#was supposed to post this on her birthday D:

[bxtonpxss]

Opacho is in a really good mood! She’s sporting a white backpack littered with red stars. There's a skip in her step as the toddler approaches with a bright smile shifting the pack around to show off her gift. “Look! Yoh-sama gave Opacho this for her birthday!” It's got all her essentials in it, crayons, colored pencils, and a coloring book.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3

[totheblood]

true blue. (one)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie has a new philosophy: don't fall in love and you won't get your heart broken. ellie also has a really cute new friend. ellie admires some birds in this chapter idk if thats significant

warnings: 18+ (as a general rule for this series and my blog as a whole) suggestive themes, eventual smut, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: i am hoping to make this a series if enough people like it and want me too... i really appreciate support and feedback through asks and replies/reblogs, it all means so much to me. also i have this whole thing planned out and i plan for it to be very messy hehe... i love drama idk

This year was going to be different.

At least that’s what Ellie told herself as she gripped the straps of her worn out backpack. All of the classes her and Cat had planned to take together this semester she had quickly transferred out of by the end of the summer, causing her to rack up an impressive list of classes on her schedule nobody wanted to take. 

“Fuck,” Ellie cursed under her breath as she rushed towards the building her literature seminar was in. “I’m going to be so late.” She was practically cursing herself for waking up so late that morning, her bed seeming much more welcoming than the professor who had 1 star on ‘rate my professors.’ She knew she had fucked up, but at this moment she didn’t really care.

As she made her way down the chestnut lined hallway, she frantically checked the door numbers on each door, cursing each time the door number didn’t align with the one she was supposed to be in. When she did find her classroom at the end of the hallway, she had to steady herself with a few deep breaths before entering. Throughout all of this, however, one thought rang clear through her mind: Fuck Cat.

Ellie never really liked to refer to herself as heartbroken, but that was the nicest way she could put the state that Cat had left her in. Ellie always knew she liked girls and while she had many crushes, and a few kisses, Cat was her first real girlfriend. She was the first person to hold Ellie’s hand in public, post lame birthday posts on Instagram, and the first person to give her an orgasm. But if she was being really honest with herself, her first orgasm belonged to her own hand.

Cat had served as a turning point in Ellie’s life and up until this point she was almost certain  that she had been in love with her. Almost. There was always this sinking feeling that whatever feelings she had for the girl was most likely orchestrated by pure hormones. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that made her feel that way, but there always seemed to be something missing from their relationship. 

Little to Ellie’s knowledge, however, was that was just who Cat was. She made you feel like you were on top of the world, the only person in the universe who could cure her ills, and the only person who got her. She made you feel special, and at the time, that was exactly what Ellie was craving. She needed a person who looked at her like she aligned the stars, and that person was Cat.

Until it wasn’t. Quickly towards the end of the summer Cat got bored and all of the love notes Ellie had written her were quickly discarded within an hour of reading them. She continued to pull away until there was no trace of her left in Ellie’s life. To make matters worse, she broke up with Ellie over text, leaving her dazed and confused. There was nothing left for her to do except to run to Dina’s house and cry in her lap. She hated how pathetic she looked as Dina stroked her hair and shooed Jeese off with the flick of her hand. It was safe to say Ellie was completely over relationships.

Fuck Cat, she thought again, but decided that it being a thought wasn’t enough.

E: Fuck Cat.

D: yea fuck that bitch

Deciding that the text had done enough to calm her nerves, she pushed through the threshold into the classroom. She must’ve not realized how intimate of a class this was when she signed up for it because as she entered all ten of the people in the room now locked eyes with her, and the old man sitting at the front of the table threw her a disappointed look.

“Ellie Williams, I presume?” he questioned, looking at his roster in front of him.

“You do presume.” She awkwardly answered, only receiving a chuckle from a girl sitting at the far end of the table. Ellie looked up to see who it was that laughed at her poorly timed joke but just saw you trying to hide the smile on your face by pretending to write notes.

“You can sit at any open seat, I was just discussing the syllabus.” He told her, his tone sharp. 

“Okay, thanks.” Ellie mumbled under her breath, moving to sit at the open seat next to you considering you seemed like you might be the friendliest person in this room. She quickly moved to get her notebook out but internally cursed herself out for the fifth time that day because she completely forgot her pencil case in her dorm. She decided to save herself the embarrassment of asking if anyone had a pen, so she just continued to ruffle through her bag even though she knew it wasn’t there.

“You looking for something?” you leaned over to whisper to her, still causing her to jump back slightly.

“Yea, a pen?” She whispered back, laughing under her breath to pretend like she wasn’t completely embarrassed right now.

“Here.” A black pen balanced in between your fingers as you offered it to her. She sheepishly thanked you before taking it, making sure your fingers didn’t touch. 

“There will be one main assignment in this class as you can see on the syllabus.” Ellie, obviously not in her element, looked around at all the packets each person was holding. As if you could sense the nerves on her, you shoved your packet in between the both of you, pointing to the assignment the professor was discussing. 

“It is a partner based project and since there are only ten of you I hope this won’t be an issue.” He continued on. “And as you can see it is worth 60% of your grade.” Fuck this, Ellie thought to herself yet again, and fuck Cat too, she added for good measure.

The rest of the 90 minute class went as well as you could imagine, Ellie only having to stop herself from falling asleep three times. When the class was over and she began to collect her things Ellie looked over to where you were stuffing your laptop into your backpack. 

“Hey,” she managed to get out, her fingers fidgeting with her rings. “Would you want to be partners for the project?” 

You let out a breath of relief smiling both to her and yourself. “I would love that actually.” 

“Ok, good.” Ellie chuckled to herself about how nervous she was over something so small “I thought you might’ve thought I was like super unprepared or something since I was late and the pen.” Her eyes widened the pen. “Oh shit, your pen.” Ellie moved to take her backpack off and give back your pen but you abruptly stopped her by placing your hand on her forearm. Your hand right over the very spot Cat had tattooed. 

“Keep it,” you offered her a genuine smile before handing your phone over to her “and put your number in here.” 

Ellie may not have noticed it but she blushed. A part of her knew you were just being kind and you needed her number to work on the project but if this was any other setting this would be considered flirting. Ellie nervously took your phone in her hand and inserted her number and name with a little planet emoji next to it. When she handed the phone back to you she scanned your face for a reaction, smiling to herself when she saw your very own smile. 

“Ellie,” you looked back up at her “nice name.” All Ellie could do was let the tips of her ears turn red as she thanked you. When you offered her your own name and she repeated it back to you, she liked the way it felt on her tongue. She wondered what you wou- No, she wasn’t doing this again.

“I’ll text you tonight about getting started.” You informed her, now slinging your own bag over your shoulder.

“Looking forward to it.” She stated simply, her own feet planted to the floor.

“I presume you are.” You replied with a giggle before turning around and leaving Ellie feeling fuzzy.

Fuck.

The rest of Ellie’s day was uneventful to say the least. She saw a few birds eating a sandwich and thought it was cute, but besides that (and you), her day was boring. She was hoping that this year would be different, that she would be miles ahead of where she was when she met Cat, but she knew she was just worse. She wanted anything, a rebound, a distraction to pull her mind off Cat but all she could do was stare at her ceiling and try not to cry. Or that’s what she was doing until her phone buzzed from it’s place on her stomach.

Y: hey, it’s me

E: Who's me?

Y: pen dealer, duh

E: I thought dealers were supposed to be more discreet.

Y: you know a lot about dealers?

E: I’ve seen a few movies.

Y: nothing is like the movies, be fr

Y: anyways, do you want to meet up to discuss the project tomorrow? we could meet at beans?

E: Yeah, sure. 10?

Y: sounds good, bring cash

E: For? I use apple pay.

Y: for the pens… it was a joke nvm

E: Dumb joke.

The next morning Ellie had to drag herself out of bed so she wouldn’t be late to meet you. She groaned as she watched her roommate sleeping peacefully in her bed while she so desperately wished it could be her. For some reason that she couldn’t place, Ellie found herself smoothing down her hair and checking her teeth in the mirror. She even sprayed some perfume before she left, coughing as she accidentally inhaled some of the liquid. Why was she doing this again?

She saw you through the window of the coffee shop, leaned over your computer screen lost in thought. You tucked your pen between your lips and Ellie couldn’t help but feel like a freak staring at you from the other side. You looked so at peace with your hair tied up and your eyes carefully scanning the screen. Ellie wondered what it would feel like to not have a million things going through your mind at once. 

When she approached you she made a mental note of how your eyes lit up when you saw her. You had known her for a second and you had already looked at her with more adoration that Cat did towards the end of their relationship. 

“Hey, customer.” You joked, as you watched Ellie sit down across from you. 

“You don’t know how to let a joke die, do you?” She questioned jokingly, a warm feeling in both her face and her chest.

“I do not.” You said matter of factly.

The two of you discussed the project, throwing in occasional conversation and jokes when the material got too daunting. After about an hour had passed and the two of you were already feeling burnt out, Ellie suggested you take a walk around campus to “get some fresh air” and “clear your heads.” In reality, she was already growing tired of this project and just wanted to hear your voice ramble on about something other than American Literature.

It was a cool day, and the slight breeze caused both you and Ellie to squint the entire time. There was something so calm about the energy between the two of you. It wasn’t passionate or overwhelming like it was with Cat, but comforting. It was lulling Ellie into a sense of security, but she knew it couldn’t last long. 

“Where are you from?” Ellie spoke up. “Did you grow up around here?”

“Close-ish, I guess.” You answered. “I’m from a town north called Star Valley.” 

“Oh shit, you’re right by Jackson.” Ellie exclaimed. 

“Yea, you’re from Jackson?” The idea that you too lived this close and this was your first time meeting almost seemed criminal to Ellie.

“Yeah, me and my friends grew up there. I’m originally from Boston, though, I moved there with my..” You gave her time to speak, it being painfully obvious she was going to have trouble explaining the situation. “Like my dad? He’s not really my dad, he’s just Joel.” She decided to dumb down her complicated relationship with him for the sake of time. You, however, did not try to get any information out of her, or immediately try to get her to be vulnerable with her like Cat did at the beginning of the relationship. You just smiled at her and continued on with the conversation. 

Ellie liked this. She liked being able to have a conversation with a pretty girl that didn’t make her feel like she was tearing herself open just to bond with you. You two were just bonding in the simplest way people could. The sick and sinister part of her, however, was telling her to leave immediately. To avoid the trouble that another heartbreak would bring her. 

That part of her was starting to win over slowly as she remembered the promise she made to herself. She quickly excused herself and told you she would text you about meeting up again to work on the project. Her brain was telling her run, run, run, but she could tell you were still standing there staring as she walked away towards the direction of her building. 

Later that night, after a cool shower and a few hits of her pen, Ellie found herself ranting to Dina over text again.

E: I’m so fucked.

D: what???

E: I’m working with this really hot girl on a project for one of my classes and today we were walking together and it all seemed normal, like toooo normal, so I left. Like I no joke was like “Bye” mid conversation and LEFT HER THERE. What is wrong with me?

D: what happened to ‘i’m never talking to another girl again’?

E: I’m not.

D: …

E: I’M NOT.

E: IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER SHE PROBABLY THINKS I’M A FREAK FOR RUNNING AWAY TODAY

D: true

E: ?????

D: idk why you would do that so i’m not going to lie to you

D: i would think you are a freak

E: Ok, fuck you.

D: what does she look like?

E: Hot. 

D: oh yes thank you for painting such a vivid picture

D: SEND A PICTURE YOU FREAK

E: You are so mean to me.

Ellie felt the need for validation so she did what any normal person would in that situation: she went to instagram and typed in your full name. To her surprise, there you were, smiling as bright as the sun in your profile picture. Ellie suddenly felt like a kid again scanning through your photos, blushing and smiling to herself as she looked at you, losing focus of her original motive. She didn’t realize how far she had scrolled down until she was stopped by the sight of a familiar face. In a post dated over a year ago it was you kissing another girl. 

And that girl was Cat.

[vanishingcherry]

Hello !! I hope you're having a good day!

Can I please request a Daniel Ricciardo X Reader Instagram thing, but can it be platonic??

Like just imagine being childhood besties with him, and now you work with him as his Assisstant or something, getting to travel all over the world together!! And the chaos that the friendship would have too :D

Also the face claim can be the one requested from the Lando thing? I don't remember her @, but the face claim was so so pretty 💕💕

Tysm :)))

here you go! its set in 2022, and there is slight romantic lando x reader. hope thats okay with you!

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, landonorris and 94,857 others.

daniel3.jpg Smileys

view all 1,295 comments

f1fan isnt that the girl that lando is dating?

↳ dannyfan yess! shes childhood best friends with daniel, and is his assistant, thats how her and lando met

↳ f1fan ohh okk thanks!

landonorris whose the girl in the fourth picture?

↳ yourusername idk shes kinda hot

↳ danielricciardo @.landonorris stay away from my bestie

mclaren 🧡

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, yourbff and 39,857 others

yourusername te amo sao paulo

view all 987 comments

prettyyn SAO PAULO IS LUCKY TO HAVE Y/N

danielricciardo you're supposed to be assisting me. not posting on instagram

↳ yourusername you're supposed to be driving. not commenting on my instagram

yourfan oh to be y/n

danielismylove its the way she was best friends with daniel and now this is her life. why wasn't i best friends with a f1 driver

landonorris pretty girl

↳ liked by yourusername

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 143,587 others

danielricciardo when @.yourusername gets lost in london and you have to spend 3 hours searching for her

comments on this post are limited

yourusername i didnt get lost. i was just exploring

↳ danielricciardo why did i get multiple calls from you explaining that your gps wasnt working and that i had to come find you

↳ yourusername i wanted you to join me and be the boots to my dora

yourbff you promised you wouldnt lose her. next time this happens im taking her back

↳ danielricciardo HOW IS THIS MY FAULT

↳ yourusername @.yourbff is right. this is all your fault how could you let me go exploring on my own

↳ landonorris YOU LET HER GET LOST?

↳ danielricciardo i give up

liked by f1, mclaren, lando norris and 823,475 others

yourusername a series of events that occurred the day daniel found out that lando and i were dating. he claims it was an accident.

view all 4,756 comments

danielricciardo i don't like what youre insinuating

↳ yourusername its not my fault im right

↳ danielricciardo YOU CANT BE MY ASSISTANT AND HIS GIRLFRIEND AT THE SAME TIME

↳ yourusername watch me

ynfan I DIDNT REALISE THAT THATS WHEN DANIEL FOUND OUT THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

ilovedaniel im obsessed

landonorris my nose hurt so much that day mate

↳ danielricciardo you deserved it

landofan1 OH MY GOD LANDO'S FACE LMAO

liked by danielricciardo, f1, mclaren and 208,159 others

yourusername ive known you for as long as i can remember, and you've always been the best friend anyone could ask for. from the moment you let me try out your go kart till the moment you won your first grand prix, its been an honour to support you. the opportunity to travel the world with your best friend doesn't come along everyday, and ive never been more grateful.

i'm not very good at being sentimental, but for what its worth, you have all the love in my heart. happy birthday danny.

on a more serious note, he wet the bed till he was 10, pass it on.

comments on this post are limited

danielricciardo thank you ❤️

danielricciardo you were gonna make me cry until i saw that that last line. for everyone reading this, y/n had (has) the biggest crush on seb.

↳ yourusername dammit. and thats a lie, do not believe him.

↳ landonorris babe... seb? really?

[abbysbasement]

ABBY ANDERSON NSFW ALPHABET

AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5

content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):

reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’

MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY

word count: 5.4k (oof.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-

nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :(( feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.

of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.

sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.

in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.

she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”

loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times, like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say, that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.

but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.

but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.

"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."

":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."

"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"

under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!

sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.

“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”

she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.

after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.

...it’s going to be a long session.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.

abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)

one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.

when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.

[agentsofmarvel]

i read some of the marvel cinematic universe guidebook that includes agents of shield seasons 1-4 and both seasons of agent carter, so i though i would share some fun facts i found through reading. i see y'all like my fun fact posts, and i like making them, so i decided to make another one :)

fitz and simmons were sci-tech class of 2004.

According to the Guidebook, fitz was 16 when he met Simmons who was 18 at sci-tech. I feel like this is wrong?? I didn’t think they had a two-year gap I honestly thought they were born the same year.

Skye was dropped off at st. Agnes on April 23, 1989, which the nuns used as her birthday. 

Sousa must be obsessed with horses, horse races, or just betting in general. He is seen betting (or trying to bet) on horse races in BOTH seasons of Agent Carter and in season 2 has a horse figurine on his desk.

Sousa was born in Twin Falls, Idaho but grew up in Brooklyn (he was in the Brooklyn Boy Scouts ofc).

Maybe they had a horse farm in Idaho? That could be why he likes horses. this point is just me speculating, the guidebook said nothing about him growing up.

Hunter calls Daisy and Lincoln “Shake and Bake” (I knew this before, but i honestly find this so funny so I included it)

According to the Guidebook of the MCU, Lincoln was “apparently” k*lled alongside Hive. girl why apparently….like was he supposed to make a return somehow???

Hunter’s dad was a police officer from Kent, England.

The only person Mack said was allowed to call him “Alphie” was his mom, but his brother called him the nickname throughout childhood to tease him.

Mack also tried to sell his brother to a roadside stand when they were kids. 

May scouted Bobbi at the academy & said that she was the strongest recruit she’d ever seen. 

In the comics, Daisy dated James, known as Hellfire. He appears in s4 but they do not have any feelings toward each other (thank goodness that didn’t happen)

The fact sheet for s4 Fitz says "When nervous, Fitz's eyes bug out" and it made me laugh

Mack has a special insurance policy in case of "d**th by robot"

that's everything i personally found/wanted to include !! sorry i didn't include much agent carter :/ but thank you all for your support on these posts :)

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

ToA Theory 1 - Apollo's Waking Visions

First official theory post, here we go! :D

Alright. So. After rereading The Dark Prophecy, I started wondering about something. In TDP, Apollo experiences waking visions, where he conks out for a bit and has prophetic visions.

I found this interesting because, well...isn't Apollo supposed to be cut off from prophecy? With Python back in control of Delphi?

Because think about it. Python controls Delphi, the root of all earthly prophecy. This would include Dodona, Trophonius, Herophile, and Sibyl - sure, they aren't strictly connected to Delphi, but it's pretty heavily stated that Delphi just straight-up Makes The Future. It's prophecies are The Big Deal and you Should Listen.

Meanwhile the other Oracles seem more guiding and "beware!" instead of "this is how it's gonna be".

(sidenote: found out there are MORE oracles and I wanna know WHERE THEY ARE IN RRVERSE CANON because I want my boy Branchus okay??? Okay. Branchus's oracle was second only to Delphi let's give Apollo's first boyfriend the attention he deserves!)

So of course, like all great members of this fandom, I started thinking.

Let's do a little family history first. ;)

Buckle up. We go down a deep rabbit hole 😎

Apollo and Artemis are twins, born to Leto and Zeus. Zeus's parents are Kronos and Rhea. Leto's are Koios and Phoebe.

Rhea has connections to Dodona, as we learn in-series, but she doesn't really seem to be all that involved with prophecy.

Her siblings, meanwhile...ho ho ho, they are a WHOLE NOTHER STORY!

Let's start with Phoebe. Phoebe, like all first generation Titans, is the daughter of Gaea and Ouranos. She married her brother Koios. Her children consist of Asteria, Lelantos, and Leto. As well as Artemis and Apollo, her other two grandchildren are Hecate (Asteria) and Aura (Lelantos).

Her name means "bright" and is the root of Apollo's most famous epithet - Phoebus. She is often described as "golden-crowned" and is the Titan of bright intellect, the overseer of Earthly Prophecies, and is the second guardian of Delphi, after her sister Themis. She gifted Delphi to Apollo for his birthday after he defeated Python.

Classic grandmother move.

Anyway. There's a bit of Phoebe lore. Time for her elusive husband :3

Koios. His names means "question" or "questioning", probably because he's the Titan of inquiring intellect. He's also the overseer of Heavenly Prophecies, and has an oracle up in the North Pole guarded by an earth-dragon - you'd know this serpent by the name of Draco, the constellation btw. Additionally, Hyperborea (where Apollo goes in the winter times) is part of his domain.

eyes

Unfortunately, we have very little mythological lore on these two, and even less in the RRverse (I cling to that one (1) Koios scene) which sucks because I love them already BUT it does give me lots of legroom to mess around with canon >:)

Back to the theory now. As you may have guessed, I'll be taking us in a direction concerning Apollo's mysterious grandparents. But what does this have to do with Apollo's visions?

Well. Remember when I mentioned that Delphi is the root of all earthly prophecies?

...look at Phoebe's paragraphs. She's the overseer of Earthly Prophecies, right? So it makes sense she's been affected by Python's takeover too.

(if you've read my fics you'd know this already lmao)

Asteria, Apollo's aunt, is a little trickier. She, too, has a hand in divination, but mainly through the night/stars and dreams. <-will come back to that later.

Koios, again, is overseer of Heavenly Prophecies, and is heavily implied to be able to commune with Ouranos's spirit. This is, apparently, a Big Deal because nobody else is mentioned to be able to do this.

...Except...remember this throwaway line in The Hidden Oracle?

^Apollo can see Ouranos too.

Within this theory is a sub-theory, so to speak - that immortals with the gift of prophecy can see Ouranos, since they can see what cannot be seen. This would include Phoebe, Asteria, Koios, and Apollo.

And it'll make sense why they'd keep it to themselves. Kronos wouldn't have been happy to hear his dad was still around. Neither would Zeus, for that matter.

So here I was. Contemplating. Wrote a few fics based around this idea. And one in particular got me thinking (fic in question being When The Stars Align), and a little ways down the road I realized something.

If Phoebe, the overseer of Earthly Prophecies, would have been affected by Python's takeover...was Koios? Could he even be affected?

Because here's the deal: Koios is the overseer of Heavenly Prophecies. Prophecies from the Sky.

Phoebe's are of the Earth - the Earth that Python has taken control of. And Delphi is the root of Earthly Prophecies - not Heavenly.

That would be Koios's oracle, up in the North Pole with Draco.

...So that means Heavenly Prophecy must have still been in business during ToA.

But then comes the question: If it was still within the gods' control, why didn't they use it?

Well...Draco's there, for one. He's probably the Python-equivalent of the North, and clearly he's still there since no myth has spoken of his death (that I know of).

If you ask me, I just think the gods are too nervous/afraid to try Koios's oracle. They were too scared to face Python, after all, until Apollo arrived. I think they'd be scared of a serpent who comes and goes from the stars as he pleases.

And as for why Apollo hasn't done anything about it...well, I think his fight with Python left him rather scarred, don't you think? He probably went "yeah grandma's oracle is enough" and the only time he ever got close to Koios's was during his time in Hyperborea.

So getting back to the main theory now. (So many rabbit holes to dive into with this post. The ADHD Urge is real)

Since Heavenly Prophecies is still active, but Earthly is in Python's control, I conclude Apollo's visions come from the Heavenly source.

Could they have come from the now-working Dodona? Maybe. But Dodona's all about those windchimes and trees. It doesn't have the Vibe, so to speak, for granting visions.

And remember. Trophonius, Herophile, and Sibyl aren't destroyed/freed yet. They have Zero connection to Apollo at this point because Python cut him off from them.

...but he didn't from the North. From Koios's divine power.

Because remember. Apollo is the god of prophecy.

Not of Earthly Prophecies, like Phoebe.

Not of Heavenly Prophecies, like Koios.

Not of nighttime divination and dreams like Asteria.

Of. Prophecy.

Prophecy as a whole. The entirety. The whole enchilada.

Every part of prophecy he's the god of, be it tarot cards to the Oracle of Delphi itself.

In my opinion, I think whatever Koios's Oracle is, it has just as must power as Delphi. The only problem was that...everybody just left it be. Nobody considered it because:

1) scary dragon

2) scary titan ruled the place

3) honestly at this point I think it's just straight-up forgotten about. Like Branchus's Oracle. I think at one point Apollo himself mentions there are other Oracles besides the ones in-series, but there's so many that his mortal brain cannot comprehend how many.

If the Grove of Dodona nearly faded into obscurity, then I think it's entirely possible Koios's Oracle was forgotten about (or so we think...I'm gonna be chewing on this for a while.)

Coming back round to TDP...I think this is a reasonable explanation about Apollo's visions. To summarize:

Apollo is cut off from Earthly Prophecy, his usual source of foresight that he gets from Phoebe

The unused, near-forgotten-about Heavenly Prophecy side of Apollo ignites to steer him on the right path

This is possible because Apollo is the god of prophecy itself, and not a single subset of prophecy, so he's not limited in the same way Phoebe is

Koios's Oracle is still out there and kicking and I will die on this hill

One problem. What about Asteria? She can interpret the future from the stars...aka the Sky. Like Koios. So couldn't she provide some insight to the future, since she, too, is connected to Heavenly Prophecy?

This is where things get a lil' tricky. And where I really slap on my tinfoil hat and start headcanoning my way through lmao

Basically, I think that since Asteria became the island of Delos (long story) a good chunk of her power is ingrained there. She's not as strong as she used to be, so her foresight isn't as strong.

This, in turn, I think could also serve as a reason why Koios's Oracle is "asleep" so to speak and nearly lost to memory in the RRverse - in fact, I think Asteria and Phoebe are the only ones who bother to remember its existence.

And Leto, of course. But I don't think she wants her son to know of another Oracle with a giant snake guarding it. She's had enough heart-attacks, thank you.

(Same with Lelantos, tbh.)

Canon is my sandbox and I am making some sweet sandcastles out of it XD

TL;DR

Apollo's visions in TDP stem from Koios's source of Heaven Prophecy because Phoebe's source of Earthly Prophecy (Delphi) has been taken over by Python. Koios's source firmly knocks on Apollo's mental doors and decides to kick back into gear to help its titular patron's grandson out. Because Apollo is the god of prophecy itself - every bit of it.

Extras:

I find it fascinating how magic and prophecy are both part of the same family tree (Hecate & Apollo).

and yes. You should expect a fic concerning Koios's Oracle at some point. but no promises on when :3

Thank you for coming to Insane Theory Time With Alder. I hope there will be more lmao

Websites you can look into:

Koios (Theoi)

Phoebe (Theoi)

Hyperborea (Theoi)

[theotherbuckley]

WIP Wednesday 💜

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone 💗 I have an exam later today and then it’s my birthday tomorrow heh anyway here’s some healing fic and guess what! Buck is actually healing :D

TW: mentions of SH scars

Bobby knocks on the door again. “I’m starting dinner now. It will be ready in about an hour, okay?”

Buck doesn’t say anything.

“Buck?” He hears again. Fuck, Bobby thinks something’s happened to him, he’s so stupid he should just respond. Just say okay.

“Buck, are you okay in there?”

He puts on his short-sleeve shirt and opens the door. “I—I’ll help. If you—If you want.” If you still want me here. If you can look at me after this.

Bobby stands frozen, surprise written on his face. And then he smiles. There are tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling nonetheless. He draws Buck into his arms and gives him the biggest hug.

He knows how he looks — arms battered and beaten with a blade and his own mind as the weapon. It’s not a pretty sight. Yet here is Bobby, holding him like he might disappear if he lets go, loving him in spite of his flaws.

This is all Buck ever wanted. To be loved anyway.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Athena says before joining in and wrapping her arms around Buck.

He has a family.

He is not alone.

Maybe, maybe he can get through this.

When they break apart, tears streaming down all of their faces, Bobby says “I’d love some help.” And that’s that.

He helps with dinner the best he can. Bobby doesn’t let him use the knives, which he understands to an extent, but also, he’d never do that in front of them, he wouldn’t subject them to that. Regardless, he helps add the spices, get some herbs from the garden, and dress the salad. He still feels better than he has in weeks, even with Bobby looking at him every 5 seconds like he’s checking he’s still there. It’s nice to know that someone cares enough to check.

“We love you so much,” Athena says at one point. “I just want to remind you. We love you no matter what.”

Buck looks at her, with glistening eyes, and says, “I love you, too. Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else he can say to convey just how grateful he is for their existence. For taking him in and loving him even when he’s at his worst. For loving him like he’s theirs. Which he is, he supposes, they’re family afterall.

Tagging the usual moots <3 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @evanbegins @diazsdimples @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark  @underwater-ninja-13 @daffi-990 @fionaswhvre @aspecbuddie @lover-of-mine @nmcggg @tizniz @monsterrae1 @smilingbuckley @buckaroosheart @hippolotamus @incorrect9-1-1 @buckdefencesquad @actualalligator let me know if you’d like to be added or removed <3

(Edit: i accidentally posted this at 12am Wednesday instead of 12pm ajidksksk my bad guys)

[yasmimkilleruwu]

your headcanons about toby? :D

Some hcs about Toby ^^

Connie, Lyra and Toby wore a matching lanyard, they each had one, but Toby ended up losing his and ended up without it, he actually looked everywhere but couldn't find it, after Lyra's death Toby's mother gave it to him Lyra's necklace for Toby, so he would always remember her and have her close by.

Under no circumstances touch Toby's cord.

He tried to take his own life several times, but Slenderman didn't allow him to do so, but Slenderman doesn't stop him from hurting himself.

Eyeless Jack helps Toby stop cutting himself, he knows how many and where each scar is, so when Toby gets a new cut, he tries to prevent Jack from touching it.

He lived in the mansion, but after a while he started living in a cabin with the Heartless and the X-Virus.

Toby goes days without sleeping, so X-Virus, Heartless, Kate and Eyeless Jack try to make him sleep more, because even though he doesn't have missions, he can't sleep.

Toby was a little homophobic because of his father's influence, but Lyra told him that he shouldn't listen to their father, as it was a bad thought, so he didn't care so much, but his father ended up contaminating it a little his head.

Because of Toby's father's influence, Toby suppressed his feelings for Eyeless Jack and ignored Eyeless Jack for a long time, only going to Eyeless Jack if he really had to, but that didn't last long.

After Toby's father's influence passed, Toby started to wear more extravagant clothes, but he only wears this type of clothes sometimes, he started to accept the clothing suggestions that Nina suggested for him. {Jack liked this change .}

He convinced Eyeless Jack to wear more extravagant and elegant clothes too, as he wanted Eyeless Jack to wear clothes that showed off his body more.

Also influenced by his father, Toby repressed all the feelings he had, his father scolded him when he was crying, saying he was weak and several other things.

Toby is the type of person who forgets everything he's supposed to do, but Eyeless Jack is almost always there to remind Toby of everything.

He gets distracted very easily, so Kate or Hoodie give him missions separately from the other proxies, so they can explain everything so he doesn't get distracted by others.

He used to bring hidden animals to the mansion, so he could have some kind of company, but he stopped when he saw that Slenderman killed them all.

He and the X-Virus are afraid of spiders, this fear got worse when the Heartless caught their attention saying that she had something to show, and when she opened her mouth a spider came out of her mouth.

He's very flexible, he does a lot of crazy poses and of course he doesn't mind as he doesn't feel pain.

It is very common for blood to come out of his nose, as he is almost always stressed.

Sometimes he hurt himself on purpose just to see Jack, because there was a time when he could only see Jack if he was hurt.

Toby's favorite birthday was when, in the afternoon, he had a big party thrown by his closest friends and in the evening Eyeless Jack made a big dinner for the two of them, he received several gifts that day.

He hates being called Ticci, he doesn't know himself or actually doesn't remember why, but he really hates being called that.

Toby is one of the most agile and fast proxies, he is very dangerous if you really irritate him.

He is demiromantic and pansexual. {He is also asexual, but he still feels sexual attraction, but very little.}

{I have several hcs about him, I already said some in another post I made talking about him and Eyeless Jack.}

{And I'm sorry for any writing errors.}

[raindduks]

earned it

p a i r i n g :: toji x reader

g e n r e :: smut, pwp, afab reader

w a r n i n g s :: slight primal play, slight dub-con, being robbed, mentions of gun violence, minimal police, toji likes to bite

s u m m a r y :: It was supposed to be a normal day. A normal day, with a normal, boring trip to the bank.

How the hell did you end up in the back of a bank robbers car with his head between your thighs?

w o r d  c o u n t :: 5.2k

a / n :: cross posted on ao3, ive never written smut before so please go easy on me. if you've seen a fic similar to this, a friend and i used the same idea to create two fics (tho i think hers is only on ao3).

m i n o r s d n i

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

You were just supposed to grab some money from the bank to pay a couple bills, head home, maybe grab yourself an iced coffee on the way back. Work a bit. Shower? Hell, maybe you’d finally open that nice bottle of Pinot Noir you got for your birthday. 

“Don’t look so scared, sweetheart.” 

The cold tip of a gun presses harder against your ribcage, its owner leaning over you in such a fashion to hide it. His arm drapes over your shoulder, whispers falling in hot breaths on your ear. The pair of you take a step forward. The teller is focused on another customer currently; you don’t think she’s noticed your predicament quite yet.  

“You gotta look at least somewhat happy about this, or else the teller won’t cough up the cash.” He leans in further, squeezing you to his side. “If that happens, well.. You certainly won’t be leaving here alive.”

Deep breaths. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, threatening to destroy this whole charade in an instant. You don’t doubt the credibility of his threat. This man is clearly confident that this ridiculous idea for a robbery would work to begin with - seriously, in broad daylight, no mask, in a skin-tight black t-shirt and baggy jacket - why wouldn’t he be willing to cut down a few people in his way? No need to ponder it further as your ‘companion’ wipes at your eye. A surprisingly tender gesture, all things considered. 

“Awh, am I really that bad?”

Does he want an actual answer? 

It doesn’t matter now, it’s your turn at the desk. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?”

You force on the best smile you can manage, trying to keep your voice light and gentle. 

“I’d like to make a withdrawal, please.” The teller doesn’t make any indication that anything is awry. 

“Certainly. I’ll need your card and ID please. Which account did you want to withdraw from?”

Your companion steps in as you pull out your ID and card to hand over. “Savings please. We’re headed out on our honeymoon and wanted to make sure we had everything for the trip.” You nod, sliding the cards across the countertop.

The teller’s smile falters just a bit, but you’re hoping he sees it as some sort of surprise at being addressed by someone else, rather than the obvious. She continues with a small huff, “Well, I will need confirmation from the account holder after I make a copy of the ID. It seems the ID we have on file has expired, so I’ll have to make a new one for our system. It shouldn’t take more than a moment. ” Before either of you can protest, she’s turned away and headed for the scanner behind her. 

Toji - you think that’s his name, he mentioned it briefly when he cornered you outside and threatened you - leans in. The gun presses almost under your rib cage at this angle. “You’re gonna have to ask about the unmarked bills. I don’t think she’s buying this whole honeymoon bit.” The teller still has her back to you, working on scanning your ID. You can’t see her hands at all. 

She’s all smiles when she returns to the counter. She hands you your ID and card, but keeps her hands on the countertop. She makes eye-contact with Toji. 

“Alright, how much would you like to withdraw?”

He answers before you can. “All of it.”

“Please.” You chime in - “And can we, uh, can we get that in unmarked bills? The vacation is…international.”

You hesitated in your lie. The smile falters - both hers and yours. 

“Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

The teller leaves again, this time to grab the cash presumably. She’s gone off to another part of the bank. You want to relax, but you aren’t alone here. Toji keeps the gun pressed against your ribs - he must be practiced at this, considering how long he’s kept it up - and lets his lips ghost the outer shell of your ear. 

“Be more confident next time. We gotta look like a normal, happy couple here.”

You don’t tell him that most normal people don’t ask for unmarked bills in any situation. It’s practically the biggest red flag you could give at a bank besides actually pointing a gun at the teller.

 “Ya know, I don’t really like one-sided conversations doll. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His voice is light as ever, casual even.  Conversing with the person robbing you of all you have isn’t exactly what most normal people do either. Maybe you aren’t destined to have a normal day. Who are you kidding, any chance of that disappeared when you decided to go to the bank. 

“There’s not… a lot going on in my head right now. Besides the obvious.”

“The obvious?”

“Not dying.” You don’t know what gave you the gall to say some stupid shit like that until he chuckles. It’s not loud, but it sits deep enough in his chest to make him ease up on the pressure of the gun against you.

“‘Course. The obvious. Anything else? I’m looking forward to our ‘honeymoon’.”

This time you turn to actually look at him. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him when you first encountered him, a little too preoccupied by the gun pointed in your face. He’s quite attractive, with green eyes and shaggy black hair. The scar over his lip is still somehow eye-catching, and you aren’t sure you want to know where he got it from. 

You ask anyway. 

“Where’d you get that scar from?”

He seems almost surprised, which is fair. You aren’t sure you have any sense of self-preservation left. He considers your question for a second before just smirking and responding  - “It’s a long story.”

The teller re-enters your line of sight.

“Looks like our friend is back.” He whispers, continuing much louder when the teller returns to the counter. It’s only been a couple of minutes, but still you feel like she’s been gone much longer. “All done? We’re in a bit of a rush.”

She hands you at least four envelopes filled to the brim with bills. “Of course sir. I hope the two of you have a lovely honeymoon.” You are actually kinda impressed your savings managed to fill up such space. Simultaneously, it hurts knowing all that work will be gone as soon as you walk out of the building. Toji grabs the money from you, stuffing it in the pockets in his oversized pants. 

“Thanks, you’ve been a big help doll.”

You can’t tell who he’s addressing. 

The pair of you walk out of the bank, and towards the parked cars. 

“You did good back there sweetheart. Now you know the rules, you can’t tell anyone about what happened here tonight, clear?”

“Crystal.”

It’s almost over. This nightmare can end. 

And then you hear the sirens. 

They’re far enough off to not be an immediate threat, but you’re working ona very limited time frame now. Toji doesn’t hesitate as he practically throws you into the backseat of his car.  “Guess you and I are goin’ for a little ride.”

“Wait-!” The doors are closed before you can get a word in edgewise. He’s inserted himself in the front seat and started reversing out as you right yourself in the backseat. The sirens sound closer and he speeds off towards the highway as a couple of cop cars round the corner. 

The chase is on. Toji doesn’t seem phased, weaving in and out of traffic with practiced ease. You, on the other hand, are being tossed around in the backseat as he swerves, struggling to get your seatbelt on. The two of you make it to the service road unscathed, four cars hot on your tail. The sirens have made traffic practically grind to a halt, drastically slowing your progress. Groups of cars block your path, and road spikes make entering the highway nearly impossible. 

“Hold on princess, we’re taking a shortcut.”

You frantically grab the door handle, trying to keep yourself stationary as he jumps the curb to get around a roadblock. A car comes barrelling straight at you as you finally manage to secure your seatbelt. It’s not a direct collision - barely knicks the back bumper - but it’s enough to smack your head against the window. 

Hard. 

By the time you come to, it’s dark outside and you’re far, far out of town. 

“What the hell… Hey, where are we? Weren’t we being chased by cops?”

Toji looks at you in the rearview mirror, a smirk pulling at the edges of his scar. 

“Have a nice nap sweetheart?” He immediately pulls off onto the side of the road. You suppose you’re lucky he didn’t dump you sooner. He opens the driver door and hauls himself out of the front seat. 

“Stellar, thanks for... asking. Hey. Hey! Where the hell are we? What’s going on?” Unfastening your seatbelt, you try to scramble away as he walks around the car to the far door - the one facing away from the street. A hand closes around your ankle, and with a hard yank, you are flat on your back staring up at the man now blocking your best route for escape. 

“Does it really matter? I have no more use of you. So your time is up.” He’s planted one forearm on the top of the doorframe. Moonlight spills in behind him, highlighting the outer corners of his face. Radiant light from the tail lights leaves his left side illuminated in red.

“You’re just going to leave me here?!” You pull yourself onto your elbows, slightly ashamed of the heat that spiked in your gut from being manhandled.

“What’d you expect, doll?” He holds onto the edge of the frame as he leans in, planting an arm right next to your head. “Didja think you’d that I’d just drop ya off somewhere you’d be sure to get back safely? Leave a witness behind?” His eyes are wide open, opposed to the somewhat droopy look they’ve had up until this point. You can’t bring yourself to look away.

“I-I-No-I just -” Your face flushes at his proximity. If he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it a long time ago. He’s had ample chances - shooting you after he got the money or throwing you out of the car while possibly concussed, just to name a couple. If he truly wanted to kill you, and he waited until you thought you were safe to do so - then he would be truly evil. The idea of accidentally smartass-ing your way into an early grave has you tongue-tied.

Toji laughs. It’s not a pleasant sound, full of malice and mockery. He leans back a bit, eyes returning to their normal, aloof state as he takes a slow, considering look down your body. Your skin burns wherever his gaze passes over. You’re acutely aware of how this position makes your chest more prominent, how your legs are spread on either side of his on the outside of the car, how the heat from before never really went away but has instead continued to grow throughout this interaction. 

“Well, since you’ve been so good this far, I’ll be nice. Leave you a little somethin’ to remember me by.”

He lets go of the hood, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you upright into a brutal kiss. He bites at your lower lip, and you gasp. His tongue is long and presses into your mouth at the opportunity. He tastes like mint gum - he must’ve had some while you were out. Your arms find purchase on his shoulders, digging your fingers into his hair. Toji’s hand is warm on your lower back, pressing you up against his chest. 

Toji pulls away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting the two of you for a second before he dives towards the crook of your neck. His lips press against your pulse, teeth briefly nicking the skin there, a spark of electricity settling just beneath the area. His tongue flattens against your cheek as he licks one broad stripe from your jaw down to your collarbone. Again, he nips at you before retreating just enough to blow on the wet skin. The sudden chill sends a shiver down your spine, amplifying the heat pooling at your core. 

You instinctively attempt to clench your thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction or relief, only to be stopped by his legs between yours. He bites at the base of your throat, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. Nothing about Toji is gentle, and despite the alarm bells sounding in your head at this whole situation - you can’t help the strangled yelp that escapes you. 

You feel his devilish grin before you see it, the air sucked out of the car as he pulls away from his position marking up your neck. You can’t even pretend to ignore the flash of heat running through you at the dangerous spark in his eyes. Fuck the wine at home, you think you could get drunk off the feeling of him looking at you like a predator closing in on their poor, helpless prey. Maybe that wasn’t too far from the truth. 

He runs those hungry eyes over every inch of you, moving his hands to your waist. In one swift motion, Toji yanks you to the edge of the backseat - your lower half almost entirely out of the car. He wastes no time hauling your legs over his shoulders and begins to leave wet, open mouthed kisses up towards your aching cunt, heat from his breath doing nothing to cool down the fire burning in your gut. He mouths over your clothed core a couple of times, piercing eyes not leaving yours for an instant. Running his fingers along the waistline of your pants, he hooks his fingers under just enough to find purchase on both your pants and panties and practically rips them down your legs. 

Toji hovers over you for just a second. The cool night air settling over your exposed sex makes you squirm in his hold, his eyes more chilling than the night itself. In the soft red glow of the tail lights, he makes one more command. 

“Be as loud as you can. There’s no one out here to hear you but me. I don’t want you to hold back.”

He settles further between your legs, elbows on the seat and forearms thrown across your thighs as he positions himself in front of your cunt. Rather than give you what he knows you want just yet, he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the plush skin of your thigh. It hurts - the bite, the chill, the sensation of him sucking at your skin - and you arch up instinctively. Slamming your hands into the seat, you just about scream. Eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back tears. After the initial bite you fall back onto the seat, panting and whining at the continued sensation. You frantically try to tug at his hair, to pull him off of you, while attempting to move out of his iron grip. Truly, those muscles aren’t just for show. He seems almost emboldened by your attempts. 

Satisfied with the dark, defined bite mark on your thigh and the tear trails adorning your cheeks - he turns his attention to your forgotten cunt and buries his face in your pussy, the bridge of his nose nudging at your sensitive bud. It’s sloppy, it’s rough, it’s messy in a sort of perfected, practiced way. Every minute movement sends jolts of arousal up your spine that bury themselves in your stomach. You rock your hips against him as best you can with his arms still pinning you down. He licks a long hot stripe up your cunt, flicking his tongue at the top of the motion. Always one step away from truly sending you over that cliff. 

You think he’s trying to drive you crazy.

“Please…” 

A pathetic whine. You don’t even know what you’re pleading for - more? For him to stop playing around with you? For him to touch you? To play with your empty, empty cunt? More, more, always more. It might be the headache, it might be the man between your thighs, either way you can’t think straight anymore. You need something more. There’s a deep ache twisting inside you - and you’re pretty sure only the dark haired man in front of you can unwind it. 

“Please what? You know how I feel about one-sided conversations sweetheart.”

The words are muffled as he speaks them against your clit. He punctuates by wrapping his lips around the small bud and sucking on it for a brief moment. Your body jolts with each one, hips bucking.

“I need -  I need more… Please…” 

“More? Like…” One arm lays across your lower stomach, elbow under one hip and fingers splayed out across the other. He maintains his iron grip as he runs a single finger down your slit - collecting the juices before dipping one finger into your heat. He pushes up to the third knuckle, taking just a moment before retreating and slowly circling your clit. 

“Like that?”

You nod furiously, propping yourself up on your arms again. “Yes, yes, please more…” You can’t even bother with shame anymore.

He huffs out a chuckle, “Greedy little thing.” Toji returns his mouth to your clit, roughly plunging his finger back into your cunt. Pleasure blossoms through your body, unfurling its flaming tendrils into your muscles. Moans, whines, breathy half-sounds tumble out of your mouth,  your cunt clenching around his finger as he works you open with one finger, and then another that  presses upwards to find that small spongy spot that would bring the stars into the backseat with you.

Toji fucks his fingers into you as he suctions his lips around your sensitive bud. The heat building in your stomach is on the verge of bursting. 

“A-ah, I’m s’close…” You struggle against his hold again, aching to ride his face and fingers to completion. 

But it seems Toji has other plans. 

Almost as soon as those words leave your lips, the black-haired man quickly removes his fingers from your core. The night air hits your sopping cunt, clenching around nothing. You whine - what the hell?! You start to complain about your denied orgasm, but one look at Toji has any frustrated words dying on your lips. 

He looks positively feral. 

The scar over his lips glistens with the combination of spit and your juices. Teeth bared in a manic grin, his canines catching the light ever so slightly before a long, pointed tongue slips out to gather all remnants of you from his lips and fingers. His pupils are blown wide, hair mussed on the sides where it pressed against your thighs. Toji rises back up to his full height, towering over you in the car. You’d forgotten for a moment you should be scared of him. He doesn’t break eye contact. 

Your heart rate picks up significantly, the adrenaline that should’ve been present since he first grabbed you outside the bank finally making its debut. It must show on your face because the crazed look on his face only seems to intensify. What the hell were you doing? This was ridiculous! This man just robbed you of your life savings and here you are letting him eat you out! He could kill you - he still might after he’s finished with you! 

None of these revelations have remotely tempered the sheer arousal coursing through you.

You start to move away from him. Prey realizing too late that they’re already trapped in the predator's jaws. 

“Oh no ya don’t.” He yanks you back towards him by your ankle. “Can’t back out now, doll. That wouldn’t be fun for either of us.” He grabs your arm, hauling you out of the vehicle into the night. You stumble a little as your feet hit the ground. You spot your pants laying a few feet away, acutely aware of your current state of undress compared to his. Toji hardly gives you time to find your footing before pressing his lips against yours once more. You’re more prepared for this kiss this time- pushing your chest against his and winding your arm around his waist. Teeth clashing, lips bruising at the intensity. Before was messy, full of spit and the slightest gentleness. This? This was no less than Toji claiming you as his own. Another treasure to be had, rich lands to be conquered. He towers over you, placing one hand up under your jaw to tilt your head upwards for ease of access. 

He puppets you in the kiss, pushing and pulling as he moves you away from the open door towards the side of the trunk. You chase his lips, trying to keep an idea of where the car is with a hand following the frame. He pulls away once he’s got you up against a more solid section, and with a hand on either hip he spins you to face the car. You don’t have much time to process the sudden move before he presses himself against your back, warmth radiating through the fabric of your top a stark contrast to the cold metal beneath you.

One thick, calloused hand runs up under your shirt towards your chest - the other slowly moving over your hip towards your slick pussy. Toji presses his face against the crook of your neck, breathing over the exposed skin. You feel fully encased in him, a thought both comforting and terrifying. As with everything else, he doesn’t wait. One finger runs up and down your slit, playing once more with your clit while the hand under your shirt pinches your nipples through your bra. It doesn’t take long for small pants and whimpers to fall from your lips again as he works you back up towards that high. 

He presses two fingers back into your velvet cunt, surprisingly gentle as he works you open once more. His other hand unclasps your bra, allowing it to fall forward enough to comfortably take your breast into his hand. His teeth graze your neck and he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You whine, rolling your hips forward against his palm. 

The superheated knot in your core hardly has time to redevelop before he again leaves you empty and aching. You throw your head back, resting the side of your face against his hair. You try to press back against him, whining at the loss of his fingers. 

“Please….”

“Please what? Do you know how to say anything else?” He nips at your jaw, his voice positively dripping with the amusement plastered over his features. 

“Please stop playing and just fuck me already!”

This may not count as smart-assing your way to an early grave but it is certainly close.

Toji grins against your skin - “Greedy.” - and bites at your ear. His hands disappear from your body, but his mouth remains glued to the side of your neck. He sucks a small mark in the skin under your ear. You hear the rustle of fabric as his tongue traces over the bruise and down the curve of your jaw. The next moment he’s pressed back against you, obvious bulge pressed squarely against your ass. You try to reach behind, return just a bit of what he’s given you tonight - but Toji’s hands are already pressing your front down into the side of the trunk. One hooks under your thigh just slightly, spreading your feet apart just so. The cold air brushes like hot fire against your skin as he moves away.

You turn your head to the side, not wanting to take your eyes off of him.

One hand lazily strokes his cock, tall and proud, precum catching the light from the tail lights. He’s immersed in their red glow, raven hair mussed against the night sky. 

“This is what you wanted, right doll?”

You wet your lips ever so slightly. You nod. He tuts. 

“We talked about this.”

“Yes! Yes I-ah-I want this.”

He smirks and presses himself back against you. You feel the head of his cock nudging at your folds, dragging through your slit to gather some of the wetness there. His left hand grips your hip, fingers digging into the plush skin. The head catches ever so slightly on your seeping hole on each drag. Toji continues for only a moment more before positioning himself right against your entrance. 

With a small kiss to the nape of your neck, he pushes in. 

You feel like you’re being split open. He’s much longer than you realized - pressing against your cervix before he’s even bottomed out. The girth is just enough to stretch, filling you so deliciously. You hardly get a moment to adjust before he snaps his hips up into you. He presses his length fully into you with each thrust, pushing you forward with the sheer force behind them. As with everything tonight, his thrusts are rough and calculated. Bruising. Even when he’s mostly out of you, the throbbing sensation of your cervix being battered remains. It takes everything in you to remain upright. You cry out with each thrust, hands frantically trying to keep you steady on the smooth metal. You rock back against him as best you can, further amplifying his already bruising speed. 

The pace steals the air from your lungs, tightening around your core and leaving you panting against the car frame. Every inch of you burns with a passion and intensity you could hardly even fantasize before. The feeling of him stretching you open, the stars faintly twinkling in the distance, the mild ache from your now neglected clit, all burns their way into your muscles, taking up home in your memories. You want to close your eyes. You don’t want to miss the slight contortions of his face as he thrusts up into your slick heat. You need to focus on what you’re feeling. You want to lick at the sweat building at his brow, to inhale him into you. 

God, you are one depraved individual. 

A baser side of you takes over, finally letting your head fall to rest against the metal. A litany of incoherent, half-baked thoughts cross your mind and tumble out of your mouth. The knot in your stomach returns. He repeatedly snaps you back against him, the iron grip on your hips guaranteeing a new set of finger-shaped bruises in the morning. Toji readjusts his angle just slightly - enough to find that spot deep inside that steals your vision from you with each thrust. You choke out a garbled moan, and you miss the unsettling grin of a hunter that’s found its mark. 

He pushes you fully against the car, front resting nearly on top of the trunk with his body pressed firmly against your back. One hand snakes down towards your clit, while the other hooks up under your thigh to allow him full access to your poor abused pussy. He rests his head on your back, right at the curve of your shoulder blade. 

“Come on sweetheart, you’ve been so good for me this far.”

A calloused finger rubs circles on your clit. He nails your g-spot with nearly perfect precision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, the knot building and tightening with his attention.

“Give this to me. Remember this - ” a particularly rough thrust draws a cry from you “ - and who it was that made you feel like this.” He bites down onto the skin at the back of your neck, and combined with the finger on your clit and the thrusts against your cervix you can’t find it in yourself to hold on any longer. You’ve already given so much to him - your money, your body, your self-respect - you might as well give him a permanent home in your mind and fantasies. You think you’d probably give him anything if he asked for it. The tension building in your core finally bursts, flooding your senses with its white hot pleasure. You scream, shaking and clenching around him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. You lean into the overstimulation, tears streaming down your face as the pleasure wracks through you in bursts. At the top of one of those bursts, Toji groans and snaps your hips back one last time to fully seat himself within you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, so much that it begins to leak out around the base of his cock. 

The two of you don’t move for a moment, allowing the heat to settle and dissipate. Toji rests against you, one hand idly rubbing your side. If you weren’t almost entirely on the trunk you probably would’ve fallen to the ground by now. Every inch of you feels light and unreal. You start to focus on bringing yourself back down to reality; Toji pulls out and moves away from you. The night air on your back is refreshing, giving you something real to grab onto. Once you start thinking too hard about what just happened, you’re flooded with abject shame. 

This man just robbed you of your life savings and… you had (mind-blowing) sex with him?! 

You roll onto your back, groaning at the realization. You are quite possibly the stupidest person to ever exist. Or at least the stupidest one at this exact moment. How the hell were you going to get home? He already said he wasn’t just going to drop you off! Fuck - 

Toji pulls you out of your shame spiral, pressing a bundle of cloth - your pants probably - into your arms. 

“Ah, t-thanks.”

He’s fully dressed already, though it wasn’t like he took off much of his clothing to begin with. There’s a small piece of fabric hanging from his pocket, and you realize with increasing shame that it’s your panties. He notices you eyeing it and only smirks before fully hiding it in his pocket. 

“A souvenir. From our little… honeymoon.” You aren’t willing to focus on that any longer, instead electing to get your own pants on - sans proper undergarments. “Well doll. It was nice knowin’ ya.” 

Oh shit. 

Oh fuck oh shit oh fuck - he’s actually going to kill you now. Your heart races and you brace yourself against the car. You open your mouth, fully prepared to plead your case - I won’t say a word, this never happened, please just let me go - as Toji reaches into his other pocket. You want to cry. This has all been too much. He pulls out an envelope - one of the ones the teller at the bank gave you with your savings inside - and takes out a couple of bills. 

Toji wrenches your hand away from the car, and presses the bills firmly into your palm. He even makes sure to close your fingers around them. 

“Get a cab or somethin’. Don’t want ya wandering around too late. ”

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, staring dumbly after his figure as he walks around to the driver’s side. You try to process the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that was the past couple of minutes, but by the time you realize what’s happening Toji is already starting the car. You frantically feel your pockets - 

“Hey! W-Wait!”

He doesn’t.

“Wait, jackass! My phone’s in there!”

[randomfoggytiger]

"You Follow Your Heart, and It'll Take You Where You're Supposed to Go"

Happy belated birthday, @thursdayinspace! Hope this little post-cancer arc fic hits the spot~.

*****

Scully could think about it, now that the danger was past.

She luxuriously meditated in the quiet hours, stretching her aching limbs under layers of silk and satin, linen and patches until the bed became too constricting and her apartment too lonely; then, she toted that thought with her to Mulder’s apartment where he would greet her with etched worry lines and a wisecrack for her especial amusement. She’d been tempted to open the topic with him-- to take advantage of this freeness that floated heady and relieved and excited between them. But she sensed her partner’s toppled equilibrium: he, too, was still healing. 

Instead, she tucked up her feet and leaned back her head and closed her eyes and started, again, from the beginning. 

Cancer-- a word second only to tumor in ugliness. Her nose would bleed, she would call Mulder, and they would force Skinner’s permission to investigate her disease as a case. She would still call her mother. 

Melissa, Scully decided, would have called her first. Her older sister, always right behind little Dana during the best and worst moments of their lives, always inescapably in-tune with her tragedies-- With your spirit, Dana, Missy'd said once when both girls were still mystified by the unknown. 

Melissa would have called, forced the truth out of her, and insisted on driving or flying or backpacking to the facility where she’d been treated. Would have brought blankets and teas and improbable potions, and would have scolded and ranted about Scully having already given up. “You’re still alive, Dana. You’re here because you want to live-- why aren’t you fighting this?” And they would have fought and been impossible; and Melissa would have voiced their fear openly. She, too, would have trusted and hoped in Scanlon. 

Penny would've died, and Scully would've determined to survive; and Melissa would have arrived with their mother in the morning to drive her home. Scully, a dreamland away, could feel her sister’s gentle grip and hear her whispered, “Welcome back” as Maggie efficiently packed up the room and dashed at a tear. 

The months would flow by in fits and starts, work and immunotherapy and denial consuming most of her time. Mulder and Missy would eat up the rest. Dog years and weekly sister nights and Navy brother birthday cards would pepper her existence, would justify her blithe acceptance of Eddie van Blundht’s friendly farce. 

B-L-U-N-D-H-T. What would her sister have thought of that? Scully inhaled sharply; held, then released her breath slowly. She’d never have told Melissa.

Her musings were usually cut short. Today, it was the scuffle of Mulder’s socks.

She knew he’d seen her when his noises stopped and he began to pad, not drag, his feet across the floor. Deciding to save him the trouble of natural assumptions and stifled noises, Scully popped open one eye, looked up at him keenly. 

“Catch some beauty sleep?” Mulder teased-- a decent cover, if his grin hadn't widened with awed gratitude. The inconvenience of her convalescence seemed so small compared to life’s rediscovered joys. 

“Mm, a nice one,” Scully admitted; and let her eyes slip close to catch a lingering glimpse of Melissa’s smile.

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic.

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter: Chapter 4

A/N Heyyyyy- Thank you all so much for reading and liking the previous parts :D I appreciate it sooo much. Hopefully yall like this chapter :) Comment if u want to be added to a taglist.

Word count: 872

Ghost pov:

At 4:00 sharp Y/N exited the locker room, she spotted me from across the gym and walked over, I met her in the middle.

remember, be friendly not bitchy

"Hello Y/N, how was your day?"

This better work soap

She looked bewildered at my question

"G-Good?" She hesitated, looking around, possibly scanning for some sort of trap.

"There's no catch, I just thought I should act friendlier towards you." I confessed

"Okay-" she slowly nodded her head

An awkward silence followed

"Lets begin," I said

She nodded her head as I walked off in the direction of the agility course. Y/N padded along beside me. The silence still felt awkward.

"So where were you stationed before coming here?" I asked her

"Anchorage, we were mostly a port for shipments, a bit of classified work too, you know, with Russia being less than 100 miles away."

"Alaska?"

"Yeah, weathers better here."

I laughed at her un-funny joke, just to break the ice.

We reached the ladder leading up to the first stage of the course, a leaderboard posted at the bottom.

"Your not on here lieutenant, I thought you were supposed to be athletic with those... muscles." She paused before the last word, my cheeks turning a dusty rose color at her mention of my body. Thank fuck for this mask.

"A big, bulky guy like me isn't the most agile," I told her.

she hummed.

"I'm going to time you, lets do 5 sets of the entire course, three minutes rest in between each." I explained

"Go!" I commanded.

She dashed up the ladder with decent speed, swinging across the hanging ropes with ease. She stepped across the moving bridge without hesitation, her foot slipped at one point. most at least stop to calculate the timing or something.

Daring, I noted.

I didn't like that trait for her, too dangerous. She should have at least stopped to analyze the situation first.

I watched her complete the first stage, scaling another ladder. She came across an obstacle that required you to jump a fair distance onto it, then use your full arms strength to pull yourself up to a platform. I pursed my lips when she struggled to pull herself up. Her arms quivered, face contorting into a grimace, finally she slipped and fell into the safety net.

"Climb down," I yelled up to her

She threw her head back and groaned, crawling across to the ladder and descending it.

"I almost had it," Y/N pouted.

"Change of plans, Lets do an arm workout."

She sighed and followed me over to the weights.

"Since we're being friendly now, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself," she suggested.

I scoffed, "what do you want to know."

"When's your birthday," she began.

"May 18th."

"Favorite color?"

"Black."

"Music preference?"

"I don't listen to music"

"Birth year?"

"1994"

"Why do you wear that mask?"

Reader pov:

Ghost looked like he just saw a ghost.

You awaited your answer.

"This is a bench press," he said gruffly. Effectively changing the subject.

You ignored his lack of response and instead listened to his explanation on how to bench.

He demonstrated with a few reps. He made the 45 pound bar look like a pencil with his large, work-hardened hands and massive biceps. He had turned from awkwardly friendly to cold and reserved again. I shouldn't have asked about his mask, you thought.

He motioned for you to repeat after him. You used to train arms 3x per week for Track and XC but your conditioning has faded, even after joining the army. Ghost told you to do 3 sets of 10, with no weight on the bar. The first set was easy enough although, You had severely underestimated what not working arms for months would do. Halfway through the second set, Your shoulders burned. Your form went to shit and you were breathing heavily. Ghost took notice and helped guide the bar up and down.

You blushed at the close proximity of you and him, hoping he would mistake it for your exhaustion and not your lack of male attention for the last year and a half. Your old base had kept men and women strictly separated. You barely finished the third set.

Without a word, he moved on to the racks of dumbells. You could sense his anger at being asked such a personal question.

"Look, I'm sorry for aski-" he cut you off.

"Save it," he snapped. Not even bothering to look back at you as he began to curl impossibly large weights. You grabbed two, ten pound weights and followed, matching his pace and motions.

After a few sets he switched the motion, exercising a different muscle. He continued this cycle until finally re-racking the weights and moving on to other machines. You followed him wordlessly, until finally he looked at you and muttered, "Dismissed." You would have missed it if you hadn't been listening to him. Silently hoping that he would turn towards you and crack a joke, or accept your apology, or at least to give you feedback.

But no.

The mysterious lieutenant brushed past you and exited the gym. Leaving you all alone.

Taglist: @abbiesxox

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 14!!!

Happy Birthday to regular reader and commenter @ritz-writes !! :D

Here's the sculpture mentioned in the fic: https://noma.org/collection/history-of-the-conquest/

You'll notice that the poll at the bottom isn't anything suuuuper important. There's just some plot things that I want to get running in the next section, so I'm gonna be writing it up and posting it tomorrow. But I promise you that it's still an important choice to make (also idk what to pick so that means you all get to pick lol ).

Okay! Here we go! Back to New Orleans with The Anti-Apocalypse Crew!

Beginning || Previous || Next

*************************

Now that you all were in the city, it only took Anathema the next morning to hone in on her signal. To Aziraphale's delight, it led you all to the sculpture garden at the New Orleans Museum of Art. To your delight, it led more specifically to a sculpture of a person riding a snail (to victory no doubt).

"I think this might be my favourite statue ever," You say aloud (because this author is assuming you would agree with her opinion). There is a person you don’t know standing in front of the statue. He gives a dissatisfied huff.

"It's called 'History of the Conquest,'" he tells you, despite not being asked, "The ever-slow and over-confident march of the entitled towards a future where they're in charge. Everyone else suffers while they promise glory and prosperity."

Your jaw drops open. This person looks like a 'surfer dude,' but is talking like someone who's spent most of their life in a cubicle changing 1s to 0s for 8 straight hours a day.

"WOW! That is BLEAK," is what finally comes out of your mouth. "Proper ray of sunshine, you are."

Okay, that sounded really British. You briefly wonder about the effect of spending so much time around Crowley and Aziraphale before Surfer Dude starts to laugh.

"I've seen a few things, human. Been 'round longer than you've been alive, will be long after you die. You're no more than a moth in my eyes."

"Wow," You can't help but repeat yourself, "Again, bleak." Also rude, but priorities.

"It is what it is," Surfer Dude replies. You shake your head and turn to Aziraphale and Crowley.

"You're up," You concede. You have no idea who this is, but he called you "human," and compared you to a moth. Whoever this person is, they’re probably the one Anathema’s had you looking for. He doesn’t look like Jesus, but maybe he will know where Jesus is. Either way, Anathema doesn’t get things wrong. If her work brought you to this person, then he’s the person you need to talk to.

That being said, whoever this is, he's the Ineffable Husbands' department and not yours. Sometimes you just gotta tap out and let the celestials handle their own kind. Now, this doesn't mean that you're not going to sit back and watch. Oh no, you want to see how this plays out.

"Can I have some popcorn?" You stage-whisper to Crowley as you pass him.

"Piss off," Crowley stage-whispers back. Despite his complaint, you notice a tiny Michael-Sheen smile on Aziraphale's face, and you return to Anathema, who looks surprised and is holding two small cartons of popcorn. You gratefully take one and have a seat on a convenient bench that is located conveniently within earshot. This is gonna be good.

"Hello," Aziraphale begins as he approaches, "I'm Aziraphale."

"Right," Surfer Dude says with a roll of his eyes, "The Angel of the Eastern Gate. I'm so honoured."

"Here I thought manners were important to angels," Crowley replies, sidling up next to Aziraphale. Surfer-Dude-Who-Is-Apparently-An-Angel takes in Crowley and raises an eyebrow.

"And here I thought demons didn't make a habit of hanging off angels' arms," Surfer Dude scoffs in in return.

Crowley snarls.

"Yes, well, each of us seems to be an anomaly in our own right," Aziraphale says with an appeasing smile, "This is Crowley. Might we have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"No."

"Ah, right. Well, that is to your own discretion I suppose."

"Rude is what it is," sneers Crowley.

"Regardless, we've come to this garden with the guidance of our friend here, hoping to find, well, Jesus as it happens."

Surfer-Dude-Angel-Person throws his head back and laughs outright.

"You're looking for who now? JESUS? HA! Bit of soul-searching for you, is it? Spiritual journey? Pilgrimage to the Holy Land? You're in the wrong place for that!" He keeps laughing.

I mean, you get the laughter. It definitely sounds weird to a third party. Crazy even. But if this guy is an angel, then shouldn't it sound perfectly reasonable?

"Oi," Crowley interrupts, clearly impatient, "We're trying to save the world here. And since angels don't normally take holiday time, I'd think helping us might be in your best interest."

"You think you can stop the Second Coming? Ha! There isn't another technicality that you can throw around this time. This one's it. Enjoy the giant snail statues while they last, because it won't be for much longer."

"You know an awful lot," You call from the bench, "And you like to talk. So just get to the part about Jesus so we can leave you to be miserable on your own." You popcorn is already almost finished, and you frown into your carton. If only you could do miracles. You'd refill it yourself.

Surfer-Dude-Angel-Person laughs again.

"Yeah, okay, I like this one," he says, nudging a thumb in your direction. He turns away from Crowley and Aziraphale and strides towards you. Suddenly your popcorn carton is full again, so you look up. Okay, maybe he's not so bad. He reaches out a hand to you.

"Call me Sardis, Little Moth."

After a moment of hesitation, you shake his hand. He turns back to Crowley and Aziraphale.

"I can see why you've adopted this one," he says, then turns his attention to Anathema, paying no mind to the garbled protests coming from Crowley. "And since we're doing introductions...?"

"Anathema Device," says Anathema with a nod. She would probably shake his hand, but between her equipment and her popcorn, her hands are full.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss Anathema," Sardis nods at her before finally looking back at Aziraphale and Crowley. "You won't find Jesus here. But meet me for drinks later and I'll tell you what you need to know to find him."

"You're unnecessarily cryptic, Sardis," You say with a raised eyebrow and a mouth full of popcorn. He laughs again.

"Well, Little Moth," his eyes have a sparkle in them now as he looks at you, "Gotta keep myself entertained somehow."

Sardis insists on giving you all a tour of the sculpture garden, but refuses to say anything more about Jesus, or how he knows about Armageddon, or why he isn't in Heaven, or anything else that you actually WANT to talk about. He insists that such talk isn't for a quiet garden full of art. It isn't until he lays a cryptic finger beside his nose and winks at you that something clicks in your memory.

Remember, back before JK Rowling turned out to be an awful person, back when everyone read Harry Potter? EVERYONE, RIGHT?? Perhaps, dear Reader, you remember the chapter in book 5 where Hermione calls a meeting at The Hog's Head because it’s less crowded. Hermione figures the sparse crowd means that there are fewer people to see them together. Perhaps you also remember when, later in the book, this action comes back to bite them, and they are told very sternly that they should have met at the Three Broomsticks precisely BECAUSE it was busier. A busy pub meant they would have been less likely to be overheard.

Suddenly you look around the garden and notice the sparse, but very much there, collection of people. Just the right number of people that could listen to your conversation if they wanted to without you being any the wiser. Oh.

Oh.

Maybe the cryptic is a little bit necessary after all. He’s still overdoing it in your opinion, but whatever floats his goat.

You part ways after his tour, agreeing to meet at a local bar at 9pm. There’s enough time to go back to the hotel, freshen up, and get something to eat before you make your way there.

“Well,” Aziraphale says back at the hotel, “This Sardis certainly is a character.”

“I know the name from somewhere,” You trail off in thought. Where have you heard it before? Sardis…Tardis…Sardine….You’re not sure, but it rings a bell.

Anathema is already flipping through notebooks. Aziraphale has picked up his copy of the Bible, and Crowley is on his phone. You figure everyone else has it covered, and sure enough, it’s Crowley who finds it first. Google, no doubt.

“Ha! Found the sod! He’s in Revelation.”

“Oh!” You practically jump as recognition finally hits. “He’s one of the seven angels! The ones we didn’t think were here!”

“You didn’t think any of them were here?” Anathema asks, “Did you even check, or did you just assume?”

“Well Muriel said…” You go quiet, before clearing your throat and trying again. “We didn’t look into it far at all, no.”

“So exactly what work did you do before you called me?”

“Umm…….” You say.

“Nnngggh” Crowley adds.

“A great deal less than we thought at the time, apparently,” Aziraphale finally admits with a sigh.

“You are all really bad at saving the world.” Anathema shakes her head.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[hum-suffer]

Ours

Ishan doesn't remember the last time he was this upset. He's striding across the hallway to the hotel room he's been alloted. To share.

It's late at night, well past the hours of deep midnight. There's no one in the dimly lit corridor— the older teammates had already retired to their rooms while the youngsters stayed for the afterparty.

"You could have bloody well told me she'd be there!" He snaps at Shubhman. His best friend, the friend that Ishan has been head over heels for over five years, sighs and looks down. Shubhman, who shares the room with Ishan. "No. You don't get to be a fucking puppy."

"Ishan, dude, I didn't know! I just posted a snap of the place, how was I supposed to know she'd be there? Kammo said she declined the invitation, I trusted him!"

Shubhman moves to remove his suit jacket as Ishan pushes the door open. Ishan uses his movements as a distraction, lest he stare at the way Shubhman's light blue silk shirt clings to him. It's one he's shared with Shubhman for so long that now either of them remembers who it originally belonged to.

(Lies.

Ishan remembers buying it for Shubhman and then joking around about how he has right on it.

He remembers when Shubhman invited him to Shahneel Didi's birthday and gave him the shirt with a smile and an order to wear it.

He had a cold shower before changing.)

He brings himself back to reality when Shubhman locks the room almost absentmindedly and removes his shoes, all the while focusing on Ishan as if Ishan is the centre of his universe.

His cheeks are red and Ishan doesn't know if it's anger or embarrassment. "I swear, Ishan, why do you even care? I don't give a fuck whether she shows face or not!"

Ishan cares because she had been flirting with Shubhman for all evening and that motherfucking idiot Shubhman did not even realise what she was doing. Ishan cares because sees her arm wrapped around his bicep somehow burned Ishan's skin. Ishan cares because she held tightly to Shubhman even when he tried to move away. Ishan cares about his personal space and she fucking doesn't. Ishan just cares.

In a clearly failed attempt to calm down himself, Ishan removes the watch and bracelets on his wrists— all but the one Shubhman made for him. While he's at it, he also removes the leather jacket he was wearing, making sure to not let the bracelet catch in the soft lining of the jacket.

"Ishan? Bloody say something!"

Ishan glares at him. "You want me to say something?" He throws down the jacket on the floor, uncaring for it. He takes a step towards Shubhman. "She's using you for clout. She's using you for fame. And you know it. You know it and you go along with it any-fucking-way as if you have no self respect! You go and sit with her and then I'm left alone for the rest of the night! I'm sorry if my anger inconveniences you!"

By the time he stops, he's breathing hard and his eyes and throat are burning. I love you, he wants to say. I love, love, love you.

Shubhman softens. "You should have told me."

Ishan laughs in his face, a bitter sound. "Told you? Boy, you'd not even be aware I was beside you!"

Shubhman tenses. "Impossible. I'm always aware of you, Ishan. I'm—"

"Aware?" Ishan snaps, on a roll now. "You didn't even look at me the whole goddamn time!"

And before he can continue his tirade, Shubhman narrows his eyes. "Move back, Ishan."

"Oh, so now you've a problem with me sharing your personal space? You can't disagree with her but you tell me to move fucking back?" Ishan doesn't move back. He's stubborn as a mule, especially when he's mad.

Shubhman's jaw flexes. "Move back before I lose the little control I have, Ishan." Ishan doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. "Before I lose my control and kiss you, right now, shamelessly, without any regret, move fucking back, Ishan."

Ishan freezes all over. Shubhman seems to have realised what he said and his eyes widen and he looks panicked for a moment before taking a fortifying breath. He looks at Ishan like he could devour him.

Ishan would let him.

He moves a step closer, close enough that he can feel Shubhman's breath on his skin. Close enough that if he swayed, he'd faceplant in Shubhman's chest.

"Then lose your control before I do, Shubh."

Shubhman's eyes widen for a moment and Ishan thinks, this is it, he must have been—

He doesn't have the time to complete the thought. Shubhman is kissing him and all coherent thoughts are evaporated in his head. Oh god. Oh fucking god. Shubhman is kissing him. His hands are wrapping around Ishan and pulling him in.

It takes a moment before Ishan realises that he's kissing Shubhman.

Oh fuck. He's kissing Shubhman. He's kissing the boy he loves. He's kissing his best friend.

The thought makes him pause and pull away. They're both breathing hard and Shubhman's eyes are dark as he looks at Ishan with unashamed want. Ishan wants to kneel with the weight of want he feels from Shubhman.

"Ish." Shubhman breathes and rests his forehead against Ishan's. Ishan closes his eyes and lets him feel the weight of Shubhman's head, relaxing. "Fuck, you're everything."

A blush must had crawled up his ears. Ishan looks down. "Shubh, we need to talk."

Shubhman hums but doesn't remove his hands from Ishan. "We need to talk." Ishan says again, but he can't hide his giddy smile.

"And I'm not stopping us. Let's talk."

Stubborn mule, Ishan thinks fondly. He sobers up quickly as he hesitantly speaks. "I love you, Shubh. I've loved you as a best friend for as long as I've known you and I've loved you as something completely different for years now. This...this may not mean to you what it does to me and I don't even ask anything of you. I just want you to tell me what you feel. I'm not ruining our friendship over a kiss. I need to know what you feeling. Or we can forget this ever happened and—"

He can't speak more. He can't. Of course, if Shubhman wants, Ishan will forever continue to pretend that he feels nothing but platonic love for him and he will pretend to forget to have ever felt Shubhman kiss him. He will pretend to forget the possessive hold Shubhman still has on him and he'll live. He'll be miserable but he'll live.

Shubhman nods. His hands are still resting on Ishan's hips. "I don't particularly think I love you in a romantic sense, yet." Ishan's world shatters and he breathes out as if someone punched the air out of his chest. "But, I still fancy you. You're not some experimental adventure. The thought of crying without your shoulder, the thought of waking up without you, the thought of having anything less than what we have right now makes me want to choke. You're not a passing fancy, Ish. And I might say that I'm not completely romantically in love with you right now, but I know that I'm half way over already. The thought of anyone but you in my arms makes me want to scream."

Ishan takes a shuddering breath. It's now or never. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Shubhman doesn't speak anything for a moment and Ishan looks up at him searchingly only to see him grinning like a loon. "Of course, I'll go on a date with you! I've been meaning to watch this new movie—"

"No! No hostile takeover on my date, I assure you!" The response is almost instinct by now. Ishan knows Shubhman and how well he uses his puppy eyes to take over the hangout activities and do what he wants.

"Your?" He raises an eyebrow and pulls Ishan towards himself with a jerk. He barely stops himself from crashing his nose on Shubhman's chest as Shubhman continues, very amused."You mean, our?"

It makes him incredibly giddy. He nods. "Our."

____________________________________________________

@ronika-writes-stuff hope you don't mind me tagging you and like this!

Part 2

[supabros]

T/w suicide. Alright so: I just wanted to do a quick appreciation post for Russel. I wanna owe him his due. This motherfucker is the best Gorillaz member, and will always be the most interesting character for me. Not even gonna talk about the ghosts and demons n stuff because everyone knows that. But this man is the most loyal mother fucker ever invented. AND, his story is tragic. Bro fell in love with a girl who introduced him to the activist world. Was possibly in love with his best friend who ended up getting shot right in front of him. Punched Murdoc for sleeping with Paula in respect for 2-D. Bought Noodle a jetpack to cheer her up when she was feeling depressed because of her nightmares n shit. Bought Damon Albarn a gift for his birthday. And on top of all that, was dealing with mental issues. After Dels ascension to the afterlife it’s genuinely depressing to witness this amazing guy lose his sanity. And to make shit worse when Noodle disappeared? Which leads us to the 2010 Russel Ident. Which originally in the lore was supposed to depict Russel throwing himself into the sea in a attempt of some sort of s*icide. (Look at Russels note for ref) I’ve kinda soured on how Russel is depicted now, since I thought the mental health issues he grappled with, as dark as they were; gave an interesting look at his character and that seems to have been retired for him obsessing over food and shoes. Regardless, Russel Hobbs is the best gorillaz member. No one understands this man; and he’s needs more screen-time and appreciation from both the fans and people behind gorillaz. I’m very high. Goodnight tri state area.

[hazel-islivingtrash]

New chapter coming Saturday! We finally see happened after that (mean) cliffhanger I left the last chapter on!

I don't have much else to say besides I'm sorry for leaving last chapter on a cliffhanger 😭 on top of it coming out with chapter 261 last week. The cliffhanger part was intentional and I wanted it to happen, but to top that with what had happened in the JJK manga was a lot lmaoo

Anyways, enjoy this sneak peek :D

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sneak peek for Chapter 19 (spoiler warning): You're the One Thing I Can't Stand to Lose

Satoru was late. He should’ve been there a couple of minutes ago.

It wasn’t necessarily the biggest deal, Satoru wasn’t always the best with time to begin with, so maybe he just got distracted once they got off the phone.

Yes, that had to be what it was.

Satoru was fine. He was almost there. Suguru would hear the buzzer any second.

Any second spanned several minutes, with nothing to satiate the growing pit in Suguru’s stomach. It tore through his gut, making him feel hollow.

Should he call Satoru? What if he was trapped somewhere? But if he was, why hadn’t he called? Maybe he didn’t have service?

Suguru debated it more, but figured he probably shouldn't call. If Satoru was still driving, he should focus on getting off the roads safely, whether that was to Suguru’s apartment, or back to his own house, or even holding himself up in a building with other refugees of the storm.

Yet, the pit in his stomach still nagged at him. Suguru settled on just calling Shoko, to check in with her and see if she knew anything.

Satoru was fine. He had to be fine.

The call seemed to ring forever before Shoko picked up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having a little date with the birthday boy?” She said, half teasingly, half curious.

Suguru felt his heart drop though, his throat closing. “So you haven’t heard from him?” His voice was choked out weakly.

“No?” Shoko said, “Isn’t he with you?”

“No.” Suguru’s hand shot to his mouth as his body started to shake. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Satoru would show up any second, laughing about how long he took, and giving Suguru a hug for how much he was scaring the life out of him.

Suguru was just overreacting. Satoru was fine. He said he would be.

He promised.

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For those of you who are seeing this for the first time, welcome! If this intrigues you, it would be amazing if you could check out my fic! Updates are posted every Saturday at 3pm est!

Current status of fic:

Current status of fic: 18 out of 25 chapters complete, just over 107K words ❤️❤️

**The story is rated mature and with a warning of graphic depictions of violence.