deep inside you. Your body shaking in rhythm to his rough thrusts as you enjoyed the feeling of his cum pouring inside you.

"Ah~ Mig~"

You were in heaven. All you could focus on was how good your pussy felt with each thrust. How good Miguel was at hitting each sweet spot you had. You shook in pleasure as you felt Miguel cum inside you again, groaning to your moans.

"(Y/N), next time you think of me....call me so I can show you how to feel good."

"Yesh~" You cooed.

-------

Miguel chuckled as you fell asleep after his last load. Honestly, he could keep going with his stamina, but you weren't ready for that yet. Carefully picking you up, Miguel made sure to wash you up and change your bedsheets before tucking you in.

He may have went a little overboard. But you didn't mind. Smiling as he covered you in the blanket, Miguel kissed your head before heading out.

"See you tomorrow, (Y/N)."

Of course, Miguel took your panties home as a souvinier.

You weren't the only one who had wet dreams.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!

[etherealspacejelly]

Some of my opinions, in no particular order

golf courses should be abolished. mini golf can stay. actual golf? no. golf courses take up so much water to maintain their grass, grass which, btw, is a monoculture and bad for wildlife. the area that golf courses take up could be used for affordable housing, or natural areas left to grow with wild native plants that are better for the insect populations. but nooo, we gotta use all this land so that stuck up rich people can play the most boring game ever invented. bullshit.

the police should be abolished. i would settle for defunding but really they just need to go.

children are people, treat them as such. kids have thoughts and feelings that are just as real and valid as yours.

on a similar vein, you are allowed to not want children, but that doesn't give you a free pass to hate kids or be mean to kids. they didnt ask to be here, be kind.

there should be a maximum wage. after a certain point, there is no amount of labour you could possibly do to Earn that much money. your workers earned that money, and you are stealing it from them.

there is a difference between millionaires and billionaires. when i say eat the rich im not talking about actors and musicians, im talking about people who are directly responsible for poverty, hunger, suffering, and homelessness around the world. people who hoard obscene amounts of wealth that No One could ever hope to spend in an entire lifetime and simply watch while minimum wage workers struggle to put food on the table and the elderly freeze in their homes.

sex ed should start in primary school, at an age-appropriate level. if kids are old enough to ask questions about sex, they are old enough to learn about it in a safe environment. they should be taught correct anatomical names for body parts (penis, vulva, vagina, etc.).

there should be more research into autism and ADHD in adults, this shit doesn't just go away when you grow up.

diagnostic criteria for disabilities, disorders, and mental health conditions should be written by people who have or have had these conditions. how is someone supposed to know if they have autism, for example, if the symptoms are written from the perspective of someone who has never experienced it?? doesn't make any fucking sense.

hostile architecture should be illegal. unhoused people deserve a place to sleep. or better yet, give them houses. there are literal studies done that prove that housing people saves the government money in the long run, so why aren't we doing that? make it make sense

edit: updated to add more clarity to the golf thing. didn't explain that one well enough and left some people confused

[gay-dorito-dust]

( ´∀`) I am possibly missing where it says your requests are open or not. I apologize if it is.

If it interests you (your batfam posts bring me joy) how would the boys Jay, Dick, Damian (whoever else) would react to only being able to tell the truth for a day? Like they confess all the things they like about their crush, compliment their family, admit to disliking a dish Alfred made (GASP <(｀^´)> ).

Thank youuuuu~

Jason wore his heart on his sleeve, he lets anyone knows what’s on his mind with zero filter, so him being forced to be truthful was no different to how Jason actually was on a day to day basis.

So at first he doesn’t think anything was out of the ordinary until you asked him a question one day regarding your love life;

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone here Jay, I mean what do I have to do to find somebody.’

‘You don’t have to do anything because everyone else is the problem, not you.’ Jason found himself answering before his mind could find an appropriate response without crossing the boundary of your friendship. ‘They obviously don’t see perfection when they see it because they weren’t looking at you and I find that insulting because who wouldn’t look into your eyes and see forever within them?.’ He finishes and was quick to cover his mouth with his hand, worried that he might’ve said too much for you.

‘And do you see forever in my eyes jay birdie?’ You asked softly, leaning towards him.

Jason drops his hand from his mouth. ‘Hell yeah I do, amongst many other things because you’re worth every heartbreak I’ve ever had in the past because being with you would be my life’s greatest dream come true.’

The next time Jason spoke truthfully was when Dick came to visit and it was after a long, long night of patrol and sleep was at the forefront of his mind, causing it to fog as he let it slip on what he truly thought of Dick.

‘You’re my brother, we may not be related by blood but no one has stood in my corner and was so prepared to be in the wrong then you Richard, and for that I thank you. You really are the best of us.’

Needless to say when he found out that Dick had the whole thing recorded, he wanted to strangle the fucker and make his death look like an accident. Sibling things.

Now, Jason -much like any other- loved Alfred’s food and would never raise an issue over it as he’d pretty much eat anything with his bottomless stomach. So even if he didn’t like one of Alfred’s recipes more self then others, he would say it in the most politest way possible. He loved that kindhearted man too much to ever say anything in regards of the food he’s made him since he was a young lad.

Dick would find peoples expressions to him being honest and truthful funny, but at the same time would be somewhat relieved with this turn out, as he wouldn’t have to force himself to be truthful just to get people to stop asking whether he was alright or not.

He knew he wasn’t always open and honest with his innermost thoughts and feelings at the best and worst of times, knowing all too well of how that would cause lead to the occasional argument of two down the line for himself, but he was never really given the space to figure it out himself on his own time.

So when he found himself speaking the truth to just about anyone, it was as though his heart was exposed for all to see it beating and all. It was as though all of his innermost thoughts regarding everyone in his life was being broadcasted to anyone and everyone with ears and the ability to hear it.

‘You’re so good with Hayley you know.’ Dick blurted once when you were playing with Hayley, stoping as soon as you heard him say this, allowing for Hayley to snatch the toy from your limp hand and lie down elsewhere to amuse herself with the squeaks that the toy would make every time she bite down on it.

‘What?’ You asked.

‘I mean it, you’re really good with Hayley and you’ve been nothing but an amazing person with a pretty smile and addicting laugh.’ Dick adds as he held his head in his hands as he looked at you with a soft look upon his face. Dick wasn’t still that bothered that you knew how he felt, it was bound to come out sooner or later and would take it in stride, even if he didn’t have control over what had just came out of his mouth just now.

The next time Dick finds himself being truthful was when he visited Jason after a long night of patrol and in the midst of a silent period Dick then said;

‘You’re amazing Jason. Bruce doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he never did when it came to us Robins, using one of us as a frame of reference for everyone else isn’t fair but you are my friend, my brother and I am so proud of you. You are not a failure, you’re anything but one.’ Jason sat silent the entire time and after Dick had finished he made a noise from the back of his throat, a small smile gracing his face as he looked out over the streets of Gotham, reaching out to pat Dick on the shoulder and said. ‘Thanks man.’

Dick always cared deeply for Jason, seeing him as his little brother and would gladly stand in his corner no matter what, even if he was wrong because that was what older siblings did. Dick never shied away from how deeply he felt agonising pain when he though he had lost his little brother and confronted Bruce about the entire thing, enraged and grieving simultaneously. Now whenever he caught wind of what Jason was doing as red hood, he can’t help but smile knowing his brother was doing just fine, but would always make it known that he was just a phone call away.

Dick knew Alfred wasn’t going to bite his head off for saying that he didn’t like something but would instead ask how he could better it for his taste. So even if Dick did say anything about one of Alfred’s recipe, he knows Alfred would be more than understanding. However it was an unspoken rule amongst him and his siblings that they’d eat anything and everything Alfred made them without a single complaint unless it was necessary.

They all love that man too much to ever say anything negative about his cooking.

Damian would hate being forced to speak nothing but the truth.

He’d really hate it as being blunt and opinionated was how he always was and so being open and honest wasn’t his forte and it felt wrong in a sense due to it feeling as though he was put in a position of vulnerability.

He hates it even more when he finds himself confessing to all the things that he liked and or found remotely interesting about you whenever you were near, it felt as though someone was pupating him to say these things when deep down he knew they were how he genuinely felt but was too deep in denial to admit this to himself.

‘How do I look?’ You innocently asked.

‘Breathtaking like you always do so seamlessly.’ Damian replied without hesitation before looking up from his sketchbook once realisation hit him, only to see that you were already looking at him with wide eyes.

‘You mean that?’ You said, wanting to know whether or not you heard him properly.

‘Of course.’ Damian said and when he felt his mouth open, he tried to close it but it seemed as though his body had a mind of his own as he found himself continuing to speak. ‘On many occasions have I spent thinking you were naturally breathtaking and have thought so for many more on top of that to the point you are my one sole muse.’ He finished and it wasn’t long before you were planning your first date together.

Damian knew this wouldn’t be the first time he was going to be forced to speak the truth and the second time came in him actually complimenting Tim on his smarts and combat prowess, something that he’d rather drink pure poison before ever admitting out of pride.

‘Tt. Don’t sell yourself short Drake, you’re a competent Robin and an exceptional detective.’ He’d say when it was just him and Tim in the Batcave and immediately regrets it and makes him swear to secrecy, obviously this doesn’t last long after the period of speaking truthfully wears off and Damian goes back to being his blunt, straightforward, unapologetic self.

Damian loves Alfred’s cooking, but all of his cooking weren’t Damian’s favourite and while he wouldn’t hesitate to tell others how he felt, he didn’t feel the same when it came to Alfred’s cooking despite the man being nothing but kind and open minded.

So if he ever were to speak about his least favourite food Alfred had ever made and even when Alfred was more then accepting of his opinion, Damian would try to help Alfred however he could in return for his comments about his cooking. Alfred was probably one person he’d never want to hurt with his words.

[nonuify]

ᝰ.ᐟ 🐈‍⬛ — J.WW ; ! soon to be mrs

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. old money au ! [ smut, fluff & degrading kink oop- ]. idk why inspired by this song lol ꩜. | wc ; 1.8k.

“ who would’ve thought that you were to be with one of the most wealthiest men on earth? but being the wealthiest sure means being the busiest here you are sitting bored in the classiest bar in paris while being on a business outing with your dear fiancé. ”

if you told yourself four years ago that you are engaged to jeon wonwoo of jeon industries you would’ve laughed your ass off.

but now here you are sitting right beside him.

he had displayed his affection to you by holding your thigh with his veiny hands, his fingers brushing slowly on the delicate surfaces of your skin. but he was also giving more attention to the business man in-front of him and you.

now you would bang your head to the wall of boredom but you must admit that it is refreshingly breathtaking to your ears hearing the man talking business with his elegant french accent but you would’ve loved it more if your dear lover was making love to you in the penthouse owned by him.

but of course here he was not giving the attention that you’ve been needing all these two hours. trying squeezing your thighs together to relive some friction but eventually becoming a failed attempt the reason being your fiancé, giving you a blank stare for a moment meaning to warn you but you didn’t give a flying shit anymore you just wanted to get your brains fucked out.

a low sigh escaping your lips from clear frustration following a roll from your eyes which caused the french man to speak up “mademoiselle it must be tiring for being a wife of such a busy man” a chuckle out his lips while taking a sip from his martini, a giggle also left your lips with a response “well if I may say yes it is tiring but wonu always makes it up to me” a wink flew to wonwoo making him smile.

“by making up I’m sure you mean hurting his credit card” a hearty laugh from the client.

“well no, but the answer well… let’s just say it isn’t appropriate for a business scene like this” a smirk forming on your lips, enjoying every moment of this, but as your eyes shifted to your lover you couldn’t say the same, his eyes widened as he almost choked from his alcoholic drink from the words the graced your mouth.

but smoothly saved the awkward silence by saying “I think my darling angel here has had too many drinks” he chuckled but did not mean he found it funny one bit.

instead he was frustrated maybe even abit jealous if he may add he knew that bastard of a client was flushed when y/n said that, not to mention he dared to check his fiancé out too many times for his liking.

“well.. it was nice meeting you mr.aucalir but i think i need to take care of y/n here” he said putting a hand around your shoulder, signaling for you to get up from the comfy space of the chairs you were both sitting in. “ it was a pleasure having a drink with you mr.jeon & certainly a delight to have known soon to be mrs.jeon here” he said kissing you hand while you giggled away also went afar from the business man you just chatted with, coming close to wonwoo’s black porsche 718 spyder RS, his looks weren’t the only thing that was breathtaking but also his taste in cars.

the feeling of the seats leather warmed your skin but once you sat done his hand also warmed the flesh of your thigh once again but this time he gripped it tight, you knew you were in for a ride once you got home.

“wonwon you know i was joking my love?” batting your eye lashes at the male who was driving the car, but unsurprisingly you were meant by silence from him but the car sped faster, wonwoo knew your bratty little tricks and he wasn’t gonna give you what you desperately wanted easily.

after of what seemed like a decade of a car ride you finally stepped into the penthouse you guys had lived into for a short-period stay in paris, the simple yet sophisticated well decor gave the housing unit a warm yet elegant vibe, you’re admiration for the designing of the penthouse was cut short when your fiancé pinned your arms above your pretty little head to the wall leaving no space between your bodies, he wasn’t touching you thoroughly yet your panties soaked when he did the simple movement “nonu I didn’t mean to word it out like that I swear it was only for fun” you pouted, knees weakened as he stared into your pretty trapped hands around his & saw the big diamond rock around your finger, memories flowed when he asked to be his forever, then moved his beautiful orbed eyes and looked at yours with so much lust yet so much love.

“I think it’s about time you shut your dirty little mouth for me how about that doll?” he spoke as he left his lips dangerously close to yours eventually kissing you passionately.

his hands moved letting yours freed but went to your hips grabbing them, you wrapped your legs quickly around his waist, knowing this session was heading to the bedroom you slept in.

your roberto cavalli dress you’d previously had worn was now on the floor as you were on the bed, back on the silk mattress & now wonwoo was on top of you, taking off your classic black little thong a wet spot was felt by his hands causing him to laugh “dumb baby gets wet by anything don’t you?” throwing you a smug smile, “you were the one who-“ you get cut off, your own panties gagging you “that motherfucker” you thought as now you can’t do nothing but whine against the thong that was in your mouth.

“didn’t I tell you it’s time to you shut your mouth angel?” kissing your neck leaving purplish-redish marks against it, you knew he loved marking you, it was a way he would prove to the world you were his and his only.

you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you even more wet, whining & moaning louder as your lover moved from your neck to quickly ripping your black bralette that obviously matched your thong.

he groped one of your breasts in one hand with the other he bit & roughly kissed it.

he knew how sensitive your nipples were and oh boy you were in for a very long night, with each kiss the rougher on your poor nub, “mm those boobs were made for me weren’t they angel” he smiled against one of them as you would only moan loudly enjoying every bit of this moment, wonwoo the moved down to your wet sex, hot breathes against it.

kissing your inner thighs first then eventually after more teasing he sucked on your clit , your hands never moved faster down to his hair at that second, his eyes on yours as he licked & kissed away down there, you could only watch and was helplessly gagged by the panties as even your moans were painfully to let out by that you knew if it made you uncomfy he would remove it in a matter of moments.

but luckily you liked it no. loved it deep down you both know you were a little masochist.

“aww my dumb girl is struggling” he faked a pout then went back to tongue fucking your hole, stretching your tight little cunt out until a knot formed in your stomach feeling an orgasm coming, whining loudly as you tugged on his hair more harder, rolling your eyes you finally you came on his face.

panting heavily till you calmed down a little. momentarily after that he took the panties from your mouth & threw it somewhere around the dark natured bedroom, you begged him “please please nonu please fuck me I promise I’ll be a good girl “ as tears formed falling from your eyes, giving him the best puppy eyes ever “but I let you came no?” disappointed as you began to cry more, thinking of an idea of letting him into fucking you, you got on all fours pressing your ass on his clear raging boner “such a pathetic cocksleeve” but he smiled at how desperately you wanted him he found it cute even.

you heard his belt being taken off, you couldn’t be happier after hearing that you could scream you were getting what you wanted all night long “t-thank you s-so much nonu!!” how cute his cute little angel “always so polite when I give you my cock, I guess you are my good girl” he chuckled kneading the flesh of your ass then spanking each side of your cheeks loving the sight of it jiggling.

teasing you, sliding his dick against your folds, you whined pushing backwards to hope you would get him inside of you quickly, but he answers by grabbing your head and pushing down on the mattress with one hand and pushing his cock in your tight hole with the other.

make-up that took hours for you to finish was totally ruined.

your knuckles turned white from how you gripped at the mattress “w-wonnwon!!” moaning loudly feeling as he stretched you out completely by his big cock, “fuck a-always so fuckin’ tight f’me” he groaned thrusting slowly for you to adjust to his size then picking up the pace, skin slapping & lewd noises was filled with in the room.

“mm fuck this cunt was made f’me isn’t it princess, m’gonna wife you up ” you only muffled a mm! yeah! loudly as a response, too fucked out to respond correctly.

“gonna cum with me angel?” his thrusts sped up feeling his high he moaned and said again “cmon baby come with me s-shit” both moaning in unison riding your high together till he came & you squirted out on his cock.

loving the feeling of his warm seed in you, you whined after he pulled out and lied down on the bed with you “fuck that was really hot baby, squirting all for me” he pushed the hair out your face and leaves kisses all over your face, saying precious compliments on how you did good for him, “mm love you nonu” you hugged him lying with him soon into going into the world slumber “love you more angel” he smiled pulling you close to him.

the tingling thought of tomorrow & the day after & after because what was awaiting is the best life you could wish for as long as it’s with jeon wonwoo.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ this is so bad I’m so sorry- but thank you for reading >ᴗ< !!

[unlosts]

Hi! I love your work! I saw that you had requests open, so could I request something with Hotch and the reader having to share a room for a case? I'm a sucker for awkward moments and pining so could this be like pre-relationship? And maybe the reader has to ask for a shirt or sweatpants because their own pajamas aren't very appropriate.

Thank you! ❤️ (feel free to ignore it if you don't want to write it)

Thank you for the request!

Word count: Just slightly over 2k.

A/N: MDNI! not super anything but I would feel better lol. Also the ending is me chickening out, but I don't rule out a part 2 either.

“Overbooked?” You ask the concierge in disbelief. 

“I’m afraid so, it means that, unfortunately the hot-” He starts with an apologetic twist of his mouth, but you put a hand up to cut him off, already feeling a migraine beginning to form. 

“I know what it means” You say exasperated. In the short run from the car to the hotel the storm had soaked your clothes making them stick to you uncomfortably, the heat of the lobby doing absolutely nothing to fight back the chill seeping into your bones. 

Your soaking wet duffel bag hangs heavy on your shoulder forming a small ring of water on the red carpet. The people in line behind you huffing in impatience not helping matters at all. 

A drop of water running from the back of your neck through your spine made you shiver uncomfortably. 

The combined feeling of discomfort and exhaustion is making your patience run thin, and the realization that you had no place to sleep tonight was about to bring you to tears in front of the obnoxious family of four right behind you. 

“Don’t you guys have like another hotel or something nearby?” You ask, already knowing the answer by the look of pity the concierge shots you. 

“ma’am I’m sorry but -” 

Before you can cut him off once more you feel a warm palm softly touch your arm, and Hotch appears right by you. Your shoulders drop in relief knowing he’ll fix it. The thought feels silly, It’s not as if Hotch can build you another room but for some reason you’re sure that he’ll find a work around. 

“Is there an issue here?” He asks, his stature and still pristine, and somehow dry, suit more imposing than the drenched racoon look you ended up with. 

“As I was telling her there was a mix up with the reservations and, unfortunately, we don’t have an available room for her” The concierge - Paul - says probably feeling just as relieved as you are to be talking to Hotch. 

“Not here” Paul keeps going before Hotch can ask “nor in any of our other nearby branches. It’s the National Taxidermists Association Convention” He adds with an awkward smile. 

“Did you hear that? I may not have a room but the dead and stuffed deer certainly does” You add unhelpfully. 

“I understand” Hotch says before turning back to you and softly guiding you towards the side  “It’s alright, we’ll just rearrange the rooms” 

“It’s eleven PM, besides Pen said everyone got their own room tonight so it’s not like anyone will have the space” You say petulantly before looking back at him, already apologetic for snapping. 

“I'm sorry, my duffle got ruined because I bought this shitty one instead of my usual so everything's probably soaked, I feel like this shirt is painted on and I'm pretty sure one of the creepy taxidermists was checking me out so I'm honestly not having the greatest night.” 

You were all there for a negotiation seminar, which in hindsight made the fact that a dead squirrel got a room before you more humiliating. 

Hotch only looks at you patiently “it's alright” he repeated, briefly touching your shoulder “We can just share my room” 

Suddenly self conscious, the last thing you wanted was to put him out when all he probably wanted to do was talk to Jack and pass out, alone, in his own room. But he must have read it on your face because before you could make up an excuse he picks up your go bag and adds “It would make me feel better knowing you're near by and not in some motel, especially tonight.” 

As if to back him up, thunder suddenly struck, loud and impossible to ignore. 

“Okay,” you agree, going for the elevator “but you're not taking the couch” 

“Am I that transparent?” He asks as you both wait for the doors to open, along with some of the other guests and their suspiciously big suitcases. You try really hard not think of what's in them. 

“Sorry, it's the whole Connecticut WASPy manners thing, you’d probably rather get a creek on your neck sleeping on the floor just because it's more polite” You say with a shrug of your shoulder. 

Before he could reply the doors opening, everyone flooding in making you press your back against Hotch, his arm went to your waist to keep you steady after a man not much older than you almost rolled his suitcase over your feet. 

The heat of him behind you and his hand on your front made your stomach clench, it took all of your willpower not to lean back, the thought of him pressing up against you makes your eyes close briefly, his chest almost touching your back with every breath.

It feels like hours pass before you can step into the hallway keenly aware of Hotch just a step behind you. 

Stepping into the room the first thing you notice is the queen sized bed, the plush  hotel comforter drawing you in. You discard your shoes somewhere by the closet, uncaring of where they land.

“You can take the first shower” Hotch says, entering leaving both of your bags by the door “better warm up before you catch a cold” The thought feels entirely caring and entirely Hotch but the suggestion brings a more pressing issue to the front of your mind.

“um” you say, widening your eyes at the realization that you have nothing to wear “everything I have is soaked, like fresh out the washer before the dryer kind of soaked, you don't happen to have a spare set of pj's in there do you?” 

He doesn't reply, just goes over to his bag and hands you a small pile of clothing “you go ahead, I'll go down with your clothes and see if laundry service is still open, wouldn't want you showing up tomorrow in a hotel bathrobe” he says with a smile and before you can protest he's off with your duffle bag. Leaving you alone with this uncomfortable feeling in your chest. 

Once inside the bathroom you go through the clothing, the first thing you pick up from the pile is a threadbare dark blue GWU sweatshirt, soft in a way only a well loved item can be, and you can't help but take the collar up to your nose and taking in the fresh laundry smell and the remnants of his cologne still lingering in the fabric.

By the time you come out, swimming in his sweatshirt and a pair of too long sweatpants, toweling your hair, Hotch is back sans your bag, laying back in bed on the side closest to the door. Surfing through static after static channel on the TV, his head pillowed on the back of his arm. 

“There goes movie night, I guess” you joke walking over to the bed “which side of the bed do you want”

Without getting up he says “this one’s fine” 

At that you snort “that's such a guy thing” 

“Sorry?” 

“The whole sleeping next to the door in case someone comes in” 

“You say that now but by the time a guy in a deer mask comes through the door you'll be glad I picked it” 

“well how chivalrous of you” You smile at him leaning on the bathroom door. 

He smiles back lopsided and a little boyish, his dimples peeking through “It’s those pesky WASP manners rearing their head.”

Hotch looks back at you for a moment from his side of the bed “I hope the shirt is comfortable”

“It’s great, thanks” 

He clears his throat “It suits you”

Warmth spreads from the tips of your fingers all the way up your chest where a pleasant weight settles. 

You sit criss crossed next him to change the channel to something watchable before your mouth wins over your brain and you say something stupid. As you reach over him, fishing for the remote on the nightstand you miscalculate and your hand slips on the bed sheets, toppling you over on top of him, leaving you nose to nose. Close enough to count his eyelashes. 

You quickly sit back up but upon your haste you both move up at the same time, falling back into him as your hands find purchase in his chest. You feel the rise and fall of every breath he takes, the thrum of his heart matching yours. Your eyes lock again as his hands circle your waist to keep from falling from the bed and into the floor. 

“Shit” You whisper “I’m so sorry Hotch” But it’s hard to be when you’re encased in his arms, feeling the muscle of his chest underneath your fingertips as his big, calloused hands burn a mark on your back. 

“It’s alright” He says in a tone matching your own. 

With his help you sit back up and he hands you the remote you were looking for. Tucking an errand strand of hair behind your ear you put on a random channel. 

A black and white movie plays on in the background as you look at him, the faint glow from the TV casting moving shadows across his face, suddenly highlighting his strong brow or straight nose. 

Your breathing matches his, suddenly the low light of the bedside lamp reminds you of candlelight, a gossamer filter cast over you. 

As you’re about to speak, not really knowing what you were actually going to say he breaks the silence first  by standing up and heading to the bathroom to shower.  

It feels impossible to know Hotch, what he’s thinking or feeling, you want to unspool his thoughts, display them out like a film reel for your viewing pleasure. Know him as intimately as you sometimes feel he knows you. 

You’re  settled back in bed, still lost in thought, by the time the water cuts off he comes out in plaid blue pants and a white t-shirt smelling like soap  fresh laundry. His hair still damp and shirt collar askew like he dressed in a hurry. 

Hesitating for a few seconds before peeling back the covers and getting in, his body heat right next to you, a contrast against your cold skill, the cold never having left you. Immediately making you shiver despite the thicker sweatshirt. 

Hotch clears his throat again, more out of embarrassment from what he’s about to do, and it’s odd to see him like this. You’re used to seeing him be sure of himself, unflinching in the face of murderers, government officials and incensed police captains alike. 

It’s an alien feeling seeing him blush, or hesitate before speaking, it only serves to deepen your fondness for him, it makes you want to lean in and press a kiss against his heated cheek. 

He opens his arm in a silent invitation, you curl yourself sideways against him, your cold nose pressing against his neck as his warm hands trail up and down your back in what began an attempt to warm you back up. The lazy movement up and down meant to lull you to sleep, is instead sending shivers down your spine. 

“Better?” Hotch asks. 

“Much, thank you” You reply, resting your ear against his chest. 

You don’t say anything else but let your hand trail up his stomach, feel the muscles softly clench underneath your hand before letting it rest there and look up to see his eyes closed and his lips parted. As if he could feel your gaze on him he opens his eyes still panting. 

Hotch looks at you with a questioning gaze, the certainty in yours seeming like the only answer he needs. 

His hand is a gentle weight on the back of your neck draws you in until your nose to nose, lips a breath away from touching. His thumb caresses your cheekbone back and forth, clouding your senses until you have tunnel vision, the room fades away and all you can see is him. You nose trails his for a moment as your forehead presses together, your hand coming up to touch his jaw. 

“We shouldn’t ” He says, breath fanning against your lips while his eyes close briefly. 

“No, we should not” You reply, but neither make a move to part. 

“What should we do then?” 

“You should tell me goodnight” 

“Goodnight, then” He says and his deep voice reverberates under your hand still perched on his chest. You lean down and leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth as his breath stutters. 

Before you can pull off of him his hand draws you back in finally kissing you. Time stops existing right then, the kiss is hungry but unhurried, Hotch is patient and tender as he rolls you over resting your head against his forearm.

Your breathing's labored as you part “See now we really should go to sleep”  You say breathlessly, chest heaving up and down. 

“We absolutely should,” He says teasingly. 

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette