#the most deserving of that tag I think. these are complete rambles

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

You know what? I think you’re pretty neat (dumps my notes on random mostly non canon ideas for my aus)

[devotedlystrangewizard]

god could you imagine if people focused on the actual golden boy getting like twice as much content as his fellow companions rather than like 2 new lines for one bad guy to make one scene feel more in line with the one other scene with said bad guy

[tojivu]

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

Hiii ! Congratulations on the 350 followers !! I love your blog so much you totally deserve it, I’m so happy every time you post a new writing !!

Thank you for tagging me it was so unexpected but I’m truly honoured 🫶🏻. Would you consider doing head cannons for jason x daughter of athena ? Im a cabin six girl and Jason is my fav. If you don’t have time or if you don’t want to write it I completely understand :)

By the way I love all your fics they are AMAZING.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of athena! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of athena! reader hcs warning: i think language???? author's note: YOU!!! MY NUMBER ONE FAN YOU!!! i love love seeing you spam my notifs, it makes me so happy!! so of course i tagged you as a fav, duh!! anyways YOURE AMAZING AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

NERD'S FALLING IN LOVE ALERT

you guys met through leo, strangely enough

jason had been hanging around bunker nine when a goddess walked in-

jk jk jk but that's fr what he thought

you handed off some blueprints to leo, explaining what each one was, getting excited as he bounced ideas off of you

"oh, right, this is jason. jason, y/n," leo introduced with a wave of his hand, walking away as he went to put the blueprints in a special place

"oh! lovely to meet you," you said, offering him your free hand

"y-yeah, same- same here," he stuttered through his sentence, unable to pull his eyes from you.

you breathed out a laugh, ducking your head and turning away from the blonde boy, chewing on your lip as you called your leave

jason stayed put, watching you go, unable to move, breathe, speak-

"dude, don't drool in here. that's gross and also a slipping hazard," leo mocked, though he was growing excited at the prospects of playing matchmaker with piper.

but he didn't need to, as you stomped up to the zeus cabin the next morning during breakfast

jason had been sitting there, lonely as could be, passively reading some history book chiron had lent to him while chewing away at an apple

"hey, jason, i was just- oh my gods, i love that book!" you cheered, your thoughts getting cut off as you noticed the book in his hand

jason jumped, his eyes instantly darting up to you in a panic, his heart working double time

"what chapter are you on?? it gets so good after five," you rambled, leaning towards the boy with an excited glimmer in your eyes that jason was rapidly falling in love with

"just finished five. it's gets better than that?" he questioned, attempting a joke and earning giggles from you.

his new favorite prize

all good love stories start with the bonding over a wwii book, duh!!

then, you guys started trading books

you gave him one about architecture that annabeth had gifted to you and he gave you one on aerodynamics leo had given to him as a joke

you guys traded books for a few weeks until you came up to him, meeting at the previously declared trading spot, though this time the book was clutched to your chest

"okay okay, so...i- i annotated this one. for, uh, for you," you muttered, holding the book out to him.

jason beamed a soft smile, taking it from your hands like it was the finest gold.

"that was very sweet, y/n," mused jason, which left both of you blushing

you quickly stole his book from him and marched away

jason was eager to read the book, shooing away everyone so he could lay in his cabin the whole day and read what you had to say about the book

naturally, the highlighter and tabs were color coded, a little legend in your handwriting at the start of the book

this was the most jason ever smiled while reading a damn book and it was because of you

he finished the damn thing in one day, refusing to stop until he was done

the very last annotation had jason jumping out of his bed and racing out of his cabin in search of you

there, on the last page, in light blue pen it read, "now, when are you going to catch on that i like you and ask me on a date, jason grace?"

it did it a lightening fast speed, finding you and the words to ask you on a date falling out of his lips

you just smirked up at him, nodding your head in agreement

athena always has a plan, right?

typically, most dates consist of you and jason hanging out in his cabin and reading

sometimes you sit in jason's lap, or you guys are just next to each other, or you guys are other sides of the cabin

it doesn't really matter as long as youre together

when you guys take snack breaks, you explain everything that's happened in your books since the last snack break

jason made you a bookmark, putting his own sketches on there of an owl and an eagle

you called him cheesy but also haven't been seen without it since soooo

you like to steal jason's glasses away, putting them on your face as he tries to take them back

"now im gonna finish my book first! ha!" you cheer, snatching his glasses and taking rapid steps to the other side of the cabin

"get back here!! this is ableist!!" he calls after you, trying his best to find you with his blurry vision

you gently put them back on his face after he catches you in his arms, planting a soft kiss to his lips

"hmmm. you look better as a blurry blob," he smirks, the look on his face giving away that he doesn't mean a word of it

"looks like i'll just have to steal them away again," you tease hands inching closer to the glasses again only for jason to swat you hands away

you guys are a pair of nerds together, but the cutest pair of nerds to like every nerd fr fr

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi, I am literally awful at making requests and I really hope you’re currently taking requests but I read your fic about Chubby!Bucky and was wondering if you could reverse it, like a short plus size reader and normal movie like Bucky , but not one where he just accepts her body because looks aren’t important but one where he worships her body, he doesn’t just think curves are okay for a woman he loves curves on a woman, you can make it an established relationship or a not, I prefer it not to be an established relationship but just write whatever flows. A smut story would be what I am asking for, some light dom!bucky sub!reader. If it’s not too much to ask can you throw in a kissing/spit kink, not too much focus on spitting but about slobbery messy kisses. Sorry if this is a rambling mess but I hope you can work with it, thank you, love your writing. 💜

YES I GOTCHU!! Always taking requests. Also I got what you meant don’t put yourself down DAMMIT *angry pointing*!! Sorry for the wait had a writers block moment this week but hope you enjoy :)

Big softie buck luvs his chubby gf

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,830

Tags: V!fingering, rough sex, pnv!sex, sloppy kissing, dirty talk, fluff and smut, Bucky is Babie, plus size!reader

A/N: Idk where the breeding kink hopped in but y’know how it be folks.

Bucky had a skip in his step going down the street. He was done with all of the bullshit paperwork in the Flagsmashers aftermath. Sam was taking over mantle of Steve amazingly, Walker was ousted and shamed, and they even got Sharon back into the states. Although he wasn’t completely sure about her.

Regardless he could breathe and go see his sweetie. Perfect, patient, lovely, and owner of the most wondrous curves. Bucky had to keep his dick in his pants for now. He carried a bouquet of roses and some chocolates, hustling down the row of brownstones. His girlfriend was very talented in her career and managed to buy one for herself.

He fought back his giddy grin when rapping on the red wooden door. It slowly opened to reveal her pretty face, mussed hair, and adorable huge t-shirt. The man had to shove down his intense desire knowing that was his shirt. She yelped in surprise, practically launching on the super-soldier.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her under the ass to keep the crying thing from falling. He chuckled, “Hey, hey, you’ll mess up the chocolates hold on.” She grabbed the package blindly and tossed them on a side table. She nuzzled into his scruff, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

She sniffled, “Don’t need em- I got you.” The super soldier shook his head with a toothy smile, placing the flowers on another surface while leading the pair to the living room. He stroked her back in an attempt to quiet her crying. Bucky did not need to have the usual happy-go-lucky woman crying over the likes of him.

Sitting back onto the plush couch he murmured, “I’m back now, done, you’ll want to kick me out before the end of it.” His flesh hand thumbed away a tear and tipped her chin up. The girl wiped at her eyes and half-giggled and sobbed, “I know, I was so worried during it all. The news aren’t good for my nerves.”

Bucky wanted to sappily get lost in her watery eyes, framed by long clumped lashes. He murmured while stroking along her lush sides, “I can give you first hand doll,” he absently waved, “Tell me about you.” She rolled her eyes and replied, “Work, worrying, watching Alpine, I started a new project.”

As soon as the white cat was mentioned she appeared, purring and snuggling up to the pair. Bucky felt his eyes slightly water as he croaked, “There’s my sweet girl.” The cat let out a little ‘mrow?’ and promptly bit his hand. The couple busted into guffaws, Bucky snarking, “I guess that’s what I deserve.”

He leaned back, pulling his girl onto his chest.

“So tell me about that project, baby.”

He was listening to her talk about work and the project, really, but other things were starting to rear their head. She was so soft against him, lovely curves and pillowy breasts. The woman seemed sleepy recounting the latest news, words slightly stumbling. Bucky figured it was time for a wakeup call. So he grabbed a handful of ass, smirking lecherously.

She squeaked and bolted upright, gaping at Bucky. He snickered, “What?” She narrowed her eyes and groped his half-hard dick in return, the brunette’s eyes rolling with a breathy laugh. Bucky rumbled, “Sorry sweetheart, y’feel so good I lost control.” He squeezed again and nosed along her jaw— drawing out a gasp.

“Imagine how I’ve felt, toys don’t do the trick when I have a sexy super hero saving the world.”

Bucky grew jealous. He didn’t care if they were inanimate— only Bucky gets to watch his sweet girl lose herself in pleasure. He growled, “Oh yeah? What did you try?” She bit on her lower lip, eyes darting to the side, face flushing with embarrassment. Bucky ground his heavy cock against her thin underwear to goad her along.

She mumbled, “The vibrator, mm, then the shower one, y’know with the suction.”

He could’ve taken her right there imagining his girlfriend whining frustratedly on the dildo in the shower— curves slick, soapy, and bouncing with her movements. Bucky nipped her bottom lip sharply, relishing in her whimper. He cooed, “Didn’t do ya’ a lick of good either huh baby? Needed this to treat you right.” He rutted again for good measure, cock throbbing insistently. She shivered on his thighs, eyes growing glossy in desire.

She whimpered, “B-Buck, please.”

He growled, “Open.”

The girl did so obediently, widening lax lips. Bucky tilted her head back and dropped some of his spit onto her tongue. He commanded, “Swallow.” She whined thinly, throat bobbing as she did so. Her plush thighs were practically vibrating on his toned ones.

“Please, fuck, fuck,” she cried, tears pricking.

Bucky grabbed a soft cheek forcefully and claimed her lips. She pressed forward clumsily, heavy tits on his chest and little hands wrenching his jacket. Bucky dominated the kiss, his baby too overcome to do much except weak kisses and drooling. He laughed while sucking on her tongue, plundering the cute thing’s mouth.

It was sloppy. Bucky was in heaven. He liked knowing he could reduce her to tears and careless kisses without even getting in her pants. She mouthed against his lips, practically rutting to get closer. Which on that note, he snuck a hand down her plush tummy to get at her pussy. She cried out again, gasping hotly into the super soldier’s mouth.

Bucky slid two flesh fingers across her weeping slit and groaned, “Fuck- sweetheart you’re so wet.” She warbled, “Missed you, please.” In a fitful movement, Bucky flipped her around on his lap. Full ass thickly against his cock and now all of her soft parts for him to grab freely. She seemed too dazed to register, whimpering at the manhandling.

Nibbling on her neck Bucky hummed, “Can you take my shirt off for me baby? Hm?”

She flushed and nodded shyly. He hated when she got shy, thinking her extra padding wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Bucky was a man, he wanted something to grab on when he fucked a girl stupid. She shucked off the shirt, almost curling in on herself.

“No- no- you better stop it. Still like ya’ curves doll,” he tutted.

An annoyed whine was his response.

So Bucky ripped off her underwear with his vibranium arm, donning a shit eating grin. The woman yelping and jolting on his cock. Bucky snickered, “That’s what ya’ get, now I get to see it all.” Her face flushed even prettier, swollen lips lax and wet. He grabbed handfuls of her soft tits and groaned deeply, massaging and tweaking the tender flesh.

Her head fell back again the brunette’s shoulder, brokenly whimpering his name. Bucky murmured, “So sweet, missed my baby.” He thumbed at a peaked nipple and circled around it, sending her ass rocking back against his throbbing cock. Regretfully leaving her breast, he slid his other hand to grope at plush hips and belly before drawing fingers against her slick cunt.

She urged breathlessly, “Oh, c’mon touch me bear, oh!”

He sucked a dark mark behind her ear while delving two vibranium fingers into her slick channel— hot, pulsing, and oh-so-soaked. He grunted in arousal, thrusting and curling his fingers. Bucky growled, “Be a good girl and ride my hand.” She nodded vigorously, mewling and canting her hips against the heel of his palm.

Bucky gritted his teeth to hold back from her ass rubbing perfectly along his strained dick. He had to compartmentalize. Objective one, make his Angel cum. Then he can have a go. She squealed on a perfectly timed curl of fingers on the g-spot and his smooth palm against her clit.

The man used his other hand to grab and pull at her bouncing breasts, mouth leaving a mess of marks all over her neck. She began to tremble, hands twitching to find purchase. His sweetie wailed, “Buck, oh goddd, m’so close baby!” The former assassin paused his bite to growl, “Let go, I know it feels s’good. Then I’ll fuck ya’ raw.”

That did the trick. She loved fucking raw. Bucky had an inkling his girl had been wanting him to knock her up. He wouldn’t mind, more tits, more curves, and a Junior. But Bucky was selfish and wanted her to himself for now— no sharing. Her gushing all over his hand brought Bucky out of his fantasies.

She sucked in deep breaths, exhaling with moans, body wracked with pleasure. Bucky cooed and eased her down, drawing his hand out of her. He could bust right now at the slick coating his pants. She turned and begged for a kiss silently, eyelashes fluttering.

They kissed again, softer this time, softly intertwining their tongues. She whispered into Bucky’s mouth, “Your turn, old man.” Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes dramatically, nipping her upper lip teasingly. She reached behind blindly to help him unbutton, lips sealing together with wet smacks.

Bucky moaned when his achy cock hit the air, her slick center so close to where he needed it buried. She mewled, “Take me, use me baby, get it out.” Later, the man would deny the absolutely pathetic noise he made. Bucky aligned the ruddy tip of his cock to her and gritted his jaw at being sheathed. Her back arched at the intrusion, mouthing at Bucky’s scruff.

He gripped onto her wide hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. Basically a cocksleeve at this point with the way Bucky was slamming his angry cock in. She cried and babbled at the rough treatment, incoherent slurs. Bucky choppily grunted and moaned, veins pulsing with sheer need. She felt so fucking good.

Bucky hissed, “That’s my- hah- best girl, bein’a good little fucktoy.”

She nodded deliriously, drool running down a corner or her gaping mouth, tits bouncing wildly as she held onto Bucky’s hands for dear life. The brunette was going to blow quick at this rate— his girl was sucking him in too good. She seized up and squeezed his dick like a vice.

She had cum again, only a shrill yelp and Bucky’s cock being throughly milked as the indicator. His baby fell limp against him, nuzzling into his sweaty cheek. His balls were full up and pulsing, ready to release. Another one, two, three pumps Bucky came with a loud cry of her name.

He slumped into the couch, still seating inside of his girlfriend while riding out the aftershocks. He could vaguely hear her whimpering about being full under the blood rushing in Bucky’s ears. He wrapped his arms around her soft midsection, suddenly very tired. She hissed, “Not there.”

Yawning, Bucky snorted, “No way in hell baby. Can’t a man hug the woman he loves who just made him see stars?”

She narrowed her eyes for a pause then pecked his lips. The woman murmured, “Fine. Since you’re the man I love who made me see stars two times.”

“Well I could count two since you’re in my lap.”

“Hush.”

[tortor-sauce]

18+ POST LOOK AWAY 👹🔞 if you’re not 18+ PLEASE DNI with this post!! 👹🔞

(sketch and drabble and headcanons)

(jel/reth/oc stuff)

GO AWAY LOOK AWAY!!!!! IM WARNING YOU 🔪

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP I CANT EVEN TAG THIS I DONT EVEN WANT PEOPLE TO SEE BUT I HAVE TO SHOW SOMEONE AND TALK ABOUT IT OR I’LL EXPLODE!!!!

i’m too shy to share the whole picture IM SORRY—i just wanted to capture a few headcanons into a single shamelessly horny drawing of the three of them together. also, my thoughts are completely unorganized and this post is mostly just me rambling!

small disclaimer, if you don’t agree with or like my headcanons, that’s totally valid but please don’t tell me so 🙇 i kindly ask you just move on from this post. thank you!

okay. so i feel like both reth and jel are service tops HEAR ME OUT—like, they’re both just a couple of pathetic lover boys who are so head over heels in love with you. the fact they practically always gift you something when you flirt with them in-game (jel gifting silk and reth gifting soup) i feel is their attempts at spoiling you and taking care of you in their own way. they just want to see you happy and make you cum your brains out a thousand times until you can’t think straight anymore 🥺

and in general, i feel jel would love to shower you in compliments and words of praise and practically worship your body. while i feel reth is the type to show you how he feels and relish in watching you come undone with him. but personally 👉👈 i feel jel and reth align more closely as switches because they’re both so.. so soft and need to be spoiled and loved so deeply (no innuendo intended)

with that said, i think jel is a more intimate and passionate lover while reth is a bit more unhinged and rough. that’s not to say jel doesn’t have his sadistic bouts. i feel it stems directly from his obsessive nature and grows into a desire to watch you submit to him and his whims, sort of in a controlling way. but it makes him so happy when you do. the need to know you belong to him, both your heart and body, is honestly really important to him. i actually feel he has control issues due to a number of reasons but that’s a different discussion—💀 and he rewards you so thoroughly for showing him how much you love him. god, the aftercare? he’s so gentle and attentive and treats you like the most precious thing he’s ever held.

more on reth, while not as sadistic, i feel he’s still plenty controlling when he wants to be. the poor man has hardly any control in his day-to-day life and the fact you allow him an ounce of control? over your body of all things? yeah, that shit drives him mad (positive). gets a bit carried away and leaves marks on your body, hickeys, scratches, bruises, the like. but hey, at least it’s a pretty reminder of how much fun you had together. plus, if anyone sees they’ll know you belong to him. but he definitely teases you about it the following days by making sly comments and even running his fingers over the more sensitive marks.

so, in my polycule i envision moments where two will actively spoil the other. so for instance like when maddox and reth want to spoil jel and shower him in the love and affection he deserves, he gets all shy and blushy but relishes in the moment. he pays them back tenfold once they’re finished, but not that same night. maddox and reth make sure he’s completely worn out so he’ll finally get some damn sleep for once. reth is the same in that regard; he gets all shy and blushy but he enjoys being spoiled for once. not having to care about anything or anyone else and focus fully on himself and his pleasure. and the two know this and want to show him how loved he is. lowkey i imagine jel bringing him to tears, crying tears of pleasure and from overstimulation but that may be a personal thing of mine. 💀 and as for maddox? they both know exactly which buttons to push. i imagine them sort of egging each other along. i mentioned earlier i think jel has a sadistic side to him, well i think the same of reth albeit not nearly as prominent. like, the fact he teases and flirts so much could be for a number of reasons, but how lovely it would be if it were only to watch their reactions each time. with that said, maddox happens to be very reactive and discovering that fact in bed, like, awakens something inside of him to tease more, to push as much as maddox will allow him. and yes, he notices the way jel reacts to it too. it only makes him want to tease him for the fact as well 🥴 WHICH is why i drew him with that expression LMAO normally i would’ve imagined him with a much softer and kinder expression but i think he’s quick to lose himself in the throes of pleasure which causes him to act a bit selfish at times. but like i said, i see him as a service top so really his ‘selfish’ moments are him just spoiling maddie and jel and showering their bodies with so much love and attention.

i have so many more thoughts but this post is getting long and i’m getting embarrassed so i’ll stop there for now.

IF YOU READ THIS IM SORRY LOL BUT THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME///////

[ankles-be-bitten]

i may have fallen victim to the curse of the Bad Aziraphale Take with this post, so i'd like to right my wrongs:

i still agree with this, however i would like to add some insight: the metatron is definitely orchestrating their falling out. he knows exactly what he's doing & he knows that he can't control aziraphale as long as he has crowley on their side--that's emotional abuse 101. the victim is isolated from their real support systems, and the only place they have left to turn is their abuser. i believe that aziraphale knows what he's doing, and that he's just going along with heaven as far as he can in order to protect his demon, but from the metatron's perspective things have to look like they're going according to plan.

i think... maybe this is only half true? not sure what i was thinking when i wrote this; it was late. whatever.

crowley is an optimist, but he clearly had his doubts about how aziraphale would respond, which is indeed based in reality. aziraphale doesn't have a great track record as far as assuming the best of him in the moment (which, i must add, isn't his fault. it is one of his flaws, however). i think the important thing is that he trusts aziraphale to do the right thing in the end.

i still agree with this. however, i want to acknowledge that i felt this was unfair at the time, but in retrospect i was ignoring aziraphale's dependency on external validation that crowley does not have. crowley is far more independent than aziraphale, and i acknowledged this, but i framed it originally as "crowley has an unfulfilled need," rather than what i now think it really is, which is that AZI has an unfulfilled need.

yeah, there it is. different people, different needs.

as far as it being strange that aziraphale didn't pick up on what crowley needed in that moment right away, i do still feel that way--sort of. i honestly at this point just want to pin it down to him being excited.

whatever you have to say can wait--we have all of eternity to say whatever we want, in complete security. we won't have to hide. we can be together. and he wants so badly to be together. that's literally all he wants. he wasn't even a little interested in returning to heaven until the metatron told him that crowley could tag along. this is manipulation 101, people! the metatron knows, or at least can intuit, that crowley wouldn't want to become an angel again. he knows exactly what he's doing to them. this is not a good faith offer.

most of the rest of that post is me rambling about my interpretation of aziraphale's actions and the reasoning behind them. feel free to read the full take if you'd like, but i don't believe it's necessary to break down the whole thing. it mostly boils down to aziraphale needs to see people as people before he can respond properly to their needs. i may or may not still agree with that, i'm on the fence, but if that is the case, it's 100% because heaven has conditioned him to be that way. you need to earn salvation, you need to earn love, you need to earn humanity.

i originally used job as a counter example, but he may actually be a paragon of this interpretation. if anyone deserves salvation, it was job--righteous job, level-headed job, job who lost everything but never, ever lost faith in the Almighty. if anyone has earned aziraphale's sympathy, it's him.

this is just a wonky take. he does care, or else he wouldn't be making the offer. interrupting crowley might have been selfish in the short-term, but to aziraphale, the long-term result is eternity together unhindered. they will have all the time in the world to be an us if they can only get out from under the watchful, dangerous, probing eye of heaven.

i think i was getting close to the point here, but i was still framing it from the perspective that aziraphale had woefully wronged crowley, and that he's not also a victim of the system here. i was in far less certain terms falling into the "aziraphale is naive" trap, when in reality he just wanted to be safe. as archangel, he can do as he pleases without fear of retribution. he has never, ever felt safe before--not safe to ask questions, not safe to be seen with crowley, not safe to run off to alpha centauri with him. blaming him for prioritizing crowley's safety is more than a little silly.

this is just... the ick. it feels like a whole other person wrote this. i am trying so hard to give myself grace for this absolutely rot-gut take.

yikes. yikes yikes yikes. i'm not sure anymore if crowley has ever expressed a pointed distaste for being an angel again; that may just be misguided on my part. somehow i'm victim-blaming both of them here, while also completely misrepresenting aziraphale's intentions. i'm falling into the "he doesn't love crowley enough/the way he deserves" trap, painting him once again as naive, blind, and selfish. oopsie daisy.

i still believe the kiss was an offer akin to the ox rib, extremely alcoholic breakfasts, what have you. it's possible crowley doesn't feel seen--i might even go so far as to say that that's likely--but not in the way i stated originally. he's heartbroken. he's devastated. he might even feel betrayed. but just because he feels that way doesn't make it the truth, and i think a mistake i've made throughout this particular text is mistaking how aziraphale's actions look from the outside for his actual intentions.

i think this was mostly right up until the part about azi being selfish. he's far from selfish, he's not even close to naive. assuming he made a mistake in the f15 at all, he absolutely knows it now. he will do anything it takes to be with crowley.

at the time of this addendum i think he's made a Plan™ and is trying to convince himself he's made the right choice. all will make sense in the end. or maybe it won't. we'll figure it out--some things take time, and we don't have all the information.

i do believe that about covers it. in summary, they are both victims and treating either of them like they're naive or stupid for making the choices they did is unfair because they're both doing the best they can with the information they have available to them. it's heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, and really, really unfortunate. but it's neither of their fault. it's literally all the metatron. if heaven and hell were out of the picture, crowley would've been free to confess and aziraphale free to reciprocate--but that's just not their reality. everything aziraphale does is in order to keep crowley safe, in the interest of us long-term. crowley knows he has a hard time expressing himself, and so he wants to get it out fast, and that's valid; aziraphale having reservations due to safety concerns is just as valid.

it's neither of their fault.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

Is it me or do other people find it jarring how Taika's haters try and distort reality and act like everyone loves him and they are the only one? Or that everyone acts like he's perfect and heaps him with praise for doing the bare minimum when from what I've seen no one who actually likes him does that.

I've seen people like 'if you're cancelling the last of us cancel ofmd cos Taika is zionist scum who supports genocide'.

Hi Anon! Oh interesting question. I don't know if I've personally seen a lot of that specific situation where they think everyone is blindly supporting him (I do tend to block after a certain point so maybe that's why?). If I'm understanding you correctly it sounds a lot like they're seeing any support of Taika as "HE IS PERFECT AND NO ONE SHALL CHALLENGE HIM" when most people who support him know he's not perfect (as no one is) and we accept him anyway.

Which is one of the things OFMD really drives home-- you're not perfect, that's okay! You can do better if you mess up! You are deserving of being forgiven!

Which I mean, in general I think that really points to your first point, that folks who are mad at him are kind of living in this distorted reality. But also too... I've seen this a lot in my personal life with ... various folks that some people see the world in a very black and white state. They see things as "if it's not this, it MUST mean THIS" -- in this case "If people support Taika, it MUST BE BECAUSE THEY THINK HES PERFECT", same with "If he asked for hostages to be released, HE MUST BE SUPPORTIVE OF GENOCIDE".

--- sorry long post is long, I'm in a rambling mood today sorry!---

Which.. to be fair there's a lot of cultural training for that.. as some folks have put in tags of other posts, it's lack of critical thinking and questioning skills. I know where I grew up they were super big into us questioning everything, but when I talk to some friends who grew up in other states here in the US, they didn't get the same focus on critical thinking in public school, and got more of it in college (and not everyone can afford to go to college). I had a really cool 11th grade English teacher who showed us a video in class one day. It was a parody of a documentary and was explaining how the earth was flat (which we didn't know at the time, they didn't tell us this wasn't real). It was weird because it didn't come out and say "the earth was flat" though, it came out with kind of vaguely reasonable sounding arguments from people with "Dr" in front of their name.

I remember looking at my friend who was really confused too and saying something like "wait is this for real?" and them shrugging at me. It wasn't until this part of the video where there's literally cows running around Antarctica that a lot of us were like, "wait this is totally not real". That English teacher.. after we got done with the movie started asking us when it was that we started questioning the validity of the video, and then went into this whole lecture about how especially when we're young, we're so used to just being FED information that sometimes we get fed completely false information and we just DONT know it. The whole exercise was all about questioning and critical thinking skills and how not every "teacher" or "doctor" is going to be as qualified as they try to tell you they are.

I found that whole exercise really eye opening because I had never really thought of people purposely trying to bias my education like that before. I'm sure there's thousands of ways that people learn these kinds of skills (and I know mine aren't perfect) but I found that one to really hit home-- so imagine never being taught that. Never being taught that if you start feeling like the thing being said doesn't sound quite right to question it.

Now of course, some folks are purposefully ignorant and that's a whole other issue, but I do think we need better critical thinking education all over the world (but especially in America what with the vastly different education depending on which region you're in).

ANYWAY omg im sorry -- I dont know if I even really addressed your point, so I apologize if I didn't (the ADHD is strong today I tell you)-- so if I didn't please let me know and I'll try again!

I hope the trolls aren't getting to you too much today, sending love anon <3

[blainesebastian]

i got you (ccg universe)

words: 2,757 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): would loooove to read your take on reader x protective austin. notes: this is part of the ‘coffee cart girl’ universe but can be read alone. masterlist on my sidebar! :)  warnings: some uncomfortable situations  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

Despite the Elvis filming ending, that does not mean life completely settles down. There are interviews, events, dinners, things Austin is automatically invited to and included on and…by being his girlfriend, it makes you his continuous plus-one. And while that’s definitely something to get used to, you don’t exactly hate the vibe that the title carries whatsoever. You don’t go to everything but it’s nice to be included? Thought of—seen. There’s a space slowly being carved in Austin’s life where you can definitely fit. Especially with this whole movie script thing happening for yourself, you’re both figuring out how to manage your lives again, things are exploding in a good way…but it doesn’t mean it’s not a bit chaotic.

Leaving an audition building, you take in a deep breath as you pull your phone out of your coat pocket, your text message thread with Austin still open. You tap on his profile picture to call him, walking slowly down the street as the line trills. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth as he answers,

“’Lo?”

Your face pulls together in a wince, you didn’t realize how late it was, “Shit did I wake you?”

He clears his throat and you can picture him shaking his head with that boyish look he has, half asleep, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. It’s adorable to think about for sure,

“No, I was just dozin’.” And that’s a complete lie but okay, “How’d it go?”

You hum, your head tipping back slightly towards the sky as your boots click on the pavement, “It was incredible—I mean, nerve wracking at the same time? You’re essentially finding a person to represent your thoughts and words and just…everything you’ve put into characters and their development together,”

You shake your head because you’re rambling. Austin’s obviously been through the interview process before and the auditions that come after that. He knows exactly what you’re talking about…and yet, it’s so different coming from your end. Writing a script, watching people actually want to fill the role. You’ve got a great producer who loves your work, an even better boyfriend who believes in you—it’s just hard to imagine that it’s all coming down to actually happening.

A movie of your script. Never would have thought that when you decided to run coffee on the set of Elvis. You know you’re lucky and that Austin helped a lot when it came to editing the script and reaching out to someone you could share your work with but…you’re also trying to lean into something he’s told you countless times: you deserve it.

“It’s surreal,” You finish with a laugh and Austin hums in response, you can hear the smile in the tone of his voice without even having to see him.

“M’proud of you.”

You smile, your stomach fluttering at the sentiment. You can’t wait to come home to him, crawl into bed, allowing him to draw you close and into a kiss. Perfect way to end a wonderful day. “Thank you.” It’s almost a whisper, something so genuine and intimate that it’s difficult to share outloud over the phone.

“I’ll be there in about ten, okay?”

Frowning and slowly coming to a stop, you shake your head, “Austin, I’m practically to the subway—you don’t have to pick me up.”

“Well walk back,” There’s some shuffling on his end of the phone, most likely making sure he has everything including a wallet and car keys, “It’s late Y/N, I don’t want you takin’ the subway.”

There’s this double-edged sword in which you want to tell Austin you’ve been taking the subway since you were a teenager and that it’s not a big deal—by the time he makes it down here to pick you up, you’d be home already. At the same time, your heart warms at the protective gesture.

Sighing dramatically, you turn to face the direction you just came from. “You want me to walk back?”

You can hear the ghost of a smile in his voice, “I want you to walk back,” He confirms, “We can find an ice cream shop still open on the way home—or grab a late-night pizza, whatever you want.”

Raising your eyebrows, you begin wandering back towards the audition building, switching your phone from one ear to the other, “Are you bribing me?”

“Definitely.”

A soft, amused laugh leaves your lips, “See you soon.” Before you end the call.

Regardless that it’s been a long day and you just want to be home, you’re touched by the fact that even though you woke Austin up and he has an equally busy day tomorrow to get rest for, he wants to make sure you’re safe. A smile tugs the corners of your mouth, shaking your head as you look down at your phone and tap the ‘Find a Friend’ app—he’s already on his way. And okay, you definitely wouldn’t say no to pizza, he knows you.

It doesn’t take long before you’re lingering outside the audition building, tipping your head back to look up at the structure. You still can’t believe all of this is happening—the fact that you not only wrote something that other people are compelled by but that it’s going to be filmed. And honestly? you’re not expecting some sort of box-office hit, you’re just honored that it’ll be in theaters and seen.

Austin’s support has been everything. That’s what really matters to you.

You tug on the handle of the building but it’s locked, which you assumed, so you lean against the brick and check your phone again. Eight minutes out. Humming to yourself, you look through social media (briefly, that’s still not something you’re used to) before putting your phone away. The street is pretty empty for the most part, except there’s this guy walking down across the way. Business suit, tall, blonde. Something inside of you makes you avert your eyes, one of those innate things women sometimes learn automatically when it’s dark and you’re alone in public. The only thing that makes you look up is the sound of footsteps getting closer.

This guy is crossing the street. You swallow, straightening your shoulders, trying not to look directly at him but he’s approaching you,

“Excuse me, you know where Grand Street is?”

Clearing your throat, you lean up off the building slightly, “Uh, I think it’s down two blocks.” You motion with your arm in the other direction, where he’s come from, which…doesn’t make you feel any easier.

He hums and nods, looking down the street and then back at you. His eyes definitely sweep over your form. “Waiting for an Uber?”

There’s this chill that dips into your stomach from the question alone, “Boyfriend. He’ll be here any minute.”

He smiles and there’s this moment where you think he might back off but he takes a step into your personal space, which causes you to take a step back right into the audition building. “I could wait with you; this isn’t the best area to be alone.”

You have no idea what possesses people to think like this and you can’t help but wonder what kind of man he is—does he have a family? Siblings? Did he happen upon you and see you alone and figured he could get away with something? Or was he out scoping the area just looking for someone he could harass? Either way, panic surges in your bloodstream. You attempt to get your phone out and walk away,

“He’s actually around the corner, goodnight.”

Before you can even take a step in the other direction, he grabs your shoulder, hard, and forces you against the brick which digs into your back. Your phone fumbles right out of your hand and clatters to the sidewalk. The thing is, you’ve taken self-defense classes before—you know how to kick, to throw a punch, what to do if someone pins you, and yet you feel utterly defenseless. Everything you’ve learned right out the window.

“You know, I was nothing but nice.” This guy snaps, suddenly all the supposed charm washed away from his voice.

There’s an attempt to push him away but he’s taller, stronger, can more easily manipulate your body against the brick wall. A strangled cry leaves your throat and all you can think about is the fact that he hasn’t hit you yet because one punch will knock you out, you know it. And Austin, he floods your senses in such a way that you almost cry out for him.

“Stop!” You screech, pulling at his suit and manage to rip a button off.

“You bitch, that was expensive.” He squeezes your arms so hard, definitely will be bruises, a choked cry escaping your throat as his leg slips in-between yours, forcing your knees apart.

His hand is moving and you panic, start clawing at him, anything you can—

A screech of car tires, suddenly the weight is gone, he’s pulled back from you. You can barely see through your teary blurred vision even though instinctively you know exactly who it is. Austin throws a punch, something hard that cracks, and the guy in the suit stumbles to the pavement.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Austin snaps, “Now.”

There’s a brief moment where the guy considers the opposite but he takes one look at you, spits blood from his mouth onto the pavement, and turns to briskly walk away.

Austin is quick to turn towards you, his complete demeanor changing as he gently touches your shoulders, “Hey look at me,” He cups your chin, running his thumb along your cheek, “You okay?”

The question is so simple and yet when you look up into those blue eyes of his you just burst into tears, the dam breaks wide open. There are the remnants of fear there but also just complete relief that he’s here, that you’re okay. Austin wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his chest and holding you as tight as he can without hurting you. The force of you clutching onto him almost knocks him a step back and he takes a deep breath in through his nose.

“Shh,” He whispers, stroking through your hair, “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Pressing a kiss to your hairline, he draws back just enough to help you walk to the car.

--

The car ride and walk into the apartment is quiet, Austin doesn’t try to ask questions or pry, just allowing you to soak into your thoughts and feel whatever you’re feeling. You appreciate it but at the same time, you almost wish he’d distract you. You know you’re teetering this line of…feeling so ridiculous and ashamed for allowing this thing to happen to you, especially since you’d almost boasted about being able to take the subway without any issues, and on the other hand—it could have been so much worse? So why are you so shaken up?

Yet at the same time, you understand that…stupid and pointless shit like this happens to women all the time and you can own your emotions—that you’re scared, still trembling, trying not to cry anymore. You shed your shoes and your jacket, feet padding against the tile as you make your way to the bathroom. There’s a large part of you that wants to close the door, hide, shut Austin out but you don’t. Can’t. Running a hand over your face, you glance at yourself in the mirror—a mess, bloodshot eyes, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed. Grabbing a washcloth, you run it under warm water before washing your face, Austin leaning against the bathroom doorjamb, soft eyes on you.

“I don’t need to hear ‘I told you so’.” You mumble, sniffling. You toss the washcloth to the side where the hamper is and you can feel rather than see Austin tense up because,

“Y/N, you know I’d never say that.” He gently reaches for your arm, fingers wrapping around your wrist. You hate that you wince, a kneejerk reaction moreso than pain.

Swallowing you turn towards him, not quite looking into his eyes, instead reaching for the fabric of his shirt to play with between your fingers. A grounding point for yourself—you’re unsure if you want to shower or just…crawl directly into bed and not get out for a little while. Maybe both.

Austin runs his hands along your arms, carefully, moving to tug your shirt over your head. You don’t protest, allowing him to set the fabric aside on the sink. You’re not looking in the mirror, but instead at your boyfriend’s face, and you can tell with the hardness like ice in the blue of his eyes and the tightness of his jaw that you must be beginning to bruise.

“Doesn’t hurt too bad,” You lie and Austin shakes his head, looking like he could hit that guy all over again.

Speaking of, you pick up one of his hands and run your thumb along the knuckles, pressing a kiss right above them. Nothing a warm washcloth won’t fix and then an icepack overnight. You have a feeling that his knuckles are the least of Austin’s concerns.

There are a few silent moments shared here, Austin picking up another washcloth and soaking it in cool water to ghost over the red marks on your arms and you decide a shower can come tomorrow, you just want to sleep. The whole late-night pizza thing kinda got derailed anyways and your stomach is in knots.

Putting lotion on afterwards, Austin brings you in one of his t-shirts to change into from the bedroom, lingering in a way that’s comforting. You change your clothes, taking your bra off and sliding the soft material of the shirt up and over your head. You swallow, pulling your hair out from underneath the fabric before rubbing the back of your neck.

“I just stood there.” You blurt out and his eyebrows draw together.

“Hmm?”

“Like I—” You shake your head, eyes flickering up to Austin’s, “I’ve taken self-defense classes and if you hadn’t been there,” Or had been five minutes later, “I just stood there.”

“Hey,” Austin’s voice is concerned and warm, reaching for you with it along with his hands, “It’s not your fault, alright?” A choked sound leaves your lips that sounds a little bit like a laugh because how can you not feel responsible for that? Even though deep down you know Austin’s right. Those classes are never quite like the real thing happening to you.

Austin breathes out, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. He runs his thumbs along your cheekbones, leaning down to press several kisses along your face—jawline, nose, forehead, cheeks, before pulling you close. His arms wrap around your shoulders, creating a cage against his body. You can’t help but close your eyes, breathing in the comforting scent you associate with him—sandalwood and something distinctly Austin.

“I got you,” He says against the shell of your ear, pressing another kiss directly below.

You nod your head, squeezing him, allowing yourself to slip into the warm safety of his embrace.

--

When nightmares visit you that night, and they’re worse than you can possibly imagine, Austin utters the same thing. You’re pulling at the sheets as you twist and turn, a small whimper leaving your lips as Austin wakes up and gently touches your side—

Jerking awake, you squirm away from his touch, breathing heavily in the dark, fingers dragging the sheets into your fists,

“Y/N, just a nightmare,” He murmurs, voice caked with sleep. There’s a distant feeling of guilt from waking him but right now you’re just trying to get your heartbeat to stop hammering in your ears. Running your hands over your face, you turn to face him, Austin’s hands running through your hair to pull it away from your skin.

“Just a nightmare.” Austin whispers, drawing you close with a squeeze of your hip.

Swallowing you nod, wiping underneath your right eye where one tear falls. You allow yourself to be drawn closer, fitting against his chest, under his chin. Your eyes fall closed with a sniffle, arm stretching around his slim waist and breathing him in, settling yourself.

“I got you.” He assures again, drawing circles into your back, breath warm along the shell of your ear. You memorize the calm pattern of his breathing, helping you with your own.

You believe him and it eventually lulls you back to sleep.

--

If ya’ll can’t tell by now, I ��really love writing hurt/comfort lmao hope you enjoyed! :) thanks for reading.

[glassgulls]

You deserve asks and questions too! I want to pick your brain for all your smartness and wonder

Tell me: what are your personal and most favorite Haldir hcs you have?

Hmm smartness and wonder may be not be the right terms for it but here goes! Very nervous about this. Buckle up for some Glassgulls bullshit.

✨Haldir headcannons✨

This mostly encompasses elves as well. But as I've discussed (obsessively rambled) at @heilith that elves can be laser focused, almost hyperfixate when they come across something or someone that provokes something in them. Possibly this is the teenage gothic romance buried deep in me, but I love the thought that these beings who live for such vast expanses of time could be prone to bouts of ennui. So when there happens to be someone or something that sparks that fire in them again they could become consumed by it. (Can you tell I used to read a lot of gothic vampire/horror?). Haldir I think when the right soul comes along would experience this too. Not to the detriment of his responsibilities as that is far too important to him, but in his own way would express this. The need to be in their presence, not clingy or hanging off his partner but just wanting to be near them. Beside them, or watching them in their professional element.

Haldir is more than a little feral. I say this with my own thought process that he and those who are on regular long patrols are away from the main society of elves. Periods of patrolling the wilds and sparsely populated areas I imagine would make anyone more than a little disconnected from the high social norms of polite society. More primal, and connected to the wild and roving expanses of nature. I don't think he is alone in this I feel like other Matchwardens/rangers are also under this vein. Aragon is a prime example of a wild, feral boi. Haldir is, literally, lifetimes ahead of Aragon on that front.

With the above in mind I think Haldir would be attracted to someone who has similar life experience. Possibly another ranger or another isolating job. That little wild, unbridled part of him finding another soul that understand even provoke that side of him? Yes please.

Haldir is reserved in the company or strangers and those not in his inner circle but I wouldn't ever think he would be intentionally mean or an asshole. Like I said, the guy's away from constant social interactions, he's just a little aloof. Probably much more noticeable after a longer patrol away.

These are just some off the top of my head, hopefully they don't induce utter rage in people. Characters are very personal to people so I completely understand there will be people who disagree with me. Thank you so much for the ask @creativity-of-death it was a lot of fun thinking on this. ♥️ I hope it was coherent. 🥴

Elf tagging: @elithilanor, @heilith, @sotwk, @wareagleofthemountain. If I do anymore and you would like tagged please let me know.

[princesschimchim1325]

at times just reading x readers in his tag i feel a little different from most other gepard enjoyers >_> i need to run him around like a rat in a maze before i date him... and during a little maybe idk i need to fuck with him and keep him up at night a bit . i need him to be thoroughly frustrated and a little desperate even. i am playing the long game. let that boy marinate. maybe i am just insane. also i get completely what you mean about him being more like artem than luke. he sort of has aspects of both that i find endearing where he's very dog coded and sees dying to protect you as a high honor but hes also doing that 'cold (emotionally constipated) but i care about you way more than i want to let on' thing for sure. he definitely seems like he does stuff for you behind your back. to me it is all the more reason i need to torture him just a little before we date. as cute as the chivalry thing is, ideally i think he needs to get out of his own head and not see his partner as a Thing To Serve And Protect for a relationship to actually work. hope that makes sense but im juzt rambling now so who knows

Tbh I feel the same 💀 like I basically form a new personality depending on what Im reading about him. Oh yeah, he has his work cut out for him of he wants to date genuinely sjsnksem

When I say he seems more like Artem than Luke, its bc they are both serious and work oriented men but are soft dom malewives in reality

He def needs the stimulation oof he deserves to have sex and then think about it for the rest of the week. Basically a game of cat and mouse. He deserves to think about us 24/7 and question his life, maybe he gets a lil desperate, just as a treat ;)

I want him so frustrated, both sexually and literally, that he just storms up to us and pulls us in a very passionate and desperate kiss and I'll leave it up to you what happens after 😏 ; ))

I like chivalry bc its basically dead irl but I get what u mean. He def needs to be chivalrous because he wants to, not bc he needs to.

[osleeplessflowero]

L.O.VE And Justice

a somewhat satirical bad sanses reader insert fic

Chapter Three: Skeleton In Your..House.

Ao3 Link < Fic Masterpost < Previous Chapter <

divider credit in tags, this one's a bit short but the next chapter will be long again

Content Warning: Violence

With a few tugs and pulls, you've managed to drag the skeleton's body all the way over to your couch, lying him down on some pillows. You're not going as far as to put a blanket over him, he doesn't deserve that luxury. 

Rain gently begins to hit the windows of your living room as you pace back and forth, holding your hand over your mouth as you think of what to do next. You've got an unconscious murderer in your house. You have no idea when his companions will be back for him, and how they'll handle the situation. You are currently at risk, he could wake up at any time and attack you, and your gem has a cooldown so you can't transform back yet. 

Taking a deep breath, you focus. First things first, you need to disarm him. He can still use bone attacks on you, but at least you can take his knife from him. You walk over, spotting the handle in his jacket pocket. How big are his pockets?? Enough to fit a whole knife in there, apparently. You pull the knife out carefully, making sure not to wake him..must be a heavy sleeper, because you're not great at it. Then again, you did hit him pretty hard.

You take a few steps back, looking at the knife. A thin layer of dust is visible over it, obviously monster dust..you send your apologies to who lost their lives being on the receiving end of it. Knife acquired..now, what should you do? You think a moment, before realizing your identity is ENTIRELY exposed! Running into your room, you quickly look for some sort of face covering..

"There's gotta be something in here- I can't let him know who I am." You think aloud, rummaging through your closet and throwing on a hoodie pulling it up over your head and grabbing an old mask from a costume party you went to, putting it over your face. At the very least you can still hide yourself for a while. 

You walk back into your living room, moving little objects around and lighting some candles to give the room the nice scent of vanilla. The sound of voices coming from the television is comforting background noise, a warm atmosphere. It reminds you of the days as a kid where you could sit with your family, making them watch whatever show was your favorite at the time. You smile fondly as you think of them, even if it saddens a bit when you think of the later half of your life.. 

Continuing to wander about the living room and tidy up the most random things as you ramble in your mind, you're completely unaware that the skeleton has woken up and is now silently watching you with his cheek resting on one of his palms. He's almost amused, seeing you fret over this and that. It reminds him of his late brother, in a way.. 

You pick up a box from the living room table and freeze the moment your covered eyes meet his empty eyesockets. He looks over you with a grin, seeming to be unfazed at the moment. 

"..So, you're awake." You say, sitting the box in a different spot. He hums in acknowledgement, lowering his arm so both of them drape over his legs. "I took your knife from you so good luck using that on me." 

"huh, most people don't think of that. eh, i don't really feel like fighting yet. tired." He yawns to prove his point, but he does it in a comical, almost exaggerated way. You cover your mouth as a smile tries to break out, turning towards the TV. 

"Sleep well?" You tease, putting a hand on your hip. He narrows his eyesockets in reply, earning a chuckle from you. 

"how'd you do that, anyway?" "What?"

If he had eyelights, they'd be rolling right now. "how did you knock me out so easily?"

"Well, I've memorized pressure points that can be hit to take someone down instantly. That's how." You turn on some fairy lights in the room, turning off the lamp so a faint glow is the only thing illuminating it. Killer observes you, thinking for a moment to himself. 

You managed to knock him out, yet..you didn't leave him there. You brought him into your home, despite knowing that's an insane safety risk. He could easily come back, yet you still brought him here anyway. Why? Why not just leave him at the train station for the others to come get him? Why risk your safety for a stranger you don't even know? He doesn't really understand. 

"I'm surprised your allies aren't breaking my door down to get you back." You say, interrupting his thoughts as you change the channel to a movie you like. He shifts his head a bit to the side, you can assume that's the equivalent of averting his eyes. 

"they're not..really worried, i'd say. they've probably assumed i'm still fighting you or something. ..it'll probably be a while before boss sends dust after me." "So, they're pretty confident in you?" "..i guess? i dunno. i don't really know how any of them feel about me- well, except horror. he makes his hatred of us pretty clear. oh, uh, horror's the big one."

"Ah." You reply, watering some plants sitting in the windowsill. 

"sooo i guess you're stuck with me for a while." He gives you a cheeky grin, earning an eye roll in response.  "Greeeat." You sit your watering can down as you reply, sitting down a very long distance from him. "Whatever, as long as you don't try to kill me I don't give a shit what you do." 

He chuckles, looking ahead at the TV. It's..been a while since he's last been in a cozy house like this. The decor is nice, the furniture is super soft and comfy to sleep on.. it makes him feel warm in a way, even though he technically isn't able to feel much warmth at all. Who'd have thought he'd find comfort in his opponent's home?

You open a box, taking out some chocolate hearts and biting into one. He glances over, a browbone raised. 

"special someone get you those?" He asks, intertwining his hands together and resting his chin above them.  "Huh? OH, uh, no. I bought them. The store's having a sale on Valentine's candy so I got as much as I could. ..I guess you can have some, if you want." You slide a box over, and he happily takes some. It's sweet.. 

There's..a comfortable silence. Huh, you didn't expect this. You'd expected a fight the moment he'd woken up, but..it's pretty chill, actually. You can't help but wonder why that is. 

"sooo..you do realize i know where you live now." "Yeah." "which means i could easily come back later."

You turn to him, raising a brow which moves the mask on your face up a little. "Why would you want to?"  "to mess with you, obviously." He replies, popping some more chocolate into his mouth and letting out a contented hum when he's satisfied. 

"Don't you have better things to do than that? Or are you that lonely?" You ask, a slightly teasing tone to your voice. 

He gasps, putting a hand over his chest. "ouch! the audacity.." He drops the dramatic act with a snicker, lowering his hand. "it's mostly boredom. like..if i'm not out doing whatever the fuck my boss wants me to, i get bored pretty fast. might as well spend my time doing something interesting."

"Is that why you were trying to kill that store owner? Boredom?" You ask, a tint of annoyance in your voice.  "pretty much. i would get snacks, and get to raise my LOVE. seems like a win-win for me." He shrugs.  "You're disgusting."  "better get used to it, sunshine."  "Stop calling me that-" You immediately counter, earning a grin in reply before the peace is interrupted by a sound outside. 

"what was that?" He tilts his head. You stand up, walking over to your front door, where you heard the noise from. You cautiously open the door, half expecting to see a skeleton there with a bone ready to stab you..but there isn't one. Instead, a small black cat sits in front of the door, a letter in its mouth. Upon seeing you, it sits the letter down on the ground and greets you with a "mew". 

There's a brief pause before you immediately reach down to pick up the cat. "Kitty! Oh my goodness, you're so cute, how'd you get all the way here silly?" Your voice immediately shifts to a playful one as you gush over the cat, gently petting its head and earning cat language in reply. 

You lean down, picking up the letter. A gold heart-shaped mark..you have a feeling you know who this is from. 

Opening the letter with care, you look at the words written in gold-colored ink and hold the cat close, shielding them from the rain as you enter your house. 

I trust that this letter has been properly delivered to you, and the cat has arrived at your doorstep unharmed. After observing your actions from my residence for quite some time, I've decided that having a companion may help you in continuing your heroic training. Having a little assistance is always helpful, isn't it?  You may name the cat as you wish, be sure to take good care of her. In return, she will be your most loyal companion. Do not let her fall into the wrong hands. 

- Sincerely, Your Friend

You smile, gently closing the letter and putting it in your hoodie pocket. 

"So..we're gonna be stuck together a while, huh?" You look at the cat, who promptly replies in her superior language, earning a giggle from you as you grab a towel from the kitchen to dry her off. Killer leans his head to try to snoop, but is unsuccessful, so he waits for you to return to the living room. Once you do, he stands up immediately and rushes over. 

"where did you get a cat?" He gently pets her head, smiling fondly as she turns towards him. 

"She was left at my doorstep. I guess she belongs to me now? It's kinda confusing, but..I don't mind having a cat. Cats are cute." You smile at her, before taking notice of Killer's behavior. For a murderer, he's really..gentle when it comes to cats. He must really like them. He gently takes her out of your hands while you're distracted, earning a sound from you in protest. 

"relax." Is all he says before sitting down, letting her rest on his lap. "Don't nap on the enemy!" You shout, sighing in defeat as you sit back down on the couch and taking some more chocolate for yourself. Betrayed by your new cat..heartbreaking. 

"boss doesn't let me keep my cat at the castle, so i don't get to see them much since i'm keeping them in another universe. i love these silly little guys. or, i guess i should say gals too, huh?" His voice is soft as he pets her head. Your eyes soften as you look over him. He must miss his cat a lot.. you can understand that. 

"Well..if you behave, you could spend time with her. ..I guess. Don't make me regret my decision." You avert your eyes, your focus now back on the tv. He looks over at you, a little surprised that you're okay with it. You're such a mystery.. he can't help but be a bit curious. Who are you? What are you like? Why is it that both times he's entered this universe you showed up and ruined his plans? ..Maybe he'll come back again. To mess with you, of course. 

He turns to ask you a question, when he sees that you've fallen asleep against the arm of the couch. The cat rises from his lap, walking over and lying at your side. He smiles a little, shaking his head. Not a good idea, letting your guard down around strangers.. but it's not like he's gonna do anything to you. 

He looks behind himself and grabs a blanket off of the back of the couch, laying it over you. ..He doesn't know where you hid his knife, and kinda needs it back in order to leave, so it looks like he'll be stuck here until the next morning..oh well. It's not like it's a bad place to be stuck in, the house is pretty nice. Plus, c'mon. There's a cat! He can handle this. 

He flips through the channels on the TV, watching one of his old favorite series. He'd always been a sucker for romance.. his mind begins to slip as he drifts off, leaning back into the couch and falling asleep where he sits. Some things never change..

He dreams of a happy memory. Being surrounded by everyone he cares about..without a care in the world. 

.

.

.

A good distance away, random objects begin disappearing left and right. Breaking off into bright white pixels, entering the sky..never to be seen again. 

[tinylittlelilac]

your fake event sounds amazing!! if you don’t mind me asking, could you share more about it?? the cards r super cool im dying to know the context

I DIDNT SEE THIS OMG THIS IS WHAT I MEAN WHHEN I SAY I CANT OPERATE TUMBLR IM VERY VERY SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO IGNORE THIS ASK!!

ANYWAYS THANK YOU I WOULD LOVE TO!! I can’t say there was TOO much thought out into it so this is gonna be a huge ramble that doesn’t make much sense but I will happily oblige ( ´▽｀) For the bloomed cards obviously they don’t have much to do with the story. I just wanted an artist/photographer set between them bc I think it’s a cute idea !!

I’ve wanted a fine ryuseitai event for the longest time bc Yuzuru’s friendship with ryuseitai never leaves my mind,, in jingle bells he says he had fun hanging out with them and he enjoyed the hero show in supernova :D basically I only care about the most niche and silly interactions in this game. the opposite of how it was meant to be enjoyed but it’s the secret to being filled with joyful glee. ANYWAYS I thought a variety show for the starpro idols that has unlimited potential by means of the Tenshouin fund could be fun. Yuzuru obviously doesn’t like a ton of attention and is just there to support Tori and get it done with (I mean. Maybe there’s like some kind of fighting/laser tag round he gets really into but for the most part he still sees himself as the least deserving of attention in fine and doesn’t make any scenes). However, in the starpro trivia section of the show, Midori keeps answering question after question right about yuzuru/fine (bc I feel like he might know that little trivia) which either picks up attention with the fans who question what is going on (if the show is live) or eichi + wataru notice and like to impose mischievous little plans on yuzuru. I think that either way through the powers of being in charge of the direction of the show those two get midoyuzu paired up for a ton of the games (I considered making one of the cards a pictionary game and ended up deciding against it but I still think it’d be silly). When drawing the last unbloomed, I had in mind them getting matched up for a lie detector game where they get to ask each other questions/the audience gets to send in questions. I didn’t think too much about what happened afterwards to be completely honest with you but it’d probably get yuzuru really flustered being 1. The center of attention 2. Target of whatever Midori wants to ask and 3. Having to actually be completely and utterly honest. And he’s just begging him to ask normal easy questions which midori obliges bc he doesn’t like all this attention either but then some crazy audience question comes in and then the rest is up to imagination bc I don’t want to end up mischaracterizing them or looking more delusional than I already have in this public post! but it would definitely end with them revealing/admitting something to each other that brings them closer together :>>

sorry to make you read all that but also the starpro variety show is all i ever want ,, PLUS it could be so much fun outside of my mdyz visions too. Imagine chiakana in teamwork minigames OR TRICKSTAR hokke calls them all idiots but he’s the one that keeps making them lose all the games. Alkaloid in literally anything. I think we should talk about this more

ok this is the first time my fanatical whimsical ass has wrote this much from my brain but I hope you see the vision! Thank you for letting me talk about it more!!!! :D

[pinkopalina]

how covid unsocialized me.

it's hard for me to even wax poetic about my experiences because I saw how little anything mattered. so many of us died and even more wrote it off like god was thinning the herd or like the most vulnerable of us getting picked off was deserved because of what the most brutal and uncaring of us did. it made me form a stark contrast between who I thought "us" was and who I realized "they" are.

it made it really hard for me to live day to day without ruminating about our systems and how unhappy I am playing pretend doing stupid shit to make money for people who proved to me that they don't care about me. why am I doing this? why do I have to participate ? how are the rest of you happy and complacent this way, but how dare I say that? in what way have I proven myself a pure saint of a paragon? I have sinned with my apathy.

now I'm so completely disillusioned with any attempt to care about anything because I watched in real time as everything shifted. as covid broke us and rebuilt us for THEIR convenience. yes being gay is okay, to sell you stuff. but we'll take your rights away. yes we care about work life balance... but only if our job controls our access to healthcare and we have to be there more than enough to warrant the work we do.

and it's not like it was great before! it's not like something amazing was ruined and I'm just mad at covid for fucking it up. it was bad and it was a matter of time before something sparked change, and I feel like that was supposed to be covid. if it wasn't that, it was gonna be something else. we had this whole opportunity to actually change and heal the earth and ourselves but we FUCKED THAT UP. we're STILL FUCKED UP YEARS LATER. how many more years of this am I going to witness and bear apathy to because I have no better choice???

it feels with so much bad shit compounding on top of each other, like an unhealthy mind, our unhealthy society ruminating on their problems and blaming each other instead of getting up to help has just left me defeated. the fight goes on and I am no soldier. it's every day. it's always feeling stupid for feeling hopeful and then feeling regret for overcorrecting with rage. I feel like my words are so foreign and long winded to people now that expressing myself, like trying to be saved during COVID, was useless. I legitimately have thoughts like "well at least people who are dead now don't have to worry about what a shit world it's becoming lol" but I can't even EXPRESS that I feel that way because Tumblr police in my head from 16 years of being on the only website that hasn't died yet -- but only has a MILLION rules you have to abide by unless you want a callout post and to develop borderline personality disorder -- will remind me that thoughtcrimes are actually that serious like just as bad as the real shit that is happening with the people with guns and money and power and law making abilities and you should be killed for them too. even though the war is bad. like, these rules don't make any fucking sense but I still have to abide by them.

and then I go into these huge metaphors and assumptions about life and it's echo chambering in my own brain and I actually feel like I turned into the joker. except I'm not even allowed to relate to that because everyone in the ship tag you follow to try to alleviate some of the symptoms of the rot on your mental health that is Daily Life has become an expert on how you should think about them too and they will also kill and ostracize you for having a headcanon that maybe onions have layers sometimes and then you're just better off rambling in every text post you ever make and then deleting it because everything you've ever said has gotten a decreasing amount of notes until it's become 0 and every single one of your artist friends has followers in the thousands but still wants your pity because hating ourselves is too addictive to ever trying to be positive about anything.

like man I am BITTER!!!!!! 🤪😂🙂‍↕️🤝🥰🥴🤪☺️

[tortoisesshells]

top five 1899 characters and/or top five scenes from 1899!

unfortunately, I cannot shut up about 1899. to save your dash, it's all under the cut. tl;dr: I fucking love Maura Franklin.

TOP 5 CHARACTERS: (1) Maura Franklin: she's unhinged. she's the only sane man. she's suffered more than jesus christ. she's caused everyone else to suffer more than she has (maybe). she'll never let go. she has to let go. she accidentally keeps committing adultery with the walking talking open wound masquerading as an authority figure. stealth pants. possibly understands far more than she ever lets on. The most character of all time.

(2) Eyk Larsen: so far past his breaking point that it's almost comic. who put this man in charge of a ship and 1500 souls? If 1899 is a story about grief, then he gets so many of the great character beats about it. He'd practically dead himself. He's going to drink himself into an early grave. A shell of a man with a single, half-deranged thread of hope. A man who was saved from inspiring the worst kind of dad issues in his daughters by their horrible and premature deaths. If his story on the Kerberos is completely disconnected from his reality (whatever that is) I think he should be allowed to commit murder.

(3) Ramiro: I don't know what I can say about him that you and others have not said more eloquently than I, but: a man who is destined to keep secrets - not only his own; a man who deserves rest but is not allowed to, either by his own moral compass or the intolerance of the world around him. everyone wants him as a confessor and confidante, but he struggles to find that for himself! he shines in the crisis, but you wish he didn't have to. I hope there's a version of reality where he and Ángel get to sit in the open sun and enjoy a quiet afternoon.

(4) Jérôme: local man forced to abandon perfectly good Count of Monte Cristo plot by supernatural vicissitudes and his own sense of rights and wrongs. I think he should get to get Lucien with the hammer. I think he and Clémence should ride off into the sunset together. I have no idea how he and Clémence got out of Ling Yi's memories, but I think something horrible and plot-relevant happened in there and I'm raging against the heavens that we'll never get to see the full scope of their escape into the boiler room. He doesn't seem to be running away from his past as much as the others, and sets aside his sprint towards rightful vengeance as soon as he sees the miseries of his past playing out again. I still don't know what I believe his original plan was - murder? simply throwing the medal back in Lucien's face? Did he know himself? G O D.

(5) Ling Yi: I, too, enjoy hiding in small spaces, though I'm more partial to handy closets than miscellaneous equipment lockers. She's isolated from her mother by the great secret they're carrying between them, from any common ability to connect to anyone else, from her own sense of self. It's understandable that she tends to expect the worst, all things taken together. If all this has happened before, how many times has she not been able to say goodbye, either to Mei Mei or to her mother? How long has she been staring the end, not of her physical life, but her life as Ling Yi, in the face?

TOP 5 SCENES: (1) "Have you ever lost someone? It's like you're dying with them. They can move on. You're stuck." I've rambled at length in the tags but: Eyk Larsen's whole life as Captain of the Kerberos is one great circle between Southampton and New York, over and over, without end. He cannot escape it. He cannot, except temporarily, escape his grief over the loss of his family and his failures as a husband and father to have done something. And yet (as we know) none of this is real, and all of this is Maura's doing - maybe. Maura, rightly, looks as though she's been gutted: this is her grief reflected back to her. She cannot move on, and because of it, they're all stuck.

(2) I am a giant sucker for well-done SFX, and the Kerberos descending through the maelstrom into the archive left me gasping. Ling Yi's - resignation? - to seeing the impossible spooling out in front of her, when she's lost the only other person on the ship who cared at all for what she thought makes spectacle into tragedy.

(3) The multiple-way conversation between Ángel and Ramiro and Eyk and Eugen about the survivors aboard the Prometheus having need of a priest in the first-class hallway: the multiple conversations being had at once, the switching between languages, the claustrophobic framing, that Ángel, who has not exactly shown himself to have much care for Ramiro's opinions thusfar, shows himself instead to be frightened and a little desperate to not rock the boat (sorry, couldn't resist) and still concerned for Ramiro's well-being as the masquerade seems to be getting out of hand. There's so much going on in such a little scene!

(4) Maura, wondering where everyone on the Prometheus went, immediately asking Eyk how hot the boilers run - skipping right over that it would be significantly easier, perhaps, to throw bodies overboard than cremate 1500 people. I love how your mind works, Miss Franklin. You're terrifying. (actually, the whole sequence of Maura and Eyk immediately deciding to lie to each other rather than converse is a delight. for a given value of delight.)

(5) The fight on the stern of the Kerberos at the end of the mutiny: the lighting! the drama! the spectacle! the realization that all is lost before the significantly worse realization - they are so far beyond the boundaries of the possible, and whatever controls this place is not operating by known rules! The many reunions mid-fight! Iben wins by being willing to murder a child!

[quitefair]

Fanfiction Writer Questions!

Was tagged by the very lovely @optiwashere some time ago, and I've only just had the chance to sit down and take a crack at this!

Not gonna tag anybody, but if you read this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged!

(Also this is talking about a lot of fics that I've written but not published because well... that's just how it's been lmao...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13 at the moment. I’ve deleted a few things that I’m not entirely proud of/works that I’m planning on rewriting and improving upon.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

26,031 (my WIP folder has almost 100k words, if we want any comparison)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly Dragon Age! Although AO3 is misleading… I’ve only got 7 fics on there for Dragon Age. But these don’t include the ones I’ve deleted and also the literal hundreds of WIP documents in my writing folder. It’s become quite a problem. I’ve also been writing for Baldur’s Gate 3 a bit more recently, but those fics are on hold because of lack of time/motivation/the fact I’ve not finished the game yet and want to do my research and understand characterisation and plot better.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. a lesson in grief (T-rated, Vi/Caitlyn from Arcane) 2. slip away (G-rated Gen-fic from Hades 2020) 3. Names (G-rated Fenris/Female Hawke from Dragon Age) 4. Anxious Grief (T-rated, Cassandra Pentaghast/Male Cadash from Dragon Age) 5. Fear and Forgiveness (G-rated, Dorian Pavus/Male Adaar from Dragon Age)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Every single comment I get is like fuel to my brain so I love and appreciate each one!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think I did toy around with a fic where I left Hawke in the Fade. The process of getting into Fenris’ headspace during that was way too painful for me to continue.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics tend towards happy endings, even if they pack a lot of angst in the body of em. Of the ones I’ve got published, I’d say Names.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t, but then again I post so rarely and sporadically so people forget I even exist huhu.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

… Yes… (and that’s all im gonna say)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I’ve not written crossovers per se, I’m more of an AU kinda guy. Though there’s definitely an ancient story I wrote back when I was like 13 that had like, every single bit of media I’d ever loved merged into one, and the excuse was that I’d just read His Dark Materials and wanted my own universe where everything I loved existed at once. COMPLETELY self-indulgent shit.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know…

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! At least not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again no… I’ve not done a lot of stuff huhu!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

It’s the one and only. The girls that live rent free in my head. The girls that deserve everything. (It’s Josephine Montilyet/my Inquisitor from Dragon Age Inquisition)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It’s the Dragon Age Inquisition rewrite I’ve been complaining about for the longest time. It’s become the pet project I keep poking at whenever I have the energy to. All my Tashak/Josephine fics are set within this, and honestly at this point, instead of making one large fic, I might as well just post the disjointed chapters separately even if they don’t make sense. I’ve got WIPs in the folder from 2016. It’s out of control.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’d like to think I’m good at descriptive writing, at drawing the reader into the scene and pulling them along with the story.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m so bad at dialogue it’s not even funny. Also, my writing can tend towards too much rambling – I guess that’s just because it’s the way my brain works.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

The only other language I’m fluent in is Malay, and I really can’t imagine myself writing in that unless in very specific circumstances.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Dang, I think it was probably for BIONICLE. Way back when I was like, in secondary school.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Published? Names. There’s stuff in there I still feel jealous of, even today. Unpublished – a bunch of stuff for Aforementioned Dragon Age Rewrite. I should really post stuff from there at some point LMAO…