#thank you so much for sending it

[the-meat-machine]

what is your general read of caliborn? like character motivation wise? i love him sosososo much but i think i take a particularly charitable view of his character. like yes he is a hater misogynistic time demon obsessed with gore. but he is also obsessed with art and love <3 personally i think of his primary motivations in the comic as a combination of ambition but more importantly a desire for freedom / the ability to be his own man and to not be threatened or controlled by other people (callie, gamzee, chewing off his leg, etc.) he loves to win but the real prize that comes with winning is the ability to exercise your will on others rather than to have the will of others exercised on you, & i think this interpretation tracks with how he becomes the literal lord of time, which is basically fate in the comic? although it fucks him in the end anyway. idk this is how i think of him and therefore i do kind of think he is just a baby doing his best. like SURE he did galactic crimes. but he was also SAD and TRAPPED. <- no one agrees with me

I don't think my take on him is quite so generous. I think that ultimately, Caliborn's actions are primarily motivated by his drive for destruction.

That said, I agree with you that there's more to him than just wanting to fuck shit up forever. The problem is that I don't think Caliborn knows that. Perhaps he was sad, but if he was, he never realized it. Certainly he was trapped, but most of those traps were, ultimately, of his own devising. And he does value art and love, but not enough to consider straying from his destructive path for even a moment.

Bear with me, because my answer to this ask has basically become a thesis on Caliborn. I'll present it in two sections: one about Caliborn's relationship with fate, and one about his tragic lack of self-awareness.

Freedom and Fate

The thing about Caliborn is that I don't think he really values freedom at all, as a concept. Certainly not others' freedom, but not really his own either. He's all about rules, and he's more than willing to accept restrictions if doing so will get him closer to his goal.

Because if all Caliborn had wanted was freedom, he could have achieved it much more easily by working with Calliope. If they had trusted each other at all, they could have been free of their shackles within a day by simply agreeing that they'd each leave their own shackle off when they slept. If Caliborn had been willing to play the game with Calliope, their joint game session would have been far, far more fun than his nightmare of a solo session was.

Of course, Calliope is perhaps the principle person he wants to be free from. But Calliope isn't really trying to control him — she wants to cooperate with him. (On the other hand, to say that she wants him to cooperate with her is to say that she wants him to become more like her, which is, perhaps, its own sort of destruction of his personality. But let's be honest, Caliborn's personality fucking sucks and everyone, including him, would be way better off if he were more cooperative.)

It's true, though, that Caliborn wants to become not only the master of his own fate, but the master of everyone's fate. And he succeeds! But the way he does it isn't by seeking to change fate — it's by embracing the inevitable. When he sees that something is going to happen in the future — even if it's his own defeat — his instinct isn't to fight it. It's to make himself into the one responsible for it.

(This also indirectly makes Caliborn responsible for his own imprisonment as a child. By the point in the story when the cherubs are born, Gamzee is acting as little more than a manifestation of Caliborn's own will. Everything he does is to ensure Lord English's eventual existence, at Lord English/Caliborn/Lil Cal's behest.)

In the end, Caliborn's will is so tightly interwoven with the alpha timeline that cause and effect become blurry. Is it fate because he wills it, or does he will it because it's fate? To Caliborn, I don't think that's a meaningful question. He believes to the core that what he wills is inevitable, and that if something is inevitable, it must be because he willed it. The two are one and the same to him.

Personally, I would argue that Caliborn is just as bound by fate as anyone else in the comic — maybe even more so — but it's because that's the path he's chosen of his own "free" will. Is that freedom? The freedom to choose not just to embrace inevitability, but to become the inevitable? Perhaps.

Now… could he ever have chosen otherwise? (They say that when you face The Choice, it hardly feels like a choice at all.)

Really, Caliborn is a self-fulfilling time loop. Right from the start, he is exactly what he needs to be to ensure his own predominance.

The Tragedy of Caliborn

So here's the flip side to Caliborn's inevitability.

The tragedy of Caliborn is that what he's determined to get isn't necessarily what's best for him as a person. What he thinks he wants is to fuck shit up, forever and always. This is his goal. This is always his goal. And he succeeds at this goal beyond his wildest imaginings… at the cost of giving up literally everything except for that goal.

Because, yeah, I agree that Caliborn does care about art. He does, deep down, want love and affection. But he'll throw all that away for power, without hesitation. It's really kind of sad.

Lord English is the culmination of everything Caliborn has been working for. He is everything that Caliborn thinks he wants to be. But Lord English doesn't tell stories. Lord English never holds hands with anyone. Lord English is barely even a character. He's a force of nature, the personification of destruction. There's nothing left of Caliborn in him except for raging misogyny and the drive to murder entire universes.

And the worst part is, Caliborn understands himself so little that he never once regrets this. In pursuit of his goal, he gives up everything that makes him him, and he doesn't even notice!

I've said before that, by definition, Caliborn can't question himself — because if he were the sort of person who ever doubted himself, he wouldn't be the sort of person who could become Lord English.

This is the downside of that. Caliborn cannot ever decide "wait, maybe I'd rather spend my life making art and smooching dudes instead of fucking shit up for all eternity?" The idea that he could have been wrong about what he thought he wanted out of life is inconceivable to him.

And, like… I guess getting to destroy shit for all eternity makes Caliborn pretty happy! But… maybe he could have been even more fulfilled some other way?

Caliborn doesn't think so! But there's a hell of a lot Caliborn doesn't understand about himself.

#i hope i don't come across as too argumentative because i love love love this ask #thank you so much for sending it #caliborn #meatmeta

[ninjnerd-anaklusmos]

The way I can deep analyze/close read OFiFotO to pieces (and will continue to with each chapter you post ^-^) but cannot even begin read my assigned reading for English class once to get a base understanding of it without my mind blanking and the words turning to gibberish xD

Ten out of ten compliment, thank you!!!! That makes me feel very accomplished as a writer, I'm so happy to see that you're so invested.

But you should probably try to focus a bit on English. That way you can better analyze fanfiction XD

#obey me #shall we date obey me #one foot in front of the other #ofifoto #asks #anon asks #answered asks #thanks for the ask! #this made me so happy to read #thank you so much for sending it

[mollymarymarie]

i love chap 5 of DYH because its really just:

"We have to control ourselves!" *hugs each other for an entire conversation about faith*

LISTEN 🤣🤣🤣🤣

I feel appropriately called out by this ask. I mean, you're not wrong??? They are terrible at staying away from each other (and by they, I mean I, as the writer, am terrible at keeping them apart 😂)

#I got an ask! #DYH #You're not wrong #I loved this ask omg #Thank you so much for sending it #I got quite a laugh out of it

[inkskinned]

i know people are good because of this: the universe often assigns me side quests. in a circular strangeness; despite my inability to locate my-own-anything, i am almost-always finding someone else's lost things. dogs, coats, phones, cash, laptops. it happens so often it's almost tiring; suddenly being looped into a tiny amount of detective work.

but when i'm with other people who are not used to this: the response is almost invariably delight. yes, maybe they are simply thrilled by the mystery. it's just... they light up so much. i think maybe more... i think they like the opportunity to do something kind.

a few weeks ago, i was at a bar and i found a wallet as soon as we stepped outside. i felt nervous to ask for help, worried i would be holding up the night. i picked it up and said go on without me, i should help this get back to its home.

instead, three people pulled out their phones - to find him on facebook, to help cancel his credit cards. two people went back into the bar to tell the bartender, two others went calling down the street. group texts, facebook posts, instagram stories. people, without even seeing what happened, start offering help to me. fifteen minutes and: someone knows someone who knows the guy. the cheer that went up - just for finding him, just for this small thing. someone gets him on the phone. strangers dance around me, hopping on their feet - are you the girl that found that wallet? good for you, that's a good thing you're doing/same thing happened to me and somebody did what you're doing and i thank god everyday for people like you/i can't believe you found him so fast this is so exciting

i gave it back to him in a parking lot. i watched his shoulders sag with relief. there was cash in it still - he checked the pocket, and then sheepishly held the money out to me. i didn't take it. i held up my hands. "it's no problem, man. i know you'd do the same for me."

i don't know him, to be honest. i don't know if he is the same kind of person i am. but he nodded at me.

and i know people are good. i know people are good, because the way this story ends isn't surprising. we wave goodbye awkwardly. my friend loops their arm around me.

"i can't believe we got it back to him," they said. "i'm going to be riding that high for weeks."

#i lost my wallet in disney world once #and really thought i had beefed it bc i was 19 and alone #and a woman got it back to me within an hour #just like . a mom #i have no idea how she got my number or info #and i do think that since then karmatically god has been like. #ur about to be the same person in someone else's life #btw i like the side quests but they never happen at a good time #once saved 2 lost dogs while on the way to the airport. i already had my 70 pound dog in the back of my car #and had to chase 2 dogs down the street to wrastle into my passenger seat #(she ended up writing me the fucking nicest thank you card and sending me WAY #W A Y too much in target bucks as a thank-you) #i went 2 go see batman the other night and legit like. had already been running late #to go see a friend #and instead was like. sorry i have to step outside and use this person's phone to see if i can find them #i once found 250 dollars in cash lol #MEANWHILE IN MY PRIVATE LIFE #I LOSE FUCKING EVERYTHING #adhd will be like #: thou art so observant that it is distracting : #: BUT not observant towards items that are not novel to you : #: die mad about it : #: so it is written. so it must be : #: no nobody saw where you put the fucking car keys :

[erwinsvow]

i can see the trio dangerously driving to or from a party. they’re speeding down the empty road, the new future album blasting from the speakers of topper’s jeep. kelce is up front, and reader and rafe are in the back. reader is a bit drunk and rafe is high out of his mind and can’t control his feelings for reader so he starts getting touchy with her, maybe trying to kiss her. since you’re just starting this au out, i’m curious to know how do you think reader would react and if she did kiss him back, how would topper and kelce react?

the last line of coke was a mistake—it made him lose the last bits of his self control. it was clear that he was way too high to drive, even though it seemed like rafe always drove clear-headed or not, so you were assigned babysitting duty in the back.

top was on a rager today, even worse than his usual ones. whenever him and sarah started fighting, he got like this, currently blasting some future song at the highest volume possible, speeding through the streets of kildare. you would be a little scared, except kelce is driving while topper nurses yet another beer in the passenger seat. you're deliciously drunk, still gone from the drinks you had at the party, not a care in the world except making sure rafe doesn't keel over in the back.

you mumble along the words to the song, pretty much engraved in your memory from how often it was played. you don't know how it happens, your fingers just find rafe's hair, brushing it out of his face while he talks to top and kelce in the front, amped up and loud, acting as crazy as you've ever seen him. you giggle, continuing your motions.

topper begins some rant about his girlfriend, or rather, his ex, while rafe locks eyes with you. it's hard to keep eye contact, looking away the second rafe shuts up and focuses on you completely. you're never shy around them but this might be the closest you've gotten.

you feel rafe's hands on your exposed thighs, your tiny skirt ridden up in the seat. his touch feels good, in your drunken state you don't think there's anything wrong with it. he's just being friendly, being touchy, being rafe. he strokes the soft skin of your legs, running his hands down to your ankles, while you shift around in the back. all it would take is one look from the boys in the front to see that something's going on back here.

"rafe, listen to top he's talkin-"

"shh," rafe says, noise completely overlooked by the others, nothing audible except the thump of the bass. he takes your face into his hand, leaning in close. "shut up for a second." he kisses you, briefly, barely, lips touching together and your eyes fluttering shut, when kelce slams on the brakes. the two of you fly apart, your heart thudding for an entirely different reason now.

"what the fuck, kelce, my brakes-" top starts.

"it was a deer, you idiot. you guys okay?" he turns to look at you and rafe in the back, your face flushed and rafe's hands still on your legs.

"fine," rafe mumbles. the four of you head back to tannyhill, you crashing on rafe's bed like always while top and kelce take the guest room down the ball. the two of you are out before you can bring it up, but rafe doesn't forget about it.

in the morning, you stretch, the oversized shirt of his you'd put on for the night riding up. rafe doesn't wait another minute.

"so, about last night. in the car." he looks at you, waiting for your response.

"oh, rafe, don't apologize. it's okay. we were both pretty gone."

"m'not apologizin', i-"

"and i mean, who hasn't been there once or twice-"

"once or twice?"

"and i kissed kelce that one time, so i guess-"

"you kissed kelce?" rafe looks at you like you've committed a crime.

"what? it was new years."

"where the hell was i?"

"i don't know, probably sucking some girl's face off. i was busy making out with kelce, remember?" you laugh, getting up and looking for your clothes. rafe lays back down on the bed, deciding he's never leaving you alone with kelce ever again.

#this was... incredibly incredibly fun to write. #you are an ANGEL For sending this prompt i could picture it so vividluy #i hope you love <333333 thank you so so much for engaging and liking it! #📮 asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #kook trio reader

[unclewaynemunson]

I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.

When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.

But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.

MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!

I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3

---

Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.

'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.

'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'

Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.

Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.

'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'

And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'

'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'

Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.

'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.

'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'

'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'

'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'

'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.

'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'

Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.

'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'

Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #anon seriously thank you so much for sending this to me!! it's been a great scenario to explore #and my apologies for the angst lmao #but i promise more will follow soon #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[naivegh0ul]

OKAY BUT how about Older¡Ghost extremely jealous when his neighbor (reader) brings someone to her house to fuck with her? He would be extremely mad about it, but couldn't help but hear her moans and whimpers, wishing it was him instead making her feel good. (And to be honest, she may only did that to caught Ghost's attention )

YESSS god I love the idea of jealous Older!Ghost (it took me way too answer this i am so so so sorry anon!!!)

(warnings: smut, fem reader, older!ghost, jealousy, blowjobs, face fucking)

(word count: 1908)

It's 3am and Ghost hasn't gotten an ounce of sleep. How could he, when he can hear you moaning so sweetly through the walls. This has been a nightly occurrence. Ghost would go to bed, lay there for a while as he scrolled through pictures of you on his phone, and then the moaning would start.

The first time it happened, Ghost brushed it off, he's heard you pleasuring yourself through the walls before. Hell, he's even watched you. But this time you sounded different. Not so breathy, more high-pitched. Exaggerated.

The second time, he heard the creaking noise. Your bed must be rocking back and forth. Again, not the first time Ghost has heard that, but it is the first time he's heard grunts to go along with it.

Now, at three o'clock in the morning, Ghost has finally had enough. He climbs out of bed, feeling angry and annoyed. Angry that his sleep is being disrupted, and annoyed that he's hard from your moans.

He storms out of bed and out of his house, making his way towards your home in only a pair of grey sweatpants and socks, the imprint of his hard cock visible at the front of his sweats.

There's no response when Ghost knocks the first time, so he goes to knock again but your front door swings open before he can. "Mr. Riley!" You exclaim, slightly out of breath. "W-what's the matter?"

Ghost looks you up and down not so discreetly, noting the fact that one of your pant legs is riding up a little, and your shirt is up slightly, revealing the hickies and bite marks littering your stomach.

A twinge of jealousy filled Ghost at the sight. He has no right to be jealous, he knows that, but he is. You are his. Not officially, but you belong to Ghost. He knows what you like, how to crook his fingers to make you cry out his name, what filthy things to say to make you an embarrassed, whining mess.

That man in your bed probably has no idea what to do, he most likely just whipped his dick out and tried to put it in you, not even bothering to make you cum on his fingers first. He's probably your age, too. Young, immature, thinks with his dick.

Ghost can feel himself getting riled up the more he thinks about that stupid guy in your house. Ghost's is gonna give him what he deserves, the second he leaves your house Ghost is gonna wrap his hands around his throat and watch the life bleed from him-

"Simon?" Your sweet voice coos, pulling Ghost out of his spiraling thoughts. "Have a nice night." Ghost grunts out, turning away and walking straight back to his house.

Going to your house was a bad idea. You're a grown woman, for God's sake. He should leave you alone and stop being such an obsessive old man.

The sound of your sock-covered feet hitting the pavement has Ghost turning around before he enters his house. "Simon!" You say, looking up at him as you come to a stop on his front doorstep. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?" There's clear concern in your eyes, making Ghost's heart melt.

"'M fine, love. Don't worry 'bout me." Ghost sighs, reaching forward to ruffle your hair. "Go back inside, 'm sure your guest is waitin' for you."

Ghost tries to turn around again but your hands reach out and grab the waistband of his joggers. "He..." You mumble, looking down at your feet. "He doesn't make me feel as good as you do." You admit as you glance up at Ghost with pleading, desperate eyes.

"Love..." Ghost sighs again "'M too old for you, alright? Go back inside, pretty girl." He leans forward and kisses your forehead softly and strokes your hair before pulling back.

Suddenly, you're on your knees in front of him, hands tugging at his waistband. "Please, Simon?" You coo, palming him through his joggers. Ghost swears under his breath, cock twitching and his hands curling into fists as he fights off the urge to give in.

No, he gave in once. He got his fill, he shouldn't be greedy. But you look so pretty in front of him, kneeling on the hard concrete, your face so close to his throbbing cock.

"You really want this, don't you?" Ghost says as he rubs the bridge of his nose. "Come on, get up. Don't want you kneeling on the concrete." Ghost reaches down and pulls you up, guiding you into his house.

Once the door is shut, you sink to your knees again, eager to please Ghost. "Fuck, you're eager." Ghost breathes as he undoes the ties on his sweatpants, pushing the garment down past his hips, exposing his cock to you.

He watches as your throat bobs and you swallow, your hands sliding up and down his thighs impatiently. Ghost wraps a hand around himself and strokes himself a few times, watching as you shuffle forward and open your mouth.

"Just this once." Ghost thinks to himself as he grabs the back of your head and slowly pushes his cock inside your waiting mouth, groaning loudly as the feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfs him.

His hand guides you up and down the length of his cock, his fingers tangled in your hair and tugging ever so slightly. He has to fight the urge to buck forward, to fuck into your mouth as you drool all over him.

When he feels your hand on his balls suddenly, he jolts, a moan being shocked out of him as you gently roll them in your hand. "Attagirl," Ghost praises softly, barely audible over the sound of your slurping and gagging as you try to pleasure him at your pace, not his.

Ghost lets you do what you want, letting go of your hair and watching as you scoot forward and take more of Ghost into your mouth. It's a delicious sight, seeing your mouth stretching around him as your fingers wrap around the base of Ghost's cock.

You move further down Ghost's shaft each time, taking more and more of him. Your lips bump into your fingers as you take away one each time, building yourself up until finally you've got Ghost's cock buried deep in your throat, your neck bulging ever so slightly.

"Fuuuck," Ghost groans as he throws his head back, bumping it into the wall. His hips jerk, forcing himself further down your throat and making his heavy balls slap against your face. When you swallow around him, it takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. He has to pull you back so he can control himself.

You're pulled off with a wet cough, one hand holding your throat while the other wipes the spit from your mouth. "Why'd you stop?" You rasp as you look up at Ghost, licking your lips.

"Got close." You tilt your head at his explanation. "Why didn't you just cum then?" Your hand finds its way back to Ghost's cock, your thumb and forefinger gently pulling back Ghost's foreskin as you wait for a response.

"Didn't know if... mhm, if you wanted me to." He pauses mid-sentence as you wrap your lips around his tip, lapping the milky white precum beading from his slit. Your tongue digs under his foreskin, licking him teasingly.

You're so good at this, making Ghost feel like he has no control and you're in charge when you're only giving him a blowjob. You're not even doing anything special, not ordering him around or trying to be dominant, you're just gently suckling on his cock and now you've got him wrapped around your finger.

And it's not fair. Ghost wants to fuck a pretty girl like you with no repercussions, but he knows that's not possible, the moment they're having explains that all away. You can't get pleasure from anyone other than Ghost, and he can't stop himself from pleasuring you.

He's trying so hard to focus and what you're doing, but the way your hand strokes him and your tongue laps at him has him feeling floaty and drunk so he doesn't notice when he starts thrusting his hips forward slowly, fucking into the wet heat of your mouth.

Your hands hold onto his hairy thighs as he gently fucks your mouth, your nails scratching lightly as you let him do what he wants. He sounds so gorgeous, breathy moans and groans escaping his throat as he rocks his hips.

You watch him, big eyes looking up at Ghost curiously as you swallow. He looks so good from where you're kneeling, mindless yet focused as he moves you up and down on his cock like you're a toy, just a thing for his pleasure.

And you let him. You let him drag you along his cock or hold you still so he can fuck into your mouth; you let him lose himself as he stares into your teary, lustful eyes.

"So pretty down there." Ghost mumbles, slurring his words as if he's drunk on the feeling of you. "Perfect little mouth, so warm..." His hand moves from the back of your head to the side, Ghost's other hand joining in as he holds you still and slowly thrusts into your mouth, letting out breathy little grunts each time.

He's close, you can tell from the way his breathing speeds up and hips move faster, eagerly bucking into your mouth. Ghost gets rough when he's close, you know that, so you're prepared when he adjusts his stance and grips your head tighter, pulling you down so your nose is buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock.

"Fuuuck," Ghost groans as he feels your throat contract, watches as your eyes water and your hands grip his thigh. "Good fucking girl, takin' me so well." His thumb swipes below your eye, wiping away your tears as his hips snap against your face, balls slapping your chin.

"'M close," He pants, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. "You gonna swallow it like a good girl?" At his words, you moaned, eyebrows pinching as you scooted forward on the floor and licked at the sensitive vein on the underside of Ghost's cock.

“Yeah, ‘s what I thought.” His hands tighten their hold on your head, pulling you closer to him. You’re a gagging, drooling mess, hands planted in your lap as you hear Ghost let out a loud, long moan, his hips stilling as he forces his cock further into your mouth, spilling his seed down your throat.

When Ghost finally lets you off – after holding you there for an unreasonable amount of time – you splutter and cough, one hand gingerly holding your throat while the other wipes your mouth.

You stand up after a moment, knees clicking and cracking from being so stiff and you look at Ghost with a tiny smile on your face and a happy expression. Boldly, you lean closer, standing on your tiptoes as you go in for a kiss.

But Ghost stops you with a hand on your shoulder, shutting you down. “We shouldn’t.” He shakes his head as he speaks. He can see the look of hurt and confusion in your eyes as you step back, visibly embarrassed.

“Um, I’ll go now.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. “Bye, Mr. Riley.”

#asks #fem reader #older!ghost #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost smut #i am so bad with posting stuff at a normal rate #i'm so sorry anon 😭 #i had so much fun with this request tho #thank you for sending it <3

[stevebabey]

uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)

finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.

(feel free to ignore!)

trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too

Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.

One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.

It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.

The thought makes you fluster a bit.

He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.

Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.

Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.

Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.

You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”

He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.

“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”

Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.

“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.

He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?

Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.

“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.

You eye him over your cup, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”

He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.

“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”

You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.

It’s your turn to ask. “What?”

Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.

“It’s your favourite.”

“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”

Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.

“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”

Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.

You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.

Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.

You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.

#this was fun! thank u so much for sending one #it was a challenge to make something go with it #i’m feeling very into new relationship getting used to each other jitters <3 #ruby writes steve #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x you #steve x you #a baby baby blurb :) enjoy !

[pregmothy]

If you’re a slime puppy does that mean that your body is translucent? If someone were to cum inside you would everyone see? Would you grow slime eggs in your little slime puppy womb and have to walk around with everyone seeing your eggs jostling around inside you?

Horniness aside, that was a super cute doggo oc you drew a while back. You should draw more often you have a cute style :3

lol yes (^///^) nothing is hidden when puppy's womb is full ❤

#thank you so much anon!!! #my art #bd/sm blog #bd/sm kink #ftm nsft #ftnb nsft #send dirty asks #slime kink #nsft slime #transformation kink #egg preg #eggnant #eggnancy #eggpreg #egg laying

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #i blacked out and wrote 85% of this yesterday #i desperately wanted to finish it but had plans fghjkl #anyways wow! a brief reprieve from my writers block?? a temporary break in the dam???? #i had so much fun writing this either way #thank you for sending this!! #not proofread we die like men #my writing #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #smut

[felsicveins]

Do you think that julien and jd are going to get together again? Man i am clawing at your leg begging for them to have that happy ending.

Part of me feels julien genuinely loves and cares for jd, and that the guilt of what happened and the shame of what he did follows him like a lost dog. Hes never going to know what happiness feels like as long as he doesnt have his boy. And that eats at him. He feels pathetic for begging but at the same time what does he have left to lose? Dignity? He lost that the day john found out about the lip syncing. About everything.

John might be in a similar boat, having the guilt eating at him. He hates what julien did. But does he hate him himself? Fuck if he knows. All he does know is that the ache in his chest is a pain in the ass and that no matter what he cant go back to alcohol to subside it. So what can he go to? What can he do? He needs to be strong, to set his foot down. But even though he acts like he despises the guy, he still has that fucking wedding ring. He still has that ache. Sure there were others, but those were casual even in marriage. But this? This had a plan. A promise.

And that was broken. Years ago.

I wonder if they’ll ever fix it.

Nothing will get fixed if no one changes

#you are too crazy to send this to me on a monday morning #really set the tone for yesterday #trolls #trolls oc #ask #trolls oc julien #john dory #jd ex husband #john dory trolls #julien is too ashamed to apologize to jd while hes awake so jd doesnt think hes sorry at all ... #more on this later 🤔 #i didnt add too much to this ask cause its really good by itself thank you for this #also this drawing is really old #and doesnt make a lot of sense #i imagine they just both in a moment of weakness spend the night together because theyre lonely #and when jd falls asleep julien just cries and holds him ..... #anyway

[kentopedia]

NB, idea I thought you might like—you know those memes/stories of boyfriends who get drunk and tell their girlfriend something like, “You’re pretty but I have a girlfriend,” or whatever?

Nanami. Very red-faced and very seriously.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ THE BOYFRIEND TRAP — nanami kento

OMG THIS IS SO CUTE !! it's so funny you mention it bc i've been thinking about writing something like this for a while now hehe. this gave me a perfect excuse to write something sweet bc i've been feeling so emotional about him

it was satoru's idea to go out drinking. ironic, really, considering he was the one that had a soda in front of him, no more than half-empty, a refill after the first sickeningly sweet one.

across the restaurant, at the bar, gojo was talking with nanami, nodding seriously with a small grin as kento rambled on about something that he would probably regret spilling to the white-haired man in the morning. it was easy to get kento to talk with some alcohol in him; he normally kept things locked up tight, but once you got a drunk kento going, it was, truly, hard to stop him.

"you should get him home," shoko said, smiling from where her hands were set in her hands. "i'm afraid of what satoru is over there asking."

it was then that you noticed the phone in gojo's hands, not so subtly hidden behind the edge of the table, filming as kento waved his hands around in the air. nanami wasn't normally such a lightweight—whatever satoru had ordered him must have packed a heavy punch.

you sighed. "kento is going to kill him tomorrow." with that, you said goodbye to shoko and stood from the table, heading over to the two men conversing at the bar.

as you approached, satoru waved gleefully, not even trying to hide the fact that he was filming the entire scene.

"are you ready, kento?" you asked, grabbing your phone from your bag to check the time; it was later than you thought. "we should probably leave or we'll miss the last train."

"you're leaving? it's still so early," satoru whined, a dramatic pout on his lips. "i can just call ijichi-"

"you bother that man enough." you rolled your eyes. not to mention, kento would probably be mortified if his younger colleague saw him in such a state. "come on, ken-" you placed a hand on his forearm, but it was only there for a moment before nanami, politely, lifted it off his arm and gave it back to you.

"i'm sorry," he said, his expression one of complete seriousness, despite his reddened face. "i can't go with you."

you glanced over at satoru, who covered his mouth, trying not to choke on his laughter. "why not?" you asked kento, your eyebrows pulling together.

nanami stood straighter, his eyes hazy as he regarded you apologetically. his tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was undone, cooling his heated skin. "you're pretty," he said, slurring the words a bit. "but i have a girlfriend."

satoru's laughter escaped in loud cackles as he held the phone up higher, shoving it into nanami's face.

you blinked up at kento, a small smile pulling onto your lips. "you do, huh? you don't think i'm prettier than your girlfriend?"

he frowned. "no. of course not." kento's hair had come undone, two blonde strands falling over his forehead as he sifted through his pocket, pulling out his phone. he showed you the lockscreen; a photo of you smiling widely beside him as he kissed you on the cheek. "see how cute she is? she's beautiful."

you laughed, your cheeks warm as you took the phone from his hands. "she sure looks an awful lot like me, kento." giving the phone back to him, you showed him your own lock screen, another photo of the same day; this one was just of kento smiling softly at the camera, the orange sunset glowing against his skin.

he stared at the photo for a moment, studying it, as if unsure why you had a picture of him. then, his face cleared. "oh," kento breathed, looking back at you and then the photo, a realization erupting behind his eyes. "that's why you're so pretty."

you smiled, and tugged his hand to pull him away from the barstool. "you are very pretty too, kento," you said, and his cheeks grew redder, his smile lopsided from all the alcohol. "i'm glad i won't have to drag you out of here like a toddler." though you exhaled a sigh, it was more amused than anything.

waving goodbye to satoru, you led kento out of the restaurant, his arms stringing around your waist as he clung to you. he kissed your cheek, your temple, and you laughed breathlessly, pretending to be exasperated.

"i love you," he said, squeezing you tight. "you're my favorite person in the entire world." the letters were drawn out, the syllables meshing together as he stumbled onto his feet. you were certain he would've fallen onto the pavement, had it not been for the tight grip on your body.

he repeated the words again, i love you, i love you, like he couldn't get enough of the taste of them on his tongue.

the feeling of him around you was warm, and you leaned back into his chest, just as in love with him as he was with you. though, you couldn't help but mess around with him a little more. teasing him was, perhaps, the one hobby you shared with gojo.

"you love me that much?" you asked, but you still kissed him softly, grinning against his flushed lips. "two minutes ago you didn't even remember who i was."

he hummed, pressing a kiss to your top of your head, stalling you in the middle of the sidewalk. he dragged you close, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. "'m sorry, sweetheart," kento said, running a hand through your hair. "think i drank too much."

you laughed, lacing your fingers with his own. "maybe just a little."

#THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS OMG #I wuv him so so much #this is so sappy and sweet #& i can't help but make gojo reader's bff in everything i write #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #nanami fluff #nanami x fem!reader #kento nanami x reader #໒꒱ rylie's angels

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

#letterstoear #nui #twst #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #twst grim #mod posting #okay but i love squishing the bears with my thumb; they just have the right thickness to be pressed on #i really like the flower stickers; they look like romantically artistic wax seal #the letters are pleasantly nice #i love the part where cheka personally request for an audience with yuu thru sebek 🥺🥺🥹🥹 too cute hnggh ....... #sebek becoming our little mailman for our little invitation aw 🥹 for those who wanna know the context of the letter; #i requested a letter from sebek that he sent home while he was away accompanying malleus on other country duty #my other favorite part is just him simply opening the letter with 'My love' #i'm sealed 🥹 the first paragraph is written so sweetly #i enjoy reading the letter slowly outside in peaceful afternoon today; i ran it through together with sebek nui #this will be my treasured keepsake from now on 🥹; it seriously made me miss letters and wish i have someone to send this kind of letter to #it was a bit funny how the envelope sebek's letter came from is sticked with the guys from free! sticker fhsdsh 🤣😂 #and me with the white haired guy like WHo are u?? fsjdsdjsd (´つヮ⊂); but it's a really nice service #the thank you letter came with such a cute and yummy folding paper; thank you for the stickers too #i feel like there's a bit whoopsie on grim's winky eye fshfh like i think the sharpie just blurs the separating space '<' supposed to have #and just combine it all together into one angry eye; and sebek bear's eyes are just a little bigger than i expected it to be #but the more i look at them i think they are just having a little individuality & still cute #i embraced it all together while knowing the fact none of handmade thing would always be the same one with the other; hehe sebek nui has fr #i kinda forget that there's this kind of clip earring fshd; because i always get the ones that work like screw from aliexpress #i know that the literal clip one would just be literal meaning of pain fsh; just like the magnet one my father once got me when i was a kid #it was painful but pretty; tho i lost it quickly bcs magnet easily get loosed once one part of it moves around when u touch ur hair or face #anyhow i had a pleasant day because of this; thank you very much ! sebek nui said 'thank you' too! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ❀ ✿ 𖤣…

[buwheal]

Man although I can't send this and have Spamton see the image (cuz it would be text instead) I'll send it to you and you can give me your opinion about it.

What do you think...

...about...

...snowy Spamton?

IT SNOWED YESTERDAY YESS!!!

(this was on a car btw, which made it even better)

#(EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE) it has never said you couldnt send him images btw :-P so congrats he does get to see!!! #ive been meaning to answer this since like.. forever... this is from january 21st.... oops!!! I wasnt sure how to make him react #-to images then. #but i figured it out now lol. At least for this one.. sigh /nsrs #this image is so funny to me lmao /pos thank you so much i love it def one of my fav asks X-) Its so sweet <33 #[you've got mail!] #spamton #spamton g spamton #I hope his hair is greasy enough because MAN its slathered in there (wretch /j) i was struggling with his hair perspective tbh #deltarune #deltarune spamton #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton fanart #kingsis beat me to the images grrrr /J /nsrs I was saving them for something specific i wanted to do so thats why #youll see

[erwinsvow]

hiiiii! okay thought

rafe and shy!reader but she has cuteness aggression so whenever rafe does something sweet she just bites him cause he’s so <3 and how else does one go about that

oh my god.. you spoke to my soul with this one ♡ this felt so intimate to write almost like we're all intruding on a moment btwn them

sometimes you can't believe rafe is your boyfriend. he's so... so. he's perfect for you, like he was crafted for you specifically, with the way he treats you. gentle, but firm. caring, but still bringing you out of your shell at times. he's the kind of guy girls dream about, and he's yours, and you feel so giddy about it you don't understand how to process it.

it's all the little things added up, the way he memorizes your orders so you don't have to talk to the waiters, the way he always finds a way to bring you into conversations with his friends so you're not the odd one out. he treats you like a princess, makes you feel like one.

you think it's the best when it's just the two of you, like today, alone in tannyhill. curled up in bed next to him, you read your book while he works on his laptop, looking at something he tried to explain to you before you gave up on paying attention.

you're a little enraptured with your book, not even noticing when rafe shuts his screen and puts it away.

"kid. kid."

"hm?" you look up, a little dazed. "oh, are you all done?"

"for now. how's your book?" the way he asks, you feel like there's nothing rafe cares about more in the world than the book in your hands and how it makes you feel.

"it's good," you say quietly, staring up at him still.

"good. read some to me, hm?" he closes his eyes, lying back against the pillow. you feel your heart warm, your face flush. you lean against his chest, opening your book back up and starting to recite while rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"-and elinor, who now understood her sister, and saw to-to she was carried by her eagerness to to be with willoughby again.."

you stop reading, looking up at rafe with his eyes closed. you move your head, teeth biting down gently on his arm. his eyes shoot open, while you giggle against the skin.

"what the fuck, kid-"

"sorry. i couldn't resist. i just love you so much." you bury your head into his chest, your book and its page getting lost in the sheets. you resist the urge to bite his chest too.

"so y'have to bite me? jesus. gonna get you a muzzle." he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, holding you tighter. "i love you too."

#AHRBFHWS i love him so much #this might be my fave thing ever #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #i adore you ♡ thank you for sending

[unclewaynemunson]

Okay so @willowworkswithwords sent me this fucking perfect prompt about Steve casually mentioning how much of an asshole his dad is is during a movie night at the Munsons and Wayne immediately shifting into Concerned mode, and I almost finished the thing but then tumblr glitched and i lost it to the void forever. I learned my lesson to never save anything to tumblr without backup ever again, buuut here it finally is:

Wayne first met Steve Harrington long before Eddie officially started dating the boy. He figured out that his nephew was head over heels before Eddie himself did. He hadn't been too thrilled about it, at first. In his experience, boys like Steve Harrington, with his big car and neatly ironed polo shirts, could only want two things from boys like his Eddie: drugs and secret encounters in the dark before he'd finally follow the path that was perfectly mapped out for him by his parents. But it didn't take him too long before he admitted that he had misjudged the boy. He noticed it even before Eddie himself did: Steve Harrington had fallen like a brick for his nephew, and he was in it for the long run.

He mostly met the boy in passing, whenever he'd come home from his night shift while Steve was just leaving the trailer park, or when he'd be heading out to get to work at the same time as Steve came by to pick up Eddie for a date or to hang out with that group of freshmen that Eddie would never stop talking about. The boy was always perfectly polite to him, calling him things like Sir and Mister, apologizing for being in his space and thanking him for the most ridiculous little things. Wayne thought it was a bit much, but he supposed that it was just how the boy had been raised, all formal and uptight. There was something behind it, however, a certain guarded look in his eyes, that always gave Wayne this uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He didn't quite understand what that was all about – until the three of them were having a movie night in the trailer on one of Wayne's nights off.

The two boys were all over each other on the couch, their legs entangled and their fingers intertwined, with their heads as close together as if they'd die if they wouldn't be breathing the exact same air. It made Wayne wish he had a camera on him; instead, he tried to imprint the picture into his memory.

He didn't care too much for the movie, which was about some rich teenage girl trying to break free from the restrictive uptown life that was suffocating her by getting herself some no-good boyfriend in a leather jacket – who Steve and Eddie enthusiastically agreed was a “hot piece of ass.” The main bad guy was the girl's dad, a character who checked off all the rich asshole dad stereotypes: suit that made him look bigger than he actually was, wife who let herself be bossed around by him at all times, and that kind of undefinable charisma, which made everyone else feel like all the air had left the room whenever he'd walk in.

'He kinda reminds me of my dad,' said Steve while leaning forward to get himself a handful of popcorn. It was just an innocent, offhand remark, and sounded perfectly nonchalant – but as he said it, the camera zoomed in on the girl's face to convey one single emotion: fear.

Steve leaned back into the couch and stuffed his mouth full of popcorn, getting crumbs all over his shirt and seemingly not noticing how both Wayne and Eddie had frozen by his remark.

Wayne met his nephew's wide-eyed gaze over the top of Steve's big hair. Wayne wasn't exactly a talkative person, and over the years in which Eddie had been living with him, they had perfected the art of silent communication, not needing more than some looks and gestures to have complete conversations with each other.

Wayne raised an eyebrow at Eddie, which meant something along the lines of Did you know about this?

Eddie responded with a barely-visible nod.

Wayne made a sideways movement with his head. Why didn't you tell me?

Eddie shrugged. It wasn't my place to tell, that meant.

Wayne nodded at him and turned his gaze back to the screen, but he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to properly shift his attention back to the plot.

'You wanna stay over?' Eddie asked Steve when the movie was finished.

Steve's eyes immediately flashed to Wayne's corner, that familiar guarded look in them. 'Um... Would you – would it be okay if I stayed the night, sir?'

'You can stay whenever you like, son,' said Wayne. 'And stop calling me sir, alright?'

'Alright, yeah, okay, sorry sir,' Steve stammered, which made Eddie burst into loud laughter. Wayne merely shook his head and got up from his chair.

He never sat Steve down for some official talk about his asshole dad – that wasn't his style anyway. He preferred conveying the message by little gestures: calling him “son” whenever he had the chance, refusing to be called “sir” ever again, giving him a key to the trailer, inviting him over to watch basketball together, taking him fishing when they both had a day off work... After a while, that guarded look finally disappeared from the boy's face. But it returned a couple months later, when Steve accidentally called Wayne “dad” in a distracted moment. Wayne didn't say anything about it; he merely gave the boy a pat on his shoulder to let him know it was okay. He didn't mind getting called “dad” by Steve Harrington for one bit.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #willow thank you so much for sending me this prompt i really loved it #wayne munson my beloved #ficlet #stranger things #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fruity ficlet